A Dress to Draw Attention by chrissystriped

A Dress to Draw Attention

Read A Dress to Draw Attention

“Your mother is going to have a fit, if you show up at the feast clothed like that.”

Celegorm’s words echoed in Aredhel’s head as she stepped into the hall. Anaire was glaring at her, she’d tried to bring her up as quiet proper princess, but to Aredhel that had always felt like a cage — it wasn’t her. All the nobles that had been invited to welcome her and Lómion in their new live were staring at her.

She curtsied to her uncle and father, who sat next to each other at the high table and found her place next to her brothers. She walked carefully, the shoes needed some getting used to. Lómion fidgeted nervously as he followed her.

“Really?” Turgon mumbled. “Wearing telerin fashion at a noldorin feast.”

“And why not?” Aredhel smiled at him. “I thought we were reconciled. Just because everyone is so closed up here, doesn’t mean I can’t show a bit of skin. And I love the colour.”

The dove-grey of the fabric had caught her eye the moment she’d walked into the shop. It was not her usual white, apart from the pattern of waterdrops, embroidered in seed pearls around the hem and neck.

“And look. I’m even wearing our house's colour for once, so really no one can complain.” She pointed to the blue sash around her waist.

Fingon chuckled. “Will you dance with me later, little sister?”, he asked. “This dress looks like it is made for dancing.”

“Gladly.”

Aredhel smiled at him, then she threw a glance at Lómion sitting on her other side, but the scheme she had worked out with her father — seating Celebrimbor right next to him — seemed to have worked. Her son had been so nervous about this evening, meeting all these people — some he knew, some he didn’t — who all thought him a traitor, but now he was talking animatedly with his cousin, whom he’d already met a few times. She smiled and relaxed a little.

Fingolfin was doing his best to make Lómion feel welcome and get the true story around of how Morgoth had taken his knowledge from him. But things that had so long been considered the truth, where hard to overcome. She was glad that her son seemed to have made at least one friend.

 

Fingon whirled his sister around to the lively music. The cloth of her dress smooth under his hand. It was a beautiful dress, if showing a little too much skin for noldorin sensibilities.

“Why did you decide to shock mother and half of the nobles of Tirion?”, he asked with a grin when the music stopped.

“I’ll tell you, if you find a seat for me. These shoes are killing me.”

Fingon noticed her limping a little as he led her to an alcove and sat down on the stone bench with her. She pulled off her shoes and rubbed her toes with a sigh.

“I seriously underestimated how uncomfortable those are”, she said.

Fingon noticed the tattoos on her ankles (another cause for argument with their mother when she’d come home with them from a hunt).

“Did you get these new already or did you come back with them?”

“I came back with them.” Aredhel smiled at him. “They are so much part of my body, that my fea remembered them, I guess.”

Fingon leaned back and enjoyed the quiet for a bit.

“So… why the dress?”, he asked again.

Aredhel chuckled. “Can’t I just wear it, because I like it?” She shrugged. “I knew Lómion was nervous about this evening and I thought it would be better if people were staring at me instead of him. And I also really like it.”

Fingon laughed and leaned his head against hers.

“Oh, I missed you, little sister.”

Aredhel turned her head to kiss his cheek.

“I missed you, too, brother”, she answered. “I just… I couldn’t leave Mandos without my Lómion.”

“I know.” Fingon squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Do you think, I should look for him?”

Fingon held her back, before she could get up.

“Last time I saw him, he was with Celebrimbor and a couple others and he was laughing. What would you have said, if mother had shadowed you at such a feast?”

Aredhel smiled ruefully. “I’m getting a little overprotective, hm? It’s just… he can get so anxious about what people think of him.”

“As I said, he seemed to have fun. Relax, little sister.”

Fingon rubbed her back. “You’re not alone anymore. The family is going to look after him, too, now.”

“Thank you.” Aredhel squeezed his hand. “I’m glad, everyone is so accepting — even Turgon.”

“He knows it wasn’t your son’s fault.” She hadn’t drawn back her hand and Fingon held it tightly. “We’ll make sure he’ll find his place. You’ll both be happy again.”

He knew life in Beleriand hadn’t been kind to her in her last years. He would make sure things would be better now, for both her and her son.