Merry Midwinter by Aprilertuile

Candles and falling asleep

This late evening was calm and quiet in Fëanáro’s household. The following day would be chaotic, disorganized, cheerful and messy, as all midwinter days ended up being but for now the night was peaceful, the family was calm and…

Nerdanel raised her head from her book suddenly alarmed: the room was silent. Her children and husband were only quiet when sleeping or plotting and…

And all around her in the living-room, lying on the couch or the thick carpet in front of the fireplace, her husband and children were all deeply asleep.

Fëanáro was lying on the couch, Curufinwë settled between his father and the couch’s back.

Maitimo and Makalaurë were both lying together in the second couch.

Tyelkormo was lying on the carpet, using a throw pillow as an actual pillow, Huan snoring with his head on a side of his master’s pillow.

Nerdanel grimaced softly at that sight. She didn’t enjoy the idea of her children sharing a bed or a pillow with any kind of animal, alas, this particular child of hers and that dog were too stubborn…

Carnistir was sleeping with his head on Tyelkormo’s shoulder, and the twins were sleeping on each side of Tyelkormo, with their head on his belly.

Everyone was there and accounted for and sleeping peacefully.

The only lights in the room were the thin rays of Telperion from a crack of the curtains, the dying light of the fireplace, and numerous candles set all around the room.

Nerdanel hesitated.

She probably should do the responsible thing and wake up her husband and older children to send them all to their beds and carry the twins to their bed herself but…

She settled back against the deep comfy cushions of the chair she was in.

The air was warm, thanks to the fireplace and whatever invention of her husband. The children and her husband all looked peaceful under the warm light of the candles, and the silence in the room was broken only by their soft breathing.

It was rare when things seem so quiet and slow.

She moved to lean further into the cushions at her side.

In her direct line of sight stood a candle made by the twins, a first attempt. Its soft light attracted her eyes as she was settling herself comfortably. The candle was slightly crooked, the candle wick wasn’t quite as straight as it should be, but its light was soft, the little flame dancing in the relative darkness of the room.

She couldn’t stop a smile as she watched it.

The twins had enjoyed making the candles with Maitimo this year.

It was a midwinter tradition to make candle for the winter around this date. Maitimo was the most patient of the family with the task and so had been tasked to teach the twins how to make the candles.

Some of their attempts had been scrapped back to melted wax to start again, and some had been good and usable, and the twins were delighted to see their candles be really used, crooked or not.

She felt her eyes close, and decided that she was too comfortable to move. She’d regret it, or not, in the morning.