Pearl

[heget]

“How is it an insult when your brother calls me your pearl?”

 

Eärwen pauses her fingers in Finarfin’s hair, the discarded silver comb at her feet and her lover’s head in her lap. “Because pearls start off as irritants inside the shells, and they must be coated smooth. Eventually the oyster turns the evasive grain of sand into a beautiful part of itself.”

 

“So I am the annoying Noldo grain of sand who you have softened with prettier words and manners until I fit in Alqualondë?”

 

Eärwen giggles. “And you might dissolve if dunked in vinegar.”

 

Finarfin twists his neck so he can look up her. “Where would I be immersed in vinegar?”

 

She runs a hand over his brow, pushing aside the almost iridescent golden hair. “Tirion is full of sour, quarrelsome people who make you unhappy to be around. It is better for you in Alqualondë. You should stay here. You are beautiful here.”

 

“Because I am with you, and you are more beautiful than any pearl.”

 

“You coat me with flattery, marilla.”