The Prince's Visions

Chapter Thirty eight

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For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self control. - 2 Timothy 1:7

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Eilonwy

The next week races by quickly, both Legolas and I anxiously awaiting a letter from his parents. We are side by side almost every waking moment-except when Lady Celebrian and Glosseth pull me away from him in order to quiz me on how exactly I want my dress to look. The feeling is indescribable when we are together now. He looks at me in a way that makes me blush right down to my toes, and it seems that it is harder than ever before for him to keep his hands to himself.

The day after Legolas proposed to me, I sat down at my desk and scribbled out a letter to Aragorn. My thoughts were so jumbled, I only hope I was able to convey the extent of my happiness to him. The letter was several pages long, detailing every little thought and feeling I have had since coming to Rivendell... so the letter was mostly about Legolas.

I asked Aragorn and his family to travel to Rivendell if Thranduil and Nithroel allow us to marry, and I told him of how I wish desperately for Estrith to be the flower girl in our wedding. If we do get permission to marry, I intend to invite Galadriel and Celeborn, also. All I want is a small wedding with just Legolas's family and our friends, and I will be happy.

"What are you thinking of, Mell nín (My beloved)?"

Legolas twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. We both lie on a soft chaise in his room. I lie wrapped in his arms, my back against his chest, and I can feel his heart beating beneath me. I turn my head slightly to look up at him. "Our wedding," I tell him quietly, turning my gaze away from him in slight embarrassment, "I am nervous."

He chuckles slightly. "I would be a fool to claim that I am not nervous," he says, sighing slightly, "But you should not worry. 'Twill only be our family and friends watching."

I shift slightly. "I know," I whisper, not wanting to tell him why I am truly nervous. In all honesty, I am terrified of our wedding night. To finally be his in such a soul binding way- to become one with him- frightens me. I am very shy, and the thought makes me cringe. But at the same time, I want him more than anything in the world. I want to be his wife, in spirit and in body. I want to experience what it feels like to wake up to his sleepy smile and his loving, bright blue eyes. The thought sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach, but Legolas rubs my arm soothingly, breaking me from my thoughts.

"You are hiding something from me," he says lowly, his lips brushing my ear, "If you are having second thoughts... if you do not wish to marry me then-"

"Legolas," I cut him off quickly, turning around in his lap to face him, "Do not be ridiculous."

He does not answer, only reaching up to touch my face softly. His eyes are soft and slightly sad, and I stare at him in astonishment. "You really think that?" I breathe out, slightly hurt by his assumption, "You think I do not wish to marry you?"

He lets his fingers fall, running down the skin of my neck and across my collarbone. He does not meet my gaze. "I do not know," he says quietly, "You seem unhappy, and I do not wish for you to be. If I have pressured you in anyway-"

I close my eyes tightly, and he trails off. "I love you," I tell him, my voice thick with emotion, and I open my eyes and meet his gaze, "I love you, and I want nothing more than to be your wife. I just... I am afraid."
His eyebrows furrow deeply as he stares at me. "Afraid? Why are you afraid?"

I sigh, my heart picking up speed in my chest as he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I divert my gaze. "I do not know how to be a princess or a queen. I get nervous in crowds, and speaking in front of them terrifies me. I am not a leader, nor do I know how to rule a kingdom. And I do not know how to be a wife," I say quietly, my voice wavering on my last sentence, and I become nervous to explain why I am truly scared, "Also, y-you know that I am shy... and, well-"