Urban

Canon-compliant.  Maeglin meets Idril for the first time... and doesn't realize who she is.  Quenya name used for Maeglin.  I do realize that most people would just use the name his father gave him, but I think he would stick with Lómion in his head.  Surely that's what he was called for the twelve years before his daddy actually gave him a father-name.  Anyway, first time writing from Maeglin POV.  He is clueless about women.  I imagine he knows about coitus and that's as far as Eöl was willing to go with the birds and the bees talk. Takes place in the First Age in Gondolin (obviously).

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the Silmarillion

Pairings: one-sided Maeglin x Idril

Characters: Maeglin, Idril (mentions of Aredhel, Eöl, Turgon and random Gondolindrim)

Warning: canon-compliant, canon character death, fluff, infatuation, muted claustrophobia or agoraphobia, mentions of execution (in slightly explicit detail)

Song: Here to Stay

Words: 1,381
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
urban (adjective): of, relating to, characteristic of, or constituting a city
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/urban

The last few days had been trying.

Perhaps trying was putting it lightly.  Lómion was exhausted.  He had barely gotten a moment's rest since his mother had passed, since he had watched his uncle's men shove his father off the city wall into the abyss below.  The crack of bone against rock still rang in his ears and haunted him when he dared close his eyes. 

And beyond that, he felt crowded and uncomfortable, claustrophobic.  There were so many people.  Guards.  Cooks.  Servants.  The young elf (who had only ever known his parents' humble cottage hidden in the enchanted wood) had quickly retreated to his fortified chambers, hardly daring to venture beyond his own door unless he absolutely required food or water.

And that was how he found himself sitting on a balcony connected to his rooms, overlooking the flurries of life below, sightlessly watching all those tiny ant-like specks running back and forth.  Logically, he knew they were people, but there were so many of them!  He had never seen so many people in one place!

"You should not sit here by yourself."

Startled, he turned to face the owner of the soft voice.

And promptly lost his breath.

She was glorious.  His eyes took in her slender form, the golden crown of her curls and the soft, rosy hue of her cheeks.  The urge--the foreign and uncomfortable urge--to slide his fingers thought the river of molten sunlight on her shoulder, to brush his knuckles on creamy skin, made his hands curl into fists, feeling too slick and heavy to move. Sucking in a soft breath, he met her eyes and felt lost immediately in blue.  Embarrassment quickly followed, and he shied away.

To think, she was seeing him like this, an unkempt hellion with his hair is disarray and dark circles lining his eyes from lack of sleep.  He must look quite the horrid sight to such a lovely woman.

Immediately, he stood and bowed. "Forgive me, my lady, I--"

"There is no need to apologize," she assured him, and Lómion was startled to feel her hand touch his arm, just a gentle brush, but one that made his entire body tense and left a searing brand where her fingers had been. "The last few days cannot have been easy for you."

He could not look her in the eyes again.  Suddenly, his boots were very interesting.  No one had ever told him how difficult it was to speak to a woman who was not his mother.  Certainly, his father had never seen fit to mention such a thing--not that Lómion would ever have considered asking for advice from the old--

The thought cut off abruptly, jagged edges cutting at him as he pulled away.  His father was dead.  Dead.  Sure, they had not gotten along, but...

"Yes, I suppose you are right," he whispered.

"I think you need a distraction," she suddenly said, and he chanced a glance just high enough to see that she was smiling. "How about I show you around the city?"

Down there?  With all those people?

Lómion did not want to tell this divine vision that he was terrified of going down there, which was probably why he'd been hiding up in the upper levels of the palace is the first place.  Until his mother had brought him here, he had never even been outside Nan Elmoth, let alone met anyone.  Down below them, hundreds of those little ants moved about the white streets.  So many people!

"I do not know if that..."

"It will be fun!" she insisted, and her had wrapped warmly around his.  Lómion's breath ceased for a moment, and then his heart was suddenly beating a tattoo against his ribcage, as if it were trying to break its way out of the prison of his chest.  Was this normal a normal reaction to being in the presence of a beautiful woman?  But his mother was beautiful, and she didn't make him feel anything like this at all!

Before he could sort out his tangled thoughts, she was pulling him away from the balcony, away from the sanctuary of his dark, cold rooms, and down towards the urban sprawl below.  With people, people, people...

"Aiya!  Wait a moment!  I--"

"You should not stay in your room and brood," the gorgeous creature scolded teasingly, giggling softly, and the sound sent tingled of warmth over his entire body, as if it showered the heat of Arien down upon him like rain upon the earth. "I'll take you to the marketplace!  Have you ever been to one before?  The one here is huge!  Of course, we get trade from the other elven settlements..."

Her voice filled his ears, and though he stopped hearing coherent words, he basked in the sound.  Before he knew it, she had him out on cobblestone streets, and other elves were brushing close enough to touch him, barely an arm's reach away.  Lómion was ashamed to say he might as well have clung to the woman's skirts like a child to his mother, but she didn't seem upset with him.  In fact, when he realized she was more amused than anything else, he blushed so hard that it reached the tips of his ears.

"I've never been... I mean, that is to say... I..." Would it sound ridiculous if he told her he'd never met anyone before?  Would she think him a dullard?

"So you haven't been to a market before?" Her smile widened, and his embarrassment began seeping away, replaced with her brightness. "You seem rather... shy... but really, there's no reason to worry.  I think it's quite fun."

Fun?  He glanced around at all of the moving bodies so close together. "I am simply no used to so many people or so much noise."

"You shall get used to it quickly.  Trust me." She winked and giggled again, and he suddenly forgot all the reasons why wandering around the city, brushing shoulders with all these strangers, was a very bad idea.  Without permission, his arm looped with hers, and his feet carried him forth wherever she went, weaving in and out of unfamiliar faces but hardly having the sense to feel nervous at their proximity.

Instead, he watched her.  Watched how her hair swirled when she turned towards him, how her neck stretched into an elegant arch that looked so delicate and strangely appealing.  Was her skin soft? he wondered again.  What did it smell like?  Sweet?  Like blossoming flowers in the forest's small sunlit clearings, pure and gentle?

After a while, he stopped noticing the other people, only remembering what she spoke, only seeing what she pressed into his hands.  Only hearing her breathy laughter ringing, ringing, ringing...

By the time the sun set upon the city and they were headed back, he vaguely realized that it had happened, or rather, that nothing terrible had happened.  Blinking, he glanced around, and then his eyes came back to her.  Painted with the vibrant, fiery oranges, the rosy pinks and deep golds of Anor, she was even more magical to gaze upon.  Ever had he dared imagine what the Princess Lúthien--the most beautiful woman ever to grace this earth--looked like, but none of his imaginings could compare to this beauty before him.

This woman and her cheeky little smirk and her playful little giggle.  This woman with her soft, gentle hands and endless patience. "That was not so terrible, now, was it?  Are you feeling better?"

Helplessly, he nodded, unable to look away or think of the proper words to express what he felt at that moment.

"Excellent!" She seemed so very pleased with him. "I hope you learn to love living here."

Lómion flushed.  He thought he just might get used to all the people and the dizzying labyrinth of pathways and streets, the urban center that overwhelmed his poor reclusive senses.  Grudgingly, he had to admit that his first adventure into the city had been relatively painless.

"Maybe," he admitted.

Her face lit up again, outshining the sun with ease, and his heart fluttered.

Maybe he could come to love living here, amongst these strangers.  Amongst her.

Maybe.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Less about the city and more about the cute.  Too bad this infatuation culminates into a disastrous ending for pretty much everyone involved.  But hey, it had to start somewhere, and this is how I imagined it when I actually, you know, thought about it.  For some reason, I can't imagine Maeglin falling for a woman he knows is his cousin just like that.  I think it's more plausible this way, that it sparked before he realized it was forbidden, and then it just got out of control.

Also, I know the Silmarillion says she knew of his dark character, but I don't feel that she could possibly immediately hate him, nor do I feel at this point that he has the background to have a "dark character".  He's a very, very young elf who just lost his parents and spent most of his life cooped up in his father's house, so he might be a bit broody, but not dark.  Not yet, anyway.

So the song: Here to Stay by Shiro Sagisu from the Bleach OST.  You know you love it.  I think it fits the mood of the piece (or rather, the piece evolved to fit the mood of the song LOL).  And, some lovely Maeglin fanart: Maeglin Lomion by ~Righon on dA.  Look at this face.  That's why Eöl named him "sharp glance".

That is all I have for you today.