Not long. Not long now.
"They look beautiful, mellon nîn," Erestor said, a small, delicate smile moving over his lips. The elven seamstress looked up, gentle crystal hues turned up towards the councillor, hopeful for approval.
"So, this does mean they're what you're looking for?" she asked, Erestor answering with a curt nod. His long fingers slid over the fabric presented to him, a long, elegant gown with very careful embroidery stitched upwards in soft, curved patterns. Of course such a thing wasn't to be worn during a spar or fishing, no, these were special, especially to the councillor.
"They're perfect… truly perfect" he said softly, almost a whisper. Although his face stayed stern, his darkened hues lit up slightly with excitement. A marriage. A long awaited marriage. He swallowed firmly as he looked the robe, the seamstress then placing a long cloak on top, nodding to him.
Looking at the cloak for a moment, she then parted her lips to speak. "Thank you. You'll look very handsome, if it's not too bold for me to say so brannon nîn," she said, giving a small curtsy, bowing her head.
The elder elf held up his hand briefly, shaking his head. "Spare the formalities, at least for now," he stated firmly. "Although I would not say it is too bold now, I'm not quite sure as to what Lady Arwen would have to say on the matter." Lady Arwen… such a beautiful elf. She was strong, powerful, a fine upstanding lady that did it all with elegance and grace. The councillor felt as if he could sigh at the thought of her, his heart already quickening. How could it be that simply the thought of someone could take his breath away in such a manner? It didn't seem to make an ounce of sense to him, even though he was the one feeling such things.
A light voice quickly snapped him out of his daze. "I spoke with the artisan," the seamstress said softly. "He said that your headdress is in your quarters, he wishes for you to try it and tell him if it meets your approval or not." Bringing the robes to his chest, Erestor nodded to her.
"Once again, mellon nîn, I can't thank you enough for your kindness," he said, bowing slightly to show respect for the lady before backing out the door, nodding again. "Now, we wait. I Melain berio le."Turning on his heel, he started to march towards his room, his stride becoming increasingly eager. His dark hues scanned from side to side briefly to check for any cheeky elflings before he plucked up the courage to skip a couple of times, then returning back to his brisk walk. How could he help himself? Thoughts were dashing in his mind. Of course, it had been a thought plaguing his mind for a long time: making Lady Arwen his. He never imagined Elrond would actually agree to arrange a marriage between the two, however if one doesn't ask, one doesn't get. Turning a corner, he clocked his eyes on that one elf who meant the world, the moon and the stars to him.
A small smile twitched at his mouth, soft lips parting to speak, only to be cut off by the sight set in front of him. Elrond with his hand upon his daughter's shoulder, a human stood in front of her. Not any human, but a well built man looking a bit rough around the edges in Erestor's opinion, then again most men did. Estel. "Although I approve…" the eldest elf spoke, looking sternly at his daughter. "You must make sure this is what you really want. I do not want you to make a mistake it is impossible to go back on. However if your heart is true, and this is the one you wish to marry then… my hands are tied." A sluggish, heavy rock slowly sank down Erestor's gullet and into the pit of his stomach, frozen into position. He cleared his throat, the attention of the Lord switch onto him.
"Have you set out to make me a fool? Or was this a folly based on dire timing?" the councillor asked, Elrond frowning to him. Returning the foul glance with one of his own, the younger elf clenched his fist.
"Certainly not, I myself have just found…" he started before his voice trailed off, the younger elf shaking his head.
"Now, Erestor- I hope you didn't honestly believe I would-" Arwen started before the younger held up his hand, signalling for her to keep quiet.
"I do not wish to converse upon this matter further. Mára mesta." Erestor quickly moved back from the doorframe leading where the two elves and human were situated. He turned away, making his destination his chamber, and fast.
How could he have been such a fool? The day was going so wonderfully, only to have the Valar frown upon his recently acquired happiness. Arwen. Lady Arwen. As he walked faster, her words echoed through his head. Of course, how could he think she would possibly want to marry the likes of him? He had held back before, almost determined not to let his emotions show through. It was weak, a sign of weakness. He had just been crushed but that was no excuse to let silly things like tears get in the way of the situation; especially not in front of the Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond. It was completely unheard of. But now he was alone, and with teeth grit in a vain attempt to bite back his signs of emotion, two tears ran down either side of his cheek, then another, and another, until they started to flow steadily like the river. Finding no use for them any longer, he lifted up his bridegroom robes, using them to dry his tears. The last thing he needed was to bump into another elf and have them find him in this state. He wouldn't let himself be seen as weak. Approaching his chamber, he turned the handle, making a large stride forwards into his quarters, the door loudly shutting behind him.
An elegant, mithril headdress sat on his desk.