Her Weaving

Birthday drabble for Branwyn, who requested the weaving of cloth, spiderwebs, or intrigue. Anyone who knows me knows which one I'd pick. ;D

It is intricate, and beautiful; slender strands woven into a pattern only her foremothers knew, and they have handed it down to her.
She touches it, and she is satisfied. It is perfect for the purpose it serves, and she knows she could scarce have woven better. It hangs down from the ceiling like a magnificent tapestry, splendid in its sameness, in the prevalence of an underlying motif.
She is proud of her work – and this is why she is so angry, a little later, when the small one who is not a man ruins it with his accursed Elven-blade.