A Night For Dancing
A Night For Dancing
by Elelome

Arwen lifted her long skirt to step carefully over a dead log. This marked the boundary of Rivendell's north side; people came here who wished for most quiet, or conversely, who did not wish to be seen.

Now she was free! Free for a few moments, to escape the chains of hostess and mistress of the house. Here she could sing and dance, and laugh aloud to her heart's content.

But tonight was a night for dancing. For a moment she wished for a flutist, like Luthien's Daeron, but dismissed that idea as impossible -- her father did not really approve of her midnight dances.

Arwen hurried through the woods, searching for her glade.

And she leapt out into the middle of the circle, feet flying in sure custom, taught every step by her laughing mother. The moon was her only observer, the stars winked at her as if to say, "I'll keep your secret."

Laughing hours went by this way. At last Arwen collapsed to the ground, still smiling.