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Vairë Was a Weaver, or, Real Men Wear Corsets  by Celeritas

Indeed, the nobility of Gondor noticed the diversions as soon as they entered the banquet hall.  Normally the walls of Merethrond were lined with chairs, so that when the tables were taken away for dancing, the guests would have a place to sit.  Perhaps there would be a few tables with wine upon them, but that was all.  By contrast, tonight the dining tables were pushed together in the center, to allow for a large promenade around the perimeter of the room.  There, against the walls, were so many casks of wine and ale that taking even so much as a sip from each would make a full-grown Ranger feel quite merry.

The whole room was aglow with conversation by the time the King and Queen stepped in to explain the change in function.  Aragorn looked entirely recovered from his earlier jaunt through the City, and his wife, in an act of pure diplomacy, seemed to be genuinely unaware that there was anything out of the ordinary at all.

“As some of you may know,” said the King, “the Citadel’s store of spirits was destroyed this morning.  Fortunately, the good inns of the White City have been gracious enough to resupply us, and in order to showcase what they have in store, they have each contributed a barrel of their best item.  To encourage our guests to taste all that these fine establishments have to offer, the Lord Faramir requested this arrangement of the room, so that you may move freely from one sample to the next.  Tonight is designed to be a less formal occasion, and we hope that you will all enjoy the opportunity to relax from the normal strains of the court.”





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