~ Wynne meets the elves she's supposed to marry but they don't seem very nice... ~

2. Meeting the Elvenking

Wynne spotted the group of elves at a long distance. They had built a simple camp just offshore of the Anduin river and seemed to be waiting for her, lined up as they were in a semicircle.

Almost despite herself she relaxed her seat, causing her gray mare to slow her pace and nervously toss her head. Vatna was sensitive to her rider's emotions.

All the way here Wynne had tried and failed to think of ways to escape this trap. Should she run away somewhere and hide until the elves got tired of waiting? But ten mearas weren't exactly inconspicuous and she could never abandon them. Should she try to fail on purpose? Just ride with the elves as their groom and never act out Mother's instructions? But then she would have to face her wrath on her return and that was even more intimidating than marrying an elf.

No, she simply had no choice. Her mother had willed this, and when she willed something it happened. Wynne must make the elves like her, somehow; there was no other option.

One did not oppose Mother.

Reluctantly she nudged Vatna to step into the cool water. The river was shallow here, with large stones peeking up at intervals, so the horses could wade over easily.

At the other side she got a closer look at the waiting elves and the sight made her almost ashamed that she had doubted Mother's description of their beauty, and instead mentally compared them to the ugly men at the marketplace. They were tall and looked strong but there ended all likeness with them. These males were indeed beautiful, strikingly handsome in a knee weakening way.

Two of them were dark, with brown skin and raven black hair, one was a redhead and the final two were blond. All five had flawless faces; no wrinkles, no scars, no birth marks anywhere to be seen, and their waist long hair had intricate braiding on the sides of their heads. Unlike Wynne's tousled, brown tresses, not a single strand of their hair seemed to be misplaced.

Even their clothes were beautiful, spotlessly clean despite having camped out of doors. Feeling conscious, she glanced at her wrinkled tunic, her hose with grass stains on the knees and her leather boots covered in mud and horse dung.

Oh well, if Mother was right, she wouldn't need clean clothes or smooth hair, all it would take was some nudity.

Thinking about undressing in front of the elves made her cringe with embarrassment but she knew she had to at least try if she would ever succeed in getting one into her bed.

"Greetings, human, I am King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, and you must be the representative of the House Örn. I had imagined you somewhat older... and male." The blond elf that had spoken looked down his nose at her, which must have been hard considering she was still on horseback.

His grandeur was intimidating; he wore the most elegant outfit of the group, a fur lined cloak over a tunic in a silvery material, and carried two slender swords in jeweled scabbards.

Wynne didn't know where to look and clenched her fists hard to hide her trembling. "Greetings sire. I am Wynne Örn, daughter of Vinur, Lord of Limliht, at your service." She made a slight bow and dismounted, trying not to wobble on her suddenly weak legs.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady." He looked like he was not pleased at all, taking in her simple clothing, weathered features and small stature, and immediately dismissing her as useless.

Sweet Vána, this would never work! He hated her already, her husband-to-be if Mother had her way.

The king examined the horses, seemingly trying to find fault with them also, but this at least wouldn't be possible. They were outstanding, even the pack animals. Wynne herself might be a disappointment but she need not be ashamed of her mearas, the famous horse breed of Rohan.

Despite this, the king did manage to find a complaint.

"Where are the reins and saddles?" He sounded accusing. "I see you have saddlebags on the pack horses but no riding gear at all on the mounts. Why is this?"

A wave of annoyance chased away part of Wynne's fear. Who was this elf to question her competence as a horsewoman? Reins and saddles? Her proud animals would never have to endure the hard pull of steely bits in their soft mouths or the chafering of saddles, it was bad enough they must carry strangers on their noble backs.

"You won't need that. These are well trained horses." She tried to sound calm but the king's disdainful look made it hard.

"You want us to ride bareback like savages?" He somehow managed to sound even more arrogant than before. "If you are indeed a lady of the Rohirrim you should know it is impossible to fight on horseback without saddles."

Wynne was almost bristling now and bit down a harsh answer. Had he just questioned her identity? If he wanted a saddle so badly he should have borrowed a coarse Gondorian carthorse instead of a meara.

The elf rudely turned his back on her to confer with a couple of the others in a foreign language.

She glared at him. This was the elf king she was supposed to marry? There was no way she could go through with that! To be forced to endure living together with someone like him must be almost as horrible as facing Mother's anger. Besides, he would likely not agree to it even if she was the last woman in Middle-earth.

The other blond elf approached her and stroked Vatna's soft muzzle. "Your horses are beautiful. Do not worry; I am sure we can fight just as well on foot." He lowered his voice and blinked mischievously. "Most elves prefer riding bareback, you know. Father is just afraid of getting hairs on his fancy clothes."

"I heard that," snapped the king icily.

"You cannot deny it is true, though." Chuckling, he dipped his head at Wynne. "I am Legolas, by the way. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too, sire." She bowed. This was the prince who was her second choice in marriage, according to Mother. He looked slightly nicer than the king and was much simpler dressed in a hunter's green tunic with a bow strapped onto his back.

Wynne appreciated that he complimented her horses, but she didn't like his teasing smirk. As if he thought his father's displeasure was just a fun game.

Thranduil had finished talking to the others. "I have a suggestion, my lady. I shall take the horses and borrow them this spring and summer as agreed, and return them by early fall. We can tend to them ourselves so your service will not be needed after all." In his commanding voice it sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

"I can't agree to that, sire." She tried to sound polite but he made it very hard. "Where my horses go, I go, or we have no deal." She tried to stand tall and look imperious like him.

Perhaps if her hair had been long and flowing and her eyebrows as intimidating as his she could have succeeded. Now she probably just looked silly.

"The quest we will embark upon is not a children's game, girl. We will battle vile monsters and ride long hours. It is no place for a young woman."

Wynne's stomach plummeted. Monsters? What monsters? Did he mean orcs, or... worse? Trolls? Dragons?

Her mouth had gone dry but she couldn't let her fear show. "My father and Aragorn apparently thought differently, for they assigned me this task and I am not afraid," she lied. Somehow the elf's condescending behavior brought forward an unknown source of stubbornness and pride in her.

"Suit yourself then. Remember I have warned you. If you fall behind or encumber us in any way I shall send you straight back and make do without the horses."

She gave a slight nod, hoping that he wouldn't notice her shivering. Could she really manage this? What if the first sight of a monster made her so frightened that she panicked? If she was sent home it would be an absolute disgrace to her House. Not to mention how furious it would make Mother.

She would have to pretend. Pretend to be a fearless, independent woman, a woman of the world, who was not afraid to be among monsters – or males, for that matter. She must act strong, as if she wore invisible armor.

She imagined herself dressing up in chainmail, putting on a helmet with only a tiny slit for the eyes like a warrior, and the thought made her straighten her back and lift her chin. Was she not the daughter of a Rohirrim lord? Was her House not one of the finest in the Mark, and her Grandmama related to the most famous of kings, Aragorn himself? Distantly, yes, but still!

Growing up in her mother's shadow had hardened her. How scary could a bunch of monsters be compared to her?

She could do this.

A/N:

A note about elves and riding: Tolkien explains in one of his letters that many elves ride bareback and use bridles without bits, but others – Glorfindel, for example – uses a saddle. Maybe because it's so impractical to fight on horseback without one. Legolas prefers to ride bareback and always did so on his previous horse Arod.

Secondly, about mearas: True mearas will only allow very special people to ride on them, such as the Rohan king – or wizards like Gandalf – so how come Wynne's family can breed them and even lend them to strangers? This mystery will be explained in later chapters. :)

And finally, about Aragorn: After becoming king he was officially called Elessar, but Wynne's mother taught her to use the more informal Aragorn – as if they are close friends (they aren't lol, she never met him).

Thanks for reads, votes and comments so far! ♡♡♡