Union

Mellow Soulmate AU.  The marriage of Beleg Cúthalion and Orodreth Finarfinion.  Quenya names used for Orodreth, so he's called Artaresto.  Also, Finrod = Findaráto, Finarfin = Arafinwë, Turgon = Turukáno and Maglor = Kanafinwë.  I've had this scene in my head for a while now and I'm not really satisfied with this version, but it will have to do for now.  Maybe I shall edit it later.  Continuation of "Grateful" and "Decent".  Takes place in Menegroth in the First Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: Beleg x Orodreth

Characters: Orodreth, Beleg (mentions Finrod, Turgon, Maglor, Finarfin, Amarië, Elenwë and an OFC from other pieces)

Warning: rather AU, slash, non-explicit sex, kind of fluffy?, theories about the joining of souls and elven marriage, mentions death

Song: Never Forget

Words: 1,033
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union (noun): an act or instance of uniting or joining two or more things into one; a uniting in marriage; also: sexual intercourse; the growing together of severed parts; a unified condition: combination, junction
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/union

Sundering was always difficult.

Many times in the past, Artaresto had been privy to its monstrously devastating effects.  He had seen it in Findaráto when the eldest son of Arafinwë spoke of his beloved across the sea, the longing so potent it ached and burned as a physical wound.  He had seen it in Turukáno after his wife fell prey to the vicious tides and jagged ice of Helcaraxë, had seen how it scarred so deep that the wounds could never be healed.  He had even seen it in his cousin Kanafinwë, whose eyes were distant and sad when they were not veiled in protective ice, because his wife was far across those waves, and he would probably never hold her hand or kiss her cheek again with the oath hanging over his head.

But he had never experienced anything like it himself.  Sundering of fathers and sons was nothing like sundering of two parts of one whole.

And he understood that now.

Because the desperate and disappointed gleam of hazel eyes as they looked at him from beneath a mane of dripping silver hair struck him more fiercely than any physical blow or mocking taunt ever could.  Beleg stood with him in the rain, and Artaresto did not care that he was soaked to the bone and shivering, did not care about anything but the tremble of his other's hands as they reached out towards him in denial.

"I am leaving on the morrow," he whispered, voice oddly choked.  The hands froze mere inches from flesh, but did not dare touch. "I... I am sorry..."

There was a deep, shuddering breath, and Beleg's chest heaved, muscle rippling beneath the clinging fabric stuck to flesh. "You've naught to be sorry for," he finally replied, voice raw and low, barely audible beneath the sound of droplets in the trees. "But you know I cannot go with you."

And Artaresto's heart stuttered, because he did know.  Beleg Cúthalion was a warrior of Doriath, pledged to the service of their king, and he could not forsake his duties for the favors of a Noldorin healer.  Artaresto had known all along that they would never be able to stay together, live together as lovers in peace.

But still he could not resist falling for this pig-headed warrior's charm.

"You can," he whispered, and the healer took the hand hovering over his cheek, nuzzled into the rough palm and breathed deeply of freshly-fallen rain and something intrinsically his One.

The other hand cupped his nape tenderly, squeezing with hesitation. "Do you even know what you're saying, my dove?"

"Of course I do." Where he found the strength and the daring to press a kiss against parted, shocked lips, the inexperienced healer did not know, but he stood upon tip-toes and discovered that Beleg's lips were quite soft and pliant.

At least, until they kissed back, easily parting his own, consuming the soft moan that rose in reply.  And Artaresto, for his part, found himself reaching upwards to grasp at powerful shoulders, lost beneath a tide of heady taste and searing touch and vibrant sensation, eyelashes fluttering closed to the patter of raindrops on heated cheeks.

They did not remain standing for long, and it was cold and wet on the ground, but he barely noticed for the sudden fire moving as a wild creature beneath blood-flushed skin.  Nothing but Beleg could capture his attention.  Nothing but shockingly gentle caresses stroking downwards and soothing warmth burning into his muscles and the frightening, joyous thought of sacred joining that had his fingers scrambling across hard shoulders and flanks, that had his toes curling into the grass when they came together.

Until there was nothing left but him and his other half in the whole world.  Two as one.

---

There was sunshine when Artaresto awoke.  The darkness of night had passed, and the storm that had christened their hasty joining was gone as a phantom, leaving behind the dew dripping down from the cups of leaves and the songs of birds in the fresh air.

They were entwined, pressed together, skin to skin, and the healer sighed.  If he could have stayed here forever, he would have been happy to be naught but a Sindarin healer with no noble heritage and no royal duties, but he was a Noldorin prince, and as Beleg could not throw aside his oaths and responsibilities, neither could Artaresto.  And thus he squirmed out of powerful arms, untangling their limbs and the sodden blankets of silver hair until their bodies were two again.

But that did not stop him from pressing a faint kiss to his lover's brow and lips, smiling affectionately at how his warrior leaned into the touches and mumbled low in rest, arms reaching for the other half of their union.

The healer slipped into his wet robes, stained with grass and dirt, and left his lover beneath the shade of the trees.  No goodbye would be necessary, and he would not offer one.

Because they were not truly sundering.  Even at this moment, Artaresto felt the heated glow within him, the warmth and comfort of Beleg's presence stretching and purring just beneath the membrane of his skin.  He was not alone.

They were as one.  A union of two souls and two spirits.  And Artaresto was never going to be alone again.  Beleg Cúthalion would always be there with him, and he with Beleg.  Even if they never laid eyes upon the other again.  Even if they never shared in the intimacy of closeness or the warmth of a physical embrace.

Artaresto did not look back.

And when Beleg awoke alone and naked in the late morning, he needed only close his eyes to feel the touch of cool lips on his skin and hear a hushed voice murmuring words of doting love in his ear.  Nearly purring in contentment, he rolled onto his belly and dozed into the afternoon with his silvered dream at his side.
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I am rather attached to this pairing.  Well, okay, I get attached to all of my pairings, but this one has a whole storyline just waiting to unfold before it, considering the whole issue with Túrin and how he becomes involved in the lives of both of these characters (and their lovechild *cough*).  I'm looking forward to writing more once finals are done.  Then I can think without worrying about studying.

Listening to Kyle Landry's probably half-improvised arrangement of Never Forget from the Halo 3 OST.  Not a big fan of the games, but holy sh*t you need to listen to this song because it is absolutely glorious and it made me cry.  Quite the accomplishment, because there's only a handful of songs that have ever moved me to tears.  And once again Kyle's piano playing is beautiful and I wish I could write this scene so it does the music justice but it's just so complex and deep.

Well, anyway, I have to be on my way.  Tests to take, etc...