Grateful

Mellow Soulmate AU?  Orodreth's concern leads to a confrontation that has unexpected consequences for the aspiring healer.  No Quenya names to be found.  In fact, Orodreth is never actually named.  And, more slash.  I couldn't help myself.  Not at all.  I blame "Health" for this. It just happened and was so tempting and I couldn't resist and I have everything planned out all the way up to Lord of the Rings because I'm such an obsessive Tolkienist.  LOL.  Takes place in Menegroth in the First Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: (currently one-sided) Beleg x Orodreth

Characters: Beleg, Orodreth (mentions Celeborn, Eru, the Valar and Ulmo in particular)

Warning: rather AU, pre-slash, painkillers (think morphine), lack of inhibitions, crude language and vaguely sexual content, violence

Song: Howl's Moving Castle Theme

Words: 951
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grateful (adjective): appreciative of benefits received; expressing gratitude
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/grateful

Whatever painkillers those crazy healers had him on really had Beleg walking on air.  Or something like that.  Everything was a bit fuzzy.  And his tongue was very loose.

To be honest, he was having a terrible bit of trouble remembering exactly what had happened to get him locked into this horrendous white-walled prison yet again.  All he knew was that his side really smarted and that he was absolutely bored out of his mind with nothing but lazy sunshine and a bare ceiling to keep him company.  Just staring all day.  And more staring.

But today had been different.  His intimate silent acquaintance with afternoon sunlight had been interrupted by the sound of the door opening.  The creak of wood caught his stray attention, and Beleg had scowled fitfully at the newcomer.  He did not want to be babied by any more healers today.

Except the silver vision that stepped through the doorway was no healer.

In fact, Beleg hadn't recognized the stranger in the least.  But he hadn't needed to.  Because he could have sworn, woozy and drugged though he might have been, that a vala in the flesh had just entered his lonesome abode, dressed in gentle grays with waves of silver hair spilling around a face that could have made Eru himself weep with envy.

Eyes blinked at him from beneath thick, dark lashes, and Beleg's mind could focus only on their color, the deep swirling gray and aqua of writhing ocean waters.  Dancing entrancingly before him in a dizzying, ethereal phantom of a daydream.  Drowning him down into their gently rocking depths.

And, of course, he had been drugged.

In retrospect, that was probably why the entire meeting went so poorly.

The angel sat at his bedside, and Beleg grinned broadly at a surprised, somewhat put-out face. "What brings you to see poor, unfortunate me, gorgeous?"

Valar, he had sounded like an oily flirt...

But then a flush had filled those sculpted cheeks, and damask lips pursed into a thin line. "I saw you returning earlier, wounded with one foot in the grave.  Prince Celeborn assured me of your continued health, Beleg Cúthalion, but I was determined to see for myself that you were in one piece.  I see that my concern was quite unwarranted."

"Don't be that way..." He had tried to sit up then, and nearly taken a tumble right out of his bed and into the stranger's lap.  Which he wouldn't have minded at the time.  Not in the least. "But if you want to kiss it better, I won't object..." He offered his most charming, crooked smirk.

A twitch of a slender brow was in his peripheral.  He felt hands push down on his shoulders, forcing his head back down onto the mountain of marshmallows--pillows--clouds--

"I think not.  If you are healed enough to act like a scandalous rogue, you hardly need more attention.  Good evening to you, Cúthalion."

The silver vision had risen to leave, and it was sheer luck and thousands of years of innate dexterity that allowed him to capture a wispy sleeve despite his world turning upside down at the fast movement and keep his new companion temporarily imprisoned at his bedside. "Don't leave yet..." he purred, pulling weakly at the garment, prideful that such wondrous eyes rested upon his face for even a moment. "I am grateful for you attentions, my dove."

Those eyes narrowed, and a firm tug freed the flighty dream from his grasp.  But despite the irate frown and lowered brows, a flush built its way upwards, layers of silken rose petals upon skin, only further complimenting the creature who would from that moment forward haunt Beleg's sleep as a teasing, seductive ghost of a memory. "Such insinuations are uncouth and uncalled for, Cúthalion.  I am not and never will be your dove.  You should be grateful that I do not wring your neck for such presumptuous slandering."

At the time, he remembered thinking that he wouldn't have minded if those hands wrapped around his neck.  Or if those lips wrapped around his cock.

And when he told his lovely vision so, the fury swirling in the violent depths of ocean eyes overflowed as the wrath of Ulmo brought upon the unsuspecting warrior's head.  Shortly thereafter, there was a shock of pain on his skull and the world seeped down into black.

No, that first meeting had not gone well in the least.

But looking back on it, he was grateful for the concern over his health, considering he had no close relatives.  And brothers of blood and bow could only take their worry so far to the edge of hypocrisy when they put their lives on the line each day.  It was novel, having such a beautiful stranger thinking of his well-being without even ever having met him in the flesh.  It was stirring.  And terribly attractive.

And he had gone and ruined it right from the beginning.  Thrice-cursed painkillers.

But Beleg Cúthalion had never been a man to surrender to failure without a battle of wills.  His courtship of the silver stranger would be no different.  And the kiss of soft lips and the scent of ocean upon his tongue awaited him at the end of his quest.

The drugged marchwarden licked his lips and sighed up at the white ceiling.  Perhaps this stay in the infirmary would not be quite as painful as those before.  For the phantom of flushed cheeks and scandalized overtones haunted his waking moments and filled him with anticipation.  And when he slept in the sunshine, molten mithril and cool water surrounded him in his dreams.
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So yes, the birth of yet another slash pairing.  It's not my fault.  Mostly.  If Tolkien had given Orodreth a wife, or hinted that he actually had one and not just a spontaneous lovechild who appeared out of nowhere, then this wouldn't have happened.  But it did.  And it worked out perfectly.  I mean, I like het just as much as I like slash, but I don't feel like creating another OFC.  The ones that I have created had a lot of work put into them; they can't just be created on a whim.  Besides, Teldanno is marrying a woman, so Orodreth can have a guy.  And there will probably be m!preg.  I'm hopeless.

*cough* Anyway... Listening to Kyle Landry's half-improvised piano solo of Howl's Moving Castle Theme.  Honestly, I hated the movie.  Watched it once and couldn't stand it at all.  It was probably because I didn't watch it until I was in high school, and by then I hit my Hellsing phase.  But the music is lovely; even I must admit that about many of the classics.  And this rendition of it is interesting and entertaining to watch. So watch.

This made me giggle: Turin and Beleg by ~M-azuma on dA.  Poor Turin.  Don't worry, you'll get bigger eventually. (Though, I still hate you for killing Beleg, even if it was an accident >.>).