Into the West (A Lord of the Rings Fan Fic)

Chapter Twenty Eight

The morning of Aragorn’s coronation dawned bright and clear, the summer sun shining across the plains and glittering on the walls of Minas Tirith, making them gleam with a dazzling light and glow like an enormous beacon. In Amaruil’s room at the top of the city the maid Faramir had assigned to serve her, despite her protestations at being more than capable of dressing herself, was fussing over her as she chose which dress she should wear. Although she hadn’t brought many luxurious gowns with her, being more concerned with travelling clothes and things appropriate for everyday wear, she had luckily had the foresight to realise that there may well be occasions where she would be required to dress up and so had brought a small selection of her favourites with her.

“These are all so lovely my lady,” her maid exclaimed as she rifled through Amaruil’s wardrobe. “I wish I had some Elvish clothes, they all look so fantastic. How can you ever choose what to wear in the mornings?”

“Well I do have more than enough mornings to wear them on,” she laughed as she watched the people assembling below, running between the houses as they conferred with their friends, some already hurrying through the streets in order to get a good view of the return of the king. “I think that I will wear the light blue dress today; could you get that one out for me please Maroen?”

“Of course my lady,” she replied as she emerged from the wardrobe with a long dress as pale a blue as the morning sky when the sun first rises and covered in silver embroidery which made it shimmer in the rays of light which burst through the windows; the sleeves were slit open, baring Amaruil’s forearms and falling to the skirts, the silver embroidery becoming more and more dense towards the bottom of their fabric and giving the impression that the bottom of her sleeves were in fact made of silver material. Pulling it over Amaruil’s head Maroen deftly fastened the many small buttons which ran up the back and loosely tied the long fabric of the sleeves together behind her back. “Just to make sure they don’t drag and get dirty my lady,” she explained as she led Amaruil over to the stool beside her vanity and sat her down. “How will you have your hair today?”

“Just something simple please Maroen,” she replied, “I don’t mind as long as it’s off my face.”

“Of course,” she replied as she began to brush Amaruil’s hair out before braiding the hair at the front away from her face and securing the plaits with a silver and pearl pin before sliding a number of tiny pearls in amongst the tresses so that they studded her hair. Presenting her shoes to her and untying sleeves of her dress Maroen assessed Amaruil and her appearance before nodding in satisfaction. “Will there be anything else my lady?” she asked.

“No, you may go and try to get the best spot Maroen,” Amaruil laughed as she bobbed a curtsey and all but sprinted out of the door.

“You’re ready early,” Legolas laughed, catching it before it shut.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she jumped. “I wasn’t expecting that! You surprised me!”

“I can see,” he smiled as he closed it gently and moved over to where she stood. “You look beautiful Amaruil,” he whispered as he wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and let it slide through the others.

“Le hannon,” she blushed, “but it is almost all the work of my maid Maroen.”

“Ah but you must make at least a little allowance for the natural beauty of her canvas and the bias of love,” he smiled as his thumb traced her collarbone which was exposed by the scooped neck of her dress.

“I will allow for the bias of love I suppose,” she laughed.

“Good because, although you are beautiful by the standards of any elf, you are even more beautiful to me,” he said. “I would believe you to be the incarnation of one of the elves of old, renowned and fabled for their beauty, perhaps some ethereal Tinúviel, even if you appeared to me dressed in naught but leaves, fur and dirt.”