Like a Shadow of Shifting Silver by Kimberleighe

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Chapter 6: Bonfires & divination

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                They followed the storm south to Finwë’s sea-palace, allowing them no respite from the thick drizzle of rain and fog that blanketed the coast.  By the time they arrived at the residence, Anairë had ceased to be amused by the relentless damp.  Aracáno, ever-prepared, had lent her his cloak to protect her from some of the rain, but now it hung heavy and sodden around her shoulders.  She dismounted and sharply regarded the two men who ran from the nearby stable to receive their horses.  As if sensing her ill mood, Aracáno quickly issued orders to their horses’ care.  When his arm slipped around her shoulders to steer her towards the house, she resisted, frowning at him and unnaturally irritated by his action.  He sighed, hands resting on his hips as he glared at her.

                “Do you plan to stand in the rain?” he asked.

                “No, but I do not intend to be dragged around.”  She began to walk towards the palace.

                “Dragged?”  He returned her frown.  “I’ll show you dragged.”

In a moment, he had hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her like she weighed no more than Russo.  Anairë half-heartedly pounded a few fists against his back in protest.

                “You’ll never get away with this, Nolo,” she threatened.

                “I think we both know I will,” came his unconcerned response.

He deposited her on the top step under the overhang.  Anairë pushed back the hood, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at him.  When the laughter and merriment of their friends inside drifted out to them, a sudden sense of anxiety pressed her chest, as if she wore a sign that revealed Aracáno held more than a little piece of her heart.  He stepped onto the bottom step, so they were the same height.

                “Should I fear your retribution?” he asked, compelling her full attention.  She heard a challenge in his voice.

Anairë leaned towards him, pushing past their usual closeness to a more intimate place.  Their foreheads nearly touched.  It was intriguing to watch his response.  He remained still, projecting a sense of ease, but his eyes grew dark and flitted between her eyes, the space behind her, to the side of her, and her lips.  When her hand slipped to his shoulder, his gaze halted on her face.  She softly pressed her lips against his cheek, trying not to smirk at the discovery of her newfound power.

                “Yes,” she answered in a whisper near his ear.

When she slipped back, she saw his smile matched hers. 

                “I do not fear you,” he mumbled.

He stole her breath away, boldly pressing a kiss to her lips.  It was then she grudgingly realized he too had noticed his new influence over her.  She held onto his shoulder, unwilling to let him go.  So one kiss melted into another and the tentative exploration continued.  A loud shriek of laughter, probably Irimë’s, caused them to break apart.  Anairë pressed her lips together and idly smoothed his damp tunic.  She needed to look at him, to be sure of his expression, but she found herself unnaturally nervous.  Her stomach fluttered anxiously; her heart beat fast.   A steady drip of water from the roof awkwardly counted out the passing moments. 

                “That does not forgive you, Nolo,” she finally said, forcing herself to look at him.

There was a sense of relief in expression when she spoke.  He stepped up the stairs to stand beside her.

                “I would be concerned if it did,” he replied, his arm again slipping around her shoulders to steer her towards the door.  This time she did not resist.  “Inside, Ana.  You’re shivering.”

They barely passed the threshold before Arafinwë rushed from another room, dry and resplendent in gold and white.

                “Finally!  You’re back!” he announced. 

Eärwen appeared beside him, obviously relieved to see the couple.  A few members of the household staff bustled in, taking stock of the soaked couple and disappearing, most likely in search of towels.

                “I worried Ossë had swept you both away in his rage.”  She moved to embrace Anairë and then stopped short, lips pursing as she realized Anairë’s damp state. 

Anairë took a teasing step towards Eärwen.  Eärwen immediately threw up her hand, refusing to allow Anairë any closer.

                “Ossë would not keep her, no matter how I begged,” Aracáno replied.

 Arafinwë laughed loudly, clapping his brother’s shoulder.  Anairë’s glare had little effect on Aracáno, and she found her crossness fade with each moment spent staring at him.  When her gaze briefly drifted to his lips, the knowing gleam in his eyes caused a flush to spring to her cheeks.  Arafinwë cleared his throat, abruptly reminding them of his presence.  He watched them with narrowed eyes; Aracáno met his brother’s stare with indifference.

                “I am glad he did not listen to you, Nolo.”  Eärwen took a towel from a waiting attendant, draping it around Anairë’s shoulders as she steered her friend further indoors.  The sons of Indis followed, talking quietly between themselves.  “Hurry and get changed.  If I smell correctly, dinner is nearly finished,” Eärwen said softly.  “I’m glad you’re back.  I have much to tell you.”

                “Then tell me,” Anairë ordered, instantly intrigued.

Eärwen shook her head, pointing down the hall.

                “Go and change, but I have claimed you for my own this evening.  Nolo will have to do without you.”

Anairë kissed her friend’s cheek fondly and traversed the halls to her rooms.  She noted the steaming bath with a grateful smile.  After sleeping on the beach, sand had found its way into the most unfortunate of places.  She piled the borrowed tunic and leggings with her undergarments, before stepping into the warm water with a sigh.  The tub was large enough that she could stretch out and submerge her head.  She closed her eyes, relaxing completely and ignoring everything else.  It was easy to forget all her anxieties and misgivings, to let them expand and bloat until they dissipated like the soapy bubbles skimming the surface. 

When she finally exited the tub and dried off, she was sure the dinner meal had already finished.  Her hair hung damp and long down her back.  She’d wrestled the tangles from her tresses, so they gleamed dark and smooth in the candlelight.  She paused beside the dining room, catching sight of a familiar blonde head.  Silmalírë’s eyes lit up when she caught sight of Anairë.

“So you are back,” Silmalírë greeted her with a kiss.  “Nolofinwë told us he left you in some dark sea cave.  Poor Sorniswë cannot decide whether to believe him or not.”

“My noble cousin!”  Anairë laughed, shaking her head.  “Where is everyone?”

“Outside, the men created fire,” Silmalírë sighed, rolling her eyes playfully.  “You would think they had uncovered the mystery of life.”

Anairë laughed harder, and they made their way out to the blazing bonfire.  She spied her cousin and waved to him.  Immediately, Aracáno and Arafinwë were snickering like mischievous boys; Sorniswë’s glare at them was fierce and stern.  He marched towards Anairë, the frown unnatural on his face.

                “Ana, I am glad to see you.”  Sorniswë swept her up with a smile. 

                “I heard I had been left in some- what was it- dark, sea cave?”  Anairë replied once her feet were firmly on the ground.

                “That was the story.  I did not believe it, Cousin.”  Sorniswë lowered his voice, glancing at Aracáno who was well within earshot.  “Though I’d be wary if Nolo asks to take you North.  He might leave you in the Ice.”

                Aracáno immediately protested, slinging an arm over Sorniswë’s shoulders.  Their playful argument descended into a wrestling match.  Anairë stepped past them, easily finding Eärwen sitting on the sand with Arafinwë.  The Princess of the Teleri quietly watched the waves, her head resting in the curve of Arafinwë’s shoulder.  Anairë wavered between interrupting them, catching the tender kiss Arafinwë pressed to Eärwen’s hair. 

                “Ingo, stop your flirting and come here.  I’ve got your brother in a head lock,” Sorniswë yelled impatiently.

Arafinwë barely wavered, pushing to his feet and running towards the wrestling men.  Anairë took his spot beside Eärwen, watching the long, black shadows stretch and fight on the white beach.

                “I swear, they are children, Ana,” Eärwen sighed.  “Ingo included.”

                “Did you really think he was any different?” Anairë leaned her shoulder against Eärwen’s.

                “Walk with me?” the princess whispered.  “I feel I will shatter into a thousand pieces if I do not speak to you, and soon.”

                “Dear Eru, Eärwen, I will not be responsible for piecing you back together.”  Anairë rose to her feet quickly.

                The two ladies left the bonfire far behind them, strolling arm-in-arm on the beach. 

                “Speak, Eärwen, and quickly.  You are making me worried,” Anairë said softly, once they could not even see the flames of the fire.

All of her concern faded when she caught Eärwen’s beaming smile. 

                “Oh, Ana.”  Eärwen danced away from her towards the white foam water.  “I am unbelievably happy, but Ingo made me promise to not-”

                “He is going to speak to your father.”  Anairë crossed her arms over her chest with a smirk.

Eärwen stopped her dancing.  She sighed irritably, her hands going to her hips accusingly.  The waves knocked against her ankles, but Eärwen barely noticed the caresses.

                “Did Nolo tell you?”

                “No, Eärwen.  I am not blind,” Anairë replied, approaching Eärwen.  “But, I cannot be happier for you.”

Eärwen’s expression returned to its former gaiety as she hugged Anairë.  Then she moved just as quickly away, resuming her dancing.  In a bright blue dress, her quick movements reminded Anairë of a little bird flitting through the endless sky.  With a laugh, Anairë joined Eärwen’s happy dance, caught completely up in her friend’s delight.

                After they poured all their energy into laughter and silly pirouettes, they collapsed and sat on the beach facing each other.   

                “When does Arafinwë intend to speak with your father?” Anairë piled sand on Eärwen’s foot absently.

                “Does it matter?” Eärwen sighed happily.

Anairë rolled her eyes at her infatuated friend, though a smile played around the edges of her lips.  She drew her bottom lips between her teeth, internally debating over whether she should share the happenings of her sea-cave adventure.  Thankfully, Eärwen was chattering, more to herself than Anairë.

                “Atar will surely say yes.  Then we shall have to wait until after the Games when Ingo celebrates his coming of age.  Oh, but fie!  Finwë is adamant about Findis marrying first.” She paused, whether to catch her breath or think, Anairë could not tell.  When she continued, Anairë tuned her out, focusing on her own thoughts.  Perhaps it was wiser to keep it secret.  Scarcely a day had passed, and Anairë was not keen on seeming as infatuated as Eärwen.  Then it struck her that Aracáno might mention something to Arafinwë, who in turn could keep nothing from his lady.  It would never do to have Eärwen hear it from someone else. 

                “Eärwen,” Anairë began tentatively.

The hesitance in her voice drew Eärwen’s attention.  She gazed at Anairë impassively, before her eyes narrowed.

                “Tell me now.”  Usually it was Anairë demanding a confession from Eärwen; the words seemed strange in Eärwen’s voice.

Anairë looked away for a moment, inwardly berating herself for being so easily read.  Eärwen shifted to sit on her knees closer to Anairë.  She took Anairë’s hands, turning them over to gaze at the palms.

                “Shall I unmask your confession?” she asked, half-teasing.  Her index finger traced the lines of Anairë’s left palm.  Usually Anairë would scoff at the Telerin belief that their hands told the tales of their lives.  Tonight, she remained silent, allowing Eärwen to softly sing and murmur the Telerin words of revelation.  “Interesting, you’ve recently made a life-changing decision.”

Anairë remained impassive when Eärwen glanced at her to ascertain the truth to that statement.  It was too vague an explanation to be an insight, yet her heart still pounded loud in her ears.

                “Oh?” Eärwen gasped, her smile wide as she trailed a single finger over a crease on Anairë’s palm.  Anairë fought the urge to close her hand when it tickled.  “It is a decision of the heart.  I cannot discern the level of intimacy, of friend or suitor.  It seems blurred.”

Anairë drew her hand away from Eärwen as if burned.  The two women stared at each other; Anairë rubbed her palm.  It tingled in a memory of Eärwen’s touch.

                “So what is it, Anairë?  Friend or suitor?  And why haven’t you told me you were interested in some man?  Is it a man?” Eärwen demanded, her questions quick as arrows.

                “Eärwen.”  Her voice sounded weak as if left her mouth.  “I intend to be courted.”

Eärwen drew in a surprised breath, her complete astonishment plain on her face. 

                “By whom, Ana?”  Her excitement was thinly veiled.

                “Nolo.”

                For the first time, Eärwen was struck speechless.  She blinked and breathed, but said nothing, which worried Anairë.

                “Say something, Eärwen.”

                “I cannot believe he finally spoke to you.”  Eärwen hugged Anairë tightly. 

                “You knew?”

                “Of course.  Ingo was attempting to nonchalantly inquire as to whether you and Telparyon—”

                “Telparyon?  Blessed Eru, no!  Your brother is more vain than you,” Anairë interrupted with a frown.

                “I would be offended, were it not true,” Eärwen sniffed.  “That’s beside the point.  Ingo attempted his inquiries and I, with my sweet charms, uncovered who desired to know that information.”

                “He spoke with my father already,” Anairë admitted. 

                “That does not surprise me.  Neither of you are apt to change your mind once it is made.”  Eärwen took Anairë’s hands again, forcing her to rise so they could begin their trek back towards the bonfire.  “I cannot express how happy I am for you both.  When did he finally tell you?”

Suddenly, Anairë found herself honestly detailing the past month to Eärwen.  It was liberating, to finally pour out a month’s worth of indecisive fretting, followed by the details of their cave adventure.  Eärwen listened with an infuriatingly smug half-smile, interrupting only once or twice with a sigh or exclamation.

                “There you both are!”

                Arafinwë must have been keeping an eye out for their return.  He approached them confidently.  Anairë caught the gentle softening of Eärwen’s face, the blush that barely kissed her cheeks, and the special smile that played on the edges of her lips.  Eärwen placed her hand in Arafinwë’s without a word, allowing herself to be drawn away.  Eärwen paused suddenly, glancing at Anairë as she realized they had not completely finished their conversation.

                “We’ll talk later,” Anairë assured her.

The three joined the circle of merriment.  Findis had a lyre and, to roaring laughter, was singing a highly irreverent ballad about a horse and its lord.  As always, a spot had been left empty beside Aracáno.  She slipped beside him, her shoulder nudging against him familiarly.  His arm fell intimately around her shoulders.

                “Did Eärwen tell you?” he murmured close to her ear amid the loud laughter.

Anairë nodded with a wide smile, leaning in close so their conversation remained private. 

“Will he wait for your father, or take you to speak with Olwë?”

                “He and I will go.  He already sent a bird back to Atar detailing his intentions.  I assume Atar will grant me some leniency so I do not have to report back to Tirion’s council next week,” he answered.  “Stay with me?  Irimë will go to Alqualondë, and I refuse to be left alone with my enamored siblings and their ladies.” 

                “That would be terrible,” she agreed.  “I suppose I can write to Atar and ask if he would continue caring for Lintaráto.”  She caught the subtle change of expression and raised a brow.  “Unless you have already done that for me?”

                “You took an obnoxiously long bath,” he replied.

Anairë chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

                “Well, it seems I must stay since you’ve given me no choice,” she looked up at him.

                “You act as if you ever had a choice.” He regarded her warmly.

She threw her head back and laughed freely.

                “The day you allow me no choice will be a difficult day indeed for you,” she said.

                “That I do not doubt that, Ana.” 

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Chapter End Notes

Characters/Notes:

Finwë: King of Tirion and the Noldor; husband to Indis and father of many children.

Anairë: also called Ana; daughter of Sartion and Nénuilsë.

Aracáno: also called Nolo or Nolofinwë; middle son of Finwë; second born of Indis.

Irimë: third child of Finwë and Indis.

Arafinwë: also called Ara, Ingo or Ingalaurë; youngest son/child of Finwë and Indis.

Eärwen: only daughter of Olwë and Elenetyë; princess among the Teleri.

Silmalírë: Findis’ partner; poet/singer; Vanya.

Sorniswë: cousin of Anairë and son of Alyalótë; closest friend of Arafinwë.

Findis: eldest child/daughter of Finwë and Indis; once studied under Estë.

Rilyendë: friend of Anairë’s; daughter of a smith.

Telparyon: eldest son of Olwë and Elenetyë, and brother to Eärwen.  High-prince of Alqualondë.

Veryómo: second son of Olwë and Elenetyë, and brother to Eärwen.