Penelope’s Labors – February 1419

Agile fingers moved with delicate precision over the fabric, needle setting a careful stitch only after intent consideration.  Ebony silk and silver threads lay smooth under her hand, treasured so long for this very purpose, yet now time was so short.  All things hung by a slender thread, finer than a hair, and Arwen gazed a moment towards the dawn before returning to her task, bending her dark head to twist a prayer into every stitch.  From the smallest creature to the uncrowned king who held her heart, she set the bright silver of hope against the sable night.