Belong

Mellow Soulmate AU.  Sometimes it isn't about fitting into the group, but about fitting in with the right person.  No Quenya to be found.  This is part of the Cheat arc, particularly the Catatonic and Shame sub-arcs.  It is, however, a continuation of the idea begun by a certain random+anon's comment on one of my stories that led to the birth of "Starve".  Of course, I thought about not making it romantic, but I'm a bit romantic at heart anyway.  Takes place in Mirkwood in the Third Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion, the Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or any other Tolkien-related works, but Valthoron is mine

Pairings: Valthoron x Tauriel

Characters: Valthoron, Tauriel (mentions random wood-elves, Oropher and Thranduil)

Warning: non-canon compliant, OMC warning, movie-verse character, cultural/racial differences, prejudice/ discrimination, references to past murder/non-con/violence, Spirit of Fire references, slight sexual undertone

Song: Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major BWV 1050 - 2. Affettuoso

Words: 1,165
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belong (verb): to be suitable, appropriate, or advantageous; to be the property of a person or thing; to be attached or bound by birth, allegiance, or dependency; to be an attribute, part, adjunct, or function of a person or thing
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/belong 

Standing on the outside, toeing the threshold to the inner sanctum of acceptance, was an affliction one grew accustomed to.  Slowly and painfully.

But it was an affliction to which Valthoron had long ago adapted.  No longer did his heart feel leaden each time wary glances were cast toward his towering height, broad build and strange, exotic face.  No longer did he wince in shame whenever glares strayed toward the wild array of vibrant curls that steadfastly refused to be tamed into a braid to hide his birthright and curse.

He was not of the Golodhrim or of the Sindar or of the Silvani and Avari.  If anything, he was the product of all their greatest faults shoved and mixed together into something strange and searing upon the tongue.  Something that made noses wrinkle in vague disgust at the flavor and the scent and the sight.

Thus had always been the way of his life.  He was avoided.  Like a disease.

He was not at all used to being dragged around by his wrists, forced into shooting contents right and left and coerced into drinking games with the guards in the cellars.  All of those experiences were novel, concepts he had never before even entertained, for the gentle and wild wood-elves with their bizarrely conservative and intuitive ways typically stayed far from the burning touch of his presence.  As wood was prone to flinching back from the flame that might eat it alive if given the chance.

But Tauriel seemed immune to the lick of red that usually blistered all those too near.  Was somehow able to look past the blatant mark when even Valthoron could not do so.

She did not even seem to realize it.  But her regard and kindness meant much more to him than any inclusion in silly games that ended with everyone rolling drunkenly upon the floor in a stupor or than the competitive snarls and barbs hurled back and forth between toothily grinning archers.  More than the camaraderie and friendship newly experienced from all sides.

Certainly, inclusion was nice.  But it had never been Valthoron's way.  And though the simple folk and the commoners had seemed to come to accept his presence amongst them as a fellow, he knew that he did not belong within their ranks.

After all, he was no wood-elf.  And the ways of his hot blood and vengeful spirit were not their ways, cool as the starlight in the black of night running its fingers over a rippling stream's curves and dips.  They lived in the moment and did not brood in the past or stare toward the distant future in dark hunger, but took pleasure in the world and each other...

"Why do you sit here alone, my prince?"

A wry smile came upon his lips as he looked upon her, Tauriel.  Her tiny frown was enchanting, and he could not help but notice the little crease that formed between her slender brows whenever she was vexed.

"I thought we were past formalities, Captain."

Her annoyed, scathing look was gift enough to make his day. "Of course, Valthoron.  Why are you sitting out here alone like a recluse?  They have just opened a new barrel of Dorwinion indoors; you are free to join us in revelry."

I do not belong in there.

"I am content here, and I feel no need to make myself into a drunken laughingstock."

She huffed, but, rather than stalking off, she plopped down in the grass beside him, so close that he could feel the heat of her body radiating upon his skin through his clothes.  Her burnished hair was flicked over one shoulder, and her sweet scent clouded his world for a moment in dizzying incense.  He came to his senses barely quickly enough to catch her softly-spoken words in the twilight, half-sullen and half-worried. "I thought you would be happy.  They even asked after you."

He knew was she was trying to do, but she needn't take it upon herself to try to fix a millennia-old problem that was not her own.  Though he daren't say it aloud, having her beside him was far more comfortable than speaking to those who once had stared at him in blatant fear and unthinking disgust simply because he did not look the same or move the same or act the same as did they.  Her presence was far more reassuring and satisfying. After all, she was the lifeline, the one who had held out her hand first in good faith, transcending the innate prejudice.  Her hand that he grasped with all his might and clung upon.

"I like the quiet and the stars."  And having you sitting beside me.  I need nothing more than that.

Perceptively, her green eyes narrowed. "It is a strange mood you are in, Valthoron..."

Strange because I think I might be in love with you?  Longing was deep-set in his bones--to tell her or to kiss her--so fetching was her image with the glisten of Ithil and the dew of Telperion.  Strange because your regard means more to me than anything?

Belatedly, he felt her move closer.  Felt her hand touch at his wrist so softly in silent questioning to bring his eyes back to the moment, just a flutter of feather upon the nerves drawing him forth.  But there in a way no one ever had been before.  Not like his distant grandfather or his fragile father or the guards who squeezed his shoulders and shoved playfully in sparring.

Different.  But a different that felt right.  That belonged for the first time.

Reaching out without thought, he entwined their fingers and squeezed gently.  Her eyes were startled and widened at his sudden touch--at how his thumb carefully traced the tendons of her graceful hand in lenitive circles--but she did not pull away from the simple embrace.  Instead tightened her fingers about his own and released a sigh.

That felt so right.

"Stay with me," he whispered. "We can watch the stars."

Part of him feared that she would withdraw then.  Pull away the hand he cradled within his own and sneer down her nose.  For none could wound him in the way of actions or words anymore except her.  Tauriel could have rent him apart with ease, with catastrophic efficiency bordering on cruelty.

But her lashes lowered instead, and her smaller form pressed against his side, hair spilling in a silken fall over his shoulder.  Burning warmth soaking into his being as she settled into the curve of his body, fitting them together naturally.

Contentment washed over him.  Rose up in his throat and choked with unspoken emotion.

This was exactly where he belonged.  Nowhere else but at her side.
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Right, so the idea came to me this morning while I was trying very hard not to think about physics and enjoy my pitiful Friday morning until I was set loose for the weekend to do chemsitry homework and attempt to understand 2D objects in motion.  Suffice to say, I'm already rather tired.  Nevertheless, I liked this cute little blurb.  It doesn't feel too rushed, though I imagine there are a few episodes between "Belong" and "Starve" (such contradictory titles), perhaps in which Tauriel learns more about Valthoron?  Who knows?

Anyway, the song is Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major - 2. Affettuoso by J.S.Bach.  Of course, almost everyone has heard of it, if not heard the first and third movements already.  However, the second movement isn't even half as well-known despite how lovely it is.  And, as we had a colloquium on campus today in which the entire Concerto was played, I thought I'd put in my two cents of appreciation and appreciate the lesser-appreciated movement first.

Besides, most people would agree that it has a lovely quality about it.  Just floating somewhere between major and minor all the time, not really happy or sad but more contemplative (in my opinion).  And so... yeah... that's just how it went.

Hope you liked.