inundated with the fated thought of you by hanneswrites

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of growing things

“You know, I was almost certain it would be Findaráto I would be sculpting today, when Amarië commissioned me for this she didn’t mention that you would be the model,” Nerdanel takes her time, mapping out exactly where the next marks needed to be placed upon the marble. 

 

Lindómo stands on the pedestal in the middle of the room posing with a long spear in both of his hands, casually drawn diagonally across his body. He’s clearly trying very hard to appear natural and relaxed in his posture, as Nerdanel had bid him to at the beginning of the session, but the tense concentration in his brow gives him away. 

 

“She did not deign to mention to me that I would be modeling either,” Lindómo huffs. His smile stays firm and playful. He sways a bit on the stand and Nerdanel considers ending early for the day - she’s been working for nearly three hours straight and Lindómo had truly come unprepared to model for her today, he was likely both bored and at least somewhat fatigued at this point. She decides to continue on for at least a little while longer, until Lindómo begins to shift his weight every few moments, plainly growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked on.  

 

Nerdanel ends the session early, and Lindómo seems both distinctly apologetic and regretful at this decision. It’s not unusual for her to cut first sessions short, after all - many people who endeavor to model in this context seem to not know exactly what they’re signing themselves up for, so cutting the initial sitting short is an inevitability she usually plans for.  

 

“I’ll have to make it up to you next time,” Lindómo says, and though Nerdanel insists that this is not necessary, he only persists. 

 

“I’ve been told I’m a somewhat decent cook - I’ll bring lunch for both of us for the next sitting, if you’re amenable?” His grin is wide and bright, a nervous excitement lighting up his features. 

 

“That sounds…nice,” Nerdanel says, his enthusiasm inspiring a warm fondness in her. She smiles softly at him and he holds her gaze for a long moment before turning to head out of her studio.    

 

“Until next week, then,” Lindómo gives her a wave and rides off into the afternoon sunset. And Nerdanel is left feeling pleasantly content for the rest of the evening. 

 

 

Lindómo does, indeed, bring her lunch for the next session. They end up talking most of the afternoon, even after Nerdanel has finished the work she had planned for the day, until the sun starts to set and Lindómo bids her a seemingly reluctant farewell. Nerdanel offers him dinner at the end of their fourth session, and he accepts, smiling as bright as the mid-morning sun. The company is pleasant and the conversation is easy - something that Nerdanel has missed in recent years. It comes to a point where seeing Lindómo as he heads down to her workshop starts to warm her heart in a way she’s not quite sure she wants to examine. 

 

And yet - over time, they fall into more and more of a comfortable and familiar banter, and their meetings become the highlight of Nerdanel’s week. She is oddly disappointed when the statue is nearing its completion and finds herself extending the project by slowing down and drawing out the most intricate of details. At first, she’s not satisfied with the carving of the embroidery of the statue’s clothes so she invites Lindómo back for another couple sessions to get it right, and then she’s not happy with how the ends of the hair curve and that adds another month.  

 

Part of her feels bad for taking up so much of Lindómo’s time and for consistently delaying the delivery time she’s promised Amarië, but every time she sees Amarië, her friend assures her that it’s nothing to worry about. And Lindómo - he seems, at least, to genuinely enjoy her company. 

 

Until finally, the day comes when it’s truly finished and she can prolong the process no longer. Nearly 6 months have passed since they’d begun. The marble stands shining and perfect, meticulously carved down to even the smallest detail, ready to be wrapped up and shipped off to Amarië. 

 

The day before she’s due to deliver the statue, Nerdanel finds herself restless. She makes her way down to her studio with the intent of starting work on a new project. Only, when she moves past the statue, her eye catches a peculiar glint reflecting in the statue’s marble eye. She steps closer and finds a small speck of golden leaf stuck to the statue’s eye. Carefully, she brushes it away. She takes a moment to admire the fine lines of the statue’s face and the intricate curves of the braids she’d carved into its hair, tracing a fingertip over the statue’s cheekbone and quietly contemplating whether it needed to be sanded down just a little bit more.

 

Perhaps she could invite Lindómo over for just one more session, just to get it right--

 

Nerdanel closes her eyes and sighs, her hand falling to her side. Her heart beats just a bit more quickly in her chest, a steady nervousness building in her, but for what reason? She makes her way down from the pedestal and sinks down into her studio chair, her gaze focused once more on the statue that’s taken her nearly half a year to complete. It feels incomplete. She knows it’s not.   

 

Today would have been the day of their next session, if the project had not finished, and she knows that this is likely the reason she’s feeling restless. The last six months of consistent companionship have been nice, and it is only in disrupting that now established routine that she sees how much she’s come to miss that easy and consistent sort of intimacy with another person.

 

Nerdanel slumps back in her chair, sighing heavily. She needs to go out more. Maybe spend some more time with some of her old friends. Maybe --

 

She stops for a moment, listening as what sounds like a horse makes its way up the small dirt path to her small studio building. She’s definitely not expecting anyone and she’s certain she told Lindómo that their final session was last week…and yet - as she moves over to the window and peers out, he is there, dismounting from his horse.

 

And it dawns on her in that moment, as she takes in the sight of him walking up to her door. The single drop that breaks the surface tension. So different from how it had been the first time around - it almost hadn’t even occurred to her - and yet, looking back on it, it could not have been more obvious. 

 

The lingering looks, the fond warmth, the easy contentment that she felt around him - and her stubborn unwillingness to admit that she simply wanted to keep spending time with him, simply because she enjoyed his company, because she was unerringly endeared by his presence. 

 

Nerdanel hesitates in the doorway to her studio. There is a small thread of hope weaving its way through her as he gets closer and she cannot seem to stifle it, particularly as he grows close enough for her to catch the keen warmth in his eyes as he spots her. 

 

“The final session was last week, Lindómo.”   

 

“I know,” He says, and one of his hands comes up to show her a small picnic basket he’s carrying, “I thought since the statue has been finished, that you might have the afternoon free? And I was wondering if you’d like to go out riding together? Perhaps? If you’d like?”

 

She crosses the distance between them in one short, swift stride and stands before him, her eyes locked with his. Slowly, she takes one of his hands in her own and entwines their fingers together, watching his reaction very closely and carefully. Lindómo takes in a long, quick breath. His hand tightens over her own. A wave of relief washes over her and she pulls him closer. 

 

Lindómo leans into her touch, eyebrow arched mischievously, breath ghosting over her lips. He’s smiling, as he always seems to be, and she can’t seem to stop herself from pulling him down those last few centimeters into a quick, chaste kiss.

 

“I would, indeed, like that,” Nerdanel laughs softly as she gently rests their foreheads together.

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