Until We Meet Again
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,226
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,226
Reviews:
4
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.
Until We Meet Again
Title: Until We Meet Again
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Rating: PG13/R
Pairing: Rúmil/Legolas
Summary: Legolas gives Rúmil something to remember him by.
Disclaimer: Not mine, it all belongs to Tolkien.
Notes: For Elvensong, who gave me this bunny at about 2am this morning and is probably at JFK airport right now.
************
Legolas’ lips trailed kisses down Rúmil’s naked body, causing his lover to gasp and moan. It was sweet music to the Prince’s ears after all that he and the rest of the fellowship had endured recently. Even the loss of Gandalf faded as he worshipped the pale body of the Galadhel beneath him.
It had been too long since last they were together and deep in his heart, Legolas feared that the following day might bring their last parting. He would fight, for he would never willingly leave Rúmil, but both knew from long experience that war rarely listened to the cries of the heart.
“Legolas,” Rúmil’s whisper could barely be heard as he wrapped his arms around the Prince. Yet the word was filled with love, longing and the same fear that he also felt. He clutched tightly to his lover as he brought their bodies closer, breathing in the scent of his hair and thanking the Valar for this respite.
Rúmil had been waiting for him when the Fellowship had crossed at last into the borders of Lórien and though they had not been able to immediately embrace; just the presence of the Galadhel had been a balm on his aching heart. For a time, he had been content just to look at him, often sharing amused glances as Haldir and Gimli exchanged barbs.
Yet once the others had departed Rúmil had pulled him into his arms and kissed him – a soft kiss, full of love and comfort. His lover knew what horrors he had seen – they had long been friends and lovers, and Rúmil did not need to be told what Legolas needed.
Few words had passed between them and for that Legolas was grateful, for he had not the strength to speak yet of what he had seen in the depths of Moria. In all his long life, nothing had ever caused him such fear and it unnerved him greatly.
Instead, Rúmil had simply taken him to his talan, kissing him before letting him take control, letting him forget the feelings of helplessness that had been consuming him since Gandalf fell.
Now, as he moved to lovingly prepare Rúmil he began to feel strong again, the fear muted by the presence of his heart’s desire.
“I love you,” he whispered, as Rúmil gazed up at him, “I love you so very much.”
“I love you too,” Rúmil replied, still writhing under Legolas’ touch, “I need you…”
Legolas nodded, as words fell away once again. Kissing Rúmil deeply he pushed inside the waiting body, holding him and trying to put all the love he felt for the Lórien Elf into every movement he made. Even if only for tonight, there was no Fellowship, no war, no Ring, no one else but them. Just for now they would be selfish, indulging their desires and expressing their love before reality and morning came to tear them apart again.
They moved in perfect unison, spirits and bodies mingling to become one. Legolas vowed not to forget a single moment, he would cherish these memories when they had long departed from here and they would bring him comfort when nothing else did.
The look in Rúmil’s eyes told him that his lover felt the same, that when his physical presence was gone, memories would be his strength, even if hope should fade. With a pang of regret Legolas hoped that they would still give Rúmil strength even if he should not return.
Completion came swiftly, his desire spilling into Rúmil’s body and Rúmil spilling over them both with a soft cry.
Rolling over, Legolas pulled Rúmil into his arms again, the Lórien Elf curling up to him and smiling.
“Feel better, love?” he asked softly, reaching out to brush Legolas’ face with his fingers, his green eyes meeting the bright blue eyes of the Mirkwood Prince.
“Aye, I do,” he replied, leaning into the caress. “Thank you.”
It was then that a strange sound came from Rúmil and Legolas looked up in alarm. It was with horror untold that he realised that Rúmil, proud warrior of Lórien, was crying.
“Rúmil!” he gasped, cupping the pale face in his hands, “why do you weep?”
Ashamed, Rúmil looked up at him, unable to stop the tears from falling.
“I am afraid,” he admitted, “that you will not return. We are not bound but we are friends and lovers – I fear to lose you. I know not what can make you return to me.”
Sadness and guilt welled in Legolas’ heart as he held Rúmil. He wanted to tell Rúmil that the war would not claim him, that he would return safe and well, but he could not make a promise that might be broken despite all his efforts. Instead, he prayed to Elbereth for a way in which he might soothe Rúmil as he had soothed him.
*****************
“My gift to you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our Woodland kin.” The soft voice of the Lady of the Wood seemed to speak directly to his heart.
Carefully, almost reverently, Legolas took the bow that Lady Galadriel offered him.
“Thank you, My Lady,” he said, pleased beyond measure with the gift. Though he loved his own bow those of Lórien were stronger, more powerful and beautifully crafted. It would be mildly cumbersome to carry two bows, but it would be worth it.
Running his fingers along the carved wood as he admired the bow, he saw a small carving just above where he gripped it. Looking closer, his heart skipped a beat as he saw Rúmil’s name carved in tiny letters. He knew then that it was Rúmil himself who had made this bow; that it had been meant for him long before Lady Galadriel had chosen to bestow gifts upon them. In that moment, he knew how he could soothe Rúmil’s heart.
It took only a moment to find his lover, standing alone by a tall tree, having retreated there after pinning the Lórien broach upon Legolas’ cloak.
Not caring who saw he embraced him, breathing deeply as Rúmil’s arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the feel and committing it all to memory. Then he stepped back and reaching for his Mirkwood bow, pressed it into Rúmil’s hands.
“I cannot carry two,” he said before Rúmil could speak. “Yet it was a gift from my Father and means much to me. I would have you take care of it – one day, I will return to claim it again.”
That much he knew was true, that even should he fall, one day he would be reborn. Until then, Rúmil would have something tangible to hold onto, something that meant a great deal to him, until he himself finally returned.
Gratitude and love shone in Rúmil’s eyes as his fingers wrapped around the smooth wood and he looked up to smile slightly at Legolas.
“I promise you, I will guard it and keep it safe, until you come back for it,” he whispered, speaking not only of the bow, but of his heart. “It will be waiting for you.”
“I can ask for no more,” Legolas replied. “Be well, Rúmil of Lórien.” He brushed his lips over the Galadhel’s in a goodbye kiss and then hurried to where Gimli awaited him in the boat, afraid that his resolve would falter if he lingered any longer.
Rúmil watched as they sailed away, never moving until they were finally out of sight and duty called him back to the depths of the Golden Wood, the Mirkwood bow still held tightly in his hands.
***********************
In the first year of the Fourth Age, Legolas’ travels at last brought him back to Lothlórien. Much had happened since he had last been here, but his heart had remained true and he could only hope that his was not the only one.
He need not have worried. Word had already reached Lothlórien of his approach and Rúmil was waiting for him, just like he had been when the Fellowship had arrived so long ago. In his hands was Legolas’ Mirkwood bow, as if it had never left them since the prince had placed it there.
Dismounting from his horse Legolas hurried up to Rúmil, who handed the bow over with hands that almost trembled. Taking the bow, Legolas looked at it, remembering, before putting it aside and pulling Rúmil into his arms at last.
His heart swelled with love and contentment as he held the Lórien Elf, hardly daring to believe that he was back at last, that they had both survived the terrible war. Yet they had and against all the odds, were at last reunited.
That night, Legolas finally asked Rúmil to bond with him.
THE END
Please review!
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Rating: PG13/R
Pairing: Rúmil/Legolas
Summary: Legolas gives Rúmil something to remember him by.
Disclaimer: Not mine, it all belongs to Tolkien.
Notes: For Elvensong, who gave me this bunny at about 2am this morning and is probably at JFK airport right now.
************
Legolas’ lips trailed kisses down Rúmil’s naked body, causing his lover to gasp and moan. It was sweet music to the Prince’s ears after all that he and the rest of the fellowship had endured recently. Even the loss of Gandalf faded as he worshipped the pale body of the Galadhel beneath him.
It had been too long since last they were together and deep in his heart, Legolas feared that the following day might bring their last parting. He would fight, for he would never willingly leave Rúmil, but both knew from long experience that war rarely listened to the cries of the heart.
“Legolas,” Rúmil’s whisper could barely be heard as he wrapped his arms around the Prince. Yet the word was filled with love, longing and the same fear that he also felt. He clutched tightly to his lover as he brought their bodies closer, breathing in the scent of his hair and thanking the Valar for this respite.
Rúmil had been waiting for him when the Fellowship had crossed at last into the borders of Lórien and though they had not been able to immediately embrace; just the presence of the Galadhel had been a balm on his aching heart. For a time, he had been content just to look at him, often sharing amused glances as Haldir and Gimli exchanged barbs.
Yet once the others had departed Rúmil had pulled him into his arms and kissed him – a soft kiss, full of love and comfort. His lover knew what horrors he had seen – they had long been friends and lovers, and Rúmil did not need to be told what Legolas needed.
Few words had passed between them and for that Legolas was grateful, for he had not the strength to speak yet of what he had seen in the depths of Moria. In all his long life, nothing had ever caused him such fear and it unnerved him greatly.
Instead, Rúmil had simply taken him to his talan, kissing him before letting him take control, letting him forget the feelings of helplessness that had been consuming him since Gandalf fell.
Now, as he moved to lovingly prepare Rúmil he began to feel strong again, the fear muted by the presence of his heart’s desire.
“I love you,” he whispered, as Rúmil gazed up at him, “I love you so very much.”
“I love you too,” Rúmil replied, still writhing under Legolas’ touch, “I need you…”
Legolas nodded, as words fell away once again. Kissing Rúmil deeply he pushed inside the waiting body, holding him and trying to put all the love he felt for the Lórien Elf into every movement he made. Even if only for tonight, there was no Fellowship, no war, no Ring, no one else but them. Just for now they would be selfish, indulging their desires and expressing their love before reality and morning came to tear them apart again.
They moved in perfect unison, spirits and bodies mingling to become one. Legolas vowed not to forget a single moment, he would cherish these memories when they had long departed from here and they would bring him comfort when nothing else did.
The look in Rúmil’s eyes told him that his lover felt the same, that when his physical presence was gone, memories would be his strength, even if hope should fade. With a pang of regret Legolas hoped that they would still give Rúmil strength even if he should not return.
Completion came swiftly, his desire spilling into Rúmil’s body and Rúmil spilling over them both with a soft cry.
Rolling over, Legolas pulled Rúmil into his arms again, the Lórien Elf curling up to him and smiling.
“Feel better, love?” he asked softly, reaching out to brush Legolas’ face with his fingers, his green eyes meeting the bright blue eyes of the Mirkwood Prince.
“Aye, I do,” he replied, leaning into the caress. “Thank you.”
It was then that a strange sound came from Rúmil and Legolas looked up in alarm. It was with horror untold that he realised that Rúmil, proud warrior of Lórien, was crying.
“Rúmil!” he gasped, cupping the pale face in his hands, “why do you weep?”
Ashamed, Rúmil looked up at him, unable to stop the tears from falling.
“I am afraid,” he admitted, “that you will not return. We are not bound but we are friends and lovers – I fear to lose you. I know not what can make you return to me.”
Sadness and guilt welled in Legolas’ heart as he held Rúmil. He wanted to tell Rúmil that the war would not claim him, that he would return safe and well, but he could not make a promise that might be broken despite all his efforts. Instead, he prayed to Elbereth for a way in which he might soothe Rúmil as he had soothed him.
*****************
“My gift to you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our Woodland kin.” The soft voice of the Lady of the Wood seemed to speak directly to his heart.
Carefully, almost reverently, Legolas took the bow that Lady Galadriel offered him.
“Thank you, My Lady,” he said, pleased beyond measure with the gift. Though he loved his own bow those of Lórien were stronger, more powerful and beautifully crafted. It would be mildly cumbersome to carry two bows, but it would be worth it.
Running his fingers along the carved wood as he admired the bow, he saw a small carving just above where he gripped it. Looking closer, his heart skipped a beat as he saw Rúmil’s name carved in tiny letters. He knew then that it was Rúmil himself who had made this bow; that it had been meant for him long before Lady Galadriel had chosen to bestow gifts upon them. In that moment, he knew how he could soothe Rúmil’s heart.
It took only a moment to find his lover, standing alone by a tall tree, having retreated there after pinning the Lórien broach upon Legolas’ cloak.
Not caring who saw he embraced him, breathing deeply as Rúmil’s arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the feel and committing it all to memory. Then he stepped back and reaching for his Mirkwood bow, pressed it into Rúmil’s hands.
“I cannot carry two,” he said before Rúmil could speak. “Yet it was a gift from my Father and means much to me. I would have you take care of it – one day, I will return to claim it again.”
That much he knew was true, that even should he fall, one day he would be reborn. Until then, Rúmil would have something tangible to hold onto, something that meant a great deal to him, until he himself finally returned.
Gratitude and love shone in Rúmil’s eyes as his fingers wrapped around the smooth wood and he looked up to smile slightly at Legolas.
“I promise you, I will guard it and keep it safe, until you come back for it,” he whispered, speaking not only of the bow, but of his heart. “It will be waiting for you.”
“I can ask for no more,” Legolas replied. “Be well, Rúmil of Lórien.” He brushed his lips over the Galadhel’s in a goodbye kiss and then hurried to where Gimli awaited him in the boat, afraid that his resolve would falter if he lingered any longer.
Rúmil watched as they sailed away, never moving until they were finally out of sight and duty called him back to the depths of the Golden Wood, the Mirkwood bow still held tightly in his hands.
***********************
In the first year of the Fourth Age, Legolas’ travels at last brought him back to Lothlórien. Much had happened since he had last been here, but his heart had remained true and he could only hope that his was not the only one.
He need not have worried. Word had already reached Lothlórien of his approach and Rúmil was waiting for him, just like he had been when the Fellowship had arrived so long ago. In his hands was Legolas’ Mirkwood bow, as if it had never left them since the prince had placed it there.
Dismounting from his horse Legolas hurried up to Rúmil, who handed the bow over with hands that almost trembled. Taking the bow, Legolas looked at it, remembering, before putting it aside and pulling Rúmil into his arms at last.
His heart swelled with love and contentment as he held the Lórien Elf, hardly daring to believe that he was back at last, that they had both survived the terrible war. Yet they had and against all the odds, were at last reunited.
That night, Legolas finally asked Rúmil to bond with him.
THE END
Please review!