Believable

Could be Mellow Soulmate AU.  Eöl returns to Middle-earth and someone is waiting for him at Mithlond.  Note that Íreth is the Sindarin translation of Aredhel's Quenya name Irissë, and Aredhel is likely an epessë more than anything else. I always feel as though spouses would call each other by their real names and not by their epessë, you know?  Early Third Age (post-BotLA).  Guess what colony of elven smiths I speak of :3.

Disclaimer: They belong to Tolkien.  It's positively cruel.

Pairings: Eöl x Aredhel

Characters: Eöl, Aredhel, Círdan, unborn baby (OFC) (mentions of Turgon, Ulmo and Ilúvatar)

Warnings: AU, canonical character death, minor violence, mentions of murder, not-quite-sort-of-cussing (hard to believe this is fluffy romance, huh?)

Song: i-AM

Words: 964
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believable (adjective): capable of being believed (accepted as true, genuine or real) especially as within the range of known possibility or probability
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/believable

Life, it seemed, was too good to be true.

Breathing deeply of the fresh air, Eöl looked out over the calm waters of the sea glistening in the afternoon sunlight.  Just visible in the distance, covered in a hazy layer of cloud, were the peaks of Ered Luin, which he sharply recalled from younger years.

It was too peaceful, too bright.  The ship's rocking was gentle, as if Ulmo had seen fit to grant the returning exiles and dark elves a small token of sympathy for their journey.

For his part, Eöl was nearly breathless with anticipation and nerves.  It was not every day that one met his wife again after more than three thousand years apart.  The wife that he had killed, at that, no matter that it was not she he had aimed for.  Somehow, he could not imagine his fiery wife sweetly forgiving him for attempting to kill their son.

Such thoughts were running rampant through his mind as their ship, white rather than gray, docked at the Havens.  A slightly familiar, bearded elf waited for them as they left the safety of the vessel, and it took Eöl a moment to remember Círdan of the Falathrim, who he had known once in their very early youth as Nowë of the Nelyar.

They exchange polite nods when they stood before one another. "It has been long, old friend."

"It has," Círdan agreed in his gruff voice and manner.  Neither of them had ever been men of many words. "Welcome home."

Eöl swallowed almost audibly.  It was good to be back.

"There is someone waiting for you," the shipwright added just as Eöl made to turn his back. "She was quite anxious, but I told her it was best to give you a few moments of fresh air."

It probably had been a wise idea.  Now that Eöl was reminded that his sweet Ar-Feiniel was waiting, it felt as though all the air in the world was too stale to fill his lungs.  The sea-salt burned at his tongue sharply when he licked his lips. "I had best not keep her waiting, then."

Círdan nodded in agreement and moved on to the next newcomer, disappearing into the small sea of elves, leaving Eöl to find his own way.

Not that he had to search much.  From just within the arched doorway of a nearby building, a tall woman draped in white peered around one of the gray marble columns, her pale blue eyes incisive as the sharpest steel blade.  The dark elf gulped and steeled his shoulders, moving towards her, fully expecting a curt greeting, harsh words and to be sent from her sight until the end of the world.  He was a hedonistic creature by nature, but he would not begrudge her that.

Indeed, she did not smile at him, and his heart sank a little, but he did not stop walking until they were side by side, only a few feet between them.  His mouth opened, floundered and closed.  What was one meant to say in such a situation?

It was she who spoke first. "You... you rank, bull-headed son-of-an-orc!" she cried loudly as she struck out with a fist, punching him full-on in the nose with a wicked right-hook.  Must have learned that from Turgon, bloody bastard.  I will have to thank him when next we meet.

Blood dripped from beneath his fingers as he pinched at his already-crooked nose.  Well, he didn't think it was broken this time at least. "You are angry," he observed quietly, trying to maintain some dignity even though half the elves on the dock were watching with wide, concerned eyes. "I do not blame you.  Truly.  If you wish me to be gone from your sight, I will go."

She stared at him for a long moment, looking as breathless as he felt, her white cheeks flushed with color. "You great bloody fool," she whispered.

And then she kissed him.

Eöl didn't hear anything else after that.  All he could do was wonder whether or not he was still on that ship sleeping.  If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up again.

---

A year later found him settled in a colony of smiths on the fringes of the Hithaeglir in what had once been Eregion.  This suited Eöl perfectly well.  There was a small house built into a sheer rock-face, with a porch and a vegetable garden and a forge carved out of the stone in the back.  It wasn't luxurious, but it was enough.

It was home.

Especially when he sat on the steps and looked towards the West where Anor set on the world.  Contented, he looked towards his wife, curled up beside him, her eyes half-closed and her belly swelled with child.

He bit his lip against a sigh. "I think I am still dreaming," he admitted aloud.

Her fingers twined with his, squeezing gently. "This is real," she assured him as she laid their entangled hands over their unborn child. "I do not think I have ever felt so free."

Their eyes met, and she gave him an earnest smile, one that seemed to turn this impossible dream into a believable reality.  She loved him, wanted him.  They were starting their little family anew.  He could be contented forever with nothing more than his forge in the mountains and his sweet Íreth Aredhel at his side.

Eöl smiled at her and thanked Ilúvatar profusely in his head.  It wasn't every day that an old bastard like him was given such a rich gift.  He wasn't about to waste his second chance.
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Fluffy.  I have to say, this pairing is one of my favorites, and I hate it when people make Eöl out to be some sort of creepy rapist who forced Aredhel to marry him and such.  I don't think she's the type who would marry someone just because of an enchantment nor do I think she can just be pushed around like a weak-willed ninny.  She grew up with the Fëanorions as playmates for God's sake!

In any case, Maeglin does not make an appearance.  I just want to say that I personally find his actions to be much more heinous than his father's.  I mean, sure Eöl reacted rather thoughtlessly to the whole "you may not leave on pain of death" thing, but I think he did what he did more out of love than spite.  In any case, I'm not going to completely neglect Maeglin, because I don't hate him that much; however, I'm not sure what I want to do about him just yet.

Anyway, some of the amazing pictures that inspired my head-canon of these two: In the Forest of Nan Elmoth (my head-canon of how Eöl first saw and became hopelessly besotted with Aredhel) and We Should be Together by ~liga-marta on dA.

And the song that I was listening to that totally turned this into a corny reunion story: i-AM by Hiroyuki Sawano from the Ao no Exorcist OST.

Wow, long end-note. LOL.