Chapter 6-Nosse

YT 1405

Finarfin turned left from the balcony, leading Feangol down the hallway passing four rooms before stopping before an open doorway. "Since you will spending an extended period of time in Tirion, I believe it fitting for you to have this room." The Noldor prince shifted to the side, allowing the silver haired elf to enter. Feangol passed through the arched entrance, marveling at the splendor of the room. Murals lined the walls, depicting scenes of a great forest. The leaves shimmered in vibrant colors of green, while a deep blue lake sparkled in the central wall and he moved closer, inspecting the design, noting that the entirety of color was made from the jewels in the earth. High above, light filtered down and he tilted his head back, a glass dome visible and he smiled at the warmth. Olórin turned his head to the right, spying an open balcony and he stepped out, finding he could see the great forest and mountains of Valinor.

"It is a beautiful room, my lord. I am honored that you would grant me such a place of rest."

Finarfin smiled, coming to stand beside him. "It is an honor to have you here in my home," He began, studying the expanse of territory below. "My daughter also wishes for you to feel comfortable and to enjoy your time here in the great city," Turning, the Noldor smiled, waving over his shoulder. "Come. Let us have some lunch then we will talk of things."

The Maia nodded and followed, still filled with nervousness at what the Noldor king wanted to discuss with him and they made their way down the staircase, turning right and heading into a smaller room, where a great table lay in the center. Fresh fruit, cheese, and bread lined the table and Olórin sat down where Finarfin indicated, taking a small amount of food at his insistence, eating quietly until the older elf spoke.

"How is the food, Feangol?"

The silver haired elf took a small sip of wine from the silver goblet, lowering it down gently as he replied, "It is most palatable, my lord. I thank you for allowing me to partake of your food."

Finarfin smiled. This elf was indeed rather humble and polite just as his daughter and his wife had informed him and he could see why Alatáriel was fond of Feangol. And there was power there, reflected in the vibrant blue of the boy's eyes, that could not be denied. Being married to a Teleri had allowed the blond elf to interact with many of his wife's people, but few had the strength that Feangol possessed, even at so young an age. Yes. He would be a good match for her. He thought as he asked,

"Tell me, Feangol. What do you think of my daughter?"

Olórin blinked at the question, voice soft. " Alatáriel is my best friend. Even though we've been apart from each other for some years, she has always been foremost in my thoughts and my heart. I am beyond happy to be in her presence once again."

"It brings me joy to hear of this, Feangol." Finarfin replied, smiling warmly at the younger elf. "My daughter has told me much of you and your exploits in Alqualondë. She also told me you have a gift of song and verse that makes her heart sing in joy."

The Maia blushed, lowering his gaze. "I am just a simple elf, my lord. I sing for my lady because it pleases her and her smile brings light to my soul."

"You love her then, do you not?"

Olórin snapped his gaze up, that nervous feeling blooming once again and he lifted his hand, resting over his fluttery heart. Did he love her? The longing he felt to be reunited with his Melda Heri was strong and only tempered by the knowledge he would see her again someday. And now, during their reunion, that deep ache in his heart had vanished, replaced with a warmth that washed over him upon being in her presence once more. "Yes..." He whispered, brow furrowed at how quiet his voice was and he straightened his frame, his tone more confident as he spoke. "Yes. I do love Alatáriel. She is my Melda Heri and I would do whatever she asked, if it so pleased her."

Finarfin smiled, sensing the truth of Feangol's words. "I am glad to hear of this, Feangol, for my daughter has said much the same of you."

"She... She has?" Olórin stammered, frowning when the older elf let out a soft laugh.

"Why are you so surprised? Did you not think she would return such feelings? One would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not notice how deeply she cares for you."

Olórin's features relaxed at his words, feeling silly again though he spoke calmly. "It makes me happy to know my lady cares for me. My greatest wish is to remain at her side for as long as she will allow me."

"Have you told her of this, Feangol?"

The Maia shook his head. "No, my lord. I do not want to... press her for anything. Being near her is enough for me. The decision should always be hers."

"You are a gentle elf, I can tell," Finarfin began, studying the younger elf. "But there is also great strength within your spirit. You are a good match for my daughter and if the time comes that you two wish to be united in marriage, you will have my blessing."

Olórin felt heat bloom along his cheeks and he managed to reply without sounding like a child. "You honor me with your words, my lord. If my lady at some point in time decides she wishes to take me as her husband, I will consent with all my heart."

"When that time comes we will discuss the matter further. But for now, let us finish our meal then you may go and find my daughter. I am sure she is most anxious to spend time with you."

"Yes, my lord." The Maia replied and once the meal was finished, he set off to find Alatáriel. He could sense her outside of the house and so he exited through the front door, finding the lady sitting upon a bench near a willow tree. He watched as her gaze shifted over to him, an open smile upon her lovely features and she beckoned him to come sit beside her.

"How was your visit with father?" She asked, watching as the silver haired elf gracefully walked towards her, admiring the sight of his form. He had grown much since she last saw him and her heart warmed at the love she could see reflected in the sapphire pools of his eyes as their gazes met.

"It went surprisingly well," Olórin began as he lowered himself to sit to the lady's left. "Your father asked of my feelings for you."

"Is that so?" Alatáriel began, finding the blush on his skin rather cute and she reached out to caress his cheek. "What was your answer?"

Olórin found her touch to his face comforting, leaning into it as he spoke in softer tones. "That you are my Melda Heri and that I would do anything you asked of me if it pleased you. I told him my greatest wish was to remain at your side for as long as you allowed it."

Alatáriel smiled tenderly, lowering her hand to rest over his. "You make my heart sing, Feangol. I do not wish for you to leave here. Not unless I am allowed to go with you."

The Maia looked down at his lady's hand over his own and he whispered reverently, "Then I will remain at your side as long as there is life in me."

His words were always musical to her ears and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Then it is settled. You shall stay with me in Tirion," The lady rose, her hand clasping his as she gently pulled him to stand with her. "Come. There is something I wish to show you."

Olórin followed Alatáriel back into the house and up the stairs, his hand still in hers as she led him down the long corridor and into a large bed chamber, silver and gold dominated the decor and his eyes shifted beyond the large bed to the nearby crystal shelf upon which lay the nemmiril that the silver haired elf had procured for her long ago. The water jewel glowed brightly, bypassing the glass display that surrounded it and he walked over, murmuring. "You kept it? Even after all this time?"

"How could I not keep it?" The she-elf replied, coming to stand beside him. "It was a gift from the one closest to me. From the one whom I love."

Olórin shifted his gaze from the jewel over to her, bowing his head slightly in shyness. "My lady... I..."

Her fingertips silenced his lips and he lifted his head, his eyes focused on the tender ones of Alatáriel. "Words are not needed, Feangol. I know your heart and you know mine. That is all that matters in this world."

He searched her gaze, finding the truth in her words and he reached up, gently taking her hand, lowering it to kiss the top. "As you say, my lady."

"Alatáriel..." The she-elf said softly. "Just Alatáriel."

He noted the twinkling in her azure orbs and smiled at the gentle teasing, remembering their introduction long ago. "Alatáriel." He conceded, reluctantly letting her hand go, watching as she moved over to sit in one of the crystal chairs near a table and he followed, sitting opposite of her.

"Now tell me of your journey. Did anything interesting happen?"

The Maia relayed his tale, leaving out the part of receiving Haldanar, brow furrowed at the concerned look that bloomed on his lady's features.

"So Oromë thinks this is the work of Melkor?" She asked, noting the hesitation of her beloved Feangol to answer and she wondered if it had to do with his dark vision.

"Yes." The Maia replied after a few seconds. He did not want to frighten Alatáriel with his suspicions though he knew he must tell her some truth of what he believed. "I also believe Melkor is up to something. The Vala of the Hunt warned me to be mindful of his presence. That Melkor was spending time among the Noldor and that little good could come from it."

Alatáriel tilted her head. "Hmm... Father has mentioned something about some of the Noldor gaining new knowledge. Perhaps that is due to Melkor's influence."

"It is likely that the Vala has influenced their recent crafts and designs, though I would not trust him to offer any real assistance."

There was fear in the timbre of Feangol's voice but she did not press him on the issue, instead she favored him with a smile and stood up, voice light as she asked. "Why don't we go for a walk? I can show you around Tirion so that you may gain a better grasp of it's layout."

Olórin returned her smile, rising at her motion and nodded. "As you wish, Alatáriel."

The pair strolled back into the city, walking hand in hand as the lady pointed out the various homes of the other Noldor royalty, coming to a stop near a water fountain in the shape of a swan, her eyes shifting skyward as the glow of Laurelin faded and the silver of Telperion took it's place. "This is one of my favorite spots in the city." Alatáriel whispered, shifted her gaze back down. Reaching out she gently danced her fingertips around the surface of the pool. "This swan was commissioned by my grandmother Indis, as a gift for mother. My father wanted it placed here in honor of the few Teleri that reside in the city."

Olórin listened quietly, coming to stand to her left as he mimicked her motions. "It is a lovely water fountain. I can see why it appeals to you so deeply."

"Does it not for you, Feangol?"

The silver haired elf kept his gaze cast downward. "I admit I do miss the sound of waves crashing on the sandy shores. The swan is a good reminder of Alqualondë. But I also enjoy the sound of the wind through the trees and the feel of grass beneath my feet."

Alatáriel laughed softly, turning to sit sideways on the fountain edge, studying her friend. "I forgot for a moment of your love of the land. Perhaps someday soon we can take a trip into the interior of Valinor. I do long to see the two trees again."

Olórin blushed a bit at laugh, no longer surprised at how easily such a simple thing as a laugh from his Melda Heri affected him. "If your father will allow it, we shall go on a journey anywhere you wish to go."

"I will have to ask him. I find the idea of leaving the city without an escort rather intriguing. Though with you at my side I do believe no danger will come to me."

"I will not let harm come to you, Alatáriel." The Maia replied, lifting his gaze, blinking at the sudden closeness of his lady's face to his own. She was even more beautiful at this distance, her skin unblemished and her features perfect in form. The silver light caught the golden tresses of her hair, making them glow and his breath caught in his throat at the sudden sense of emotion he felt from their shared connection. Olórin had never experienced the intensity of such feelings before and it made his heart hammer in his chest at the open display of adoration in Alatáriel's eyes.

"Nor will I let any harm come to you, Feangol." She whispered, her gaze unwavering as she studied the silver haired elf's face. He was beautiful to her. Strong and lean and wonderful. Her Feangol. She hesitated, wondering if he knew the depth of her feelings for him only to widen her eyes in surprise as he reached out to trace the back of his fingers along her cheek.

He was nervous and uncertain how to react to the intensity of her feelings for him and it took a few moments for Olórin to remember the proper displays of affection lovers gave to one another. At last he reacted, reaching out to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, his voice lower and deeper than his usual timbre. "You are more lovely than the call of the sea and more bright than the light of Varda's stars. I'm spellbound by you, Alatáriel ."

She leaned into his touch, reaching out to caress his cheek. "My Feangol."

"Yes, my lady." He replied, turning his head to kiss her wrist. "Always yours."

Heat flashed across her features at his claim and she leaned in, resting her forehead against his, her lips nearly upon his own as she whispered. "And I am yours, Feangol."

Olórin felt move Alatáriel closer, her lips suddenly brushing against his. It was soft, innocent, and wonderful. The sensation was electric and he returned it shyly, tasting her for the first time, heart threatening to burst from his chest, reveling in the new sensation, pulling back as she did, beaming fondly at her, happy in this precious moment in time, brow furrowing at the sound of a male's voice behind him.

"Well now, isn't this touching?"

Alatáriel cast her gaze beyond Feangol's shoulder, her voice as cool as her features as she spoke. "What do you want, Curufinwë?"

"I was just taking a stroll through Tirion," The tall, dark haired man replied, a sneer on his lips as he added, "and just happened to find you here with your... friend. Whatever were you two up to, hmm?"

"It is not your concern." Alatáriel spoke icily, disdain on her face as she glared at her cousin.

"No. But that doesn't mean I have to approve of such an affront to your Noldor heritage. A Telerin, really, Alatáriel? I could knock him down with one blow, weak as his line is."

Olórin sensed the growing hostility, the challenge in the dark haired elf's words direct and heated and he wondered why this Curufinwë was so angry at a simple thing as the closeness of he and Alatáriel. Still, the look of insult in the lady's eyes towards the intruder steeled his will and he rose slowly, turning to face the taller elf. "I don't believe we've met before," He began, trying to smooth things between his lady and the newcomer. "I am Feangol, a student of King Olwë, friend to Alatáriel, and representative of Alqualondë."

The dark haired Noldor frowned, eyes narrowed at the power reflected in the smaller elf's eyes, finding it a bit unsettling though he covered it up by growling out, "I don't care where you've come from Telerin or your name. You are in the city of Tirion, home of the great Noldor. You will do well to remember your place here."

He brushed roughly past Feangol, surprise on his features when the Telerin remained firmly in his spot, unmoved from the physical contact.

The pair watched as the dark haired elf stalked off, Olórin lowering his gaze to his Melda Heri as he asked, "Who was that?"

"His name is Curufinwë," Alatáriel answered with a sigh. "One of Fëanáro's sons. He is my uncle's favorite child and the most like him in personality. Quick to fight and quick to argue. He is as obstinate and ill-willed towards my family line as his father, though he seems more hostile to my other uncle, Aracáno, and his family."

The Maia shook his head. "There is a darkness in his eyes I did not like. He seemed to want to start a physical confrontation with me, though I do not understand why."

"Because he's a bully," Alatáriel replied, her gaze making sure her cousin was truly gone before turning back to Feangol. "I am sure if it came to a fight, you would win."

Olórin blinked, murmuring. "I'm not so sure, though if he tried to hurt you I would fight him without hesitation."

The blonde she-elf grinned at him, sliding her arm under his, steering him back towards her home. "I have no doubt that you would come to my aid if I needed it, Feangol. It is one of the many things I love about you."

He walked arm in arm with her, blushing a bit as he spoke. "One of many?"

Alatáriel nodded, favoring him with a happy smile. "One of many things indeed, sweet Feangol." She found being close to him comforting, holding no fear of her cousin or those of his ilk, though the intrusion into her romantic moment with her chosen elf was troubling. Why did it matter what her cousin thought of her growing relationship with Feangol? Being a Telerin had nothing to do with him becoming her chosen husband if she decided to marry. No matter. She thought, looking over to the handsome features of Feangol. They know nothing of love, only hate and anger. They are not worthy of understanding. She reasoned as she walked beside the silver haired elf. "Shall we return home, Feangol? Or do you wish to walk some more through the city?"

Olórin sensed the troubling emotions of his lady but knew it was best to let the matter rest and he gave her a loving smile. "I think I've seen all I need to see of Tirion for the day, Alatáriel," He paused, shifting his gaze straight ahead as he added, "Home sounds good to me."

The lady matched his smile, keeping pace with him as they made their way back to Finarfin's house and the safety of it's borders, each wondering what tomorrow would bring and excited at the prospect of being in the company of the other for as long as life allowed.

Well.. some romance for those who enjoy such things. Hope you enjoyed it. It would be nice if I got a review or two but I know that won't happen and that bums me out to no end and kills my enthusiasm for this story. Anyway, onto notes for those who care to read them.

Nosse- family in Quenya

Indis- Galadriel's grandmother, wife of Finwë and mother to Finarfin and Fingolfin or Aracáno as he's known in Quenya.

Curufinwë- The fourth of seven sons born to Fëanáro and Nerdanel. His father's favorite son and most like him in personality and physical appearance. Devious and prideful and the cause of much misery and dark deeds when he leaves Valinor and enters Middle-Earth. But that will take place later.