~Lasriel and Legolas enjoy a saucy morning in bed, but look forward to being alone after the upcoming wedding. Later their parents travel to Lothlórien where they have a lot to explain.~

~♕~

Bad things happen and you can't
do anything about it right?
Right. Wrong!"

– Timon, the Lion King

~♕~

41. Happy

Legolas entered the bedroom, a towel folded over one arm, wearing only his nightgown. His damp hair was unbraided and formed tiny curls around his face.

"I cannot wait until they move out and we get the house to ourselves," he muttered. "I've missed you in the bath these past weeks."

Lasriel folded back the comforter a little. She wasn't wearing anything. "Beds are not bad either."

His eyes were drawn to her breasts, fogging with desire. "True. Are we alone then?"

"Aye, they went out to prepare for the wedding. Now... take that robe off."

When he obediently shrugged out of the garment, a ray of sunlight landed on his shoulders and muscular arms, illuminating them with a golden glow. Droplets of water from his hair covered the smooth skin of his chest like morning dew.

Lasriel would never tire of seeing her husband's perfectly sculpted body.

He approached her slowly, reaching to touch a nipple.

She exhaled and closed her eyes. "Tell me what you want to do."

"Your wish is my command." He leaned over her, tickling her chest with his hair as he murmured: "I plan to slowly expose and kiss every part of you, indulging myself with your beauty, pleasuring myself with your taste. Pleasuring you with my lips."

As he spoke, he kept stroking her nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

She squirmed, a throbbing yearning increasing with each seductive word. "I'm all yours."

"I know."

She liked how possessive he sounded.

"Then," he continued in a low purr, "I will hold you open for me. Plunge deep into your warmth... like a sword into a snug sheath. I will admire your gorgeous body before me, eating you with my eyes... stroking your folds until you quiver around me."

Lasriel clutched the sheets, hoping he would begin before she burned up. As always, his silky tone had the power to set her on fire.

Thankfully he did. Slanting his head, he kissed her deeply, not holding back his passion.

She wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands down his back, enjoying the feeling of his hard planes under her fingers.

First when they were breathless from the intense kiss did he release her. He then commenced to do what he said he would, thoroughly exploring her skin with lips and tongue. Even the most intimate parts.

When their bodies became one much later, she was so ready her prolonged release cascaded through her within seconds, and his own followed not long afterwards.

"That was intense," Lasriel chuckled after she had caught her breath.

"Borrowed part of it from page thirty-six." He winked and gave her nose an affectionate peck. "The book is truly a great resource. Perhaps we should make copies and give away as wedding presents."

"I don't think Gimli needs advice, if Cheery is telling me the truth."

"Not him then, but our parents maybe? Adar who likes to wrestle cows so much ought to try the 'congress of a cow'."

"Hush," Lasriel exclaimed with feigned horror. "I do not want to imagine Naneth and your adar in bed together, especially not in the cow position." Still chuckling, she rolled over to lay on top of him. "However, if you aren't too tired, I feel it is my turn to be the active part. What would you say to some  'riding of a wild horse'?"

He got an expectant gleam in his eyes. "I will gladly be your horse."

~♕~

The three couples stood behind a cover of woven screens, ready to go out to the waiting guests by the river where Glóin would perform the ceremony.

Nimrodel took a calming breath, willing her legs to stop trembling, gripping the lavender bouquet to keep her hands steady. This would just be a simple ceremony. There was nothing to fret about.

Yet, in the corner of her eyes, she saw Thranduil was equally nervous, though he as usual schooled his features to hide it.

Mithrellas kept wiping tears from her eyes. "I never thought this day would come," she said emotionally. "I am so happy." Her bouquet was made of pink roses.

Amroth took her hand and squeezed it. "Me too. Finally we will do this right."

A thought struck Nimrodel. "About that, uh, I have been meaning to ask..." She lowered her voice so the dwarf couple wouldn't hear. "I recall you mentioned something a while ago about certain measures you took not to... eh..." Her voice faltered.

Thranduil rescued her. "We feel it would complicate things too much if we were to beget more children."

"Oh, that." Amroth grinned. "It is simple. I just..." His voice became a low whisper.

Thranduil's cheeks colored. "I shall remember that tonight."

The way he said 'tonight', followed by an interesting glance at Nimrodel, completely vanquished her anxiety over the ceremony. Instead she felt an eager twinge of longing for what would come.

Soon. Tonight.

Cheerful music began at the other side of the screens, and they lined up with the dwarves in the middle.

Gimli looked up at the towering forms on either side. "Never thought I'd get married side by side with four elves," he said to Cheery with laughter in his voice. "But they feel like friends already so I suppose it's alright."

She only smiled happily under her elaborately braided beard, smelling the stalagmite bouquet in her hands.

The screens were pulled aside, and the three couples walked down the aisle to the sound of dwarven and elven music, mingled with the guests' joyful cheer.

~♕~

Though he had planned most of it, Thranduil for once didn't pay much attention during the wedding ceremony. It was enough to see the genuine warmth in the faces of his son and daughter-in-law, and the happiness in his new wife's as they exchanged rings. That the rest of the guests seemed to enjoy the occasion was only a bonus.

Afterwards the wedding feast commenced, with tasty food and wine, much laughter, and great music. The elvish dance circles would last well into the night as was their custom, and further away the dwarves engaged in wrestling competitions as was their tradition. Apparently dwarven newlyweds must wrestle everyone before they were allowed to retreat to bed.

Thranduil was glad he was an elf and could follow the tradition of his people, which was to sneak away when nobody noticed.

"Time to go?" he whispered in Nimrodel's ear, unabashedly giving it a nip.

She made a small gasp, then smiled at his eagerness. "We have not even had dessert yet."

"I can think of a tastier dessert than cake."

Dessert came, and with it more wine, and more beer in the case of the now sweaty and muddy dwarves.

Thranduil swiftly emptied his plate. "Now?"

"Shall we not dance first?"

"Do you want to?"

"It is not necessary..."

That was all he needed. Taking her hand, he pulled her with him. When they reached Legolas' house and the bedroom prepared for them, they were both laughing.

"Do you think anyone saw?" she asked, catching her breath.

"Probably everyone. But I do not care." He picked her up and carried her inside with ease. "I have waited so long for this." He caught her lips in a heated kiss that lasted all the way up the stairs.

Someone had covered the bed in rose petals. They fluttered into the air like pink snowflakes when Thranduil and Nimrodel crashed onto it, still kissing. Arms and legs intertwining, fingers buried in each other's hair, they kissed so closely they could barely breathe.

Nimrodel grappled with his fine coat, trying to tear it off him, and he did likewise with her pearl embroidered dress. He managed to free her breasts and latched onto them, sucking in first one nipple, then the other.

She moaned throatily, chest heaving.

He made a pause so he could unbutton the rest of her dress, briefly admiring the laces and embroidery of her chemise before sliding it off her. It felt surreal to be allowed to see all of her for the first time. Surreal, and breathtaking.

"You too," she said, eyes darkening.

He undressed slowly.

The way she looked as he did so made his stomach flip. The difference between this wedding night and his first one could not have been more absolute; instead of a wife regarding him with fear and disgust, Nimrodel's expression was longing, even hungry.

She pulled him down beside her, unashamedly exploring every part of him with eager hands and lips, soon driving him heady with repressed, unfulfilled desire.

"Wait," he managed.

She released him and parted her legs invitingly. "Take me."

"Not yet." He pushed her back so he could get to know her body as intimately as she just had his, watching her face attentively; memorizing each moan, each hum of approval; learning what she liked.

Her eyes became unfocused. "Come," she whimpered. "I need you... now!"

She didn't have to beg for long.

The feeling when he at last joined her was unlike anything he had felt before. The heat, the welcoming wetness, her eager response as she raised her hips to take in every inch of him.

This was how it should be. This was right.

"Gi melin," he rasped.

"Gi melin, Thranduil."

~♕~

Despite their apprehension to return home, the journey north became pleasurable. Summer had come for real and Middle-earth showed them its best side.

They had brought two tents, and there appeared to be equally little sleeping happening in each despite the fact that Amroth and Mithrellas had been a couple for centuries.

"I feel like we are newlyweds too," Mithrellas explained when they had supper one evening. "For the first time there is no guilt when we are together. It feels... strange. And amazing."

Nimrodel felt no guilt either – which surprised her a little. She had expected at least a small measure of bad conscience that they went against everything they had been taught was right and proper. But on the contrary, being with Thranduil felt less dirty and wrong than it ever had with Amroth. The bond they were forming was solid, as if their match had been written in the stars.

Considering how bad their first marriages had been, it was also surprising how well all four went along now. The proximity of the journey gave opportunities for earnest talking, and for old wounds and grievances to finally heal. They were at last able to apologize for harsh words and petty fights of the past, and be the best versions of themselves instead of the worst. Getting to know one another anew, under more favorable circumstances. Even Thranduil opened up and let the others under his skin.

They decided that if Thranduil was forgiven by his people and allowed to remain King of Greenwood, then Amroth and Mithrellas would move there too. Much as they had lived well on the island, it was a lonely place, and the fishermen didn't really need a lord in a closed castle to manage their lives.

Being among good friends was endlessly to prefer.

When the golden leaves of Lothlórien became visible in the distance, the travelers' temporary bliss was dampened. This would be the first test, and then soon followed by a second ordeal in Greenwood.

Nimrodel had mentally prepared for the worst: banishment and public shame. But expecting something bad didn't make it any easier to put oneself through.

The scouts who approached them at the outskirts of the realm were young and didn't recognize Amroth, Nimrodel or Mithrellas, and hence the four were brought to Caras Galadhon without fuss.

When they arrived in the great tree city, they were met by a flurry of activity. Baskets and bags were loaded on pack horses, and nearly half of the trees were dark, with abandoned talans.

"Lady Galadriel is leaving soon with most of the people," the scout explained.

"Just the lady?" Thranduil asked.

"Aye, Lord Celeborn wishes to stay a while longer." The scout seemed a bit surprised by that.

Now Galadriel and Celeborn came to meet them and Nimrodel's heart began to pound. This was it. The moment of truth.

"You," Galadriel exclaimed. "But... you are in Aman. You should be in Aman!"

Amroth and Mithrellas had grown sickly pale.

"They never left," said Thranduil calmly. His expression was closed and tightly controlled like only he could.

"Disgusting... cheaters," Celeborn choked. "How dare you return here?"

"They are with us." Nimrodel forced herself to sound equally calm. "We forgave them."

People were gathering among them from all directions now, mumbling and whispering; a few obviously recognizing their former king.

"We should go somewhere private," said Galadriel.

"Nay, no more lies," said Amroth, just like he did in Ithilien. He had drawn himself up straighter, no longer cowering under his guilt.

Without waiting for a reply he then began, recounting his long tale for the third audience – this time in part consisting of former subjects and even friends.

The silence was deafening when he was done, the eyes of the onlookers wide and baffled.

Thranduil then took over, describing the more recent events with their reunion; how they had forgiven each other, and the reasoning behind their decision to remarry. Everything out in the open.

"We were married the day before we left Ithilien to travel here," he finished. "Our son and daughter were among the guests. After we explained everything, they were not opposed to the match."

Nimrodel cut in. "They were happy for us. That we chose love instead of conventions."

Again the chocked silence resumed.

The first one to speak was Celeborn. "But... elves only love once." He sounded old and tired somehow.

Galadriel glanced at him. "Or never," she said silently.

Celeborn bit his lip. Then he sighed. "Or never, aye... how many marriages among us are without love? I think there are quite a few."

Several of the bystanders looked down, shuffling their feet uncomfortably.

Nimrodel felt a tendril of hope. They understood.

"I treated you harshly that time," said Galadriel. "Perhaps because I... envied you. You dared do what no one ever had before." She looked sadly at Celeborn. "My husband and I protested in our own way. We lived apart for long periods of time, especially in our youth. And even now, I am about to depart for my homeland Aman while he lingers behind. Yet, for all my wisdom, I never once thought to question the law that says elvish marriages cannot be made undone."

"I am sorry you were banished and for all the suffering that brought," said Celeborn. "My wife did not see fit to inform me of the truth or perhaps the outcome had been different."

"Nobody can know that," she snapped. Then her face softened. "But I suppose I am sorry too. I have missed you, mellyn."

"Dwelling in the past is futile," said Nimrodel kindly. "We can only look forward and make sure not to repeat past mistakes."

The conversation under the trees continued well into the night, and Nimrodel's hope for the future grew stronger. Still not everyone in Lothlórien believed it was right to end a loveless marriage, but those were in the minority – and even they accepted her and the others' right to decide for themselves whether to break the ancient laws and customs of the elves.

And what was more important; the truth about Amroth, Nimrodel and Mithrellas was out at last. Amroth would never be King of Lothlórien again – he didn't want to, even if Celeborn stepped down – but his true story was known now, and his few surviving friends could visit him in Greenwood if he were to settle there.

No more lies, like he had said, and no more secrets.

In the morning they said their farewells and set out for Greenwood, and Galadriel for the Grey Havens where her ship waited.

"Right," said Thranduil a bit tensely. "One realm left, and then we know how it will be. Shall we be outcast islanders or forest dwellers?"

A/N:

The next chapter will be the last one. :)

Translations: Gi melin = I love you, mellyn = friends.