Many Journeys by Elleth

Freckles (or the Lack of Them)

Anairë has been watching Nerdanel for a long time. (Fluff of the femslashy variety).

They meet the first time in Anairë’s youth, when she’s apprenticed to a seamstress, and Nerdanel a homely country mouse under the lady Indis’ wing to help bedizen her for court and city. Her beauty takes some looking for, but once Anairë finds it – in her wise grey eyes, in the spatter of freckles across her face and breasts as she stands in her underdress for measuring, strong arms and calloused fingers – there is no unseeing it from that day onward.

When, on her wedding day, Nerdanel sits at the table’s head, resplendent in forest green silk and gold beryl, Anairë curls her hand in Nolofinwë’s, seeking to laugh and dance – it is a joyful day, but she was never keen on letting go, not even loves that were not really hers. And she loves Nolofinwë, too, with his own wise eyes, and she loves the children they are given – as she loves Nerdanel’s. Nearly sisters now (half-sisters, as their husbands would insist) they spend much time together, working against the feud, crafting in silence, or sometimes merely drinking tea together while the younger children, Findekáno first and foremost, hound Maitimo all through the gardens, and Tyelkormo teaches Irissë how to build a bow. Anairë leans her head on Nerdanel’s shoulder then, pressing a kiss onto her cheek and laughing, delighting in the freckles underneath her lips, and in Nerdanel’s lips twitching into an indulgent smile. But that is all for many years – when her marriage shatters Anairë tries to comfort. They dance on Manwë’s festival the day the darkness falls, and take refuge together, both deciding after long and harsh debates, that no, they will not leave – let the men depart and dash themselves to ruin. Their choice is a different one, though it hurts no less to stay behind.

“I have seen you watch me,” Nerdanel says that day, desperate to take her mind off the rebellion and the torches flickering through the street as people hurry down to swell the host, “for many years now, and do not think I am a stranger to such looks.” They sit huddled, shielded from the lightless cold with each other’s body heat and a single blanket wound around them both, nearly binding them together – and tangled as they are, Anairë does not even try to escape.

“Yes,” she admits. She has been watching Nerdanel indeed, ever since that first day at the boutique. It’s not nearly as hard to say aloud as she thought it would be.

“That is not what I meant, though I hold your confession dear,” Nerdanel answers. She picked her words deliberately. “I have, myself, been watching you for some time, and you have long become more to me than a member of my family. Your energy – at first it reminded me of Fëanáro’s, but yours never hurt me.” Her fingers, still as calloused as they always were, touch the space above Anairë’s heart.

“Am I to be a replacement for him, then?”

“Not any more than I would replace Nolofinwë for you.”

“Nolofinwë has no freckles,” Anairë says under her breath, but loud enough. In spite of the dark, both of them, after a moment’s stunned silence, dissolve into helpless laughter. 

Chapter End Notes

Written for hereff's request.