Averyll had been standing off to one side, more watching the party than taking part in it. In fact, she had a hard time refraining from helping the servants pick up empty glasses or relight the flickering candles in the sparkiling candleabras. When she was offered a flute of champagne, she took it with a smile and a slight curtsy to the serving maid. Holding it carefully between her fingers, she took a sip and looked around for someone to talk to. She noticed the black hair and slim figure of Eleniel standing nearby. Approaching her, Averyll smiled.
"Well, Elen, what do you think of it all?" she asked pleasantly. "I, for one, can't remember when I have ever seen so much finery. It's as if they are all trying their best to outshine Finduilas. The dressmakers of Minas Tirith must be rolling in silver tonight," she added with a wink.
Eleniel nodded. "But not one of those ladies can hold a candle to Finduilas," she said loyally. "She looks so beautiful tonight."
"Absolutely stunning!" rejoined Averyll, watching Finduilas' graceful smile. "I hope they are accepting of her here."
Elen gave her a sideways look. "Why wouldn't they be? Denethor chose her himself and they say he is madly in love with her."
Averyll shrugged. "Oh, you know what geese women can be sometimes," she said, sidestepping the question. She had been watching the faces of the Minas Tirith ladies and had seen the thorns of jealousy cross the brow of more than one face. As the most eligible bachelor in the entire great city, if not all of Gondor, she was certain Denethor had broken the hearts of a few ladies, not to mention the hopes of a few ambitious mothers, as well. She had not missed the way the weeping young woman across the room had cast her eyes toward Denethor. She opened her mouth to add something else, but closed it again as the two of them were joined suddenly by Vieana.
"As soon as we can we shall ask Finduilas how she likes this place -- what do you think?" Vieana asked merrily.
"I would be interested to know what she thinks of all of this, that's for certain," Averyll answered honestly. "I hope she likes it." She couldn't help but think of her own brief and disastrous marriage that had ended nearly a year previous with her young husband's death. The only things that had kept her sane through it all had been the close proximity of her family and the birth of her son, whom she had been compelled to leave behind in Dol Amroth. If things went badly for Finduilas, she would be alone and far from home. "It looks like a lively enough place, anyway," Averyll ended optimistically.
"I like it here," volunteered Elen. "Of course, Dol Amroth will always be home, but this looks like a wonderful place... it's so big. And busy. She can't possibly get bored here."
Boredom could be the least of her problems, Averyll thought to herself, but said nothing of the kind. The upcoming wedding was supposed to be a happy occasion, and she felt badly that she felt such apprehension on behalf of Finduilas on the grounds of nothing more than the emotional scars she bore from her own bad fortune. With a gracious smile for her companions, Averyll silently vowed to keep her worries to herself. She was acting like a pessimistic old woman.
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