Mellow

Marshmallow-y lovey-dovey bs.  Soulmate AU where Lúthien does not become mortal and follow Beren's soul beyond the edges of the world, but instead is reborn and stays with Celegorm, who was her fated.  They live in Middle-earth (east side of the Misty Mountains) and it is now the Third Age.  Mostly introspective piece.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.  They belong to JRR Tolkien

Pairings: Celegorm x Lúthien

Characters: Celegorm and Lúthien (Curufin mentioned)

Warning: AU, some OOC, mushy like the inside of a marshmallow

Song: Yuki no Hana

Words: 649
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mellow (adjective): made gentle by age or experience
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/mellow

If Curufin could see him now, Celegorm just knew his brother would scoff and call him soft.

Celegorm much preferred the term "mellowed with age".

After all, three thousand years in the Halls of the Waiting had a certain way of setting one's priorities straight, and let it not be said that Celegorm did not know what came first in life.  The Silmarilli did not even make the top ten.

His most pressing concern, as always, was the health and happiness of his mate.

All he desired was to see her glorious face lit in a smile, especially a smile directed at him.  He would do anything she wanted, if only she would grace him with her approval and affection.  No longer did he scowl at everyone he met or spit out rude comments whenever it struck his fancy; he had no desire to see a frown mar her perfect, beautiful red lips, so full and lush and...

"Celegorm." The soft call interrupted his thoughts, and the elf shivered from head to toe at the sound, so quiet and ringing in his ears. Even when she spoke, it sounded as though she were out-singing the birds. "Would you fetch me another bucket of water from the well?"

Immediately, he was on his feet, boots soundless on the wooden porch.  He made no reply, but didn't doubt she could see his tall frame moving through the kitchen window.  A few minutes later, he returned with the bucket in hand to find her willowy frame in the doorway, her pale blue dress tugged by the wind, pulled taut to her lithe body and highlighting all of the curves and grooves that Celegorm so adored.  And she was smiling.  His whole body buzzed with warmth.

She kissed him on the cheek as she took the bucket from his hands, and even when she pulled away he could still feel the imprint of her lips upon his flesh. "Thank you, meleth-nín."

Feeling for all the world like an untested elfling, he looked down at his boots, too shy to meet her eyes.  His reaction only made her giggle, and the very sound left him feeling as though he could leap from the ground and fly.

(Never mind that he had tried that once as a child and it had not turned out so well for his arm.)

If only Curufin could see him now...

But somehow, Celegorm found himself not caring for his brother's reaction.  Let Curufin laugh all he bloody wanted.  Celegorm needed only his Nightingale to be happy and nothing else.

Standing on her tiptoes, his sweet Lúthien pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, more of the brush of skin and the sharing of breath than an embrace.  Nevertheless, Celegorm felt a flush deepening in his cheeks as his silver eyes finally dared to meet her pale blue gaze. "Come inside and sit with me," she urged, tugging on his wrist lightly.

He followed like a lovesick puppy.

And that was how he found himself sitting on the floor at her feet, his shoulder draped with her latest knitting project as he whittled away with a small knife and a piece of wood from the massive oak overhanging their tiny house in the mountain foothills.  Never mind that she was a sinda and he was a prince.  Never mind that he was acting like a lovesick fool, panting at her feet like a dog.

Never had he been so content with his lot in life.  Even if he had become soft and gooey like the inside of a pastry.  If it made his Nightingale happy, he would gladly be a weak-willed fool.

Her fingers brushed the top of his head, combing through his silver hair, and Celegorm leaned into the touch, nearly purring with pleasure, like a well-trained pet. 

Mellowed indeed.
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Mushy.  That's all I've got to say.

This is the song I was listening to when I wrote this (would explain the damn mushiness): Yuki no Hana sung by Hayley Westenra (English version)

I blame this picture: Luthien et Celegorm by *Zephyrhant on dA.

It has completely ruined Beren and Lúthien for me.  I now ship Celegorm and Lúthien.  They just look so beautiful together...

And in case you were curious about Celegorm's arm: Every Single Day... by ~greenapplefreak.  For some reason, this has become part of my head-canon.