Title: Maeglin, My Love
Summary: Maeglin x Idril! Not creepy! Dizzyingly AU. In a surprising twist, Idril turns out not to be so closely related to Maeglin. She falls in love with him. Don't ask me what this means for Tuor and Eärendil - I don't know yet! But it will be all right. :)
Author's Note: The style of this fic is inspired by the "Cats! The Musical" fandom that I have been a part of for a third of my life. Thanks to all of you Cats! writers who have written an improbable or seemingly hopeless pairing between two Jellicle Cats, and made it work. You are the reason I am daring to write this story instead of just wishing.
I've drawn a picture of Maeglin and Idril! Why not check it out? To see it, go to my author bio, click on the Homepage link and then go to the Fanart section. Scroll down to "Illustrations by Fanfic Title" and click on "Maeglin, My Love."
This fanfic will definitely have more illustrations in the future. I'll put author's notes into the beginnings of my chapters to let you know any time I have new pictures posted for the story. :)
Chapter 1: So Wrong To Love
Maeglin, my love... How he had dreamed of hearing those words: hearing her say them, burying his face in that gleaming sunlit hair, feeling her beautiful gentle arms holding him close...
It was still only a dream now. He knew that, though he wished it was otherwise.
Maeglin had lived in the darkness too long. Now, Idril was his sunshine. But he could not dare to tell her that. She's my cousin! he thought in despair, as he often had. It was beyond sin that he should care for her in the way he did. How could he say something so dark to someone so full of light?
He could not dare to tell her, but she already knew. He could see it in her heart as she walked by, shining through her eyes like a dark light of pain and distaste.
There is nothing I can do to keep her from knowing, he thought, even as there is no way I can prevent myself from seeing that she knows. He shook his head, feeling the tears in his heart that his eyes would not shed. I cannot help seeing all that she feels in her eyes! If I could not see all hearts with this keen vision of mine, still I would see hers because I love her so.
Maeglin shook his head, opening his eyes. There was no point in pretending to sleep any more. The sun would be rising over the mountains in only two hours.
Forget trying to distract yourself, he thought. You know and you do not care what time the sun rises. What you shook your head at is the way you dared to think that you love Idril.
Reveling at the sun that poured down into the open central space of Gondolin, Idril Celebrindal danced.
She giggled as her feet flew, remembering a time long ago when she was a little girl. She had danced then too, not here but in another city, with the sun of another year shining in her hair that was already long enough to fly out almost as far as her little arms.
As she twisted and spun, that little girl from so long ago, she had suddenly heard her father's voice, laughing and praising her. "Beautifully done, Silverfoot! Idril Celebrindal!"
Idril had paused in her dancing, looking down at her feet in confusion, picking up first one and then the other to examine it closely. Again, Turgon laughed.
"No, no," he explained to the child, "your feet are not made of silver! It is an epessë, an aftername. Do you know how my cousin Finrod is also called Felagund, Lord of Caves?
Idril had nodded, still feeling confused. What did this have to do with her feet?
"In the same way," Turgon said, "you are now called Celebrindal, or Silverfoot, as well as your own name of Idril. It is an expression of praise for your dancing." Eyes twinkling, her father had asked her, "Do you like it?"
"Oh, Father!" Idril ran towards him, covering the short distance in a single heartbeat, and jumped up all the way into his arms, her lithe young legs launching her three times her own height into the air to land with her arms firmly clasped around his neck. "I love it!" She kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek, then jumped down and ran off, glancing back once to see her father shaking his head with a smile of resigned amusement.
Now, many years of the Sun later, Idril was long since fully grown. Aside from her height and the maturity of her thoughts and understanding, little about her had changed. She still danced with the same abandon, her loose golden hair flying about her as wildly as it ever had, and her bright laughter could still be heard ringing in all the corners of Gondolin, wherever she went.
Suddenly she caught sight of a pair of burning blue-gray eyes, staring at her from an upper window of the palace.
Idril almost stumbled, but that would have been as uncanny as if Fëanor's son Maglor had missed a note while singing. Instead, her feet brought her quickly to a smooth if unexpected halt.
Maeglin! Idril's heart filled with a sudden dismay, replacing her laughter. Why must he think of me the way he does? Feeling cold, she looked up into his eyes, small but piercing in the tower window far above. She felt as if he could read her soul even at this distance, and she reminded herself that it was not just a feeling. She had no doubt he could.
But why is it surprising? she asked herself. I can read his eyes as clearly. The mad longing in his gaze as he stared down at her made her shiver in the bright, warm summer sunlight. If we were not cousins, it wouldn't be so bad, she thought, unsettling as he is. But how can he look at me that way when we are so closely related?
Too frightened to look any longer into those piercing eyes that stared so desperately into her own, Idril turned around, picked up her skirts, and ran away. She wished that this dark, mysterious son of her aunt Aredhel had never come to Gondolin.
Maeglin briefly closed his eyes in despair as she left. Looking out the window and seeing her dancing in all her splendour on the white stones below, he had not been able to convince himself to look away. He had stood transfixed by her beauty, as he was every time he saw her. But I did not want to make her uncomfortable! he thought in silent protest. Yet that was what always happened when he looked at her, as he could not help doing every time she was near.
How can the Valar be so cruel? How can I bring Idril so much pain by wishing to bring her all the happiness in the world? He stared longingly down the narrow street where she had vanished, feeling a sense of horror at himself for being the one who had driven her away.
Is it so wrong to love? Maeglin shook his head angrily, his long black hair swirling gently and gracefully around his shoulders. He saw again the hurt in Idril's eyes as she fled from the plaza where she had been dancing moments earlier. It would seem that it is, when the one who loves is Maeglin.
Author's Note: For the canon origin of the term 'epessë' see Unfinished Tales, page 279.