1. Dance Lessons - by Tanaqui
"Did you mean to twice partner Belegorn's daughter?"
Aragorn frowned at Halbeleg's question. "Blue ribbons?" he hazarded, after a moment's thought.
Halbeleg nodded. Aragorn sighed. "No. 'Twas she pulled me into the round dance near the end, while I talked to Hirgon. It would have been churlish to refuse, but I did not realise...."
"They think you have chosen," Halbeleg warned softly.
Aragorn looked up, alarmed.
"'Tis not a bad choice," Halbeleg mused."She has wit and courage to achieve her ends."
"I... am not ready...," Aragorn stuttered.
"You are fully twenty five," Halbeleg chided.
I will never be ready.
Dance Lessons II
"Dance with me!"She tried to tug him away from the fire and towards the circle of merrymakers.
"Nay, I do not dance." He gave her a sad smile as he gently unclasped her fingers. "I have not the skill. I would step on toes"
"Nay, that I do not believe!" Her blonde hair gleamed as she tilted her head back and challenged him with a fiery look. "I have watched you on the practice field. A swordsman such as you must be a fine dancer." She turned. "Uncle, command him dance with me."
Thengel laughed. "Consider yourself commanded, Thorongil."
Dance Lessons III
Most of the time, he chafed at the stifling etiquette of Ecthelion's court. The excess of cutlery and napery at table, and course upon course to be picked at, when his needs, Gondor's needs, would be better satisfied with bread and cheese eaten over maps and despatches. The elaborate salutes each time two lords met or parted. The formality of council meetings, where Denethor thwarted his every move under cover of silky politeness.
Yet at least no young lady who valued her reputation would ask to dance. He could persuade and politick at balls without fear of distraction or offence.
Dance Lessons IV
He led her to the head of the first set of the first dance. While he waited for the court to line up beside them, and the musicians to begin the measure, his fingertips revelled in the feel of hers. Whirling her through the steps, she was warm to his touch through the stiff brocade of her bridal gown.
Others whisked her away from time to time, but none begrudged him when he reclaimed her .
Now the music had faded, the crowds were left behind. At last he could draw her close and began the oldest, sweetest dance of all.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.