[alaklondewen]

The palace buzzed with excitement as the banquet preparations neared their completion. Deep blue eyes watched intently as the servants busily dashed around the small tables that filled the grand banqueting hall, setting out fine dishes and arranging elaborate centerpieces. Every detail would be perfect before the guests arrived. The aromas of freshly baked breads and sweet sauces from the kitchens slowly filled the hall and mingled with the fresh fragrances of the scrubbed and finely dressed ladies of Queen Bekah’s entourage. The hushed voices of the young women twittered with expectations and new gossip.

Draped in fine silks of deep turquoise with gold embroidery lining the hems, Arlomë silently stood, isolating herself from the mortal misses. She stood out greatly from the others. Her skin was milky instead of darkened from the sun, and she stood a full head above most of retinue. The elf cared little for the young women and did not share their utter excitement for the festivity. This was not her first banquet in the presence of the king and queen, nor would it be her last. The mortals found such immense pleasure from such trivial things. Turning her mind from their mindless chatter, Arlomë wondered about her husband and his whereabouts. Actually Elrigon had been heavily on her mind since she laid eyes on the strange men from the West. The couple had only seen one another briefly before they returned to the palace grounds, and Arlomë had not had time to probe his mind about the Emissary. During his arrival, the elf woman had peered silently through the curtains from her place behind the queen and wondered at the meaning of this man’s motives and what the ramifications would be to the kingdom. Elrigon would better know about these matters, and he would put her mind to ease as he always did.

The final minutiae were in order, and Arlomë gave her nod of approval to the chefs. They had done well with the little time they were given. The elf then, after a sidelong glance at the still chattering ladies, took her leave from the hall to find her beloved.

Slipping through a small side door, Arlomë entered a narrow hallway that ran the length of the banquet hall and met with one of the smaller entrance rooms on the east end of the palace. Rich chestnut carpeting accented the great mural of the desert landscape and its red tipped mountains that filled the left wall. On the right, intricate tapestries hung that delicately depicted the daily activities of the Pastian citizens. One displayed three average, yet beautiful, women filling their water basins, while another showed a strong lad caring for his steed. Arlomë slowed her pace as she neared the entrance hall. A small empty room lay to her right, and she slipped through its small door. The room was darkened with the setting of the sun, and the elf caught her reflection in the great window the occupied the far wall. Stepping closer, Arlomë studied her appearance. The gold of the stacked bangles that hung at her wrists glittered from the light that filter into the room from the hallway. Her eyes, lined with blackened kohl, had seen millennia of cares, and yet still looked youthful when they sparked with interest. Her long arms gracefully untied and than retied the turquoise scarf tightly around her raven hair. Once satisfied she nodded to her reflection and spun on her heel to reentered the narrow hallway and make her way to the entrance hall.

Before directly stepping into the hall, she paused and glanced around the corner. To her surprise a solitary figure stood alone in the vastness of the king’s hall. His form and stature was as familiar to her as her own. A small smile spread across the elf’s face, and she crept silently toward his back. He made no movement that expressed any knowledge of her presence, so she took even more care to approach unnoticed. Slowly, carefully, her fingers reached...oh so silently, toward the General’s back...