Safe Passage

CHAPTER FOUR

FAERÁWE


The next morning Rúmil was feeling much better and was eager to get up and not only explore Rivendell and the magnificent house in which he found himself, but also to find out the reason why Elrond had invited him there. He quickly got out of bed and looked around the room for his clothing. Someone had undressed and bathed him, he noticed, as his skin was smooth and clean, all the grime of travel washed away, and his hair was free of tangles and fell unbound in a long sheet of straight pale blond silkiness. He was clothed in a long, white nightshirt with ties at the top of the neck, and he blushed to think of who might have dressed him while he was unconscious.

His room was rather small, but it was beautifully decorated. Its window was very large with a waist-high ledge upon which one could sit and enjoy the spectacular view of the valley. Many trees provided privacy and obscured a complete vista from the window, but it was lovely nonetheless. Around the window frame was beautifully carved elaborate scrollwork and trim in pale unbleached wood. Spread upon the floors were hand-woven carpets in rich colours of green, red and gold. Beside Rúmil’s bed was a nightstand upon which had been placed a silver pitcher of water with matching goblet, and a washstand in one corner held a basin and ewer of gold, with several soft white towels hanging from its racks. Beside this was an armoire made of elaborately decorated unbleached wood, and Rúmil padded over to this wardrobe cabinet and opened its doors. Hanging inside were the brown leggings he had worn to Rivendell, but he did not see his shirt. Hanging beside his leggings were several articles of beautiful clothing: robes, tunics, shirts and breeches, all made of fine material and with elegant stitching and embroidery adorning them.

Rúmil removed a pale blue robe from the cabinet and placed it on the bed where he ran his hands over the exquisite velvet, feeling the intricate embroidery on its sleeves and the smooth silk of the lining. Its finery dazzled him. He quickly pulled off his nightshirt and was just about to put on the elegant robe when the door to his room opened and Elrond walked in.

The Lord of Imladris was greeted with the not unpleasant or unappreciated sight of Rúmil’s back, his sleek, slender limbs and little rounded bottom while he bent over his bed, picking up the beautiful robe in his arms. Startled, he turned around and looked right into Master Elrond’s wide, dark eyes that held a look of amusement.

“Ah”, said Elrond. “I have come at an awkward time, have I not? Please excuse me. I shall go out for a moment and wait until you have dressed. Then please join me in the hallway and we shall go to breakfast together”. Then he slipped quietly from the room and closed the door softly behind him.

Rúmil stood for a few seconds holding the robe, but his knees were trembling so badly that he was forced to sit down abruptly on the bed before he was able to rise again and put it on. He then nervously smoothed his hair with his hands before he crossed the floor, put a shaking hand on the handle, and opened it.

Elrond waited in the hall just as he had said he would. Rúmil gave him a shy smile as he joined the Lord of Imladris and together they walked down the hall to the breakfast room. “I must apologize to you for my intrusion this morning”, said Elrond in a soft, low voice. “I am pleased to see that you are well. I did notice that you have quite a burn on your back that shall need some attention, and I also wish to talk to you about the stallion who brought you here to us”.

Rúmil cleared his throat before speaking. “Worry not about the intrusion – I mean, it was no intrusion”, he said, and winced at the clumsiness of his own words. “The burn causes minor discomfort, and does not concern me. But I would be indebted if you would give me news of my horse. Is he in good health and spirits? I remember that we fell down the slope of the ravine before I lost consciousness”.

Elrond glanced sideways at his young companion. “We shall speak of his condition later. What is his name, Rúmil? The grooms would like to know what to call him while they are tending to him”.

Rúmil looked distressed. He stopped walking and passed a hand through his sleek blond hair. “Gods”, he whispered.

“What is wrong, Rúmil?” asked Elrond, putting a comforting hand on Rúmil’s arm. “You look chagrined”.

“I do not know the horse’s name”, the young Elf said. “We left in such a hurry I did not ask the groom at our stables. I wish very much to know it. He has brought me here safely through a Warg attack –“ He stopped abruptly and bit his lip. He raised his sky-blue eyes to meet Elrond’s dark ones. As their glances met, they saw within each other a mutual understanding that ignited a longing in both Elves, but they continued to maintain an air of formal politeness.

“A Warg attack?” Elrond asked as he raised his eyebrows. “Do not tell me that you have come unscathed through a Warg attack alone!”

“It was because of that brave horse that we arrived unscathed”, replied Rúmil modestly.

Elrond looked at Rúmil in astonishment and he shook his dark head in disbelief. “I doubt that very much”, he said. “You must remember that I have seen you bring down fourteen Orcs single-handedly. How many Wargs were there?”

“Only three”, replied Rúmil, blushing.

“Only three”, Elrond repeated, and shook his head again. “And did you kill them all and their riders?” Rúmil nodded. Elrond did not know what to do. He wanted to throw his arms around the young Elf protectively, but he also wanted badly to reprimand him for his foolishness. He did nothing but shake his head again as they resumed walking.

When they reached the breakfast room Rúmil could see that it was occupied also by Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and by other members of his household including Erestor, one of his counselors, and Glorfindel, a warrior and one of his scouts. Rúmil had not met anyone except Elladan and Elrohir before, so introductions were made all around.

Rúmil was surprised to see how elaborate and sumptuous the morning meal appeared. There were many dishes laid out on a long table covered with a plain white linen cloth, embroidered at the edges with fine lace. Gold and silver candlesticks graced the table and a warm scent of honey emanated from the beeswax candles and wafted throughout the room. The candles shone with a golden glow over the many types of food laid out upon the table. There were bowls of fresh-picked fruit of several kinds: strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, pears and apples; a tureen containing hearty porridge, loaves of fresh bread – some plain, some with fruit – and silver pots filled with fresh brewed tea and coffee. There were pots of jam and honey and boards replete with slabs of fresh butter and cheese. Rúmil’s stomach churned and gurgled with hunger as he realized that he had not eaten properly for many days. He set to his breakfast avidly, heaping some of everything onto his plate.

While Rúmil ate hungrily, an amused Elrond explained that he had been concerned lately about the prevalence of Orcs on his borders, and that he was considering increasing his border patrols and sending out scouting parties. He said that he and Erestor had discussed this and that he intended to organize five or six new scouting parties, each to be captained by a skilled and trusted warrior from his realm. These were to be his twin sons, Glorfindel, Galdor, who was not present, and Lindir, another Elf who was not at the breakfast table. Elrond explained that he needed a sixth warrior to lead the final group, but could not spare Erestor, who was needed in the house for his diplomatic skills.

“I have not yet spoken to Lord Celeborn about this”, Elrond said, “but I wished to ask you first, Rúmil, if you would be willing to lead the sixth of my scouting parties. I feel that your two older brothers would be sufficient to guard Lorien’s borders for the time being, as your kingdom is not as beset by the enemy as is ours. After some time when the area here is well cleared of Orcs, then you would be able to return to Lorien again if you so desire”.

Rúmil stopped eating and regarded the Elf-lord studiously. He could see the sincerity in Elrond’s expression but he was shocked nonetheless by his offer. On the one hand, he should feel happy and honoured that the Lord of Imladris would issue such an invitation to him, but he was also asking him to leave his home and his brothers. Even though Haldir and Orophin annoyed Rúmil terribly at times, they were loyal to him and the three were very close. He could not leave them. But the look in Elrond’s eyes as he gazed into Rúmil’s held another sort of invitation that Rúmil could see instinctively. It was a promise of care and protection, and something else that twinkled in his steely grey gaze. Was it affection, or perhaps lust? Inwardly, Rúmil shivered, yet he felt a warm glow flood over him at the same time. Fortunately he did not have to speak at that moment, as one of the twins abruptly cried, “Father, you cannot seriously ask this young Elf to leave his own home so abruptly and come here to a strange place to take on such a dangerous responsibility as leading one of our scouting parties!”

“It is all right, Elrohir”, said Elrond calmly. “I decided that I would ask Rúmil how he felt about the offer first. As I said, I have not yet spoken to Lord Celeborn about it, and it may be that neither he nor Rúmil will agree to such a thing. I wish only for Rúmil to think upon it now, stay here for a week or two, and then give me his answer after he has had plenty of time to decide”. He smiled at Rúmil warmly. “What do you say to that, Rúmil?”

Rúmil put down his spoon and licked his lips. “I will think upon it”, he replied. “I do look forward to exploring Imladris as I have heard so much about your realm that interests me”.

Elrond looked very pleased and sat watching Rúmil with his chin resting upon his clasped hands, his elbows propped up on the table. Rúmil returned his affectionate gaze with a shy glance as he returned to his porridge.

When Rúmil had finished eating, Elrond leaned towards him. “Shall we go to visit your horse now?” he asked.

“Yes, I would like that very much, My Lord”, said the young Elf with eagerness in his voice.

“Good. I will return to your room with you so that you may change into outdoor clothing and then we shall continue to the stables”.

The two Elves walked together back to Rúmil’s bedroom. When they entered, Elrond shut the door behind them and leaned his back against it. “Rúmil”, he said. “I know that your time here will be short, and I do not want to waste any more of it on inane small talk and pointless meanderings. Forgive my haste and my boldness in speaking this way, but since we parted that day back on the banks of the Nimrodel, I have thought of nothing or no one but you. Please forgive my ridiculous suggestion for you to lead a scouting party. I used it because I needed a reason to bring you here that would sound feasible to the others”.

Rúmil’s breath caught in his throat and he felt his heart flutter. He sat down suddenly on the bed. “I know that there is an attraction between us”, Elrond continued. “I feel it strongly and I know that you feel it also. That you would make the journey that you have, by yourself and have managed to kill three Wargs in so doing – to do that in order to arrive unscathed to be with me - that goes beyond any mere attraction that I have previously known. I should like to right now, at this moment, make love to you and prove to myself that my feelings are correct. Would you agree to such a sudden and passionate union, Rúmil?”

Rúmil gasped and blinked several times. He could not think clearly and words would not come to his lips. In answer, he stood and untied the blue robe, letting it fall to his feet. Beneath it, his slender body was entirely naked, and the beginnings of an arousal was obvious in his tender young organ. He then raised his arms to Elrond, as a child would in order to elicit a hug.

Elrond came to him then in a rustle of grey and silver robes, and enveloped the young Elf in a fierce embrace. Feverishly, he entwined his hands within Rúmil’s silky hair, clasping the fine head in a firm embrace and ravishing the soft young lips with his own. Rúmil whimpered and opened his mouth, yielding to the exploring tongue of the Elf-lord. He pushed his slender hands beneath the voluminous folds of the elegant robes and encircled Elrond’s strong, hard chest and back with his eager young arms. He stroked Elrond’s back over the soft silk shirt that covered it.

Elrond then broke the kiss and let go of Rúmil. He removed his robe carefully and hung it on one of the bedposts before kicking off his shoes, removing his shirt and quickly untying his leggings and dropping them to the floor. Then he clasped Rúmil around the slender waist and buried his face into the pale ivory neck, kissing him as softly as possible there so as not to leave any marks. “You are so beautiful, Rúmil, and so young”, Elrond said as he raised his head to look into Rúmil’s clear blue eyes. “I feel almost guilty to have this lust that I feel for you”.

“Please do not”, Rúmil whispered, “for I feel it also. Please take me, and do what you will. I do not think that I shall last very much longer before I will lose control of my body”.

Elrond then lay Rúmil down upon the bed and looked at the fair Elf for a moment as he lay naked and yielding upon the coverlet. “Let me gaze upon your beauty awhile”, Elrond murmured. “You are so lovely”. His gaze caressed Rúmil from head to foot. The young Elf’s pale blond hair was spread around him in a silky mass, framing his tender face with its fine bones and features. His smooth young chest was heaving and Elrond’s gaze passed down to his tight abdomen, light covering of golden pubic hair, and paused on the full penis standing upright, before moving down the long, shapely legs to his finely-boned feet and toes.

“May I kiss your body all over starting with your feet?” asked Elrond lasciviously. Rúmil whimpered his assent, and Elrond knelt on the floor beside the bed and gently pulled Rúmil’s leg down over the edge and took the softly seductive big toe into his mouth. He sucked on it slowly and rhythmically as he caressed the bottom and sides of the pale foot with his hands. Rúmil gasped at the sensation and his body writhed in anticipated pleasure. He took himself in hand and began to stroke his hard member as it ached to be enveloped by that same warm mouth that was encased around his toe. Then Elrond suddenly released his foot and ran his hands along Rúmil’s long leg, planting tender kisses upon his shin, then his knee, and then several times on his taut thigh, which caused the pleasant sensation of chills along the young Elf’s back. Rúmil moaned in frustration as he waited for the talented hands and mouth to reach his aching arousal.

When Elrond reached Rúmil’s pelvis, he stopped kissing him and stood up beside the bed. Rúmil gasped to see the huge erection that the Elf-lord revealed to him, poking out of a strongly-muscled warrior’s body. Rúmil thought then of all the tales he had heard of the great battles that Elrond had fought at the side of Ereinion Gil-galad. He thought, too, of the other stories he had heard. That Elrond and Gil-galad had been lovers for many years, and of the devastation that Elrond had felt when the last High-king of the Noldor had perished in the battle of Dagorlad, the last battle against Sauron.

Rúmil reached out tentatively to touch the Elf-lord’s organ. He moaned as he felt its head of velvet and spread his hand around its girth. Then he moved forward and encased the tip of the organ in his mouth, running his soft lips around the ridge and savouring the flavour he tasted there. Elrond cried out and his knees buckled at the feathery touches that Rúmil placed upon him. He leaned forward and reached out to grasp Rúmil’s own organ as the young Elf suckled him, taking him more deeply into his tender mouth. The Elf-lord stroked Rúmil’s slender young shaft lovingly, eliciting soft moans from the blond Elf, and then he lowered his head to take the smooth length into his own mouth.

Rúmil adjusted his position so that Elrond could lie on top of the bed also, and they continued to enjoy each other orally, until Elrond raised his head and groaned with pleasure. “Ai, Rúmil!” he cried. “Stop! I do not wish this to end yet, and I am almost at the point of release!”

Rúmil raised his head and gasped, “So am I!” Elrond then turned himself around and left a trail of kisses along Rúmil’s slender body from his groin to his chest, stopping at a hard little nipple to suckle it before he raised himself to claim Rúmil’s lips again in a tender kiss. They kissed for several minutes, their tongues exploring the warm confines of each other’s mouths before Elrond released Rúmil’s swollen lips.

“Ai, Gods, but you are delicious”, he pronounced. “Please turn yourself over now”. Rúmil did so, lying on his stomach, and Elrond’s breath hitched as he saw again the burn on the young Elf’s back, dry now and starting to scab lightly. He ran his hand very tenderly over the roughness of the scabbing wound. “I must do something about this soon”, he said.

“It is no matter”, murmured Rúmil.

Elrond then ran his hand down the slender back to the rounded flesh of the young Elf’s pert backside, running his finger along the crevice between the two adorable mounds. He lowered his head to plant kisses on each buttock, delicately nipping the tender flesh, as Rúmil writhed and moaned beneath him. He reached under the young Elf to grasp and stroke his neglected member, and then clasped Rúmil’s hips with both hands to pull him upwards so he was balanced on his knees, his delectable rump leaning back into Elrond’s groin. Elrond pressed his erection up against Rúmil’s sweet cleft, and placed a finger at the tight entrance. He produced a jar of oil from the nightstand and spread it over his fingers and rubbed some down the length of Rúmil’s crevice. Then Elrond carefully inserted a finger, and then two, and wriggled them to open the tight passageway. Rúmil bucked his lithe hips and groaned as the Elf-lord did so. Then Elrond pushed his member against the entrance, and pushed carefully in.

Rúmil jerked and screamed, and Elrond grasped him under the armpits and pulled his upper torso up quickly to lean against his chest, and pushed his penis farther into Rúmil’s passage. The young Elf yelped and moaned and his blond head fell back against Elrond’s shoulders. The feel of the silky hair upon his chest was too much for Elrond then and he growled and nipped Rúmil at the junction of his creamy neck and shoulder. Then he pushed his hard shaft in to the hilt, supporting Rúmil with a strong arm around his chest. With his other hand, he reached down to stroke Rúmil’s hard young penis. The young Elf lost all sense of time and space as he gave in to the pleasurable sensations of being taken from both front and rear, whimpering and sighing as his young body was expertly ravished.

Soon, after a few more thrusts and jerks, both Elves came simultaneously in a rush of ecstasy shared by both. Rúmil’s seed spurted onto his coverlet, as Elrond spilled his inside the ravishing bottom of the young Elf. Afterwards, they lay together for several minutes before they dressed and headed for the stables.

“For me”, Elrond told Rúmil, “that was a perfect union. But it was too perfect, I feel, and was lacking something”.

Rúmil looked surprised and disappointed. “It was lacking nothing for me, My Lord”, he said. Elrond looked at him and smiled.

“Ah”, he said, “do not mind my complaints, for they are trivial. I referred to a certain lack of emotion in our pairing, but that is something that should come with time. After all, this was our first tryst. That it was so perfect in the physical sense has given me the idea, unsubstantially, that it should also have been perfect in a passionate sense”.

Rúmil stared at him dispassionately. “I am sorry that I have been disappointing to you in any way”, he said softly.

Elrond bit his lip and inwardly cursed himself for being critical of this young Elf, who had shown his passion in the actions he had taken to arrive in Rivendell safely, however remote from Elrond himself these actions had been. He gathered Rúmil into his arms and hugged him closely. The fullness of the heart would come in time, he thought. “Let me tend to your wound”, he said, and released his young lover.

Elrond found a jar of salve and spread it carefully over the burn on Rúmil’s back, and continued to give him a languid massage. Neither spoke to each other at all on the way to the stables, too dazed were they both from their ardent lovemaking and the wondering of both if it was destined to be more than a mere fling.

Elrond worried over the fact that he had not told Rúmil ahead of time that his horse had broken its leg in the fall down into the valley. He felt a twinge of guilt in having desired to selfishly make love to the boy before he had told him the bad news; therefore causing Rúmil to be in a happier state of mind than if he had heard the bad news first. Elrond stopped the young Elf at the stable entrance before he could proceed any further. “Rúmil, I must speak with you about the horse before you enter”, he said sadly.

Rúmil became alarmed at these words; his blue eyes grew wide and a frown appeared between his fair brows. “What is it, My Lord?” he asked.

“Now first, Rúmil, please call me ‘Elrond’, and not ‘My Lord’. Secondly, I have had bad news about your horse, and I must tell you this before you see him”.

“Will it not look odd to others to hear me call you ‘Elrond’?” Rúmil asked. “And what is this bad news?” He swallowed hard and his heart began to beat very fast.

“I suppose you are right about calling me that in front of others”. Elrond sighed. “Unfortunately, Rúmil, when your horse fell down the slope, his leg was broken. I wish to tell you this now before you go in to see him”.

“Why did you not tell me that news much sooner, Elrond?” asked Rúmil. “Then I could have come to visit him before now”. Rúmil’s fair face bore a look of great distress, yet he had no blame for Elrond. The Elf-lord felt horrible.

“I am so sorry, Rúmil, but nothing would have changed for the horse. Think of it from his point of view. Come, let us go and see him”. He took Rúmil’s arm and escorted the young Elf inside. When they approached the stall, the stallion recognized Rúmil immediately and became agitated, rearing its head up and down upon its powerful neck and neighing loudly. A groom tried to calm it, but Rúmil dashed quickly over to its stall and began to soothe the animal, rubbing its sleek nose with a calming hand and speaking to it in soft tones.

“The trainers tell me that he should be put down, Rúmil”, Elrond told him hesitantly. Rúmil turned and gave him a look of reproach and disappointment.

“No!” he said fiercely. “YOU must heal him!”

“Me?” said Elrond, startled. “I know nothing of horses!”

“Then you must learn”, said Rúmil firmly. He turned his attention again to the stallion and began to sing him a song with a low, lilting melody. “I have just thought of the perfect name!” he exclaimed suddenly. “I know not what he was called before, but now I shall name him ‘Faeráwe’”.

“Spirit of Flesh?” questioned Elrond. “Why that name?”

“Spirit of Flesh. Faeráwe”, Rúmil repeated. “Because that is what he is. On the way to Rivendell I rode him barefoot, and communicated to him by way of my flesh meeting his. I would press my toes into his sides and he knew exactly what I wanted him to do and where I wanted him to go. I stood upon his back and dug in my toes and he knew what to do from that”.

Elrond sighed. “Well, then, a magnificent and intelligent horse such as this must not be allowed to succumb to a broken leg”, Elrond announced. “I am, after all, a healer, and I promise you that I will fix his leg so that it will be as it was before”.

Both Rúmil and the horse beamed brightly at the Elf-lord.

“Faeráwe, indeed”, said Elrond.

A/N:

Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story so far.

To Sherry:

Thank you for your kind words and your concrit. I found the concrit to be very helpful, and have made a few changes accordingly to Chapter Three. I wasn’t clear enough in describing where Rúmil and his horse were at various times. Actually, I had used the map that is in the Alan Lee Illustrated Edition of LOTR that has a scale, and I also used as a guide the instances where Gandalf tells Pippin that Minas Tirith is a four-day ride from Edoras “as the nazgul flies”. The distances are approximately the same between Edoras and Minas Tirith, and Lothlorien and Rivendell. However, I had neglected to discern that “as the nazgul flies” means that the route would have been direct, and that Rúmil and the horse would have had to traverse through the mountains, a winding path indeed. Therefore, with the help of a friend who also wrote a story involving maps, I decided to use the theory that the trip would have taken approximately ten days, but I deliberately rewrote the chapter to make all travel and distance references much more vague. Now that I have learned my lesson, I shall never again try to be specific when describing distances traveled. It doesn’t help when I learned that Tolkien himself was wrong in a lot of cases about his own maps and his description of the distances his characters had to travel! I was actually recommended a great book, the Fonstad Atlas, in which author Karen Fonstad has redrawn Tolkien’s maps complete with corrections of his original work. Thanks again for your interest and the time involved in letting me know about my errors! I very much appreciate having the opportunity to correct them.