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Love was a double-edged sword. It could uplift to the peaks of bliss and euphoria, colour the world more saturated and make even the most mundane of activities seem thrilling. However, it could also throw you into the pit of despair and drown you with grief. It made you vulnerable to being exploited and turn the world grey.
The warm spring breeze had the water ripple over Tarn Aeluin in eastern Dorthonion. The daisies, crocuses and wild tulips gently whipped their heads in the breeze. Birds were singing. At the shore of Tarn Aeluin, Andreth was sitting, looking out over the lake, her hair falling in a braid down her back. A few strands were released by the wind and were tickling her face.
“What are you thinking about, Saelind?”
Andreth looked down at her lap, where Aegnor’s head was resting, his unruly golden hair between her fingers. Their relationship was a strange limbo: While both were aware that the other harboured romantic feelings, those were not given the chance to properly blossom into flowers of love. Those buds stayed untouched, though for how much longer she did not know. Apparently, she had stayed quiet for too long, as Aegnor made an inquisitive noise.
“About love.”, she answered, leaning back on her lower arms and looking up at the green treetops.
“Is that so?”, Aegnor softly asked. He sat up and supported himself on his forearms, his face merely a few centimetres away from Andreth’s. “What is the result of your pondering?”
“I do not know. I was merely thinking about its duality; how it can bring both bliss and pain.”
Sometimes, it was difficult to think whenever Aegnor looked into her eyes, for his own shone with a light she neither possessed nor had she witnessed it. Few times had he told her of the country of his birth far across the ocean, and Andreth had often marvelled at those tales. She did not think him a liar, or that those tales of the Two Trees were exaggerated. Aegnor did not deceive.
“I find it hard to believe you do not have a spouse. Compared to us, you are ancient. You have seen a world which is no more. You have lived in bliss in paradise. You cannot tell me there is no elven maiden who has stirred your heart with love.”, she said, playing with the soft grass.
“Yet it is the truth, however, there is a maiden who has stirred my heart, though she is no elf but a human.”, Aegnor confessed and he held his breath. Had he overstepped? Although, Andreth began that sensitive topic, but what if she had merely intended a philosophical conversation?
“Which is why you cannot love me!”, Andreth cried out and rose to her feet. She only walked a few steps before she halted again, her arms wrapped around herself and her back turned to Aegnor.
“My life is a mere blink of an eye in your existence. Saelind, you call me, yet to you I must seem as ignorant as a child. What can I offer you that an elven woman cannot? Nothing. I’ll be dead in a few decades, perhaps even earlier if some sickness is too fatal. I might be in the spring of my life, but with every year, nay, every day winter is approaching. I’m going to wither. My skin will be loose and wrinkled, my back bent, my grace gone. My hair will be white, perhaps even thinned. Everything that is beautiful now will be saggy and unappealing. All the while, you would remain the same. People would whisper; they would pity you having a hag for a wife. You cannot, should not love me. Abandon whatever you feel for me and find an elf maiden who can be by your side always, and who is worthy to be by your side.”
For a few seconds, only the birds sang in the trees. Andreth closed her eyes as her heart clenched in her chest. Perhaps he had left. She did not dare turn back, for the sight of his empty imprint on the grass would shatter her, even if she herself had willed it.
“While I agree with parts of your speech, with some I disagree.”, Aegnor spoke up and her eyes shot open. Aegnor continued, his voice growing closer.
“I call you Saelind - Wise-heart - because you are wise. Wisdom betrays nothing of one’s age. Look at my family. My cousins are old, but they are not wise. A human, though a fraction of an Elf’s age, can surpass the latter in many things, one of them being wisdom. You will age, that is the inevitable truth. While we Elves enjoy perpetual summer, Man goes through the seasons of the world. If you think I could ever be ashamed of your old appearance, then you are gravely mistaken.”
He moved in front of her, on eye-level due to the mild descent of the ground. Andreth blinked harshly, the sincerity in his face moving her to tears. Gently, he took her hands and held them over his heart.
“Even once you’ll be old, wrinkled and grey, there would be no sight more beautiful. Forget the elvish women, they do not compare to you, no matter your age.”
“I have already robbed you of your chance to find a proper spouse. Forgive me.”, Andreth whispered, but Aegnor shook his head, his wild curls falling into his face. He moved a bit closer and bowed down until their foreheads touched. Her hands he kept over his heart.
“No, Andreth. You have not robbed me of anything. I would rather enjoy what time I have with you instead of living in a world where I do not know you. That said, I will respect your wish. If you wish me to leave, then I’ll leave. If you wish for nothing but friendship, then it’ll be so. If you wish to deepen our relationship, then it’ll be so. The choice is yours, Andreth.”
A shaky sob escaped her, for she knew he spoke the truth. Aegnor would accept her choice, no matter what it was. She freed one of her hands to dry her tears and gather some composure.
“You should not have to settle for crumbs.”, she said.
“I am not.”, he simply answered. While he appeared calm on the surface, his emotions were in turmoil. Naturally, he hoped Andreth would choose him, but even if she sent him away he would be glad, for he knew she existed and that his heart had a home.
Andreth closed her eyes. Her thoughts were whirring in her head, thinking, thinking, thinking. What would his family say? She might be of the House of Bëor and enjoy friendship with Finrod Felagund, but there was a difference between a platonic and a romantic relationship between an Elf and a Man. Such a thing has never existed in the history of Arda. And Aegnor was related to the Fëanorians, who she had heard so much about…
Andreth made a decision. Barely opening her eyes, she tilted her head upwards. His lips were soft and Aegnor inhaled sharply in surprise before reciprocating. His arm wrapped around her waist while her free hand grabbed his shoulder. The other hand still rested underneath his hand over his heart. When they broke apart, they looked at each other. Then, a blinding smile grew on Aegnor’s lips and he laughed, Andreth joining in. She shrieked when he grabbed her and whirled her around, the joy radiating off of him. Aegnor kissed her again and Andreth knew that, even though it will not always be easy, she had chosen correctly.