Flowers in a Lightning Storm - fanfiction

Trio: A Rivendell Suite

Desire

"Did you hear--"

The Ranger's hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. Arwen covered it with her own.

"Hush. There is no one"

The jewel nesting at Aragorn's collarbone was warm, as warm as her fingers skimming the too-often unkempt curve of his jaw, skimming his temple, coming to wind sure and soothing in his hair. So steady, those hands. Much more so than his own molded with immobile reverence at the small of her back, hardly daring--

"Aragorn," Arwen whispered, her breath a brushing of silver and brook-song upon his parted lips. "Remember what I have said. Remember those words well. But not half so well as you remember this," she murmured, her mouth curving to contain the richness in her voice. "I will not break."

Aragorn closed his eyes and bent his head. He clasped her sure hands upon his shoulders, wondering if they would remain beyond trembling when--

"No. Yet I might."

Arwen's intake of breath clenched in time with Aragorn's fists. He pressed inward, drawing them nearer. For long, speechless moments, they stood cheek with cheek pressed to cheek, neither chancing a breath. So cool and supple, that lithe flesh, thinly draped with the stars' own weaving--

Arwen laughed. Low, cautioning velvet run across Aragorn's cheek.

"Shall I then add that you are not Narsil, either?"

"Peace, peace. Love, you need not. In doing so, however, you've reminded me that--" His voice fled at a brush of the same fabric--dampened--at the curve of his neck.

"That shards are easily forged over. And, of course--"

"Melisse!" It hissed from him before he could stay his tongue. How could he, when hers--

"Patience."

Aragorn loosened his hold on her, froze. That ageless voice, shattered. Raw. Human. He turned away.

"This love is your death! Do you see? How I'm cleft in twain, split, broken, scattered? No better than my forebear's shield and arms! Arwen, I am that broken blade--and you--"

"Shall be the forge to resurrect it, even so."

The moment caught between them and held. Aragorn turned.

"I imagined it, then...that I heard you so..."

"Broken?" Arwen murmured, extending her hands. "No, you did not imagine it. By you, I am gladly broken."

Aragorn clasped her hands, head bent. He did could not find the strength to raise it until his tears fell upon their fingers irrevocably twined. And when their eyes met, he saw that hers, too, seeped with shine.

"How is it," he whispered, leaning as before, "that you and I alike shed such a thing as tears?"

"They know no death," Arwen answered, tilting her head. "Only constant spending and rebirth."

"Ai..."

II.

Devotion

"Elbereth!"

Frodo's gasp melted and mingled with the warmth of Sam's mouth. Their lips did nothing more than press for long moments, damply parted as their heavy eyelids drifted to a close. Frodo felt the flutter of Sam's lashes against his brow and shivered. The body languorously draped with his own trembled in response. Sam's hands crept to his waist, stroking with infinite care.

"You're sore," he murmured, shaping a brief, reverent kiss. "That Council's right early tomorrow. You should--"

"Please, tell me you haven't let on that you know. If Merry and Pip catch wind, then--"

"Your Sam's not so foolish as all that, Frodo dear. Like as not they'll hear from some Dwarf, anyhow."

Frodo sighed, leaning close once more, mouth open and inviting. Sam groaned softly as Frodo's tongue deftly parted his teeth, seeking the company of its own kind. Frodo broke the kiss after long moments, resting his forehead against Sam's with a sigh. Sam shifted beneath him, hands creeping up his back, over pale silken fabric and to his shoulders.

"You seem to agree," Frodo whispered, "that sleep can wait."

"You need your rest."

"I need you."

Frodo slid lower against Sam until they touched. Sam shivered in his own plain shirt, stripped of all else. He pressed at Frodo's back, one hand stroking down to his rump. Frodo settled with a shudder, murmuring something Sam couldn't catch.

"Mr. Frodo?" His light grip on one frail shoulder eased. "Does that hurt?"

"No."

Sam could breathe again. He relaxed under Frodo's snug, slight weight. "Then--"

Frodo smiled, placing a finger over his lips, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Sam waited a few moments before kissing his throat, tender despite his impatience. Frodo slipped his fingers through Sam's curls and wriggled a bit, which drew a satisfied hum from the belly beneath. Frodo molded his mouth to Sam's ear.

"Soon enough, soon enough! But, listen..."

III.

Delight

"Merry! Merry, plea--Merry! I want--um!--to--ummmMERRY!"

Merry's mouth was too full for a proper response. He mumbled, blinking up at Pippin, who appeared to have forgotten what he wanted to do entirely.

"Mmhmp--pn? S'r'ght?"

"Oh, Merry. Merry," Pippin groaned, eyes shut tightly, fever-flushed cheeks sucking in with the effort of his breath. His gasps grew shorter by the minute. "I...ooh, no... nothing... nothing!... keep... dothat!..."

Merry's eyes closed with relish. He tightened his grip on his cousin's hips, leaning further forward, till his forehead rested against the lean softness of Pippin's lower belly. He suckled steadily, wondering what would happen if he tried this instead of--

"Oooh! That! Keep! That!" Pippin grunted, struggling against Merry's firm grip.

Merry laughed, pulling back with a satisfied pop. "Keep what, Pip?"

Pippin wailed--wordless, indecipherable. Merry knelt hypnotized for a long moment, drinking in the bright, desperate eyes. He wondered if he could continue. His mouth had gone dry with sheer longing for another taste of Pippin's pleading lips.

"You...you liked...?" Merry croaked, running a hand briefly over Pippin in compensation.

"Unnnh!" Pippin writhed under Merry's touch, eyes closing again, only this time on the faintest glitter of tears.

Merry buried his face in Pippin's stomach without warning, another laugh welling up unbidden, kissing his way back to where he had begun. Continuing, he wondered if Pippin's relieved yelp had been heard throughout their own airy wing of Elrond's sanctuary. Merry paused between nuzzles and nips, savoring Pip's every flinch and whimper. He let go once more, thoughtful, whispering against glistening flesh.

"Tomorrow," he said softly, catching Pippin's glazed eyes with a wicked grin.

"T--Tomorrow what?" Pippin gasped between labored breaths. "I'm havin' enough...trouble thinkin' about right now...Mer--Meriadoc. If you please...!"

"Oh, I please," Merry growled, diving for another go. Pippin stifled a shriek.

"B--But what...might you have...in m--mmmind...for t--tomorrow?"

Merry arched his eyebrows, feigning an apologetic expression. "Cnnnt--tlk! S--hy!"

Pippin bit his lip and gave a stubborn thrust.

"Ow!"

"Serves you--agh! You bit--"

"How could I? Bloody near knocked my teeth out--"

"Merry..." Pippin squirmed, holding his arms out pleadingly.

"Oh, bugger that," Merry groaned, settling atop Pippin gladly. He pulled his cousin's legs tight and buried a gasp in the pillow.

Pippin gave a soft, satisfied moan close to Merry's ear, biting gently at his neck. Merry pushed in response, pulling Pippin tight by the waist. Pippin's words emerged in bursts of scattered breath, a bellows to the flame creeping steadily through Merry's skin up from his toes.

"Mm...well...now...can....can you...tell meohoooh!...Merry, love?"

Merry's mouth couldn't persuade his mouth to form words, let alone his mind. "I...uhm...mmm...Pip..."

"Yes?"

"Just...Pipuhhuhplease, tighte--just that...there--is--ugh! Some kind of...meetin't'morrow! AUGH!"

Pippin took a final twinge in response to Merry's warm, shuddering spill. He thrust up quickly, feverishly, savoring his own last moments.

"Well...then...we'll have to...go, won't we--"

By then, Merry had recovered sufficient to latch onto Pippin's earlobe. But this time, he was certain that Pippin's final cry had been audible...