Author's Note: HEY GUYS! Below is semi-long explanation of both my absence and the creative process (or lack thereof…) behind this chapter, but you are more than welcome to skip it. If nothing else, please do check out the summary right below this though!

When I first started writing this sequel, I intended for it to be a fun way to stay in touch with Meghan and Legolas since I had so many ideas for their life post-LotR. I envisioned doing multi-chaptered arcs that covered milestones and smaller stories, but not necessarily doing a linear chapter-by-chapter fic that hit every step along the way. Somewhere in the first chapters I lost sight of that and sort of wrote myself into a corner by getting into the nitty-gritty of every day life, and literally planning Sindarin grammar lessons, and I didn't know what to do with Legolas so I sent him off on patrols, and I was like… this is boring as dirt. As much as I love my girl Megs, it very quickly turned into a weird repetitive cycle of her being an oddball who wanted to bang Legolas ASAP while his family stared on in varying degrees of disapproval. Yawn. I just didn't know what to do with her during that adjustment period. So you know what? I'M SKIPPING THAT WHOLE YEAR BYE. I'm going to jump right into the stories I want to tell, and I'm going to just sum up what happens in the interim because you're all smart and fun readers who can get up to speed in no time. I figure it's better to actually write something instead of being paralyzed by disappointment and indecision, right? So here's a cast of characters (because y'all… it's been almost two years) and quick summary of what I've casually leapt over:

Cast of Characters:
Thranduil – do I even need to do this for him
Gwaethir – Legolas' older brother, general rapscallion but also the nicest guy you'll meet
Alassëa – Legolas' younger sister, cute as a button but is the Elvish embodiment of "do it for the vine"
Dúlinneth – used to be something of a nanny to the royal kiddos, now helps run the household
Hérion – Dúlinneth's husband, overall cool guy
Nesseldë – Hérion and Dúlinneth's daughter, one of Alassëa's de facto friends since they grew up together
Nídhrond – not a person but a place; this is the name I gave to Thranduil's city/palace/whatever in Mirkwood

Summary: Meghan has been in Mirkwood for about a year total. She's maintained correspondence with pretty much everybody outside, especially Ioreth and Éowyn. She's fluent in Sindarin at this point and has mostly adjusted to the Elf life. She and Legolas are planning to take a smallish group of woodelves to settle in Ithilien in the near future, and Legolas has gone a couple of times to scout out the area. Ithilien is a province of Gondor btw, and Faramir and Éowyn already have a little colony there. This chapter begins in the best and only place it can: the morning of Meghan and Legolas' wedding day.

Elves did not have any superstition about the groom seeing the bride before the wedding. In fact, weddings were less a structured ceremony and more of a party, at least in Mirkwood. Legolas being a prince did lend a certain gravitas to the day, but there had been no rehearsal or pre-parties, and most of the preparation focused on the banquet itself.

Still, Meghan felt a little thrill of rebellion as she flung the door open to his particular knock. She had long been moved from the House of Healing into a wing of the royal quarters, but it was on the far opposite side from Legolas' – a fact that had often made her wonder just how much supervision Thranduil thought she needed when it came to his secondborn. Not that it mattered anymore, because the long year of patience had finally ended, and they were moving into entirely new quarters together that night.

"Good morning," she said to him, not even trying to conceal her grin.

He replied with a quick kiss overtop the breakfast tray in his hands. Meghan plucked the tray from him and took it over to her little sitting area. She set it down on the table and turned back around, only to squeak in delighted surprise when Legolas grabbed her and kissed her again, deeper this time.

"Good morning," he said, resting his forehead against hers.

She lazily draped her arms around his neck, that silly smile still on her face. "Good morning."

"You already said that." He planted a peck between her eyebrows, grinning back at her.

"That's because it is good." She wasn't quite tall enough to reach his face without going onto her tiptoes, so she stretched up to press her lips to the corner of his chin. Of course that made him lean down to kiss her again, and there wasn't much talking for a moment – until Meghan's stomach growled.

"Shall we?" Legolas quirked a brow at her.

"We shall," Meghan agreed, untangling herself from him and promptly sitting down to uncover the breakfast that he had brought. "I take it the Dwarves found their way here?"

"Yes," Legolas replied as he sat down across from her. "They arrived very early this morning, and wished to refresh themselves before the banquet later. Gimli sends his compliments."

"I'm glad he came." She stared absently at the spread of food in front of her, mind clearly a thousand other places. "I'm too excited to eat, but I'm so hungry."

"Do as you will, but I intend to eat," Legolas said, already halfway through a roll.

Meghan popped a grape into her mouth and kicked his foot under the table with a smile. "Hey. I'm glad you're here."

"As am I," he replied, kicking her back.

She meant there in the room right then, but also just in the city at all. Between regular guard patrols and a few long trips to Ithilien, he had been gone as much as he was home during the past year. Meghan had joined him once to visit Ithilien (with Gwaethir in tow as chaperone, of course), but mostly she stayed in Nídhrond. And even though she was busy enough now that the time apart passed quickly, she still hadn't liked it.

"I hope you know," Meghan said as she tore a roll apart and contemplated if she wanted apple butter on it, "that I will probably mess up the words for the ceremony. I haven't practiced at all." (That was a lie. She'd spent hours making sure she had the translation right – Sindarin was still somewhat new to her, after all.)

"In that case, the wedding must be cancelled," Legolas said seriously – or at least he intended to be serious, except that his poker face was the worst on the planet. "Shall you tell my father, or shall I?"

Meghan decided to humour his joke if only because his smile was extra cute when he tried to hide it. "Well, if it must be done, I guess I'll tell your father and you can tell all the guests. Do you have any spare armor I could borrow? I'm pretty sure Thranduil is going to eviscerate me when–"

She had started to stand up as she spoke, affecting a melodramatic expression of being resigned to her fate, which was apparently too much for Legolas to stay in character. He burst out laughing and pulled her down into his lap to press three quick kisses in a line down her cheek. It tickled, and she involuntarily scrunched up her shoulders as she giggled.

"You both are disgusting," Alassëa announced cheerfully, coming in the door with her arms full of flowers.

"Surely it's not time to start getting ready, is it?" Meghan asked. The intrusion was hardly out of character for her soon-to-be sister, since Alassëa tended to treat any unlocked door as an invitation.

"Not just yet. I've stolen some extra flowers from the banquet hall and thought to brighten your chambers with them. Aren't they lovely?"

"So long as they are not infested with bees or some other mischief," Legolas said, only half of his suspicion feigned.

"I would never." Alassëa smiled at the bouquet she had already managed to arrange on their table, tweaking some of the details. "You may be lucky today, brother. Gwaethir is so busy playing host to our many guests that he has no time for capers."

"I thought we called a truce for the wedding," Meghan protested, starting up from Legolas' chest to give him a questioning look. She had largely stayed out of the prank war that the three siblings seemed to be eternally engaged in (and Legolas seemed to be eternally losing), which she had leveraged into a temporary peace treaty at least during her nuptials.

"As I said," Alassëa said primly, as if she hadn't flour-bombed Gwaethir's room by means of elaborate trip-wires a few weeks ago, "I would never jeopardize the dignity and gravitas of such an occasion."

Meghan settled back against Legolas and fixed her with a stern face. "Just remember that I have Éowyn and Gimli on my security team."

"Pah!" Alassëa scoffed. "The shieldmaiden that slew the Witch King has earned my respect, but your Dwarvish guardian scares me not at all. Still, you have little need of such protection, since I have no intentions of disrupting the peace."

"Thank you," Meghan said, mollified by her reassuring smile. She could feel Legolas' hum of skepticism resonate in his chest under her shoulder, so she elbowed him very subtly in the ribs. Of course, since he was ticklish there, it only made him giggle – and, of course, that made her want to tickle him even more.

"You both are absolutely giddy this morning," Alassëa said with an arched brow and a grin as he shuddered away from Meghan's questing fingers, although he didn't really have anywhere to go.

"That's, because," – Meghan punctuated every word with a kiss onto Legolas' cheek, causing him to laugh again – "we're, getting, married, today!"

Alassëa threw a roll at their heads to break them apart with stunning accuracy. "You act as if your betrothal year was a century! Why, it went by in a flash!"

"Speak for yourself," Legolas muttered, and his face was so incredulous that Meghan couldn't help but laugh at him even if she completely agreed.

"By the Valar, I could hear the three of you giggling from the corridor," Gwaethir said, poking his head in the door. "Did you even notice me knocking?"

"I'm afraid not," Meghan shook her head as she wiped her eyes. "But come in anyway, there's plenty of breakfast still to share."

Gwaethir cast a calculating look down the hall in both directions before sliding into the room. "I was sent to collect the bridegroom, but I think I shall tarry awhile if there is food to be had."

"You can't take him away just yet anyway," Meghan replied with a sunny smile, slipping her arms around Legolas' neck.

"I shall not attempt it then," Gwaethir said, settling next to Alassëa on the couch and reaching for something to eat. "To be perfectly honest, it is well worth hiding for a little longer if only to imagine Ada's discomfort in hosting the embassy from Erebor unaided. I know you both performed worthy acts while on your quest, but surely the greatest was befriending a Dwarf and inviting his retinue here for your wedding!"

"I thought Gimli was resting after their journey," Legolas frowned. "I should not leave him to fend for himself against Adar–"

"Far be it from me to presume that I know your friend better than you," Gwaethir interrupted, raising a placating hand with a half-grin on his face, "but it seemed to me that Gimli was having a marvelous time insinuating that reparations should be made for past grievances, etcetera."

"Endearing himself to Ada, no doubt," Alassea said.

"All the same," Legolas said, reluctantly beginning to disengage from Meghan, "I would be a poor friend and perhaps a poor son if I did not at least offer mediation."

She couldn't argue with that, so she scooted off his lap and held out a hand to him. "I'll go with you."

"No, stay," he replied even as he took her hand and stood. "You have plans with Alassëa and Lady Éowyn later this morning. Averting a diplomatic crisis, no matter how small, should not be on your itinerary for your wedding day."

"Then I'll see you off," Meghan amended. She knew Legolas felt a little guilty for the cold way Thranduil treated her and generally did his best to shield her from any family drama. She didn't blame either one of them, though – a son can't change his father, and she had decided at some point to just see Thranduil as old and grumpy. She secretly thought that maybe, just maybe, she was winning him over, too, but it made Legolas feel better to believe he was doing something.

Alassëa quirked a brow at Gwaethir as the other two headed for the door. "Were you not sent to fetch Legolas and return with him?"

"Let me at least finish my breakfast before sending me back into the dragon's keep," Gwaethir said, hunching over his plate dramatically.

"Take your time, because I'm going to kiss your brother very thoroughly out in this hallway," Meghan smiled over her shoulder, and she just caught a glimpse of Alassëa and Gwaethir's faces wrinkling in disgust before Legolas tugged her out the door and the latch slid home behind them.

She slipped her arms around his midsection in a transparent bid to keep him with her for a little longer before his absurd sense of duty took over. "I feel like I barely got to see you this morning."

"I know," he replied, his forearms a warm and welcome weight against the small of her back. "But we have only to be patient a little while longer, since we will be seeing much more of each other this evening."

"I suppose we will." She grinned up at him. "Unless I mess up all the ceremony words and commit a terrible social misdemeanor and the wedding is called off."

"I will marry you even if you do," he said, his eyes warm and full of promise. He leaned down and kissed her slowly – and that was full of promise, too.

They very well could have continued just as they'd started, but they were interrupted by a passing maid, who startled awkwardly at the sight of them with a confused exclamation before promptly reversing course. Meghan didn't care, but it was enough for the faintest of blushes to tinge Legolas' ears.

"I should go," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "If I do not leave now, I never will."

"Good luck with Gimli and your dad," she replied as she ran a thumb over the edge of his collar. "I'll see you at the altar."

"Altar?" Legolas asked with that tiny, confused crinkle between his eyebrows that made her heart soar up with love for him.

"It means we're getting married today," she whispered, pulling him down to give him another lingering kiss.

"Then I will see you at the altar," he said with one last peck to her cheek before heading off down the hall. Meghan watched him go, and thought she might burst with happiness.

"You look quite blissful," came a laughing voice behind her. She startled around to see Éowyn approaching from the opposite end of the hallway with a knowing grin.

"Good morning my friend," Meghan replied as she looped her arm through Éowyn's, too cheerful to even bother defending herself against the teasing. "I'm so glad you came. Please come inside, it's just Alassëa and Gwaethir here with me now that Legolas has left. Have you eaten?"

"I have," Éowyn nodded, following Meghan inside.

"Ah, if the Nazgul Slayer is here then the hall must be safe for me to pass," Gwaethir said, standing up so that he could bow to Éowyn. Meghan appreciated that he switched easily to the Common Tongue, since Éowyn didn't speak Sindarin. "I will go to rejoin my brother. Thank you for breakfast, sister-soon."

"Please go rescue him so that he can relax today," Meghan said, wondering just how much Legolas could actually mediate a skirmish between his father and Gimli.

"I will do my best," Gwaethir sighed as he headed into the hallway.

"Good," Alassëa said once the door shut behind him. "He has left us alone at last and now Meghan can get dressed!"

"Already?" Meghan said, surprised.

"Yes," she nodded. "I gave Dúlinneth my word that we would not be late and I intend to keep it, so enough dawdling. Go change into your shift and then Lady Éowyn and I will help you into the gown. Away with you!" She shooed Meghan into the bedroom with a stern look that somewhat disturbingly echoed her father's features.

Meghan's closet was nearly empty since most of her things had been packed or moved to her new chambers, but it still held a few items, including the impossibly beautiful dress she would wear today. She skimmed past it as she reached for the underdress first, and quickly changed.

She hadn't thought that Elves were capable of lingerie, and this was pretty tame by some standards. It was made of an almost sheer, filmy material that fell just past her mid-thigh, but the neckline dipped so low that she consciously had to resist tugging it up. The seamstress who made it had explained, with a knowing smile, that untying the soft cords at her shoulders would send the dress to the floor.

Meghan poked her head out the door with a dubious frown. "I feel very naked in this."

"I believe that is the point," Éowyn laughed.

"Hmm," Meghan said as she looked down at her own cleavage.

"If you are shy, we shall avert our eyes until you are fully dressed," Alassëa said pragmatically. "But I think you will need help to put on your gown."

"True," Meghan conceded, widening the door to admit them.

The wedding dress was white at her request, with tiny green and gold gems stitched in the pattern of leaves along the hems of the skirt and the flowing sleeves. It was heavier than most of the dresses Meghan wore, so it took a little finagling to get into it, but between the three of them they managed.

"We were pleased to receive some of your people in Ithilien before we left," Éowyn said as Alassëa began the long process of lacing up the back of the dress. "How long will you and Legolas remain in Eryn Lasgalen after the wedding?"

"Just a month," Meghan replied. "Now that construction has begun on the settlement, Legolas is eager to get back there himself."

Alassëa tugged extra hard on one of the laces. "I will miss you terribly."

"Your loss is my gain, it would seem," Éowyn said. "Faramir and I look forward to having neighbors."

"Will your settlements be very close to each other?"

"Not really," Meghan said. "They're a little more than half a day's ride apart. It'll be much closer than Minas Tirith though, and obviously here."

"Well, if you must go away, then I am glad you will have friends so close," Alassëa said as she threaded through the next crossing of laces at her back.

The three women spent the next few hours talking and laughing and getting ready. At some point Dúlinneth came to tame Meghan's wild tumble of hair into soft curls and braid a finely wrought circlet around her crown. It was all very relaxed and happy, and Meghan only wished that she could have spent more of the day itself with Legolas.

But it seemed like that had been deliberate, because once she was fully transformed into as close to an Elvish bride as she would ever be, Alassëa ushered her to just outside the entrance to the wedding hall, where Legolas was waiting.

"Dúlinneth says that everything is in readiness," Alassëa said, "but there is time for the two of you to have a few moments alone before all the excitement begins. I will keep Gwaethir busy so he does not pester you!"

"Thank you, sister," Legolas said as he smiled and gave her a hand-over-heart salute.

She returned it with a winning smile, already beginning to leave. "I will see you both in a few moments."

"Hello," Meghan said to him once they were alone.

"You look beautiful," Legolas said, holding her by the fingertips at arms length so that he could get the full effect of her dress.

"So do you," Meghan grinned in reply. Luckily for her, he had somehow managed to forego the circlet that had made her laugh so much at Aragorn's coronation and wore his hair in his usual braids, although he still had to wear a long silvery robe over a high-collared tunic and leggings instead of his hunting greens.

"Will you be alright?" he asked. She had only attended a few formal events and had never felt comfortable with the level of attention her status brought.

"Hmm," she replied noncommittally, and chose instead to drape her arms around his neck with a smile.

"I will not leave your side for the whole evening," he said, turning his head to press a kiss against the inside of her elbow.

"Good," she said. "You can be my arm-candy all night."

"Sometimes your strange phrases make sense in their own way," Legolas replied as his brow crinkled in confusion, "but I cannot puzzle out 'arm-candy' at all."

Meghan had to laugh at him. "It means you are very beautiful, and I like having you close to me."

"It is a strange saying all the same," he murmured, almost against her lips, his breath warm against her skin.

"Let's get this party over with so we can get married," she whispered before closing what little distance was left between them with a kiss.

"I agree," he said as he took her hand.

Nídhrond had places both within the underground city and without for large events such as this; the outdoor area was a huge clearing that the wood elves had carefully shaped over the centuries so that there was a latticed roof of tree branches through which the sun filtered like stained glass.

As Meghan and Legolas entered the wide open space, her breath caught at how beautiful it was, all greens and golds and soft summer colours. It was already filled with elves, a marvelous cacophony of their musical voices filling the air as they talked and milled about.

Someone noticed them entering and shouted their congratulations, which of course brought the attention of everyone else. But Alassëa caught sight of them and waved them over to join the rest of the royal family.

The first hour passed in a blur. All the visiting nobles had to be received and thanked, and Meghan only knew half of them. She met the King of Dale without remembering his name immediately after he said it, and she only recognized Elladan and Elrohir because they were twins.

Gimli greeted her with loud congratulations and then introduced her to his distant cousin, who was the younger brother to the King of Erebor. She forgot his name too and only really registered that he was taller and less bearded than most Dwarves. The introductions were too fast to get much of an impression beyond that.

And of course Éowyn and Faramir were there with reassuring smiles, and they were like an oasis in the chaos of the crowd. Legolas had become fast friends with Faramir during his trips to Ithilien, and Meghan could tell how pleased he was that they had come as Gondor's emissaries since Aragorn and Arwen couldn't due to their pregnancy.

"It is time, my dears," Alassëa said, appearing at Legolas' elbow with an impish grin. "Ada bid me tell you to join him so that the ceremony can begin."

"Finally," Meghan muttered as she tucked herself strategically beside Legolas so that he had to do most of the pushing past people – who wanted to congratulate them every second step – to get across the crowd to where Thranduil was waiting for them.

There had been some negotiation about the actual wedding service itself – Elvish customs dictated that the couple returned their silver betrothal rings and exchanged golden bands instead, and then the mother of the bride and the father of the groom spoke words of blessing over the union. Of course Meghan had no parents, and she couldn't imagine getting married without saying vows of her own.

At first, Thranduil had resisted changes simply because it would appear odd to break tradition, but Legolas hadn't budged an inch as soon as Meghan said she didn't want a stand-in for her mother. So they had come to an agreement; it was unorthodox but not unprecedented for a couple to exchange words as well as rings, and it was decided to simply have Thranduil speak a very brief blessing over them to begin the ceremony.

Still, there was no aisle and no wedding party to process down one anyway, just a bower twined with spring flowers for them to stand under so that everyone could see them. Being in front of so many people made Meghan's pulse rise and she gripped Legolas' hand like a lifeline.

She was so nervous and excited that she almost completely missed everything that Thranduil said. As it was, she mostly just remembered him invoking the Valar to favour their marriage and bring them unity, peace, and joy with each other. And then he finished and turned to them, and it was their turn.

Even though Legolas had been completely on her side about speaking their own vows to each other, he hadn't actually known what she meant and had asked for clarification later in private. Meghan had tried to explain in a way that made sense for their context, since there wouldn't be a minister to prompt them with prepared words. And she knew that Legolas was very private about showing affection, so saying sappy vows would probably embarrass him. Most of the promises made in a traditional ceremony would be redundant to speak aloud for Elves anyway, since they were implied simply by the marriage itself.

But he wanted to come up with his own all the same, and had been very tight-lipped when she'd asked about it, even under threat of tickling – which was actually just fine with her, since it became something else to look forward to.

And now he faced her, her hands in his, and he looked a little shy and very, very happy. "My Meghan," he began, not quite able to suppress a grin as he said her name. "I vow to love you always. I will be your companion and your ally in all that you do. In times of trouble, I will be a shield unto you as you have been to me. I will honour you above all others and I will share in both your joys and your sorrows. It is the greatest honour of my life to wed you this day."

Meghan could have kissed him right then, but she had her own vows to get through first. "Legolas," she said, heart in her throat, in her hands, in her smile. "I take you as my husband and gladly become your wife today. You are my home and I will always work hard to be yours. Wherever we are and whatever we do, I will love you – even if it's difficult, especially when it's difficult. I will always have your back, and I will trust you to have mine. I can't wait to marry you today!"

His deep blue eyes flickered to her lips as he smiled, just about to lean down.

"Also," she stopped him with a grin, "I vow that I am never going to give you up. I'm never going to let you down. I'm never going to run around and desert you."

She could tell by the tiniest narrowing of his eyes that he knew she was trying not to laugh even though he had no idea why. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alassëa put a hand over her heart, apparently moved by all the incredibly poignant promises being made. Meghan took a moment to look down as if overcome with emotion, but Legolas wasn't fooled. He saw her swallow a grin and squeezed her hands subtly.

"I'm never going to make you cry," she continued in a rush, just to get through it without actually laughing out loud. "I'm never going to say goodbye, and I will never tell a lie and hurt you."

There was no one to pronounce them man and wife and to tell Legolas to kiss the bride, but there hadn't been any discussion of how to end the ceremony, either. Legolas and Meghan seemed to realize this at the same moment, and he raised a brow as if to ask if she was finished with her joke.

She answered by going up on tiptoes to kiss him, framing his face with her hands so that she could feel the way his cheeks lit up with a smile against her lips. The audience erupted with cheers and whistles at the sight of their reserved and proper prince wrapping his arms around his new wife to draw her closer.

Meghan finally laughed then, hiding her face against him for a moment to giggle into his chest in private. The cheering continued as she looked back up at him, and he was laughing too. He tilted his head down to kiss her again, quicker this time.

Whether it was by some signal or just general consensus, the crowd disbursed from being an audience into a party. Meghan and Legolas were flooded with well-wishes, from Dúlinneth and Hérion's quiet grins to Alassëa's ecstatic embrace to Faramir's hearty clap on Legolas' back. Thranduil didn't say much to them, but when Meghan caught his eye he offered her the slightest of smiles and a nod.

There was an enormous banquet to be had, the biggest Meghan had ever seen, with every dish the kitchens had to offer. She had actually helped prepare some of them, since she worked in the kitchens a few days a week.

And then when the sun went down and the space was illuminated by hundreds of silver and golden lanterns, the dancing started. Some of them were partnered and some were in groups, and Meghan danced them all. After the first dance with Legolas, she was asked by Gwaethir, and then someone else, and then she passed Legolas along a line during one, and then she partnered with someone else – and it wasn't until much later that evening, when at last the lively tunes gave way to a softer, slower melody, that they found each other again.

"May I?" Legolas asked, holding out a hand.

Meghan took one more sip of water and set down her cup. "I finally get a slow prom dance with you."

"Prom?" He drew her into his arms and into the gentle cadence of the music.

"A strange tradition from my world," she explained, just glad to be close to him again after a couple hours with others. "This is much more fun."

"And as enjoyable as this is," he said with a shy smile, "have you given any thought to leaving?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Meghan replied, eyeing around the huge room for the best exit strategy. "So do we just go, or…?"

"If you wish to withdraw from this gathering unscathed, it is best for us to depart separately," he said in a low voice.

"What do you mean?"

"If we are seen leaving together, there will surely be a – commotion."

Meghan could easily imagine the level of good-natured whistling, cheering, and general mayhem that would accompany their departure if they did draw attention to it, and blanched. "I thought Elves were a dignified people, above such juvenile antics."

"Not these Elves," Legolas grinned. "At the last wedding here, the couple was applauded nearly to their chamber door."

"No thanks," she grimaced.

"I thought perhaps after we finish this dance, you would discretely leave while I remain a few moments longer to allay suspicion."

"Good plan." She ran a thumb along the line of his jaw. "Just don't stay here too long."

"I do not intend to," he said, capturing her hand so that he could kiss the inside of her wrist.

The song was winding down and another, livelier tune was beginning, so Meghan pecked him quickly on the lips. "Right, I'm off. If anyone asks, I'm going to pee."

"I will see you shortly," he said as she turned away, holding onto her hand for the longest time possible before she slipped away.

The walk back to the interior of Nídhrond was quick and dappled by the starlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves above. Meghan passed only a few servers as she hurried through the halls, but they all smiled and looked away when she passed.

Their new suite was still in the royal wing, but a completely different part than where she had lived the past year. Because they would only be there a month before moving to Ithilien, they had been given the little-used guest quarters on a level below the main area. Meghan half-expected the rooms to be booby-trapped as some capricious prank by Legolas' siblings, but there was nothing out of the ordinary when she let herself in.

The space reminded her more of a studio apartment than anything else, since it was one big room with moveable screens to divide it. There was a clearly defined sitting room immediately upon entering, which flowed into a dining area. Bookshelves and a desk tucked into one corner looked like a study, and there was a door which led to a small lavatory. And of course the centerpiece at the far end of the room was the huge bed, draped with gossamer canopy and looking very inviting.

Meghan took one moment to examine her reflection in the mirror over the dresser, smiling as she made a secret pact with herself to remember this always. Then she reached up to unpin the circlet from her hair and shook out the curls that had been swept around it.

I hope Legolas doesn't get stuck at the party, she thought as she sat on the edge of the bed, not really sure what to do now. She could easily imagine some well-meaning guest trapping him in polite conversation – or worse. Why exactly the wood elves seemed to enjoy what she could only describe as hazing was completely beyond her.

But she didn't have anything to worry about, because a moment later Legolas slipped in the door. Either he hadn't waited long before following her, or he had run most of the way.

"Hello, husband," Meghan said, grinning and blushing a little and suddenly not quite sure what to do with her hands.

"Not husband yet," he replied as he came over and leaned down to give her a lingering kiss.

"Let's change that." She stood and turned around in one movement so that her back was to him, sweeping her hair over one shoulder. "I can't reach the laces myself."

He smoothed a stray curl out of the way, his fingertips featherlight across the top of her spine. And then his lips followed where his fingers had been as he slowly loosened the first knot at the back of her dress.

At first Meghan didn't notice anything, because she was too distracted by his lips on the sensitive hollow where her jaw met her neck. But she began to realize that he was spending less effort in kissing and increasingly more effort in unlacing – and he wasn't making much progress in either department. Finally he moved a pace back and devoted his entire attention to the ties of her dress.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"How did you lace up this dress?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

"I didn't." Meghan tried to twist her head around to see, but of course it was futile. "Alassëa helped me into it, why?"

At the sound of his sister's name, Legolas slumped so much that he rested his forehead on Meghan's shoulder. "She double-knotted it at each crossing. There must be three dozen knots at least."

"Ah," Meghan said, frozen at the idea of being prisoner to her own dress. They paused like this for a moment, leaning against each other in mutual dejection. "She did promise not to prank us during just the ceremony."

"I have an idea," Legolas said, stepping back to slip a long dagger out of his boot.

"Now hang on a second," Meghan replied, reaching behind her back to try her hand at the laces herself – but they were tied fast, and it would require the patience of a saint to unravel the intricate knots.

"I will not hurt you," Legolas said with a wounded look.

Now that she thought about it, he had a slightly desperate air about him. We've waited so long for this and now I can't get naked, she thought mournfully.

"I know you won't," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "But this is my wedding dress. If you cut me out of it, it'll be ruined forever and Alassëa will know she won. Just… I think I can get it over my head."

"Would it not be possible for a seamstress to mend it?" Legolas was obviously trying to sound reasonable, and failing spectacularly.

"Just let me try to shimmy out of it." Meghan took a deep breath to give herself as much room as possible to wiggle one arm out of its sleeve and into the bodice. "Come here, you might have to help."

Legolas tucked the knife back into his boot and came over, looking lost. She managed to wedge her other arm into the same position as the first before she realized that she had made a fatal error.

"I seem to be stuck – no no wait!" She backed away again as Legolas reached for his dagger. She took a moment to muster all of her feminine allure, doing her best to look seductive instead of absolutely ridiculous. "You can just… pull it off over my head."

They stared at each other for a moment.

Legolas hesitantly gathered some of the loose fabric at her shoulders and gave an experimental tug. "This is not how I imagined undressing you on our wedding night," he said with a rueful smile.

The dress was starting to slide up her body, although somehow the dark underdress stayed put – a fact for which Meghan was unutterably grateful, because at least she could remove something without looking like a complete idiot. The room went dark as Legolas carefully lifted the dress over her head. It took a little wriggling when the fitted waist almost got stuck on her shoulders, until a moment later she reappeared, flushed with embarrassment and her hair all askew.

Earlier she had been a little unsure about the underdress, but now Legolas was drinking in the sight of her as if he had never seen her before. The intensity in his eyes did unspeakable things to the pit of Meghan's stomach. She stood, frozen, the blush in her cheeks deepening as he studied her. Then he lunged forward to capture her lips in the most scorching kiss she had ever experienced, his lean body a white hot brand against her.

Suddenly she realized that he was wearing too many clothes, and she fumbled at the clasps of his formal robe. It took a few moments, because he was no help at all with the way his hands were teasing her body, but finally she undid the fastenings and pushed the robe off his shoulders. That left him in a silver tunic and dark leggings, which was a little better – but still not good enough.

Dimly she started to become aware of something that seemed a little out of place. Was that music? How could there be music? She broke away from Legolas to listen better and he made a noise of protest, until he heard it too. Sure enough, the sounds of several harps and at least two violins grew louder by the minute outside the door.

"What is that?" she whispered just as a familiar voice began to sing.

"Nin anneva darion hen îr anon…"

"Is that Gwaethir?" she said, fighting the sudden urge to laugh purely at the absurdity of the situation.

It seemed like Legolas was counting backwards in Quenya. "I will kill him."

"Ídh cenai mathale suimathan…"

"If we're very quiet, maybe he'll think he was mistaken and that we aren't here," Meghan suggested.

"He knows we are," Legolas groaned. "He saw me leave. I should never have trusted him."

"Yes, you definitely should have knocked him out and tied him to a tree to preserve our secret." The situation was so absurd that she was struggling not to laugh, and Legolas' complete despair wasn't helping her keep a straight face.

"Tolo, tolo, tolo ar nin…"

"What's he singing, anyway?"

"It is a rough translation of a bawdy song from Laketown," he ground out as he strode to the door. "Excuse me a moment."

Meghan moved across the room a little so that her revealing dress wouldn't be visible from the doorway. It meant she couldn't see what was happening out in the hallway, but the music instantly became louder once Legolas opened the door.

"Nai gwaem caro puhtalë, gwennig – Ah, brother!" Gwaethir sounded immensely cheerful. "What, still dressed?"

The instruments all abruptly ceased as she heard the distinct sound of a punch connecting with a jaw.

A moment later, Legolas reappeared inside the door and shut it very deliberately behind him.

Meghan had clamped both hands over her mouth, partly in shock and partly to contain her laughter. She met his eyes across the room and fought down a giggle, that ended up escaping as a strangled snort anyway. At first Legolas looked tense, but her bright eyes made him crack a little.

"This is not funny," he said, trying not to smile.

"You sure showed him," Meghan said. She wasn't particularly worried about Gwaethir; the two brothers had done worse to each other both in sparring sessions and friendly scuffles. The only reason there had been just a single blow landed was probably a testament to Legolas' haste to return.

"It was effective," he said. "The music stopped, did it not?"

"Yes, it did," she agreed. She closed the distance between them to drape her arms around his neck, sliding the door's lock home over his shoulder as she did. "Now, where were we?"

"I love you, my Meghan," he whispered against her lips as she started to unfasten the closures down the front of his tunic, his eyes dark and not quite believing that this was happening.

"I love you too," she replied, pushing it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of the sleeves and cupped her face with his hands, and she smiled into his kisses, because she was finally, finally going to get him naked.

Note: For those who are musically interested, this chapter's soundtrack is the Rac Remix of On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons, which is almost inextricably linked to this story ever since Amelia introduced it to me when i visited New Zealand a couple years ago.

Sidenote: I borrowed bits and bobs from the Native American Rite of Seven Steps and also Morgan Llywelyn's Celtic Wedding Vow, both of which are beautiful. Also, if anyone wants to know the translation of the song Gwaethir was singing let me know in a review ho ho ho

You may have noticed that this was posted on the ten year anniversary since I published chapter one of the original Awkward Adventures. No matter how long you have been with this story, thank you for reading, friends. :)

07.14.17