Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the Silmarillion. Sáriel is mine.
Pairings: Fingon x Sáriel
Characters: Fingon, Sáriel, Ereinion (sort of) (mentions Turgon, Argon, Fingolfin (sort of), Arien, Melian, Thingol, and the Valar)
Warning: very AU but still canon-compliant somehow, OFC, non-explicit baby-making, some mildly sexual touching and kissing and such, mentions of war and (purposefully) mistaken identity
Song: I See the Light
Words: 1,705
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treat (transitive verb): to deal with: handle; to provide with free food, drink or entertainment; to provide with gratification or enjoyment
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/treat?show=0&t=1365919248
Being king was synonymous with being busy.
It was something Findekáno had never actually contemplated until he was thrust into the intimidating shoes that didn't quite fit correctly. His "father's" shoes. The shoes of a great and wise king.
Why had Turukáno not been firstborn, he could not help but wonder? His straight-laced, stern younger brother would have locked into the position like a jigsaw piece into its matching partner, latched close with outlines that perfectly filled each unique dip and curve of the job. Findekáno, though...
The day someone called Findekáno the Valiant "wise" was the day Helcaraxë experienced a full day of sunshine and heady summer temperatures. Before his coronation (rushed and downplayed though it was), he had been well-known for his cheery, easy-going demeanor, geniality and his annoying tendency to drink too much wine at parties and flirt with any beautiful woman within a twenty foot radius. Let it never be said he was born for the demesne of responsibility and gravitas; even thinking about the sheer amount of paperwork and requests and audiences he went through each day made Findekáno want to collapse in a heap of heavy velvets, furs and jewels with utter exhaustion before he even started.
And thus, he quickly discovered that he did not have time for parties or for excessive drinking. By the Valar, he barely had time to sleep, let alone enjoy himself! "No, my lord, you mustn't do this or that" and "But my lord, there are still thirty persons awaiting an audience in the main chambers" and "My lord, it simply is not proper for you to walk about without your circlet and your robes" every single day, over and over until he wanted to dash his head against a stone wall!
When he met Arakáno in the Halls of the Waiting, he was going to hug his little brother nice and tight and beg forgiveness for shoving his unwitting younger sibling into this dreadfully tight, constrictive slot of "King". No one should have to go through this torture! And to think there were men out there who desired this fate!
Findekáno shuddered at the very idea.
---
It was very, very early in the morning, and as every other morning, he was staring at the ceiling of his bedchambers. The very first rays of Arien were peeking through the diaphanous curtains, tinting the sky pale red on the horizon and reflecting their crimson shadows above his head; that, of course, meant it was time to rise and scrounge some breakfast from the kitchens. His first audience would start within a half-hour of the rising of the sun.
Pushing back the covers, the king was halfway out of bed before a soft hand caught at his forearm. Turning, he saw his wife's vibrant eyes peeking out from beneath long, pale red lashes. Even half-asleep with her curly hair sticking out in complete disarray, she was the most breathtaking creature he had ever had the humble honor of gazing upon, and charmer that he was, Findekáno could not help but lift her hand from his arm and press a gentle kiss to her knuckles like a gentleman born and bred. "Return to your dreams, hervess-nín. Anor has not even risen from slumber yet."
"Stay here, hervenn-nín," she murmured sleepily, rising in all her naked glory to press a chaste kiss against his lips. Her scent swirled around him, all cloying sweetness and mouthwatering spice hidden underneath, and it left Findekáno momentarily dazed. "Come back to bed."
"I have a meeting in a half-hour that I must--"
She laughed softly, and Findekáno found himself with an armful of luscious, soft curves and a wild red mane of curled silk. "I forced your butler to clear your schedule today, my king," she teased in that come-hither voice that never failed to get his blood stirring. "I thought you could use a day of rest with your lovely, lonely wife and no pesky diplomats and sniveling aristocrats to interrupt our privacy. Your wife wants her husband all to herself this day."
"Have I been neglecting you, hervess-nín?" he asked huskily, nuzzling at the top of her head and brushing his lips against her temple. "I had best remedy this situation, hadn't I, my Sáriel?"
"Charmer," she accused as her soft hands found their way onto his shoulders and washed over the hills and valleys of his broad chest and belly, nails gently running over the tender skin until the king broke out in delighted gooseflesh. "You treat me so well, Fingon."
"And here, I thought I was the one being treated," Findekáno teased back even as he fell back to the thick, warm comfort of his occupied bed, the soft, smooth covers of his wife's body and oceans of fiery red hair spilling around them as a curtain to hide away their secret reality from the world. For a long while after that, Findekáno forgot everything but scalding heat and exhaustive, satisfying pleasure in her arms, forgot all about responsibility and duty and being the bloody High King of the Noldor. And it was lovely.
---
The whole day was, indeed, wonderful. Late breakfast alone in their private chambers, still abed. Lounging on the balcony dais in the afternoon sunshine, sleeping and cuddling beneath Arien's warm caresses. Making love on almost every available surface without worrying about locked doors and missed meetings.
By the evening (after a dinner that left him feeling quite full and glowing with gratification), Findekáno was more than pleased to settle himself down on a chair before the fire, his lovely Sáriel perched on his lap, her arms around his neck and her breath washing over his throat. Without thought, his hand rose to caress the graceful curve of her spine, fingers tangling in her long hair, bathing in the sheer brilliance of her presence against and all around his spirit. Kingship-be-damned, he could have sat here forever and never wanted for a thing. No wonder Thingol and Melian had stood still gazing into the other's starlit eyes for so long; he would have wanted this stillness of silent companionship and trust to last for eternity as well.
He felt her nails tracing over the nape of his neck, the ridges of her knuckles rubbing at the edge of his jaw and up his sharp cheekbone. "Have you had a relaxing day, hervenn-nín?"
"Indeed, I have." Findekáno pressed her closer against him, until he could feel every inch of her curvaceous form entwined with his in an intimate embrace. "Your little surprise is quite appreciated, hervess-nín. I do not think I remember the last time I was allowed breakfast abed, never mind had time to nap the day away in my lovely mate's arms."
"Too long," she said, looking up at him, and Findekáno did not have the words to describe how absolutely glorious he found her in the firelight, her cheeks softly flushed and her lips swollen from his eager kisses.
"Much too long," he agreed. "What say you to an early night?" And, of course, a good many hours of lovemaking before finally falling asleep wrapped around one another? But that last part was implied.
Nevertheless, she smiled knowingly, that kittenish little grin that had his heart leaping up in his throat and his loins clenching with desire. "Thou ravenous seducer," she named him, giggling and straddling his hips. It took all his willpower not to groan at the press of soft yet strong inner thighs against his flanks, so familiar and welcoming a cradle. "I have one last surprise to treat you to before that, though, hervenn-nín."
"Is that so?" he asked, curious at the sudden change in her features. The sultry look softened into something that sent little tendrils of warmth spiraling down into his belly, filling him with golden sparks of affection and closeness. "And what is this surprise, hervess-nín?"
"I went to visit the healers yesterday." Confused, Findekáno looked up into her face, wondering what in all of Arda that was supposed to mean. "It was the reason I cleared your schedule, actually."
"Oh?" Let it never be said that Findekáno was the brightest candle in the chandelier.
"Hm, yes..." Sáriel leaned forward as if to share a most important secret, and her lips stroked over the shell of his ear and down, her breath hot and intimate on his bare skin. "We are going to be parents, Fingon, hervenn-nín."
We are going to... to what?
It took an embarrassingly long moment for the words to register in his mind, or for it to respond with a suitably coherent answer through the sudden haze of shock that fell down over his rational thoughts. Wide-eyed, he pulled away to look down at his wife's face, his broad hands falling to cup her round hips as he stared into her deep eyes. "We are...? You are...?"
"I am." Her soft hand captured his, laying it spread over her still-flat belly. Somehow, knowing what lay beneath his trembling fingers, this single touch felt more intimate and sacred than any fondle or caress they had shared within the sandwiched privacy of their silken sheets. "Surprise," she whispered.
It was by far the best surprise he had ever been treated to. Breathless and wordless as he was, Findekáno could only stare in star-struck wonder and gape at the news of such a miraculous little gift, bringing a thick, hopeful blanket of light down over his life even in such dark times, even with responsibility for his entire people riding on his shoulders.
Never before had he experienced such pure happiness.
"A perfect surprise for a perfect day," he finally gasped out, hoarse and biting back the traitorous tears that pooled in the corners of his eyes. The kiss that followed was perhaps more glorious than any other he had ever experienced. "I am truly blessed, my Sáriel."
Because basking there with his wife and child in his arms--in the warmth and togetherness of being in the embrace of the person closest to his heart and soul--Findekáno felt true bliss.
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The song I've been stuck listening to all day (and it's just so pretty, so it's not my fault!) is definitely not an angst song, and therefore the story born from it was not an angsty piece. To be honest, I'm not even sure it applies (the lyrics that is), but I couldn't help myself at all. Kyle Landry did an arrangement of I See the Light from Tangled and I'm so excited that I can't wait until the sheet music is on his website! I wanted to start learning this immediately, but he doesn't have the arrangement up yet (as it's fairly new). I love the original, but I love this even more. Forgive this pianist for her blatant favoritism.
Anyway, so it created this very cute little snippet. I did say that Gil-Galad had to come from somewhere, did I not? Well here we are. Fingon's finally going to become a daddy. I've always pictured him as the sort who would be absolutely delighted by the idea. Can you not just imagine him cooing and making silly faces at his cute little Ereinion? He won't be sleeping much after the baby's born, though, I will admit to that much LOL. Babies keep you up at all hours of the night the first few months.
So there you have it. And just because I can: Fingon emblem by ~I-TAVARON-I on dA, a rather beautiful variation on Fingolfin's heraldic device if I do say so myself. Also, an equally epic picture of Fingon by *Venlian on dA.
Sindarin vocabulary:
hervess-nín: my wife
hervenn-nín: my husband
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