My Sister, the Sensible One (full story)

Chapter Seven

You strode towards the table that was heaped with delicious looking foods, gripping Arwen's wrist, so as not to lose her amongst the crowd. As you drew nearer the scents grew stronger and stronger, and were intoxicating by the time you stood only a few feet away, but no less wonderful. You keep your eyes alert for any sign of Aragorn, but so far, you have not seen him at the table yet. One part of you hopes never to see him again to avoid the awkward exchange with Arwen that you both love the same man, yet you feel that every bone in your body ache to be with him again, and never be away. "Where do you want to sit?" You ask in Arwen's ear as you stand before many empty chairs. You hear a loud voice crying above the crowd, "Princess Arwen, and Princess y/n!" And everyone draws away from the table to allow us to seat ourselves. You feel the eyes of every man, elleth and ellon on you as you both were suddenly the center of attention. You do not feel only admiration in their gaze, but you somehow feel as if some are judging or even despising you for who and what you are. You are suddenly very self-conscious and wonder what you did wrong; Did you wear too grand a dress? Do people now think you very prissy, or stuck up? You hope your graceful attitude didn't look like you were looking down your nose at everyone. Perhaps it did, and now you are suddenly thought of as a very uptight princess who cares nothing about her people. You feel your hands grow clammy and the room suddenly seem very warm.

You look over your shoulder slightly to look at the crowd, and the sea of faces makes you feel a bit dizzy. Face after face, all looking at you, and not one truly knows you. Your heart begins to pound in your ears, for you've never been in such a spotlight as this before. You vaguely hear Arwen say that she wishes to sit next to ada, but her voice seems faraway and lost. Or perhaps you are the one lost in the crowd's eyes, unable to find your way back to being comfortable. From face to face your eyes scan, searching for some kind of encouraging look in at least one person's eyes to help you find your way back.

Then, amidst the sea of unreadable face, your eyes landed on Aragorn. He at first was staring off in the distance, as if in deep thought, then he seemed to feel your stare, so his eyes flicked back to you. His whole expression lit up, and he smiled. A true, genuine smile, and you felt the butterflies suddenly flutter around you.

This kind gesture from Aragorn seems to fill you with strength. 'At least I know someone is on my side.' You smile back, the fear draining from you. You lift your chin regally and straighten your shoulders, feeling ready to face whatever was ahead of you. You felt yourself wanting to make Aragorn proud.

"Let's sit here," Arwen says quietly, allowing one of the servants to pull the chair out for her. You blink, bringing yourself back to reality. You suddenly realize that everything you just felt was only in about two seconds. It felt like minutes or hours, but truly, virtually no time had even passed. A chair right next to Arwen is pulled out for you, and, after nodding your thanks to the servant, you sit down, keeping your back straight and your head held high. The voice now shouts, "Prince Elladan and Prince Elrohir!" You look straight ahead to see, from a place within the crowd, your two brothers now stride forward towards the table. Their clothes were perfectly straight, clean, and their hair was combed and washed, allowing it's true dark brown color to shine through instead of being masked by dirt and dust. As they walk passed the sea of people and take their place at the table across from you and Arwen, you feel a sense of pride creep into your chest for your brothers; they were the best warriors Rivendell had, as well as the best brothers you could ask for. You eye them both from across the table, silently applauding their entrance. They both smile and nod back, thanking you, as well as complimenting you and Arwen on your choice of wardrobe. You had been able to silently communicate with your siblings since you were all but children – no one could explain how you did it when your father summoned advice, nor were you able to explain it. It was only something siblings understand.

"King Elrond of Rivendell!" You look up to see your father now approach the table; his garments gleaming in the soft candlelight, making him seem like a god rather than your father. He also holds himself with a regal air, causing you to suddenly remember how much of a king he truly was. He just never showed his royal side when he was with any of his children. He seats himself, then makes a motion for the rest of the people to sit. Now the room fills with the scuffling of feet across the shiny floor, and the low rumble of conversation as everyone made themselves comfortable.

Your father takes your hand in his as the food begins to be served. "I hope this won't upset you, but I must tell you;" He says, smiling kindly at you. At first you are concerned, but you note the sweetness in his voice and the happiness in his eyes, so you know he is only teasing. He sighs before speaking, "Tonight, sweet y/n, you remind me so much of your mother I can barely believe it." A smile spreads across your face so brilliantly happy you worry that everyone will notice it. "The way you were speaking to everyone in the room with such kindness and grace, I almost believed it was not you standing there, but your mother's ghost." He squeezes your hand. "You have grown into a beautiful young elleth, and I am very proud of you." You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you laugh and throw your arms around your father's neck. Being told that you reminded your father of your mother was absolutely the best compliment you could ask for.

After about a half an hour of eating and conversing, your father suddenly stands from his chair and gently taps his glass with his silverware, making a high-pitched ring spread through the air until everyone's attention was focused on him. Then he smiled and raised his glass. "A toast, my guests." He raised his voice a bit, "And to peace!"

"To peace!" The table echoed after him, then everyone drank their beverages. Arwen and I sipped our water, and I secretly felt jealous of our brothers who were openly allowed to drink wine. But it was a grand day and a celebration, so I couldn't hold my grudge for too long. Arwen and I exchange eyes as a few of the men of Gondor begin pouring their wine down their throats as if they were dying of thirst, the red liquid running down their beards like little rivers. We both agreed that we think unrestrained drinking is disgusting, and people should actually take time to taste what they're drinking instead of setting the goal as to see the bottom of their cup.

After everyone was finished with their toasting, your father looks across the table at someone. As you follow your father's gaze, you are shocked to see him staring directly at Aragorn! You try to look at him to ask what was going on, but he did not notice your stare. Then your father spoke aloud, "Do you wish to say anything, Lord Aragorn?" Again, you are very surprised at how your father refers to him with such respect, and you wonder why Aragorn would say anything. He stood from his chair and cleared his throat, straightening his tunic by pulling it by its hem. "I just wish to say that, I believe we are very blessed to be invited here, and be treated with such kindness from Lord Elrond, and I must remind you that, despite what many of you may think," he eyed a few of the men around him accusingly. "These elves are our brothers and sisters, and we are to treat them with the highest of respects and dignity." The men mumbled their agreement, nodding to each other, then flashing smiles to some of the elves around them. Aragorn's eyes looked around the table until they rested on you, and he also gave you a warm smile – the smile that makes the butterflies in your stomach dance madly in your stomach. You smile back, hoping your face doesn't give away your stomach.

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