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Reflections from the Paradise of Elves  by Bodkin

The Paradise of Elves – Part 13:  Uneasy Alliance

‘This is a real gathering of the clans,’ Elladan said appreciatively.

‘Oh yes,’ Legolas replied.  ‘Everyone who might impress from Arda, standing shoulder to shoulder to dominate the assembled Noldor hordes of the Blessed Realm. It reminds me of the Black Gate.’

‘We are still outnumbered.’

‘That reminds me of the Black Gate, too.’

‘Daernaneth is standing as your kin-by-marriage,’ Elrohir observed. 

‘That is causing a great deal of confusion,’ Elladan said gleefully.  ‘I do not think they can quite credit that the daughter of their High King is claiming closer kinship with the upstart Moriquendi prince of a forest realm from Middle Earth than with them.’

‘I do not think Thranduil can quite believe it, either,’ Legolas admitted.  ‘And he would probably feel rather safer if she were not.  He is not, you may have noticed, entirely open-minded in his response to Lady Galadriel – he would much rather not have to be obliged to her for her support.’

‘Your guests cover a far wider spread of Elvenkind,’ Elladan remarked.  ‘You have some with Noldor blood and Vanyar and Teleri as well as Silvan and Sindar.’

‘And that is just you two,’ jested the nervous prince. ‘Although I do not believe her family looks on mixed blood as something to be admired.’

‘The bearers of the three elven rings are your guests, too.’

‘They do not feel that is worthy of admiration, either.’

‘Never mind, my friend,’ Elrohir comforted him.  ‘If you can just survive the day, you can spirit her away to safety and leave the rearguard to fight the remaining action.’

Legolas winced. ‘Maybe we should stop talking of this ceremony as a battle,’ he suggested.  ‘It is supposed to be a happy occasion and you are making me even more nervous.’

‘Oh, I do not know,’ mused Elladan.  ‘The waiting is the worst part.  Once the fighting starts, battle is rather exciting.’

The others gave his words a reluctant recognition.  ‘The aftermath, however, is atrocious,’ his brother commented. ‘I think, perhaps, Legolas is right.  We do not wish to spend the next several centuries attempting to mend unnecessary injuries.  We should glue smiles to our faces and keep reminding ourselves that this is a celebration.  Legolas is marrying into our distant kin.  It is our duty to keep telling them how fortunate they are.’

‘I am not altogether convinced that that would be of assistance,’ he responded carefully.  ‘I think they are of the opinion that I am the one who is fortunate – far beyond my deserts.  And – ,’ he said, his face radiant as he turned towards the new arrivals, ‘in that, at least, I believe them to be correct.’

‘It is like a sunbeam dragging a thundercloud,’ Elladan nudged his twin, as the bride’s father escorted her, slowly and formally, across the lawn to her groom, releasing her reluctantly to his grasp, before stepping back to allow his precious daughter to bind herself to her unsuitable choice of husband.  Legolas raised her hands to his lips, before lifting his eyes to hers, blue meeting green, and the glow of complete euphoria enveloped them as they spoke the words that would join them for all time.

‘Gone,’ Elladan murmured in his brother’s ear.  ‘How long do you think it will take for him to learn to function again?’

Elrohir shook his head.  ‘Not as long as it took you, my brother,’ he replied softly. ‘But I hope they make a point of enjoying every moment along the way.’


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