The Edge of Night[March 3010][Ruivo][CW]
Sept 5, 2018 19:51:27 GMT -5
Post by MITHIEL on Sept 5, 2018 19:51:27 GMT -5
“You are weary as well...I can see it in your eyes” she did not say eye, as Mithiel knew the physical body here on Arda was intact and while of the body he might be half blind. But it was of the spirit, of the world Ruivo and she walked in dreams and met there that he was not blind in one eye. His eyes were glacial blue, soft and watery as the spring melt. Kind and gentle pools that went deeper than the visual gave. Lurking behind was his beautiful mind, the mind of an artist, of an ellon that felt deeper than he allowed others to see. Mithiel searched over her love’s face.
Love that had endured through the ages, love that had not diminished no matter the struggle presented before her. Love that had grown, deep and strong as the great groves of Malinornë. Steadfast and constant to the one that had been her salvation. They were each other’s salvation and undoing. He was her moor and her, his safe harbor. Long ago she had promised herself in love to him, asked Ruivo to build the future with her and he had agreed, willing without reservation. Now here they laid together.
“Three thousand and one years...forty five hundred years has there been a strain between us Rui. We are too old to play these games narhónnya. We are weary and our road has been long and steep” My fireheart. So close yet closer could they come. Ruivo’s nose brushed against her’s. Her command so close to being obeyed. “I ache without you. I am in pain without you” vulnerability shone in her eyes. And the entrance of Fenion had caused their separation, though Mithiel knew Fenion was only following the orders given to him.
Ruivo was a distant from her now, standing nearer to the young elf and her eyes watched the mask that he had so carefully crafted slip back into place. The distance, the silence when others were present. The coldness that he wore, Mithiel had long grown used to the mask Ruivo wore here in Imladris, all of Fenion’s life had he worn that mask and not known the tenderness between them. For so long they had lived their lives in private, skirting around the truth of their lives. Keeping everyone at a drafted distance between them and what was theirs. It was strange to say what she had been doing with Ruivo, that they had laid there together, the sweep of blush to Ruivo’s ears. That cute flush which would make his freckles stand out more against his pale skin.
“Ruivo, relax…” Mithiel suggested to the smith. “It is not a crime to be with the one you care for. Remember when you mauled by wolves? And I would not leave your side...this too is the same as that”
She did not speak nor make a further sound. But the look in her eyes would tell Fenion exactly what was about to occur as Ruivo had fallen silent and moved away from looking out the window. She watched him silently as the cold air brushed past his cheek and lightly lifted silken tendrils of his hair. She did not look up at Ruivo when he began to cross the room, knowing he was leaving again. He always left when she began to cry for the past age, he had walked away. Except...this time Fenion did not allow it.
“If you step from this room, I will call for Lord Erestor to tend to her,” Fenion dared to threaten and Mithiel’s eyes went wide. “Please do not” she whispered to Fenion, desperation on her voice that he not fetch the dark haired scholar. She could not bare Erestor’s demeanor, long had she known the lord and his sharp tongue made her uneasy. Never knowing what barb might lay at the end of his fair tongue. For he was a mighty elf lord, she did not deny this. Nor did she deny his keen mind, biting wit and his capable sword arm. For she had seen such sides.
Fenion dared to call the dark lord and that seemed to give a bite to Ruivo’s heels. This voice as he stopped his stride and turned. Mithiel’s eyes flicked to Ruivo. She noticed the way his jaw clenched with tension behind it. Fenion called Ruivo out, and Mithiel’s heart tore in three different directions. The first was pure instinct, protective instinct toward Ruivo, the years of their life had her wanting to snap at Fenion for the way his young tongue spoke to Ruivo as if he held some command over him. The second, she wanted to beg Ruivo not to leave but how could she. No amount of asking in the past seemed to have kept him from slinking off, from leaving her to wait for him, and she always forgave him for it. The third was the anger she would feel towards Erestor just trying to do as he would be asked if he was called.
Though it seemed, Fenion’s daring had gave Ruivo pause and he had stalked back to her and unceremoniously her hand reached across the bed for his, while his lofty frame lowered down to the bed he had constructed for them. As one hand came up, his fingers beginning to brush away tears. “Váya,” Ruivo whispered, her cheek butting into his palm. “Kando…” and his other hand came to her face, cradling it between the two, thumbs brushing her cheeks. Mithiel leaned into the cupping of her face and stared through smeared vision at the ellon. “I apologize,” he whispered. “I do not know what… you should… you should be--
Mithiel blinked away the wetness which clung to her lashes, tear stinging sensitive eyes . As Ruivo’s face came closer with the sound of the door shutting. Red hair fell forward as Ruivo dipped his head down and found her lips. Soft and slow, leaving Mithiel with no control over the groan of pleasure which seeped passed her lips to his.
“Does this suit?”
“Mmmm” she answered in reply as another kiss came to her mouth, much as before except it was placed hard, firm and Mithiel slid her hands up his form arms, up into his hair, entangling the strand there as her returned kiss became slightly more urgent at the parting of lips. He sought for her and she met him in the space between. Mithiel’s fingers moved to cup Ruivo’s own face in her palms, the scars of ages long past, smooth here and there under her fingers, faded with age. Her mouth welcomed him. The spirit inside welcomed him as love streaked through her. Weak, tired, leaning into him for support. Ruivo melded against her, both her hands curled gingerly around his wrists with iron cold steel behind her grip and she brought both their bodies down into the pillows of her bed. Letting kisses form and escape, taking the heat from Ruivo’s body to warm her own. Mithiel’s arms had grown cold and chilled with the window being opened. Elves did not take chill easy but the window had been opened long enough that she finally was beginning to feel the cold settle onto her with less blood in her body than she had before.
“Stay” she murmured against his mouth. “Stay with me.” her voice became a bit more urgent as did her kiss at the thought he was leaving her again. “We are weary...heal with me, be with me. Do not leave” Mithiel’s eyes beckoned and asked of him.
Love that had endured through the ages, love that had not diminished no matter the struggle presented before her. Love that had grown, deep and strong as the great groves of Malinornë. Steadfast and constant to the one that had been her salvation. They were each other’s salvation and undoing. He was her moor and her, his safe harbor. Long ago she had promised herself in love to him, asked Ruivo to build the future with her and he had agreed, willing without reservation. Now here they laid together.
“Three thousand and one years...forty five hundred years has there been a strain between us Rui. We are too old to play these games narhónnya. We are weary and our road has been long and steep” My fireheart. So close yet closer could they come. Ruivo’s nose brushed against her’s. Her command so close to being obeyed. “I ache without you. I am in pain without you” vulnerability shone in her eyes. And the entrance of Fenion had caused their separation, though Mithiel knew Fenion was only following the orders given to him.
Ruivo was a distant from her now, standing nearer to the young elf and her eyes watched the mask that he had so carefully crafted slip back into place. The distance, the silence when others were present. The coldness that he wore, Mithiel had long grown used to the mask Ruivo wore here in Imladris, all of Fenion’s life had he worn that mask and not known the tenderness between them. For so long they had lived their lives in private, skirting around the truth of their lives. Keeping everyone at a drafted distance between them and what was theirs. It was strange to say what she had been doing with Ruivo, that they had laid there together, the sweep of blush to Ruivo’s ears. That cute flush which would make his freckles stand out more against his pale skin.
“Ruivo, relax…” Mithiel suggested to the smith. “It is not a crime to be with the one you care for. Remember when you mauled by wolves? And I would not leave your side...this too is the same as that”
She did not speak nor make a further sound. But the look in her eyes would tell Fenion exactly what was about to occur as Ruivo had fallen silent and moved away from looking out the window. She watched him silently as the cold air brushed past his cheek and lightly lifted silken tendrils of his hair. She did not look up at Ruivo when he began to cross the room, knowing he was leaving again. He always left when she began to cry for the past age, he had walked away. Except...this time Fenion did not allow it.
“If you step from this room, I will call for Lord Erestor to tend to her,” Fenion dared to threaten and Mithiel’s eyes went wide. “Please do not” she whispered to Fenion, desperation on her voice that he not fetch the dark haired scholar. She could not bare Erestor’s demeanor, long had she known the lord and his sharp tongue made her uneasy. Never knowing what barb might lay at the end of his fair tongue. For he was a mighty elf lord, she did not deny this. Nor did she deny his keen mind, biting wit and his capable sword arm. For she had seen such sides.
Fenion dared to call the dark lord and that seemed to give a bite to Ruivo’s heels. This voice as he stopped his stride and turned. Mithiel’s eyes flicked to Ruivo. She noticed the way his jaw clenched with tension behind it. Fenion called Ruivo out, and Mithiel’s heart tore in three different directions. The first was pure instinct, protective instinct toward Ruivo, the years of their life had her wanting to snap at Fenion for the way his young tongue spoke to Ruivo as if he held some command over him. The second, she wanted to beg Ruivo not to leave but how could she. No amount of asking in the past seemed to have kept him from slinking off, from leaving her to wait for him, and she always forgave him for it. The third was the anger she would feel towards Erestor just trying to do as he would be asked if he was called.
Though it seemed, Fenion’s daring had gave Ruivo pause and he had stalked back to her and unceremoniously her hand reached across the bed for his, while his lofty frame lowered down to the bed he had constructed for them. As one hand came up, his fingers beginning to brush away tears. “Váya,” Ruivo whispered, her cheek butting into his palm. “Kando…” and his other hand came to her face, cradling it between the two, thumbs brushing her cheeks. Mithiel leaned into the cupping of her face and stared through smeared vision at the ellon. “I apologize,” he whispered. “I do not know what… you should… you should be--
Mithiel blinked away the wetness which clung to her lashes, tear stinging sensitive eyes . As Ruivo’s face came closer with the sound of the door shutting. Red hair fell forward as Ruivo dipped his head down and found her lips. Soft and slow, leaving Mithiel with no control over the groan of pleasure which seeped passed her lips to his.
“Does this suit?”
“Mmmm” she answered in reply as another kiss came to her mouth, much as before except it was placed hard, firm and Mithiel slid her hands up his form arms, up into his hair, entangling the strand there as her returned kiss became slightly more urgent at the parting of lips. He sought for her and she met him in the space between. Mithiel’s fingers moved to cup Ruivo’s own face in her palms, the scars of ages long past, smooth here and there under her fingers, faded with age. Her mouth welcomed him. The spirit inside welcomed him as love streaked through her. Weak, tired, leaning into him for support. Ruivo melded against her, both her hands curled gingerly around his wrists with iron cold steel behind her grip and she brought both their bodies down into the pillows of her bed. Letting kisses form and escape, taking the heat from Ruivo’s body to warm her own. Mithiel’s arms had grown cold and chilled with the window being opened. Elves did not take chill easy but the window had been opened long enough that she finally was beginning to feel the cold settle onto her with less blood in her body than she had before.
“Stay” she murmured against his mouth. “Stay with me.” her voice became a bit more urgent as did her kiss at the thought he was leaving her again. “We are weary...heal with me, be with me. Do not leave” Mithiel’s eyes beckoned and asked of him.