Manly
[A young Imrahil’s visions of manhood may or may not have included this duty]
Dol Amroth, 3001 TA
Two blue-and-silver-clad sentinels stood together at one side of the castle gates near the end of their shift. They were discussing the unnatural quietness of the day when something small streaked past.
“Who was that?” Berior asked.
The older sentinel, Galudirn, grimaced. “The little princess.”
“Oh…do they usually let her run through the courtyard like that?”
“Only when...”
“Now she’s squeezed under the portcullis. Should we…?” Berior shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, unsure if he should stay or follow.
“Wait for it.”
“Prince Imrahil,” the young sentinel gasped as the Prince dashed by without a glance. “Is that her wee dress he’s got over his shoulder?”
“Appears to be.”
They watched Prince Imrahil, a warrior in his prime, chase after the naked baby once the portcullis rose for him.
“What do you suppose he held in his hand?”
“Looks like a child’s smallclothes.”
“They’re going in his pocket now,” Berior observed as the Prince strode back into the courtyard with one arm gripping the wiggling child and the other juggling her clothes.
“Bet he never pictured himself having to do that when he was a lad.” Galudirn grinned.
Berior shook his head, “What lad would?”
Imrahil’s children waited inside the archway beyond the dais, for tonight Dol Amroth formally celebrated her princes’ return. Music drifted in and mingled with the curious murmuring from within the great hall: their cue.
“This is the worst part,” Amrothos groaned, shrinking further into the shadows.
“I’ll hold your hand,” Lothíriel whispered impishly, knowing that all eyes were turned toward the silver curtain and that Amrothos abhorred spectacle.
“Oh, would you, Lothíriel? Please?” he hissed back, earning a frown from Elphir and a laugh from Erchirion.
Lothiriel clasped Amrothos’s waist impulsively, savoring his surprised laughter.
“Ouch! All right, Lothy, easy.”
Without warning, someone came up behind Arniel and stilled her hands, which were busy fastening the back of her dress. Arniel jerked her hands free of the loose grip and spun around to face the intruder in her bedroom. The neck of her gown slipped down her shoulders just before she could catch it.
“Imrahil!” she gasped as her heart slowed upon recognition. “You startled me!”
“I know.” His voice dripped with self-satisfaction and something sparked in his grey eyes as his gaze swept over her bare shoulders, something that had become bone-meltingly familiar to her. “Perhaps I should have surprised you a mite earlier?”
He stepped closer, pinning her between his hard, warm body and their bed. Instantly, she felt heat course through her own body and waited for the kiss that usually followed. Instead her husband focused on something over her shoulder. His black brows furrowed as he nodded toward the bed.
“What are all these, meleth nín?”
Disappointed, she glanced over her shoulder to the pile of clothes he’d indicated, “My new dresses.”
Imrahil stepped around her and plucked a gown from the pile. He held it up by the sleeves, studying it as though it were a treaty to be signed.
“Do you like them?” she asked a little breathlessly.
“Beautiful,” he smirked after dropping the gown—a rare silk— onto the rug. Arniel’s mouth dropped open as he continued this unusual behavior, and soon the rest of the clothing on the bed lay strewn about the bedroom floor in a similar fashion. “You have good taste,” he told her after surveying the mess.
“But…what are you doing?” She bent to pick them up, but he caught her elbow.
“Making sure that your new clothes look as good as your old ones do on the floor…where they belong,” his eyes roved over her body and the husky drag in his voice caused Arniel to blush. “Ah ha! I don’t recall seeing this gown before, either,” he murmured as he reached to finger the low, silver trimmed collar of her gown.
The attention his finger gave to her clothing made her body quiver, yet she backed away from his reach. “Don’t you even think of adding this dress to wrinkle with the rest of them!” she chided, but then ruined it by laughing.
Arniel bent down to retrieve her gowns, wanting to set the room to rights before any of this behavior continued. When she peeked up, Imrahil grinned smugly while his eyes rested on her…oh!
She had forgotten to finish fastening her gown.
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