Mothers and Daughters by oshun

Fanwork Information

Summary:

Just a scrap of not much of anything. For a Femslash Friday submission. Not very slashy even under a microscope. But if I say it is, it is. The requirements are actually flexible. Women liking women is sufficient. (Birthday girl, Zeen, I hope you do not think I am a cheapskate for doubling up a ficlet for you into a challenge entry!)

Major Characters: Anairë, Aredhel, Eärwen, Finrod Felagund, Galadriel

Major Relationships:

Artwork Type: No artwork type listed

Genre: General, Slash/Femslash

Challenges: Strong Women

Rating: General

Warnings:

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 268
Posted on 17 May 2013 Updated on 17 May 2013

This fanwork is complete.

Mothers and Daughters

Elvish names/nicknames/words used:

Galadriel - Nerwen, Artanis
Aredhel - Írissë
mother - Amil

Read Mothers and Daughters

“You look wonderful,” Anairë said, in that husky voice of hers, thrillingly deep for a woman. Galadriel had tried hard at times to imitate it, until Finrod had noticed and started teasing her.

She looked at her mother, trying to view her through Anairë’s eyes. Nothing new to see there. Just Amil—such a nice face, but prettier than it was beautiful. The main difference Galadriel could identify since Anairë had last seen them was that Eärwen had been bronzed by the sun and her silver hair bleached whiter still, making her look a little older and perhaps scrawnier. But first and foremost, she was Amil and that alone made her infinitely dearer and lovelier than anyone else in the world.

Eärwen laughed. The timbre of her voice had relaxed, taking on a more youthful pitch. She was truly happy to see Anairë, or perhaps the time away from Tirion had been good for her.

“I’m burnt as brown as nut,” she insisted. “Too much time on the beach. The air and the water were marvelous. Next year I am dragging you and Írissë along with us. Nerwen was inconsolable without her favorite cousin.” She swiveled at the sound of a slammed door. “Oh! Here she is now!”

Aredhel clattered into the parlor knocking into a table, catching a vase before it hit the floor, a shocking mess of flyaway dark hair, dirty boots, her bedraggled white dress streaked with mud and grass stains. Glorious!

“Hey, Artanis!” A toothy grin split her face from ear to ear. “So glad you’re finally back! I have so much to tell you.”


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