The Joy of Marriage

By kasura

Nerdanel twirled down the grand stairway lightly. Her fiery red hair danced behind her back. She hummed a tune; her eyes twinkled like her husband's diamonds. She ventured into the dining room to locate her husband, and found him sitting at the head of the mahogany table, starring down at its polished obsidian top blankly. She sashayed towards him coyly.

*****

Feanaro was reading the paper spreading on the table before him, which was filled bright colorful drawings of various things and objects with numbers. He scowled. Nerdanel had purposely left this last night to warn him. He had arisen out of their bed this morning feeling rather gaily, and spent a good number of hours in his forge pounding at an obstinate piece of bronze. With his body comfortably warmed up from the hammering exercise, he returned to the dining room for brunch and found this.

This is the most detested husbandly duty he must performs, worst than washing baby Makalaure's dirty diapers. He dreaded it and resisted it with a passion. Nerdanel's approaching footsteps made his heart pounded faster, his entire body sprouting goose bumps when Nerdanel's soft hand brushed his shoulder. One glance at her sapphire deep eyes, Feanaro melted, but he managed to launch his customary protest.

"Dear, I do not think…." Her dainty hand silenced his words easily when she started caressing his face. Normally Feanaro's famous temper would roast the elf that dare to interrupt him, but Nerdanel has a unique way to containing the foul beast, and vanquishing it by touching the right spot. She was sworn by Feanaro never divulge this secret to another.

She fluttered her dark brown eyelashes at him, her other hand moved to massage his chest, began to persuade him, " Husband, I have been looking forward to this. You would not deny me this wish? " She breathed into his neck. Feanaro felt his resolve quickly dissolving, yet he made a last desperate stand. "What of the children?"

Nerdanel laughed lightheartedly, expecting this counterattack from her husband. "I already made the necessary arrangements." She moved to settle herself on Feanaro's lap; her body nestled close to his chest, enveloping him with her scent of soft lavender. Her wonderful scent had rendered him speechless, so he nodded in acquiescence. The battle has ended, and Nerdanel emerged victorious.

She gave her husband a teasing shove. Grudgingly, Feanaro left his chair, but not before squeezing her waist playfully, which made Nerdanel giggling like a maiden. He went to the stable to bring the horses and tied them to the chariot. When he finished setting up the chariot, he came back to the main hall, and saw an elf maiden talking with Nerdanel.

Nerdanel introduced the maiden, Ellwen, as the babysitter. She called for Maitimo and brought Ellwen to the nursery to see the baby. Maitimo was instructed by Feanaro to behave, and not to pull Ellwen's hair nor put the toad in her dress. Maitimo nodded meekly, but there's a mischievous gleam in his large blue eyes that Feanaro did not like. Before he can further warn Ellwen of his eldest son's wild streak, an impatient Nerdanel dragged him outside the mansion. She was exuding excitement.

They arrived at a white building that's cheerfully decorated in pink and gold strips. Vast green lawns with manicured trees welcoming its visitors. This immaculate, perfect scenery did not uplift Feanaro's gloomy countenance, except depressing his mood further. He does not understand why the females, both maidens and matrons, are constantly imbued with this affliction, and that no medicine nor wisdom of the Valar could relieve them. He drove the chariot past the gilded main gate, made a roundabout turn to the west of the building, to a huge stone paved square filled with chariots parked neatly on their allocated blocks. Before entering the square, there was a sign outside that stated "Valet Parking for Tirion Mall customers".

Naturally Feanaro valet parked his chariot. If he has to suffer the humiliation of tagging after his wife in the mall, he might as well enter the inferno in style.

A cheerful brown haired elf in tailored red uniform greeted them. He pulled his parking book out and thumbed through the lots in the book. Frowning, he regretfully informed Feanaro that valet parking might be full.

Feanaro quickly declared "Let us speed home, Nerdanel, the valet said the chariot parking lot is full." He glared at the valet to emphasize his point.

The brave valet quailed under Feanaro's intense gaze, reply timidly, "My…my lord, I uhm, can manage to secure the last …last…spot for you at the corner." Profit margin, profit margin, the manager had drilled it to the valet's brain, became the supporting pillar for him to resist surrendering to the Spirit of Fire's unspoken demand. Never let a potential customer walks away.

Nerdanel squeezed her husband's arm playfully. "Dear, stop frightening the poor elf, he's only a youngling, and performing his duty."

Feanaro sighed, handing the rein to the valet's trembling hands while his piercing eyes looked about to flay the elf's skin. The valet almost fainted when he gave Feanaro's parking number. Feanaor scoffed at the piece of paper, as if the entire Tirion couldn't recognize his famous emerald and sapphire encrusted golden peacock chariot.

He escorted Nerdanel to the entrance, was greeted by a giant red banner that announced "Blowout SALE of the Season". The brightness of the banner had hurt his eyes. He glanced at the mall's interior and saw squealing elflings running. Bored elf men trailing behind their energized spouses. Mother chastising their naughty children for misbehaviors. Giggling maidens exclaiming over trinkets and bolts of fabrics. Desperate bachelors wandering around the shops hoping they could attract some maidens' eyes.

Beside the crowd, Feanaro found the mall's decoration offensive. This place was draped in slogans that encourage this deviant behavior: Presents for Begetting Day, Gifts for everlasting friendships, Gifts for Wedding Anniversary. He ought to have a serious talk with the mall manager.

Nerdanel announced her first target is women's gown shop. She forcibly pulled Feanaro to the place. Eight or nine elf women were busily sorting through the sales racks. Their sad looking male counterparts were standing at the side watching babies or shopping bags.

"Look at all the gorgeous gowns on sale! I have to browse them all, and try some of them." She went to the first rack, scrutinizing the gowns with the concentration she afford her creations in her forge. Feanaro complained. "Nerdanel, I don't understand why you need to shop. You can make all the things here at home, and splendid are your weavings and sewing." Nerdanel replied tartly " Well, Feanaro, there is a difference between making your own things and spending money. Sometimes I enjoy the fruits of others' hard labor. I think of it as a reward for me."

Feanaro threw his hands up in defeat. Females.

The store manager glided to Nerdanel and greeted her with a dazzling smile. She pulled a silver white gown with butterfly sleeves and two rows of iridescent pearls at the hem to recommend it to Nerdanel. Nerdanel turned to Feanaro and inquired his opinion of the dress. Feanaro derided, "The hemline is shoddily sewed together, the fabric is light but not soft enough, I wager the silk treads would unravel after a few washes." The store manager protested, clarifying the store carries quality dresses manufactured by the finest craftsmen. Even the High Queen herself was impressed with their stock, and became a store regular. The mention of Indis' name goaded Feanaro into a heated debate with the manager, but was stopped in short by a pinch from Nerdanel on his arm. She carried on unfazed, successfully purchased a gown despite several snickering comments regarding the workmanship from her husband at her previous choices.

Exiting the shop with embarrassment, Nerdanel instructed Feanaro to keep his opinions to himself. Feanaro took the shopping bag quietly, dourly tagging after his wife. They visited other shops next to the gown shop with less drama until one elfling accidentally ran into Feanaro, chased by his older brother in a game. The mother apologized profusely, dragged her squealing child away from the Spirit of Fire. Feanaro's face was in ripe with indignation. He almost bellowed out to the mother on the virtue of responsibility when Nerdanel sent the women and her naughty child off with a smile, commenting that no damage had been done.

She sent a withering glance to her husband, which miraculously controlled his temper. He trod behind her to the jewelry shop. Once in they were in the shop, Feanaro truly let his caustic talent rip. He saw the piece Nerdanel was fingering and sneered- I make better diamond than that! Not a jewel in the shop escaped his scathing eyes. Nerdanel's face was red from mortification at Feanaro's witty recommendations for each jewels smith's skill improvement. She hurriedly exited the shop hauling a gleeful Feanaro.

Angered by Feanaro's continual rebellious behavior, she deposited him in the mall's waiting lounge, also known as men's haunt, left her bags for him to watch and told him to wait there until she's done. Feanaro grunted in response. Truly he found this temporary imprisonment more pleasant than suppressing his sound opinions to his wife and watching her indulging her deviant activity.

The place was packed with men and shopping bags. Fortunately the couches were comfortably, food and drinks were served on the table along with books and above all, no encouraging shopping slogans to sabotage these men's tired eyes. Feanaro settled on his spot comfortably while casting a hard glance at the surrounding elves to warn them not to encroach too closely to him. The elves huddled in groups, quickly struck a conversation on their wives, children, professions and silly topics like who's the sexiest elf and whose breech got blown away by wind during sailing

Feanaro was reading a book on ant society when he was greeted by a familiar distasteful presence, his half brother. Poor Nolofinwe was heaving under thirty full shopping bags. He dropped them down all at once, and fell down to the couch, panting. Feanaro put a sympathetic face onward, but inside he's enjoying Nolofinwe's distress. The degree of Nolofinwe's suffering has not warranted Feanaro to be generous.

Nolofinwe was relieved at seeing a familiar face, despite it's his rival. He started to complain of Anaire's crazed shopping rampage. They already spent four hours in the mall, and she's still not fatigued. He told Feanaro that Anaire had discovered Nerdanel and pointed to his half-brother where Nerdanel and Anaire were cooing over their spoils. Both men moped. They could not fathom when their wives will be finished now they've became shopping partners.

Facing with a longer sentence, Feanaro ranted on the evil of shopping mall. Nolofinwe agreed wholeheartedly. This is the first time he and his half-brother shared the same opinion and expression. If this sentiment lasts beyond the white building they labeled Udun, the entire conflict of the Noldor is easily resolved.

At the corner of his eyes, Feanaro detected his father sweeping through the entrance with a delighted Indis at his arm. Not even the High King of the Noldor is safe from this affliction.

Finwe soon appeared at the lounge. He was surprised to find two of his sons lounging there but nodded in understanding. Finwe inquired Feanaro first then Nolofinwe. He asked his sons to partake in the refreshment on the table, and recounting the tales of each son's youth. Nolofinwe blushed when Finwe mentioned he had enjoyed dancing in the palace fountain naked when he was five year's old. The servant maids loved to pinch his chubby behind. Feanaro kept a somber face, but he was reeling inside with laughter. Not a moment was Finwe lax in repairing the relationship between his sons. Finwe then lapsed into more warm tales of yonder years.

This amiable familial socialization was grazing on Feanaro's nerves. In the presence of his beloved father, he was forced to be pleasant to Nolofinwe. He lost the count of time, hoping to see a lovely fiery hair in the crowd of women returning to collect their husbands to excuse him from these small talks.

***

Indeed she has returned triumphantly after some time with armful of booty. With the shopping bags in tow, Feanaro was paroled to ready the chariot. He walked out of the building's doors to the parking lot, took a deep breath of the fresh air, and was glad he'd survived this experience. What he didn't understand was that no married males, including his half-brothers, father, nephews, sons, grandnephews, first cousins, twice-removed cousins and men unborn could escape this inevitable terror that comes with marriage.