If there was one member of the house who loved washday, it was Arwen. It always began with the gathering of all of the dirty laundry by the maids. Arwen would follow them about and help by carrying a sock that strayed from a basket or a forgotten towel to them. For this, she would be given a pat on the head, and sometimes, a candy. Good, sweet candies, not the kind that Erestor offered her that tasted bitter or turned her teeth black and green.
Then, it was off to the river. Sometimes, she would be given a small sack with fruit and bread for lunch, while other times the nanny would be sent along with a picnic lunch for them to share. On occasion, her brothers came, too; Arwen noted that this was to flirt with the wash maids even though they always told their parents it was to look after their sister.
Once they came to the bank of the Bruinen, the maids would unload the wheelbarrows used to transport the laundry through the valley. They would stretch a net from a large rock that was a few yards out to a tree upon shore. This kept any of the items from washing downstream should they slip from their hands. Then they would roll up their sleeves, and the gossiping would begin. The washing began, too, but Arwen took note that the maids seemed more occupied with who was in a relationship with whom than they were with working the stains from someone’s trousers.
Her mother never came down to the river on these days, nor would her father, nor her uncles, but sometimes Lindir would join the group assembled on the shore. He would arrive after lunchtime, when the hard work was already done. Clothing and sheets had been wrung out and were stretched across hithlain between the trees to dry. This was the part that Arwen liked the best. Some days, the older elves would act a bit younger, and the maids would engage in games with her brothers (in which the winner always kissed the loser, something she did not quite understand). Lindir would perch in a tree and sing songs, and if there was a game of tag or hide and seek going on, would wink and point out the hiding spots behind a tree or a blanket hung in the breeze to the seekers.
It was inevitable with all of the excitement that Arwen would get tired – the long walk down to the river was enough in and of itself, not to mention the fun once they arrived. A few times she would still be awake when the clothing had dried in the sun, and then would help to fold the linens. Most of the time, however, she would be curled up next to Lindir as he crooned a lullaby or sitting on one of her brother’s laps falling asleep.
She always awoke the same way – back at the house, in a wheelbarrow, upon a pile of fluffy, fresh blankets, in the hallway outside the linen closet.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Arwen likes washday