Embers by Elleth

Nerdanel and Fëanor: Burned

Towards their estrangement. One occurence among many. An attempt at a portrait of their relationship. (Si07)

Nerdanel slept.

Her body still posed, hair and sheets carefully arranged to hide pale skin beneath, the picture she made would meet only the barest definition of decency in Tirion. A green dress lay crumpled at her feet and one hand rested on her belly to caress the unborn children.

The room was silent save for the scratch-scratch of charcoal, harsh breaths indrawn whenever a stroke went awry. Smudged fingers tangled in his hair, tugged, left prints in red and black on his forehead. A rip, a rustle. A ball of paper hit the floor, rolled, stilled.

Scratch-scratch. Anew and hastier. Almost desperate. Rip. Rustle.

Were she awake, Nerdanel would have coaxed her husband into smiles and kisses by now, and whispered (even now never without a blush to her already reddened cheeks) a better use for passion than to spend it in anger. The imperfect sketch would be flung aside, for her to find, afterwards.

But now Nerdanel slept, and upon waking would find, in the empty room, only wisps of burned paper that a breeze had swept from the fireplace. She wept to see herself so charred by the flames... and knew what time would tell.