Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ëarendil traced the outline of Menelmacar in the sky with one hand, and Elwing hummed contemplatively next to him.

The sand they were lying on was still warm, but the night chill started to creep in, and the sea murmured softly somewhere beyond the rocks. The night was quiet.

Such a contrast to his mind and heart, wasn’t it.

-My people call it Menelvagor.- Elwing whispered, exhaling heavily. She also raised one arm, tracing the stars.

-Menelmacar. At least most call it such.- he smiled despite himself. - Rendo Glorfindel used to insist on calling it Telumehtar.-

-Interesting.- she chuckled, but quickly her mirth died away. -Ëarendil. We should…-

-Talk about it, yeah. - Ëarendil sighed deeply, reluctantly tearing away his eyes from the stars and turning to his side to face his friend. Elwing looked exactly like he felt.

Scared, most of all. Disgusted, a bit. Tired, that too.

He tried to give her a reassuring smile. She just leaned her forehead against his shoulder. She was shorter than him, for now. She would still grow taller, it seemed. He would probably just broaden up a bit.

And wasn’t that fucked up. To be perfectly honest, his whole life was a bit fucked up, but hers truly stole the prize.

-I don’t want to.- she whispered miserably after a moment. - I really don’t.-

Ëarendil exhaled slowly. - I know, El. This is fucked up.-

Elwing snorted into his shoulder mirthlessly. - It’s not even the marriage thing, can you believe it? I always knew on some level I would get married off to you, and that’s fucking reassuring right now. You are you, and you are my friend, and all right, I can bear that thought. But, I…Ëarendil, they want heirs. - she finished with a whisper.

He grimaced. - Right away, wasn’t it.-

The sea gurgled behind the rocks, the silence of the night deafening.

Elwing growled, a sprout of greenery shooting out of the sand around them. - And I don’t want to.- she repeated, digging her fingers into his shirt.

Ëarendil ran a hand down her back a few times. The thought of children was a terrifying one.

Maybe not the thought of his involvement in the singular act of creation of said children, for he had had several terribly embarrassing dreams about Elwing already, but all the rest.

They were meant to have babies? They were barely twenty-eight. He supposed for an Edain it was well into adulthood, but he wasn’t fully Edain, and she especially was far more Elda than anything else. He didn’t feel like an adult. He didn’t want to get married, not now.

Fuck, his father had been older than this when he married his mother.

- Well, at least I’m not hideous to look upon?- he tried for a joke, and Elwing just made an odd sound, shaking her head.

-Ëarendil, no, it’s not that. I just. I. I can’t. The thought alone makes me feel slimy. I know  logically how…marriage works. I know how babies come to be. And it’s not that I wouldn’t like to keep you, or something, or that you are ugly or I don’t know, I don’t like you that way, but.- she pulled away, and he noticed with concern her face streaked with tears. - I think I’m either far too young or broken.-

He swallowed hard, gently cupping her cheek. - You are not broken, El. Why would you think so?-

-Fuck, I don’t know?- she laughed bitterly, gray eyes trembling and glossy with tears. - Maybe because everybody keeps talking about kissing and…other stuff and I just. Can’t visualize it as anything pleasant? Or I don’t know, the fact that it’s not even like most elves, you know, the thing with desiring only somebody who is already close, because Ëarendil, you are really, really handsome. I think I could stare at you for years. But. But I just don’t want. I never even thought of it until now, but I just don’t. Can’t. - Elwing shook her head, looking so lost his heart broke a bit.

-Its fine, El. We can come up with something, I’m sure.- he reassured her with a murmur, lost a bit. - Its the…physical act you would like to avoid, right?- he bit his lip, considering. She nodded, running a hand over his hair.

To him it was weird, honestly. He would really, really like to touch and be touched in turn, or to, ah, Eru, make love with her, just maybe not exactly with children in mind.

But Ëarendil wasn’t stupid. No meant no. And this seemed more of a thing of natural inclination than something else. Like rendor Glorfindel and Ecthelion, who had been married despite being both neri. It was not such a stretch to assume that Elwing could not fancy anyone that way.

The thing was, they didn’t exactly have a choice, did they. Adopting a child wouldn’t work. The council really wanted to reunite the bloodlines, and especially Melian’s blood.

He hugged Elwing closer, resting his chin on top of her head. -We will figure something out.- Ëarendil repeated, trying to will his words into being. - We will.-