Greenwood The Great

Yield

"Alarya! Could you please stand still?"

Her mother scolded for the fourth time that afternoon, making the reluctant daughter stand straight almost immediately. Truth was, Alarya did not especially enjoy her dress fittings, almost unable to stand perfectly still for so long while maids roamed around her, measuring the length on her new dress. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see her mother eyeing her carefully, occasionally giving the maids a comment or an opinion. Valar, any on looking eye would believe the dress was for her and not for her daughter!

Not that she was complaining. Oh, no. The dress was absolutely stunning. The rich green fabric was the lightest she had ever seen, falling all the way down to the floor in a weightless dance, where the two maids were currently marking the pattern in which tiny white pearls would be sewn. Oh, yes. She would not complain about the dress. But then again, she could not hold back a chuckle as her mother once again threw a look that meant to stand straight and not move.

"Alarya! I will not say it one more time."

Alarya did not answer, simply smiling at her mother apologetically before concentrating once more on standing still. Not that she was not trying to please her mother, she was really trying, but standing still for so long was just so boring. Besides, she knew her mother was especially pushy for other reasons at the moment.

Her mother, Lady Laessel was usually an overly patient and calmed lady, always elegant and of sweet personality. And yet, it seemed that since the moment her mother had learned about her relationship with King Thranduil a month ago, she had been nearly always on the edge, as if she could just not get peace of mind for even a single second.

She did not blame her. Her mother was not the only one that had been on edge lately. Her father had been overly thoughtful the past month, less talkative than usual. He had not been angry or opposed to her seeing anyone- as she had feared he would be- but then again he did not look entirely elated. No. At times he appeared content and at others he just seemed fearful, sad. Then again, she knew she was their only daughter, and only child after the death of her older brother. And yet again, the fact that it was none other than the Elvenking the one courting her seemed a reality her parents could not manage to visualize.

Alarya could perfectly remember that conversation with her parents the day Thranduil had asked to court her. Oh, Valar. If there was one memory she really wanted to perpetually erase from her mind, it was precisely that conversation. Oh, but what conversation? It could not even be called a conversation. Mostly, nobody spoke. Her mother had seemed to have lost her ability to speak, and her father had simply had a very hard time in between identifying Thranduil as his King or as the ellon who was courting his daughter. She had simply sat there awkwardly as her father threw stern glances at her, as if trying to find a reason to be angry with Thranduil but finding none. Oh, only thinking of that conversation made her shudder.

A knock on the opened door pulled her out of her thoughts just as she heard her mother sweetly greeting her father as the latter walked into the room.

"That dress is looking beautiful, Alarya." Her father said as he approached.

"You think?" She returned his smile, allowing herself to gently twirl around for him to fully see the dress. Her father seemed to be in a good mood that afternoon, and she most definitely did not want to spoil it. Her father simple nodded his head as a reply, with a hand dismissing the two maids who had finally finished their work on the bottom of her dress.

"Go change, my child, so that the dress can be finished." Her mother added in a gentle a tone- a thing that had proven to be very unusual that afternoon- placing a soft kiss on her husband's cheek. Alarya did as told, not wasting a single second of her mother's returned patience.