Chapter
7
Things
slowly improved for Rúmil after that. He was still painfully
withdrawn, but seemed to be content to follow Lindir around
and had even been convinced to write down things that could
not be expressed without words. A roll of parchment and charcoal
became as much a part of him as his bow has once been and though
it was clear that a full recovery was not possible, it seemed
as if he had found a reason to live in the gentle minstrel.
Soon
after they revealed their feelings to each other, Lindir asked
Rúmil to move into his rooms. Rúmil accepted and
his handful of belongings, most of which he’d acquired
in Imladris, were moved to Lindir’s much larger rooms.
The minstrel had done his best to make Rúmil feel at
home, though he knew his chambers could never compare with the
simple beauty of a Lórien talan.
There
had been some problems. The first night after Rúmil moved
in, Lindir was awoken by an arm connecting painfully with his
stomach. Sitting up with a jerk he had found Rúmil thrashing
wildly, caught in the throes of a nightmare. His lips moved
in silent cries, far too fast for Lindir to even attempt lip-reading.
“Rúmil!” He cried, placing his hands on his
lover’s shoulders, shaking him gently. When he continued
to thrash, Lindir shook him harder, calling out. “Rúmil,
awake! Do not let the dream consume you!”
Rúmil blinked suddenly, jumping as he came to awareness.
Wild blue eyes met his, as Rúmil stared at him, shaking.
The
minstrel quickly pulled Rúmil into his arms, holding
him gently, muttering words of reassurance. The terrified Galadhrim
sank gratefully into the embrace, allowing Lindir to soothe
him, glad that someone was there. He often had these nightmares,
where he relived the death of his patrol and the orc blade cutting
into his throat.
Before though, he’d always woken alone, having to remind
himself that it was but a dream. This time, Lindir’s slender
arms held him comfortingly and Rúmil relaxed far more
quickly than he would have if he were by himself.
He
smiled as Lindir began to sing quietly, lulling him back to
sleep as though he were an elfling. He did not resist though,
for his heart told him that Lindir would guard his sleep and
that he need not fear the demons in his mind.
Indeed,
the demons must have feared the gentle minstrel, for as time
went on Rúmil’s nightmares dwindled until they
vanished altogether. This aided in his healing and all around
him delighted in the positive change, even if he was still only
a shadow of his former self.
*****************************
Rúmil
hurried along the halls to the rooms he and Lindir shared. A
servant had told him the minstrel needed to see him and he had
immediately gone to find him.
He
entered the room to find his lover packing a bag. Lindir looked
up as he entered and smiled. Rúmil however, frowned at
what he saw and gestured questioningly at the bag.
“This is why I wanted to see you.” Lindir said.
“A nearby human village is having a festival but they
have very few musicians. As a gesture of good will, Lord Elrond
is sending myself and five others to assist them in the festivities.
I leave this afternoon, but I’ll be back in three days.”
One look at Rúmil’s face told Lindir that the galadhrim
was less than pleased. He tried to placate him.
“The village is only a six-hour ride away and two of Lord
Glorfindel’s guards are going with us. It will be fine,
I’ll be back before you know it!”
Rúmil
was unconvinced. He didn’t like the thought of his lover
in a human village with only two guards. Desperately, he pointed
at Lindir, then at himself and then at the bag.
Some may not have understood what Rúmil was trying to
say, but Lindir already had a firm grasp of his lover’s
heart. He sadly shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Rúmil, I can’t take you
with me this time. These people barely understand elves as it
is, I’m sorry, meleth, but they’d never understand
you.” He hated to have to say it, to remind Rúmil
yet again that he was forever set apart from the other elves.
Rúmil nodded slowly and turned away. Lindir moved and
quickly wrapped his arms around the fragile elf. “I’m
sorry.” He whispered. “I’d take you with me
if I could.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Rúmil’s
lips. “Come, remind me why I should hurry back.”
He smiled and Rúmil nodded, pulling Lindir towards the
bed.
The
thought of Lindir leaving, even for three days, tore at Rúmil’s
heart.
He wished he could go with him, but knew that it was impossible.
Instead he gently pushed Lindir down onto the bed, kissing him
slowly as he removed his light robes. Yes, he would give Lindir
good reason to hurry home!
Every inch of skin that was exposed was kissed as Rúmil
lovingly worshipped the slender body.
“Rúmil… please.” Lindir whispered,
writhing under the soft caresses.
Rúmil nodded and stepped back, quickly removing his clothes.
He covered Lindir’s body with his own, pressing their
bodies as close together as possible. He lavished more kisses
on the pale skin, his hands beginning to roam.
Lindir
moaned, his arms encircling Rúmil’s back, wanting
to feel as much as he could. His parted his legs, needing to
have the Galadhrim within him.
Rúmil’s breath came in short gasps as he revelled
in the feel of the soft body beneath him. Lindir never ceased
to delight him, every time they lay together was special, his
very presence in Rúmil’s life was like a gift from
the Valar.
He
reached for the bottle of oil Lindir had acquired after the
first time they had lain together. Like many of the inhabitants
of Imladris he favoured the vanilla oil made locally and the
sweet scent filled the room in an instant.
Pouring
some onto his fingers, Rúmil carefully prepared his lover,
always fearful about causing pain to the one he held most dear.
Lindir squirmed under the attention, his hands clutching at
the sheets, eyes glazed with passion.
“More… please!” He gasped out, nearly screaming
as Rúmil’s fingers touched the sweet spot within
him.
Rúmil
leaned down, placing the most tender of kisses on Lindir’s
lips, before slowly removing his fingers.
Using some more of the oil he readied himself and then pushed
firmly into the Minstrel’s welcoming body.
“Ai!” Lindir cried out as he was entered, the feeling
of fullness almost overwhelming. Then Rúmil began to
move, going ever faster in and out of the blissful heat. It
felt so good; Lindir knew he would not last long. The galadhrim
was pushing him over the edge, he barely registered that there
was a world beyond the two of them. It wasn’t important.
Likewise,
Rúmil was lost inside of his lover, the perfect heat
making everything else insignificant. Every thrust brought him
closer to completion with his beautiful minstrel.
His hands digging into Lindir’s hips, mouth open in silent
bliss, he thrust one last time before spilling himself inside
the glorious body, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
The feeling of Rúmil’s release within him sent
Lindir over the edge, screaming Rúmil’s name as
he too reached his peak and saw stars explode in his vision.
As
Lindir slowly returned to the world, Rúmil moved, coming
to his side to wrap loving arms around him.
“I will miss you.” Lindir murmured, snuggling up
to him.
Rúmil’s reply was to hold him tighter, for he never
wanted to let the minstrel go.
********************
“I’ll
see you in three days.” Lindir gave Rúmil a last
kiss before mounting his horse and riding off with the others.
As he vanished from sight, Rúmil felt terribly lonely.
Orophin came up beside him and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.
“Try not to worry.” He said. “Come with us,
we’re going to get something to eat.”
Rúmil allowed Orophin and the twins to lead him away,
even though the last thing he wanted was food. Maybe he could
sleep through the next three days.
**********************
“Greetings
from Imladris.” Lindir smiled, slipping off of his horse.
“I am Lindir, chief minstrel to Lord Elrond. We have come
to assist in your festivities.”
An older man stepped forward, holding out his hand to Lindir.
“Greetings to you.” He replied. “I am Ramiath,
Mayor of this town. We are very grateful for your assistance,
we cannot hold the festival without music!”
Lindir laughed. “It is our pleasure! A pleasant change
from the usual requests of food, medicine and warriors!
Ramiath
laughed too. “Of this I am sure! Now, while your friends
get settled, would you like to see where you will play?”
“Aye, that would be helpful.” Lindir responded.
He turned to the others, telling them he would join them soon,
then left with Ramiath.
The
man led him to an arch made of vines and woven with various
types of foliage. Green leaves and brightly coloured flowers
covered it on both sides, so that the vines were hardly visible.
“We heard that elves value beauty above all else.”
Ramiath said. “We did our best.”
“There are other things we value, “ Lindir replied,
thinking of Rúmil, “But yes, we hold beauty highly.
You have done a wonderful job, I look forward to playing under
it!”
Ramiath smiled.
********************
Lindir
walked towards the building where he and the other minstrels
were to stay. The two warriors had been given slightly smaller
quarters nearby. Thus far, all seemed satisfactory.
He was pleased with the area, sound would carry well and the
flower arch was a delight. Hopefully, the three days away from
Rúmil would not be too painful.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the man coming up
behind him.
He
cried out as he was suddenly grabbed from behind as he neared
the building. He tried to turn but the arms that held him were
too strong. “What is this?” He cried.
“Shut up!” Came the reply, accompanied by a strike
to his head that sent him reeling.
Confused and afraid he tried to fight, but was easily overpowered.
His hands were bound behind him and he was shoved roughly into
the doorway.
He
stared in horror at the sight that greeted him. The five other
musicians were already there, bound, gagged and lying on the
floor.
“What is the meaning of this?” He cried in outrage
as he was shoved towards them.
He pulled himself up as he was thrown to the floor and turned
to look at his captors.
The
men before him were obviously not of the village. They were
rough looking, well built and were well armed, though the bows
were crude and the blades rusty. They were dirty and smelled,
and Lindir wondered why he hadn’t caught the scent before.
But then there were so many smells unusual to him in the village
it was easily missed.
Fear
rose in Lindir’s heart but he fought to control it. Their
guards could not be far, he had to give them time to get here.
“Who are you?” He demanded. “What do you want?”
The largest of the men sneered at him. “I am Helethir.”
He growled. “As to what I want, I would think you’d
have figured it out – they say elves are smart! I want
your blood spilled in revenge for all my men you stinking elves
killed!”
Lindir shook his head. “I do not know what you are talking
about! Our warriors have slain nothing but orcs for months!”
“Aye.” The man growled again. “It’s
been a long wait. “But it’s worth it to take revenge
of you stinking creatures who killed my men in the mountains!”
In
a flash Lindir made the connection. “Sweet Eru!”
He thought. “These are part of the same group that attacked
Rúmil’s patrol!”
“The elves died too, or maybe you failed to notice!”
He spat, careful not to mention the one survivor. “There
is no cause for revenge! At any rate, it was your men who attacked
them!”
“Enough!” Cried the man. He lashed out, striking
Lindir round the head. The force of the blow was such that Lindir
went flying across the room, hitting the back of his head and
crumpling in a heap on the floor.
“Rúmil.” He whispered as consciousness fled.
END
CHAPTER 7
