Jubilant

Canon-compliant.  Reunion and joy.  Nothing more need be said.  Quenya names used (so Finrod = Findaráto).  Finrod was the first elf ever reborn from amongst the Noldorin exiles, and while I'm sure he missed his mama and papa, the first place he would probably want to go isn't to visit the High King.  I think that Námo can understand that.  Probably still First Age, possibly Second.  Somewhat introspective.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the characters.  He owns the ship.  Hell, he even owns Finrod's rebirth.

Pairings: Finrod x Amarië

Characters: Finrod, Amarië (mention of Arien)

Warning: canon-compliant, fluff, obvious canon character death (and rebirth)

Song: Spirit of Moravia

Words: 850
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jubilant (adjective): exultant; filled with or expressing great joy or triumph
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/exultant

Ah, sunlight...

Warm to his flesh, heating him down to the bone and leaving him feeling comfortable and relaxed as he walked slowly out of the towering Halls of the Waiting and their darkness and coldness.  Findaráto closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, fresh air, the scent of earth and wildflowers filling his senses, burning through his nose after so long without smell.

Alive.  After so long in halls of gray, he felt so alive.

The elf raised his head, eager to feel the wind lift and tangle his hair, delighted at the cool touch.  Breathing out a deep sigh, he opened his eyes to a familiar house on a familiar hill surrounded for miles around with green, lush forest.

Familiarity.  Home.

Filling him up to the brim with sudden warmth and wonder.  Eyes wide, he found himself drifting towards it, walking up the steps that looked exactly the same as when he had last tread them into a house that had remained untouched by the long years.  The same doormat with an infuriating stain on one corner and a frayed edge on the left side.  The same entrance hall, still smelling of cherry trees and vanilla.

His cloak came to rest on a familiar hook and his boots joined a pair of open-toed sandals beside the door.  Awed and bursting with anticipation but at the same time a rising nervousness, he moved through the familiar abode, remembering slowly that turning right from the hall and entering the third door down led to kitchen and the fourth door on the right led to the spacious sitting room with wide open windows looking out towards the mountains.  Every door he opened, finding them all exactly as he could remember leaving them, with little personal touches of extra something.

But still there was a missing piece of perfection.

Finding the dining room, Findaráto smiled gently at the flower arrangement sitting at the center of the small oaken table, pink speckled day lilies pouring out over the sides, twined with purples and soft whites.  He brushed his fingers against their petals and marveled at the softness against his rough flesh; flowers had been rare on the other side of the sea.  She loved flowers.

Pushing past, he found himself stepping outside onto the patio, looking around curiously, startled.  For the inside of the house had remained almost unchanged, but the garden could not have been more different from the simple little herb patch he recalled.

Trellised vines and sweeping beds of flowers spread out in all directions, a maze of color and scent and grace.  Something in the back of his throat swelled and made it hard to breathe, welling and rising and ringing inside his chest.

A few more steps, silent upon the greenest grass he could ever recall, and then the soft sound of humming reached his ears, sweet high tones jingling like soft bells in the wind.  When she came into his sight, his breath was lost.  Just as he remembered her, with long golden hair that outshone any metal or field of wheat, creamy pale skin that looked softer than rose petals, her familiar form wrapped in simple white linen gown with bare feet peeking out, she stood before him gently hydrating a patch of brilliant lilies.  With the melody, her body swayed and danced gently, toes curling and pressing into the grass.

"Amarië," he whispered, that sparkling feeling covering him from head to toe, embracing his soul in its exultant glory.

At his voice, the watering can slipped from her soft fingers, falling to the grass and spilling water over her bare feet, soaking into the bottom of her gown.  But she did not seem to notice.  Her eyes were riveted upon him, stunned blue depths opened wide, encased by thick blond lashes.  Rosy lips parted, but no words came forth as they stared at each other, awe-stricken.

Finally, he raised his arms and offered a tiny, weary smile.  But a true one. "I'm home."

In the garden, her jubilant cry echoed and resonated with the warmth of the earth and the touch of Arien's rays.  Findaráto found himself toppled into the grass with an armful of wife, laughing as teasing little kisses pressed down over his cheeks and nose.  A chaste brush of lips brought a beaming smile to his face as he stared up at the most beautiful creature he had ever been privileged to meet.  The woman he loved more than anything in the world.  His One.

"Oh, Findaráto," she sighed, laying herself against his chest, her golden head tucked beneath his chin as they lay amongst the flowers. "I missed you so very much."

"I missed you, too.  More than you will ever know, lótenya." His eyes drifted shut, and the molten, bubbling feeling building within him overflowed.  Pure joy.  Pure peace.  Pure contentment. Stroking his fingers through her hair, he found himself choking back tears.  But good tears.  Happy tears.

"Home," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Finally, I am home."
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Aw, aren't they adorable?  It would have been hard to make this prompt sad (though I did have an idea that had a dark twist).  But because I'm short of time and because it's Friday and I'm in a fairly good mood, I decided that I felt more like writing ridiculous fluff than angst today.  Enjoy the marshmallowy goodness.

A beautiful picture of Amarië here by ~kittykatkanie on dA, originally done for Finrod and Amarië's wedding hosted by our lovely family: "--yes." I love this pairing.  Truly, I do. <3

And the song.  It's just... happy.  Flying.  Two Steps From Heaven is not my favorite Two Steps From Hell album, but this song definitely makes it onto my favorites list: Spirit of Moravia.

PS: lótenya = my flower in Quenya.