We stood facing each other, but a little over an arm’s length apart. Ithil shone down upon us, touching him with a true-silvered hand. The warm breeze ruffled both our hair. All I could see was the culmination of my dreams. Oh, there were other things I hoped for, other things I dreamed, but this was and always had been the heart of my heart. That he would know happiness. That we would be as one.
He looked steadily at me, then placed his heavy shield on the ground. His spear, which was nigh inseparable from him, followed, lain deliberately and with care at my feet. Then came a variety of smaller armaments, from his gauntlets, boots and belt. He stood upright again, smiling at me, having laid his total defence down quite literally. I gasped, understanding his meaning, and I heard Marawendi make a little gasp, too. I would explain later that it was not a Noldorin custom, but a gesture that was unique to Estarfin.
He took a deep breath, his expression serious. “I stand defenceless before you, “ he said in Quenya.
My heart pounded at such a confession. I bit my lip. “As I do before you, Meldanya.” It was true. “There is no barrier I can raise to keep my heart and spirit from you. Nor is there even the remotest desire to do so.”
“My heart is open to you, “he continued.
I nodded, unable to stop myself from smiling. For an instant I wondered if my parents knew…if his parents knew, even Caranthir, who had forbidden this, knew? Strangely, I was certain our Prince would now approve. But it was only an instant. Estarfin took up all my thoughts. Never again would I totally lose him. If we died, we would in time find our way back to each other in the Halls of Lord Námo, even as it was said Finwë found Miriel. That great grief of my life would not be repeated.
I looked down, the significance of the moment both weighing on me, and lifting my feä to Iluvatar in thanks. “Then we are agreed,” I spoke softly. I removed my treasured betrothal ring, the most precious thing to me after him. It had been crafted so superbly I thought for a moment I should have brought my jeweller’s tools to lay down at his feet, acknowledging that, on that occasion, he was the better jewel smith. “We will share our lives together from now on.”
He took off his gauntlets and laid them down, removing the betrothal ring I had fashioned for him, with the small diamonds taken from the sands around what was left of Mount Rerir.
“I stand before Tintallë with no hesitation, under no threat or force. I have come of my own free will to this place.” he said.
“I, also, am here of my own free will. And after six and a half thousand years, I can say I have no hesitation.” Again I spoke the more formal words in Quenya. “May Tintallë watch over us both.”
The breeze blew up a little more. As if in reply, Estarfin's cloak and the long skirt of my gown danced to their own tunes. I could see the moonlight picking up the thread with which Parnard had embroidered my gown, so beautiful, almost as threads of starlight tinged with the glow of Anor.
Estarfin took a step closer to me. I watched his every move with joy.
“I required no vow or oath from you on this day. Do you require one from me?”
I shook my head. He had my total trust. Why would I seek to constrain him in any manner? “We made our vows at our betrothal. You are free to be you, as I am free to be me, and we both know we are also ‘us’. None are perfect. We will each make mistakes, disagree, argue even, though I hope that is not often. We will disappoint each other at times. But always will I listen when you speak, and always will I seek your good and happiness.”
What more could I say? There were no set rules for our words, only that we were agreed before Iluvatar, as in the case of some unions in times past. I looked into his eyes, as he looked into mine. Tintallë’s stars were reflected therein, a timeless moment in the midst of eternity. And I felt so thankful. He was one of but a few remaining who still had much of their strength of old. A Noldo, tall and proud, willing to stand guard at whatever ill was sent against us. I still had a measure of that too, as did Belegos, Curumaito, and Ceuro most likely. But few and far between was the power to resist evil so notable. How could I not want the best for him? We had both lost family, friends, and home. Although in different ways, we had both resigned ourselves to a life alone. Now it would no longer be so. A last flowering of our blood’s heritage perhaps? To that thought, I lay the small bunch of Aeglos I had held in my left hand, before his feet. We had both also followed Gil-Galad, though neither had known of the other at the time.
He smiled again, perhaps remembering the High King, as he lowered his gaze to look at the sprigs.
“The betrothal rings we must return, but first let us call on our witnesses?” Both were customary gestures, but the first saddened me, as I saw it sadden him. He slid his ring from his finger, as I had mine.
We turned to Parnard and Marawendi, now speaking in Sindarin so they could understand clearly.
During the ceremony, Parnard nodded, as if he understood everything completely, as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Beside him, Marawendi stared, wide-eyed. “What must we do?” she had asked him at the start.
He adjusted the flower wreath on his head, and straightened up to his full height. “Don’t tell me you do not know what a witness is, Marawendi.”
She blushed to the tips of her ears at her display of ignorance. “I do not know,” she whispered.
I think we both smiled encouragingly at her, though we were very focused on each other. Marawendi was young and keen, and had a quite different background from us.
Parnard whispered a quick explanation to her then nodded over at us. It seemed that they were ready.
I held out my betrothal ring. “I return this ring to you, it being something most dear to me. I know the time and attention it required from you. Am I not a jewel smith? “ I looked pointedly at Estarfin.
He sighed and handed the one I had made him back to me. It was custom to return them. I was not overly fond of that point. I placed the betrothal ring I had made for Estarfin in the small, invisible pocket sewn into the seam of my gown, and took out the plain gold wedding ring I had made for him.
He smiled as he saw it, then tucking away my betrothal ring, took out a thin and elegant silver ring.
Our customs were that betrothal rings were silver, and oft held gems, while wedding rings were plain gold. Whatever his reason for offering me a silver one, it would be welcomed by me.
I held out the gold ring. “This I made this for you, with all my heart. I made it from gold nuggets Parnard and I found on the beach at the remains of Mount Rerir, off Forlindon’s coast.”
Estarfin raised his brows.
“They were glimmering in one of the streams that ran down to the sea. An unexpected gift from what was once home, to be part of the home we now make.”
Estarfin held out his index finger and I put the ring on carefully. It was meant to remain there for a very long time.
“I humbly call upon Eru Iluvatar, who is above all, who created all, and upon Tintallë, Lady of the stars, to bear witness. I call upon Parnard and Marawendi of the Greenwood, to bear witness to my choice.
Parnard called out, “The witnesses are ready.”
Marawendi nodded and echoed “Ready.”
I looked up at Estarfin, “I have loved you since our youth, as you well know. Never would I consider another, for to me, none could ever be what I wanted. Estarfin, for all the Ages to come, and beyond, I chose you to be my husband, in hroa and in fëa.” I felt the blood rush to my face, a response that had lessened somewhat over recent yeni, but I was happy beyond measure.
He bowed deeply before me, his sea-grey eyes never leaving mine. Then he rose, and showed me the simple silver ring he had made. Old silver, true silver it looked, from a time long past.
He spoke in Quenya again, but no matter, it would be translated for the others later. “The ring I made for you is a simple thing, a slender silver band with no gem or decoration. It is all that remains of the silver comb my mother gave to me when I left Thargelion. It was broken when I fell in the Hithaeglir. You found it there; it would have been lost, I would have been lost without you.”
I bowed to him in respect, my eyes moistening with tears at that memory, and at the significance to him of that ring. Then he placed the ring on my index finger, a ring that held one of his most precious memories.
“As Telperion and Laurelin were most beautiful when their light was mingled, so shall we be. A ring of gold and a ring of silver. Before Tintallė, and humbly before Eru Iluvatar himself, he who made our folk to awaken on the shores of Cuiviénan, I ask you to be my wife, until the world is broken and made anew, and beyond. Will you have me?”
“I shall treasure this ring, both as the wedding ring that it is, and as a reminder of your mother, who loved you dearly. And yes, of course I will have you as my husband. Could there ever be any doubt?” My heart could hardly contain my happiness. I confess that while I was captivated by the beauty of the moment, I also wished the ceremony was over, that we could be alone, but there were a few more matters to attend first.
There was one more thing I would give him. “Estarfin, you know that in the past a family would gift their new member; a bride's mother would gift the groom, a groom’s father would gift the bride?”
He nodded, a little apprehensively.
I took out what I had made from my useful pocket. “My mother is not with us, neither do you need reminding of what this is and means. But it is something else you may treasure.” I opened my hand to show him a sturdy made brooch, to pin to a cloak or tunic. A Fëanorian star it was, formed from what truly was the last of my mithril, with a diamond at its heart, and small sky-fire stones between the rays.
Estarfin took my free hand in his, and looked at the brooch with wide eyes.
“It is similar to the first piece I ever worked on. That piece that caught Celebrimbor’s eye.” I said, hoping it was to his liking.
He hung his head. “Gladly would I accept such a wondrous thing, but I have nothing to give you in return.”
I was not surprised, but a touch saddened that my honouring of him had in truth made him reproach his own oversight. “What is this, Meldanya? It is but a custom I recalled and wanted to continue. It is a sign of our people, to wear with pride. It is to remember home, even as we build a new home. It is to remember who and what we are.” I rose up on my toes to take the star from him and attach it to his tunic. “You have already gifted me all I can ever want.”
He looked me in the eye. “Who we were, who we are, who we shall become.”
“Indeed, Estarfin.”
He took my hand again. “We have made known our words to our witnesses. We have exchanged rings.” He drew me close, and softly whispered “Rácarnë”.
I encircled his neck with my arms, drawing him closer “Artanaro,” I whispered in return. And he kissed me, not the light kiss of affection, but one more appropriate for our relationship. Some part of my mind knew Parnard was whispering again, explaining our names (1) of endearment to Marawendi, and it was not that I did not care, but my world was suddenly whole. I kissed him back, with a slightly more ‘unseemly’ passion than before. “I love and trust you, son of Thargelion. We are one. We must live our lives, and make up for some of the time taken from us. “
I think Estarfin was so lost in our closeness, he did not react for a moment, then he turned to face the Wood-elves with an expression that suggested he had forgotten they were there. He smiled at them.
Parnard grinned back, while Marawendi blushed just a little, and bobbed her head.
“Yes husband, these are our witnesses. They have been here all along,” I explained.
“My thanks,” he bowed to them both, then turned to face the figure of Tintallë. He nodded to me, and we turned and bowed together to the Star-Kindler, who watched over us.
“Thank you both for honouring us with your presence,” I said to our witnesses.
And Estarfin and I looked at each other as if etching this memory into our fear (3), as something to be treasured for ever. He ran his fingers affectionately through my hair.
“We should return to Númenstáya?” I asked.
He nodded. “Indeed. We should show our faces to the household, so they may begin their celebrations before this night is over.”
“Yes,” I agreed. It was proper to recognise our friends' enthusiasm. I reached for his hand as we four walked back to the horses. “But this night is ours, and we will not stay with them for too long.”
He picked up his discarded weapons and replaced them. Took up shield and spear. I took up the aeglos bouquet. We were Noldor, nigh the last of our kind in these lands. The time of Men was fast approaching, but we would remain. We would be part of the oncoming struggle against Sauron, to die if necessary defending our old homelands. What we would not do was renege upon what we saw as our duty.
- Epesse - An after-name given to another, in this case one given by lovers, as Galadriel’s name was given her by Celeborn.
- Fear- Plural of fëa, so ‘spirits’.
