squirrelwrangler:

This was a writing experiment for myself- sit a bunch of my OCs down and ask them to eat something. Consider it a prototype of the Round Two of the Beren’s Band of the Red Hand series.

…

Aglar’s sister, the elder one who stayed with their mother and youngest brother, hosts a luncheon for her brother and his companions once they have all reunited from the healing gardens of Estë. Amanië relishes the opportunity to play as gracious host, and she has a fondness for lemon cakes that she shares with her guests. Multiple platters of tarts piled high are placed before her guests.
Faelindis, who quickly bonded with the older woman as a replacement for the bond of deep friendship she once shared with Princess Finduilas, equally adores the tart yet sweet treats. Her husband, Faron, splits one of the cakes with Faelindis, then leans back in his chair and watches with bemusement as Faelindis and Amanië devour a platter of cakes together. The two lean their heads together and giggle, but of what their topic of amusement is, Faron has no idea. Nor does he truly care. Next to them sits Aglar and his wife, Faelineth. Faelineth, with her thick curly brown hair, heart-shaped face, warm brown eyes, and Nargothrond accent, shares a few superficial traits with the similarly named Faelindis, but neither woman would be mistaken for the other. This is especially true when Faelineth is several months pregnant with twins, the yellow cotton dress draping over the wide bump of her middle, her cheeks -and other curves- more plump than normal. Faelindis, though healed from the horrors of her long captivity in Angband, cannot shake the thinness of her features, the shadow suggestion of gauntness to her cheeks. Once more Faelindis is a pale girl flanked by two more vivacious and beautiful women. Amanië is accredited as one of the foremost upcoming beauties in Valinor, with her striking red hair and bright blue eyes. She also towers over her brother and the other women, that tree-slender-and-tall body prized among Noldor high society, the same standard of beauty that garners Amanië comparisons to Princess Artanis. She resembles Princess Finduilas in personality, at least somewhat. Still, though Faron cannot help but admire her beauty, his attention returns again and again to Faelindis. Aglar watches his best friend with the knowing smirk of an expectant father anticipating his experiences with fatherhood soon to be mutual. He bites into a lemon cake to hide his smirk.
Ethirdor eyes the lemon cakes, which are closer to a tartlet despite the name, with a bit of confusion. Visually they look most like savory custards, the steamed egg dishes that he loved back in Beleriand. He eats one and is surprised at the sweetness and texture. Eagerly he eats a second.
Tacholdir takes a bite of the lemon cake, makes a face at the unexpected tartness of the lemon, attempts a second bite, then places the remaining cake back on his plate with a forlorn and disappointed look. His dismay at his own unwillingness to finish the proffered treat makes his fiancé laugh, and the blonde man fetches the half-eaten tart off Tacholdir’s plate and tosses in into his mouth. After he swallows the cake, he teases his fiancè. “Not sweet enough?”
“I thought the lemon flavor would not be as strong,” Tacholdir admits quietly. He glances towards Amanië, who is still deeply enthralled in her conversation with Faelindis. Relieved that their hostess has not been offended, the former pin-maker and clerk, now employee with the same publisher as Princess Findis, twists the chain of jewels around his neck and tries to calm his nerves. His fiancè rests a hand atop his, stilling the nervous action.
“And I thought I would be the one ill at ease today,” he murmurs.

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