She kissed him, softly and tenderly, on the lips. He accepted the gesture, his love kindling to bright flames of passion. They wrapped each other up in a loving embrace, and Elrond quietly slipped the ring onto his beloved oneÂ’s finger. He thrilled at the taste of her kiss; it was reminiscent of honey and athelas.

When at last they pulled apart from each other, Celebrían’s eyes were dancing with light-hearted mischief. She twirled nimbly away from him, laughing, “Catch me if you can!”

Elrond II grinned. This was exactly like the first evening of their courtship had been; their old game was on again. He leapt after her, and together they danced beneath the moon’s light. Eärendil, sailing across the heavens high above, seemed almost to smile down upon them as his light blazed forth all the brighter for this happy occasion.

When the two lovers finally returned to where Galadriel and Celeborn still awaited them, both of their faces were flushed in euphoria. The diamond ring gleamed upon Celebrían’s left hand as she held it forth to show to her parents.

Galadriel smiled wryly as she sent out a thought to Elrond II: *Did another ‘old friend’ of yours craft that ring for you?*

*Yes, and he was aided greatly by my godfather,* the half-elf answered in the same way. *It was really a team effort.*

The Lady nodded without a word, and Celeborn spoke up. “Now that that’s settled, we all have quite a number of choices to decide on; a date for the wedding, first of all, as well as where it will take place.”

“What better place for the ceremony than here in Lothlórien?” Elrond II laughed. “And as for a date, what do you think, Celebrían?”

“Whatever works for you,” the maiden replied graciously. “It really doesn’t matter to me, as long as you’re happy.”

“Just my thoughts,” Elrond smiled. “But since you said it first… how does Midsummer’s Day sound? It’s only the seventh of March today, so we’ll have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

Celebrían nodded. “That would be perfect.”

“There’s so much to decide!” Elrond II nearly wailed, throwing up his hands as he paced anxiously round and round his bedroom in Imladris. “We need bridesmaids, groomsmen, a ring-bearer, a flower girl, a maid of honor… and how in all of Eä am I supposed to pick a best man?” He glared across the room at his elder self. “You never said marriage would be so complicated!”

Elrond I shrugged absently from his place by the door. “Well, my wedding wasn’t nearly so frustrating. I didn’t have nearly as many friends then as we do now, so the decision of a best man was much easier. And don’t choose me,” he added hurriedly, when his godson shot him a rather pleading look. “It wouldn’t be fair. But I think I might have a solution to at least one of your other problems,” he remarked, as he turned his head slowly toward a tall, golden-haired, pale rose-clad figure who had just glided gracefully past the window on the opposite wall.

“What is it?” Elrond II asked, eager for anything that might relieve his workload, even in the slightest.

His godfather beamed as he answered, “Who would be a better candidate for a flower girl than Lady Vána? I’m sure she’d agree if you asked her respectfully; after all, flowers are what she loves best.”

“Good idea,” Elrond II nodded, smiling. “Where is she?”

“Leaning on your window-sill,” the Valië laughed. She nodded her head as Elrond turned and bowed to her. “I would be most honored to take part in your nuptial ceremony.”

“Many thanks, my lady,” Elrond II said gratefully. “I am honored that you would agree to be involved.”

Vána smiled benignly. “The pleasure is truly all mine.”

Elrond II laughed dryly to his other half. “Well, that’s part of one problem taken care of, at least.” He sniffed. “Now I only have several dozen left to tackle.”

“Well, we’ll just have to deal with them all one by one,” said Elrond I cheerily. “Besides, Celebrían and her parents will also be handling a lot of this. You should probably write to her regularly about whatever decisions you make.”

His godson nodded, a grin lighting his features. “I wonder how she’ll react when I tell her that one of the Valier agreed to be a flower girl?”

“Probably very similarly to how she reacted when you told her that you knew all fourteen of the Valar as quite personal friends and kinfolk,” Elrond I laughed. “We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we… yes, what is it, milady?” he said, turning to Vána a second time, as she cleared her throat with an obvious intent to speak.

“Is it not the custom for a so-called ‘flower girl’ to scatter flower petals before the bride and her groom?” the Valië inquired, a slight frown upon her lovely face. “Must it result in destruction?”

“Well, we don’t essentially have to keep every single one of the old traditions,” Elrond II reassured her. “You could perhaps will a border of flowers to sprout on either side of the pathway where Celebrían and I will walk. It’s the sort of thing you do, isn’t it?”

Vána warmed up to the scheme right away. “That is true. What variety of flowers did you have in mind, if any at all?”

The younger half-elf thought for a moment, then smiled. “How about white roses?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Elrond II smiled to himself as he added the finishing touches to the long list he had been working on for the past ten minutes. Now at last everything was in order, he noticed with great satisfaction. The list was a collection of wedding-preparation suggestions that had been made by both the half-elf himself and his wife-to-be; it was written just who would play each role in the marriage ceremony.

Elrond II had eventually decided to ask Maglor to be his best man (or elf, as it were), and Elrond I had consented to be the ring-bearer (the rings had, again, been made particularly for the event by Aulë). Galadriel and Celeborn would handle such necessities as food and accommodation for guests.

Now there was only the topic of what Elrond II would wear on the big day. That day was fast approaching – he had less than three weeks now: one to finish up any eleventh-hour preparations, and another two at most to get to Lothlórien.

The half-elf stood up from his desk and approached his wardrobe, pulling the door slowly open and gazing hopelessly at the selection of clothes that he had to choose from. He was decidedly going to wear a robe, so that narrowed his choice down by a half, but there was still quite an assortment to spare. He took each of the garments down from their pegs as he considered them; he couldnÂ’t decide whether he preferred the sapphire blue robe with silver embroidery, or the maroon one with copper-colored trim; on the other hand, maybe the violet one would become him betterÂ…

“I would wear the blue robe, if the choice were mine to make.”

Elrond II jumped and spun around, bowing reverently to Mandos, who inclined his head civilly back. The elf smiled as he spoke to his kinsman: “Was that just a personal opinion, sire, or will it affect my whole future in some terrible and cataclysmic way?”

“I merely thought that it would be of benefit to know that Celebrían will be wearing blue, white and silver to your conjugal ceremony,” answered the Doomsman calmly. “It would be suitable for you both if the two of you were dressed in attire of corresponding colors.”

Elrond II nodded, hanging the articles back up and draping the chosen one across his left arm. “The blue robe it is, then. Would you please, erm… that is to say, might I have some privacy for a few moments while I try it on?”

Mandos nodded, vanishing softly to leave his friend in peace. Elrond changed his clothes quickly, seeing with satisfaction that the robe still fit him well. He had no sooner finished than a knock sounded on the door, and he heard his mother’s voice from outside. “Elrond, may I come in?”

“Be my guest,” Elrond II answered graciously. “I was just trying on the robe I plan to wear for the ceremony.”

Elwing glowed with pride as she gave her son a once-over and a tight but tender embrace. “Oh, Elrond, look at you! You look perfect! Absolutely perfect!”

Elrond II’s face flushed a very vivid scarlet color, but gladly accepted the gesture. “I love you, too.”

Elwing nodded, stepping back from him after a moment. She looked him over again and laughed, “Maybe I should let you put your old clothes back on. You don’t want anything to happen to that robe before the Day.” The capital D was audible in her voice.

The half-elf agreed. “Good idea. I should probably finish packing my things as well.”

He had just changed back into his tunic and breeches when the Doomsman returned. The ValaÂ’s timing was so faultless that the elf at first flinched at his arrival, but soon grinned good-naturedly.

“There is no way you couldn’t have been watching me.”

Mandos merely smiled. “I was by no means spying on you. But, after dwelling in Vairë’s companionship for countless thousands of years, one might expect that my sense of time would be nothing less than impeccable.”

“That’s true,” Elrond II nodded. But just as soon, a crucial thought occurred to him. “We need someone to carry out the wedding rites. Galadriel and Celeborn will each have their own different roles to play, so it can’t be them.”

Mandos nodded. “I knew of that long ago. I have asked Manwë to be your minister, and he has readily consented. But no-one else must know – not even your bride.”

The atmosphere in Lothlórien was thick with anticipation. Elves had gathered together in the Golden Wood from other realms all across Middle-earth: Rivendell, Greenwood, and Mithlond for the special event – the much-spoken-about marriage of Elrond II of Imladris and Celebrían of Lothlórien. Both halves of the couple-to-be mingled cheerfully with the present company; they were clad in everyday clothing, as the ritual would not take place for a few hours yet. It was still before noon on Midsummer morning.

Elrond II beamed as he caught sight of a long-expected face in the crowd. He called to his best man (or best elf, as it were) as the lord of Mithlond advanced through the sea of reuniting kinsfolk. “Maglor, good to see you!”

“Better to see you, Elrond the Second!” Maglor hollered happily back. “When did you get here?”

“Me? Two nights ago! What about you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you rode through the night just to arrive in good time! No, make that four nights!”

The two friends embraced tightly as they met. Maglor really did look as if he hadnÂ’t got a fair nightÂ’s sleep in quite a while; his eyes had large dark circles under them, and the rest of his face was rather colorless, but he was as lively as ever. It seemed that the dominant positive mood of the wood was extremely contagious.

“I can’t tell you how honored I am,” said the lord of Mithlond, his sallow face flushing in pure elation. “Me, the best man at your wedding… me, of all people! I thought you would surely choose your godfather!”

“He didn’t even give me a proper opportunity to ask him,” Elrond II laughed. “I had only just opened my mouth, and he said, ‘No, don’t pick me, it wouldn’t be fair’. I suppose he was right. After all, he is my godfather. It would be rather like favoritism, wouldn’t it?”

Maglor nodded. “Have you seen Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn?”

“They passed this way a little while before I saw you,” the half-elf replied. “I’m not fully sure where they went after that, but I know that they headed in that direction.” He pointed eastward over the chattering elves’ heads.

“Thank you,” the other elf smiled. “Just in case I don’t see you until the ceremony, good luck!”

By noontime nearly all of the elves were gathered on the lawn of Caras Galadhon for the event of the season. All but those few who would enter separately stood in a group below the tallest mallorn tree in the forest, whispering among themselves as they eagerly waited for the beginning of the procession. They left a wide path clear for those who would enter there; Elrond II and Maglor were already standing before the others.

Elwing anxiously wrung her hands as she tried to calm herself. As mother of the groom, she was required to start off the ceremony as she headed to her seat. At the moment, she was well hidden in the thicker trees. After what seemed hours, she heard a whisper in her mind that her entry-time was now.

She emerged from the trees and strode with dignity down the clear path, toward the front of the group. The murmuring of the elves died away as soon as she appeared. Next down the aisle came the bridesmaids and groomsmen, five of each (Elrond had rejected the idea of four each, for reasons best known to himself). They stood on either side of the groom, leaving a gap ready for the bride.

Then Vána made her entrance; as promised to the groom, two rows of ivory roses sprang up on the borders of the aisle, budding and blooming in only moments as the Valië willed them to. Elrond I came slightly behind her, carrying the rings he and Aulë had made long before. After them strode the maid of honor that the bride and groom had chosen.

The notes of a wedding march filled the still air as Celebrían appeared, walking between her parents, toward her future husband. Clothed in a gown of white, silver and blue silk studded with tiny pearls, with her face hidden by a gossamer veil, she had an ambiance of mysterious beauty around her. Galadriel and Celeborn were little less regal, wearing only blue and silver, without white. They proceeded in silence, their heads held high.

By this time the watchers had noticed something was amiss. Who would perform the rites of the wedding? Everyone was in his or her place, yet there was still an unoccupied space in front of the bride and groom. Why was this so?

Their answer came mere moments later, when a wispy shape, like pale blue smoke, came into view between the couple and the audience. It took on a definite form as they watched with awe-filled eyes. A head, a torso, arms and legs appeared. The body was clothed in a robe the hue of the summer sky; his hair fell past his shoulders like a smooth rain of gold. His eyes sparkled kindly as he smiled upon them all and spoke.

“Children of Eru, dearly beloved, you are gathered here together to witness the union of this ellon and this elleth in holy matrimony…”