A pair of Silm drabbles
Feb. 1st, 2006 12:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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silwritersguildMany moons ago, I took drabble requests from my F-list and got 2 Silm requests. After reading that the theme for February is One True Love, it seemed that now would be a good time to post them. :)
Both are slash, but neither are graphic or explicit.
He went forth first for his oath, though it foretold his doom, setting aside his crown for honor. Yet no oath felled him, and no song of trust unbroken sung at Sauron’s feet could keep him. What slew him in the last was canny, cold, and crueler still than any ragged beast of Morgoth’s make.
“My heart is burst…”
Blood bitter on his lips: his own, his foe’s. Poison teeth piercing his breast were less mortal a wound than seeing a light brighter than any silmaril in Beren’s eyes, and knowing it was never meant to shine for him.
“Loss of a hand makes you no less whole. Not to me.”
Soft, persistent kisses coax reluctant sighs from a throat still tight with too many emotions. His hand a phantom presence, his fingers, even in their absence, long to trace the angle of his cheek. He cries hot tears of shame, disgust. Fear. All are kissed away.
When Fingon leans down to cover Maedhros’ body with his own, Maedhros sees that his figure casts a shadow like a great bird, arms spread wide like wings.
You have become Throndor, he thinks. You have come to rescue me once again.
Both are slash, but neither are graphic or explicit.
He went forth first for his oath, though it foretold his doom, setting aside his crown for honor. Yet no oath felled him, and no song of trust unbroken sung at Sauron’s feet could keep him. What slew him in the last was canny, cold, and crueler still than any ragged beast of Morgoth’s make.
“My heart is burst…”
Blood bitter on his lips: his own, his foe’s. Poison teeth piercing his breast were less mortal a wound than seeing a light brighter than any silmaril in Beren’s eyes, and knowing it was never meant to shine for him.
“Loss of a hand makes you no less whole. Not to me.”
Soft, persistent kisses coax reluctant sighs from a throat still tight with too many emotions. His hand a phantom presence, his fingers, even in their absence, long to trace the angle of his cheek. He cries hot tears of shame, disgust. Fear. All are kissed away.
When Fingon leans down to cover Maedhros’ body with his own, Maedhros sees that his figure casts a shadow like a great bird, arms spread wide like wings.
You have become Throndor, he thinks. You have come to rescue me once again.
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Date: 2006-02-01 06:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 08:22 pm (UTC)As for the courage to write more than 100 words...well, this month's challenge seems as good an excuse as any! :^D
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Date: 2006-02-03 03:34 am (UTC)Perhaps I'll try and be brave this month... stranger things have happened!
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Date: 2006-02-02 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-05 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 03:37 am (UTC)I had never considered Finrod and Beren in any sort of slashy context (and still probably wouldn't)-- that was a specific request from someone on my f-list. Fortunately for me, Tolkien's actual text gave me a lot to work with, and it turned out to be one of the easier ones to finish.