Diamonds & Silver by StarSpray  

The many-colored lamps glinted and flashed around the wide hall, turning the silver light of Telperion streaming through the windows to a rainbow and making the jewels and bright clothes of the dancers flash and glitter. Elemmírë was no great dancer; all the grace her feet should have received had gone instead to her hands, but she loved to watch and to play the music, her bow across the strings of her violin as quick as the feet of the dancers as they spun around the floor, laughing and breathless.

One dancer in particular caught Elemmírë’s eye as she swirled past on the arm of Prince Arafinwë. Princess Findis was resplendent, luminous in a silver gown shimmering with diamonds and pearls, and with diamonds in her long golden hair, so that she seemed to be a living embodiment of the Mingling Trees—an effect only made stronger by the bright emerald of her eyes. No matter where Elemmírë looked over the course of the night she saw the princess, and more than once she found the princess looking back. This was a dance of its own, one with slow steps that had been playing out over several years now—through glances across ballrooms and snatches of laughing conversation where Findis flirted and Elemmírë blushed, tongue-tied and shy when she did not have a song to sing or an instrument in her hands.

After the dancing ended, Elemmírë packed away her violin and prepared to make her way home. It was nearly Mingling; the dancing had lasted all night, and everyone was tired and silly, laughing and still swaying on their feet. Elemmírë had no sooner stepped out of the hall than a hand seized hers, and she found herself swept outside and behind a curtain of fragrant soft purple wisteria. “I hoped to catch you on the dance floor tonight,” Findis said. In the shade of the flowers she glittered, like a star come down from the sky.

“Oh, I never dance,” said Elemmírë, blushing with the admission, for Findis was as graceful a dancer as had ever been born in Valinor, as light-footed and tireless as Nessa. “I cannot tell you how many toes I have bruised or hems I have ripped—”

Findis laughed. “That’s all right. This is even better—I have you all to myself now.” Her hand came up to cup Elemmírë’s cheek before her fingers slid into Elemmírë’s hair, fingers slightly calloused and catching on the strands as Elemmírë’s braids came loose.

Elemmírë had read of first kisses and sung songs about them—dozens of times, for others had so much to say—and had kissed several people for the first time herself, finding the experience rather less exciting than all the songs had led her to believe. This, however, was entirely different—it was poetry come to life, and more. Findis’ lips tasted of the honey-sweetened wine they had all been drinking; she was soft and sweet and warm, but also bold and unyielding, and Elemmírë suddenly understood what others meant when they spoke of melting under another’s touch. Her own fingers caught on the diamonds in Findis’ hair as they pressed even closer.

A bright peal of laughter from someone passing by just on the other side of the wisteria startled them both, and they parted, breathless. Findis’ eyes sparkled. “Have you anywhere to be today?” she whispered, lips still close enough to brush against Elemmírë’s as she spoke.

“Only my bed,” Elemmírë said, speaking without thought and then blushing again, furiously, as Findis laughed. “But if you wanted—I mean, I didn’t—”

“Your bed or mine, I care not,” said Findis, still laughing, still pressing feather-light kisses over Elemmírë’s cheeks and down the line of her jaw. “Lead on.”

Elemmírë nearly tripped over her own skirts as they emerged from the wisteria, before regaining her bearings as the two of them fled away down the garden path, hand in hand, laughing through the waning silver light. 

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