Guardian Angel

Title: Guardian Angel - Chapter 7
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Pairing: Rúmil/Lindir
Rating: R (Eventually)
Beta: Enismirdal
Summary: Lindir finally meets his guardian angel - then has to work out how to keep him.
Previous chapters: http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=544186765 or via the lj tags.
Notes: For SayAye, with love.

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Lindir wondered how best to handle his budding friendship with Rúmil. He suspected he would have to take things very slowly, for fear of scaring Rúmil off. He could not help but wonder what the Galadhel was like in battle - surely his shyness left him then, or he would be a poor warrior, and Lindir could not believe that. The minstrel smiled to himself, realising that Rúmil likely found Orcs easier to face than other Elves. "Perhaps I should try to make him fight me," he murmured to himself, only half in jest.

In truth though, he would not be able to defend himself while sparring, let alone in a genuine battle. After losing his family to an Orc attack, he had spent most of his life trying to distance himself from the horrors of war. It was part of the reason that he rarely left Imladris, knowing that war was unlikely to touch Elrond's hidden valley.

Yet despite his past, he was far more confident and outgoing than Rúmil. Indeed, given the Elf’s disposition, it surprised Lindir that Rúmil had willingly chosen the career he had.

But then, he had to admit that the contradiction was half the appeal.

Unfortunately, that did not help him in working out what to do next to further their friendship. All his usual ideas did not seem to apply to Rúmil and he was beginning to worry that he would start to bore the other Elf. The time spent by the river had been wonderful and though he had done most of the talking, Rúmil had listened attentively as he rambled on. Now he wanted to get Rúmil to open up, if just a little, and allow him to find out what the shy Elf liked without having to ask his brothers. Until Rúmil started trusting him, their relationship was never going to develop.

For the past few days, they had taken plenty of walks, during which Lindir talked and Rúmil listened. Rúmil never asked questions - he rarely spoke - and the minstrel was running out of topics to talk about, let alone places to walk to. Only a few days into the friendship, a rut was already forming. It did not bode well.

Feeling more than a little frustrated, he left to make his way to Rúmil’s rooms. He was not expected, but hoped that by catching Rúmil off-guard, he might sneak past the barriers that the Elf seemed to keep around him.

Knocking on the door, Lindir did not have long to wait before Rúmil opened it. There was a book in his hand and Lindir tried to look at the title, to see what reading material Rúmil enjoyed. “Good morning,” he said brightly. “Are you ready for our morning walk?” The words slipped out without thought, in a moment of inspiration. By making the walks a daily activity, he guaranteed himself time with the warrior, knowing that Rúmil was highly unlikely to protest.

“I... one moment.” Rúmil was clearly flustered by this, yet Lindir only nodded, not sorry in the least. He liked Haldir and Orophin, but it was clear that they let Rúmil get away with too much - he intended to push him, for Rúmil’s own good.

Lindir waited patiently as Rúmil set his book down and retrieved his boots. Taking the opportunity to glance at the leather-bound volume, his heart leapt as he saw it was a book he had spoken of just two days previously, proof that Rúmil did take at least some of what he said to heart.

As Rúmil returned, his feet now booted, Lindir smiled brightly. “Are you enjoying the book?” he asked, waving at where it sat on the table.

Rúmil blushed. “I am,” he admitted, “though I was not sure I would.”

“I am glad,” Lindir replied. “It is different from what I usually read as well, but I enjoy trying new things.” Pausing, he took a small risk. “You will have to tell me the kind of books you usually read.”

Looking a little startled, Rúmil nodded. He had not offered any information as to the things he liked, but he could not blame Lindir for asking. “Now?” he asked tentively.

Lindir shook his head. He would save that for the next awkward moment; currently things were going quite well. “Perhaps later. I am eager to walk now. A minstrel does not get as much exercise as a warrior!”

The small jest brought a slight smile to Rúmil’s face and he nodded. It was another sign that he was starting to relax in Lindir's presence and the minstrel was heartened by every sign of progress. A lesser Elf may have given up on Rúmil by now - indeed, others had in the past - but Lindir was stubborn and had no intention of quitting.

They left Rúmil’s rooms and made their way outside. The day was bright, the sun shining through the thick canopy of leaves that sat high above them. Seeking a change, Lindir took a different route, leading them along a winding path that he had never been down before.

“I hope we do not become lost!” he said. “These woods are so big we might never find our way back!” He smiled winningly at Rúmil. “But I should not worry. I have you to protect me.”

To his surprise, Rúmil did not blush, but stiffened and looked away, hiding his face completely. Confused, Lindir wondered what he had said that had made Rúmil so uncomfortable.

“Rúmil?” he queried. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” Rúmil muttered, his voice even softer than usual. “F...fine.”

Resisting the urge to sigh out loud, Lindir let him be. To press too much too soon would only scare him off, yet he desperately wished that Rúmil would say something of his own accord, just once.

They walked on in silence for a time, Lindir wondering what to say, Rúmil content to let the previous conversation go. Eventually it was neither of them that broke the silence, but a sound from a short distance away. To Lindir, it was a sound that made him nervous, but for Rúmil, it was something very familiar.

Lindir could see that Rúmil’s attention had been caught and that he was drifting away from him, towards the source of the sounds. Curious, he followed until they reached the source.

It was a training ground, a ring marked out with wooden stakes. Two young Greenwood Elves were sparring with swords, the clanging of the blades meeting making the noise they had heard. Around them a small crowd of warriors from various realms watched with interest.

Wandering to the edge of the crowd, Rúmil observed the fighters. Lindir, on the other hand, observed Rúmil. The Galadhel followed every movement of the combatants without blinking, tracking their moves and analysing them. He seemed oblivious to everything else.

“Were he not so timid, he would have both of them beaten by now.”

Surprised at being spoken to, Lindir turned to see Haldir standing next to him. He was casually dressed and looked slightly rumpled - Lindir guessed that he had already taken his turn in the ring. “Truly?”

Haldir nodded. “Look at him... he misses nothing. Given a little more confidence, he would be one of our best tacticians. Unfortunately he rarely volunteers information, unless the matter is urgent.”

“I would like to see him sparring,” Lindir said, surprising himself with his words. “I still cannot see him as a warrior, despite what I have been told.”

Chuckling, Haldir nodded. “It was hard for us to accept too, yet despite all evidence to the contrary, he is an excellent guard… once he comes out of his shell enough to show it.”

Lindir was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, having checked that Rúmil’s attention was still on the sparring warriors, he stepped away and caught the attention of a Greenwood guard making his way to where he could be selected for a match. They spoke quietly for a few moments, before the warrior nodded and carried on towards the ring.

As Lindir returned, Haldir frowned. “What did you just do?” he asked.

Lindir smiled wryly. “I believe I may have just pushed my luck. Let us just hope I have not pushed it too far.”

Rúmil nodded in satisfaction as one of the combatants finally fell. He had suspected this one would go down first – his technique had not been as fluid as the other Elf’s and he had shown signs of tiring first. He enjoyed this, it had been a hobby of his since childhood and one that had eventually allowed him to prove himself in the Galadhrim.

He kept watching as another Elf stepped in and looked around to select his opponent. There was no shortage of willing warriors, especially those from the visiting realms who wished to prove themselves.

The Elf looked around carefully before finally making his choice. “You there, from Lórien.” He pointed and a few Elves stepped aside. Rúmil frowned, wondering why he could not see who was being called forward, until the horrifying truth sank in. The Elf was pointing at him.

“No… I… I am not… I am… watching,” he stuttered, starting to back away. He did not realise that Lindir was now standing directly behind him, preventing him from leaving, discreetly or otherwise.

“Oh, you must!” Lindir smiled encouragingly. “Your brother says you are quite the fighter; you will do Lórien proud!”

Rúmil shot Haldir a glare that would have made an Orc cringe, but Haldir did not flinch. “Come, Rúmil, you know you can do it.”

“Oh, please do," Lindir encouraged. "I am sure you can win, Haldir tells me you are very good.”

Haldir nodded in agreement. "You know you are, Rúmil. It is not the first time you have done this... it is no different from your final exams."

Rúmil remembered those clearly. He had hated having everyone watching, but nonetheless, he had passed, quite easily at that. The crowd was encouraging him now, seeing his hesitation, and it was with a sinking feeling that he realised that to run would only draw more attention to him, as well as shame.

"Very well," he mumbled in resignation. Sighing, he made his way over to the stack of swords and selected one that felt comfortable before stepping into the ring. Almost immediately, he fixed his eyes on his opponent, partly to watch him and partly to block out the knowledge that there was a crowd looking on.

The Greenwood Elf smiled and bowed before making a swift attack. Rúmil dodged but did not retaliate, the blades not even meeting. The other Elf looked satisfied by this and wasted no time in attacking again. Rúmil jumped back and this time caught the Greenwood Elf's sword in a glancing blow. However, it was clear who was in control.

Lindir groaned. "This is terrible!" he whispered to Haldir. "Is he so nervous it is affecting his skill?" He could not believe that this was all Rúmil had to offer after what Haldir had told him.

“Perhaps,” Haldir said softly, his eyes on Rúmil as his younger brother stepped away from another blow, his own sword still unused in his hand. He was dodging them easily enough, but seemed to have no desire to retaliate. “He has time yet.”

Lindir could only hope Haldir was right as he followed the growing disaster. He found himself counting the blows Rúmil had dodged, wondering how long his luck would hold.

He had avoided four now and Lindir's heart skipped a beat as he stepped aside from the fifth, then the sixth. By now he was sure that he had made a terrible mistake and that if Rúmil ever found out this had been his idea, then he really would never have another chance with the Galadhel.

Then everything changed. The Greenwood warrior raised his sword for the seventh blow in a move that Lindir was sure Rúmil could not avoid. Yet to his utter surprise, Rúmil raised his own blade, deflecting the strike and forcing the other Elf back with surprising strength. Suddenly, Rúmil’s opponent found himself on the defensive, as the Galadhel attacked for the first time.

Stunned, Lindir could only watch as Rúmil turned the tables, parrying and returning the blows dealt by the other. The sword looked right in his hand now, slicing through the air as he made his attacks. "Where did this come from?" he asked, risking a glance at Haldir.

Haldir smiled. "I told you... he is an observer."

Suddenly, it all made sense. "The weak beginning... it was deliberate?"

Haldir nodded. "He does that. He will not attack without knowing the strengths of the enemy. Watch now… he knows his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, but our Greenwood friend does not know his.”

Lindir did as Haldir said and watched keenly as Rúmil increased the force of his attack. Caught off-guard, the Greenwood Elf struggled to hold his own against the sudden onslaught.

As well as knowing his opponent’s weaknesses, Rúmil was also extremely fast. The Elf he was fighting was not unskilled and doubtless had many years’ experience, but he seemed to be lagging now. For every blow he landed, Rúmil had a response and the Galadhel was now pushing him towards the edge of the circle, cornering him.

A moment later, it was over. Rúmil delivered a blow close to the hilt of his opponent’s sword with such force that it sent the weapon flying from the warrior’s hand. Not giving him chance to recover, he forced him to the ground and rested his sword lightly on his opponent’s neck.

Haldir and the other Lórien Elves cheered wildly at the victory, events like this always taking on a deeply competitive edge.

Rúmil blushed at the attention and quickly set his sword down, offering his hand to the Elf on the floor.

“Well fought” the Elf said cheerfully as he got up, slapping Rúmil on the back and causing him to jump. “We will have to have a rematch one day!” He strode off, leaving a slightly stunned Rúmil behind.

“There, I told you he could do it!” Haldir said to Lindir, looking in admiration at his younger brother as he made his way out of the ring.

Lindir, however, was silent. He had been very impressed with Rúmil’s skill, but there was something about the way the Elf had fought that bothered him, a nagging feeling of familiarity that he just could not place. One thing was certain, there was more to Rúmil than met the eye.

END CHAPTER 7