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The Comb

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Her hair was bound as was the fashion of their court. It just needed the final touch. "Please hand me the sandalwood comb."


"Yes madaam..." The maid reached for the comb where it was normally kept, then moved away alarmed. The action drew Arwen to look at her in concern.


"What is the matter?"



"The comb milady Arwen," the girl looked beside the vanity as she spoke, "It is not here."


Arwen stood looking around her chair, "That can not be."


The maid went over to the bed and rummaged through the abandoned pile of clothes on the bed. "Upon my life, it is not here."


Arwen flattened herself on the floor a moment later and began to look about in a near panic. "We must find it! It belonged to my mother!"


The maid immediately hit the floor looking about. The two scoured the entire room. Arwen was nearly in tears. "You do not think someone would have stolen it do you?"


"I can not bring myself to believe it." The maid spun around put her hands on her hips in worried thought. Both turned their attention to the doorway when Arwen's daughters came running in, a heated argument in full swing as they tugged back and forth on a small object.


"It is mine!"


"No mine!"


With relief the two women rushed forward and Arwen plucked the object they were fighting over out of their hands.


"Mine I believe. Thank you." With a relieved sigh she placed the comb of sandalwood in the tresses of her hair.