Review responses:
Bubble-Sheep: It wasn't my best chap, though. This one is much better in my opinion! Thanks for your review.
Wendy: Thanks.
Kittyfantastico: Thank you. The feast IS this chapter, and also next chapter as well. I was originally going to do it all as one chapter, but then I realised I had far too much to do at the feast just to make it one.
Mafer: I don't write THAT well, stop flattering me! In fact, I'm not good at all compared to some I've seen, but practice makes perfect, right? Or almost perfect!
What do you mean sorry about your last review? What's there to be sorry for?
A/N: OK, this chapter is REALLY long, but I hope it's good. I certainly think it's better than last chap. Please review if you are reading this, a sentence will do although the longer the better! I like to know who's reading my fics, and I DO accept anonymous reviews now, so no excuse.
Right, lecture finished. On with the story!
Half-an-hour later, Arwen was stood in Miriel's room while the Dunedain women fussed around her, choosing a dress for her and arranging her hair in beautiful braids, a unique style mingling Elven and Dunedain culture.
While they worked, Arwen allowed her mind to wander. She was glad that her ankle had healed so she could dance with Aragorn, but part of her also wished that it were still injured, for she was a foreigner in Rohan and did not know any Rohirric dances.
Eventually, Miriel weaved a silver circlet into her hair, fastened it and stood back to admire their handiwork.
She smiled and nodded, and then spun Arwen around to face the mirror.
Arwen almost gasped at the sight before her. She did not look like herself at all…
The dress Miriel had chosen was a deep marine blue, with a slight hint of green, a colour that suited Arwen very well. It was different to the Elven dresses Arwen was accustomed to, however. The material was not so thin and light as an Elven dress, and at first it felt slightly cumbersome, although Arwen was sure she would soon get used to that. It was a fairly straight cut, unlike Elven gowns, which tended to cling a little more to the body of the wearer. It had a silvery-white sash at the waist, which compensated for the straight cut by drawing the material in a little at her waist and allowing it to go looser at the hips. The gown had a low, yet not immodest, neckline that was similar to many Elven necklines, except that the material around the neckline had been sown so as to be wavy rather than straight. Other than this sewing, the sash and the easily visible silver thread used along these wavy edges, the dress was totally unadorned. The material was bunched together at the base of Arwen's shoulders, and passed over them as a thin band, leaving her arms free.
Yet Arwen liked it in its simplicity. She no longer felt like an intruder, but rather as one of the crowd that she stood in. The Elven dresses she wore back in Rivendell she often considered too heavily adorned. Most had intricate patterns sewn onto the fabric, and some of her best ones had tiny jewels added as well. Arwen usually liked it, but sometimes she would feel like she was in costume, and much preferred her simpler dresses.
The women had also draped a thin silvery shawl around her shoulders, presumably to stop her arms getting cold. It was a good idea for a feast such as this; Arwen could slip it on if she went outside or felt chilled, yet she could remove it in order to dance with her beloved.
Arwen's eyes turned to her hairstyle. This matched the simplistic beauty of the dress. Miriel had made several small plaits that wound together gently to form an intricate design, but the rest of Arwen's hair had been left down. The plaits were more to stop Arwen's hair blowing about or getting in her eyes than for adornment, but Arwen thought they worked quite well for the latter, also. Black thread had been used to fasten the plaits, rather than ribbon, so that people's eyes would be drawn to the actual plaits rather than to the less attractive ends. The thread could not be seen at all against Arwen's cobalt-black hair.
Into the plaits Miriel had woven the simple silver circlet, the only jewellery or accessory on Arwen's whole body. As she looked about, she noticed many of the women wore gold or silver circlets, and some wore silver chain-like circlets rather than solid ones. Arwen made a note to ask Aragorn about their significance later; she did not wish to seem ignorant to the others.
"Do you like it, my lady?" Miriel asked.
Arwen noticed that the dress Miriel wore was not so beautiful as the one she had lent Arwen, and Arwen suddenly felt a little guilty. Surely, she had robbed this woman of her best dress!
"The dress is absolutely stunning, yet please, call me Arwen." Arwen paused. "Yet, surely this dress is too beautiful to lend to another. Thank you very much."
"You are most welcome, Arwen."
"I am grateful, but I do not wish to rob you of one of your best dresses!"
"You are not robbing me of it, only borrowing it! Please, do not mention it. It suits you very well, I believe. Do you like how I have arranged your hair?"
"Oh yes, and the circlet complements it wonderfully."
"It is not merely an accessory, Arwen."
"I thought not, for you all seem to be wearing circlets, although they are of different styles. What are they for, may I ask?"
Arwen and Miriel continued talking as Miriel escorted her out of the room and towards the feasting hall.
"A simple silver circlet, like the one you are wearing, shows that you are betrothed. A gold one means that you are married."
"What about one like you have, there?" Arwen asked, indicating the loose silver chain on Miriel's head.
"That says that I am an adult, old enough to marry, but not yet 'taken', as you may put it. This is my first time of wearing it, for before now I had not felt ready for a husband."
"So you get to choose when…"
"Indeed, although you are given one of these chains once you reach twenty-three, but you choose when you feel ready to wear it. I am twenty nine."
"It has been unworn for six years?"
"Indeed. You see, I was a woman of fighting, not romance. I never wanted to wear it before now, because I had no interest in courting. Indeed, I felt awkward around any man who even commented on my looks. But six years is not so long; one woman I know has let her chain circlet lie idle for over twelve, and does not plan to wear it. She says she has no need of a husband to… I believe her words were 'order me about'. But I will not give names."
"No, that would be immoral. May I inquire what made you decide to wear yours tonight? I do not wish to pry, so please do not tell me anything you do not wish to say."
"Indeed I will tell you, for it concerns you closely. After I saw you and Estel, and how happy you were together, I began to wonder if I would ever find someone to be just as happy with."
Arwen chuckled. "I'm certain you will. They will be fighting over you, I assure you!"
"You flatter me, Arwen!" Miriel laughed, blushing.
At that moment, Arwen saw Aragorn talking to Legolas and Gimli near one of the golden pillars. Miriel called out to him, and he turned towards them.
Aragorn gasped at the sight before him. Arwen looked even more beautiful than usual. Although he would never admit it to Arwen or Elrond, he thought that Arwen looked even better in the simplistic Dunedain dress than she did in any of her fancily woven Elven ones. He saw the silver band in her hair and a smile broke out over his face. This wasn't only borrowing a dress, he realised suddenly, but it was a welcome and acceptance by his people.
"What do you think, Estel?" Miriel asked.
Aragorn swallowed and tore his eyes away from Arwen, turning to his kinswoman.
"She looks wonderful… even more beautiful than usual," he said, smiling as he saw Arwen redden at his praise. "Thank you."
His eyes then caught the silver chain in Miriel's hair.
"Miriel!" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Are you… why are you wearing that?"
"The usual reason anyone wears it," was her answer. "Why is it any of your business anyway?"
"It's just you left it six years, and I wondered why you chose to wear it tonight."
"I have told Arwen just now, and perhaps she will pass it onto you. I do not feel like constantly repeating myself."
"Nay, there is no need to explain yourself, I was just a little curious. It is your affair, I apologise for prying."
"Don't mention it. I understand your curiosity."
Aragorn paused for a moment, then he laughed. "Anyway," he said lightly, "I know someone who'll be pleased."
Miriel's eyes snapped straight to Aragorn's. "Who?" She inquired eagerly.
Aragorn grinned. "You'll see. Well, that's if he gets up enough courage to ask you for a dance!"
"Who's asking Miriel for a dance?" Rochwen said from behind them, making them all jump.
Aragorn grinned. "Can you keep it secret, little one? I'll tell you if you promise not to say a word."
"I promise!"
Aragorn bent down and whispered in Rochwen's ear.
"Really!" Rochwen said loudly, just to aggravate her sister's curiosity. "Now that is a surprise."
"Rochwen, stop it!" Miriel laughed. "Either tell me who it is or be silent about it."
"I'll be silent."
"Rochwen!" Miriel moaned, as they began to make their way into the main hall.
They had just walked into the main feasting hall when Éowyn entered from a door at the other side.
Éowyn was now determined not to allow Arwen's presence to discourage her from doing what she wanted to do this evening; court Aragorn a little. Perhaps, if she were persistent enough, Aragorn would have the wisdom to forsake his Elven lady and seek a life with her. Later, Éowyn would look on such thoughts as foolish, but now she truly believed that Aragorn's love for the beautiful, perfect elf maiden was false.
Éowyn was in luck. Elrond fetched Arwen away from the others to talk to some other Elves; although Éowyn was less pleased by the gentle kiss Aragorn gave his love before she went.
Meanwhile, Elrond glanced over his daughter as she led her towards Legolas and Lindir. He had to admit that the dress suited her, but he did not approve of his only daughter dressing like a mortal. Lending the dress was a kind deed, but Elrond did not think it was necessary for them to also braid and dress Arwen's hair in a mortal style. He mentioned as much to Arwen.
"Ada! Are you not pleased that they welcome and accept me?"
"You need no acceptance. You have many friends among your own kin."
"What if I choose to become mortal, father?"
"You will not do that until… and if… Aragorn becomes king. Until then, I would appreciate it if you did not have so much to do with them"
Meanwhile, Éowyn crossed the hall to where Aragorn and his kin were talking. Éowyn had decided that the easiest thing to do was to speak to Rochwen first; she had been telling Rochwen all about the many horses she had ridden earlier in the day, and knew the child wished to learn more.
"Greetings, Rochwen," she said when she came up to them. "I was wondering if I may speak more to you, and there is also a lovely new foal in the stables that you could see tomorrow if you are interested."
"If I'm interested!" Rochwen squealed. "That would be brilliant. Is it a filly or a colt? What colour? Who are its parents?"
"Living up to your name, I see," Aragorn said to his cousin.
"Excuse me?" Éowyn asked, a little confused.
Miriel answered her. "Rochwen means 'horse maiden', in Elvish. See, Roch is horse, which is possibly where words Rohan and Rohirrim come from."
"And wen is maiden?"
"Precisely."
"So Arwen means something maiden. What's 'Ar'?" Éowyn asked, smiling sweetly at Aragorn.
Aragorn groaned inside. He did not want to speak with Éowyn when she was in this mood. "Royal or noble," he said reluctantly.
"Does Aragorn come from that, as well?"
"Yes."
"How is Arwen royal?"
"She is descended from Earendil through Elrond."
Éowyn thought hard, sifting through what she knew of Numenorean history, which would have been almost nothing if it hadn't been for Rochwen's lecture earlier on. Rochwen had an obsession with the history of her people, in particular her Numenorean descent.
"So, you're related to her?" Éowyn asked Aragorn, with a slight hint of disapproval.
"The- the relation is very distant…" Aragorn stammered. He shot a look at Rochwen, trying to tell her with his eyes that he would appreciate her moving the conversation to safer grounds. He and his cousin were so close that they were usually able to understand one another without the need for words, provided they could make eye contact.
"You didn't answer about the foal," Rochwen said.
"She's a chestnut filly with a beautiful flaxen mane. I do not know who her parents were."
"Oooh, so cute!" Rochwen exclaimed. She then went on to vent much of her love of new foals and all the ones she had seen in a high-pitched, excited voice.
Aragorn rolled his eyes at Miriel. He was laughing too much at his cousin's excitement that he did not notice Éowyn moving closer, until she stood so near that they were almost touching. Aragorn shot a glance at her and moved discreetly away.
"When can I see the little filly? What are you calling her?" Rochwen said, hoping to stop Éowyn's unwanted attention towards her cousin. She liked the Rohirric lady a lot, but that didn't mean Rochwen wanted her as a cousin-in-law. Not that that would ever happen, Aragorn loved Arwen far too much to ever be satisfied by another.
It worked. Éowyn stopped sidling closer, contenting herself with flashing a smile at Aragorn.
"You may see her tomorrow. As for her name, she does not have one yet. Would you like to name her?"
"Yes please! So long as King Théoden approves."
"He will, child."
At that moment, Arwen returned, having managed to get away from her father. Aragorn had to consciously stop himself from breathing a loud sigh of relief. He slipped an arm around her waist, smiling at her.
"Greetings, Lady Éowyn," Arwen said, as courteously as she could manage having observed Éowyn's actions toward Aragorn from a distance.
"Lady Arwen," Éowyn replied shortly.
Arwen attempted to strike up a conversation. "I like that dress," she said truthfully, indicating the pale grass green Rohirric gown that Éowyn wore. "It suits you very well."
"Thank you," Éowyn muttered grudgingly, returning no comment on Arwen's dress or hairstyle.
Aragorn looked pained. He did not want Éowyn to be unhappy, but he did not approve of the way she was treating Arwen. Aragorn thought she could try and be a little friendlier, since Arwen was going out of her way to be kind to Éowyn. But he knew that saying anything would undoubtedly make the situation worse.
"There's a new filly in the stables, Arwen. Lady Éowyn says she is a chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. Don't you think she sounds so sweet?" Rochwen said, in her most childishly innocent voice.
Normally, it annoyed Aragorn greatly when Rochwen turned on that tone and that look, as it usually meant she was anything but innocent! She usually used it when attempting to convince an angered adult that she had nothing to do with whatever trick had been played on some poor man or elf. These tricks usually tended to be played against an elf in Rivendell, and Aragorn sometimes suspected Elladan and Elrohir of having perhaps stirred things a little!
Now, however, he was grateful that his cousin was trying to break the ice.
"Very nice, Rochwen," Arwen said. "I'm sure she's very beautiful."
"I haven't seen her yet, but I bet she will be! Will you come with me to see her?"
Before Arwen could reply, Éowyn cut in. "I'm sorry, child, but the Lady Arwen will most likely be busy with other matters. I shall take you myself," Éowyn said in a cold tone.
"What 'other matters'?" Aragorn asked, his voice calm but with a slight hint of anger. "I believe it is Arwen's choice."
"Mares and foals do not wish to be crowded. I will take only Rochwen because she is a child fascinated by horses and it should be a rare treat for her. There is no reason at all for Arwen to come."
Just as Aragorn was about to come to his beloved's defence, they were called to take their seats for the traditional toast to the dead. Éowyn left by a side door; she would carry Théoden a cup of wine to begin the toast with.
Éowyn bowed before her king, forcing a smile as she handed him the cup, but truly she was burning inside. How dare Arwen try and intrude on Rochwen's 'treat'! Who did she think she was?
Éowyn wanted to gain the trust and liking of Rochwen because she knew that Aragorn loved his cousin, and Éowyn hoped to use the girl to, as she put it, 'turn Aragorn's heart to the correct path.' Again, later she would hate herself for such thoughts, realising how cruel it was of her to try and separate Aragorn and Arwen. But now, she thought she was doing the right thing for both herself and for him. He had clouded her judgement until all she thought about was how to make him hers.
She only faintly heard the cry of "Hail!" answering Théoden's speech, for she was too buried in her thoughts. Then the feast truly began.
Aragorn felt blissful as he sat beside Arwen, sharing the food on the table with her and his kin, as well as Legolas and Gimli. The only things worrying him were Éowyn's feelings and Arwen's impending departure. But tonight, he vowed not to let such things bother him.
He looked up from his plate to meet Arwen's eyes staring at him.
"Am I that fascinating, meleth nin?" He asked Arwen, smiling as he saw a pink tinge creeping up her cheeks.
"To me, you are," Arwen said. Her tone darkened slightly then. "And to a certain other woman I could name."
"Arwen…" Aragorn began, worried by her slightly hurt tone. "I would never…"
Arwen smiled tenderly and stroked his cheek. "I know that, meleth. I am not angry with you, and I am not even angry with her for thinking she loves you. What angers me is her treatment of me; she may be jealous, but I was hoping she could be a little more civil and that we may be able to strike up some sort of a friendship."
"Don't give up on her," Aragorn said urgently. "You may yet find a friend in her, and it is at the very least correct for you to stay polite to her, since you are the one who I love, and so have no reason to feel bitter towards Éowyn."
"Aragorn, shush. I will not 'give up' on Éowyn, as you put it, and I certainly shall never behave towards her with discourtesy. You should know that I am not like that."
"Well, I've never seen you in this situation before, meleth. I was uncertain how you would react, but I should have more faith in you. Forgive me for doubting you."
"There's nothing to forgive, Estel. Let us not spend our time together speaking of Éowyn."
"You started it, my love," Aragorn said with a slight smile. "But I must admit I shall not protest about leaving the subject."
They continued to feast for a little while longer, but after not much more time they were asked to stand as the tables were moved to the edge of the hall to make a dance floor in the centre.
"I hope I remember at least some of the dances," Aragorn said with a smile as the music began to play.
PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW! I really want to know what you thought, as it would help me with the fic. Also, if you have any ideas for another fic I could write, especially using the OC's I've created in this (the Rangers), please tell me. I'm almost finished wityh this one now, and I'm looking to start the next!