[Amanaduial the archer]

The cloaked figure reigned as she drew close to the party, pulling back her black steed, her eyes flashing. Seeing the huge crowd around the party, she strove to find a more low key entrance, her dark eyes flicking over the Hall. Another horsebacked figure moved his mount over beside her.

"Aman? We going in?" He inquired, his teeth white as he grinned. The female rider glanced across at him and lowered her riding hood, revealing a slim, unlined face framed by an elaborately done mass of hair. However, said slim, unlined face revealed more than a little panic.

"Ehm...the crowd is a little..." She struggled for words for the first time.

"Oh, Aman, what is it? Is it me? You dont want to be seen with me?!" Anuion's voice took on a note of mock panic, and Aman arched an eyebrow, before leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. Anuion blushed, but then sighed, a tad sulkily. "You didnt even want to ride in in my arms-" He stopped at a look from his partner, and mimed zipping his mouth closed.

"Thankyou." She looked critically down at the Hall, which was decked out elegantly and eleborately decked out, looking splendid. Well, Mith really has outdone himself this time... she thought, with the smile that always appeared when she thought of cool, calm Mithadan trying to organise an event as huge as this without getting stressed. Still, he would have handled it better than some. Pulling of her riding cloak and stuffing it in a bag, she revealed her outfit underneath; a light, figure hugging, but still moderately practical dress, the blouse-like neck of which sloped down quite low, but not ridiculously so, the collar only around the sides and back of her neck, rising slightly to sit against it. The dress was dove grey, with a black, Elizabethan style waist band, and sloping sleeves, falling about a foot down and sliding up at a slope, and around her pale neck she wore a linked silver necklace, with a small jet raven, wings outspread and no more than a centimetre square altogether on the end. She smoothed up the white collar of her dress- the only reason the young elven woman would ever ride side saddle- and braced herself. Then, turning to Anuion, also well decked out, for she had insisted he was smarter than usual, she grinned.

"Alright- lets get this show on the road!"

They rode at a smooth canter to the Hall, breaking so as not to crush any of the small hobbits under the horses hooves, and Aman smoothly dismounted. The cameras flashed and the *musical* strains of 'Get this Party Started' (Ah well, nothings perfect, Aman conceded silently) and Anuion raised his hand, letting Aman's rest on it gently in the style of the Elizabethan court. She pressed gently on his fingers three times with her slim ones. One, two, three.. and he bowed and she curtsied lightly.

Aman took another deep breath, let a smooth grin slide onto her lips, hoping she didnt look as nervous as she felt, and, with Anuion, the elf walked up the red carpet to the Hall...