tuxedo_elf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tuxedo_elf) wrote2006-07-22 04:17 pm
tuxedo_elf) wrote2006-07-22 04:17 pm
Entry tags:
50 Passages Ficlet (48, Claim 1)
Title: Sometimes when it Rains
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Characters: Rúmil, Lindir
Prompt: 048 - All right, but there’s room enough for two.
Word Count: 669
Rating: PG
Summary: Rúmil and Lindir make their way from Imladris to Lorien.
Some days, Rúmil deeply regretted his choice of career. There were times when the very mention of the word 'duty' was enough to make him want to run for the hills and never look back.
Currently, it was raining so much that Rúmil was quite sure there was an inch of water in his boots. Given that he was on horseback, this was quite a feat on the part of the weather. He wrinkled his nose - this was why he disliked open spaces. While it was useful for spotting potential trouble, it also left you at the mercy of the elements.
Glancing over at his companion, Rúmil saw that he looked even more wretched. Well, it was to be expected really. Lindir was a minstrel, not a warrior, and was unused to such harsh living.
Making a decision, Rúmil called to him, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the incessant rain. “We must stop! We cannot travel in this!” Though he wanted to get home, he was charged with Lindir’s safety and wellbeing and he would ensure they were maintained before seeing to his own wishes.
Looking deeply relieved, Lindir nodded. “Where shall we go?” he replied, pushing a soaked strand of hair from his eyes.
“Follow me,” Rúmil said, turning his horse around and leading them off to the right. It was not a significant detour and they would soon make up time the following day. Before long they reached what looked like no more than a pile of rocks. Yet Rúmil knew that there was a small gap in the centre and an outcrop that was just enough to provide shelter.
Dismounting, he tethered both horses lightly to a pointed rock that was covered in moss. That would be ample feed for them and since they did not seem to mind the rain half as much as the Elves, he did not have to feel guilty about leaving them out.
As he watched, Lindir dismounted and approached him. Grabbing his pack, he led the minstrel into the tiny hole - not even large enough to be called a cave.
“It is not much,” he said, “but it is only one night and will keep the rain from our heads.” He looked apologetically at the young minstrel – Lindir was to be an honoured guest of the Lord and Lady and he had hoped for a much smoother journey.
“It will serve,” Lindir agreed, smiling gratefully at Rúmil as he eased himself into the shelter. Once they were in, Rúmil pulled a leaf-wrapped parcel of lembas from his pack, breaking it in half and offering some to Lindir. There was miruvor too and after the simple meal both Elves were in much better spirits.
Shortly after, Lindir started to yawn and Rúmil pulled a blanket from his pack. “Here,” he said, “get some rest. We are going nowhere tonight.”
Lindir took the blanket and looked at Rúmil, whose back was wedged against the rocky wall. It did not take much to realise that Rúmil planned to stay like that all night, devoid of comfort. The minstrel was unimpressed.
“All right, but there's room enough for two,” he said, lying down and offering half the blanket to Rúmil, along with a glare that would have put the Lady Galadriel to shame.
And as with Galadriel, Rúmil was powerless to resist - nor did he really want to. Carefully he crawled under the blanket, near to Lindir. The minstrel smiled approvingly, then to Rúmil's utter shock, gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled, before sleep stole him away.
“Goodnight,” Rúmil replied, wonder and confusion in his voice as he stared at the slumbering minstrel.
It wasn't long before he began to smile and curled up under the shared blanket, more warm and content than he’d ever thought he could be in such conditions.
Some days, Rúmil deeply regretted his choice of career.
Today certainly wasn't one of them.
END
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Characters: Rúmil, Lindir
Prompt: 048 - All right, but there’s room enough for two.
Word Count: 669
Rating: PG
Summary: Rúmil and Lindir make their way from Imladris to Lorien.
Some days, Rúmil deeply regretted his choice of career. There were times when the very mention of the word 'duty' was enough to make him want to run for the hills and never look back.
Currently, it was raining so much that Rúmil was quite sure there was an inch of water in his boots. Given that he was on horseback, this was quite a feat on the part of the weather. He wrinkled his nose - this was why he disliked open spaces. While it was useful for spotting potential trouble, it also left you at the mercy of the elements.
Glancing over at his companion, Rúmil saw that he looked even more wretched. Well, it was to be expected really. Lindir was a minstrel, not a warrior, and was unused to such harsh living.
Making a decision, Rúmil called to him, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the incessant rain. “We must stop! We cannot travel in this!” Though he wanted to get home, he was charged with Lindir’s safety and wellbeing and he would ensure they were maintained before seeing to his own wishes.
Looking deeply relieved, Lindir nodded. “Where shall we go?” he replied, pushing a soaked strand of hair from his eyes.
“Follow me,” Rúmil said, turning his horse around and leading them off to the right. It was not a significant detour and they would soon make up time the following day. Before long they reached what looked like no more than a pile of rocks. Yet Rúmil knew that there was a small gap in the centre and an outcrop that was just enough to provide shelter.
Dismounting, he tethered both horses lightly to a pointed rock that was covered in moss. That would be ample feed for them and since they did not seem to mind the rain half as much as the Elves, he did not have to feel guilty about leaving them out.
As he watched, Lindir dismounted and approached him. Grabbing his pack, he led the minstrel into the tiny hole - not even large enough to be called a cave.
“It is not much,” he said, “but it is only one night and will keep the rain from our heads.” He looked apologetically at the young minstrel – Lindir was to be an honoured guest of the Lord and Lady and he had hoped for a much smoother journey.
“It will serve,” Lindir agreed, smiling gratefully at Rúmil as he eased himself into the shelter. Once they were in, Rúmil pulled a leaf-wrapped parcel of lembas from his pack, breaking it in half and offering some to Lindir. There was miruvor too and after the simple meal both Elves were in much better spirits.
Shortly after, Lindir started to yawn and Rúmil pulled a blanket from his pack. “Here,” he said, “get some rest. We are going nowhere tonight.”
Lindir took the blanket and looked at Rúmil, whose back was wedged against the rocky wall. It did not take much to realise that Rúmil planned to stay like that all night, devoid of comfort. The minstrel was unimpressed.
“All right, but there's room enough for two,” he said, lying down and offering half the blanket to Rúmil, along with a glare that would have put the Lady Galadriel to shame.
And as with Galadriel, Rúmil was powerless to resist - nor did he really want to. Carefully he crawled under the blanket, near to Lindir. The minstrel smiled approvingly, then to Rúmil's utter shock, gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled, before sleep stole him away.
“Goodnight,” Rúmil replied, wonder and confusion in his voice as he stared at the slumbering minstrel.
It wasn't long before he began to smile and curled up under the shared blanket, more warm and content than he’d ever thought he could be in such conditions.
Some days, Rúmil deeply regretted his choice of career.
Today certainly wasn't one of them.
END
no subject
no subject
The kiss? Just friendly... for now! ;)
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no subject
*Snugs*
Thankies!