Gnome Table Runners Novels & Stories

The long table that stood at the center of the room was made of dark, polished wood and had been set with fine china and crystal glasses. The tablecloth was made of the finest linen, and a large arrangement of fresh flowers stood at the center. At the head of the table, sat a large, ornate chair, reserved for the Alpha and Luna of the Pack. The other chairs, placed around the table, were also made of dark wood and had plush velvet cushions.

"I like this one too." "Don't you think that's too ... simple?" I trailed my finger over the tables. "It's too white. White plates, white napkins, white candles, white table runners - if you don't mind, I would love to add a few more colours." "Which are?" "An addition to this", I reassured him. "Green, gold and grey. Grey table runners. Green will be the flowers. Gold could be the accent colour. The rest will be white. But that's just an example."

Just on sight I can tell that this Alpha has the finest of everything and expects the best for himself and his pack. Each table is draped in thick black tablecloths with a tall vase holding floating candles and filled with clear glass that reflects the light. String lights and fabric are draped elegantly from the ceiling and there are white and purple flowers on every available surface. Everything is ornate and beautiful but not gaudy. Copyright ©️ 2024 Miss L Writes and Ember Mantel Productions

Clara leaned over the dining table nearby, jotting down notes with the precision of someone who wanted everything to be perfect. “I didn’t realize there were so many decisions for a ceremony,” Nicola said, holding up two fabric swatches. “Cream or ivory for the table runners?” Clara looked up, her eyes scanning the options. “Ivory. Cream is too yellow under the evening lights.” Nicola chuckled. “Noted. Anything else? Matching napkins, perhaps?” Clara threw her a playful glare. “Keep that up, and you’re in charge of napkin folding.” Nicola grinned, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Ivory it is.”

Behind her, her assistant wheeled in a rack covered in protective cloth. “Luna,” she greeted warmly, eyes bright. My chest tightened at the word. “Gina,” I corrected gently. Her smile widened, understanding flickering in her gaze. “Of course. Gina.” She stepped into the living room and got to work quickly. Fabric swatches appeared first. Silks. Satins. Structured crepe. Embroidered lace. Rich velvet lining. She spread them across the coffee table like an artist laying out paints before a masterpiece. Debbie leaned forward immediately. “Ooooh. That deep ivory one.”

Tony came out with more trays and with those, they had finally moved everything over. The table looked great, with a nice espresso brown tablecloth with a burlap runner down the middle. In the center there was a bowl of tiny pumpkins that his mom was super excited about for some reason. They did look nice. Mom had broken out her good dishes, silverware, and crystal glasses, and set the black-magic-manipulated sailor hat napkins on each plate. The deep crimson napkins made everything look professional.

The Luna ceremony was I'm only four more days, but time was going by so fast. “Oh, awesome. How about you chose a wax for me? I'll go meet Margot now.” I suggested, making him smile. I kissed his lips and made my way out to the dining room. Margot was already there, with two giant rolls of fabric. The bottom layer of the tables was a blush pink, while the one on top was a laced fabric in gold. It had beautiful details, but it fits just perfectly with the theme.

The atmosphere was charged with excitement, and the air was filled with a symphony of hurried footsteps and whispered conversations. As I observed the table being meticulously set, my eyes narrowed in bewilderment. The plates before me were not the ones I had carefully chosen. Puzzled, I approached the female responsible for arranging the table, seeking an explanation. With a gentle yet determined voice, I inquired, "Where are the plates I selected? And why have the table runners deviated from our agreed-upon sage colour?" She appeared slightly puzzled, bowing her head before responding. "I was instructed to make these changes, Luna. We were asked to use these plates and bring out the red ta

“What does it look like?” “It looks like you’ve lost your mind,” I replied, stepping further into the room. I picked up one of the fabric swatches—a delicate silver material that actually felt quite nice. “Since when do you care about party planning?” “Since the mother of my child decided to work herself into exhaustion,” he countered, snatching the swatch from my hand. “This one’s for the napkins, by the way. Goes with the table runners.” The event planners were watching our exchange with barely concealed curiosity. Isaac noticed and waved them away.

“Oh no! Madame Luna, zat won’t be necessary… please, let me get you one of our best seats in ze house.” “I’ll take the table by the window, two in from the door.” “But madame Luna, zat is nowhere near our best table! Too public. I’m sure you want more privacy?” “That table will be just fine, thank you.” Grabbing a few menus, he glides between tables to a lovely table situated in a window. Cynthia excuses herself back out to the car and we follow him to our seats. The table is a deep mahogany brown with silk napkins. Rose petals litter the table. The glow of the setting sun is masked behind shimmering curtains. It’s lovely. How can this not be one of the nicest tables here?