# 32 Painting
The family of Elrond had been sitting in the family suite for several hours now. Every few years they would all gather and would be seated in a specific order for their family portrait to be painted.
In the back sat Lord Elrond and his wife, the Lady Celebrían.
Elrond decided to dress in deep royal blue robes, with his hair pulled back in an intricate braid––he had decided to forgo his circlet. Next to him sat his wife Celebrían, who dressed in a beautiful light blue dress with darker blues weaved into the sleeves, her long silver hair flowing freely down in a cascade of waves.
Sitting on either side of them were the valiant sons of Elrond and Celebrían: Elladan and his younger twin Elrohir. The two of them dressed in identical garments similar to their father. The only difference was they wore a tunic and leggings and on their brow sat a plain circlet of silver.
Finally, sitting in the front was the young and fair Arwen. She resembled her foremother Lúthien, the fairest being to walk Middle-earth. Her dark raven hair framed her fair face, a small smile upon her lips.
As the family sat still for what seemed like forever, the painter would every so often redirect one of them to move a little to the left or the right or to lift their head up a bit more. Finally, after much grumbling silently to themselves about being hungry, cramps, or stiff backs, the young ellon announced he had finished.
The family got up stiffly from their seats and stretched their arms and legs before all walking over to where the painting was drying to look at it.
"Oh, my goodness, this has to be the best portrait of us yet," Celebrían gasped.
Elrond and the others had to agree. Indeed, this was the best paintings ever.