Rivendell Rednecks
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
830
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
830
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Nocked Arrow Wedding
The Wedding…
Legolas stood slightly to the left of Sheriff Fin. He was dressed in his fanciest jerkin, which didn’t have nearly as many stains and holes in it. He’d even slicked back his hair a bit.
He might have even had a pleasant look on his face, except for the shiner on his right eye and Elrond’s sword poking him in the back. And the Twin’s with their arrows nocked.
Chairs had been set up in a couple rows in front of the make shift wedding altar. Among the elves sat Haldir and his brothers, Galadriel with a sobbing and dramatic Celebrian, a pissed-off Thranduil, and a very disappointed Aragorn and Arathorn.
Legolas sweated a bit, and fingered his collar. It felt very warm, a little too warm for winter. He fidgeted, scratching the back of his leg with his other foot. This was all too overwhelming. He did not want to marry Arwen.
He didn’t want to marry anyone, especially not Arwen… Sure they had had their fun, and she was an excellent lay, but he was young! Too young to be saddled with that ball and chain!
Trying to forget his situation, Legolas let his thoughts wander to a shiny butterfly floating past him. A stupid happy look crossed his face as he watched it flutter through the air.
Elrond poking him with the sword a little harder and whispering, “Ya best not be havin’ secund thoughts, boy…” brought him back to the situation at hand. Arwen had arrived, and was standing at the back of the chairs.
She was barefoot, and her pregnancy was beginning to show. Dressed in an antiqued white dress, she was a vision of loveliness.
-Great, bar’foot and pregnut,- thought Legolas. It was too cliché. The butterfly returned, and his mind was distracted again. It didn’t return till he realized that Arwen was actually sobbing as she walked up the aisle.
All eyes followed the bride to the background of snide whispers regarding the nature and circumstances surrounding the wedding. Most of the talk came from Haldir and his brothers, who were snickering none too softly. Annoyed with their mischief, Galadriel reached up and smacked Haldir in the back of the head causing him bang into Rumil who in turned banged into Orophin. She smirked as the three rubbed their heads glaring at her.
As Arwen passed Aragorn, she passed him a mournful look. It was not Legolas she wanted to marry. It was Aragorn.
She kept her eyes locked with his, as she trudged up the aisle. Of course this was not a simple task, as he sat at the back of the seating, and she thus was not watching where she was going. She tripped.
Quickly she stood back up, and rushed the rest of the way up the aisle.
Breathless she stood beside Legolas, who was once brought to the presence by his soon to be Father-in-Law. With a look of true terror, he clasped hands with Arwen. He shivered as the veil was pushed back to reveal her puffy tear-streaked face.
“Mah Eru,” he shrieked. He turned suddenly to glare at Elrond, as the elf poked him harder this time.
“That’s mah bebby gurl,” Elrond hissed.
Legolas looked back at her, and gulped down his dread, squeezing her hand a little too tight. Forcing himself not to think about it, he faced Sheriff Fin.
The whole area went silent, waiting expectantly for the Sheriff to speak.
“In the name of Ar Beluved Uru, Ah ask fur enny who believe this weddin’ should not take place to speak now or furever hold thar peace.”
Arwen cast a hopeful and sad look over her shoulder at Aragorn, who sat with his arms crossed, an indifferent look on his face.
Sighing heavily, Arathorn shoved his son out of his seat. Aragorn looked up at his dad with a looked of surprise.
“Whut’s that fur, daddy?” Aragorn hollered.
In a voice loud enough to wake the Valar, Arathorn hollered back, “Boy! Git on up thar! That thar is yore cue!”
Not to anyone’s surprise, but Legolas’, who had just realized what was happening as he had been distracted yet again, Aragorn jumped up and shouted across the guests.
“Stop that thar weddin’! That thar is mah elleth!”
“Yeehaw!” Shrilled Arwen, shoving her bouquet at Legolas, and kicking her legs up in the air, ran to Aragorn jumping into his arms.
Legolas stared at the couple kissing passionately and then back at the bouquet in his hand. Kicking up his legs and yelling, “Yeehaw,” he ran and jumped into Rumil’s arms and proceeded to suck face.
Legolas stood slightly to the left of Sheriff Fin. He was dressed in his fanciest jerkin, which didn’t have nearly as many stains and holes in it. He’d even slicked back his hair a bit.
He might have even had a pleasant look on his face, except for the shiner on his right eye and Elrond’s sword poking him in the back. And the Twin’s with their arrows nocked.
Chairs had been set up in a couple rows in front of the make shift wedding altar. Among the elves sat Haldir and his brothers, Galadriel with a sobbing and dramatic Celebrian, a pissed-off Thranduil, and a very disappointed Aragorn and Arathorn.
Legolas sweated a bit, and fingered his collar. It felt very warm, a little too warm for winter. He fidgeted, scratching the back of his leg with his other foot. This was all too overwhelming. He did not want to marry Arwen.
He didn’t want to marry anyone, especially not Arwen… Sure they had had their fun, and she was an excellent lay, but he was young! Too young to be saddled with that ball and chain!
Trying to forget his situation, Legolas let his thoughts wander to a shiny butterfly floating past him. A stupid happy look crossed his face as he watched it flutter through the air.
Elrond poking him with the sword a little harder and whispering, “Ya best not be havin’ secund thoughts, boy…” brought him back to the situation at hand. Arwen had arrived, and was standing at the back of the chairs.
She was barefoot, and her pregnancy was beginning to show. Dressed in an antiqued white dress, she was a vision of loveliness.
-Great, bar’foot and pregnut,- thought Legolas. It was too cliché. The butterfly returned, and his mind was distracted again. It didn’t return till he realized that Arwen was actually sobbing as she walked up the aisle.
All eyes followed the bride to the background of snide whispers regarding the nature and circumstances surrounding the wedding. Most of the talk came from Haldir and his brothers, who were snickering none too softly. Annoyed with their mischief, Galadriel reached up and smacked Haldir in the back of the head causing him bang into Rumil who in turned banged into Orophin. She smirked as the three rubbed their heads glaring at her.
As Arwen passed Aragorn, she passed him a mournful look. It was not Legolas she wanted to marry. It was Aragorn.
She kept her eyes locked with his, as she trudged up the aisle. Of course this was not a simple task, as he sat at the back of the seating, and she thus was not watching where she was going. She tripped.
Quickly she stood back up, and rushed the rest of the way up the aisle.
Breathless she stood beside Legolas, who was once brought to the presence by his soon to be Father-in-Law. With a look of true terror, he clasped hands with Arwen. He shivered as the veil was pushed back to reveal her puffy tear-streaked face.
“Mah Eru,” he shrieked. He turned suddenly to glare at Elrond, as the elf poked him harder this time.
“That’s mah bebby gurl,” Elrond hissed.
Legolas looked back at her, and gulped down his dread, squeezing her hand a little too tight. Forcing himself not to think about it, he faced Sheriff Fin.
The whole area went silent, waiting expectantly for the Sheriff to speak.
“In the name of Ar Beluved Uru, Ah ask fur enny who believe this weddin’ should not take place to speak now or furever hold thar peace.”
Arwen cast a hopeful and sad look over her shoulder at Aragorn, who sat with his arms crossed, an indifferent look on his face.
Sighing heavily, Arathorn shoved his son out of his seat. Aragorn looked up at his dad with a looked of surprise.
“Whut’s that fur, daddy?” Aragorn hollered.
In a voice loud enough to wake the Valar, Arathorn hollered back, “Boy! Git on up thar! That thar is yore cue!”
Not to anyone’s surprise, but Legolas’, who had just realized what was happening as he had been distracted yet again, Aragorn jumped up and shouted across the guests.
“Stop that thar weddin’! That thar is mah elleth!”
“Yeehaw!” Shrilled Arwen, shoving her bouquet at Legolas, and kicking her legs up in the air, ran to Aragorn jumping into his arms.
Legolas stared at the couple kissing passionately and then back at the bouquet in his hand. Kicking up his legs and yelling, “Yeehaw,” he ran and jumped into Rumil’s arms and proceeded to suck face.