Reunion in Alqualondë
Apr. 6th, 2024 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingTitle: Reunion in Alqualondë
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: A short snippet set between Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 of Into The West
Word Count: 1075
Note: I don't think I've posted this anywhere, so happy Sunday.
It was well after midnight when Ecthelion heard the familiar tread on the stairs. He hadn’t been expecting it, in truth. He’d hoped, perhaps, but nothing more. He hadn’t dared.
The knock was as gentle and discreet as taking the stairs two at a time had been impatient.
Ecthelion opened the door slowly, torn between excitement and dread.
There was nothing but relief on Laurefindil’s face when he came into view – though that faded quickly into something more hesitant.
“Thel?” he asked uncertainly.
Ecthelion waved him inside, and closed the door behind him. Whatever was to be said, there was no need to make a scene in public. They’d managed to avoid scandal since the First Age, no need to spoil things now.
“I don’t understand,” Laurefindil said. “Why are you here of all places? I looked for you on the quay! When I didn’t see you there, I waited until I could slip away, and went to your parents’ house. But you weren’t there either.”
His mother must have steered Laurefindil right, though – or perhaps Laurë had remembered that passing mention one evening of an aunt who kept an inn?
“I did not imagine you would wish to explain my presence to your daughters - or to Elrond’s daughter, for that matter,” Ecthelion said stiffly.
He did not share that while he had not gone down to the waterfront to see their arrival, he had chosen a vantage point where he could see the ship come in.
He had known equal parts pleasure and pain at the sight of Laurë practically glowing as he pointed his parents out to his young daughters. He’d known full well that his beloved was the father of two, but to see the girls, and Laurefindil with them, a delighted and doting father, had been a fresh blow to his heart.
“I… did Eärendil not explain anything?” Laurefindil asked, looking first puzzled beyond belief, then slowly shading into worried. “He knows – he must. I mean, he sees all of Middle-earth!”
“Explain what?” Ecthelion asked sharply, refraining from pointing out the obvious – Prince Eärendil hadn’t even been sure of his own welcome, never mind anyone else’s.
“Thel,” Laurefindil said softly. “I am not bound to another. My heart may not be free, but it is still where it has been all these long-years.”
Ecthelion wasn’t sure whether to laugh or weep.
“But your daughters,” he began, only to be cut off as he was soundly kissed.
“Are only less disappointed than I not to have met you yet because I was careful to tell them I did not know for certain if you would be there to greet us,” Laurefindil informed him. “They have been hearing of you all their lives. They are puzzled, but no worse, that you were not present.”
“I do not understand,” Ecthelion told him softly. “You begot children! Surely that was not done lightly.”
If it was, he had no understanding of Laurë at all.
“It was not. Their mothers were daughters of Men, and bound to each other. They desired children, and for their children to share a father if possible.”
“And they had the nerve to ask you?” Ecthelion asked, frowning. The presumption!
“I offered, Thel,” his mate – his mate! – said gently. “There was little chance they would find a Man of any honor who could in good conscience assist them. The men of the Dunedain marry young in these later days – there were so few of them remaining they dare not wait. Some are promised while still children! The only alternative would have been Xander or Estel, and for either of those two, it would have been exceedingly awkward. Once I realized their problem, I told Tara and Willow I was happy to help, and to be as large or small a part of the children’s lives as they wished thereafter. It also had the happy benefit that their children would have the choice to sail if they wished, no small consideration with war looming.”
“What of the women?” Ecthelion asked cautiously.
“Both dead,” Laurë replied, his normally cheerful face for a moment drawn with grief. “Tara in an orc ambush some years ago, Willow in the War of the Ring.”
The grief is still very fresh for the girls. Nor are they the only ones.
Ecthelion was almost startled after so many years of silence to hear his mate’s thought. But he gleaned more from the thought – and the memories with it – than spoken words could have conveyed.
He pitied Eärendil afresh, left no choice but to watch grandchildren grieving from afar. (What’s more, he questioned young Prince Elrond’s wisdom leaving a child in Ennor in such a state.)
“After that, there was no question of leaving the girls in Ennor,” Laurë concluded. “It was unthinkable. They would have faded.”
He paused.
“Mother and Father adore them, of course. And the girls are thrilled to meet the kin they’ve only heard about until now. They’re eager to meet you, as well. They already think well of you. And I hoped that perhaps you might come in time to see them as ours, not mine alone...”
Ecthelion had considered many things, but not that his mate might have such an unheard of idea in mind. He also suspected that Laurë hadn’t adequately considered the problems of how they could in any propriety wed when there were underage children. Then again, when had the House of Finwë ever worried about such trifles?
“Tell me of them,” he said, trying to cover his confusion with honest curiosity.
“Califiriel I think you will find rather like you in temperament,” Laurë told him with a grin. “Tasariel is more of a handful, even when she’s not following Tindomiel headlong into mischief.”
“Takes after you, then?” Ecthelion asked drily.
Laurefindil managed to look outraged only for a second or two.
“Yes, I suppose that’s fair,” he laughed. “So will you come meet them?”
“Now?”
“No, I daresay we can have a bit of time to ourselves first,” Laurë snorted. “They’re sleeping. At least, Califiriel is sleeping and I very much hope Tasariel is. It was an exhausting day for them with all the excitement. Before you fret, I’m sure my mother will have at least one eye or ear, if not both, on them all the night. So the morning will be time enough – unless you’re hoping to see them at their absolute calmest, in which case by all means come along now.”
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: A short snippet set between Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 of Into The West
Word Count: 1075
Note: I don't think I've posted this anywhere, so happy Sunday.
It was well after midnight when Ecthelion heard the familiar tread on the stairs. He hadn’t been expecting it, in truth. He’d hoped, perhaps, but nothing more. He hadn’t dared.
The knock was as gentle and discreet as taking the stairs two at a time had been impatient.
Ecthelion opened the door slowly, torn between excitement and dread.
There was nothing but relief on Laurefindil’s face when he came into view – though that faded quickly into something more hesitant.
“Thel?” he asked uncertainly.
Ecthelion waved him inside, and closed the door behind him. Whatever was to be said, there was no need to make a scene in public. They’d managed to avoid scandal since the First Age, no need to spoil things now.
“I don’t understand,” Laurefindil said. “Why are you here of all places? I looked for you on the quay! When I didn’t see you there, I waited until I could slip away, and went to your parents’ house. But you weren’t there either.”
His mother must have steered Laurefindil right, though – or perhaps Laurë had remembered that passing mention one evening of an aunt who kept an inn?
“I did not imagine you would wish to explain my presence to your daughters - or to Elrond’s daughter, for that matter,” Ecthelion said stiffly.
He did not share that while he had not gone down to the waterfront to see their arrival, he had chosen a vantage point where he could see the ship come in.
He had known equal parts pleasure and pain at the sight of Laurë practically glowing as he pointed his parents out to his young daughters. He’d known full well that his beloved was the father of two, but to see the girls, and Laurefindil with them, a delighted and doting father, had been a fresh blow to his heart.
“I… did Eärendil not explain anything?” Laurefindil asked, looking first puzzled beyond belief, then slowly shading into worried. “He knows – he must. I mean, he sees all of Middle-earth!”
“Explain what?” Ecthelion asked sharply, refraining from pointing out the obvious – Prince Eärendil hadn’t even been sure of his own welcome, never mind anyone else’s.
“Thel,” Laurefindil said softly. “I am not bound to another. My heart may not be free, but it is still where it has been all these long-years.”
Ecthelion wasn’t sure whether to laugh or weep.
“But your daughters,” he began, only to be cut off as he was soundly kissed.
“Are only less disappointed than I not to have met you yet because I was careful to tell them I did not know for certain if you would be there to greet us,” Laurefindil informed him. “They have been hearing of you all their lives. They are puzzled, but no worse, that you were not present.”
“I do not understand,” Ecthelion told him softly. “You begot children! Surely that was not done lightly.”
If it was, he had no understanding of Laurë at all.
“It was not. Their mothers were daughters of Men, and bound to each other. They desired children, and for their children to share a father if possible.”
“And they had the nerve to ask you?” Ecthelion asked, frowning. The presumption!
“I offered, Thel,” his mate – his mate! – said gently. “There was little chance they would find a Man of any honor who could in good conscience assist them. The men of the Dunedain marry young in these later days – there were so few of them remaining they dare not wait. Some are promised while still children! The only alternative would have been Xander or Estel, and for either of those two, it would have been exceedingly awkward. Once I realized their problem, I told Tara and Willow I was happy to help, and to be as large or small a part of the children’s lives as they wished thereafter. It also had the happy benefit that their children would have the choice to sail if they wished, no small consideration with war looming.”
“What of the women?” Ecthelion asked cautiously.
“Both dead,” Laurë replied, his normally cheerful face for a moment drawn with grief. “Tara in an orc ambush some years ago, Willow in the War of the Ring.”
The grief is still very fresh for the girls. Nor are they the only ones.
Ecthelion was almost startled after so many years of silence to hear his mate’s thought. But he gleaned more from the thought – and the memories with it – than spoken words could have conveyed.
He pitied Eärendil afresh, left no choice but to watch grandchildren grieving from afar. (What’s more, he questioned young Prince Elrond’s wisdom leaving a child in Ennor in such a state.)
“After that, there was no question of leaving the girls in Ennor,” Laurë concluded. “It was unthinkable. They would have faded.”
He paused.
“Mother and Father adore them, of course. And the girls are thrilled to meet the kin they’ve only heard about until now. They’re eager to meet you, as well. They already think well of you. And I hoped that perhaps you might come in time to see them as ours, not mine alone...”
Ecthelion had considered many things, but not that his mate might have such an unheard of idea in mind. He also suspected that Laurë hadn’t adequately considered the problems of how they could in any propriety wed when there were underage children. Then again, when had the House of Finwë ever worried about such trifles?
“Tell me of them,” he said, trying to cover his confusion with honest curiosity.
“Califiriel I think you will find rather like you in temperament,” Laurë told him with a grin. “Tasariel is more of a handful, even when she’s not following Tindomiel headlong into mischief.”
“Takes after you, then?” Ecthelion asked drily.
Laurefindil managed to look outraged only for a second or two.
“Yes, I suppose that’s fair,” he laughed. “So will you come meet them?”
“Now?”
“No, I daresay we can have a bit of time to ourselves first,” Laurë snorted. “They’re sleeping. At least, Califiriel is sleeping and I very much hope Tasariel is. It was an exhausting day for them with all the excitement. Before you fret, I’m sure my mother will have at least one eye or ear, if not both, on them all the night. So the morning will be time enough – unless you’re hoping to see them at their absolute calmest, in which case by all means come along now.”
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Date: 2024-04-07 06:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-04-11 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-04-07 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-04-11 01:02 am (UTC)(Siccinng Miriel and Indis on them is coming...)
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Date: 2024-04-08 06:59 pm (UTC)That said, I truly enjoyed this snippet and thank you for sharing it.
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Date: 2024-04-11 01:02 am (UTC)