Hidden Gems by eris_of_imladris

Chapter 1

“I do not know,” Nerdanel said, twining her fingers together.

“How can you not know?” Fabric rustled as Sidhel, an old friend of Nerdanel’s, combed through her closet. “He invited you to this ball, and you said yes, how can you not know if you like him?”

“Of course I like him, but I do not know if I love him,” Nerdanel replied. The very word made a shiver run down her spine for all the wrong reasons. She was Fëanáro’s friend – she even liked to think she was a close friend – but she knew that there was a great social divide between them. She was on par socially with the boy who served as her father’s apprentice, but when that boy put on royal robes and was called High Prince, certain things had to change.

It was for the best to protect herself. It was the wiser choice to not let herself think about reasons why he might have invited her on this of all occasions. The ball had been organized for a state visit of King Ingwë, who she had never met, but she had heard enough of his niece Indis, Fëanáro’s stepmother, to know that he was feeling
miserable about the occasion to welcome the Vanyar into his home. No doubt, he had only invited her to insult Indis by repudiating some Vanyarin girl chosen as a partner for him. She would be a fool to think anything more.

“Here it is,” Sidhel exclaimed, pulling the light blue fabric and shaping it. “It looks a bit darker than your crystals, but it should do.”

“It is still as beautiful as the last time I saw it,” Nerdanel said with a smile. “Thank you for lending it to me.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sidhel replied. “I am more excited that you are going out in it, and to the greeting ball, no less.”

“I had not expected to be invited,” she said honestly, hurrying to try it on. “Nor to have a reason to borrow something of yours.”

“This is a big occasion, Nerdanel, you never know who you may meet there,” Sidhel smiled. “Perhaps the prince will even be interested in dancing with you.”

“With all the fairest Vanyarin maidens present? I doubt he would even notice me,” she said honestly. Yes, Fëanáro hated Indis, but he was not immune to beauty, and surely the visiting delegation would include
all of Ingwë’s fairest cousins and nobles and acquaintances. What was her mop of unruly red hair against their perfect blonde waves? Even Fëanáro’s little half-sister had the gorgeous Vanyarin hair, and Nerdanel knew herself to be uglier than this girl who was little more than a baby.

“Well, you will have the mystery nér who invited you,” Sidhel said with a wink. “He must like you if he made you these gems, yes? No nér has ever made gems for me.”

“You have never had a smith and jeweler as a suitor,” Nerdanel laughed.

“Is he truly a suitor?” Sidhel leaned in as she pinned back a section of the skirt. “Has he made any overtures?”

“Not yet, and I do not think he will,” Nerdanel said. Sidhel’s mouth opened again, and Nerdanel cut her off. “I am sure he sees me as little more than a friend. He knows many nissi… many beautiful nissi. He would not wish to be more than a friend when they are around.”

She had, in fact, never seen him around other nissi. Most of the other apprentices were male, and on their travels together, they had always spent more time in remote locations than large cities. She knew he was
kind to her, but she also knew that his life at home was often more of a burden than a joy, and he was more than likely going to be concerned with the political implications of his every word all night. For all
their friendship at the forge, she knew there was a great chance she would be left alone on the sidelines at the royal court.

But Fëanáro had silenced any mentions of her insecurity, and he suddenly got so busy at the forge that she scarcely saw him. Until three days after he issued his invitation, when she had found a neatly wrapped box with no note atop it, tucked in with her tools at her studio.

Inside the box, nestled in velvet, lay a thin silver circlet with an uncut crystal in the center, the filaments picking up its color of the lightest blue, the sheen of palest ice. A necklace with more uncut, pale crystals dotting the silver lining rested inside. The crystals were unusual, like nothing she had ever seen before, and yet they
offered a certain beauty against the colors of her skin and hair.

Only when she had picked up the pieces, dainty and delicate but sturdier than they looked, did she notice a small piece of parchment underneath. Upon it rested only two words: Trust Me...