Snaring Light, by Elleth
Mar. 7th, 2012 08:01 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ladyelleth.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge:
067: AU Card: Identify a cultural artifact associated with a people you're interested in - how might a different history change its significance?, Femslash: Women of the House of Finwë
Format: Fic
Genre: Drabble, AU, Femslash
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Characters: Indis, Míriel, Fëanor
Pairings: Indis/Míriel(/Finwë), hinted
Summary: Young Fëanor requests a gift off his mothers. (Inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
indy1776's A Kind of Poetry, but probably an AU to her AU.)
Snaring Light
Laughing, Indis looked into Fëanáro's bright, expectant eyes.
"Some hair from both our heads, love? That is no hardship." She snatched Míriel's silver scissors from the tangled workbox and saw her wife (the thought still gave her such delightful thrills) nod assent without ever looking up from her swiftly-moving needles.
The gold and silver strands clutched firmly in his hand, Fëanáro forestalled the inevitable questions, dashing away. Míriel briefly rested her embroidery, smiling after her son. "I heard him boast to Finwë this morning that the Mingling would see him snare the light. We seem to be part of it."
067: AU Card: Identify a cultural artifact associated with a people you're interested in - how might a different history change its significance?, Femslash: Women of the House of Finwë
Format: Fic
Genre: Drabble, AU, Femslash
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Characters: Indis, Míriel, Fëanor
Pairings: Indis/Míriel(/Finwë), hinted
Summary: Young Fëanor requests a gift off his mothers. (Inspired by
indy1776's A Kind of Poetry, but probably an AU to her AU.)Snaring Light
Laughing, Indis looked into Fëanáro's bright, expectant eyes.
"Some hair from both our heads, love? That is no hardship." She snatched Míriel's silver scissors from the tangled workbox and saw her wife (the thought still gave her such delightful thrills) nod assent without ever looking up from her swiftly-moving needles.
The gold and silver strands clutched firmly in his hand, Fëanáro forestalled the inevitable questions, dashing away. Míriel briefly rested her embroidery, smiling after her son. "I heard him boast to Finwë this morning that the Mingling would see him snare the light. We seem to be part of it."
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no subject
Date: 2012-03-08 10:12 pm (UTC)(You need to talk to me about that? It's still your 'verse, Indy, you don't have to ask me anything - I only wrote this in the first place because you'd given me the OK for playing in it... *adds some flail to the squee* - unless it's in terms of betaing/sounding board, in which case, of course. I didn't mean to imply that I'd wanted to hijack anything.)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-08 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-09 09:20 am (UTC)My morning? Made. :D
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Date: 2012-03-09 08:37 pm (UTC)