[Meela]

Meela sidled into the backstage area, avoiding the chaos and clutter of the wings. Nervously adjusting her dress straps, she spotted Denethor lounging on a tatty sofa, carefully polishing her award with the sleeve of his fur-lined cloak. Meela sighed dreamily and remained hidden from his view. She did not want to disturb the scene, preferring to drool in private for a while longer.
Eventually she could bear it no more. Leaping upon the unsuspecting Steward, she threw the award aside and grabbed his collar. Denethor gasped in surprise as Meela planted an enthusiastic kiss upon his lips. It did not take him long to respond.
Reluctantly she pulled away and stood up. Feeling a little awkward, Meela held out her hand, which Denethor solemnly shook. Then, grinning, he picked up the once more dusty award and pressed it into her hand. Taking her by the other hand, they made their way out of the wings and around to the entrance of the ceremonial hall. They took their seats at the back, their heads bent together as they discussed who had made an appearance and who had not. Meela paused in her mutterings to wave enthusiastically at Airehiriel, and grinned as the wave was returned.