Dawnstar and Friend

Eleanor POV
After our first day I don’t think prince charming turns up very often, I think his father’s tactic to stop the lovers doing frequent Romeo and Juliet impression is to keep him extremely busy.
Meanwhile he also tries to keep us all occupied as well, made harder by the fact that Ginny insists that no-one is to see her dress before the day.
The awkward one is when, while she is in another fitting session, Miriel, Silva and I are invited to have tea with Imrahil’s dowager mother.
Crap.
Please don’t recognise us, please don’t recognise us, please don’t recognise us.
Thankfully for us she has gammy eyes.
Silva doesn’t seem to understand why Miriel and I are so cautious round the old lady and thankfully for us, does most of the talking.
There is one really awkward moment though.
The old lady leans back and starts to reminisce.
“I remember my midwife was called Ginny, she was a lady from the north you know. She had two elf friends with her. Now what were they called?”
“Mary, Irella? Something like that, that one had pale blonde hair but her friend had light brown hair that glowed red in some light. She was Lenora or something like that.”
“Oh, my memory has gone bad. They all had these large pets though. Left very soon afterwards, wonder what or where they went to.”
Silva gives us a sharp look and we nod sheepishly at her.
She has worked out why we are so uneasy round the old lady.
***
Over the next few days we visit Ginny frequently and much to our amusement, one of these visits, she suddenly starts wishing for an elfin style wedding.
Which results in teasing, of course.
The next day Imrahil decides that it is a fantastic time to have Ginny’s miniature painted.
And you will never guess why.
Yup. Tradition
This guy needs to loosen up.
I guess it is true what they say, that middle age is when a broad mind and a thin waist swap places.
Imrahil doesn’t get it but I think Ginny’s miniature will have a slightly stormy expression because all the way through the sitting I hum and sing the words to the song ‘Tradition’ from fiddler on the roof.
She also fidgets a lot, but that is to be expected.
***
The night before the wedding Ginny has her dress brought up and we all try to get a look at it, I mean wouldn’t you.
It is sort of like Christmas has come early actually.
That evening I have to return the favour of allowing Ginny to cry on my shoulder and let out all the nerves of the preparations.
I do feel for her, it seems ten times worse for her because at least the elves were willing to accept the multicultural nature of my wedding but Imrahil seems so very stuffy.
After she has finished crying herself out Silva comes in with a sleeping drug and we help Ginny go to bed.
The deliberate isolation has managed to hide one thing and that is the arrival of Gandalf, who Ginny had wanted to perform the ceremony.
We had a bit of trouble getting him but we did eventually manage it, he is after all the closest thing we have to a priest here.
When I see her come out with Erestor I am so glad he adopted her, every girl deserves to have her father escort her on their wedding day.
I suddenly get the urge to cry, I had neither my real parents nor my adopted parents on my wedding day. It didn’t really affect me then but now ...
Anyway
When Ginny steps out of the room with Erestor I think she gets the entrance she wanted.
Everyone is gaping at her and I follow suit, thinking it is much better to do a flycatcher impression than to burst into tears.
I think I understand why people always cry at weddings now.
The ceremony is suitably moving, though rather weird for me.
Afterward we go and have the traditional party afterwards.
Ginny dances with Amrothos and I am happy for them but I spend virtually all of the evening no more than a step or two from tears, I really am a sap sometime for all my bravado.
My suddenly gooey sentiments don’t stop me and Miriel from going over to Amrothos and instructing him on the traditions for weddings in England though. I would have done this before but it has been near impossible to find the prince before the wedding.
I guess Imrahil didn’t want us helping Ginny in her assumed quest to break with tradition.
I can’t help noticing that Erestor cannot help from trying to hog the number of dances he has with his oldest daughter.
You would never realise she was not his really daughter if she were an elf rather than a human from his behaviour.
That observation also has me almost in tears.
Later on in the evening we get to dance with Ginny and shortly after that Imrahil calls time, and those that are the attendants on both sides of the couple escort them up to their bedroom.
As per instructions, Amrothos swings Ginny up in his arms and carried her over the threshold into her new quarters.
Imrahil frowns at this and when the door is closed asks what the hell that was about.
I am the one who answers.
“It is a tradition from the world which Ginny hails, Prince Imrahil, I thought you were fond of Traditions. Or is that only for you own ones?”
Alright, I am still a bit pissed off with him for his behaviour throughout the preparation period.
I then flounce off suitably dramatically.
I will give these medieval dresses that; you can do just about anything in them suitably dramatically.
Especially flouncing.
Instead of going back to the party, which is still in full flow inside, I go off to the gardens to think.
After a little time I feel some arms wrap around me and turn to see my husband holding me.
He kisses me gently then pulls back.
We do not talk much, really and soon he carries me off to bed to find something more cheerful to do than mope.
My husband is a wonder for creating something to improve my mood.
I barely need an empath ever with my nice new husband.
That is a good job really, as I think my empath is a bit preoccupied with her own husband, if the noises from that balcony overhead are anything to go by.
I should tell them to keep the noise down or find a way to block it out when I see them next, they are terribly noisy.
Ginny’s POV
I don’t get to see Amrothos much after that first night; there are so many things to prepare for, my dress for one.
Everyone bugs me endlessly when I start going for fittings and whatnot, but I refuse to tell them anything; the tradition of no one seeing the bride’s dress until the actual wedding is being thoroughly adhered to – I’ve even sworn the seamstresses to secrecy.
When I’m not up to my eyes in wedding preparations, I find other ways to keep myself busy, such as going out for long, long rides, anything to keep my mind from wandering back to the approaching nuptials.
Of course that also means not being able to go much into the city seeing as virtually everyone has now heard about the wedding. I get a constant stream of questions whenever I put a single foot outside the palace grounds – now I know what Aragorn must have felt like when Miriel and I started everyone in Minas Tirith gossiping about his wedding.
The ceremony is basically the same as that of Aragorn and Arwen’s, of course that also begs the question as to who is actually going to be presiding over it. I know who I want to marry us, but it’s finding him that’s the trouble.
I casually mention my choice to Ada and he immediately sets out to look. I do hope he’s successful...
***
As the wedding edges nearer, my nerves start to rise.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous; I mean I love Amrothos and I know that he would never not show up (Ada would kill him if he did run away), but I still can’t shake off the feeling of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
Maybe it’s all this pomp and ceremony being poured into the wedding; I complain about this one night when we girls are all in my sitting room,
“Why can’t we be bound like elves, it’s a hell of a lot simpler and far more romantic.”
“But before you implied that you didn’t want an elfin binding, in fact you made it seem like you were almost mocking Ellie and I with the prospect.” questions Miriel.
“Yes, well, that was before I’d met Amrothos...”
It’s true that the ceremony of the occasion does seem to be taking over my life; I just can’t sit still, I fidget and babble continuously. It’s got so frequent now that everyone just lets me go off on a tangent until I’ve talked myself hoarse.
I do hope, however, that the main reason is that everyone understands how I feel, seeing as most of them have already been in this situation before.
When I say fidget, I mean fidget, so why does Imrahil think this is a good time to call in the court painter so he can paint my miniature for the family tree?
Guess; just take one wild stab in the dark... that’s right, tradition.
Now this really is a stupid tradition – why couldn’t the earlier Dol Amrothians have painted the miniature after the wedding? At least then they would get an actual likeness to the happiness of their subject, rather than a gibbering bundle of nerves with a rather forced smile on their lips.
Well that’s the impression I got when Imrahil took me to the room where the family tree lines the walls.
***
On the eve of my wedding, the seamstresses bring over my dress – this manages to cause quite a stir among all the females within earshot, I rather seem to have created a little frenzy where the subject of my wedding dress is concerned.
Not that I let anyone, even Naneth, see it.
There is a soft tap at my door, Ellie enters.
“I thought you might want a bit of company.” She sits beside me and takes my hand – the image is startlingly similar to when I comforted Ellie just before her wedding.
“You thinking about tomorrow?”
“Partly; I’m thinking about England and my birth family mostly.” Ellie’s grip tightens slightly.
Suddenly tears begin spilling down my cheeks and Ellie clutches me to her.
“It’s stupid really; I mean I have thought about our old lives on and off before, but it’s really only tonight that I’ve given them any proper attention... I thought I would wear my Mum’s wedding dress, that my Dad would give me away, and that I’d die at 80, not still be living 40 years after.”
I feel myself shaking and cling to Ellie. Naneth enters, holding a glass of water. I look up at her, trying to calm myself down,
“I don’t suppose either of you know a good Empath? I could sure use some calming down right now.”
“I’m afraid we can’t stretch to that, Ginny, but we do have the next best thing.” Naneth indicates the glass she’s holding.
Both Naneth and Ellie help me undress and then sit on the edge of my bed whilst I drain the glass. The effect is almost instantaneous; the room begins to swim before my eyes, I feel someone remove the glass from my hand, I close my eyes and am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
The long sleep does me good at the very least I’m not tired anymore. My nerves haven’t abated though; they come back in full force when my maid, a lovely girl known as Polly, enters to escort me to the bathing chamber for my special bath.
The bathing chambers here are completely unlike the elfin ones, they’re far more practical for a start. Not that I’m sure a session in even the Rivendell bath house would calm me down anymore.
I still don’t feel completely loosened up after my warm bath, so Polly runs to fetch Naneth so she can give me a massage with some of her special elfin massage oil.
Then it’s time to dress. Despite myself, I still insist that I’m left alone with Polly to dress – I plan to make an entrance, but I do get Ellie to do my make-up for me before I leave them.
The under-dress is made of ivory-cream silk; it has a small train, and is an off-the-shoulder cut. The over-dress – cut to the same design as the under-dress – is made of the finest gossamer in the palest golden colour imaginable; it is open at the front of the skirt to reveal the delicate gold and diamond embroidery that weaves itself all over the under-dress. The sleeves of the over-dress are tiny little puffs, which allow the bells of the under-dress to flow out down to the ground.
This being a Gondorian style of dress, it is completely closed at the back, but it is secured with a delicate golden ribbon, which criss-crosses all the way down my spine.
My hair is brushed until it shines and is silky to the touch. The only adornments I wear are my silver circlet and a diamond and pearl comb which helps to keep my hair back from my face.
Someone knocks at the door,
“Ginny?” It’s Ada.
I nod to Polly and she lets him in.
I don’t turn around immediately, I’m trying to compose my face. Then slowly, ever so gracefully, I turn to face my guardian.
His mouth is open in amazement; then, as he looks me up and down, his expression changes to fatherly joy and pride. He holds out his arms and I almost fling myself into his embrace.
“Ginny, you look... I’ve never been so proud of you. Amrothos is a very, very lucky man.”
He then lays my hand over his and leads me to where the others are waiting. They’re grouped in a circle, only Naneth is facing us. The change in her expression causes the others to turn around.
There is complete silence, even Vanlanthiriel is quiet. I think I have just made the entrance of a lifetime...
Everyone falls into step behind Ada and I as he leads me through the now deserted palace to the sunny courtyard outside the entrance.
We meet Amrothos and his attendants by the palace doors; they are all dressed in the blue and silver of Dol Amroth. Ada then puts my hand into Amrothos’ before taking his place behind us and following as we walk through the waiting crowd to the raised platform where Gandalf is waiting.
I can’t really describe how I’m feeling during the ceremony: nervous, happy, shy, excited... I go through them all...
Suddenly it’s time for us to exchange our betrothal rings for the gold wedding ones... to tell you the truth, it’s almost a shock – all day I feel as though I’ve been watching outside my body, but now I’m right there, watching Gandalf tying the red chord around our hands.
Amrothos and I hold each other’s gaze as we say our vows – I suddenly relax, feeling certain that I’ve made the right choice.
Gandalf is saying something, but I only catch one word: kiss...
Everyone is still cheering and clapping when we break apart, Amrothos grins and pulls me in for a second kiss causing one or two wolf-whistles, but why should I care?
We then lead everyone into the cavernous banqueting hall for the feast and ball.
Like the wedding receptions in my old home, Amrothos and I are the only ones to dance the first dance; after that, the floor is continually full with dancing couples.
I dance with all my friends and family throughout the evening, I even dance a fast number with Vanlanthiriel and my two best friends making a circle in the middle of the floor. Ada in particular seems eager to dance, I think he’s trying desperately to hold on to me for one last time before he truly loses me to Amrothos.
It’s during one of my dances with Ada that I spot Ellie and Miriel standing a little way apart from everyone else whispering to Amrothos. They seem to be instructing him in something...
Eventually and, paradoxically, in no time at all, Imrahil calls a halt to the festivities and Amrothos and I are escorted to his rooms – nerves again.
Everyone cheers when Amrothos suddenly and totally unexpectedly sweeps me up into his arms and carries me across the ‘threshold’. I then get one last look at everyone before he kicks the door shut.
Immediately afterwards, Amrothos sets me on my feet before kissing me deeply.
We stand there for quite a while, gently kissing and caressing each other.
When we do stop, I remove my circlet and comb and shake my hair so that it’s hangs like a silken blanket down my back. Amrothos cups my face in his hands,
“Beautiful... that’s what I first noticed about you... your hair as you let it cascade down your back. Do you remember?”
Of course I remember – maybe I have been unknowingly attracted to Amrothos ever since that first meeting.
There’s no more talk after that, just movement as we steadily move towards the bedroom, Amrothos gradually losing his clothing until only his leggings are left.
I’m still in my dress so Amrothos moves behind me and begins to slowly undo the ribbon.
When he’s finished, he suddenly wraps his arms about me, still holding up my dress.
“I’m going to love you, Ginny; love you until the day I die.”
“So shall...” I pause... oh god, not now.
But I suddenly realise that I don’t care anymore. I don’t care how long we will have together, but I’m going to make every moment of it count... starting right now.
I loosen Amrothos’ arms and turn around to face him whilst, without the slightest sound, my dress falls unheeded to the floor...