Nerwen the Green and the Search for the Entwives #wattys2019

Chapter XXXVIII: Blinding Jealousy

Chapter XXXVIII: Blinding Jealousy

"Let's get betrothed," Aryon told Nerwen.

It was night; they had dined wict Séredor and Lythelen, and after that, they had retired and were now undressing to go to bed.

Taken by surprise, Nerwen dropped the gown she had just taken off and stared at the prince, wide-eyed.

"W... what?" she squeaked.

Aryon, shirtless, got around the bed and took her hands, bringing them to his lips.

"Let's get betrothed," he repeated, "It's the custom of my people that, as soon as you meet your partner for life, you announce it publicly with a promise ceremony, witnessed by a male and a female sponsor. The betrothal lasts one year and one day, then the nuptial ceremony take place. I always thought of Séredor as my sponsor, because of our long friendship; and he's here at hand. So, how about doing it?"

Nerwen was still dumbfounded: she hadn't expected his proposal, not while they were travelling.

"Good Valar..." she whispered, blinking a couple of times; she noticed the prince's gaze clouding a little and realised that, with her hesitation, she was making him anxious.

"I'd be glad to," she began, slowly, "After all, even where I come from they usually do so. It's just that I don't know where we'll be, in one year and one day..."

"This is unimportant," the prince stated, relieved that her objections were only of practical nature; he kissed the palm of her hand, "Anywhere we'll be, we'll ask other ones to be our sponsors for the wedding. Mayhap... they might be the Entwives," he concluded with a smirk.

"Mayhap, who knows," Nerwen answered, reciprocating his smile.

"Is that a yes, then?" he asked.

"It's a yes," the Aini confirmed. Aryon let her hands go and began fiddling with the string of her undervest, untying the knot.

"So, we have something to celebrate..." he murmured, his eyes still locket with hers. She felt like drowning in those light blue irises, while a now familiar trembling was sliding down her spine.

"I agree..."

OOO

Séredor was enthusiastic about his friend's request; even if, deep down in his heart, he still kept some perplexity about the appropriateness of a union between an immortal and a mortal, even if she was endowed with a much longer life than ordinary humans, he admitted that, in the face of destiny, there is nothing anyone can do; besides, from what Aryon had told him, he had the High Sovereign's blessing, therefore he had no reason to refuse.

Because in this place she had no friend to ask for being her sponsor – she would have had Melian, or Galadriel, but both were very far away – Nerwen asked Queen Lythelen, who accepted gladly in spite of her doubts, even stronger than her husband's.

As they had no guests to call for – surely there was no need to invite Meledhiel – organising the ceremony required only a very short time, practically just as long as the two betrothed-to-be needed to find the promise rings, that traditionally were of silver; Lythelen sent them to her favourite jeweller, where they chose two identical rings, carved like a flat braid running on the whole circumference.

They didn't pay for them: as the emissary of the High Sovereign, Aryon's purchases were directly refunded by the Royal Treasury, and even if he wasn't the First Sword any longer, his sister had allowed him to use the royal credit for all the time he would stay in the territory of the Six Tribes.