Long tables covered in white tablecloths for feasting were placed under the trees. Down the length of the table were clusters of candles in three different sizes. In between the candles were square vases with fresh cut flowers of the season.
The festival was held every year to celebrate not only the coming spring, but also the romantic pursuits of the young elven men and women. When the seven-day festival was over, there were always couples announcing their intentions to marry.
As she approached the village entrance, a couple of the men hoisted a large arbor into place under the strict supervision of one of the women Elders. Her long silver hair hung in waves over her shoulders. Her gown was also silver trimmed in white fur. Her sharp blue eyes took in every detail. When she saw Snow, she gave a broad smile and a wave.
“Snow, Yirrie is looking for you,” she called. “Best hurry along, dear.”
She gave a nod, then picked up the hem of her skirt off the ground and hurried through the bustling village. A pang of guilt swept through her as she realized she was late for her solstice gown fitting. Yirrie would not be very happy with her for slipping out before dawn. So, she hurried, waving and smiling to the few who greeted her along her way. Not everyone in the village accepted Snow’s presence.
At last, she reached her woodland home and burst through the front door.
“Yirrie?” she called.
Yirrie, who raised her since she was eight years old, was the closest thing to a mother she had. Her own mother had passed away when she was small. She had no memory of her.
“Ah, there you are. Where have you been? Why is there dirt on your face?” Yirrie emerged from her bedroom looking frazzled.
“Did Annilen tell you I was on my way?”
Yirrie was tall and elegant and carried herself with aplomb, something Snow had always wanted to emulate. Her brown hair was long and straight and always had two plaits on either side of her head showing off her pointed elven ears. Her eyes were a mystifying shade of copper with gold flecks that gave a charmed look about her. She had high cheekbones, a pointed chin with a cleft, dusty pink lips, and was quite possibly one of the most beautiful elven women in the village.
Ignoring her question, she huffed out a breath at Snow’s appearance and shook her head. “You’ve been deep in the forest again, haven’t you?”
“I—”
“And yes, Annilen told me. Come now. The dressmaker is waiting.”
She grasped Snow’s elbow in a firm grip and led her through the house to the bedroom where Yirrie had emerged. The dressmaker was an elderly woman and, by elf age, that meant she was more than two hundred years old. No one was quite sure how old Zaliya was, after all, but she had been the dressmaker in the village for decades. She knelt at the base of a gown on a dress form, pins in her mouth, as she pinned up the hem of Yirrie’s gown.
“She’s here, mistress,” Yirrie announced.
“Ah,” she said around the pins on her mouth. She waved Snow forward, then removed the pins. “Where is the gown?”
“Here, mistress.”
Yirrie had somehow disappeared into the other room and quickly retrieved Snow’s solstice gown for her final fitting. The shiny blue and silver material was draped across her arms. She shoved it at Snow.
“Get changed quickly.”
Snow took it and disappeared into what served as the dressing room. She pulled off her day dress and shimmied into the gown, the smooth fabric hugging all her curves. The sleeves were a bit too long and the hem dragged the floor but that was why the dressmaker was here. Snow was also concerned about the plunging neckline that showed a significant amount of cleavage and intended to bring that up during the fitting.
When she emerged from the dressing room, both Yirrie and Zaliya gasped with delight and then smiled.
“Such a lovely vision,” Zaliya said on a sigh.
Yirrie clasped her hands together, a wistful smile on her face. “Snow, you look beautiful.”
“I’m not sure about the neckline—” she started.
“It’s perfect, dear. Now stand still and let me pin the hem,” Zaliya said as she dropped to her knees. The pins were back in her mouth as she scooted around Snow.
“But, it’s too—” Snow tried again.
“What’s wrong with it?” Yirrie moved to stand in front of her, looking her over with a critical eye. “It’s the new fashion for all the maidens.”
“Ye will be sure to catch the eye of one of the young men,” Zaliya added helpfully.
Something shifted inside Snow at those words. She wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted. While she was a member of the village for the last ten years, she wasn’t exactly looking for a husband. Though she knew that most of the young maidens in the villagewouldbe doing just that. The Springtide Festival was all about finding one’s soul mate, dancing and singing around the bonfires, sipping honeywine, and feasting until one could no longer feast. The banquet hosted a twenty-course meal that included several roasted meats, vegetables, different kinds of breads, all sorts of delectable desserts, and dancing and singing from the moment the sun set to the moment the sun rose.
