The Paradise of Elves – Part 8:  Changes

The dancing had become frolicsome: playful with heady laughter and dizzy with joy rather than with the effects of excessive wine.  The younger elves had drawn away from their more sober elders and were allowing themselves to be infected by the atmosphere of euphoria.

‘I must thank your naneth for inviting her,’ Legolas remarked as he and Elrohir stood in the shadows of the starlit glade.

His friend raised his glass.  ‘She understands your difficulties.  Daeradar was actually quite fond of my adar as a friend and colleague, but that did not mean he wanted him as a son-in-law.  His many good qualities could not erase his descent from Man and Maia – and yet worse, Noldor ancestors.’

Legolas raised his eyebrows in a manner singularly reminiscent of his own adar.  ‘Surely he could not find that objectionable!  After all, he wed your daernaneth. And Thranduil tends to look on her as first cousin to a Balrog.’

‘I am wounded.’  Elrohir put his hand to his heart and feigned distress. ‘You insult my family.’

‘Only to point out the narrow-mindedness of my own,’ Legolas retaliated swiftly.

They watched silently for a moment as Elladan danced with his bride, the pair of them isolated in the midst of the crowd around them by the luminous air of rapture that enclosed them, and then they each turned to look at a different guest of the wedding party.

‘She is beautiful,’ Elrohir commented. ‘You have done well, my friend, although I do not know what she sees in a pasty princeling like you.’

‘She is more than beautiful,’ his friend replied softly. ‘She is brave and generous and kind and tolerant.  She is honest and strong.  She is too unassuming – she even manages to be ashamed of her family’s connection to something that happened centuries before she was conceived.  I want to fight dragons for her, Elrohir, and she will not even let me tell my adar that he has no right to interfere.’

The dark-haired elf put his hand on his friend’s arm consolingly.  ‘Patience, Legolas. Try diplomacy first.  There is always time for all-out war if that should fail.’

The other drew a deep breath and forced himself to relax.  ‘Are you making progress with your chosen elleth?’ he asked lightly.  ‘You seem to have been enjoying a pleasant evening.’

‘An understatement,’ he answered, his eyes seeking the wheat-fair silken locks and soft blue gown of a certain maiden whose silver eyes were straying in their direction, despite her best attempt to appear nonchalant.  ‘It amazes me that, throughout all this time, she should have been waiting here for me, heart-free, so that now our song might twine together.’

‘Your family will welcome her?’

Elrohir’s swift glance was deep with sympathy.  ‘I fear so, my friend.’

‘I would not have it otherwise,’ Legolas maintained, spreading his hands wide in a gesture of giving. ‘It would not be of any assistance to me to have you in similar straits.  I am happy for you.’  He watched with interest as the fair-haired elleth talked with her friends, glancing periodically in their direction. ‘She is lovely, Elrohir – with a look of the Galadhrim about her.  Did she come from Lothlorien?’

‘Her parents did, but she was conceived after they came to these lands.’

‘Got you, my brothers!’  A figure in elegant formal robes grabbed a shoulder of each. ‘I have not spoken to either of you for hours.’  Elladan looked at them a little self-consciously, a slight uncertainty apparent in his glowing face.  ‘We will be taking our leave shortly.  I wanted. . ,’ his voice trailed away and his grip tightened.

‘Nothing will break our bond,’ Elrohir told him in immediate reassurance. ‘We are twins.  Marriage cannot change that.’

‘Brothers by blood and blood brothers,’ Legolas added, as they returned the fierce hug.  ‘We are not going anywhere, Elladan.  We are still here for each other.’

‘But it will not be the same,’ he replied, his voice no more than a pained whisper.

‘It will be better,’ Elrohir insisted. ‘Love is one thing that is better shared.’

They held on to each other for a brief moment, clinging to their past, before Elladan released them suddenly, clapping each on the back.  ‘Come and dance,’ he commanded them. ‘I have the perfect partners for you.’