The prophecy of the elvish warrior

The wedding

Pov Visha:

The wedding ceremony went over smoothly, thanks to the hard work of all of Lord Elronds servants. In the early afternoon everyone in the realm that wasn't absolutely bound to work and several high born guest from around the world gathered around in one of the many big gardens.

Arwen and Aragon spoke their vows, exchanging their rings and hair their hair beads. Traditionally it is the brides mother who gives the groom a jewel to be worn, but since her mother passed, Arwen chose me for that role. She gave me the necklace her mother gifted her before she went to Valinor, making it her greatest treasure. When I placed the necklace around Aragons neck, I could see Elrond loose a silent tear, once he realized, what his daughter chose.

After the ceremony it was time for the feast to start. Big trays of food were brought into the garden, servants walked around filling goblet over goblet with wine. I was seated between Elrond and Arwen. Haldir was sitting next to Aragon and Legolas. From my place it looked like the two elves finally figured out how to be civil again, which had me wondering. But Arwen let me no time to sulk in my thoughts, occupying me with constant babbling and questions regarding marriage. Elrond looked like he wanted to flee the setting, once Arwen reached the more intimate questions. I tried my best to steer around the topic, always attempting to postpone the details to a more private setting later in the evening, but Arwen had none of that.

She asked and asked, without thinking twice about how her kind was probably listening to every word we talked. After some time, I gave up, giving somewhat prude answers and opted to keep it by simple and honest ones. That seemed to finally satisfy her curiosity and she turned herself to Aragon, leaving me alone. I looked at Elrond, who seemed like he was in physical pain. "You know, all of this could have been avoided, if you would have answered her questions beforehand."

"I did." He sighted, taking a sip from his wine. "I just never thought there was so much more to know.

I chuckled at his word. "Ahh. The curse of being a single father raising a daughter. I would have passed you on to Geralt, he did a great job of raising me, but you know, communicating between different worlds seems to be rather difficult. Even for a witch."

"Can you at least try not to look as pleased with this whole situation? I am sure every elf in hearing range listened to your conversation." I shrugged it off. "So what? Maybe there might be someone who just learned a thing or two."

"I hate you." He grumbled.

"Nah. You love me. I am the best adoptive daughter you will ever have."

"I will try to negate that." He grinned at me. Playing along I posed like being stabbed to death: "I have found a difficulty in thy words. By what intent does thy dare to question the purity of my doings? I shall be enraged at thy imbecile effort to torment my being. May my wrath be thy distinction."

"Have you just taken the long way of putting a 'shut up' into four sentences?" Elrond asked a surprised look on his face. I sat up straight again, beaming him a smile. "Maybe. But that is what I have been trained and required to speak like as a child. And before you ask: No, I am not kidding, this was the way we spoke at court and yes it does make conversations long and draining. Especially those which contain the discussion of future marriage and such things."

"Must have been a very rigid life." Elrond thought to himself. I nodded, letting a heavy sight escape my lips: "You have no idea..."