#9 Tradition

Under her mother's critical gaze the young elleth turned slowly on the spot, trying to contain the urge to jump up and down with excitement, she still could not quite believe that she had been chosen. The silken fabric of the beautiful gown, finished only last eve, flowed elegantly around her legs as she moved and rippled with the verdant greens of new spring growth. Her mother smiled through tears of joy as she finally faced her again, completing the circle and as she opened her arms the elleth joyfully rushed forwards into her embrace.

They clung together for a few precious moments before her mother finally let go pushing her away and smoothing the fabric with muttered tuts and admonishments for risking ruining the garment in the crush but the elleth knew it was a façade only. Pride and joy shone from over bright eyes as hands unnecessarily swept imagined creases away showing the sharp words for the lies they were.

A knock at the door interrupted the mother's flow and with a last gentle tug at her daughter's skirt she crossed the room to enquire whom was without as her daughter moved to the far corner so as to be out of sight if the door opened. It would not do to be seen too soon in her finery. After all, there were a couple of hours yet until she made her formal appearance and the ceremony began. Butterflies began to dance in her stomach again at the thought of what was to come.

There was a muted conversation at the door, which eventually opened just wide enough for a large, square box to be passed through then closed again after a few more words. Eyes fixed upon the item held within her mother's hands the youngster walked slowly back to the centre of the room then raised her quizzical gaze. The voice at the door had sounded very familiar and she had heard that this would happen, yet she could not believe that the prince himself would have played messenger, no matter how important the errand. She reached for the lid of the box and paused, sharing a nervous smile with her equally awed parent, before lifting it with trembling fingers. There, nestled within a cocoon of dried, scented herbs and grasses sat the most wondrous thing she would ever have the privilege to hold, and tonight, under the stars, she would herald the beginnings of the spring equinox festival by placing it upon the head of their beloved king.

A/N

Thanks for all the reviews. They are much appreciated.

As is often the way this little snippet has developed into a full head cannon story in my mind and I rather think I will just have to write it out in full at some point. :/