The Chief in a Village by Himring

Bonus ficlet: The small rain down can rain

A glimpse of Fingon with a very young Gil-galad.
And of Gil-galad, remembering.

No warnings.

The wind drives the rain into the room. Fingon closes the shutters and returns to his desk. On the desk: a stack of reports and the box containing Maedhros's letters. Beside Fingon's chair: Ereinion's cradle. Fingon sits down again. Before he begins to read, his foot gently sets the cradle rocking. During the third report, Ereinion gets restless. Fingon picks him up and carries him around the room in his arms, singing a soothing song about rain.

I recognize that song! Father sang it to me, says Ereinion. He realizes it is also a love song and begins to wonder...

Chapter End Notes

The prompt "arms"  had reminded me of the lyrics of an old English song that I am fond of (and that has inspired me on other occasions). The title is taken from it as well.

Westron wynde, when wilt thou blow,
The small raine down can raine.
Cryst, if my love were in my armes
And I in my bedde again!

(This is apparently the oldest version of the lyrics. There are also slightly different versions out there.)

Originally written for Tolkien Weekly as fixed-length (100 words) and also posted independently on AO3 (where I rated it Gen).