By Dawn's Early Light by Grundy

Riding Lessons

Tindomiel frowned, dubious that this was a good idea. She had come to acknowledge, albeit somewhat grudgingly, that Arwen did usually know what she was talking about. And she insisted it could be done…

“You’re sure it’s possible to ride in skirts?” she asked skeptically.

Arwen smirked.

“Of course. I often ride.”

It went without saying that Arwen only rarely bothered with leggings. She was a full-tilt elven princess, and Tindomiel had to admit, it worked for her. Once she’d gotten over the theory that her oldest sister was being a butt trying to edge Buffy out, she’d realized Arwen also shared what had previously been referred to as the Summers shopping gene. Clearly it was actually a peredhil thing, because Arwen said the boys were the same way, just more about weapons than clothes.

Arwen had been delighted when her baby sister had given up resisting her efforts to give her wardrobe an overhaul. Consequently, Tindomiel was now the best dressed elleth in Imladris, bar none, and nearly all her dresses were tailor made to fit her and no one else. The fancy elven hairdos to go with it were still giving her trouble, but Arwen assured her it would come with practice- Arwen made it look easy because she’d been at it for thousands of years. And it didn’t seem to bother Arwen in the least that her baby sister needed help with her hair on a regular basis.

The only thing that was still annoying about her oldest sister was that Arwen shared all their siblings' belief that Tindomiel was too young to have weapons. She had refused to have the smiths make anything for her, and while Ada gave in to Tindomiel’s persuading on most things, he agreed with Arwen this time. So did Nana. They insisted she had much to learn before she would be allowed weapons of her own. Tindomiel was biding her time- sooner or later, they’d have to give in.

Arwen’s latest idea was to start teaching her new skills to match the clothes, despite Tindomiel’s protests that she could always change into pants to ride or fight. Her oldest sister had pointed out that one could not always know of a situation in time to change clothing. It was a maddening argument, mostly because Tindomiel had yet to find a suitable comeback for it.
There was a definite challenge in Arwen’s expression.

“You realize you will not be able to make the journey to Lothlorien to visit Grandmother and Grandfather until you can demonstrate to Ada that you ride well enough to get yourself safely away should we encounter trouble on the road?”

Tindomiel glared. Arwen was deliberately picking on a sore spot. She was the only one who had never been. And here in Arda visits to the grandparents weren’t just for one or two nights - Buffy and their brothers had been gone for the best part of a year now, and were showing no signs of coming home anytime soon.

“Glorfindel taught me how to ride!” she protested.

“He did,” Arwen agreed. “In leggings. And he still feels you should improve before attempting long journeys.”

Tindomiel rolled her eyes. Unlike most Arwen ideas, this was stupid- Buffy could barely ride at all when the gwenyn dragged her off adventuring. And she definitely hadn’t learned how to ride in fancy dresses, because the boys had decided on the visit to Lothlorien before Arwen had been back long enough to have anything new made for her. Their brothers were wonderfully practical and hadn’t bothered trying convince Buffy to start wearing dresses.

“Nana intends to visit her parents soon,” Arwen remarked. “Ada will remain here, but he will hardly let her ride alone. If you were a proficient rider by the time she sets out, we could ride with them...”

That did it. She was not getting left at home again! If everyone else was going to see Lothlorien, Tindomiel was darn well going to do whatever it took to go with them.

She eyed the saddle, then her skirt. This really was not going to go well- she didn’t need Ada’s foresight to predict that she was going to end up tripping and falling at least once. Her only hope was that there wouldn’t be too many elves around to see- or worse, Estel. Stupid mortal boy always managed to be around whenever she did something embarrassing. It was like he had a sixth sense for when she was about to turn into a complete klutz.

“So how do you do this again?”