Sword and Arrow

Chapter 75

"Oh, that's tight," Beruthiel gasped as Eirinel tightened the belt around her waist. "I can't breathe, Eirinel, does it have to be this tight?"

"The dress simply won't look as stunning if the belt is loose," the elf explained, tying the back of the belt in an elaborate bow knot and letting the ends trail with the rest of her gown. "Besides, you only have to stay like this for an hour or two. After that, you can change into the more comfortable dress."

"Yes, I suppose," Beruthiel said. She was almost vibrating with excitement as Eirinel finished the last touches on her dress: a few decorative buttons up the side of her chest, a train of gauzy white fabric pinned to her shoulder so it spilled over her back and down the back of her gown like a cape.

"Now, sit," Eirinel said. "I still need to do your hair."

"I should have cut it, shouldn't I?" Beruthiel asked. She fingered the long ends of her hair, worry immediately setting in. So many things that she should've done that would have made this so much better, so many things she could have fixed.

"Nonsense," the elf said. "It looks perfectly fine the way it is. Sit still, dear." Eirinel pulled up a chair behind Beruthiel and began combing it out. Beruthiel's hair had grown out in the long months of their journey and now hung past her shoulders in silky waves.

"Now," Eirinel said, inspecting her hair, "I can't do a longer style with this - I believe the traditional Gondorian style is a braid?"

"Yes, a braid along the sides of the head," Beruthiel said with a nod. "But it's too short, isn't it? I can barely braid this to keep it out of my face."

"That's no worry," she promised. "I can braid it like we do, back in Mirkwood. Besides, Aragorn is supposed to be an elvish king. It will be the perfect counterpart."

"That's true," Beruthiel admitted. "But I'm not! I'm just a poor ordinary farm girl that got tangled up in this unfortunate business."

Eirinel laughed. Her hands were cool against Beruthiel's head as she combed out the last of the tangles. "It will be fine. You already look beautiful, the hair will just be a finishing touch."

Beruthiel conceded the point and sat still to let Eirinel plait tiny braids back from her forehead, linking them all together in a larger braid at the back of her head and letting the rest of her hair fall loose around her shoulders. It was a style she seen Legolas braid every time.

"It's a traditional warrior's plait," Eirinel said with a wink, handing Beruthiel a small mirror. (It was Eirinel's own mirror - Beruthiel didn't own one yet). "Looks quite becoming on you, don't you think? A warrior's braid for a warrior queen."

Beruthiel flushed. "It looks very beautiful. Thank you so much, Eirinel."

"Nonsense," she said with a wave of her hand. "That's just what friends do."

Beruthiel hadn't really considered Eirinel a friend up until this point - she had just been a benevolent princess to her. Then again, the lines for what made a friend had been rather blurred for the last few years. Things like that tended to happen when you've known most of your friends for decades.

"Now," Beruthiel said, standing up and stretching. "Now we go?"

Eirinel shook a finger at her, holding up a palette of skin-toned powders. "Sit back down."

"No," Beruthiel protested. "No makeup. It looks awful and fake on me and feels too cakey."

Eirinel sighed. "At least let me paint your lips."

Beruthiel sighed, but she let Eirinel paint her lips with a rosy shade that the elf said was made from the flower of a plant that grew only in Mirkwood.