#elfcard

Elfcard by @wyyvernn reminded me of the GOAT himself, and I figured that elves just across the board marry for love (especially if it’s arranged 👀)

Will be updated/posted on Ao3 soon.

Heart hammering in your chest, you waited until the large oak doors opened before you. As the procession started, you slowly made your way down the aisle.

You were a half-elf, heir to two of the most prominent elf and human families in Middle Earth, but that did not prevent the idle gossip. This marriage taking place was one of a convenient alliance and the stares from the other nobles were harsh reminders of you being the outsider to them.

So here you were now walking with maids by your side, covered with silken robes and lies in a gilded floral hall, to be married to a stranger you’ve never met. Weddings should be a joyous occasion, as it was for your parents, but the sun could not hide the feelings of this being a death march.

The tall figure before you, your betrothed, stood out otherwise. He carried himself as regal as the rest of his people, yet his eyes held no malice towards you. It was something soft…a fondness? Pity, maybe?

If you were a mind-reader, you would have been proven otherwise. Alucard knew that you would not have had this arrangement, but there was still a sense of admiration he had for you. Prior to this arrangement, he had heard of you before: battle prowess, council seats of power, and your popularity with most. Say for the majority of his people.

Nevertheless, he had seen your portraits before but they paled in comparison to the vision you were today. More lovely and regal than the others, and while the nobles thought it amusing to practically gift wrap you for the occasion, he would want you to come to love him in his own time. Alucard knew of his budding feelings for you.

As soon as you reached him and the officiant, your hands were clasped together with the braided rope for the binding ceremony. Your heart hammered in your chest, praying that he couldn’t feel how nervous you were. You were so lost in thought, you didn’t notice the comforting stroke of Alucard’s slender fingers against your hand.

Reciting the vows written for you felt as mundane as doing a chore, but you spoke quickly in a vain attempt to quicken the ceremony. When it was Alucard’s turn to speak, he spoke freely. You were not entirely fluent in the Elvish tongue, but you got the sense of what he promised.

It was a vow of promises, of possibilities. To let love grow naturally and beautifully between you two. That you belonged to none, but would grant him the privilege if you allowed it. For the possibilities of a family, something he had the happiest memories from.