House of the Golden Flower

This day's task was to number our men, and to account for them. I had many wounded, but few missing utterly or known dead. They were scattered all over the camp, and healers bustled busily like bees between the rows of wounded and their bags of supplies. For dinner was horse meat and water with wine in it, as no one felt like hunting and the water alone would make some of the men who had overexerted themselves in the heat sick.
At sunset, after I had eaten, I went to stand at the river. We would not mourn until we reached Gondolin, then we would mourn with our women for those lost. Hurin and Huor were surely dead, I thought, with sorrow.

I tried thinking of something else, the peaceful beauty of the river, anything. With a sigh, I walked down the grassy knoll and knelt at the water's edge, lifting a handful of it to wash my face.

I saw that it was growing dark, and turned back toward the shore. I caught sight of a lean, dark figure ducking back quickly into the shadows. Maeglin? I wondered. An Orc spy? Whatever it was, the guards ought to know of it. We weren't to be prowling around beyond camp borders anyway. I started back for camp, taking the shorter path through the forest.

Once again, I heard someone following me, so I pointedly lay a hand on my knife and kept walking. Maeglin, if it were he, would understand that threat. A particularly loud crash sounded behind me, and I whirled to find the forest silent and still. It was very dark.

I took a step forward again, turning, and walked into something warm, solid and definitely not a tree. Maeglin's arms caught me, and pushed me back against the trunk of a nearby oak, then held me there with his lean, hard, body. I struggled against him.

Maeglin's hand pulled my knife from me, and he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Why are you out here alone?"

"I'll do as I please." I snapped.

"As will I." He replied darkly, and his fingers brushed my mouth, rubbed my lips.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Whatever I want." Maeglin answered, slipping his first finger into my mouth, rubbing the damp onto my lips. He reached further inside, and stroked my tongue. I briefly considered biting, but couldn't bring myself to.

Maeglin tasted of earth and metal and salt. After a moment, he leaned more heavily against me. His other hand cupped the erection I didn't know I'd had, until that very moment. He opened my breeches, I fought him a bit, and he withdrew his finger from my mouth, and replaced it with his own.

It was nothing like that night he had thought I was Idril. Pure heat, dark desire, rival hatred and the flavor of metal. I was co int into his hand, flushed with shame, before I knew what was happening, sucking passively on Maeglin's thrusting tongue.

Maeglin put his hand to his face, breaking off our kiss, and cleaned it leisurely, to my disgust. I let my lashes flicker, lustfully, derisively; swirling with mixed emotions.

"Run away, little Fin." Maeglin said.

"I hate you." I managed.

He smiled. "I hate you too." He countered, tracing my jaw with his fingertips, kissing me softly beside the mouth. I closed my eyes.

He stepped back, and I fled, stumbling, shaking and distraught; dressing myself haphazardly.

When I got back to camp, I forced myself to breathe normally, lest anyone suspect, and paced uneasily outside Turgon's tent, trying to compose my racing emotions.

When I felt calm enough to go inside, Turgon looked up at me from his armor spread out on his lap.

"Where were you?"

"Washing." I lied.

"Ah." He went back to fiddling with his helm.

"Turgon," I said, sitting next to him and taking the parts away, "Will you mark me as yours?"

"Why?" He asked. He was so sweet, so innocently charming. How could I tell him I'd just come in a stranger's hand, not just any stranger, but one I held rivalry with, hated?

"Because I need the protection of your claim."

"What mark would you have of me?"

I glanced around him, saw his chipped signet ring on his hand. "Your ring, in my ear."

He sighed, he'd been procrastinating replacing that ring for years. "Bring the salve, so that it will be healed before the march tomorrow."

I smiled at him gratefully, and went and got the small pot. He took out his knife, cleaned it, and took off his ring and cleaned that too. I sat at his feet as he knelt over me, and he turned my head to have full access to my right ear. He slit the lobe from the side down to the center - it didn't hurt or bleed too much. He set the ring in the gash, and smeared salve all over, then held it while it bled and scabbed over.

When it was solid enough to release, he did so, and motioned me to lie down. I did as he requested, on my left side.

He blew out the lamp, and lay down beside me, face to face. We kissed leisurely, and I ran my fingertip across the cut on his nose, making him smile.

This night was the first time I had ever lied to him. Maeglin was the only person other than Turgon who had ever made me feel pleasure. And just as before, when we had fought and were estranged, Maeglin had come between us.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you too." He said.

Then I let him kiss me.

And this ends Part II. Don't worry - there's still Part III ahead of you. :)
Oh, and FB? Don't make me beg. :D