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Guardian Angel
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,828
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,828
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Four
Title: Guardian Angel – Chapter 4
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Pairing: Rúmil/Lindir
Rating: PG13
Summary: Lindir finally meets his guardian angel.
Warnings: A little angst, mostly sweet fluff.
Notes: As ever, for SayAye, with love.
***********************
Lindir led Rúmil through the crowd, making sure he didn’t slip away. At the first opportunity, he pressed a glass of heady wine into the Galadhel’s hand, hoping it would calm Rúmil a little. He had never met such a nervous Elf and watched in amazement as Rúmil jumped when anyone looked like they might talk to him.
It didn’t make sense. Rúmil was sweet and attractive – he should have all the confidence he could ever need. If nothing else, his work as a guardian should have boosted his self-esteem. Lindir found it strange that it hadn’t.
Guiding his reluctant companion to a quiet corner, he sat down on a padded bench and gestured to Rúmil to join him. To his great relief, Rúmil did – Lindir had feared that the flighty Elf might choose that moment to make good his escape. One thing was clear already: getting past the wall of shyness that surrounded Rúmil was not going to be an easy task.
“Are you enjoying the festival?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.
There was a lengthy pause as Rúmil stared into his cup. “It is very crowded,” he mumbled, glancing around him. Lindir looked despairing, but then Rúmil seemed to remember who he was with. “Though the music was nice,” he added.
At that Lindir smiled; it was the first thing Rúmil had said that he had not had to pry out of him. “I am glad of that,” he replied. “Do you have any preferences in music? I would happily add something into tomorrow’s performance for you.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Rúmil looked absolutely horrified at the thought of something being done for him in public.
“No one would know, save you and I,” Lindir said quickly. “I only wish to play music that is pleasing to you.”
“It is... you do…” Rúmil stammered, fiddling with his glass. “Do not trouble yourself further.”
Lindir resisted the urge to sigh out loud. Clearly, Rúmil was not going to be forthcoming. Not that Lindir planned to let that stop him. Rúmil’s brothers had got him to this point – he was sure that as long as he treated Rúmil well, they would help him again.
“As you wish,” he replied, sipping his own wine and wondering just what to do next. In all his life, he had never felt so completely at a loss.
**********
Several hours later, little had changed, save for one thing. Rúmil was decidedly drunk. While Lindir had paced himself, making small talk despite getting only the briefest of replies, Rúmil had drunk almost steadily between utterances in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.
It was easy to tell that Rúmil rarely touched alcohol. He looked confused and stared at the goblet with a dazed expression. Lindir had let him be, believing it to be best if he was at ease, but he now suspected he may have let it go too far. /If I deliver him back to his brothers in this state, they will have my head!/ he thought despairingly. Somehow, he had to get Rúmil sobered up enough to get home. /What a disaster./ Edging closer, he tentatively put a hand on Rúmil’s shoulder. The Galadhel jumped, startled, and stared at Lindir with glazed eyes.
“Peace,” Lindir said soothingly. “I mean you no harm. Are you quite well?”
Blinking, Rúmil tried to focus his thoughts. “Yes…” he said slowly, though his body swayed from side to side. “I think… I think I am drunk.” Leaning forward so close Lindir could hardly believe it, Rúmil blinked owlishly. “Am I drunk?”
Unable to help himself, Lindir chuckled. “You most certainly are, my friend!” He hoped Rúmil wouldn’t regret this in the morning. He had no reason to; it was utterly endearing, yet it was not real. It was not him.
“Oh.” Rúmil seemed mildly surprised by this confirmation and sat back in the chair. “That is… not good.” He began to list dangerously to one side.
Highly amused, Lindir patted his shoulder again and carefully steadied him. “There are worse things that could happen. However I do not care to get into trouble with your brothers, so I think I had best find you some tea.”
Looking around, Lindir sought a familiar face. He did not wish to leave Rúmil while he was in this state, but tea was a necessity. Catching the eye of one of the other minstrels, he quickly begged his favour. The other Elf looked taken aback when he saw who the tea was for, but carried out the request nonetheless.
Once the tea had arrived, Lindir poured half a cup and offered it to Rúmil. Judging from the unsteady look of the Galadhel, a full cup would be extremely unwise
He was quite right. Only Rúmil’s warrior-honed reflexes kept him from spilling the hot drink as he shakily sipped it.
“I am still drunk,” he announced some minutes later.
“You are,” Lindir agreed. “You must give it time.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Orophin walking towards them. “Have some more,” he said quickly, topping up the cup.
Luckily for the nervous minstrel, Orophin was called to dance by a nearby maiden and stepped into the dancing ring, away from where they sat. Breathing a sigh of relief, the minstrel continued to ply Rúmil with tea whilst hoping Haldir didn’t happen by.
Three cups later, Rúmil began to yawn and blink sleepily. Before he knew what was happening, Lindir found himself – or rather, his shoulder – acting as a pillow for his sleeping companion.
Unsure of what to do, Lindir stayed where he was, glancing at Rúmil from the corner of his eye. He was torn between waking Rúmil and letting him sleep, despite the risk of his brothers noticing them.
However, the simple truth was that he was now closer to Rúmil than he had ever dreamed of getting and he wanted to prolong it as much as he could, in case such a moment never happened again. Unable to help himself, he lightly stroked the pale golden hair of his companion.
“He is beautiful in slumber, is he not?”
The voice made Lindir jump and, as he looked up, his mouth went dry, seeing Haldir standing over him.
“He is… but that is not why, why I…” he trailed off, finding himself unusually lost for words.
Seeing Lindir’s obvious discomfort, he chuckled. “Peace, my friend, I am not angry,” he assured him. “I suspected this would happen… Rúmil rarely drinks, except when he is very nervous – and he most certainly was tonight!”
Relaxing, Lindir nodded. “I noticed. I do not understand it… he has no reason to be this way.”
“We do not understand it either,” Haldir admitted. “His youth was quite isolated, yet other Elves with similar experiences are not this way.” He gently tucked a strand of Rúmil’s hair behind his ear. “He is just an oddity, I fear. You are the first to show interest in many years.”
“I was considered odd in my youth,” Lindir said with an indulgent smile. “A child obsessed with music, especially the harp. I took it everywhere, despite the inconvenience of carrying it around.”
Haldir laughed, picturing how Lindir must have looked in those days.
“Perhaps you are a good match then,” he said, sitting down and pulling Rúmil towards him. “Time will be the judge. Yet for now I had best get him home; he would not wish to be left in public like this.”
“Very well.” Somewhat reluctantly, Lindir relinquished his hold on Rúmil, so that Haldir could shake him lightly.
“Come along,” Haldir teased, as Rúmil slowly woke and blinked at his brother, “time to go home.” Ever so slowly Rúmil nodded, standing up and leaning on Haldir. It was clear that he was half-asleep and Lindir took no offence when Rúmil failed to bid him goodnight as his brother led him away, smiling warmly at the minstrel before they left.
Lindir watched them enter the palace before making his way to his own rooms, full of hope for their next meeting.
***********
The morning saw him awake early yet again; however, rather than taking a walk, he spent his time bathing and selecting clothes he hoped were impressive without being too obvious.
Once satisfied with his appearance, he hurried to the dining hall, seeking the shy Galadhel to whom he had become attached. Yet when he reached the table that the brothers had taken to occupying, only Haldir and Orophin were present.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling hopefully. “Have I missed Rúmil?”
Looking up, Orophin smiled apologetically. “I am sorry, Lindir,” he said. “We could not coax him out. He remembers what happened last night and is deeply embarrassed.”
“There is nothing for him to be ashamed of!” Lindir replied. “Many Elves were in a far worse state!” Looking around the room, it looked as if some of the Elves still were.
“I know,” Orophin said, “but they are not as self-conscious as Rúmil. He will not leave the room. Please believe us, we tried. We do not like seeing him hiding away.”
“I am sure you did,” Lindir sighed, sitting down next to Haldir. “Might I go and see him then?”
“I am afraid not.” It was Haldir speaking now. “He is... upset that you did not stop him drinking. I believe his words were, ‘I wish never to see him again, unless Eru himself demands it.’”
Placing his head in his hands, Lindir groaned as all his hopes of the previous night fled in the harsh light of reality. Looking at Haldir and Orophin’s sympathetic faces, he began to wonder what, if anything, could break down the barriers around Rúmil’s heart.
END CHAPTER 4
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Pairing: Rúmil/Lindir
Rating: PG13
Summary: Lindir finally meets his guardian angel.
Warnings: A little angst, mostly sweet fluff.
Notes: As ever, for SayAye, with love.
***********************
Lindir led Rúmil through the crowd, making sure he didn’t slip away. At the first opportunity, he pressed a glass of heady wine into the Galadhel’s hand, hoping it would calm Rúmil a little. He had never met such a nervous Elf and watched in amazement as Rúmil jumped when anyone looked like they might talk to him.
It didn’t make sense. Rúmil was sweet and attractive – he should have all the confidence he could ever need. If nothing else, his work as a guardian should have boosted his self-esteem. Lindir found it strange that it hadn’t.
Guiding his reluctant companion to a quiet corner, he sat down on a padded bench and gestured to Rúmil to join him. To his great relief, Rúmil did – Lindir had feared that the flighty Elf might choose that moment to make good his escape. One thing was clear already: getting past the wall of shyness that surrounded Rúmil was not going to be an easy task.
“Are you enjoying the festival?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.
There was a lengthy pause as Rúmil stared into his cup. “It is very crowded,” he mumbled, glancing around him. Lindir looked despairing, but then Rúmil seemed to remember who he was with. “Though the music was nice,” he added.
At that Lindir smiled; it was the first thing Rúmil had said that he had not had to pry out of him. “I am glad of that,” he replied. “Do you have any preferences in music? I would happily add something into tomorrow’s performance for you.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Rúmil looked absolutely horrified at the thought of something being done for him in public.
“No one would know, save you and I,” Lindir said quickly. “I only wish to play music that is pleasing to you.”
“It is... you do…” Rúmil stammered, fiddling with his glass. “Do not trouble yourself further.”
Lindir resisted the urge to sigh out loud. Clearly, Rúmil was not going to be forthcoming. Not that Lindir planned to let that stop him. Rúmil’s brothers had got him to this point – he was sure that as long as he treated Rúmil well, they would help him again.
“As you wish,” he replied, sipping his own wine and wondering just what to do next. In all his life, he had never felt so completely at a loss.
**********
Several hours later, little had changed, save for one thing. Rúmil was decidedly drunk. While Lindir had paced himself, making small talk despite getting only the briefest of replies, Rúmil had drunk almost steadily between utterances in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.
It was easy to tell that Rúmil rarely touched alcohol. He looked confused and stared at the goblet with a dazed expression. Lindir had let him be, believing it to be best if he was at ease, but he now suspected he may have let it go too far. /If I deliver him back to his brothers in this state, they will have my head!/ he thought despairingly. Somehow, he had to get Rúmil sobered up enough to get home. /What a disaster./ Edging closer, he tentatively put a hand on Rúmil’s shoulder. The Galadhel jumped, startled, and stared at Lindir with glazed eyes.
“Peace,” Lindir said soothingly. “I mean you no harm. Are you quite well?”
Blinking, Rúmil tried to focus his thoughts. “Yes…” he said slowly, though his body swayed from side to side. “I think… I think I am drunk.” Leaning forward so close Lindir could hardly believe it, Rúmil blinked owlishly. “Am I drunk?”
Unable to help himself, Lindir chuckled. “You most certainly are, my friend!” He hoped Rúmil wouldn’t regret this in the morning. He had no reason to; it was utterly endearing, yet it was not real. It was not him.
“Oh.” Rúmil seemed mildly surprised by this confirmation and sat back in the chair. “That is… not good.” He began to list dangerously to one side.
Highly amused, Lindir patted his shoulder again and carefully steadied him. “There are worse things that could happen. However I do not care to get into trouble with your brothers, so I think I had best find you some tea.”
Looking around, Lindir sought a familiar face. He did not wish to leave Rúmil while he was in this state, but tea was a necessity. Catching the eye of one of the other minstrels, he quickly begged his favour. The other Elf looked taken aback when he saw who the tea was for, but carried out the request nonetheless.
Once the tea had arrived, Lindir poured half a cup and offered it to Rúmil. Judging from the unsteady look of the Galadhel, a full cup would be extremely unwise
He was quite right. Only Rúmil’s warrior-honed reflexes kept him from spilling the hot drink as he shakily sipped it.
“I am still drunk,” he announced some minutes later.
“You are,” Lindir agreed. “You must give it time.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Orophin walking towards them. “Have some more,” he said quickly, topping up the cup.
Luckily for the nervous minstrel, Orophin was called to dance by a nearby maiden and stepped into the dancing ring, away from where they sat. Breathing a sigh of relief, the minstrel continued to ply Rúmil with tea whilst hoping Haldir didn’t happen by.
Three cups later, Rúmil began to yawn and blink sleepily. Before he knew what was happening, Lindir found himself – or rather, his shoulder – acting as a pillow for his sleeping companion.
Unsure of what to do, Lindir stayed where he was, glancing at Rúmil from the corner of his eye. He was torn between waking Rúmil and letting him sleep, despite the risk of his brothers noticing them.
However, the simple truth was that he was now closer to Rúmil than he had ever dreamed of getting and he wanted to prolong it as much as he could, in case such a moment never happened again. Unable to help himself, he lightly stroked the pale golden hair of his companion.
“He is beautiful in slumber, is he not?”
The voice made Lindir jump and, as he looked up, his mouth went dry, seeing Haldir standing over him.
“He is… but that is not why, why I…” he trailed off, finding himself unusually lost for words.
Seeing Lindir’s obvious discomfort, he chuckled. “Peace, my friend, I am not angry,” he assured him. “I suspected this would happen… Rúmil rarely drinks, except when he is very nervous – and he most certainly was tonight!”
Relaxing, Lindir nodded. “I noticed. I do not understand it… he has no reason to be this way.”
“We do not understand it either,” Haldir admitted. “His youth was quite isolated, yet other Elves with similar experiences are not this way.” He gently tucked a strand of Rúmil’s hair behind his ear. “He is just an oddity, I fear. You are the first to show interest in many years.”
“I was considered odd in my youth,” Lindir said with an indulgent smile. “A child obsessed with music, especially the harp. I took it everywhere, despite the inconvenience of carrying it around.”
Haldir laughed, picturing how Lindir must have looked in those days.
“Perhaps you are a good match then,” he said, sitting down and pulling Rúmil towards him. “Time will be the judge. Yet for now I had best get him home; he would not wish to be left in public like this.”
“Very well.” Somewhat reluctantly, Lindir relinquished his hold on Rúmil, so that Haldir could shake him lightly.
“Come along,” Haldir teased, as Rúmil slowly woke and blinked at his brother, “time to go home.” Ever so slowly Rúmil nodded, standing up and leaning on Haldir. It was clear that he was half-asleep and Lindir took no offence when Rúmil failed to bid him goodnight as his brother led him away, smiling warmly at the minstrel before they left.
Lindir watched them enter the palace before making his way to his own rooms, full of hope for their next meeting.
***********
The morning saw him awake early yet again; however, rather than taking a walk, he spent his time bathing and selecting clothes he hoped were impressive without being too obvious.
Once satisfied with his appearance, he hurried to the dining hall, seeking the shy Galadhel to whom he had become attached. Yet when he reached the table that the brothers had taken to occupying, only Haldir and Orophin were present.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling hopefully. “Have I missed Rúmil?”
Looking up, Orophin smiled apologetically. “I am sorry, Lindir,” he said. “We could not coax him out. He remembers what happened last night and is deeply embarrassed.”
“There is nothing for him to be ashamed of!” Lindir replied. “Many Elves were in a far worse state!” Looking around the room, it looked as if some of the Elves still were.
“I know,” Orophin said, “but they are not as self-conscious as Rúmil. He will not leave the room. Please believe us, we tried. We do not like seeing him hiding away.”
“I am sure you did,” Lindir sighed, sitting down next to Haldir. “Might I go and see him then?”
“I am afraid not.” It was Haldir speaking now. “He is... upset that you did not stop him drinking. I believe his words were, ‘I wish never to see him again, unless Eru himself demands it.’”
Placing his head in his hands, Lindir groaned as all his hopes of the previous night fled in the harsh light of reality. Looking at Haldir and Orophin’s sympathetic faces, he began to wonder what, if anything, could break down the barriers around Rúmil’s heart.
END CHAPTER 4