I own nothing.
Arafinwë is remarkably more at ease here than he was when he first came to Alqualondë. Eärwen has occasion to know; she has watched over him all of this time, the Lindarin princess ensuring that the Noldorin prince is not too lost as he adjusts to life in the court of Olwë. With a grin she remembers the first time he saw how low to the ground the Lindar prefer their beds to be; apparently both the Vaniai and the Noldor sleep in bed further off of the ground. He gaped at it and muttered something about it looking too much like a pallet for his liking, then glanced at Eärwen and blushed when he realized that she could hear him. That was characteristic of much of his early behavior here—gaping at something that is apparently different in Alqualondë than it is in Tirion, generally being extremely shy and sticking to Eärwen like glue, and saying little.
Given that that is what he behaved like when he first came here, the changes in his behavior is really quite remarkable. When Arafinwë arrived here, he was pleasant enough, but Eärwen did not seriously think that she would see the day when he was able to converse easily with her people, able to move alongside them without the awkwardness that characterized him when he first came here. Eärwen certainly never thought that she would hear Arafinwë adopt Telerin speech patterns—she had thought he'd use that clunky, lisping Noldorin Quenya forever.
It's amazing, honestly.
Also amazing is how quickly he's taken to her brothers. Eärwen knew that Nendil and Élairo wouldn't be anything but kind to him; they're not bad-natured, her younger brothers. But if the three of them had met when Arafinwë was still new here, she doubts that they would ever have become friends; Nendil and Élairo would have been too put off by Arafinwë's shyness, and Arafinwë would have been too put off by their boisterousness. There they are, though, horsing around on the beach like children (Or, in Arafinwë's case, like a significantly younger child than his nearly-grown years).
A few years into Arafinwë's stay in Alqualondë, Eärwen and Arafinwë have finally gone to Tol Eressëa so that the latter can meet the former's brothers, the two Lords of the island. Culúrien's light, though admittedly far weaker on this island than it is on the mainland (and Arafinwë tells her that the light is stronger still in Tirion and Oiolossë), shimmers on the sand and the wetly gleaming pearls nestled in it. Élairo's bright, trilling laughter rings in the air like bells, a good taste of an excellent singing voice.
Eärwen sits on a low stone wall up the dunes from them, her long hair flapping in the wind like a pennant. The wind and the surf is roaring in her ears, so loudly that she can not even hear what Arafinwë and her brothers are talking about. Eärwen does not mind so much—the wind and the surf have filled her ears since infancy, and it is nothing if not a comforting sound. Instead of listening, she watches, and smiles.
It's been a long time since she has seen her brothers. She was already well-grown when they were born, and truth be told, Eärwen sometimes found them a bit annoying when they were tiny boys, but she does love them. It seems hard to believe that they rule the entire island sometimes, with the carefree, rowdy personalities they have, and the separations they must endure are difficult to handle.
Arafinwë seems as though he could just be one of their friends now, a young nér of the Lindar with the blood of the Vaniai in his veins to explain away that golden hair of his. The skin on his arms and his face also now has the faint golden cast of one who spends much of their time basking in Culúrien's light, instead of inside, or wrapped up in many layers of restrictive clothing.
He's much more at peace here than he used to be, that much is plain—Eärwen would have to be blind not to have noticed how stiffly he walked and how ramrod straight he stood when he first came to Alqualondë, and how much more relaxed he is now. His gait and stance is so much more natural, he is so much more at ease. When he smiles now, it makes Eärwen smile to see it, instead of vaguely pitying and wondering when exactly he might faint for how little breathing he does.
"Eärwen!"
Over the roaring of the waves and the wind, she hears Nendil shouting to her. She catches his eye and he waves. "We're going to the lagoon! Do you want to come with us?"
She catches sight of three smiling faces. Hers and Arafinwë's eyes lock and they beam at one another. "Of course I do!" she shouts back, hopping up from her sitting position and racing down the dunes to join them, nearly losing her footing on the soft sand twice and shrieking with laughter all the way down.
Arafinwë—Finarfin
Lindar—'Singers'; the name the Teleri of Aman use to refer to themselves (Quenya)
Vaniai—the Telerin Quenya equivalent of 'Vanyar'
Culúrien—a name for Laurelin, which I apply mostly to the Teleri.
Oiolossë—'Ever-snow-white'; the most common name amongst the Eldar for the mountain (and city of the same name, in my canon) of Taniquetil; I have, however, made it a name more commonly used by the Teleri and especially the Noldor, to explain how the Elves of Middle-Earth came to call the city by the Sindarin translation of this name, 'Amon Uilos'
Nér—man (plural: neri)