Title: After They Spoke about the Fates of Elves and Men
Characters/Pairing: Finrod, Andreth (referenced Aegnor/Andreth)
Warnings: mild angst
Book/Source: HoME (Athrabeth)
Disclaimer: Tolkien wrote the conversation between Finrod and Andreth, Himring imagined this end to it.
They had talked so long in circles that almost anything seemed possible, even that they should meet again after the end of the world, as Finrod claimed to hope. No, assuredly, he did hope for just that, for he was devastatingly sincere, was he not?
She found she could not entirely forgive him, for his counsel to his brother and to herself-- for the way his wisdom still divided them in life, despite promising reunion after it--nor entirely hold onto her grudge. He was so insistent. However much of her bitterness leaked out, he still called her: my friend.
He left and silence settled back in about her. She returned to her tasks, picked up the slop bucket from the kitchen and emptied it out in the back yard. As she straightened, she found herself looking north, towards war and the endangered border.
She stood and, still holding the bucket close, almost involuntarily, she spoke: a word, a name. Aegnor.
Despite all that had passed, all that had been spoken, the word fell into the silence still full of meaning as before. She listened to the sound of it, and knew that to her it still meant: my love.
A/N: This is an alternative (double drabble) version of the end of my fic "Words", which was posted to SWG for their latest challenge. The final scene of that fic was inspired by the Tolkien Weekly prompt, but the rest was never going to allow itself to be fitted into a drabble sequence.