Guard You in Sleep by Zdenka  

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Fanwork Notes

Written for femslashfete for the prompt "cursed" and the SWG Birthday Bash for the word prompts "awake," "embrace," and "memory" and the poem prompt The Abnormal is Not Courage by Jack Gilbert:

But I say courage is not the abnormal.
Not the marvelous act.
....
Not the Prodigal Son, nor Faustus. But Penelope.
....
The marriage,
Not the month's rapture. Not the exception. The beauty
That is of many days. Steady and clear.

My word counter says this ficlet is exactly 400 words.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

Níniel comforts Finduilas after a nightmare.

Major Characters: Nienor, Finduilas

Major Relationships: Finduilas/Nienor

Genre: Femslash, Fixed-Length Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort

Challenges: Birthday Bash

Rating: Teens

Warnings: Mature Themes
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 424
Posted on Updated on

This fanwork is complete.

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

Níniel woke from sleep when it was still dark out. After a moment of groggy confusion, she realized why. Finduilas was sobbing quietly in the bed beside her; her eyes were open in the way of Elvish sleep, but her gaze was unfocused, while tears trickled down her face. She made small movements as if trying to escape from whatever dream tormented her.

Níniel sat up and called her name softly. When that did not wake her, Níniel gently shook her shoulder. “Finduilas. Finduilas, wake up!”

Finduilas woke with a stifled gasp. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Níniel?” she faltered.

“You were dreaming, love,” Níniel said gently.

Finduilas raised her hand and touched her wet cheeks.

“Come here—” Níniel pulled Finduilas into an embrace. Finduilas went willingly. Her breath still came in shuddering gasps.

Níniel held her tightly. “It was a dream,” she repeated fiercely. “Only a dream. It isn't here, it can’t touch you.” She held Finduilas, running her fingers through her long loose hair while Finduilas leaned against her. At last, when Finduilas’s breathing was calm again, Níniel asked, “What did you dream of?”

“It was my father,” Finduilas said, muffled against Níniel’s shoulder. “I saw him facing the dragon.”

“There is no dragon here,” Níniel said firmly. “If one comes, I will stab it in the eyes.”

Finduilas gave a wet laugh, lifting her head. “I believe you would, my fierce one.”

“Who is the tear-maiden now?” Níniel teased gently. She got out of bed long enough to find a cloth and dip it in cold water. She wiped the crust of salt from Finduilas’s face, while Finduilas sighed and turned towards Níniel’s hands.

When Níniel got up again to put the cloth with their laundry, Finduilas said quietly to her back, “It feels sometimes as if I am cursed to remember, the way you were cursed to forget.”

“And yet we are here,” Níniel said, climbing back into bed with her.

“We are here,” Finduilas agreed softly. “Would you sing to me?”

Níniel held Finduilas in her arms again, wrapping the covers snugly around both of them. The songs of Níniel’s childhood were lost to the darkness that took her memories. But she knew songs of Brethil, and she sang them in the night just for the two of them, until Finduilas’s body relaxed against hers and drifted once more into sleep.

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