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Morning Mist and Silver Sun by StarSpray

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For Silmladylove's Femslash February drabbletag on Tumblr, for the prompt: Elemmírë/Írimë, collaborating on a song

The bed was a mess, a tangle of sheets and scattered bits of scribbled-on parchment and ink stains. Laurelin’s light streamed in through the open window; outside a bluebird sang happily, unheeding of the laughter coming from inside.

“Írimë Lalwendë, that is terrible, I can’t sing that!”

“Of course you can!” Írimë waved the piece of parchment over her head as she stretched out lazily in the Tree light. “You can sing anything, everyone knows that.”

“I can’t get up in front of the Valar and all three Kings of the Eldalië and sing a song filled with puns and innuendo,” Elemmírë protested. “I’m going to burn that the moment I get a chance—”

“You will not, I worked hard on this!” Írimë held it just out of reach, shrieking when Elemmírë lunged after it. “Ow, that’s my hair—”

Elemmírë snatched the paper and tossed it over the side of the bed as she straddled Írimë. “You are incorrigible,” she said, settling back on Írimë’s hips and trying to look stern. “See if I ever ask you to collaborate again.”

Írimë settled back among the pillows and stuck out her tongue. “I’m clever,” she said. “Just because you don’t appreciate my brilliant sense of humor—”

“Yours is the lowest sense of humor—”

“Excuse you, Ingwë loves my sense of humor.”

“He only indulges you.”

“I would rather you indulged me.” Írimë wrapped her arms around Elemmírë’s waist and dragged her down into a kiss. “I do have some other ideas we could collaborate on.”

Elemmírë laughed. “Another song?”

“Well, there might be some singing…”

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