Celewen woke up to a lot of hustling in her room. When she opened her eyes, she could see a dozen maids running this way and that. Before she had a chance to wonder why, she groaned. It was her wedding day. She then quickly regained her senses and closed her eyes so that she could sleep a bit longer. No such luck. Ariwen came over to shake her awake, “Celewen daughter of Elessar! Get your rutting lazy head off of that pillow right now or I’ll drag you off of it!” Gulping, Celewen complied. That was not a threat to be taken lightly, for Ariwen had been taking lessons from Éowyn.
“Fine,” Celewen grumbled. “You’ve been hanging around Éowyn too much.”
Ariwen grinned, “What do you expect me to do, fence with my husband all day? I think not!”
Celewen rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Come, let us go before my mother comes to rouse me.”
Éomer looked on in frustration as his son while Aragorn chuckled beside him with ill concealed mirth. Elfwine was fretting. Looking at Gondor’s King, Éomer grumbled, “Did Eldarion do anything like this at his wedding?”
Aragorn quickly sobered and bowed his head in mock horror. “You have no idea.”
Elfwine rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics and then directed his attention back to his son. “Elfwine! This is doing no good. Stop this nonsense immediately and put down that glass of wine, you’re making me want one as well!” When he was that his son was ignoring him, he barked out, “That was not a request!”
Aragorn whistled. “Well done, Éomer!”
As he was in a bad mood, Éomer growled, “Whatever you say, Wingfoot.”*
Aragorn then lost control of himself and doubled over with laughter, quickly ducking the blow that Rohan’s King sent him.
Faramir groaned. This was the last thing he needed. Just a few hours ago they had found out that Ariwen was with child. Éowyn had then promptly begun to stalk her daughter-in-law to make sure that no harm had befallen the babe. Arwen had also taken to observing Thorwen closely and watching for any signs of a pregnancy, which she would not find for another few years. His King then joined him. “All is in readiness, Sire.” Faramir bowed to his liege.
Aragorn laughed merrily. “Do not dwell on ceremony here, Faramir! `Tis a celebration! Rohan will have a Crown Princess in a few minutes.” Blinking, Faramir shook his head. Aragorn had taken to the pipe again, and possibly some ale.
“As you say, My King.”
At that moment, the trumpets were blown. All in Minas Tirith were there to see their youngest Princess wed. Everyone from the lowliest peasant to the highest lord. King Elessar then strode out to the atlas with Elfwine, waiting for the bride to arrive. Appearing in the most dazzling of white gowns, Celewen walked up to the atlas and knelt beside her soon-to-be husband.
*Wingfoot is the name that Éomer gave Aragorn when they first met upon the plains of Rohan.
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