Love Unfulfilled in Dorthonion by Kaylee Arafinwiel

Love Unfulfilled in Dorthonion

“Aegnor,” Andreth sank to her knees beside the fallen pine upon which her love sat, stretching her hands out to him. “Beloved, I beg of thee, listen, I need thee. Thou knowest how we desire each other, and this love is true. Why should we not wed?”

Aegnor bowed his golden head, the flame of passion burning brightly in his eyes and – elsewhere in his body, though he willed Andreth not to see how much he hated to pain her. O Nerwen, my sister, other half of my fea, how I wish thou wert with me! He missed his twin dreadfully, though his brother Angrod perhaps understood him better than she. Still, a woman’s touch was required in such a delicate situation…and he knew what Nerwen would think of that. Delicate she was not. He gave himself a mental shake and refocused.

“Saelind,” he said softly. “I love thee, I would die for thee, but I cannot wed thee while the shadow of war looms over us. My kind do not bring forth children in such times. Do not ask of me what I cannot give.” He rose fluidly and hastily turned away.

“Cannot, or will not?” she cried. “Aegnor!” But he leaped lightly over the fallen tree and she knew, as he sped off, that she would never catch him. She turned and fled toward the swimming hole, where she could calm herself before returning to her father’s house.

Andreth ran so swiftly, so heedlessly, that she tripped over her brother Bregor, sending them both to the ground.

“Sister!” he cried, getting up. “Andreth, what troubles thee? Is it the Elf?”

“The Elf, as you say, is our lord, Brother,” Andreth replied bitterly, “here to order our comings and goings as he will. Father may be accounted Lord of Ladros, but what is that to the mighty Hir Aegnor, prince of the Lechenn?”

Bregor scowled. “He hurt thee, then. Rejected thy suit. More fool he. Aegnor the Mighty indeed – Aegnor the Elfling I would say.” He snarled an oath not at all suitable for his sister’s ears and spat on the ground. “I would take thee home at once. Father does not fare well.”

Learning that his eldest daughter had been relentlessly pursuing their Elven lord would not have sat well with Father, Andreth supposed. She sighed. “He hath taken another fit, then?”

Bregor nodded grimly. It had been, perhaps, two years since Lord Boromir had begun having these fits; it began as some device of the Enemy, he doubted it not. A fever which had near enough taken their father from them – he had recovered, but ever after been subject to infrequent spells where his body jerked and twitched like a man possessed of a curse. They tended to come upon him more often of late, ever since Andreth and Aegnor had caught each other’s eyes. “Mother and Beril are bathing him,” he said finally – a remark which made Andreth rather glad she had not gone to the swimming hole. “Come, let us go home.”

Brother and sister went home hand in hand, but when they reached the village, Beril met them at the door. “Mother is helping Father to bed,” she said quietly. “If he does not improve…he may make thee the next Lord soon, brother.”

Andreth paled, looking at Bregor, then back to their younger sister. “Dost thou think Father will…die?”

“Eventually,” Beril muttered, “we all will.” She raised her eyes to Andreth’s. “Please stop chasing after Lord Aegnor,” she implored her sister. “He will not cleave to thee. We all know this.”

“He wants to,” Andreth replied. “But for Father’s sake…and thine, brother,” she added, giving Bregor’s cheek a dutiful kiss, “I will stop.”

She would never give birth to Aegnor’s children – but it was better than burying her father just yet.

Chapter End Notes

In mine and Emma's headcanon, Aegnor and Galadriel (whom he always called by her mother-name in private) are twins.