"The Monks of Cool, whose tiny and exclusive
monastery is hidden in a really cool and
laid-back valley in the lower Ramtops,
have a passing-out test for a novice.
He is taken into a room full of all types of
clothing and asked: Yo, my son, which of
these is the most stylish thing to wear?
And the correct answer is:
Hey, whatever I select."

― Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

54. Many Weddings

Kissing was not quite what Legolas had thought. After he had given Kat a sweet, brief touch of lips against lips, she pulled him closer and said she would show how it was done where she came from. And the Valar help him, so she did. At length.

Her kind of kiss was far more sensual than he had imagined kisses could be, and a lot more personal. When she teased his lips with her tongue it sent shivers through his entire body, making him breathless as if after intense exercise. It made him feel vulnerable – but in a good way.

When she pulled back a long while later his lips were sore but he didn't mind. He would have been glad to continue for hours upon end if she had wanted to.

Instead they snuggled close together under a leafy tree, Legolas leaning his back against its trunk and Kat resting her head on his chest, pressing her nose against the crook of his neck like she always did when she was a cat. "You smell so good," she murmured.

She should talk. Burying his own nose in her hair he drew in her scent in deep gulps. Mesmerizing.

It grew dark and a bit chilly, but he wrapped his cloak around them both. They were mostly silent, enjoying each other and the newness of being together this way.

It was fascinating how quickly their relationship had changed from friendship into... whatever this was. Legolas had just had to make up his mind, and then from one moment to the other he was allowed to be this intimate with her. After his doubts, worries and guilt beforehand it had almost been too easy – but he had no regrets. Absolutely not. This felt right.

After a while he heard Kat's breathing becoming heavy and her eyes closed. They really shouldn't spend the night in each other's company in a public garden, but he had not the heart to rouse her. Hopefully the Lothlórien cloak would keep them hidden if someone came by.

Looking down at her serene face, he admired her dark lashes forming half-moons on her cheeks; her inviting lips; her ears with their pretty, rounded shape. He touched his own but they were still pointed; if anything had changed after he learned he would get the Gift it didn't show. 

He tried to sense any internal differences but couldn't find any there either. He felt the same way as always. Would he begin to age? Perhaps grow a beard? He stroked his smooth chin with a fingertip.

Maybe he would have to do like Lúthien did? She had gone to the Halls of Mandos and received the Gift there. Time would tell, he supposed.

It struck him that he had already changed, in a way – mentally. He had experienced so many new things in the past year: his first journey beyond the borders of the Great Wood, his first large-scale battle and now his first kiss.

All in all, it was turning out better than he had expected, especially now that the battle part of the journey was over. If he could wish for just one change as a mortal, it was the human ability to forget. That the memories of killing would begin to fade one day.

He nestled closer to Kat under the cloak, closing his eyes, savoring the feeling of her arms around his waist. She still loved him despite what he had done, and maybe that was the best cure for painful memories. To be held. To be loved. To be forgiven.

ʕll'ಠ‿ಠ'llʔ ʕ(u ‿ u)ʔ

The bobber disappeared and Sméagol hauled up a fat, madly squirming rainbow trout. A quick slice of his sharp knife ended its struggle. Good catch!

The knife was a gift from the nice hobbit upon parting. Mr Frodo had said Sméagol must stop killing fish with his teeth now that he would become a proper citizen.

Sméagol agreed. He had to care about appearances so the kind king wouldn't turn him out from the old log cabin he had been allotted. After the hobbits helped him clean the house and restore the garden it had become quite lovely, and it was a perfect place for fishing too. Already Sméagol had half a barrel of fish ready to be collected by the king's supplier and served at the royal table.

Picking up the fish, Sméagol went inside; this one was for himself. The main room was pleasantly warm from the fire in the hearth. The fat hobbit had helped him repair it, saying he must cook his fish there, and Sméagol had tried to be polite and not openly disagree. Cooking fish? Ludicrous!

Instead he had a pot of something called rice boiling on the stove, a type of white grains that were imported from Harad. When Sméagol moved in a couple of weeks back, the kind king had made sure the larders were full of foodstuffs of all kinds as payment in advance for the fish.

Sméagol sat down at the kitchen table and swiftly cleaned the trout and sliced it thinly. When he seasoned the rice with a dash of vinegar and honey he noticed it had become sticky like glue, so he decided to form small balls with it. Flattening them out, he added a slice of fish in the center of each.

Something was missing... some greens, perhaps? He went outside and found a ripe cucumber in the kitchen garden which he cut in cubes and added to the fish. Perfect! Food must not only be tasty, he figured, but also look nice.

He took the plate with him outside, slowly munching on the rice-and-raw-fish-with-cucumber cakes with his few remaining teeth while listening to the sounds of nature. Birds were chirping, waves lapped, the wind made music in the reeds.

Suddenly the peace was broken by wild splashings as a canoe appeared upstream, carrying a woman who desperately tried to empty it with a bucket. She wore only a grass skirt, and her tanned skin was covered in a sheen of sweat from her hard work.

Catching sight of Sméagol, she hollered: "Hey, you! Give me a hand here!"

He had already put down his plate and waded out towards her when he realized she had spoken a language he had not heard for many hundreds of years. The language of his youth. How was it possible?

Sméagol helped her pull the leaking canoe ashore, and while doing so he noticed she was not much taller than him – around dwarf height. Was she of hobbit ancestry? The white wizard had said that Sméagol himself was, though in his youth the word hobbit had probably not been invented yet.

Meanwhile, the woman explained how she had got herself in such a perilous situation: "I often paddle alone on the river, you see, because most folks in my village drive me nuts. I need to be alone. But today I strayed further south than I normally do and bumped into a crocodile! So I panicked and dropped my paddle and my canoe hit a stone, and then the current caught me and brought me here."

Sméagol tentatively replied in the same language. "A crocodile. Really?"

"Well, come to think of it, I'm not sure. Could have been a log, too, I suppose. Maybe there aren't crocodiles in the Great River."

"I do not think there are. Ahem... Pardon me for asking, but where are you from? Who are your people? I have not heard this language spoken in a very long time."

"I'm Lol-Nani-Ogg of the fishing tribe of the Drúedain. We've lived in these parts for generations." She peered at him. "You're a bit pale to be a Drúadan, but you speak like us, though your dialect is rather archaic. Who are your folks then?"

"I do not know... I, eh, lost touch with them."

"I see. That's sad... Oh, those look tasty!" Lol-Nani-Ogg hungrily eyed his rice-and-raw-fish cakes.

"Help yourself," he offered.

She took a bite and squealed happily. "It's raw! I just love raw fish."

"So do I." He grinned in surprise. "Give it to me raw and wriggling!"

After devouring the rest of the cakes together, Sméagol helped Lol-Nani-Ogg repair her canoe and cut a new paddle.

Before leaving, she gave him an impulsive hug. "Thanks for the yummy food and the help with my boat. Can I visit you again?"

Sméagol tried to hide his blush. Hugging half-naked women was not something he was used to. "Of course. You are welcome at any time."

"Great. See you soon then. Oh, and by the way – nice hat!"

When she paddled away he looked long after her.

_,._
(Ó ‿ Ò)

The Rohan king and his people returned home, and so did Prince Imrahil and the others from the southern fiefs, but Aragorn asked the Fellowship to stay – though he didn't specify why. He also ordered fine clothes for them all, so Kat had to make several visits to a tailor shop where the tailor and his assistants bustled around taking her measurements, trying various fabrics and making last-minute changes until everything about her outfits was perfect.

Kat enjoyed both the new fancy dresses and getting to stay in the city a while longer; Minas Tirith was lovely in early summer, full of roses and a multitude of other flowers filling the air with their sweet fragrance. In addition she was given new lodgings in the top circle, for with the Rohirrim gone there were more rooms available. She got an airy suite, and what was even better, she didn't have to share it with anyone. This she hoped would give her an opportunity to secretly meet with her boyfriend – or elffriend, more correctly – for they had sadly not been able to be alone many times since they began dating, and when in company Legolas insisted they couldn't even hold hands.

The day before Midsummer a company of elegant elves arrived in the city. Kat and Legolas watched from the wall as they rode through the crowded streets; she recognized Lady Galadriel and Celeborn with a following of Lothlórien elves, and Elrohir and Elladan riding in the front beneath a silver banner. The rest were people Legolas said came from Rivendell, most importantly Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen Evenstar – Aragorn's betrothed.

"So this is why we needed new clothes." Kat winked at Legolas. "You will love my dress."

"You are beautiful whatever you wear," he whispered smoothly.

Kat lowered her voice too. "I like you best without." Not that she had seen more than that glimpse by the river back during their journey – yet.

Legolas blushed.

After greeting his beloved, Aragorn didn't lose any time; already the next day the wedding was held. Lord Elrond gave Arwen away to King Elessar with the whole city as witness. And there was much rejoicing.

In the evening he held a grand reception in the citadel, and Kat could finally use her prettiest outfit, a wide linden green brocade dress that pushed up her bosom nicely. A set of jade earrings and matching side combs for her hair made a lovely finishing touch.

When making her way through the mingling crowd of elegant guests, she noticed she didn't get as many odd looks as before. It was a relief that they finally seemed to be getting used to her. Besides, in her new clothes and jewelry she didn't feel out of place among them.

Then she spotted Legolas and had to pause and just admire him. Dressed in a silver tunic and with a gleaming tiara holding back his hair, he was absolutely gorgeous.

She went over to him. "Hello, handsome... Do you come here often?"

"Uh, what?"

"That is just something people says in my world when they want someone." She grinned.

"I see." He trailed his eyes slowly down her dress. "Suilad, beautiful. Do you come here often?"

ʕ(* ‿ *)ʔ ʕll'*‿*'llʔ

Much later and a little tipsy, Kat silently sneaked into her suite with Legolas in tow.

He went over to the window. "Lovely view."

"I agree." She regarded his wide shoulders, accentuated by the new tunic.

He turned to her with a smile. "Come here, you."

Then she was in his arms and his lips claimed hers.

Being kissed by Legolas was frankly amazing. After she showed him how that first time, he had very soon become an expert kisser, almost as if he could sense exactly how she liked it – and perhaps he could, for it appeared he had lost none of his elvish abilities after deciding to be mortal.

During the kiss she drew her fingers through his silky hair, following a strand to his shoulders and wishing he would take his tunic off.

"Remember that time when you dressed-off and I looked?" she hinted.

"Aye. I remember." She could feel him smiling against her lips. "And it is called 'undressed'."

"Are you not warm? You should undressed a little."

To her delight he obeyed, unbuttoning his outer garment and hanging it neatly over a chair.

When he returned to kiss her again, Kat didn't hesitate. Slipping her fingers under his loose undershirt she was able to feel his bare skin at last.

"So smooth," she mumbled appreciatively.

Legolas didn't reply. He was kissing his way down her neck, aiming for, it seemed, her low neckline.

"Remember when you asked me whether I liked breasts or bottoms best?" he asked a bit huskily after he had reached it.

"Yes?" She held her breath when he caressed her over the fabric of her dress.

"I said both then, but I have changed my mind. I think I like breasts best."

Kat moved her fingers to his flat chest. "So do I."

ʕ(ಠ ‿ ಠ)ʔ  ʕll'ಠ‿ಠ'llʔ

A week later it was time for another wedding, a joint ceremony for Boromir and Faramir. The Lothlórien elves had lingered in the city so that Celeborn could give Nellas' hand away, a formality that apparently was an important part of mannish tradition, and Théoden would do the same service for Éowyn.

Many Rohirrim accompanied their king and beloved shieldmaiden to witness the happy occasion, and when they filed through the gate, Legolas – with his elf eyes – spotted a familiar couple.

He nudged Kat. "Yngling has come! And look who else he brought."

Kat nearly screamed with happiness. Hurrying to meet the boy, she caught the large, scruffy cat from his arms and hugged it close.

Greetings, The Stillness Before Dawn, Legolas thought. Do not be afraid; she is that cat you used to court, but she has become human.

This mad woman is my Kitty? Such a shame. I had hoped to mate her.

Do not even think about it, he thought warningly. She is mine. But I am sure there are plenty of other females who would be happy to be your mates.

I hope you are right, lamented the tomcat sadly.

The wedding was a swift affair. It was aesthetically pleasing, Legolas figured, with two golden-haired brides and two dark bridegrooms, but when he saw them kiss their brides he felt a twinge of envy mingled with worry. His exchange with the tomcat before had reminded him that Kat wasn't really his, as he had claimed. They were still only courting, which meant that if she changed her mind about him she would never truly be his.

How would he survive if she did?

After the ceremony followed another of the countless feasts Legolas had attended since Elessar's coronation. Not that he complained; the food was always good and the wine even better, the music was beautiful, and he enjoyed seeing humans clean and nicely dressed for a change.

Across the table, Kat looked absolutely radiant with her dark eyes sparkling and her sensual lips never ceasing to smile, often at him. She was always clean; a habit of her old world for which he was grateful. Seeing her so happy chased away his worry from before; she was his for now at least, and he was grateful for each day they could be together.

Éomer came over, walking somewhat unsteadily after one or two pints of ale too many, and squeezed himself in next to Gimli. The two of them began a friendly banter, taking up their old argument from back in Rohan when Éomer had called Galadriel a witch. Now that he had seen the lady, he admitted to having changed his mind about her, for she was indeed very beautiful – but not the fairest of them all. Before Gimli could fetch his axe to punish him for his insolence, he quickly assured it was only because he had Queen Arwen to compare her with.

Gimli graciously forgave him. "You have chosen the evening, but my love is given to the morning."

Legolas glanced at Kat. His own love was given to the night; a fragrant, warm summer night with a multitude of stars.

He looked at the couples at the high table, and the newly wedded king and queen next to them. They looked so happy with their glittering eyes and glowing cheeks, smiling besottedly at their spouses with open adoration.

Soon the three husbands would leave the feast, taking their wives to bed with them. Legolas envied them, he realized, and not just because the thought of bedding aroused him. To his people, the physical union was the real wedding, a bonding of body and soul. And he wanted that.

He wanted to wake up each morning next to Kat, and be allowed to spend most of his day with her without anyone raising an eyebrow. He wanted to take her with him to his home and introduce her to everyone, showing her off as a fine prize – for if she became his wife, she would be. He wanted to have her at his side when he fulfilled his promise to Aragorn and went to restore Ithilien.

He wanted them to spend the rest of his mortal life together – because he loved her.

Kat must have noticed his longing gaze. "It is warm here. I am going out."

After a decent amount of time had passed, he excused himself and left as well.

He found her by the baby White Tree, now blossoming sweetly, and since the place was empty he stole a quick kiss before taking her hand. "Shall we go to the garden?" he suggested. There was one on this level of the city as well, and though smaller than the one near the Houses of Healing it was sufficiently secluded.

When he finally had Kat alone, he decided it was time. He had waited long enough.

They sat down at a stone bench by a small pond. "So. We have been 'dating' for two months and a week now," he began, trying to sound casual despite the sudden nervousness that crept over him. "How long do your people normally date before they make up their mind?"

"Well... I have heard the normal time is two months and a week, and if that go well they marry." She sounded absolutely deadpan, but her lips twitched.

Legolas tried to look serious as well, but failed as a giddy, relieved smile plastered itself on his face. "Is that so. Then, perhaps it is time for us too soon?"

Now her smile broke out as well, and her eyes glistened with tears. "I think it is."

"Oh, adanig nín." He took her hand and kissed it. "Will you marry me?"

"I will, my little elf." She wiped her eyes without much success.

He suddenly chuckled. "I had planned to ask you already the night we started to date, but my nerves failed me," he admitted.

"It was good this way too, and I liked dating you. I think I needed a little time to decide. But now I know what I want, and it is you." She kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you." He put his arms around her. "I love you with all my heart, Katharina."

A/N:

Though this is the end, really (as I originally intended this story), I have decided to add a chapter with Legolas' and Kat's wedding and honeymoon, and an epilogue. If you're getting tired of drawn-out fluff, read no further. ;)

Image Credits:

Screenshot from The Lord of the Rings movies.