The marriage was a quiet affair, and Thorongil paid all expenses, much to Boromir's surprise. The stern, grudging expression on the elven prince's face never softened, but he had the ceremony arranged without delay and was present with the king as a second witness. Thranduil was broken hearted to see his younger son lost, but he smiled and fussed over him so that no one would realise the extent of his distress.
The evening of the wedding, he had taken Boromir aside and asked him:
"What are your plans? Will you reside in Mirkwood for a while? You are to be newly married, and deserve some time in peace with each other."
Boromir shook his head.
"We cannot stay, your highness. We are honour-bound to return to Minas Tirith and join Aragorn in the defence of Middle-Earth."
Thranduil smiled sadly.
"I was afraid that you would say so. I had hoped to spend more time with my first grandson. But if you must go, you must go. Only it is hard for me, to see my own child begin a new life far from me, and to know that I will never see him again if the forces of Sauron prevail."
"I am sorry. But our land is at war, as you well know. And if we do nothing, we will all perish. Let us hope instead that we shall have the victory, and you will be able to come and see your son and grandchild whenever you should so wish."
"Let us hope that indeed. Although, Boromir, it does not soothe the pain this union has caused me. For Legolas will become mortal, when he is bound to you. And when I set sail over the Sea, I will leave him forever."
Boromir did not know what to say to this, for he felt the grief of Thranduil, who knew he had to let his son go and could not imagine living in a world without him.
The king could not hold back his tears on the day of the marriage itself, although Thorongil's face was inscrutable. Boromir himself could barely contain a feeling of nervous excitement, which tightened his chest and set all his nerves alight. The ceremony took place in a large forest clearing in the late evening, and the boughs of the surrounding trees were bent heavy with tiny oil lamps which glittered and sparkled in the darkness like thousands of stars. It was a moment the man never forgot, for the mixture of anticipation and anxiety made his head swim, and the dark, heavy atmosphere of the trees encircled him, and he felt as if he were in a dream. Then, escorted by his attendants, his betrothed walked towards him. The elf wore trailing robes of silver-green satin, embroidered at the sleeves with mithril thread. There was no circlet upon his head, for he was renouncing his royal status, but his braids were woven with blossoming vines. He and his companions were all barefoot.
They made their vows of marriage there and then, in front of the small company. And as Legolas spoke the final words, and swore to honour his human lord until death, he knelt to touch the man's feet in accordance with tradition. But Boromir bent and brought him up, for he felt this would be more courteous in front of the elves. Then, they all raised their voices in song to bless the new couple, and wish them happiness in their lives together.
Legolas had not felt like feasting or dancing after the wedding was over. He made his excuses to Boromir and said he would meet him in his rooms after he had bathed their son and put him to bed. But when he went up slowly to the chamber that had been prepared for them, Boromir was not there. So he sat before the large mirror glass and waited alone.
He still wore his wedding robes, but his hair now hung loose about his shoulders. Slowly, he picked up a comb and drew it back with long, pensive strokes. Reflected before him was a small, pale face with large, troubled eyes. Behind him was a double bed, draped with dark velvet and satin, and it seemed to gape open like a hole to swallow him.
"I chose this with my eyes open," he said softly to himself. "I must go through with what I promised."
He stared into the glass for a long time, before he heard the sound of his husband approaching. Boromir came and sat behind him and rested his head on the elf's shoulder.
"You have been very quiet tonight, my love," he said. "Are you well?"
"I am well," he replied. "It is strange being back home, when so many things have changed, that is all."
"Yes, it is strange. I never dreamt that one day I would be be bound in marriage to one such as yourself. My beautiful Legolas! My own at last."
Legolas smiled diffidently and bent his head.
"I am glad you are happy," he said.
"Happier than I could have ever believed I might be." He drew the silken raiment down to bare the elf's alabaster shoulder, and bent his lips to the warm skin.
"I have been waiting for this night," he said, as he kissed Legolas upon his shoulder and collarbone. "I have longed for the time when you became mine entirely."
They stood together and Boromir guided him to the bed with his hands, his veins pounding with blood. But as he lifted aside the elf's tunic, his husband's body went rigid. Legolas drew his breath in sharply and clutched at the white scar on his throat as if it burned him.
"What is it?" asked Boromir, as Legolas stared at the floor, his hand pressed over the ugly bite-mark that marred his otherwise flawless skin. "Nothing," he said, shaking. "It is nothing, only . . . memories."
Boromir drew back.
"Legolas," he said gently, "if you wish to rest tonight, then do so. You have had a very long and tiring day. Go to sleep, I will not mind."
Legolas looked up, about to answer. But then he stopped himself. For he understood that Boromir was offering him an escape from what he dreaded. He wanted to say yes. The heavy draperies and sombre colours of the room seemed to suffocate him, and he fought a terrible fear of anyone gaining knowledge of him beyond what he could control. But he knew that if he agreed, he would never summon up the strength to face his fears again. He would break the promise he had made, to be a true husband to this man. So he shook his head.
"No, it is alright. I will lie with you tonight, as I said I would."
Boromir smiled.
"Then kiss me," he said, and embraced him upon the bed. "I will not hurt you," he promised.
He made love to Legolas very gently, sighing with pleasure, and then gathered him close.
"May the Valar bless you," he whispered in his ear. It was peaceful, and silent, and the well of joy in his heart overflowed. He slept, as the perfume of the elf's body suffused the warm night air.
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