HOW DARE HE! Alcalatawen thought to herself, pacing her room. How DARE he
flirt with her so shamelessly, even through the withering glares she gave
him. He had no right to do this to her, especially in front of Dimcoire,
her fiancé! That fiendish commander of the soldiers, Nuinmellon, would be
her end. She could feel it. Him and his bright eyes, long hair, and
charming words. He could rot for all Alcalatawen cared. Sitting down on a
chair, her pale blue gown fluttering about her, Alcalatawen sighed. The
stupid prick would have to wait for now. With her wedding in three days,
she didn't have time for that fiend. She closed her eyes, leaning back into
the plush comfort of the chair. What she wouldn't give for a few moments of
sleep. However, this sleep was not to be. Just as soon as she felt ready to
drift off, Alcalatawen's mother and her cronies burst in, armed with
fabrics, ribbons, and flowers.
"Alright dear, we've put this off for far too long. It's time to get the dress made." Her mother said.
"Mother-"
"I'm not interested in excuses, right now we have to get this done. Alkcolloien, get the measurements. Imbelótëiel, start cutting the fabric. Sindaannawen, prepare the flower crown!" THE women set to work, while Alacaltawen stood there awkwardly, being poke and prodded, measured and stuck. The process seemed to go on forever. However, a knock at the door offered some respite. Alcalatawen breathed a sigh of relief as her mother answered the door.
"Dimcoire, come in!" Alcalatawen called out, seeing a familiar flash of blue eyes.
"It is not Dimcoire here, my lady." The figure at the door said, stepping in. It was that fiend, Nuinmellon. He wore a silky smile, as well as navy robes. Alcalatawen had to fight to resist the urge to spit at him.
"If it pleases the lady, I wish to speak with her alone." Nuinmellon said smoothly.
"Whatever you have to say to me, Nuinmellon, you can say in front of my mother and her friends."
"Actually, dear, we can leave." Alcalatawen's mother said, rising to leave.
"I'd prefer it if you were here." She said, flashing a quick imploring look towards her mother. With a nearly undetectable nod, her mother sat down again, setting herself to sewing some pieces of fabric together. Alcalatawen could have sworn that Nuinmellon's eyes flashed dangerously as she spoke, though she wasn't completely sure.
"Well, Prince, what is it you have to say to me?" Alcalatawen said, mimicking the smoothness in Nuinmellon's voice. It was at this moment that another knock at the door sounded. One of the cronies jumped up to answer, letting in another elf. He was slightly shorter than Nuinmellon, and had the same bright blue eyes. However, his eyes were kind, not searching and analyzing like the fiendish Commanders.
"Dimcoire!" Alcalatawen said happily, running towards him. They embraced happily, exchanging a warm kiss.
"I missed you." He said, smiling.
"I missed you more." She grinned. Dimcoire looked up from his beloved's face, and saw Nuinmellon in the room. His whole demeanor changed.
"Commander, if I may be so bold as to ask why you are here in my fiancées chambers?"
"Simply to bring my best wishes for the both of you. Now if you will excuse me. I have other matters to attend to." Nuinmellon said curtly, exiting the room.
"What was that?" Dimcoire asked Alcalatawen, relaxing.
"I really couldn't say. He's been flirting with me for the longest time."
"I know." He replied with chagrin.
"I hope that he'll drop this once we are married." She said, sighing.
"I do as well. For now, however, there is nothing we can do-he's the commander of the soldiers of Mirkwood, and I am simply a soldier." He responded, pulling Alcalatawen in close.
"Alright dear, we've put this off for far too long. It's time to get the dress made." Her mother said.
"Mother-"
"I'm not interested in excuses, right now we have to get this done. Alkcolloien, get the measurements. Imbelótëiel, start cutting the fabric. Sindaannawen, prepare the flower crown!" THE women set to work, while Alacaltawen stood there awkwardly, being poke and prodded, measured and stuck. The process seemed to go on forever. However, a knock at the door offered some respite. Alcalatawen breathed a sigh of relief as her mother answered the door.
"Dimcoire, come in!" Alcalatawen called out, seeing a familiar flash of blue eyes.
"It is not Dimcoire here, my lady." The figure at the door said, stepping in. It was that fiend, Nuinmellon. He wore a silky smile, as well as navy robes. Alcalatawen had to fight to resist the urge to spit at him.
"If it pleases the lady, I wish to speak with her alone." Nuinmellon said smoothly.
"Whatever you have to say to me, Nuinmellon, you can say in front of my mother and her friends."
"Actually, dear, we can leave." Alcalatawen's mother said, rising to leave.
"I'd prefer it if you were here." She said, flashing a quick imploring look towards her mother. With a nearly undetectable nod, her mother sat down again, setting herself to sewing some pieces of fabric together. Alcalatawen could have sworn that Nuinmellon's eyes flashed dangerously as she spoke, though she wasn't completely sure.
"Well, Prince, what is it you have to say to me?" Alcalatawen said, mimicking the smoothness in Nuinmellon's voice. It was at this moment that another knock at the door sounded. One of the cronies jumped up to answer, letting in another elf. He was slightly shorter than Nuinmellon, and had the same bright blue eyes. However, his eyes were kind, not searching and analyzing like the fiendish Commanders.
"Dimcoire!" Alcalatawen said happily, running towards him. They embraced happily, exchanging a warm kiss.
"I missed you." He said, smiling.
"I missed you more." She grinned. Dimcoire looked up from his beloved's face, and saw Nuinmellon in the room. His whole demeanor changed.
"Commander, if I may be so bold as to ask why you are here in my fiancées chambers?"
"Simply to bring my best wishes for the both of you. Now if you will excuse me. I have other matters to attend to." Nuinmellon said curtly, exiting the room.
"What was that?" Dimcoire asked Alcalatawen, relaxing.
"I really couldn't say. He's been flirting with me for the longest time."
"I know." He replied with chagrin.
"I hope that he'll drop this once we are married." She said, sighing.
"I do as well. For now, however, there is nothing we can do-he's the commander of the soldiers of Mirkwood, and I am simply a soldier." He responded, pulling Alcalatawen in close.