Midsummer was quickly approaching, and to Parnard’s surprise, Danel and Estarfin expected a huge feast, complete with dancing on the grass, despite the attack on Númenstaya and the killing of Aearlinn. He wondered secretly at this, but made no remark or protest, reminding himself that since it is a high feast day, a day set apart as one of the most hallowed days of the Elven calendar, the Noldor would not permit anything to disrupt their celebration, least of all a group of murdering, bloodthirsty, pillaging men. So thinking it eminently practical, Parnard turned his attention to the matter of what Marawendi should wear, having already tumbled out her belongings from the leather bag she brought with her to Númenstaya, only to find a linen apron, coarse woolen hose, and a pair of slovenly, ill-fitting slippers, much worn down at the heel; and he realized at that time that she was in need of more than a new dress, but an entire wardrobe.
His thoughts drew back to the days of his youth in the Greenwood, when he beheld King Thranduil and his coterie in the finest robes of green and shining gold with sashes of gold and silver cloth. Their horses were gaily caparisoned for the hunt; on their harnesses hung little gold and silver bells, and the whole wood echoed to the joyful tinkling sounds. Many were the wishes I made in those days, thought Parnard. That I might leave the wood and see what lay beyond its eaves. That I might see where the King and his court rode. Foolish wishes, maybe.
Then he got to work. Using a bolt of the softest, finest, whitest linen, so transparent that he could read a page of a book through it, he cut out a wide square, and making a line of impeccably neat stitches, gathered the fabric into a row of minute tucks around the top which he trimmed with a froth of lace and ribbon, and not stopping there, he embroidered the shift all over with sprigs of tiny lilies in white silk floss. Then he cut out three voluminous petticoats from the same cloth, and sewed, trimmed, and embroidered them in the same manner as the shift.
Next he took the bolt of pale blue silk, and devoting all his skill and care, cut and sewed it into a fitted low bodice with a long billowing skirt attached by a wide sash of silver and gold lace. And, not thinking it was rich enough, he took out his needle kit again, and embroidered fanciful flowers and large ostentatious spangles in silver thread down the front of the bodice and flounce.
Fine dresses embroidered with silver and gold thread are part of ordinary Noldor dress, thought Parnard as his needle bit into the delicate fabric. The cost of one of Danel’s velvet and silk dresses was beyond what many Silvan elves could afford, and she owned an entire wardrobe of such clothes. Marawendi must have appropriate adornments if she is to be an apprentice of the Noldor, and to reflect her new-found status, such a modest, comely, and dainty beauty must be clothed in a magnificent manner with raiment that fits to perfection.
Many hours later, he sighed as he looked at the dress. Stiff with its ornate lace and silver embroidery, it was much heavier than intended, too heavy for Marawendi’s petite figure and the season. Nórui* is the time for thin summer gowns, the delight of elf-maidens who dance and twirl as if they are wearing nothing but a cobweb! and rummaging around in a chest he found a few ells of sheer watered lavender silk. Taking up his sharpest shears, he cut out another bodice similar to the first dress, but this time he cut out two diaphanous petal-shaped skirts, attaching one to the other so that no other lining or petticoat would be needed, and sewed on the bodice. On the top layer of the skirt he embroidered a trailing morning glory vine, and then declared the dress finished.
Marawendi wanted a blue dress. While it was not blue, it was very charming in its simplicity, like herself, and as it was so thin and light, she would remain cool even in the warmest weather, even with the most rigorous of dancing and sporting on the green sward. If the day grew very hot she would plunge into the lake to cool off. This filmiest of dresses with its graceful lines would be as natural to her as a leaves to a flower.
And what of gems for her shining hair? Who needs diadems of diamond or pendants of pearl? A wreath of flowers is enough: she could not be plain even if she tried! Her footstep is light, her breath sweet, even her cough is pleasant; it was impossible for Parnard to think of her performing the commonest act of daily life in anything but a charming way, and he was certain that her winsome influence was already being felt throughout the household, because Danel, Ceuro, and Filignil told him they thought her pretty and pleasing, and beautiful and charming, and so ready and eager to help; and when one is so ready and willing to attend, and has no irritating ways, and does not talk overmuch, and does not fidget, or worry one with questions, and is always fresh-faced, neat, and cheerful with bright eyes and marvelously smooth hair, it seems as if one wants for nothing.
Very pleased at his creation, and congratulating himself for his good luck and cleverness at finding such a dainty, modest, good-tempered, charming, pleasing, neat, cheerful and becoming maiden to serve the Noldor, he carefully folded the dress, placing it in a box to present to Marawendi on the day of the feast.
*: the month of June
