grundyscribbling: buffy summers (buffy)
[personal profile] grundyscribbling
Title:  Maeglin
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Anariel meets her (not so) new brother-in-law.
Word Count: 1300

To say Maeglin was nervous would be an understatement.

He was well aware his law-brothers were less than thrilled with their sister’s choice of mate. After being welcomed wholeheartedly and enthusiastically by his Amanyar kin, it had been disconcerting to be faced with elves who had only ever heard the version of him from history told in Ennor, which was every bit as vile as he had long assumed it would be.

Tindomiel had long assured him her sister would view matters differently. (And also, that if her brothers didn’t shape up and get with the program, she was planning to set her grandmother Rillë on them.)

That did not make the initial meeting any easier – especially when it had been put off once already.

“Relax,” Tindomiel sighed. “Please? I talked to them. They really are on their way. They should be here within the hour. It wasn’t anything to do with you that Anariel didn’t want to press on yesterday – Uncle Ango and Uncle Aiko tried tracking her from Valimar and she was tired and cranky and not in a people mood. Waiting was definitely a better idea.”

“Uncle Ango?”

That was new.

“Yeah, I didn’t know about him either. My brothers haven’t been here long enough to know that he only just returned. As far as they knew, he was just another uncle.”

Maeglin finally smiled.

“Did you happen to mention the difference to them?”

“No, I’m saving it for when they get here. Assuming they’re not in babysitting mode. At least it’ll be directed at someone other than me for a change…”

Maeglin sighed and wrapped his arms around his mate.

“She is fine. You know perfectly well she would not have been allowed to roam around if she weren’t. All your Valarin aunts would have made sure she stayed in Lórien. I don’t think ever your sister the Slayer could fight that.”

“You’re right,” Tindomiel replied after a moment, brightening in a way he hadn’t seen in months. “She’s fine. That might even be true, seeing as it’s according to somebody else’s definition of fine.”

“What’s wrong with her own?” Maeglin asked in confusion.

Tindomiel laughed.

“I’ll explain later. For now, just know that you do not ever accept her word for it if she tells you she’s fine.”

She perked up.

“They’re almost here. Where’s her sword?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Maeglin asked.

He was still rather dubious about his mate’s idea that he should greet her sister holding a sword. Most elves would find that slightly hostile, even if the intent was to give them the sword in a peaceful manner.

“It’s the best idea,” she replied firmly. “That’s her favorite sword, it won’t hurt at all to remind her who made it.”

Maeglin sighed and brought the sword out from his pack.

“If you say so,” he muttered.

He could hear her brothers now, and a voice that must be her sister.

He hoped this would go well.
---

Anariel knew her sister was close – and her husband, whoever he was. Her brothers had held firm on that subject. She’d only given up asking about half an hour ago.
They had been following the stream they’d camped by last night, which despite some impressive meanders was running mostly southeast.

She’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep – no Uncle Aegnor dream. That was a mixed blessing. She knew already that there was no getting out of it entirely. At some point in the near future, she’d get to see again how much fun the Battle of the Sudden Flame wasn’t. Actually, considering how many people had died in it, chances were she’d get to see it quite a lot.

But two good nights’ sleep in a row felt like a small victory right now.

Especially since she knew she wouldn’t get three.

Elrohir and Elladan might not have admitted exactly who, but by their reactions, whoever her sister had married would set off Morgoth’s little parting gift just as surely as Uncle Aegnor.

When they reached the clearing where her sister was waiting, she was braced for anything.

Tinu had made sure she was standing in front of her husband, whoever he was. From this angle, all Anariel could tell was ‘tall and dark haired’.

Tinu squealed and seized her.

“It took you freaking long enough!” she declared.

“Did you get taller?” Anariel asked.

“Possibly. I missed you too,” her sister replied cheerfully.

Then she stepped to one side.

Her husband stepped forward.

“Though I was relieved to hear this found its way to you, I would like to hand it to you as I had originally hoped.”

The sword he was holding out was Calaliltië – the real one, not the version she’d armed herself with while fighting Morgoth. Estë had flatly refused to allow anyone to bring it to her in Lórien.

She glanced sideways at her sister, only to find Tinu looking ridiculously hopeful.

You married Maeglin? Jeez, after all the fuss the boys were kicking up, I was expecting something more dramatic.

“I am sorry you could not do so the first time,” she said aloud to Maeglin, taking her sword and resisting the urge to hug it as well.

“Aw, look, she’s looking happier already,” Elladan remarked.

“Yes, and she be even more cheerful if you happen to have a boot knife or two to give her,” Elrohir added.

“Stop being horse’s behinds, both of you,” Anariel ordered. “I hope you were nicer when you first met him.”

“They weren’t,” Tinu said flatly.

As Anariel swung around to glare at their brothers, she added, “told you.”

Anariel rolled her eyes at the twins and turned back to Maeglin.

“Um, I don’t know if we shake hands or hug or what,” she said sheepishly. “I had kind of expected to get to know my sister’s husband before she got hitched.”

Maeglin mouthed ‘hitched’ in Tindomiel’s direction, and Anariel sighed.

“How long have you been married and you haven’t given him a basic rundown on California expressions?”

“You know darn well how long we’ve been married, I started to tell you at the time,” Tinu shot back.

Anariel smirked.

“That was you getting married. You’re lucky Men can’t come back, or Arwen would probably do it just to smack you. That was her guess.”

Her face fell for a second, as the reality of Arwen’s words at the time sunk in. But now really wasn’t the time to think about that. She forced a smile, and looked at Maeglin.

“Honestly, with all the drama, I was expecting… I don’t know, Celegorm or something.”

“Eww!” Tindomiel exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. “Seriously?”

“What is with all of your sibling’s fixation on Uncle Tyelko?” Maeglin asked in bewilderment.

Four heads turned to him in bemused unison.

Anariel was the first to recover.

“I think you’re going to fit in just fine.”

It was the first smile she’d seen on him that looked genuine.

“That’s it?” Elladan asked in disappointment.

“What were you expecting?” Anariel asked. “Fireworks? A parade?”

“They were betting on your reaction,” Tindomiel said gleefully. “And they lost. Big time.”

“To who?” Anariel asked. Turning to her brothers, she added, “I am so disappointed in you. Again, what were you expecting?”

“Surprise?” Elrohir suggested. “Shock?”

“Trapping him in his own workshop until he makes you more weapons?” Elladan added.

“Erestor, of all people, is due a tidy sum from these two dopes,” Tindomiel replied wryly. “They’re just lucky they haven’t seen Gildor or Glorfindel yet, or they’d be out even more.”

Anariel caught that she was shushing Maeglin, and made a mental note to ask what was going on with Erestor. But not now.

All she wanted to hear about right now was her sister. And her new brother.

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