Obvious

Mellow Soulmate AU.  Celegorm is in love.  Lúthien is not.  At least, not with him.  All names used are Sindarin (because of the POV).  This piece is directly related to "Collide", "Snore", "Reap" and any other pieces with the pairing (I'm just too lazy to list them all, and you could just click the tag if you really wanted to find them anyway).  Look out for major, shameless skewing of canon.  Takes place is the year F.A. 465 somewhere on the Guarded Plain near Nargothrond.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: one-sided Celegorm x Lúthien, Beren x Lúthien

Characters: Lúthien, Celegorm, Curufin (mentions Beren, Thingol, Melian and Sauron)

Warning: extremely AU, non-canon relationship, dysfunctional relationship, comfort sex, mild sexuel content (i.e. kissing and groping), mentions death, war and implied torture

Song: Never Too Late

Words: 1,396
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obvious (adjective): easily discovered, seen or understood
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/obvious?show=0&t=1371065154

Never before had she known such pain existed.  Such agony.  Such torment.

Torment unmeasured that drove her to her knees without drawing blood or tearing muscle.  Inside her chest, it was as if a clawed hand squeezed around her heart and then twisted mercilessly until she choked on wordless sobs of fright and despair.  That so few words, such painfully reasonable logic, could bring her so low...

A hand gripping harsh about her arm.  Holding her back against a broad chest.  Fighting against her feeble struggles.  Keeping her prisoner as surely as her father had done.

"There is no hope for your mortal now.  Beren is beyond your help, or ours."

Yet she clawed at the fingers and shoved at the arms pinning her in place.  Refused to listen to words of condemnation toward her beloved.  She needed to escape.  Time seeped slowly away around her, and she needed...

"Please, I have to go!  He needs me!"

But her captor would not budge.  And in her ears, his voice was more incisive than a blade, cutting deep through her mind.

"You will only get yourself killed.  By the time you reach him, he will be long dead, for the Lieutenant of Angband has little interest in mortal children, and less even in keeping alive one who plans to rob the crown of the Dark Lord his master."

And she was held fast until her body gave out in exhaustion.  Until she was left to weep in the grass on the edge of camp.  Even were there a chance of her escaping and fleeing from the brothers--silver-haired Celegorm and his shadow Curufin--there was naught she could do to help her beloved now, but pray that he had long been beyond the edges of the world and his earthly torments at cruel, wicked hands were over and done.

But why?  Why did it have to end like this?

"I wish that you would cease to cry, my lady."

Startled, red-rimmed about the eyes and blotchy in the face, she wiped at her nose and cheeks with a sleeve and looked upwards into eyes as liquid mithril in the moonlight.  Celegorm's voice was no longer harsh, no longer as adamantine as the metal for which she named his gaze, but very soft, cool dew on the grass in the twilight.

And those eyes looked at her as though she had fallen from the Timeless Halls.  As though she were something amazing to beyond, something immeasurably divine to be worshipped and coveted.  To be loved unconditionally.  Looked at her the way Beren oft did when they sat together in the forest, hidden away from sight to enjoy each other's company.

Just remembering brown eyes filled with that same soulful longing and adoration made her ache thrice worse.  It burned down into her, left her hiccupping with grief.  Left her with a tide of loneliness enough to rend her apart at the seams, for she would never hold her love in her arms again until the End of All Things.  Would never comb her fingers through his dark curls.  Would never kiss him in the dark and pledge her undying love unto his ears.  Would never hear her sentiments echoed fervently in return against her soft lips.

She was so alone.  And so cold.

"H-how can I not weep," she asked hoarsely, "when the man I love will die in the dark, as alone and hopeless as I?  When I sit here and do nothing?  When I can do nothing to help him?"

Rough fingers touched at her cheeks, dabbing away her tears.  He was trying, this beautiful creature of light, to comfort her in her moment of greatest need.  Because he loved her as plain as day, was enraptured by her beauty.  And so easily offered was the warmth of his strong arms and the pillow of his powerful shoulder and the strong beat of his thundering heart beneath her ear.

And she just...

"You are not alone," he whispered, lifting her chin, meeting her eyes.  And he would not have looked away to save his own life in that moment; she had seen before this gaze of enchantment as her father gazed upon her mother. "Please, cry not."

He could not have been more obvious with his affections.  Or more oblivious to her intentions.

But she did not care as she pulled herself against him and closed her eyes, breathed in the male musk of his skin and pretended it was not Celegorm, Prince of the Golodhrim, who held her fast and safe as her tears spilled in mourning for lost love.  Pretended instead that it was her Beren, her rugged and handsome mortal prince.  Pretended that her lover had never been discovered, had never agreed to her father's mad bride-price, had never been forced to risk his life so that they might share love that was destined to be.

And, for his part, Celegorm crooned softly to her in the night and rocked her against him, holding her so gently--like a glass sculpture he was afraid he might break if he applied too much pressure, if he touched her skin with more than the flutter of a butterfly's breakable wings.  It was nice, this way of being touched.  This tenderness innately part of the graceful golodh that she had never beheld in Beren, rough and uncouth as he had been.  The stroke of a hand over her spine, plucking at every bump, sent her to helpless shivers.  And the feeling of fingers threading in her hair and combing tangles away with soft tugs nearly brought her to moaning.

And she should not have closed her eyes and pictured Beren doing these things in Celegorm's stead.  Should not have stifled her tears in a soft tunic and felt heat bloom in her untried body with forbidden, intangible fantasies.  Should not have wanted, because it was wrong.  Beren was dead, or soon to be dead.  He was not coming back.  And he was not here.

It was betrayal in the worst way.  But she was so, so lonely.  So, so lost.  If only she could feel his touch for just a few moments, perhaps she would be able to spend the rest of her long life without him at her side, and without weeping ceaselessly for his loss.

If she and Beren could have this night together...

Her mouth rose from where breaths fluttered over his leaping pulse, and instead found their say to his jaw, to his cheeks, tracing kisses over flesh that should have been whiskered but was smooth against her petal lips.  She moved then, hands on shoulders and thighs loose around hips, slender form wrapped around lithe muscle.  Lips against lips in a chaste embrace.

"M-my lady?  Lúthien?"

"Shhh..." And again.  And if the taste was all wrong, she barely remembered to notice.  Instead, there was the slide of heat flowing beneath her skin.  The comfort of closeness and intimacy.  Of Beren embracing her in his powerful arms, a hand sliding down the curve of her waist and tugging the hem of her gown.  Fingers curling at her nape and tilting her head so their mouths might clash in a fury of passion.  Again and again through deep rumbling moans and sighs of pleasure.

Her eyes flickered open as their flurry of kisses broke, as a hot mouth moved instead to her throat.  And in the hazy darkness she saw other eyes, just as brilliant and molten, but as steel and filled with knowing disgust.  Resting on her with accusation.

Curufin was standing in the shadows, watching them together.  Blinking his eyes slowly.  Meeting her gaze.  Seeing right through her as though she were a pane of glass displaying her thoughts beneath, open and visible.

Letting her know it was not only Celegorm whose intentions were obvious.

But then she was pulled under again, gripping waves of moonlight-turned-hair, moaning beneath the hot tug of his mouth on her arched neck, beneath his warm fingers curling against her thighs and stroking upwards.  And she forgot all about the shadow in the night, black eyes filled with hatred and ash.  She forgot all about everything except ecstasy.  Except Beren.

And when she looked again, the shadow was gone.  And the hair in her hands was dark as night.
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So I got this idea (or rather, got the connection between the idea and the prompt word) from a friend when we were chatting at 12:30 in the morning a few days ago.  I like asking people what their first impressions of my words are to see if I get anything besides the obvious and typical responses (e.g. dawn = pretty colors in the sky = no duh >.>).  Actually, her answer was surprisingly typical in a cliche sort of way, but I like to think that this piece isn't as cliche as it could be.  I mean, it's not even real romance, not yet in any case.

Poor Celegorm.  I'm being very mean to you.  But as for Lúthien, well, I can imagine her being a bit on the selfish side.  Never mind that Daeron wanted to protect her.  Never mind that her parents must be worried sick about her.  Never mind that locking her up to keep her from running off and storming in the enemy fortress (to likely be captured, tortured, raped and murdered) was in her own damn best interest.  She does it anyway.  Because she loves Beren.  I mean, I get it--I really do, love makes people crazy--but just like craziness doesn't excuse the Fëanorions from being responsible for committing horrible crimes, I don't think love should excuse Lúthien from being responsible for her actions either.  She was damn lucky in canon to have survived all the stunts she and Beren pull.

Nevertheless, we should move on now.  Song is Never Too Late by Three Days Grace, one of my absolute favorites by them.  It's one of their lighter songs, as well, but still has their spark (and it fit the mood even though the lyrics don't really match up).  Which is why I like it.  A little bit of variety here and there, but still something intrinsic.  As a musician, it tickles my fancy.  In a music-ish sort of way LOL.