Title: The Need of the Body
Type: Fictional, slash
Author: Andrannath Míírdaneg, andrannath@yahoo.com
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warning: Implied sexual abuse (not rape! I know it might not be quite clear, but to make it sure)
Disclaimer: Would I really spend my time writing about them if I owned them?! Right! I'd be between them every freaking minute!!!
Feedback: Oh, but. certainly!
Beta: Enismirdal, who I love endlessly! Thank you so endlessly much for doing this to me! *lubbs you endlessly*
Timeline: Mostly Third Age
Notes: This was supposed to be a little ficlet dealing with the subject of asexuality, as I have noticed no one really cared about it, only really sexuality. :P This is my attempt at it. Oh, and the thingy GREW!
Summary: Erestor was compelled into his life's decisions by the dreadful things happening in his past. Glorfindel, on the other hand, was born different. What are the problems asexuality and mental issues could bring into a relationship?



~*~*~*~
As a child, I had been... ruined. I had been violated. My body and my soul had been mutilated.

They had thought me different, emotionless. They had thought me grown and capable while I was yet a child. Just a child.

I was eighty when they took me from my parents. I was older than any of them. Older than any Man.

My parents belonged to the travelling company which was on its way to Gondor. And we had been intercepted. I still remember thinking about it, not understanding why anyone would attack us - the news-bringers. Wild spirited women and their youngsters. Their husbands and fathers and a handful of warriors. We were not supposed to be attacked; we presented no threat.

But hopes and prayers are in vain when bad things happen. Our men were killed from a distance. We were ambushed. And I was too young to wield a sword properly. The Men in the black hoods made of rough cotton. They killed whoever they thought was a threat and took the rest captive.

Adar was not with us then. He remained with the group behind us. And when they reached us, many of us were already dead. I doubt he can still forgive himself. Naneth was lucky enough to die. She saved me. I still try to find enough strength every day to say to myself that I forgive her that. I love her.

It was but a month that I had been captive, and it was more than enough. They had had their way with me. For I was not like them, just as orcs are not like them. And they had punished me for every orc attack they suffered. I had been punished for all the sins of the children of my fathers. But they had been careful not to harm me enough to give me my freedom; my death.

By the time we had been rescued, all of us had lost the will to live; well, almost all of us. And now I am alone. The sole survivor of the ancient tragedy whose spirit is far too stubborn to run to Aman like a battered dog.

I will not let them win. I will not let them break my spirit or my heart as they had broken my body. I refuse to fade.

But I was afraid. I still am from time to time.

Since I came to Imladris, my new life started. No one knew but the few dearest ones. Elrond is one. He was always a dearest friend and a help. The hands of the healer would tend my wounds and scars, just as his words would mend my heart. He is still such a help to me. A dear friend.

When I told him of my newfound joy, he smiled, sincerely.

"It is such a joy, my old friend." His words travelled through the air. He was sitting in his study, his elbows on his desk, fingers of both hands entwined in front of his face. A smile on his lips. "Such a joy at last, dearest friend." He stood up and walked towards me.

That was the first time that I did not twitch and run away in fear. Instead, I relaxed in his soothing arms and entwined my hands around him. I love him.

Arwen. Her gentle hands and curious eyes captured my heart. Beautiful Arwen. She was the only one whose sweet embraces did not bring the bitterness and the fear of the past. Her gentle body was the best medicine, as she would sleep peacefully in my embrace. That sweet child was always my escape. And when I think back to it now, the poor beauty was overprotected from my part. I love her.

And Glorfindel.

~*~*~*~

I had always been. different. I cannot explain those emotions. I never could. I do not understand them still. I doubt I shall ever be able to.

Since I was but a child, I was so different from my friends. While they talked about marriage and sang songs of love, I took hold of my father's sword or would enjoy studying or a serious talk. I know far too well how my parents were proud of my accomplishments at first, but started worrying as the time passed by. They worried for me and my health, for I had no wife. I had no need for children or acts of those kinds.

And then the rebellion came. For the first time my sword and my knowledge were found useful. The thought of love and the songs of the heartbreaking bards were not needed, and were considered outmoded. We had to fight for survival, and the games of hearts were not only unwelcome, but also distracting.

Fighting dragons, beasts and foul creatures does not give enough time for reverie. And my strange behaviour had been proven to be the right choice for me, and likely also helpful to the others.

The time passed, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast. My mind was preoccupied with worries for the lives of my friends and cousins. Few were those who had time to start a family. Few were those who had a will to do it.

But my old life ended. On a high cliff with the endless fall between sharp rocks, I had become a dead corpse in the arms of a beast known as Valarauco. His strong hand took hold of my hair and for the first time I cursed the vanity of the Elves. And that is how I died.

But then I had been brought back. Not changed. Not different. I had been brought back as different and confused as I had been created. True, many virtues had been installed in my form, and many new had been taught to me, but never did I remember asking why my heart reacted the wrong way. I never understood why everyone considered me wrong, while in fact I knew no differently.

"Are you well, my love," my second mother had asked. "Are you certain you need no help?"

"Nana, forgive me," I asked, confused. I knew what she had meant; that evening and my dance with a maiden whose name I cannot even recall.

"Shall you not see her? Has she hurt you?" Her words were sincere. She loved me.

How could I have told her that I had no desire? How could a son say to a mother how he had no wish to create a child; an heir?

But in the times of war folk rarely ask themselves about the differences of their friends so, as any help was more than needed, I had been embraced as a friend.

I shall always be grateful to Elrond for being an ear to my words and stories. He was always gentle and kind to me. He was always the one who would help me with any advice, and I always hoped he thought of me the same way. But, to be honest, I knew he did not. He had one much better advisor than I could have ever been.

And Elrond was not of the spirit I usually needed. His sons were. Those boys were all one could ever dream of. They were the children I always wished to have, but knew I could never force myself to make. But I wished for children.

One step at a time, my inner voice would say. And truth be told, I needed a wife first. But I knew I could have none, for I had no will to make one mine. I had neither will nor need. And I always feared I was the only one.

I always feared staying alone simply for not being able to satisfy what I knew had to be satisfied. I knew, no matter my heart and my feelings, I could never urge myself to engage in the pleasures of body, and enjoy it. I could not take a mate knowing that. I could not be that selfish.

~*~*~*~

It was so hard in the beginning. I knew so much about him, Elrond made sure to insinuate enough. But how could I believe him and the words he was saying? How could I believe that there was someone who could understand me?

It was so hard back then. For I knew from the moment I saw him that my heart would belong to him. But I also knew, from the moment adar rescued me, that my body would never belong to anyone. Although I acted as a strong and powerful figure, I was but an eighty year old child begging for someone to end his life. I had to be an adult, but my mind had been lost in those endless nights of them inflicting just enough pain to hurt and yet not to harm. I was begging for release and death. But embracing freedom in that way would mean losing and breaking under the burden of the malice of Men.

That is why I could not believe my heart. I could not believe the Valar would protect me and give me my saviour after they had abandoned me so many years ago. I could not believe there could be someone who could love me, when I had lost the ability to feel the love at such a young age. I could not believe my heart capable of opening up to someone when I was certain that part of me had died, drowning in all that physical pain as well as the one of my spirit as they punished me for my sins.

They are not your sins, a voice in me would oppose. I always had at least two voices fighting in my mind. The other would blame me for everything. It was my fault that we had been attacked, just as it was my own burden for not being able to defend all that I held dear. It was my fault that naneth died that day; I would blame myself for every day that followed. They are not your sins, the other voice would repeat.

And I had no idea which one to listen to. I had no idea what to do. For a part of me that others consider the most beautiful gift of Ilúúvatar had been slowly ripped out of me, never to grow back. A part of me that I knew had the biggest rule over me had been taken away. Though I had been set free, I had nonetheless still remained captive for millennia, for I could not enjoy a simple touch or kiss. I could not enter a room filled with people, at least when I was not in the full control. I could not stand another's touch, unless it was Elrond - who always knew how to approach me and take care of me, or Arwen - who was sweet and delicate enough for me to protect her and wish her by my side.

Even once Celebríían managed to hold me; that was at the Havens, as she begged me to take care of her children and her husband. Oh, I knew her suffering. She had been through a path similar to mine; only she was not strong enough to linger. She had to live in the places without fear. She had to go to the land of dreams and memory to tend to her wounds. I still see the tears upon Elrond's face as I look at him. He loves her endlessly. And he loves their children.

I always wished to have children, but I knew I could have none. For there was no wife for me in this world. There was no love for me. There was only pain and my own guilt under the burden of what others did to me. Malice created a monster out of me and my own reason had a hard time understanding it.

And possibly for the first time I feel worthy enough of any gift to be given to me, for I have learned to love without having to break my walls.

I have love and support without having to cry in the night out of fear that they would find out. I have Elrond and Arwen, and whatever I do, I know, they shall love me equally.

~*~*~*~

I do not remember ever having felt better since the day I entered Imladris. It was not the beauty of her walls or the kindness of her inhabitants. It was not the gentle and soothing hands of her healer nor his children and their endless smiles and songs. It was not the fact that some had put my name in many poems and songs, and I had been their hero.

It was because I felt something different. Maybe for the first time in my life, I felt no one would expect anything from me that I could not give, for all they expected from me was to do my job and keep them safe. And I was willing to do the task.

From the very beginning I had noticed the maidens looking at my form with love and admiration and not lust and want. I noticed the warriors look at me as their teacher and guide, and not a possible step up in their status. I could be myself and I did not need to pretend in front of them.

Elrond is a kind friend. One of the best ones I ever had. He had been there through the malice and the good times, always helpful and always ready to advise. He was one of the few who could smile, or at least pretend to, simply to amuse others and to make them feel better. He was the rare one willing to sacrifice his own sanity just to save a soul.

And his advisor. For many centuries we talked, Erestor and I. Many were the nights that we had spent together in heated debates and wonderful, enlightening talks. And the years he spent running away from me were many.

"Give him time, my friend," Elrond advised. "He is not like the others."

I remember looking at him strangely. I wanted to say that if anyone was different here, it could only be me. No one could be less of an Elf residing in this realm than me.

"He is different, yes." He nodded calmly, closing his eyes. "More delicate." He paused. "More precious."

I took his advice and started to get to know Erestor better. And just like any other Elf willing to speak with me, I wanted to know his soul. For the gifts the Valar had bestowed upon me were enough for me to read someone's intentions.

Erestor was the only one so pure that not even the waters of the Straight Road could compete. I could feel the suffering of his being. He had shed many tears, either for others' malice, or that breaking his own heart. I could read the difference and the purity of his sharp mind, and I loved it.

I soon came to love him. That was so different from my own path. That was not something I could ever have expected of my own heart. Not in that way.

How could I love him? How could I love him and force my will upon him when, in fact, I could not be what he needed? How could I ask that sacrifice of him? How could anyone ask those they love to sacrifice? How could anyone place love as pure as the Song with the selfishness of the most wicked minds?

I could never force myself to speak of any of my desires to anyone, for I could not stand to face my own disease and flaws.

How could I possibly tell him of my love when, in fact, I knew I could never show him all the love I was capable of feeling the way I knew he wanted me to show it?

~*~*~*~

My heart slowly became drawn to him. His sweet smiles and informal words were the last thing I would have ever expected of anyone in my presence. Others feared me. Others were either terrified of me or hated my stillness. I was not normal and that was what they all knew. I was never like them nor could I ever become so.

His sweet smiles would brighten my day and I started feeling the need to spend more and more time with him. His joyous words would lighten my own dark spirit and I slowly started to wish for him to join me in my spare time as often as he could.

I knew that he spent time with Elrond. I knew that Elrond talked to him about me and my differences. I also knew that Elrond would never compromise our trust, so I did not fear that my secrets would be discovered. The beautiful warrior returned to us from Aman was unbelievably stubborn and Elrond had to push him towards me.

I have to say I did not mind. Be it a game of chess or a simple night with a bottle of some good wine, we could always find a reason to talk. Sometimes we would remain quiet, but that silence brought more joy to us than if it were ruined by an empty word. We spoke of everything; we spoke of many things except for those that were strictly personal. He would not dare. I was certain even back then that Elrond had a hand in that also. I did not mind. I felt better having excellent company not terrified by me or watching my every move, saddened by my past.

I needed someone equal and I often felt him to be the one. And that was the time when my heart decided to slowly lean towards him. I did not mind in the beginning, for I would often dream of his gentle hands caressing my hair. Somehow I knew I would not fear him. I could feel him in my arms in a peaceful embrace before we both fell to reverie. He did not scare me. I could feel his lips resting chastely on mine. It did not disgust me. He did not make me ill with fear and worry.

But then my heart started to belong to him. I would give anything for his love, but I knew I had no right. Who was I to ask him to love me? Who was I to ask anyone that? But I would not mind. I would go on. Our hearts can be selfish at times.

I stopped listening to the words he was saying, worried that he would discover my deepest secrets. I knew I could not stand him knowing what had happened all those millennia back. I could not stand him looking at me with the expression my father used to have when in my presence, before he sailed. I could not stand him pitying me and watching me as though I were some porcelain doll.

They did not kill me. Almost. They made me stronger. Almost. They made me scared and different and not what I might have become. They made me ill and defiled and I knew I could never return to normal. I never knew normal, for I had been just a child then; nothing more. I knew nothing more.

And yet my heart belonged to him.

But how could I love him? How could I love him and force my will upon him when, in fact, I could not be what he needed? How could I ask that sacrifice of him? I could never force myself to speak of any of my desires to anyone, for I could not stand to face my own fears and wounds.

How could I possibly tell him of my love when, in fact, I knew I could never show him all the love I was capable of feeling the way I knew he wanted me to show it?

~*~*~*~

Many years passed. Many more since the day I admitted to myself the love I held for him. He would still not let me near, physically or mentally. He was still afraid. But that did not make me afraid for I knew in my heart that that was his way. I was almost as close to him as Elrond and his family and I knew he meant more to me than they did.

He became all I cared for, without sacrificing all the other loves and treats I held dear. He became the one I loved to spend my time with. I loved our evenings and our talks that would go deep into the night. And then we would have to separate solely for the fact that we knew we would be needed the morning after.

I loved our talks and his delicate smiles. They became extremely dear to me, to my eyes and my ears, and I tried everything just to make him smile more. I could not understand why, but every time his teeth would show, I knew that somehow, he would punish himself. He kept insisting on being miserable and I could not decipher why; I could not tell.

He would not let me touch him. He would step back as I stepped towards him. But I could be closer to him than anyone and I kept telling myself that had to mean something, I had to mean something. Yes, the selfishness of the heart in love.

"I know of your feelings," Elrond said, amused. "Yes." He nodded. "You are not the only one capable of reading others. You might be gifted with it, but it is just another skill to be mastered."

I smiled. I panicked slightly for I did not wish for my secrets to be discovered.

"I feel the need to warn you that he is. different." Elrond's piercing gaze looked through me to my very core. "You would take it the wrong way and I could not break his trust." He paused again, sighing. "Please, talk with him."

Elrond's words were encouraging and I knew I had to act. I knew I either had to tell him or stop feeling, for pretending to the one so delicate, lying to him - it was all wrong.

"We need to talk. I beg you." My own mouth produced the words as I tried to step closer to him. He had been sitting at his desk and he jumped out of the chair quickly and started to back away. I could sense one of the most primal fears; one I never knew Elves were capable of feeling. "I would not hurt you," I whispered, "ever."

"I know," was his sole response as he backed even further away, terror in his gaze. He closed his eyes quickly, shaking slightly.

"I love you," I finally managed to say, far too quickly and less romantically than I ever hoped I would.

He shook again. I saw tears forming in his eyes, but I knew that he would never cry. "Do not say that," his mouth finally said. "You cannot say that."

I wanted to weep. I never knew love would be so painful. I never knew my own being would hurt so much feeling him break in front of me. "It is all fairly complicated."

"It is more complicated that you would ever guess," he quickly said and tried to run away from me.

I would not let him. I wanted to hold him in my arms, but the moment my fingers even touched his robes, he screamed in pain and fear. I backed away quickly, but I knew the pain had already been inflicted.

I had hurt him.

~*~*~*~

I always had to hide my body under many folds of velvet and layers of silk. I had to have a shield around me to keep me safe from the outside world. I could not let anyone look at me with want for that reminded me of my past. Of my death and the beginning of my new life. Of this thing that could be called that.

I used to start and turn around in fear even when I had merely brushed against an item of furniture or when a draught caught a lock of my hair. I had a very hard time even sleeping, for I would constantly feel their hands upon me, or their eyes commanding me, or their lips speaking of the things to be inflicted upon me or simply insulting me.

It took me quite some time to get over the most primal of all the fears. I still fail in that task sometimes. Never had anyone healed me as well as the talks with Elrond managed. I used to be completely blank inside. I used to be settled and organised towards others. Too organised. Unnaturally organised. But inside I was blank and half dead.

Elrond noticed it and he slowly reached to my very core and healed me, layer by layer. His healing is a never-ending process and it still manages to fail from time to time. But I have never felt more alive than the time I came to Imladris and Elrond understood my need. He will always be my saviour, no matter the final result. If it weren't for him, I would probably be long dead.

But I had to shield myself from others. Although the nightmares would not torment me as they used to and the fears would not come crawling under my skin during the day, I still had many times when I felt that I needed a mother. Or at least a cocoon to hide in. An egg shell. And the numerous folds and layers of heavy clothes numbing my body from the outside world were just perfect for the task.

As Glorfindel's hands reached towards me, my back touched the wall behind me uncomfortably, as it would feel the floor almost every night. His fingers managed to brush my skin. They managed to touch me. He managed to touch me! I wanted to scream. I did scream and panic and I tried to get away, but there was nowhere to go.

I felt like a wounded animal in a cage. I felt as if my mind had started to abandon me again. My past. My childhood. My sorrow, regrets and pain. My healing ruined once and for all. I was lost. I was dead. I had to be dead, for I could not feel. To feel would mean to exist. To exist would mean to have a past. To have a past would mean to have my past. In my past I was dead; I had to be dead. I had to be.

"Listen to me! I beg you, forgive me! Please!" he yelled frantically, backing away from me. The tears started forming in his eyes but he remained his old calm and dignified self. "I don't want to hurt you, Erestor! Please!"

What did he say? Did he say that he loved me? Were those his words?

"Let me explain, I beg you," he whispered in pain. "And I shall let you be."

~*~*~*~

He finally calmed down and started looking at me with intelligent eyes. For a moment I had been certain he would lose his mind completely. I had been certain he would disappear inside his own world and never come back. I was certain Elrond would have put me to death then. I would have killed myself before he managed to make that decision.

He nodded slightly at my words, gaining his composure and grace. I knew he had to have his space and I did not dare to invade it again. I knew he had to have his loneliness, for only in loneliness he would feel safe. I would not let him feel unsafe again, even if that meant protecting him from afar.

"Can I speak?" I whispered, waiting for him to nod again.

He pulled closer towards the wall and nodded, even more slightly than the previous time. He started to form a foetal position and I knew I had to act fast. I knew I could lose him any moment. I knew I would lose him soon. His hair started to fall over his face. Again, it was a shield of his. A shield from me.

I sighed and decided to speak, no matter what. "I am not. normal." I paused. A long pause. He did not react. "I never felt any urges or needs." It felt extremely painful to speak of the things that kept me confused all my life. All my lives. "I could not."

His body crumbled into a little ball covered in many black layers. I could not see him under the precious fabrics.

"I could never." I paused again, not being able to form words. "I mean. I love you. I could love you even more. I do not question my heart. But I have never had any needs." I sighed, wishing to have him sane enough to understand. "I could never go through the proper wedding ceremony. Do you understand?"

The long black silk of his hair that covered his face danced through the air in the manner I knew meant agreement. He understood.

For a moment I was certain that he would regain his dignity, but he fell back down. So much pain. So much fear. "Erestor." I whispered, extending my arms towards him again. I did not dare to move towards him again. "Do you want me to leave?" My voice was shaking.

The curtain of black silk over his face danced through the air again, showing me the same meaning. He nodded.

I left.

~*~*~*~

"I have to speak," I said upon entering his chamber. I had finally managed to calm myself the previous day and I even managed to sleep. The following morning I knew what I had to do.

He simply looked at me but did not dare to move. I knew he felt intimidated by my change from the terrified animal I had been the day before to my old composed self.

"Would you listen?" I asked.

He nodded.

I remained still, afraid to move. I had to maintain my composure, although the words I knew were about to be spoken were going to hurt more than I could ever prepare myself for. "Forgive me," I sighed shakily and felt him opening up towards me. "There are some things I feel obliged to share."

"You do not need to!" he interrupted me. "Please, do not feel obliged to."

"Please!" I interrupted him this time, raising my hand. "Let me speak." I sighed.

He nodded, chiding himself visibly for his behaviour.

"Do not be afraid. I am fine." I paused, observing him. I would not speak unless he felt ready for my words. "There are many things in my life that not many know. I know you know nothing of my past. But I have to tell you." He closed his eyes and I felt the urge to close mine, but I knew I had to remain cool and as stable as possible. "I wish to tell you."

He inhaled rather shakily. He wanted to remain as invisible as possible whilst I spoke.

And so I spoke. I told him of naneth and her death. I told him of adar and his slow fading. I told him how he remained as long as he could have to keep me safe. But he had to sail. I told him of my captivity and the things that were done to me. I told him of my life and the newfound strength awoken in me by Elrond. I told him of my spirit and my needs and all the fears that came to exist in that short moment in time in which they had taken one life to turn it into a toy. And what hurt me the most was the coldness of my own voice as I was speaking.

I opened my eyes to see him so painfully still and calm. For a moment I regretted saying what I had said, for he obviously did not care; he did not show it.

"You have to understand me and all my fears," I said, feeling the tears form in my eyes. I would not let them fall. I would not give him the satisfaction of breaking me. "You have to understand me and who I really am." In spite his coldness, I wanted to run towards him and have him in my arms. But I knew I could not, simply because I knew it would hurt too much for me to feel. It would hurt too much for me to touch the one I loved. It would hurt too much not to be as numb as I was.

I knew many new sessions and talks with Elrond would be needed for my most horrible fears to be overcome. I knew I had to heal enough to let the one who had been chosen by my heart to rest freely by my body.

But I also knew that I could never bestow myself upon him and ask the chastity of his body simply because I knew I could not be changed in this life. I knew there were some things that could not be healed.

My own body was one of them. And the acts my body was able to do. I could not deny him that.

"You cannot love me," I said, wanting to leave through the door. "Simply because you cannot have me." My hand moved towards the knob and I wanted to stop and turn around. I did not.

"I never wished to have you," the gentle voice behind me spoke. "I cannot have you for I do not want you. Not because I do not love you, but because that is who I am."

My hand twitched and gripped the doorknob painfully hard. I knew there would be some scars left the following day. The tears started running down my cheeks freely and my forehead met the dark, red polish of the wooden door.

~*~*~*~

My lover is dear to me. My lover is everything to me. My lover is the one who I touch when he allows me to and who I feel by my side when he feels brave enough.

My lover is the one who I love endlessly. He is the one who had promised himself to me, as I have promised my eternal love to his blessed soul. My lover is a part of me and we are one in eternity.

My lover is the Elf lying in our bed, next to me. He is the one who became brave enough to allow me to join him in his bed. Our bed. He allowed me to lie by him and look at him sleep. He allowed me to touch his hand or brush my fingers over his temples or lips.

My lover is so dear to me that even the sight of him passing down the hallway is enough for me to feel joy of endlessness.

My lover is everything to me. He is the one who forced a slight smile as my fingers moved down his beautiful, black, silky hair. He chuckled as my fingers placed the incompliant tress behind his ear. He smiled at me walking barely - dressed through our room. It used to be his room, but it is ours now. It is our sanctuary.

Our room is the place where he runs when he feels like hiding from the world. Our room is the only place, he told me, where his memories don't torture him. To my greatest joy, he confessed to me how the torment stops every time he feels my touch.

Our room is our haven and we run to it when we feel in need of each other's company. When I am done with the training, I run to the bath to wait for him, unspoilt and clean. I clean myself to be perfect for him. For I love him.

Our room is the place my lover comes to, dignified and royal until the doors are shut. Then he smiles at me and takes off his heavy cloaks to join me in a game of chess or a simple talk.

My lover is the one who touches my hand gently, while I am holding a brush and going through his long silky tresses, trying to untangle them as well as I can. He smiles at me as our eyes meet in the mirror and he sends a kiss to me that way. He kisses his fingers and places them on the mirror where he sees my face to be. And I know it simply because his fingers touch the glass slightly above his head. I know he loves me. I know he loves me almost as much as I love him.

My lover is my lover, the one whom I hug gently when he tells me he feels ready for it. I can feel his beautiful body under the robes and I care not how he looks naked or aroused. I do not care of my own needs, but my love for him would compel me into satisfying him if he asked it of me. He does not ask.

His silky skin brushes my own as he runs into my embrace and our cheeks touch. His soft lips join with mine when he feels safe enough and we share the moment as only lovers do.

My lover is my love and he is all I could ever dream of. He holds my hand and looks me in the eyes if his fears allow him to. Maybe someday he might not need to question everything so many times, but I am willing to wait.

My lover is the sweet Elf lying next to me. His face rests on my chest in sweet reverie. His breathing is shallow and his lips are open just slightly enough for them to slowly but steadily wet my sleeping shirt.

My lover is the calm Elf with the perfect face who I am looking at right now. My lips leave a gentle kiss on his silky hair and I thank the Valar for making me who I am. For if I were any other, I would not have him. I would not love him. For I need to love, but I do not need to have him that way. He is his own, and he will never belong to me.

My lover is the beautiful Elf whose hands rest over and under me and his fingers twitch in the rhythm of his dreams and gently tease and tickle the skin of my back.

My lover is the one whom I cannot stop looking at.

I put my arm around his waist so slowly, fearing that I might wake him. He does not wake. He moves his body even closer to me and I kiss his hair and forehead one more time.

My lover is my lover and I look at him once more, memorizing his perfection just in case I do not wake up in the morning.

And then I close my eyes and dream of my lover and our perfect life.

~*~*~*~

Sindarin translations:

Adar - Father

Naneth - Mother

Quenya translations:

Valarauco - Demon of Might (Sindarin: Balrog)