All Hues and Honeys by Dawn Felagund

Dispossessed

Nerdanel learns of her connection to Elrond Peredhel. For Middle-earth Olympics instadrabbling, a pair of drabbles using the prompt sets miss mountain bay nineteen and symmetrical, bread, ribbon, fall.

I.

Nineteen leagues and the Pelóri to cross. Nerdanel wasn't wrong to feel exhausted contemplating such a journey. She'd taken not even one step past her doorway. She'd never understood sea longing--it was the mountains she missed--but this weariness wasn't a lack of sea-longing. (And she'd never been normal, never like other Elves.)

But the Peredhel was arriving in Eldamar Bay. She had to take a step, then many more. She had to be among the dignitaries who would greet him.

Dignitaries who all shared some connection to him. She didn't.

Dispossessed shall ye be.

Exhaustion towered, but she stepped forth.

II.

Ribbons fluttered in the breeze off the bay. Bunting for each royal house. (But not hers.) Buffets piled with fruit and cheese and bread.

There went Arafinwë, then Olwë, to greet Elrond Peredhel. There was a certain symmetry to the way they bowed, clasped hands, spoke in gentle, detached terms of long-past allegiances once the linchpin of victory or fall.

I need only imitate them, Nerdanel consoled herself, though what to say? I'm sorry my sons drove your mother into the sea?

But when she approached, bowed, her chin knocked his shoulder? He was embracing her?

"For my foster-father. Macalaurë.