I should like to throw a dinner party!
The party would probably be set in the Laurelin Hall of Tirion, as no lesser chamber would do. So I would have to get special permission from the Valar to allow my mortal guests to stay in the Blessed Realm for a day.
With that done, it’s time to send out invitations. But I forgot! Finrod and Amarië are currently on the shores of the Outer Sea! Who would come?
Of course, your host,
Nilpaurion Felagund, would be there, sitting at the head of the table.
On my left side would be
Lhunardawen, my sister. She would be putting eyeliner on her brother, my cousin, and a good family friend,
Eomer of the Rohirrim.
Across from them would be seated the dear Princess
Kath, discussing Quenya with
the guy who be short, a recently-crowned Prince--ooh, what a coincidence!
Beside them would be seated
NightKnight, who has recently returned to the barrows cold. He would be merrily trading Middle-earth questions with
Firefoot, a fellow Quizzer, who would be seated from across him. Two sharp minds in one place—I’ll never be able to get a thread now.
Suddenly the entire table bursts into laughter, because
Oddwen had told one of her crazy stories about hamsters in Rivendell—or was it rabbits? Enedwaith across from her would be
Meneltarmacil, a fellow
New Movie Script writer, who couldn’t wait for gift-giving time, probably because he has a two-ton rock or some other hurtful thing inside that box. Just try!
Seated at the end of the table would be my grandfather
Finarfin, because we would need a figure of authority to keep this party from turning into something that would wake up the sleeping neighbours. Besides he owes me a lot of presents.
Repast would be a fusion of the Elvish and the Hobbitish, to satisfy both the sublime and the ravenous. Limpë and lembas—grandma Eärwen has this very good recipe for chocolate-flavoured ones--, mushroom and bacon, and lots and lots of fruits and cheeses.