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The Moon Lives in the Lining of Your Skin

Summary:

"The first time he had seen her she had been tending to a grove that had been burned during a sudden wildfire that consumed the outlying villages of his realm.
When they had left it had the bareness of a battlefield, but as the maia spun and danced in her moss green dress it came back to life.
He wonders if this was how Thingol felt when he met his beloved Melian.
Was he as entranced by Melian as Gil-Galad was of this red-haired creature dancing in the sunlight?"
In which Melian and Thingol are not the only Maia and Elf romance to exist in Middle Earth

Chapter Text

The first time he had seen her she had been tending to a grove that had been burned during a sudden wildfire that consumed the outlying villages of his realm.

When they had left it had the bareness of a battlefield, but as the maia spun and danced in her moss green dress it came back to life.

He wonders if this was how Thingol felt when he met his beloved Melian.

Was he as entranced by Melian as Gil-Galad was of this red-haired creature dancing in the sunlight?

He had been out riding, wearing none of his sigils or anything that would let her know he was the King of the lands she was in. Gil-Galad supposed that made it better, especially when she picked up her skirts and gave him a mischievous smile.

“Come find me.” She had whispered as she took off running and laughing as the woods returned to life behind her.

Gil-Galad raced after her, but he never did find the mysterious maiden.

"Lóteriel, I will find you ,Lóteriel!" the Elven King shouts to the trees.

The second time he saw her, she was sitting by a river, and he had gotten lost and injured on a hunt gone wrong.

Had he been in a better condition he may have heard the rushing of a swift current hiding under still waters of a seemingly shallow river.

Had he been paying attention to anything else but his relief at finding her he wouldn’t have stepped into the river.


“My lady, save me.” The words were lost in the roaring of the current. “Save me, Lóteriel.”

The river was enchanted to keep intruders out, had Erinti not been there he would have drowned and never found.

No orc, no troll, no human, no elf, no dwarf and no harfoots have ever survived it. Even the entwives who lived with her knew better than to get in it.

But this elf had not known that, to him it appears like any narrow river, and he cannot hear the way the current rushes faster than any of Oromë’s horses.

Erinti could not guard an entire kingdom like Melian did with her girdle, but this part of the hills was a small haven itself. A haven this elf lord had broken into and would have paid for with his life.

But he was quite handsome and rather obvious in his infatuation with her, so she believed it would be very awful if he perished and hoped Eru did not punish her for stealing a life that may have been needed in Mandos.

Erinti had taken him out of the river, but most of the damage had been done, his poor horse would never be found and the rider had far too many injuries for her liking. He may be one of the eldar, but not even the eldar was immune to injuries like that.

Erinti may be a servant of Yavanna and Vanna, but her healing abilities were meager at best. Her abilities lied in making nature awake in spring or after a disaster, not saving people.

“You are rather bold to enter my realm.” She said placing her hands again on his broken leg. It was really broken, like if they had been humans, they would’ve just killed the man. “Had I not been there you would have died along with your horse.”

“Forgive me, my lady, I was overtaken by your beauty.” As he is now, the ellon was young barely in his majority, and like all young people, he is easily beguiled by her unnatural beauty.

Enough to almost kill himself earlier this evening.

“A rather stupid thing to do, my lord.” She scolded him. “What is your name?” she asked as he got comfortable in her modest bed.

He was wearing an old tunic Erinti had from their time in Doriath and still damp from the river, but he showed no signs of discomfort and pain…yet.

There is a pause, a telltale sign that he is lying by omission. “Rodnor, or Artanaro if you prefer Quenya over Sindarin.”

A noldo, she should have known by his looks. Noldos have gray eyes with hints of golden brown or even black like coal.

Sindarin and Silvan elves had hints of green, Teleri blue like the sea, the Vanyar the yellow gold sunshine or the cool silver of the moonlight.

Rodnor’s eyes shine like clear diamonds, like the brightest of Varda’s stars.

Finwë used to have eyes like that, all his children had eyes like that with the exception of Finarfin who had the golden hues of the Vanyar.

Rarely did sons inherit their eye colors of their mothers, but Finarfin was one of those rare cases.

A shame Erinti did not have much knowledge about the Finweans. Who could his father be?

“Well met, noble fire, I apologize for what happens next and hope you do not hold it against me.” She takes advantage of the improper thoughts he is getting as her hands moved from his ankle to his knee. The tunic fit him a bit shorter than it had when she had worn it as Melian’s sometimes brother, that combined with his infatuation with her spelled trouble for the both of them.

If Erinti had applied herself to the healing arts, she could find a less painful way to set broken bones, but she does not know any other way. At least his bones had not splintered, splinters made healing difficult, could leave a flaw even Melian could not heal without great difficulty.

He tries to bite back the pain, but he is sweating and shouting by the time his broken leg returns to its original state. “You are a terrible healer, my lady.” He says as he tries to compose himself.

“Call me Erinti, but I like the name you gave me so much I wish to keep it.” She said making it worse.

“Lóteriel.” The sound of it is so beautiful it makes her heart sing. “Lothriel, in Sindarin.”

Crowned with Flowers.

It was rather sweet of him to give her a name, and such a lovely name it was.

Maybe she should rejoin society for a while, just to make sure he does not die.