Come To Me
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-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
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Views:
1,202
Reviews:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,202
Reviews:
1
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.
Come To Me
Title: Come To Me
Author: TICS
Rated: R
Genre: AU angst and general dream-like weirdness
Summary: He sees you when you're sleeping...
Elves I've Abducted This TIme Around: Rumil
A/N: Written for the weekly challenge at www.DreamElf.com: Behind Closed Doors.
Come To Me
"You are not as I would have expected you to be. For months now, at that heartbeat of time before I fully wake from my reverie, while I still linger in that dreamy half-aware state and yet not, your voice has reached my ears. Soft...so soft and melodious it is to my hearing, and yet oh, so compelling. Come to me.
Always you say those same three words, never less, never more, never any others. Come to me. Those three simple words stir my feet to move and my loins to lust, although I know not where to run to, or how to ease the boiling in my blood. How can such simple words inspire such strong reactions in me, when never have I cast my eyes upon the lips that make them? And yet, they do. Always. Come to me.
Tonight I lay upon my pallet behind the closed and barricaded door of my talan. I wish for no interruptions tonight...no unexpected emergencies. I wish for the company of no one, not even my brothers. In solitude and silence and darkness I lay, allowing my thoughts to drift. I think of your voice, of its sultry tones, of its enticing breathiness, and I wait. Come to me.
There! I hear it first in my soul, deep within my inner self, then again in my ears. Barely audible at first, less than a whisper, then again so close that I feel all I need do is turn my head and you will be there, whispering in my ear. But I know that I am alone, and refuse to give in to the temptation to turn and see only empty space. Again I hear you, insistent and needy, your voice pulling at the very core of my being. Come to me.
I would come to you. I would fly to you on feet that barely touched the ground if only I knew where to find you. I moan and beg silently, pleading with you to tell me where you are, but only, as always, do I hear those three same words. Come to me.
Finally, I can take no more. I rise and cloak myself against the bitter wind that blows outside of my talan walls. My heart beats wildly in my chest, threatening to escape the cage of ribs that keeps it within me. Into the cold night I wander, my feet taking me to the one place I might find solace, and all the while in my heart I hear your voice. Come to me.
In the garden I find it, sitting still and silent and waiting. I find the ewer in its hollow, near the gently babbling waters of the pool. As I have often watched the Lady do, I fill the ewer with the blessed waters, my mind and heart and soul focused on one thing and one thing only. Your voice. Your words. Come to me.
Into the mirror I let the waters fall, then set the ewer aside. I wait impatiently for the waters to still, to form that mirror-like surface that may show me what I pray they will...you, or may simply show me my own reflection, saddened and pained with failure. Again, I hear your voice in my soul, commanding me to obey. Come to me.
The waters still, and I steel myself. I look over the edge of the mirror into them, into the that which is my only hope. At first, I see nothing but my own eyes staring back at me...and then...a pair of lips, moving slowly and forming the words that have taken root in my heart. Come to me.
Your eyes are closed and you are dreaming in the way of Men. A small frown knits your brow, and I ache to soothe it away with my fingers. Come to me. Come to me. Over and over again your lips form those words and they echo again and again in my soul. Come to me.
Over the many centuries of my life I have met with misfortunes in battle that have scored horrendous wounds in my flesh, deep and agonizing, and yet they are nothing compared to the pain I feel now as I gaze helplessly into the mirror and see you...so close, and yet so utterly untouchable. You are not as I would have expected you to be...you are more. My desire for you rises like a wall of flame within me and I drop to my knees beside the Lady's mirror, tears coming unbidden to my eyes. Again you call to me and I hear you above the painful clamor of my heart. Come to me.
A prayer is upon my lips, a prayer to end all prayers. I ask and beg and threaten and bargain, promising anything and everything for this one small blessing. Valar! Hear me! Valar! Help me! Eru! Grant me my prayer! It is your voice that answers my cries. Come to me.
I weep. Bitter tears of hopelessness, of chances lost before they were ever within my grasp. And then, suddenly, without warning, the world spins wildly out of control. The trees sway and dance, bending to kiss the ground. The winds blow so fiercely that I fear for the city itself to withstand them. The waters in the mirror, so still and silent a moment before rise up before my eyes in a twisting, undulating, powerful maelstrom. Above the howl of the wind, above all that is happening around me, I hear your voice. Come to me.
I come.
I am here.
The End.
Author: TICS
Rated: R
Genre: AU angst and general dream-like weirdness
Summary: He sees you when you're sleeping...
Elves I've Abducted This TIme Around: Rumil
A/N: Written for the weekly challenge at www.DreamElf.com: Behind Closed Doors.
Come To Me
"You are not as I would have expected you to be. For months now, at that heartbeat of time before I fully wake from my reverie, while I still linger in that dreamy half-aware state and yet not, your voice has reached my ears. Soft...so soft and melodious it is to my hearing, and yet oh, so compelling. Come to me.
Always you say those same three words, never less, never more, never any others. Come to me. Those three simple words stir my feet to move and my loins to lust, although I know not where to run to, or how to ease the boiling in my blood. How can such simple words inspire such strong reactions in me, when never have I cast my eyes upon the lips that make them? And yet, they do. Always. Come to me.
Tonight I lay upon my pallet behind the closed and barricaded door of my talan. I wish for no interruptions tonight...no unexpected emergencies. I wish for the company of no one, not even my brothers. In solitude and silence and darkness I lay, allowing my thoughts to drift. I think of your voice, of its sultry tones, of its enticing breathiness, and I wait. Come to me.
There! I hear it first in my soul, deep within my inner self, then again in my ears. Barely audible at first, less than a whisper, then again so close that I feel all I need do is turn my head and you will be there, whispering in my ear. But I know that I am alone, and refuse to give in to the temptation to turn and see only empty space. Again I hear you, insistent and needy, your voice pulling at the very core of my being. Come to me.
I would come to you. I would fly to you on feet that barely touched the ground if only I knew where to find you. I moan and beg silently, pleading with you to tell me where you are, but only, as always, do I hear those three same words. Come to me.
Finally, I can take no more. I rise and cloak myself against the bitter wind that blows outside of my talan walls. My heart beats wildly in my chest, threatening to escape the cage of ribs that keeps it within me. Into the cold night I wander, my feet taking me to the one place I might find solace, and all the while in my heart I hear your voice. Come to me.
In the garden I find it, sitting still and silent and waiting. I find the ewer in its hollow, near the gently babbling waters of the pool. As I have often watched the Lady do, I fill the ewer with the blessed waters, my mind and heart and soul focused on one thing and one thing only. Your voice. Your words. Come to me.
Into the mirror I let the waters fall, then set the ewer aside. I wait impatiently for the waters to still, to form that mirror-like surface that may show me what I pray they will...you, or may simply show me my own reflection, saddened and pained with failure. Again, I hear your voice in my soul, commanding me to obey. Come to me.
The waters still, and I steel myself. I look over the edge of the mirror into them, into the that which is my only hope. At first, I see nothing but my own eyes staring back at me...and then...a pair of lips, moving slowly and forming the words that have taken root in my heart. Come to me.
Your eyes are closed and you are dreaming in the way of Men. A small frown knits your brow, and I ache to soothe it away with my fingers. Come to me. Come to me. Over and over again your lips form those words and they echo again and again in my soul. Come to me.
Over the many centuries of my life I have met with misfortunes in battle that have scored horrendous wounds in my flesh, deep and agonizing, and yet they are nothing compared to the pain I feel now as I gaze helplessly into the mirror and see you...so close, and yet so utterly untouchable. You are not as I would have expected you to be...you are more. My desire for you rises like a wall of flame within me and I drop to my knees beside the Lady's mirror, tears coming unbidden to my eyes. Again you call to me and I hear you above the painful clamor of my heart. Come to me.
A prayer is upon my lips, a prayer to end all prayers. I ask and beg and threaten and bargain, promising anything and everything for this one small blessing. Valar! Hear me! Valar! Help me! Eru! Grant me my prayer! It is your voice that answers my cries. Come to me.
I weep. Bitter tears of hopelessness, of chances lost before they were ever within my grasp. And then, suddenly, without warning, the world spins wildly out of control. The trees sway and dance, bending to kiss the ground. The winds blow so fiercely that I fear for the city itself to withstand them. The waters in the mirror, so still and silent a moment before rise up before my eyes in a twisting, undulating, powerful maelstrom. Above the howl of the wind, above all that is happening around me, I hear your voice. Come to me.
I come.
I am here.
The End.