[Estelyn Telcontar]

Only the discipline of many years of adventurous journeys enabled Merisuwyniel to contain her excitement while she dressed for the shopping trip. Pimpi’s eagerness equalled hers; she managed only one breakfast before they were ready to leave! Celery met them with more alacrity than he usually felt at this early hour of the day; he took their hands reassuringly as they entered the golden elevator.

Mallorn Mall was like nothing they had ever seen before. A dizzying procession of elegant shops paraded past them as they walked, filled with the most dainty accessories and the most astonishingly elegant gowns. The heady scent of perfumes from Peris-edhil intoxicated their senses and Pimpi noticed with satisfaction that there were lipsticks of a red bright enough even for her taste. When she discovered that they were flavoured as well, she bought several. She was getting hungry now, and as she joined Merisuwyniel, who was gazing raptly at the jewellery displayed in a large showcase, she wished that she had brought sandwiches, so that they could have had second breakfast at Tintallë’s.

Celery, accustomed to anticipating female whims after so many ages of marriage, led them to a nearby café. To Pimpi’s complete and utter gratification, they were served sandwiches, scones and cakes on a triple-layered tray along with an invigorating hot beverage. Since Merisuwyniel merely nibbled at the dainties and Celery sipped only a glass of Kiril Royale, she was able to still her appetite quite satisfactorily.

“Now that you have regained your strength,” their host said, “we shall seek out the boutiques that cater to young misses sizes and tastes.” He added, “Follow me!”

That was my line on the journey, Merisuwyniel mused. It was rather nice to let another make the decisions now, especially since Celery could find his way through the labyrinth of hallways that had caused her to lose her orientation. Purposefully, their host strode toward a lighted sign that said ‘Halfway to Valinor’. “Here we shall find clothes suited for our Half-Halfling,” he explained.

And there, in the window, was a dress – the dress of Pimpiowyn’s dreams. Black velvet, cut low at the neck, adorned with ribbons of golden embroidery, and above all, the sleeves – falling gracefully to the ground and of a width and length that made any practical action of the wearer nearly impossible. Her eyes grew round and large as saucers; breathlessly, she turned to Celery and asked, “May I try that one on?” He smiled in answer and entered the shop with her. Neither noticed that Merisuwyniel had stayed outside, looking at the beautiful dress with yearning eyes.

Even from outside she could see that the gown was not her size – the hem looked as though it would come just below her knees, a shockingly immodest and unbecoming length. And she knew how little its colour would flatter her; Elves never wear red, her godmother had told her. Yet its beauty touched her heart so profoundly that she was moved to a highly unusual poetic utterance.

Oh beautiful for spacious sleeves,
for ‘broidered bands of gold,
for deep, dark velvet majesties,
for colours bright and bold.

She was shaken out of her reverie by Celery’s gentle voice, calling her to come inside. Reluctantly, she acquiesced.

In the shop, Pimpiowyn had disappeared into a fitting room with the garment. Celery motioned Merisuwyniel to follow him to another small room. There hung a dress, midnight blue and encrusted with shining white gems and threads of gold and mithril, so ingeniously embroidered that they seemed to be the stars and constellations of the heavens. It too had the voluminous sleeves that were obviously in fashion this season, diaphanous layers of various shades of blue, like unto clouds in the night sky. She gazed at it in wonder, touching its soft folds reverently before carefully putting it on.

When she came out of the fitting room, Pimpi was already turning excitedly to let the skirt and sleeves of the dress swirl around her. Merisuwyniel wished that there would have been a mirror in which she could see herself in the dress, but when she asked, Celery only said, “You need no mirror but the admiring eyes of a man, my dear. You both look wonderful.” Timidly, she inquired what the price of these fabulous garments would be, but the Elven ruler shook his head and said, “Roneld and I have made advance arrangements for all such matters. You need not trouble your pretty heads with them. As the saying goes, Oh, I can buy with a little help from my friends. Now we must go to Manwëolos for shoes.”

‘Shoes’ seemed much too prosaic a word for the creations of soles, high heels and a few leather straps that they looked at in astonishment. Such impractical, certainly uncomfortable, wholly unsuitable for normal life footwear – and soooo sexy! Even Pimpi, who hated to wear shoes and had never even tried on high heels, couldn’t resist the magic appeal and slipped into a pair that made her sturdy feet look irresistibly feminine. Celery chose a pair of silver sandals for Merisuwyniel to try on, with equally admirable results.

Hours later, laden with the spoils of the most unusual hunt both maidens had ever experienced, they arrived back at the pentflet in time to rest before preparing for the evening’s big party.

Saladriel was feeling quite magnanimous after the admiration of newly come males. In a fit of unwonted generosity, she sent her hairdresser to arrange their coiffures in a festive style. Crowned with curls and braids and adorned with their new evening gowns, they made their appearance at the door to the ballroom, shyly awaiting the reactions of the others. Celery saw them first and strode to welcome them. He handed each of them an ornamented case and said, “Please do an old man the favour of accepting these small trinkets. I know that Silmarils are a girl’s best friends, yet these poor substitutes can only serve to reflect the brilliance of your eyes.”

Astonished, they opened the cases to find a golden necklace with red jewels for Pimpiowyn and a mithril band with a single white star to adorn Merisuwyniel’s brow. Their host helped them to fasten the clasps, since their fingers were trembling with the unaccustomed excitement of the occasion.

As the admiring eyes of the company rested upon the maidens, it appeared that fire and night stood together. Pimpiowyn glowed with an earthy, warm beauty that seemed to spread to all who saw her. Even Vogonwë, who thought he knew her well, stood thunderstruck and for once, absolutely wordless before her.

When they turned their eyes to Merisuwyniel, many of the assembled throng gasped in astonishment, for it seemed to them that Varda herself had appeared in Middle-Earth. Tall and slender she stood, and the Valacirca, Wilwarin, Remmirath, and other constellations shimmered from her raiment as the star shone on her brow. More than one of the company felt an urge to kneel before her, and Celery bowed his head reverently. Then the spell was broken, and the festivities began.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: Estelyn Telcontar ]