#nerdxnel

[ i love that miriel really doesn’t have time for Nerdanel’s comments omg ]

“No that is quite wise, but it does not mean I am in any way obliged to help those that remain,” Miriel had to point out, just a little stung by the holier-than-thou attitude she read in Nerdanel’s words though by and large her greatest emotion was bemusement at being preached at.

cHRIST. (I was going to say "well, if Nelyo is not available there's still Curufin" and then I realised.)

swiftoffoot said: what if Nelyo then turned to Nolofinwe and gave him the crown aHAHAHA

"At least one of us ought be concerned with what they think!"

Nerdanel’s laugh turned into a groan as she pressed her face into the exquisite tunic that covered his chest. Their decision to marry had been far from a romantic one, but that was precisely the way Nerdanel wanted it. It was a serious choice to make, and there was no room for unnecessary pomp and ceremony, at least not yet. That, she was certain, would come later. Making the decision was simple for her, monumental though it was. A life with him was a life she wanted. Having only her own companionship had served her very well in the past and if their paths had never crossed she was sure happiness would not evade her – yet they had. The mere idea of a life with him was so incredibly comfortable, so incredibly right, that it was a natural choice to make.

Natural for her, at least. For him, too, she knew. Of few things she was certain, but Feanaro’s love for her she was. This love that they shared had been in private, though. Tonight, the announcement was to be made. Feanaro’s father knew (although Nerdanel was not privy to his opinion of it yet) as did her own parents, but beyond that no one did. Frankly, it terrified her.

With her face still buried against his chest, she mumbled to him again. “They will want you to marry a lady. A lady of a great house, with a great sense of nobility about her, and a great beauty too.” Pulling away, but with her arms still tight around his back, she looked up at him with a smile. She was no great lady, and certainly no great beauty. Her lack of fairness would set tongues wagging, surely, if her father’s lack of lordship did not. “They will want a pretty - a dainty - lady on your arm. I’m a stonemason, and smith! I don’t think I fit the idea of what your people might have for the wife of the prince.”

It did not upset her. It did not concern her if others thought her face un-comely for that was not what defined her. She had the luxury of craft to define her, after all, but it was a nagging worry that their marriage might be judged harshly for her lack of loveliness. She laughed again, and once more hid her face against her chest. “You are not to let go of my hand once during this!”

     Fëanáro brushed his fingertips, his thumb against all the others, insistently, as if he did not know their calluses one by one. He did not stop, not until he decided to place his hands on Nerdanel's shoulders, and there they finally rested. Now he was remarkably still for his usual standards, and his wandering gaze eventually found peace upon her face. The vibration of her laughter, which he felt in his arms, against his chest, brought a smile on his lips as well, if a brief one.

          He would not let go of her hand, and that much he had not to clarify out loud. It was a certainty of his thoughts, which she could feel as much as the weight of his palms, if she sought to. « I am vaguely aware of what they want. Still, I do not care that much, and I have not a single doubt when I say that, if there is someone who should adapt their ideas, that is them. I decided, you decided, it is already done. »

          Half of him did not care about the public opinion, the other half was not concerned with learning its nuances; not when it came to Nerdanel. Maybe he was not going to marry a dainty lady, but he was indeed going to marry an artist, and not only a body but also a mind. Those who could understand gained his respect, the others his disdain, and in neither case he was going to lose anything at all. 

✉ What is your favourite bromance/friendship/non-romance relationship with your muse?

In terms of bromance with an actual brother, I love writing about Fingon and Turgon, even if it gets a bit turbulent later on. They're similar enough that they work well together at need and butt heads at the worst of times, but then different enough that they can either complement one another or entirely fail to compromise. 

Which isn't to say that Fingon's relationship with Argon wouldn't also be interesting, but I haven't done as much threads with my Argon and don't think I've explored that one deep enough to say much about its bromance potential (and there's really not much to work off of in terms of actual canon of course).