I own nothing.


Her sons had both been handsome babies; with Nolofinwë as their father, Anairë would not have expected anything less. Findekáno and Turukáno were handsome babies, and had grown to become handsome boys. But perhaps because Anairë's third child was a daughter, this third child's beauty far outshone the other two.

Anairë's third child was a daughter. After some deliberation, after watching her for a few days, Nolofinwë had named the child Irissë. He seemed positively smitten with her, the way Anairë had seen many fathers grow smitten with their newborn daughters. Findekáno and Turukáno were rather less enamored of their new sister on account of all the crying she did when she was hungry or wanted attention, in Laurelin and Telperion's hours both. Irissë was a very loud baby, louder than either of the boys had been. However, all in all, they seemed happy with the family's new arrival—Turukáno had been saying for a while that he wanted a sister.

And all in all, Anairë was glad to have a new child. She was glad that the long year in which she had born Irissë, full of backaches and weak, trembling legs, was over. She was glad also that Irissë was her third and not her first-born child. Just as she knew many fathers who grew smitten with newborn daughters, she knew many fathers disappointed with firstborn daughters, firstborn children who could not inherit, and many mothers who prayed desperately for a second-born son. Anairë's parents had been a pair such as that; she was grateful that she did not have the same cause for consternation.

Her daughter was healthy, had thrived, had not been born with deformities as Anairë had heard would sometimes happen in Endóre during the days before the Long March. She was beautiful, this baby, and Anairë knew that this would help her in the world. If she was anything like her father and grandfather, she would be strong. If, as an adult, Irissë was anything like what she was now, she would be strong-willed.

Strong-willed…

Anairë frowned.

Laurelin's light was waning; shadows were gathering in the room, in preparation for Telperion's fainter light. Anairë was still in the period of her confinement, not allowed to leave the estate, barely allowed to leave the house. She had spent much of her time on the upper level of the house, in the nursery. She had spent much of her time watching Irissë while she slept, and thinking.

There were many things that Anairë hoped for, for her daughter.

She hoped that Irissë would find happiness the way Anairë had found it. There could be no greater happiness to be found for nissi than there was to be found in marriage. Even now, the idea of her daughter never finding that sort of happiness pierced Anairë's heart with sorrow.

She hoped that Irissë, as she grew, would exhibit proficiency in the arts young girls were expected to learn and master. It was expected of Irissë, even now, that she learn to sew and weave and embroider, that she learn to sing prettily and dance lightly, that she learn to play a musical instrument, usually a harp, but sometimes a lute or a lyre instead. Anairë hoped that her daughter would be able to learn to do all of these things easily, for her lessons would be quite miserable if she couldn't.

She hoped that, as she grew, Irissë would never be too badly affected by the gossip that seemed to surround the royal family wherever they went. It was too much to hope for that the King's granddaughter would never be gossiped about, never whispered over by those who had nothing better to do than pick apart the tiniest flaws of the members of the House of Finwë, but Anairë prayed that Irissë would have the composure to ignore it when it came. She would spend much of her time fuming, if not.

She hoped that Irissë would be possessed of a sense of dignity and composure appropriate to her royal house.

Mostly, Anairë hoped that her daughter would be happy. There were so many ways that she might not end up happy, and the road that would take her to contentment was fraught with difficulties. She could not see what the future held, not for Irissë and not for any of her children.

She smiled down at the sleeping baby in her cradle. Maybe, when Irissë was older, she would show an inclination towards the harp. Anairë could teach her, just as she'd taught Findekáno…


Nolofinwë—Fingolfin
Findekáno—Fingon
Turukáno—Turgon
Irissë—Aredhel

Endóre—Middle-Earth (Quenya)
Nissi—women (singular: nís)