Languid

Mellow Soulmate AU.  The morning after.  This is an obscure slash pairing, just to say right off the bat.  I doubt it exists anywhere else; the closest I've ever seen is Fëanor x Daeron, and that was only once in a story where Fëanor pretty much has sex with anything on two legs.  Anyway... the redheaded elf is never named, but it should become fairly obvious who he is since he's got burn-scars and two hands.  If not, you need to research the House of Fëanor and the etymology of their many names.  Takes place in the Third Age.  Somewhat introspective.

Disclaimer: characters belong to Tolkien, but I'm pretty sure I own this ship

Pairings: Amras x Daeron

Characters: Daeron, Amras (mentions of Eru and Lúthien)

Warning: extreme AU, slash, canon character death, scarring, clear allusion to sex, kissing and touching (but not especially sexual touching), mentions of insanity

Song: Cloudiness

Words: 715
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languid (adjective): drooping or flagging from or as if from exhaustion; sluggish in character or disposition; lacking force or quickness of movement
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/languid

All the wealth in the whole of the realm of Eä could not have convinced Daeron to move at this moment.

Stretched out in the grass, his body pressed up against that of another.  Shared warmth shuddered through him, heating his chilled bones and chilled heart.  Silently, the bard pushed himself onto his elbows and stroked his fingers through strands of fiery red hair, softer than the finest of silks.  Softer than her hair, from what he could remember.

Pressing it against his cheek, Daeron sighed.  The hot scent of his mate mixed with musky smoke filled his nostrils and left an awakening, churning heat in his gut, but he found himself too tired, too relaxed to pay it much mind.

Instead, his gaze was drawn to his lover's face, relaxed in sleep.  When awake, the redhead looked like a fierce, wild creature.  Scars laced up over the corner of his jaw and across his right cheek, slicing at the bridge of his nose; sharp brows to match his sharp jaw and green eyes that could pierce down to the soul defined his lover.  But while asleep he looked so peaceful.  Not a child's face, but a child's innocence and softness.  Lips were slightly parted, swollen from kisses, and dark eyelashes fluttered on rosy cheeks.  No creases bent his brow.  Even the burns could not detract from the sweet beauty in the pale gray light of dawn.

Daeron's inquisitive fingers followed his line of sight, brushing over temples and tracing the line of eyebrow from front to tail, loving the way it relaxed beneath his caress, any tension in the flesh falling lax and smooth.  He repeated the touch on the other side, and then his fingers trailed down the straight line of the other's nose.

Green eyes fluttered open lazily as he brushed over the raised ridge of scars, half-hooded with fatigue but still burning brighter than any fire, brighter than the stars. "Hm..."

"Good morning," Daeron whispered softly, not ceasing his exploration over sculpted cheeks and ragged burns down to the parted lips.  They were soft against his fingertips.  Unexpected.  A lovely contrast to rugged, twisted flesh and defined bone.

Haziness rested in a veil over those eyes as they looked up at him.  It was as if dreams still clouded his lover's vision. "Good morning to you as well, linya..."  His burning hot fingers trailed aimlessly over Daeron's side, tracing nonsense patterns into his skin until the elf wondered if he had markings to match the melted stretch of scar tissue that marred his lover's right side and back.  It certainly felt as though the touch might have burned away his skin.

The other made to rise from the cool grass, but the bard pushed a hand against his chest, guiding him back down to the earth with a gentle smile. "Do not rise," he whispered, indulging in tracing the dips and valleys between taut, powerful muscles. "Let us rest a while longer."

There was a sigh of assent, and the redhead closed his eyes again, stretched out on the ground like a great cat beneath his owner's petting and coddling.  Fondly, Daeron looked upon him.  Yes, definitely like a great cat.  Lazy and hedonistic, but ever so dangerous, darkness and a predatory nature lurking just beneath the surface, settled into lithe musculature and ligature, into the narrowed edges and icy calculation of fey eyes.

He did not worry about it now, though.  Instead, he leaned over to steal a hot, languid kiss from slack lips, dipping his tongue into the slick warmth and spice beneath.  The passion was for now little more than a soft flame, and he was happy enough to pull away when air became sparse.  Instead, he laid his head against his lover's bare shoulder, eyes fluttering closed against the steady pulse beating just underneath pale skin, just barely visible blue beneath the deceptively fragile membrane.

There was satisfaction and contentment in the closeness and oneness, a hot golden warmth cradling him, hiding him away from the dewy grass and cool morning mist.

No, Eru himself could not have moved him from this spot.  Not now.
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Today was an excellent day for this prompt.  Gray, cloudy and raining.  We actually have flooding here so bad that they shut down the freeway going south because of the water.  Anyway, I got up at 7 AM and by 12 PM I was laying back down for a nap.  Got up at 3 PM and it's only 8 PM in the evening but I still could just lie down and languish.  It's just one of those days.  And a Saturday, so I don't have to do anything today.

Anyway, I was listening to Cloudiness by Yasuharu Takanashi from the Naruto: Blood Prison OST.  You can expect more from Takanashi in the future.  Naruto may not be my favorite anime ever, but it has f-ing good music, if I do say so myself.

PS: linya = my singer in Quenya.  Lindo + nya loses the extra syllable because of the presence of an "nd" consonant group in the original word.  It's obscure Quenya grammar similar to the -en ending in Sindarin used to denote ownership.