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Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë Aracáno (nolofinwe) wrote in thefeanorians,

The wedding was over and Findis had retreated from the palace of the king to the home of her husband and his family. It had left the palace empty in new capacities and a lot quieter than it had ever been before. The quiet was a beautiful thing in and of itself and Findis was not gone long enough for the siblings to quite miss her yet. They were still coming off the edge of the celebratory phase and the city was slowly returning to normal. The people certainly returned to their normal day activities and the market had teemed with the arrival of new crafts as ever it did. Ñolofinwë spent the majority of his time since the wedding cavorting with the people, learning of their heart's work and of they themselves. He was their prince but even so did not hold himself to the lofty standards that his sister did.

He moved through the market with a familiar grace and ease, stopping with all the vendors to share words with them as he passed through. He wasn't discriminating by any means and did at least purchase things as he passed through, whether they be the most beautiful works or something smaller. Not every time, of course! That would be foolish, and not all on the same day else they think he did it out of obligation. As such, the palace was full of the wares from the craftsmen of Tirion and very few of them were made by hands in the family. The Fëanorian works they had were the things given to their father by his oldest son, or else trinkets bought by Ñolofinwë himself. He couldn't--nor would he ever--let his brother's irrational grudge force him away from the works of his brother's heart. They all knew he was good at his work, and Ñolofinwë sought to recognize it by paying the asking price for his things. He wouldn't submit to his pride on the matter, nor would he beg to be given any favors.

But all that aside, Ñolofinwë was in the market, otherwise what reason would he have to see or bother the lady seamstress now that she'd finished her good work? Luck would have it that they both wandered through around the same time and Ñolofinwë stood with his younger brother, a whole 30 Valian Years old, and ridiculously young as such as they talked to one of the vendors. Arafinwë spoke, at least, for Ñolofinwë's attention strayed when his eyes alighted upon a familiar face. And quite by surprise! He'd certainly never followed anyone around before and so hadn't expected to see the Lady Anairë.

"Pardon me," he said pleasantly, looking at both his little brother and the vendor whom they were engaging. He bowed politely and turned to follow the lady through the crowd, "Lady Anairë!" he called with his musical voice, taking an extra step to lengthen his stride as he weaved through the throng that was typically gathered - elves from the Sea, and from Taniquetil, and other elvish cities around Aman - all selling their wares or buying each others' work in the main city of Tirion. It was a beautiful sight to be surrounded by so many of the elf-kindreds.

"Are you enjoying the day out, my lady?" Ñolofinwë asked curiously as he fell into step beside the seamstress at last.