Chapter 18: What to Wear to the Banquet

Lenmana studied her hand, looking at her fingernails. They had grown longer than she had ever recalled having them. The harshness of her existence always wore them down to her fingertips. Lotórie was busily shaping away the nails on Lenmana’s other hand. It seemed, to Lenmana that many females amongst the leaf people chose to wear their nails longer than she liked, caring for them by keeping them clean and well shaped.

“Look at how beautiful they look now,” Lotórie proudly announced, sure of her handiwork.

Lenmana glanced down at her hands and noted that her hands looked much more delicate and feminine with her nails cleaned and shaped. “Thank you little leaf, your craft with nails is admirable. You will have to teach me how to do this myself as I did not pay close attention while you worked on them.”

Lenmana noted that her hands were softer and smoother than they had ever been. She wondered if it was the thick cream she used here or the fact that she did not perform much manual labor. She decided it was probably a combination of both. Much of her faired for the better. Her long hair was more vital and easier to brush through, and she had not felt the tinge of hunger in her stomach.

Lotórie was looking at the dress Lenmana had laid out on her bed, and asked with disapproval obvious in her voice, “Is this what you are going to wear?”

“Yes,” Lenmana replied, and noting the disappointment in Lotórie’s voice, asked, “What is wrong with my clothing?”

Lotórie, realizing her slip in manners, quickly responded, “I was hoping you would be wearing an elven dress.”

“I see little leaf, and I would love to dress myself in the manner of your maidens, but I prefer to wear what I am most comfortable in as I fear that I might be going into an uncomfortable situation.”

“Fear not, Lenmana, it will be a grand time. You will see,” Lotórie exclaimed excitedly. “Do all people from your lands wear such clothes?”

Lenmana paused for a second, thinking of how to best answer Lotórie’s question. With an answer in mind she replied, “No, this is a dress style common to my mother’s people, the Hopi. If I were to dress myself according to the fashions of my father’s people, the Dine, I would be wearing something different.”

Lotórie’s curiosity was peaked, “Your mother and father were from different peoples. What do you mean by that?”

Lenmana again paused, searching for an answer that would help the little elfling understand. She remembered that many times, she had been asked if she was Haradrim, or if she was from Laketown, and that it was obvious she was not a from Rohan. It had been explained to her that all these were different nations. With this information she attempted to answer Lotórie’s question, “If I am gathering the knowledge that some have shared with me concerning folk that are more akin to me than the leaf people, then I would have to say that the Hopi are like the people known as Gondor, and the Dine, are like the famed horsemen of Rohan, speaking different tongues, telling different stories.”

“I see,” Lotórie’s eyes lit up with understanding.

Lenmana was pleased that she had been able to answer Lotórie’s question, but she was more pleased with the fact that she had been able to draw upon some of the stories she learned in her stay with the leaf people. But there was still much she did not understand about the leaf people, and from what she heard of these other lands, there was something that was quite distinct about the leaf people that was beyond the physical. Try as hard as she might, Lenmana was still at a loss in reconjuring these stories that she knew had been spun for her.

There was a slight knock at the door and Lotórie went over to see who it was. She greeted the visitors with surprised joy, “Nana, Rainiel, you have come to visit us!”

The two elf maidens laughed, and Istawen asked her daughter if they could enter the room, to which Lotórie obliged. Upon entering they greeted Lenmana as they had become acquainted with her because of Lotórie’s attachment to the mortal maiden. They were dressed in beautiful gowns, made of silk and velvet, embroidered with exquisite threading.

Lenmana expressed her admiration for the clothing, “Your gowns are beautiful-you both look like blooming flowers!”

Rainiel laughed, “If only my husband had greeted me with such flattery this evening. A most gracious thank you for your words.”

“Agreed,” Istawen added, “and we hoped to dress my dearest daughter, for I am sure she would want to be the prettiest of little flowers tonight.”

“Oh, I had forgotten to put on my dress,” Lotórie exclaimed. She then ran over to her mother and took the dress from her to show it to Lenmana. “Do you not think it is beautiful,” Lotórie excitedly asked, holding it against herself as she twirled around dancing in anticipation for the grand feast.

Lenmana agreed, “But it is time little leaf for you to dress, or you will be late. And I should heed my own words and dress as well.”

Lotórie quickly stripped herself of her day gown and with assistance from her mother, and wrapped herself in the luxuriant velvet of her small gown of deep crimson. A wise choice on her mother’s behalf as the young elleth had a reckoning for spilling all on her clothing and playing in the damp grasses that would stain a gown of lighter color. Such are the decisions mothers of all races must make concerning the likes of little ones.

Lenmana also disrobed and was assisted by Rainiel in dressing. Lenmana was not embarrassed of disrobing in front of other maidens, and the elves did not concern themselves with such matters as well. It was a social taboo missing from the cultural repertoire of these two otherwise different races.

The females fussed over each other and laughed, sharing in the contagious excitement of Lotórie. Their conversations wandered into familiar territory as they discussed the fallibility of the weaker sex. Rainiel and Istawen shared anecdotes concerning their husbands and Lenmana laughed mightily as many were familiar to her. It seemed males, whether mortal or immortal had the tendencies to display their colorful feathers both to demonstrate their bravado and to attract the fairer sex.

Istawen informed the group, “I fear that my dearest husband is up to some mischievous deed this eve. I found him gathered around speaking in hushed tones with Erutunín, Legolas, and Aní. My suspicion would not have been roused were it not for the wickedly mischievous smiles they wore.”

“Was my Adar present,” a visibly concerned Rainiel asked.

“No he was not, and I thank the Valar for that. I fear that he is unawares that the males of his household are plotting something for the banquet,” Istawen replied dryly.

Rainiel’s eyes lit up and a mischievous grin swept across her face, “Then we must be prepared for them, and have our own devices set in place.” Rainiel turned to Lenmana and studied her closely. Lenmana shifted uncomfortably underneath the elf’s intense scrutiny.

“What is your plan Rainiel,” Istawen asked eyes wide with anticipation and curiosity.

“Can I join too,” Lotórie asked excitedly, clapping her little hands in delight.

Rainiel glanced at her niece and answered, deadly intent chilling her words, “Yes loth nín, you can play along too, but you mustn’t let anyone know of our little game.”

Lotórie agreed, and was now jumping in place excitedly, waiting to hear what fun was to be had.

Rainiel then looked over to Lenmana, “You have very beautiful hair, very long, and thick. I have never seen hair so without curl that it falls through fingers like silken water. I believe that your part, Lenmana will be the most important. Tell me, how much have you had a chance to converse with my son and dearest brother?”

Lenmana’s eyes narrowed in guilty delight, “Not much, and of great interest to you may be the fact that neither of them think I can understand your tongue, even less speak it.”

Istawen giggled with anticipation, “Oh Rainiel, you are devious. I know *exactly* what you plan to do, but tell me how are we going to involve our husbands.”

“Do not worry, it is all up here,” Rainiel replied, tapping her forehead with her forefinger. “This night shall be for the maidens. Too long have those bothersome elven males enjoyed their pompous attitudes,” Rainiel purred knowingly.

Lenmana wondered just how long that was.

Rainiel catching her thoughts, answered, “Too long dearest Lenmana, too long.”

The group laughed together, sharing a sisterhood of knowledge concerning the frustrating opposite sex, and continued in their primping and preparations for the night.

***

Istawen looked over Lenmana’s hair, “You will certainly stand out this evening, for it is not our custom to wear our hair in such a manner. It is different but very beautiful.”

Lenmana looked over her clothing which was a combination of ancient Hopi dress and adapted European style clothing. With Lenmana’s help, an elven seamstress had been able to recreate the simple wrap dress and shawl. Lenmana had actually done her fair share of sewing as she was intimately knowledgeable of the art. Where she was from they had no seamstresses and had to learn from a very early age how to sew and maintain clothing and shoes. When working on the clothing she had had no idea she would wear it to such a large event. It was Mithrandir who initially suggested she keep herself busy during her healing time and make clothes that would be comfortable for her.

Lenmana’s hair was done up in the traditional Hopi way, in two whorls, which were worn only by unmarried maidens. It had taken Rainiel and Istawen’s dexterous and creative hands to help with what was to them an unknown hairstyle, but Lenmana was pleased with the outcome. As she contemplated herself, she felt a tinge of longing, longing for her family, her clan, her lands. At least tonight she brought a little of it to this middle earth.

Her manner of dress was simple. Her dress was made of thick, woven cotton which was a dark brown in color, and wrapped around her body, extending up over her left shoulder into a thick strap, leaving the other shoulder bare. Adorning the side of the dress were ivory colored sea shells that ran down the side serving as decorative buttons. Sea shells were a rarity in her lands, and valued greatly. In Mirkwood, sea shells were also greatly valued but were more abundant.

High around her waist was wrapped a striped cloth belt, woven of cotton dyed in different hues, the ends of which were tucked neatly into the belted cloth. Under the earth toned dress, she wore a white, light cotton skirt which peaked out from under the dress.

Her knee high boots were made out of leather which was beat and worked until it was white. Finally, she wore a shawl of the same material as her dress that had two large stripes of white and brown running across it, the brown area being complemented with thin white stripes.

All in all, it was a very simple outfit, and she had a single beaded necklace to complement her attire. It had not crossed her mind to dress in the elaborate gowns that the elven maidens wore. In her time in Mirkwood, she had chosen to wear simple cotton skirts and tunics with an accompanying shawl. She felt more comfortable in familiar clothes.

But the laughter of the Lotórie softly infiltrated the sadness that was beginning to build itself up around her, and Lenmana smiled, thankful for the gift of children, always the most sacred and blessed possession of one and all alike.

The sound of bells that seemed to reverberate in a shimmer danced their way across the elven kingdom, announcing to all that the feast was commencing. The elven and mortal maidens departed to the outdoor clearing where the banquet was being held. Thranduil always celebrated the return of his kin from the dangers of patrols, and he chose to share it with his peoples as he knew they too shared in their thanks to the Valar that their sons and daughters had once again returned unharmed from the dangers that dwelt all too close.

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