Trinkets by Independence1776

Family

Míriel and Indis talk about their children. Set in our “Poetry” ‘verse, so Míriel/Indis/Finwë and Nerdanel/Fëanor. Triple drabble. Rated General.

Happy Birthday, Elleth!

Míriel joined Indis on the balcony overlooking the bustling square beneath the Mindon, wrapping an embroidered wool shawl about her shoulders against the cold wind whipping down from the mountains. Indis put an arm around her waist and drew her down next to her on the bench. Míriel peered through the stone railing at the couple sitting on the central fountain’s wide marble edge, oblivious to everything around them, and smiled. “We never do anything conventional, do we?”

Indis chuckled. “Fëanáro is our son. And the heir marrying a commoner is less controversial than what we did.”

Míriel peered up at her wife. “They aren’t even engaged yet.” She glanced back down at Fëanáro and Nerdanel. “Though if he doesn’t ask soon, I think she will.”

Indis kissed her cheek. “Finwë will be ecstatic either way. You know how he feels about children. And with how those two behave, I wouldn’t doubt we’ll see our first grandchild as soon as it won’t cause scandal.”

“Speaking of children…”

“I decided to wait and Finwë agreed,” Indis said. “This is Fëanáro’s time of joy; I don’t want to overshadow it.”

“But after?”

Indis nuzzled Míriel’s neck. “After.”

Míriel pulled away. “Not in public.” She nestled against Indis’ side again. “I came out here to tell you that we’re having an early supper tonight. Between Olwë’s visit next week and the mess with the tanners’ guild--”

“I’m surprised we even have time for a sit-down meal.”

Míriel snorted. “Finwë insisted. And I need to wrangle Fëanáro into attending. Between his work in the forges and his courtship, Findis and Nolofinwë haven’t seen enough of their brother recently.”

“Just invite Nerdanel. He’ll have no choice then.”

Míriel laughed. That was a wonderful solution. “I shall.”

She kissed her wife and went to do so.