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Winter has reached Dorthonion. The knee-deep snow swallowed all sound, leaving the land quiet and seemingly desolate. Aegnor pitied his horse as it trudged through the snow and got off its back. His elven feet only sank a few centimetres into the snow and his horse snorted, as if complaining he had ridden it when he could just walk. Aegnor patted the mare’s neck and reached into the bag slung over his shoulders. The carrot was cold, but not yet frozen. Appeased, the mare munched on the carrot when Aegnor grabbed the reins.
The wind was biting, yet it was no comparison to the Helcaraxë. How he despised the cold. He resented it with every fibre of his body and his hatred for it has not lessened over the years. Winter was often unpredictable and Aegnor warily watched the sky. Baran’s stronghold was nearby, and within it resided the reason Aegnor pulled his horse through the snow.
Andreth had invited him to visit the Yule market in the streets of the stronghold. Uncharacteristically hesitant had the bold Andreth been and Aegnor had not had the heart to reject her proposal. She was unaware of it, but he would cross the Helcaraxë once more if she asked it of him. How the human woman had so quickly carved herself into his heart was beyond him, but the memory of spotting her reflection in Aeluin warmed him with longing. Ai, he loved her, yet he dared not speak of it. Despite the Black Foe being quiet for now, they still lived in times of war.
How cruel fate could be. To reveal his heart in treacherous times, forbidding him to speak the tender words heavy in his tongue. How would he dare ask her to wait when her time on Arda was brief? How would he dare bind her to him when he could leave her a widow?
The mare’s whinnies tore him out of his grim thoughts. Aegnor gently tugged on the reins and tried to coax her to continue walking.
“Come now, we are almost there. See the trodden road in the distance? Once we reach it, we will reach Baran’s stronghold faster than you can blink. Then you will get fresh hay and a place in a warm stable. Does that not sound nice?”
Still, the mare did not budge, but instead nosed the bag. Aegnor shook his head in amusement. He had spoiled his horse. He fed her an apple, and after another 30 minutes they finally reached the road.
Aegnor mounted his horse again and was relieved when he passed the gates an hour later. Perhaps I shall stay on the road next time , he mused. I did not expect Dorthonion to be covered with such a thick blanket of snow.
*
The people stared as Aegnor rose past them. He pulled the hood further into his face, but his Elvishness was betrayed by the smallest actions: The way he turned his head, shifted in his saddle, the way his fair skin seemed to shimmer with a light lost to the world - they all betrayed his nature.
Ignoring the people, Aegnor rode to the heart of the stronghold, where Baran lived. An impatient figure was waiting already. Andreth was wrapped in a thick cloak and her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold air. Aegnor got down from his mare and stopped in front of Andreth.
“I almost thought you would not come.”, she confessed and his heart ached sweetly. His eyes never left hers.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to worry you. The amount of snow caught us off-guard as we strayed off the road.”
Andreth laughed. “Indeed, it would be wise to stay on the road during winter. You are fortunate you did not get lost. Come, let us bring your loyal steed to the stables. Afterwards, may I offer you food and drink to warm yourself?”
“That would be lovely.”, Aegnor replied, grateful for the offer.
Upon entering the dining hall, Boromir met the Elven prince.
“Lord Boromir, it is an honour to see you.”, Aegnor said and bowed. Boromir returned the gesture.
“The honour is all mine, my prince. Had I known you would come I would have prepared a feast.”
“That is unnecessary. A simple meal suffices, as I believe I will be fed more at the market afterwards.”, Aegnor said and looked at Andreth, who nodded.
Aegnor was to be proven true. While his meal consisted of a piece of roasted duck and some potatoes, Andreth watched every bite and once she deemed he had eaten enough, she dragged him back outside. Boromir was appalled by his daughter’s treatment of the Elven prince, but Aegnor calmed him. Andreth’s enthusiasm was contagious and even the thought of stepping back into the cold outside could not dampen his mood.
By now, darkness has fallen over Dorthonion. The streets were lit with lanterns, which casted their warm light on their surroundings. Suddenly, the snow did not seem as horrible anymore. Andreth and Aegnor engaged in light conversation until they reached the Yule market. The mix of numerous smells hit his nose, many of which were unfamiliar. A crowd was gathered and their laughter and conversations contributed to a cosy ambience.
Andreth felt her heart flutter in her chest. She would be a liar if she were to deny her nerves being strung tight from anticipation and nervousness. She did not dare take Aegnor’s hand to lead him, so she motioned him to follow her. With a giddy feeling in her chest she watched him look around curiously.
“Come, let us try the mulled wine.”
“Mulled wine?”, Aegnor echoed and followed Andreth to one of the stands. A few seconds later, a hot and steaming cup was pushed into his hands. Andreth smiled at him.
“Cheers.”
Aegnor found himself liking the taste of mulled wine. It was similar to an elven winter drink, but it was more spiced. While Andreth still nursed her first cup, he got a second one.
“Must I drag you home drunk at the end of the evening?”, she asked and Aegnor laughed, earning a few looks.
“I assure you, Saelind, that I will be on my best behaviour.”, he said and mock-bowed. Andreth’s cheeks warmed at the use of her other name. She shook her head with a smile.
“Come, let me show you the market.”
*
Aegnor had not anticipated enjoying himself to the extent he did. He joked with the people, ate his fill and humiliated himself by dancing with Andreth to a song he did not know. Her laugh eased the sting of his wounded pride and he laughed loudly.
It was by pure coincidence that Andreth glanced up. Her face exploded with colour, much to Aegnor’s concern. Above them hung a seemingly innocent plant, yet he wondered about its meaning. It was not the first time Aegnor had seen a mistletoe. For a moment he thought it was decoration, yet Andreth’s reaction made him rethink.
“It seems this plant has a meaning. What human tradition is connected to it?”
“No tradition at all.”, Andreth hastily replied and Aegnor arched his brow. Flustered, Andreth pulled the collar of her winter cloak up to her mouth. Aegnor was fascinated by her red cheeks. How could someone be this lovely?
“It is tradition for people who get caught under the mistletoe to…kiss.”
Aegnor’s elvish hearing caught the reluctantly whispered words and his breath caught in his throat. He glanced back up to the mistletoe. If it was Andreth’s will, he could kiss her, despite not courting each other. Unbidden, his eyes fell on her lips, which were woefully still hidden underneath the collar. It would be un-elven to kiss an unrelated woman, or one he had no romantic relationship with. Aegnor’s cheeks reddened at the mere thought of fulfilling his secret desire.
Andreth thought she might die from the silence between them.
“Please do not think too hard about this! It is a human tradition, do not concern yourself with it.”
“Have you kissed someone underneath the mistletoe before?”, Aegnor asked, bitterness coating his tongue, yet neither voice nor face betrayed any emotion. Andreth averted her eyes and Aegnor had to admit it stung, but he blamed her not. If such traditions existed, it would be naive to think she hadn’t been kissed.
“Twice, in my adolescence.”, Andreth confessed. “But I do not particularly enjoy kissing strangers, and some have bad intentions, loitering around the mistletoes to catch unsuspecting men and women.”
Could he ask her for a kiss? Aegnor was certain she would not reject him, but he did not want her to accept because he was an Elven prince. He did not want to be another man stealing a kiss. His fingers brushed the hem of her sleeve and before he could retract his hand, Andreth’s fingers hesitantly intertwined with his. Their eyes met and Aegnor wondered if she could see the longing on his face.
“Andreth -”
“Yes.”, she breathed and his heart stuttered in his chest.
Andreth felt as if her cheeks were to be permanently on fire. How was one supposed to react when an Elf was looking at them with love and longing? Andreth had met a handful of Elf-women, creatures of unspeakable beauty, yet Aegnor was looking at her as if she was Varda herself. For over a year she had kept her love under lock and key, and had forbidden herself from entertaining fantasies. Aegnor was kind and she had not wanted to be a foolish human woman professing her love. However, the expression of his face told her all she had to know: He loved her as she loved him.
Aegnor lowered his head until their foreheads touched, his wild golden hair like fire surrounding them. He closed his eyes and relished the proximity.
“I am not supposed to speak of my affections, for we are in times of war, thus I shall say not the words, but you should not be left questioning my sincerity. Let me be selfish just this once.”
Unable to resist much longer, Andreth closed the last distance between them
It was a mere brush of lips, yet both felt it in their very soul. Gently, Aegnor cupped Andreth’s cheek and kissed her again and she sank against his chest. How was he supposed to live, now that he had tasted her lips? Now that he knew what it felt like to have her in his arms?
I love you , his lips whispered against hers as he kissed her a third time.
I love you , his arms spoke as they held her tightly.
I love you , his thumb said as it brushed her cheekbone.
I love you , her lips answered, catching his once more.
I love you , her hand confessed as it clutched the fabric of his cloak.
I love you , her fingers said as they ran through his unruly golden hair.
They parted only when their lungs were burning, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breaths.
“Andreth.”, Aegnor whispered again and again simply for the sake of speaking it. For a moment, he considered throwing Finrod’s words into the wind. He opened his mouth, but Andreth, his beloved Saelind, silenced him with her finger.
“Do not even think about it.”
“The Laws forbid marrying in tumultuous times, but -”
“Aegnor.”
He sighed and kissed her brow.
“If we lived in peace, would you let me court you?”
“Of course.”, Andreth said. “If you do not mind my mortality.”
Aegnor smiled. “Never, Andreth.”
“You say that now. Wait until my hair starts greying.”, Andreth teased and Aegnor shook his head.
“And if it is white as snow I will not regret it, for a few decades with you are worth more than an eternity alone.”