Chapter IV: Getting 'Pretty'

The two elves walked dejectedly back to their quarters. A female servant awaited Celebdraug in front of her door.

"I am Deorwine, I will be assisting you in your preparations for the feast tonight," she said.

Mordae laughed, "I pity thee."

Celebdraug slapped his shoulder. "Go to thy room, thou blithering fool."

Deorwine laughed as well, "Come, my lady."

Once the two women were in the room, Deorwine danced over to the huge closet and flung open its doors. Celebdraug groaned and fell back onto the soft bed in the center of the room. She could hear Deorwine rifling through the hundreds of dresses in the massive closet.

"I'm not wearing one of those cursed dresses," she called to Deorwine, "I hate those damned things."

Deorwine came twirling from the closet. ""What? You are more beautiful than any other woman I have ever seen. Why would you want to mask that?"

Celebdraug jerked up quickly, "Do not call me beautiful."

"What? Why?" Deorwine said, confused.

Anger flashed in Celebdraug's eyes. "A long time ago, things happened, people died, and I don't like talking about it. Happy?" Her eyes flashed a burning red; the flames making them glow ominously.

Deorwine looked down. "Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to intrude."

Celebdraug sighed, her anger fading. "Tis all right. Now, what did thou want me to wear?"

"Try these," she said, flinging the dresses in her arms at Celebdraug, who sighed and began sorting through the dresses Deorwine had chosen for her, muttering to herself as she did so.

Deorwine smiled, "Good girl," she said in a singsong voice as she turned back to the closet.

Celebdraug narrowed her eyes, grabbed a hairbrush from the bedside table and hurled it like a throwing knife through the open closet doors. She heard it rip past some dresses, and then strike something more solid.

"Hey!" Deorwine cried, "You little..."

Celebdraug smiled mischievously and went back to sorting the dresses.

Mordae sat down on his bed after exploring his room, satisfied. "Not bad," he said to himself.

The room was warm and decorated tranquilly. A few paintings hung on the walls, and in the corner stood two suits of armor, relics from the Third Age.

His eyes lit up at the sight of what the suits held; both wielded spears, with short-swords on their waists. He stood and walked swiftly across the room to them. Prying one of the spears from the glove and feeling the tip, Mordae noticed with pleasure that it was still sharp. With a small pull, he removed one of the swords and examined it as well with the same result. He smiled; these would come in useful tonight.

Standing, he moved to the closet. "Okay, what do we have?"

Just before the sunset, there was a knock at Celebdraug's door. She moved warily to answer it. "Who comes?" she asked.

Mordae's voice responded, "Are thou decent?"

Deorwine called from her seat at the mirror, "Your dear cousin hasn't been decent all day. She's rather rude, you know."

She grinned innocently at Celebdraug, who stuck her tongue out at her. "Let him in," Deorwine said.

"Why? Who wants to talk to him?"

Deorwine sighed as she rose and walked for toward the door, "So immature. Must I do everything for you?"

Mordae tapped his foot impatiently outside his cousin's door. He had chosen a black, slightly collared shirt, black pants, and a black cape with a blood red inside. It had taken him all of a half an hour to prepare. He shook his head; he would never understand why it took women forever to get ready for events.

"Celebdraug, you look like...Thurang1 !" Mordae staggered back, his head throbbing where he had hit the top of the door.

"Why thank you, you look nice too," Celebdraug answered with a wry smile, adding "Isilduro.2"

Mordae shook his head, trying to clear it. Finally, the throbbing subsided, "Ready?" he asked Celebdraug.

She stepped to Mordae's side, dressed in black pants and cloak, along with a fire-red blouse with long, loose sleeves. Her hair was anything but elegant; it was pulled back in a fashion that would serve better in the middle of battle than at a formal affair. A long red scarf of the same color as her shirt was tied around her forehead. The whole effect served to make her look rather barbaric.

"I tried to make her wear a dress, I tried to do her hair, but she just wouldn't listen to me. She kept running away." Deorwine pouted.

Mordae smiled, "Thou art lucky that is all she did."

He offered his arm to Celebdraug, who turned up her nose and stomped down the hall, "I don't need you. And besides, you'll probably end up walking into a wall or something."

1 Elvish curse word

2 Klutz