Reunion

DISCLAIMER: Usual drill. Don't own anything, but I wish I did.

Author's Note: This plot-bunny hopped into my head and would not go away.

It is a beautiful spring morning. Fingolfin is at his desk, just finishing a letter when there is a knock on his study door. He puts down his quill, stands, and calls: "Enter!"

It is Anairë. Her face is wet with tears, and the smile on her face is even brighter than the sunlight pouring through the window. Fingolfin is about to ask his wife what the matter is when he sees she is leading someone by the hand. His breath catches in his throat and he is unable to speak.

He is wearing a white tunic, leggings and shoes; his long black hair is loose down his back. He looks surprisingly young without his hair in braids. On seeing Fingolfin, he smiles almost shyly.

"Father." It is a voice Fingolfin has sorely missed and has been waiting to hear.

"Come here," Fingolfin whispers, holding out his arms.

Anairë lets go of her son's hand, and Fingon rushes into his father's embrace. Fingolfin wraps his arms around his firstborn and presses him to his heart. Tears run down his cheeks and he feels the sudden urge to clasp his son around the waist, lift him up and swing him round. He barely stops himself: Fingon may have been reimbodied, but he is not an elfling.

Instead Fingolfin laughs with joy, holds his son close to him, kisses Fingon's head over and over again and says softly: "Welcome home."

Hope you enjoyed it!