Until the Stars No Longer Shine by Independence1776

Until the Stars No Longer Shine

Indis looked across the bonfire and caught Oromë's unnerving, gold-flecked, green eyes. She glanced away, to the north, calculating the time by the swing of the Ladle. No. The Sickle. That was what Oromë said the Ainur called it, as a warning to those who thrived in the dark.

Strange, to have a name known for hundreds of seasons overturned in an instant. But her brother had insisted that they stop using the name of their own devising and use instead the name of those who created it. Indis could not fault his reasoning, but a pang went through her all the same. How many children would be born who would never truly understand the old name? Would they understand at all if Valinor was as light-filled as Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë reported? She shook her head to clear it. Now was not the time for these thoughts.

She stood up and walked to the middle of the cleared circle, near the bonfire in its center, her newly embroidered skirt swishing around her bare ankles, leaving Ingwë and joining Míriel and Finwë. The crowd quieted and when only the sounds of fire, the forest, and the nearby river could be heard, they reached out and grasped hands, standing in a triangle so they could see each others' faces, their shadows dancing in the firelight.

Míriel licked her lips, her silver hair glinting orange in the firelight, and said, “Finwë and Indis, I take you to be my spouses until the stars no longer shine.” She paused and then said, “In Ilúvatar's name, I say this.”

Indis repeated the vow, though she did not hesitate over saying the addition. The three of them had agreed to it, hoping to make firm their stance about Ilúvatar and the Ainur. There were still so many of the Noldor-- and Elwë had reported such among the Lindar-- that still felt uncertain about the information Oromë had told the Eldar.

Finwë did the same and when he finished speaking, the three of them exchanged kisses. He then he gave them necklaces strung with the pendants he had carved that signified they were married. They clanked against each other as she slipped the leather cord over her head. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her spouses doing the same.

She took a deep breath, then another one, and began to sing the song she'd written for her spouses: joy and running brooks and the stars and open meadows to run in and love weaving the three of them together.

And then it was done and she couldn't remember what to do next. But Finwë took both their hands and led them to the flat-topped log set near the bonfire. They stood on it, backs to the flames, and Elwë brought a wooden cup of water that they all drank from before Finwë tossed it into the fire. Only then did the crowd begin speaking again and many of them came forward to congratulate them.

In the midst of the crowd, Indis spotted Oromë moving toward them and she nodded toward him when Finwë caught her eye. Shortly after that, he stood in front of the three of them, holding something in his left hand. “We congratulate you on your marriage. Please have these rings in symbol of our blessing.” He opened his hand and nestled in his tanned palm were three plain gold rings. He handed the largest to Finwë, the smallest to Míriel, and the last to Indis.

Finwë said, “We thank you for both the gift and the blessing.” He slipped the ring onto the index finger of his right hand. Indis and Míriel followed suit and after smiling at them, Oromë stepped back into the crowd.

Indis clenched her right fist against the unexpected feel of the metal ring. She had not anticipated anything from the Valar, not from the confusion Oromë had reported when they learned of the betrothal. Finwë, though, had a thoughtful expression on his face that he cleared when more people came forward. Míriel's face was carefully composed, but Indis knew full well that meant nothing.

Finally, after it seemed everyone in both the Minyarin and Noldorin clans had spoken to them, the three of them stepped off the log and sat down on it to share a cup of mead that Míriel's mother brought over to them while the musicians began playing. When Míriel reached over Finwë and passed it to Indis, their fingers brushed and Indis inhaled slightly. She passed the cup to Finwë, who drained it and set it down behind them. He studied the dancers kicking up sand and smiled. “I think it's time, don't you?”

Míriel's face lit up and she stood, nearly dragging Finwë to his feet. Indis stood a touch more sedately, but beat them both to the narrow path to the small clearing where Finwë's tent had been set up this evening for a touch of privacy. She stayed under the eaves of the forest, waiting for her spouses and occasionally glancing down the lantern-lit path, the lanterns swaying gently in the breeze from the limbs of the trees they were tied onto.

When they reached her, Míriel let go of Finwë's hand and took off running down the dirt path. Indis shouted and ran after her, passing her at the bend in the path and reaching the clearing just before her. Indis could here Finwë laughing behind them, the music from the continuing feast occasionally floating on the breeze.

When Míriel came to a stop before her, she rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss against Indis' lips. She grabbed her hands and stepped backwards toward the tent, stopping when she felt the rug placed under the awning in front of the entrance. They both dipped their feet into the bowl placed on the ground next to the rug and cleaned the dirt off of them. Then they entered the tent, the only light in it a lantern hanging from the central pole.

Míriel frowned and reached for a taper to light the other lanterns scattered on the poles. Indis let her, twisting the ring on her finger. Míriel had been right for them to marry now. If the Valar hadn't approved, better that the Eldar did not need to leave the land they were currently traveling to. And the Valar had approved, in the end. She sighed and dropped her left hand from the ring when Finwë entered the tent and tied the flap closed behind him. There would be time to discuss the Valar later.

The three of them stood looking at each other for one long moment before Míriel stepped forward and pulled Finwë into a deep kiss. Indis leaned forward when they broke apart and gave each of them gentle ones, feeling both nervous and ready for what was to come.

She reached for the ties of her bodice, not letting her nerves win, but Míriel stilled her hands and loosened them herself. When Indis' dress dropped onto the rugs covering the ground of the tent, she stepped out of it and then pulled off her shift. When she looked up at her spouses, they were slowly undressing each other. Indis swallowed, imagining the feel of Míriel's hands on her, Finwë moving inside her. She took a step toward them and Finwë kicked their clothing out of the way before giving each of them a slow kiss.

After he pulled away, Míriel met their eyes and deliberately lay back on the bed of furs and blankets. Indis inhaled at the sight of her pale body against the dark furs; she had not thought that Míriel could look even more beautiful than she already did. Finwë went to his knees at Míriel's side and began lingeringly kissing his way up her abdomen to her breasts. Indis knelt down on the soft furs between Míriel's spread legs and reached out to gently touch her folds.