"Do you remember the Age when you used to mock me for taking so long to dress myself?" Thranduil laughed as he walked into his quarters to find that his wife had not yet moved from where he had last left her. By his reckoning, it had been at least an hour or so since he had left her to clothe herself whilst he had sought Tarthadir to ask him to take charge of the Halls of Greenwood in Thranduil's absence. Gilrin looked up from where she stood and gave Thranduil a half-glare as she struggled with the silver and green clasps on her dress. Thranduil knew she would not ask him for help, though all the same he walked over to her side and fastened them for her.

"It still takes me half the time to get myself ready these days than it did when you would wear those fancy, ridiculous robes Calithil." She smiled at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"They were very fashionable at the time Gilrin, and I dare say that they still would be had I managed to save any of them." Thranduil defended himself. Gilrin had never taken much interest in fashion, she simply looked more stunning than any other elleth in all of Arda without even trying. "Anyway, would you like me to tell our children that you have decided to reschedule our afternoon stroll to a starlit one?" He teased.

Gilrin rolled her eyes at his comment, before fidgeting with her dress. She had always felt more comfortable in her armour and had often worn it at feasts and and on her travels (causing Thranduil feel horrendously overdressed in his robes), but now she had no more need to don her armour and so had instead taken to wearing more dresses. And though they were often quite simple in design, her beauty had not faded over the years and still in her eyes shone the light of a thousand stars and in her smile was all the gentleness and kindness of the quendi. 

"Have you told Tarthadir of our arrangements?" She asked, ignoring her husband's last comment.

"He has agreed to look after everything in our brief absence-" Thranduil smiled, turning to look at his not-so-impressed chief councillor stood in the doorway.

"-not that I had much choice in the matter." Tarthadir muttered from where he stood.

"Cheer up melloneg, we will be back before you know it. Come, we can see whether Thranduilion is fairing any better than Gilrin with getting himself ready" Thranduil laughed lightly before he gave Gilrin a soft kiss and made his way towards the hall to make his way to his little Thranduilion's chambers.

"Be sure to check on your daughters as well Calithil! They have all taken after you when it comes to how long it takes them to get ready, perhaps you can share with them some of your boundless knowledge on fashion." Gilrin called behind Thranduil.

"I shall," He looked back at her. And even in the relatively simple dark green dress she wore, unadorned except for the patterns of vines winding around her sleeves, she still took his breath away. "You look beautiful Arameril," He smiled before he went with Tarthadir to go and find Thranduilion.

They made their way a little way down the hall, stopping at the next room along the hallway and Thranduil opened the door, letting both himself and Tarthadir . Despite knowing very well that Thranduilion would eventually have had to move into a room of his own, Thranduil felt himself missing the nights when his youngest would crawl into their bed and sleep with his little hands wrapped in Thranduil's hair.

If only they would stay young forever- 

"Thranduilion?"He called.

Aroreth Merilien Gilrien Legolas

notes: so feel free to jump in any way you like! I'll be rping thranduil and gilrin for this so you're free to interact with either.

Of course this wasn’t the first time that Legolas had been left alone to dress himself in his four short years of life but that didn’t mean that Legolas was able to stop himself from smiling at his reflection as he tied the cord of his britches and laced up the ties of his soft leather boots. It might not be the first time that he had been allowed to dress himself but it was the first time he had been allowed to dress himself for such an important event. Normally, for important guests with important business, Legolas would be carefully dressed by one of his parents so that he looked nothing short of immaculate. His father had once said that clothes were the first thing people judged others by and, as he was so much older and wiser than Legolas and had never ever been wrong, Legolas was happy to believe him.

And yes, maybe the event Legolas was dressing himself for was not quite a state event but, in Legolas’ young mind, it was just as important. After all, it wasn’t everyday that Legolas got to spend time with all his family.

Legolas studied himself in the mirror, smiling at what he saw. He was proud of the clothes he had chosen for himself and he couldn’t help but think he cut a dashing figure. Dark green cotton britches under a lighter green silk tunic (it was too warm for the heavier velvet Legolas preferred) embroidered with silver leaves shot through with gold thread, soft brown boots on his feet to match the belt around his waist. To finish the outfit off he wore a short silver cloak, like the ones his father favoured, fastened at his throat with a simple leaf shaped clasp. Everything was perfect, everything was perfectly in place.

Except….

Legolas’ smile faltered as he examined the clasp.

Slightly off centre.

With a frown he unclasped it, pulling the folds of his cloak until everything was arranged to his satisfaction.
He wanted everything to be perfect.

Whilst Legolas spent a lot of his time with his father and a fair amount of time with his mother he barely ever got to spend time with his sisters. He understood, of course; they were all so much older than he was and probably didn’t have time in their busy schedules to spend overly much time with a brother so much younger than they. Still, sometimes Legolas what it would be like to be close to his siblings rather than love and admire them from afar and watch in awe as they swept past him on what he could only assume was business of the utmost importance. Legolas happily told anyone who would listen that he wanted to be like his sisters when he grew older (after his father of course) but sometimes he wondered if he knew what it actually meant to be like them.

Finally the clasp was in the right place and Legolas’ smile returned. With one last look at his reflection he turned away from the mirror. The only thing left to do was his hair. Whilst Legolas had grown skilled at dressing himself his fingers, as deft as they were with ties and ribbons, fumbled when it came to plaiting and the braids often ended up looking more like knots. He had come a long way from his first attempts but he certainly wouldn’t wear his own plaits if he had a choice.
Pausing to pick up a small trinket to keep his hands occupied and to prevent himself from fiddling with his clothes, Legolas made his way over to his favourite window seat. With a little jump the young elf climbed up on to the seat trying hard not to topple any of the number of cushions to the floor.

Once Legolas had made himself comfortable he settled himself to wait for his father’s arrival. His gaze drifted towards window, his hands ran up and down the length of the trinket absentmindedly, his little legs swung back and forth above the ground in time to the nonsense tune he hummed.


Merilien Gilrien Aroreth

---

Once Aroreth was finished fussing over herself, she went in search of her younger siblings and parents, wondering if they were done and if any needed help.

She had chosen for herself for this special time a silvery blue silk gown with numerous darker blue gems sewn around her collar and shoulders and desended down and spread out so that it looked like falling water from a pool within a cliff. Light brown boots peeked out from under her skirt as she walked through the hallways of the family chambers. Her hair was pulled back from her face and knotted at the center back of her head with the bottom half French braided. This was a warmer summer than the year before, but not so unbarring.

Then she prided herself that she looked nearly identical to her mother, so she styled her hair everyday with braids. Some styles she asked her mothers help with, but was proud when she figured it out herself.

She paused at Merilien door first and peeked her head in. "Are you dressed, Merilien?" she called softly.

To be honest usually Merilien wasn't accustomed to this sort of things, especially like today where she had to walk with the whole family. But it wouldn't be proper to not show up, and that would be the least thing Merilien wanted. She gets awkward - extremely awkward around people in these types of occasions, but she should be okay. Plus, it was a chance to spend time with her nana, and if she was there - then everything would be alright. Aroreth would be there as well, and that would be another reassurance - though she felt like that she had distanced her family (excluding her mother, of course) relatively over the years, Aroreth was still someone she played with and spend lots of time with as a child, and Merilien would say that she was closest to her among all her siblings.

So when the pale elleth stood in front of her closet pondering, she felt like that choosing what to wear was not easier than some paradoxical problem. As much as she adored studying, clothes, jewelries and luxuries were also things that she ardently loved. This place - her closet - was intricately designed, and it certainly held far more clothes than one would expect, for it looked like nothing more than an alcove in the wall. Ranging from colors and different designs, they're neatly sorted according to Merilien's likings. Without question she went over to the green-colored garbs. Merilien thought that she looked best in green - and though she usually preferred darker colors, everything green was good to her. She had a chartreuse colored attire that was bespoken for her activities outdoors (which had proven to be a failure) when she was younger, and Merilien loved it as much as the rest of her dresses.

So hear she picked a medium-green dress that was neither too formal or too casual. She was slipping herself into it when she heard Aroreth at the door. "Soon, Aroreth!" She had called out, in a higher pitch than usual. Maybe she was excited for this after all? "I'm all dressed, but I still need to do my hair." She added, while sitting down at her dressing table.