Two weeks ago

“Legolas!”

“Melmenya! You look as though the sky had fallen down upon you.”

“Worse,” cried Eowyn. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Much worse, Lassui. I have lost your grandmother’s mantle. Someone has taken it.”

“Oh melmenya!” He hugged her tightly.

…

“Mistress Valaina,”—leading Eowyn into the seamstress’s workroom, Legolas greeted the elleth, hand on heart—“please ignore my foolish instructions—I wish you to show Lady Eowyn her Yuletide gift.”

Smiling, Valaina rose and held up her work—a slim, elegant gown of the softest ice-green velvet, delicately embroidered with frosted carantaur leaves, and fringed with silvery silk.