Chapter Text
The sky above Tirion was clear and free from any clouds as you lounged in the sun. The day was pleasantly warm with a wonderful breeze stopping you from overheating. You sat on one of the many outdoor sofas, Morcelair at your side. Valinor suited her well, she’d changed so much since you’d left Beleriand at the end of the first age. She seemed much happier here, as did you.
Aredhel and Maeglin occupied the sofa opposite you, also lazing about in the sun. you remembered how emotional your reunion with your old friend had been, Aredhel already having been reembodied when you’d arrived. Maeglin’s re-embodiment took longer but your reunion was no less glad. As half siblings, Morcelair and Maeglin got along like a house on fire, less than a hundred years between them.
In the distant you could hear the faint sounds of swords clashing, Finrod and Turgon having gone off to spar like they did most afternoons. Other pairs practiced also, many of them having served under the two princes at some point; you found their company extremely entertaining.
“Maybe you should play a song for us.” Aredhel smiled at Morcelair. Her voice was famed for its beauty; but that was no surprise- she had Finrod as a teacher afterall. You made a sound in agreement.
“Any requests?”
Before Aredhel had a chance to reply, she caught sight of someone behind you, walking towards the group. Her face went white, expression one of pure fear. Maeglin’s looked similar. You turned to see what could invoke such a reaction.
Eöl.
He stalked towards you with long strides, a determined look on his face. You felt your blood turn cold, world immediately feeling too small. A familiar feeling returned to you, one you hadn’t felt in at least a millennia.
“Who’s that?” Morcelair asked when she saw how scared you all looked. “Ammë?” She placed a hand on your arm. You didn’t reply.
“Aredhel! Y/N!” Eöl called, drawing closer. You stood abruptly, Aredhel and Maeglin doing the same as your flight or fight responses kicked in. You couldn’t move. Your legs were almost stuck to the floor.
You weren’t sure what to make of Eöl’s smile. It wasn’t predatory but at the same time, you could never tell what he’d do next. All your old fears and insecurities threatened to return as he drew near. You just hoped Finrod would come and save you like he’d done once before.
When he was within arm’s distance, Eöl reached out and drew you in for a hug. You desperately wanted to struggle but your limbs wouldn’t cooperate, you were powerless against him once again. You felt as if you might be physically sick being this close to him.
“Excuse me?” You head Morcelair ask, frowning. Eöl moved his head to look at her and breathed in sharply, looking upon his daughter for the first time. At the intensity of his gaze, Morcelair took a step back.
“Excuse me.” Finrod stood behind her, her back against his chest. He laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment before stepping in front of her. “Unhand my wife.”
If Eöl had been in good spirits and had peaceful intentions before, it certainly changed with that statement. He tensed against you. You felt your heart in your mouth, hating being so close to him, especially when he was full of rage.
“Your wife?” Eöl seethed, drawing back but still keeping his arms around you. You desperately wanted to cower away but were unable to do so.
“Yes. My wife. Get away from her.” Finrod’s voice came out as a growl, jaw clenched. You’d never viewed him as intimidating before. Eöl barked out a laugh and placed a hand on the back of your neck, squeezing possessively. You thought you might pass out. He turned to face Finrod, hand still in place.
“I don’t know who you think you are but-“
Finrod punched him. Hard.
There was a crack and Eöl went stumbling back, clutching at his face as copious amounts of blood dripped from his now crooked nose. Finrod glared at him with narrow eyes, taking a step forward so he was close to you, putting himself between you and Eöl. He eyed the other elf with calculated distain before turning to you.
“Are you alright?” He was softer when dealing with you and you found yourself immensely comforted by it. You weren’t sure. But then you suppose the question really meant ‘were you hurt’? The answer was no, so you nodded. Finrod turned back to Eöl, keeping an arm around your shoulders in a protective display.
“My name is Finrod felagund, son of Finarfin, prince of the Ñoldor, previously King of Nargothrond. I have crossed the grinding ice, fought in many battles, established one of the richest cities in Beleriand and fought off a werewolf with my bare hands. Now, if you touch my wife again you will find yourself very quickly with many enemies. And as for her daughter, she is under my protection just the same.” Finrod didn’t allow him the honour of knowing her name. “I suggest you leave this city with all haste for I’m not sure what I may do if you stay, nor can I say for certain what the actions of my cousin may be. I believe the two of you are familiar with each other.” Finrod gestured to behind Eöl where Turgon stood, face like stone and muscles clenched.
Finrod’s speech seemed to do the trick intimidating Eöl (As did the massive form of an angry Turgon) even though he tried to hide it. After taking a moment to gather himself, Eöl drew himself to stand straight, holding his head high as he retreated back down the path with a ‘humph’. His nose still continued to bleed, very clearly completely broken. You couldn’t help but feel satisfaction as you watched him leave.
“Are you alright?” Finrod asked, now more worried than he’d been before. You didn’t reply, simply coming forward and wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. He hugged you back just as hard, understanding without you having to say a word. Morcelair joined the hug, having figured out what exactly had transpired.
“You need not think of him again, he won’t be bothering us.” Finrod assured you both. “We are a family and he shall not be a part of it.”