Across the ages, their passionate yet dangerous bond has remained unbroken. She has known him by many names as Mairon the Admirable, Annatar the Lord of Gifts, as the sinister royal counselor in the last days of Númenor. As a demi-god in disguise, a...
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Humid summer mist spilled across the silvery green slopes in the fading light of Laurelin outside the home of Calarmo. The hum of voices filled the great hall where a modest feast was commencing. The guests from Tirion were departing in the morning, including her dear older brother Náretarnon.
Luimëníssë's mother and father had announced to the intimate gathering of family that they were to have a child in the next year. Even though her mother's smile seemed a little strained, Luimëníssë breathed a sigh of relief as her father pressed a kiss to his wife's temple and tears of joy filled her mother's grey eyes. Despite the shadow of what her mother had confessed to her, Luimëníssë was certain all would be well with her family.
Slipping out the corridor that led to the kitchens, Luimëníssë escaped onto the balcony that overlooked the fields leading inland. The gentle hills and sparse woods of their country were illuminated by the unfurling of Telperion, the constellations brilliant overhead. Crossing an arm over her chest, she pressed the pearl ring to her lips and closed her eyes.
"You need a reprieve from all the conviviality as well?" A toneless voice spoke from the shadows.
At a corner of the railing, under the curved spine of an ancient apple tree, a shadow moved. Curvo hopped down from where he reclined with his back against the wall and strolled to her side. The satin sweep of his midnight hair swayed across his chest, he was clad in his usual black raiment with silver accents. Luimëníssë stiffened. She'd wanted to make a break for her tryst with Rembano, but now she was stuck. She forced a smile as the Fëanorian twirled a downy, apple blossom between his nimble fingers.
"It is a lovely evening," she said, tapping her hands on the railing, calculating how she was going to slip away without him asking too many questions. She was a miserable liar.
"Those ruby hair pins are very fine." He motioned to her twists of silver hair held up by the ornaments. "Where are those from? Or did you just happen to find them on a cliff somewhere as well, like your little bauble there?"
The familiar serrated edge to his voice set her on guard. Luimëníssë chose to pretend she didn't hear it and gave a bright laugh. "Oh no, these were a gift from my brother. He made them, he said you helped him a little as well so thank you."
Curvo swirled around, pressing his back to the railing, his inquisitive gaze hard on her face. "I said before that you weren't what I expected, Luimëníssë. But I never took you as one for dabbling in falsehoods."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about that ring. You didn't just happen to find it, did you? I could tell in your eyes when we spoke two days ago. Did you steal it?"
Silence permeated the space between them, broken only by the song of a nightingale and the chirp of insects in the meadows beyond. "Perhaps once but then- then it became a gift." She knew it was a weak answer and his acidic scoff was understandable, if infuriating.
