Beneath the Willow Tree by grey_gazania

Beneath the Willow Tree

Read Beneath the Willow Tree

Irissë was curled up in a chair in the sitting room, reading a book on the Great Journey and ignoring the sound of her brother pacing overhead, when someone began rapping sharply on the door.

“Irissë, can you get that?” Findekáno called.

She put her book down with a sigh. “I'm coming,” she said as she neared the door. She yanked it open with a huff, but her irritation changed quickly to surprise when she saw Elenwë standing on the steps. Her horse, Tinwë, stood unsaddled on the lawn a few strides away.

“We're going riding, Irissë,” Elenwë said. “Come on.”

Irissë looked her up and down. Her long, golden hair was loose and windblown, she wore no cloak or shoes, and dust coated the hem of her dress, cut high to accommodate her swelling stomach.

“Right,” she said. “Give me 30 seconds.” Ducking back inside, she hurriedly tied her hair back and shoved her boots on. As she laced them up, she shouted up the stairs, “Káno! I'm going riding with Elenwë – not sure when we'll be back!”

“Irissë,” Findekáno shouted back, clearly peeved, “you said you'd be home today! I wanted to--”

Whatever he'd wanted to do was lost as she left the room, pulled the kitchen door shut behind her, and jogged the few yards to the stable. Nórimo champed and pawed at the straw when he saw her. “Ready for a good hard ride, boy?” she asked, rubbing his nose. “I don't think Elenwë is planning a trip to the market.” She looked at his saddle and bridle on the wall as she unlatched his stall, shrugged, and led him out bare before mounting up.

“Ammë would have fits if she saw that,” she said when she reached the front of the house, pointing to the fish pond. “Good thing she's not home.”

Elenwë followed her finger and saw Tinwë drinking placidly as the fish darted to and fro around her nose. “Oh dear,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth as she blushed. “I didn't even notice!”

Irissë laughed. “It's all right. But let's go before Káno decides to come after us.”

Elenwë nodded and mounted Tinwë, and they headed out of the city.

 

***

 

“Race you to the willow,” Elenwë challenged, once they had reached the hills outside of Tirion.

“You're on,” Irissë said, leaning forward over Nórimo's neck with a broad grin.

The horses thundered over the hills to Irissë's favorite tree, a great, sweeping willow whose boughs drooped all the way to the ground, creating a perfect screen for whomever chose to sit beneath it. She had spent many afternoons there with her cousins and, more recently, her sister-in-law, who had turned out to be wilder than she seemed at first glance.

Glancing to the side, Irissë saw that Elenwë was beginning to pull ahead. “Wow, look at that!” Irissë cried, pointing to a random spot in the air.

“What?” Elenwë craned her neck, looking around wildly for whatever Irissë had noticed, and Irissë took advantage of her distraction to urge Nórimo forward with a whoop.

“Hey!” Elenwë shouted behind her as she reached the tree, “you cheated!”

“You fell for it!” Irissë said, laughing. She swung to the ground and gave Nórimo a pat on the neck, letting him loose to graze.

Elenwë stuck out her tongue as she, too, dismounted, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. Flopping onto the ground, she let out a deep sigh. “It's so nice to be able to breathe,” she said. “I was going crazy in that house. I feel like no one has anything to do but fuss over me these days.”

“It's that bad?” Irissë asked, lying on her stomach beside her sister-in-law. She reached over and began to play with a few strands of Elenwë's hair.

Elenwë smiled at her touch. “They can't agree on anything – your mother tells me to eat beans, my mother tells me to eat lots of spinach but no meat, Meldalossë says spinach and beans are good but that I shouldn't avoid meat, and Turvo treats me like I'll break if anyone so much as looks at me oddly.”

“Small wonder you're so stressed.”

“And the worst bit--” Elenwë stopped, blushing furiously, and said quickly, “You can't tell anyone I said this.”

Irissë nodded solemnly. “You know I won't.”

“I know,” Elenwë acknowledged. “But the worst bit – the worst bit is that we've done nothing more than kiss since I told him I was pregnant!”

“You've-- wait, why?” Irissë stared. “He's crazy about you! What is he worried about?”

“He's terrified that we'll hurt the baby somehow if we do anything,” Elenwë snorted. “It's ridiculous.” She rolled onto her side so she could look up at Irissë's face. “I even thought about asking Meldalossë to tell him that it's nonsense! But she's so stern – I'd be embarrassed. And I don't know that he would listen to her. She is very close to your uncle's family.”

“That should be a good thing, shouldn't it?” Irissë asked, reaching over and rubbing Elenwë's shoulders. Elenwë relaxed under her hands, and Irissë smiled. “Meldalossë's overseen sixteen pregnancies just between Miriel, Haruni, Ammë, and Aunt Nerdanel, and at least a dozen more outside the family. She knows what she's doing.”

Elenwë was silent for a moment. “Turvo-- look, you can't repeat this to anyone, either,” she finally said. “Turvo is really worried about your uncle. He's afraid that Fëanáro is going to try to do your father harm, and maybe the rest of your family as well. And I don't want him to start thinking he can't trust Meldalossë to take care of me.”

“Uncle Fëanáro wouldn't do that,” Irissë said, with more confidence than she felt. “He wouldn't dare.”

Elenwë snorted. “I don't think there's anything he wouldn't dare if he thought it would serve a purpose. He frightens me, Irissë. Even you can't deny that he's been volatile lately.”

“No,” she said, quietly. “You're right. And – well, I haven't seen Curvo much, now that he's married, but Tyelkormo has been odd as well. Evasive. More quick-tempered, too, and that's saying something. Even Káno and Maitimo had a fight a few days ago. I can't even remember them ever fighting before. But look,” she said, moving closer to Elenwë, “let's not talk about this now. We can't do anything about Uncle Fëanáro, but I can solve one of your other problems, if you want me to.”

“Oh?” Elenwë asked. “Which problem is that?”

In answer, Irissë leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

“Oh,” Elenwë said softly, looking up with wide grey eyes. Irissë's breath caught in her chest, and she caressed Elenwë's breasts through her dress.

“We don't have to,” she said, swallowing.

“No, I think I like this solution,” Elenwë whispered. She reached up and pulled Irissë closer for another kiss, loosening her hair from its tie.

When Irissë lifted Elenwë's skirt and slid her hand up between her thighs, Elenwë's soft moan seemed like the most glorious sound she'd ever heard.

 

***

 

“Feeling a bit better?” Irissë asked afterwards.

“I think so,” Elenwë said, laughing a little. They were sprawled beneath the tree, Elenwë's head resting on Irissë's stomach as Irissë deftly worked some of the tangles from Elenwë's hair. “Better enough that I can go home tonight and not feel like screaming. That's something.”

“We can always do this again,” Irissë said, trying to sound casual. “You know, if you start feeling too stressed.”

Elenwë reached up a hand and caught Irissë's fingers with her own. “I think,” she said, “that I'd like that very much.”

 

 

---

Chapter End Notes

A Quick Guide to Quenya Names

Irissë - Aredhel
Káno/Findekáno - Fingon
Turvo - a nickname for Turgon derived from his Quenya name (Turukáno) and based on the known pattern of Curufinwë -> Curvo and Telufinwë -> Telvo
Curvo - Curufin; see above
Tyelkormo - Celegorm
Maitimo - Maedhros
Ammë - mother, i.e. Anairë
Haruni - grandmother, i.e. Indis