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Does She or Doesn't She?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Disclaimer: The characters and setting are the property of Tolkien and I make no money from this.

Betas: Marcia and Vicki

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She wanders amidst the wild flowers and trees on the slopes of Mount Taniquetil. Her white dress with its long wispy sleeves whispers and whirls about her as she twirls, dancing to the song in her heart. She can feel her golden hair caress her arms and back like a loverís gentle touch.

She always becomes whimsical and dreamy like this when her thoughts stray to her dearest love. He does not know that he is her dearest love, of course, but he has been since she first saw him in Cuievenen before the elves began the journey to Valinor.

He was sitting by the lake, singing a song of praise to the stars in the endless night for their shimmering brightness. She stole closer to admire his lean muscular form, but he was so attuned to his surroundings that he sensed her immediately. He looked over at her in the midst of his song, directly meeting her shy gaze with his beautiful blue-grey eyes. His song continued, and she was so caught up in the music and his eyes that she could only stare in wonder; enamored. When his song ended, she ran away, ashamed to her very core that she who had not yet reached her majority had the audacity to stare so admiringly at an adult male. After that, she watched him, loving him from afar; only losing touch with him when their respective peoples Ė the Vanyar and the Noldor separated while journeying to Aman.

When their peoples finally dwelt together in Aman, in newly built Tirion, she witnessed his courtship of a lovely dark haired maiden of his own people. Always seeking for the goodness life brings, with the knowledge that all things are pre-ordained in the great Music of the Ainur; she felt no resentment or jealousy toward the lady when he married her. Instead, she rejoiced for the joy she saw in him at his wedding. She even praised the Valar for the delight and pride on his face as he presented his firstborn son at the naming ceremony.

His lack of response to her has never deterred her from feeling giddy with love and loveís sweet song when she thought on him then or now.

Recently, she has rested still and silent in mourning for her beloved in his sorrow and grief at the loss of his wife. The Noldorin lady had poured so much of her life and strength into the child she bore him that her spirit surrendered itself to Mandos. Death is unnatural for an elf in Aman, and the lady was the first elf to die here.

Long has her brother entreated the mourning Noldo, her love and her brotherís own dear friend, to come to Taniquetil for healing and respite from his grief. Long has he respectfully declined; unable to break out of his shroud of sorrow.

Laurelin is shining brightly now, the golden tree bathing the holy mountain in its blessed light. It feels so good to be dancing again. Stopping briefly amidst the wild flowers, she plucks one with large golden petals. Inhaling its heady fragrance, she smiles in delight, deciding it is the best scent for the song in her heart right now. Tucking the blossom behind her ear, she sweeps and twirls her way through the bushes toward the mountain path.

Lifting her head her breath catches in her throat; the very beat of her heart stills, as dancing abruptly halts mid-whirl. Coming up the trail before her now, his raven dark hair shining in the light and serious thought resting on his high, noble brow, is her love. His arrival unlooked for and unannounced, he has come at last.

Does she call to him? Does she go to him and tell him of her feelings for him? Does she dare hope that he could ever return her love? Does she take this gift of opportunity for the song of her life to be joined with the song of his?

Does she or does she not?

Suddenly the song in her heart, filled with age old love, wells up so loud and so strong that it finds her voice without waiting for her permission. The music that bursts forth from her, like to the song of the lirulin, captures his attention. He looks up with those exquisite blue-grey eyes, piercing her very being. Their gazes lock as they once did so long ago, and she knows he is aware of her great love for him. In that instant, she also realizes that his heart has at last turned to her.

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Twleve years later, after the time of waiting decreed by the Valar before a second marriage, King Finwe of the Noldor wedded Indis the Fair, sister of King Ingwe of the Vanyar the high king of all of the elves.
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Lirulin - nightengale

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