tuxedo_elf: (Rumil brown 2)
I'm thrilled to say I *loved* my AinA gift fic! It was written by Ignoblebard and is called 'So Beautiful, So New'. It's Celegorm/Orome and is set just as Celegorm is reborn. It's beautifully written, I highly recommend giving it a read!

It can be found here: http://slashysanta.com/eFiction/viewstory.php?sid=138

I do intend to post my fic here, but after I'm sure the recipient has seen it. But until then... I wrote this as a very last minute pinch-hit that thankfully wasn't needed, so it's not on the site. (I might put it up at some point though.) But seeing as it's written I might as well share!

Title: A Hasty Assumption
Author: Tuxedo Elf
Pairing: Rúmil/Elrohir
Rating: PG13
Summary: Long-distance relationships can be complicated...




“Elrohir, let go,” Rúmil chuckled as he tried to move away. “I cannot pack with you clinging to me like a limpet!” He gestured at the bag and possessions that were strewn on the bed.

“What a shame,” Elrohir replied, without even a hint of regret. “You will just have to stay here.”

Rúmil wriggled, finally managing to turn and face Elrohir. “As much as that sounds delightful, I do have to go home. Lord Celeborn will be quite cross if I neglect my duties.”

Elrohir pouted, causing Rúmil to giggle. “I can speak to grandfather! I will tell him you are needed to serve the family here!”

“And one member of the family in particular, no doubt?” Rúmil questioned dryly. “I would hate for him to ask what kind of ‘service’ you had in mind.”

Smiling sweetly, Elrohir leaned forward to steal a kiss. “Did I say that?”

Rúmil rolled his eyes, though returned the kiss. “You did not have to.”

At Elrohir’s resigned look, Rúmil’s demeanour changed and he pulled his lover into a warm embrace. “You knew I had only a limited time here… that I would have to go home. It pains me too – but I cannot abandon my duties or my family.”

“I understand… I just do not like it,” Elrohir replied. Resting his head on Rúmil’s shoulder, he sighed softly. “We have barely had chance to start this relationship and now you must leave. Will you write?”

“I will write.”

***************

He had not written.

Months had passed and missives had arrived, yet there had been nothing from Rúmil. Elrohir’s emotions had run wild in that time – from worry, anger and resentment, through to heartache and self-pity. Eventually he had simply refused to talk about the issue, much to Elladan’s distress.

Although he knew his twin often buried his feelings, Elrohir seemed to be stewing and Elladan worried for him. Most people did not even notice, but Elladan was not ‘most people’ and knew almost without trying when Elrohir was troubled. Yet on this occasion, he had utterly failed to get Elrohir to open up to him.

It certainly was not for lack of trying. Elladan had exhausted every trick he knew to get Elrohir to unburden himself. Extended hunting trips, quiet evenings together, parties with liberal amounts of wine – all had yielded the same effect – none whatsoever.

By the time eight months had passed, Elladan’s patience was at an end. He spoke briefly to his father before barging uninvited into Elrohir’s room and throwing an empty pack on his bed. “I suggest you put your things together, we leave at dawn.”

Elrohir, who had been in the middle of polishing his sword, looked up in surprise. “Where are we going?”

“Father has a message that needs delivering urgently. He has asked us to take it before winter sets in.”

“To where? Mordor?”

Elladan had a sneaking suspicion that Elrohir would prefer Mordor. Well, maybe next time. “Lothlórien.”

The younger twin’s expression darkened. “Oh no, I am not falling for that. You can go, I am staying right here.” He retuned his attention to his sword, cleaning it diligently.

“You are not. I have orders from father that we are both to go. It has been too long since we have seen our grandparents.” Elladan crossed his arms, looking firm.

“I do not care. I am not going.” Elrohir was almost petulant in his refusal, which, coming from an Elf who was both a skilled warrior and accomplished healer, Elladan found ludicrous.

“Brother, you are acting like a child. Either pack your things, or I will do it for you and drag you forcibly onto your horse.”

Shaking his head, Elrohir let out a short laugh. “You would not dare.”

Elladan had only smirked.

**************

He had dared.

Elrohir shot his brother filthy looks as they rode away from Imladris. Elladan had been true to his word, packing Elrohir’s supplies and dragging him from his bed at first light. He had resisted of course, but to his dismay, Glorfindel had entered to assist Elladan. Before he knew what was happening, Elrohir was dressed and on his horse, with hardly a chance to protest.

Sometimes, he hated his brother.

“Cheer up; you look like you are all alone in the world!” Elladan teased, patting Elrohir on the back.

Sighing, the younger twin glared at Elladan. “I am not that fortunate.”

Elladan only laughed and led them onto the rocky path that would lead them high into the misty mountains.

It was a dangerous journey to Lothlórien. The mountain pass had grown increasingly perilous these past years and they were attacked several times along the way. Groups of rouge men held the lower passes this side of Imladris, hoards of Orcs infested the higher reaches.

Unusually, Elrohir enjoyed the battles. He was by nature a calm and laid-back Elf, preferring healing to harm. Yet the anticipated confrontation had left him edgy and nervous and it felt good to release some of those tensions.

By the time they reached the borders of Lothlórien, he was feeling significantly better, despite being tired and filthy.

The Galadhrim greeted them as they always did, jumping from the trees without a sound. Elrohir suspected they did it more for show than true stealth. He did not recognise any of the warriors and that was a relief – he had feared that Rúmil would be on that border and he would not even have the opportunity to make himself respectable before they met again.

He kept an eye out for his former lover as they were escorted to their grandparents’ royal talan. Thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen and before long, he was shoulder-deep in a steaming bath. He let out a sigh of relief and sank lower still into the bath, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles.

When the door opened he did not even move, certain it was only the maid come to top up the water.

“Elrohir?”

He froze. That was a voice he knew… a voice he’d been hoping to avoid at least a little longer. Preferably until he was dressed.

“What do you want, Rúmil?” He did not turn around, unwilling to actually face the Lórien Elf.

Rúmil shock at his tone was evident in his voice. “To see you of course… I came as soon as I heard you were here.”

“Well, now you have seen me.” Elrohir shifted in the bath, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Is there anything else?”

“Elrohir… why are being this way? You do not write and then when I come to see you I find myself treated as an unwanted visitor… what I have I done wrong?”

Sitting up now, Elrohir spluttered. “I do not write? You did not write! I waited months without a word!”

“I sent a letter six months ago, when Othion went to Imladris with messages for your father.” Rúmil was sounding increasingly irritated.

“I received no letter,” Elrohir replied. “If I had, I would have written back to you. Though if one letter in eight months is your idea of writing, I am best off not wasting my time.”

Rúmil let out a growl of frustration. “Elrohir, what is wrong with you? I thought you above such childishness! Look at me, damn you, and grow up. You are a Lord and a warrior, this behaviour is beneath you.”

The words riled Elrohir and he did turn; a sharp retort on his tongue, though it faded when he actually saw the Elf. Rúmil was not in uniform as he usually was and there was fading scar near his chin. More alarmingly, his right arm was heavily bandaged and strapped tightly to his chest.

“Rúmil! What happened?”

The Galadhel smiled slightly. “As I said, I did write. I do not know why you never got the letter – perhaps Othion lost it, he was never the most reliable. Shortly after sending it, I was knocked from my talan during a battle and my arm broke in four places. I tried to have Orophin dictate a letter, but it was too embarrassing, so I decided to wait until my arm healed. I did not anticipate it taking so long, but there were complications in getting the bone to mend in all the right places.”

Elrohir was still staring in shock at Rúmil. “Will it heal?” He asked softly. “Will… you shoot again?” He knew how much Rúmil loved the bow – he would be devastated if he were unable to be an archer.

“They say I will be back on duty within two years,” Rúmil assured him. “Hopefully I will be able to write again rather sooner.”

For a long moment, Elrohir simply stared at Rúmil. Then his senses returned and he jumped out of the bath and ran to him, throwing his arms around the other Elf, heedless of his nudity.

Wrapping his good arm around Elrohir, Rúmil sighed in relief. “You still want me then?”

“I do…” Elrohir replied. “I am so sorry Rúmil… I thought you had abandoned me, that you did not wish the pressures of a long distance lover. I should have thought better of you.” The months of anger had turned swiftly to guilt, making him deeply regret his behaviour.

“Indeed you should have,” Rúmil smiled. “However it was an understandable assumption… perhaps I should have sent a simple note, if only to keep you informed. We have both erred it seems.”

Elrohir took a deep breath. “Then perhaps we can both put things to rights?”

Smiling, Rúmil nodded. “I think we can do that. I would suggest starting with a kiss.”

“I agree!” Laughing, Elrohir held Rúmil tightly before claiming his lips in a deep, unyielding kiss.

Rúmil gave into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of being held and loved, until at last he broke reluctantly away, something else nagging at his mind. “Elrohir?”

“Hmmm?” Elrohir was content, still holding tightly to the Galadhel.

“You are wet. And naked.”

“Oh, so I am.” He had almost forgotten, though now he remembered, a slow smile appeared on his face. “Care to join me?”

“I am not permitted to get my arm wet,” Rúmil replied.

“What about naked?”

“Naked is permitted.”

Elrohir grinned wickedly and led Rúmil from the bathroom. “I am extremely glad to hear it. It has been a long eight months.”

“This night may seem even longer.”

It was the best news he had ever heard.


END
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