Úrui

Part of the Dismiss storyline.  Possibly Mellow Soulmate AU.  A little dream comes to fruition.  This is basically a sequel to "Cerveth" (July), as Úrui clearly translates to August.  Expect more of them.  I don't know what all of the months will stand for, but I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.  Related also to "Compromise" and "Journey" (spoiler for that one, actually), as well as the Cleansed Arc, the Winter Arc and the Untouchable Arc.  Takes place somewhere to the east of Rhovanion in the late Third Age.

AN: Elanor and niphredil are both types of flowers, just in case that isn't clear.  Both grew on Cerin Amroth (Amroth, thus why I decided to reference them here) where Aragorn and Arwen became betrothed.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Unfinished Tales

Pairings: Amroth x Nimrodel

Characters: Nimrodel, Amroth, OFC (unborn baby) (mentions Sauron vaguely and Galadriel)

Warning: non-canon compliant, non-canon character survival, pregnancy, mention of politics, some kissing, spiritual theoretical stuff

Song: Now We Are Free

Words: 992

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August (noun): the eighth month of the Gregorian calendar

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/august

Outside, the earth was hot with the dying blaze of summer.  So warm was the world that Nimrodel could not withhold her sigh of deep contentedness as she walked beneath the rays of Anor, wide-brimmed hat shading her eyes from the blinding brilliance of the sun sweltering overhead.  The days of Úrui had begun to pull to a blistering close and welcome the coming fading of autumn.  But the chill had yet to set in, and the hot wind combed through her hair affectionately, as though greeting an old friend.

A simple life was that which she led now, nothing like that which she recalled from before.  No lady of the wood was she, and no prince of a great kingdom was her husband.  But she was content with this simplicity and beauty.

Content with their small homestead and their self-sustaining vegetable garden flourishing in the shade of their home.  Content with the meat brought back from her mate's long hunts in the wilderness.  Content with gowns woven of simple cloths and sewn with her own fingers rather than elaborate pieces of silk and lace that before she had donned.

Far to the west lay the shadow that crept upon the world.  To the east, they stayed, far beyond the reaches of Eriador and Rhovanion.  And here the shadow did not touch, for there was little here to conquer.  Few people lived upon these wide open plains besides the odd nomadic wandering tribes.

Little known was the return of those few elves that had forsaken the west and traveled back to their homelands of old.  Like Nimrodel and Amroth.

The fair, white-haired lady stood upon the porch of their simple house and stared out at the open lands, untouched and uncultivated.  Untamed wilderness.  On and on stretched miles of golden fields beneath the gaping blue maw of the sky, the buzzing of insects and the rustle of grass keeping a steady drone of flourishing life beneath the peaceful quiet that laid over the land.  Birds flocked to the young woods and bees stalked out the blossoming of the late wildflowers that would wilt before the month was done, the scattered watercolor gathered about the small patch of forest.  Here was the only growth of trees for leagues upon leagues in any direction of rolling hills or flat-lands.

It was not Lothlórien, not the towering, ancient forest that had been so dear in her heart.  The brook that babbled nearby was not familiar to her memories, and its banks were decorated with the common gold of dandelion and moss rather than elanor.  Lilies blossomed in the shade rather than the graceful niphredil and the trees were by no means golden with dewdrops of pure honeyed sap dripping from their boughs.

Nonetheless, it had come to be home.  Perhaps far more of a home than had been the dazzling, enchanted woods of Lothlórien in their days of early glory before the Lady of the Woods brought forth the darkness with her Ring of Power.  Here, evil did not touch.

Here, Nimrodel could breathe again.

And here, she would start their family.

Secretly smiling, she laid her hand upon her swollen belly.

Together, she and her husband had lived here for countless years in plenty and happiness, but it was only near twelve months to the day past that they had finally conceived their first child.  A girl, she was quite certain, for she could feel it in the depths of her mind, the resonance of her unborn child calling.

And soon... soon their family would grow from two to three.  Soon, their first child would be born.

Delighted despite the sore back and ankles, despite the discomfort of her distended middle and the ill-fit of once perfectly tailored gowns, Nimrodel could not cease her crooning and humming when her hands stroked over her womb, over her daughter.  She hoped her lullabies echoed in the child's dreams, that the little girl would remember the whispers of golden star-flowers and the song of waterfalls and the symphony of starlit nights when the moon was new.

In a few days... in a few days...

Larger hands joined her upon her belly, and she felt the body of her husband press up against her back, his hums joining in harmony with her own as he rocked her against his chest.  Tangled together, they stood in the heat of the fading afternoon.

"Are you excited to become a mother?" he breathed against her ear. "Are you happy?"

Always, he was asking her, and always her answer would be the same. "Our family grows and our lands remain at peace.  Together, we can live out our days without strife, and I do not believe Aman could have blessed us greater than does this wild land of plenty." Turning her head, she nuzzled into his throat, took in his familiar scent and watched the flutter of his pulse, his life-blood flowing beneath her eyelashes. "I do not think I could be happier than I am now.  And I am so very ready to become a mother."

"So very ready to be done with swollen ankles and cramping feet?" he asked, laughing softly against her cheek as he pressed kisses to her skin.

"That as well." They shared their chortling and kisses, entwined until their foreheads rested together and their blue eyes melted into a single shared shade.  And Nimrodel relished being cradled in his powerful arms, relished the feeling of his broad palms sliding over her womb with adoration and the flutter of her daughter’s answering kicks and squirms.  Perhaps their petite baby was just as ready to greet the world as her parents were to bring her forth.

Bring her forth into the heat of Úrui and the beauty of the sun overhead and the glory of the golden fields.  Into warmth and contentment. Truly, Nimrodel was ready.  So very ready.