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Wordcount  by Alawa

Arwen and Gilraen spend a little time together.

The bridal belt

Arwen came and I knew I would move on, but before the time was right we worked together, spun and wove the wool, dyed it to midsummer midnight with rarest haradric blue, my son's treasured gift.

Then we sat and sewed. Quietly I stitched a corner then laughed aloud as, all along the girdle, the mithril stars come dancing to meet me like Varda's Road.

When it was done we cried, tenderly folded our work and stored it, hopeful, away. She said at the last, "please stay," but smiled through her tears as I gave her the kiss of farewell.

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