Yet Were Its Making Good, For This by LadySternchen  

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Part Two- Reunited

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“Oh come on, love. You are tired, and the only thing to do about that is sleep.”

Mablung savoured each word, unable to keep himself from grinning broadly. He had been forced to watch Elu’s quirks quietly for thousands of years and thus hugely enjoyed being able to openly tease him about them now. And -more importantly- look after him properly.

Elu didn’t react at once but after a while said quietly:
“I miss my cloak.”

“I know. Let us share mine for now. The night is balmy, we shall not be cold, and then tomorrow we will see what we can do to give the Greycloak back his mantle.”

Elu smiled a little, and then pulled his tunic over his head at last. As he bared his torso Mablung’s breath caught in his chest, and not solely from seeing his beloved strip.

“You bear your scars still.” he whispered.

He had not heard of that before, safe in Maedhros, whose right wrist was still encircled with a fine scar, reminiscent of a silver-white bracelet. That scar, he claimed, meant something to him, for it had been Fingon who had cut off his hand out of love, so he bore it even in his new body. Mablung had until now put that off as something weird the Fëanorians would do, who could after all not deny to be Finwë’s descendants. Apparently, he had been mistaken about that, though. Apparently, bearing one’s scars was not only some Finwëan antic.

He caught himself quickly, holding his arm out in invitation, and Elu complied by crawling over to him and lying down in the soft grass as well, arms crossed behind his head. Mablung could not keep his eyes from hungrily roaming his body, inwardly longing to just bend over him and cover every inch of his skin with kisses. He was so lost in thought that he almost started when Elu spoke once more, having apparently just come out of his own line of thoughts.

“Yes, I carry the marks of my death. I am not whole, not how I should be. That is, I think, also why I remember the time in the Halls when everyone else does not.”

“That does make sense, yes. But I shall love you regardless. You can be the oddest elf there is, and the most marked, it does not matter to me. I shall love you on the good days and the bad ones. You know that.”

“I do.” Elu said simply.

For a while, they just lay side by side quietly while night properly fell around them, then Mablung suddenly sighed.

“I could never forgive the Dwarves of Nogrod that. My own death, yes, but never what they did to you.” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Elu’s upper arm.

“I insulted them, Mablung.” Elu stated quietly. “I behaved like the very worst possible version of myself…“

“No insult rectifies murder. You were alone and unarmed among them. Whatever it was you said, killing you there and then was never just, under no law within Arda safe perhaps that of the Orcs.”

Mablung could not keep the heat out of his tone, as much as he tried to.

“They might have declared war on Doriath, I will admit to that, might have asked for an apology or even compensation, but not murder our king.”

“I never said that they were in the right. But I had my hand in my own murder, there is no denying that.”

Mablung knew that Elu was right, had in his mind scolded him many times for his folly and recklessness, yet still he could not bring himself to agree now. Not now that Elu was so openly admitting to his own faults.

“You were ill then, Elu. Quite ill. You were not yourself.”

That, too, was no lie, and Elu sighed, nodding slightly.

“True. But put your anger to rest now, Mablung, at least that part of your anger that you feel on my behalf. They killed me swiftly, it was all over in a matter of moments, and at least the stroke that ended it was almost painless. And they… I cannot be sure of this, but… I think they actually let me look into the Silmaril’s light. Which is strange, for they could in truth not have known what unspeakable comfort that meant to me, but they did not take it away, nor cover it before I was dead. So even in their wrath they showed me that act of mercy. 
So really, I bear no grudge against them and I never did. Well, no, that is not true, I was -and am- quite angry about being robbed, about what they did to my people and my city afterwards, and most importantly about what they did to you and Elmo. But they paid heavily for that, and if their belief is true and they reside in Aulë’s keeping after their deaths, I am sure that Aulë will have dealt with those specific crimes. Or is still dealing with them, for I cannot imagine Dwarves being any less headstrong in death than they are in life.”

He laughed a little and Mablung grudgingly smiled, too.

“But after all, it was the Dwarves who built me Menegroth, and wrought me my sword and shield and armour that saved my life and realm in battle. I am loathe to being the one who sparked so much hatred between our kindreds. Melian says that this was ever designed so by Ilúvatar, but I hate to be an instrument of his will in just such a way. That is almost worse than all that strife being caused by my own temper after all. Or rather my failure to keep it.”

“That strife is settled now, though, at least in parts. Galadriel played a huge role in that, but most of all the grandson of Oropher. He is called Legolas and did great deeds during the defeat of Sauron. He even smuggled his dwarven best friend to the undying lands, believe it or not. Gimli son of Gloin was well beloved in Tol Eressëa until his passing, and is mourned there still.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Elu’s body at those words, and he shifted his position a little to smile gladly at Mablung.

“That is beautiful to hear.” he said quietly. “I should have liked to make Master Gimli’s acquaintance.”

Mablung chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t know. Legolas is bold for sure, but I think having to introduce his smuggled best friend to the legendary elf his father ever idolised… I think that might have been too much for the poor lad.”

Both again laughed, and the laughter drove out the last bit of shock at seeing Elu so scarred. Now Mablung dared, and carefully traced the scar that ran from Elu’s sternum down beyond his navel, feeling him shiver at the touch. Instantly Mablung made to redraw his hand, humming apologetically, but Elu quickly seized his hand, holding it steady on his skin.

“Don’t stop. Never not touch me, Mablung.”

Mablung stopped trying to pull away and allowed his fingers to relax, and after a moment started to caress Elu again, who closed his eyes for a moment in relish.

“Alright.” Mablung whispered. “If you promise me to never not kiss me when my memories overwhelm me.”

“Promised.” Elu breathed.

They could no longer deny their longing for each other now, and Mablung spread his cloak over both of them, drawing even closer to his companion as he did so, and felt his arousal against his thigh.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” he asked hoarsely.

“Of course I do. You took my virginity that day in more than one way, so how could I not remember? I cherished that memory throughout the Ages, both in Beleriand and Mandos.“

Mablung smiled.

“A part of me rued the fact, then, that it was not the first time for me as well. But then, had it been, I could not have pretended not to bond.”

“Aye, and it was clumsy enough with me having no clue. Imagine us both… nay, I would rather not. I was so overwhelmed. Nobody had ever touched me, never before had I been at someone’s mercy. I felt so vulnerable then, but you… you were so gentle.”

“I wonder if it will feel like that again. Like the first time. After all, our bodies are not the same bodies that… well.“

Elu took a moment to answer, but then said:
“It is different, and yet the first time again. I… Melian and I could not keep off each other after I was re-embodied. It surprised even us, the longing we felt when we held each other again, as that was never the most important part of our relationship.”

“No…” Mablung smirked “… you cuddled. All the time. I guessed after a while that not every touch could lead to more, not given the amount of time you spent in court.”

Elu snorted, pushing himself away from Mablung a little so that he could look him in the face.

“Mablung, what exactly… have you been pondering my love life the whole time?”

He sounded both amused and indignant, which again made Mablung laugh.

“What else should I have done when standing guard behind you? Why do you think I was so keen to take on the post as the King’s guard whenever I was off my hunter’s duty? Because then it was actually my job to watch you, and I could do so without it seeming odd.”

“And being horny that entire time?“

“Mh, maybe not the entire time, but often enough. But then, tonight, the tables shall truly be turned. I have not been intimate with anyone since Mandos, not even Beleg. This time, in this body, my first time shall be with you.“

“I am honoured” Elu said softly, and then he pulled Mablung into a real kiss at last.

For all Mablung knew as they lay beneath the stars, loving each other, they might have been the only beings in the fathomless Void, for it would surly not have felt any different.

Nothing was real anymore for Mablung safe Elu alone, their kisses and entwined bodies, and touching him and being touched. He knew Elu thanked him for his love and patience with every tender caress, every kiss, every careful movement within him, and Mablung gave himself to his companion wholly, having never before known his pleasure to reach such heights.

Only when he thought he would not be able to hold back another moment did he open his eyes again, cupping Elu’s face with a trembling hand. Elu, too, was shaking with his arousal, and by his ragged breathing Mablung knew that he could not be in any other state than he himself.

“I am close now.” Mablung breathed huskily “And I want us to come together. I need us to come together.”

“Oh Mablung…” Elu panted, hiding his face for a moment in the crook of Mablung’s neck, until he had somewhat steadied his breathing.

Then he looked up again, reached very deliberately for Mablung’s hand and interlocked their fingers.

“Eru be our witness, then.” he said hoarsely.

“Eru be our witness.” Mablung repeated, before he again lost himself in Elu’s embrace.

He  knew that this was a life-changing moment, but just then he could not have cared less. He only cared about Elu moving within him, and his hands between Mablung's legs, and the words he whispered into his ear:
“You’re mine.”

Only once they had come down from their climax and somewhat steadied their breathing did Elu add:
“That is, if you want to be mine.”

Mablung laughed and kissed Elu passionately. This small double-take was so endearingly familiar to him that he could not help it.

“That is so you. Everyone else would have just left it there. I have always been yours, Elu. Since I could walk and talk, I have been yours. I admired you, I trusted you, I wanted to be close to you. Only my childish self did not recognise that feeling as love then. And I will remain yours forevermore. I love you.”

Elu smiled, but sniffed a little all the same.

“I love you, too. But now I am going to cry you know? As you said, the tables are turned. You cried our first first time, I cry this second first time.”

“You noticed? Then?”

Mablung was both touched and embarrassed. He had thought that Elu had remained oblivious to his tears back then, but apparently he had been mistaken.

“Have I noticed… of course I noticed. Honestly, Mablung, how could I not notice? Do you think I have not watched you just as closely as you watched me? It touched me so deeply to know what this first time meant to you, and I cannot say how much I admired your strength, because I knew what you put yourself into. I am so sorry that I could not give you what you needed.”

“No. No, love, you gave me what I needed. And we have each other now. Thanks to Melian, and I will never stop thanking her for that.”

A loving smile swept over Elu’s face as he nodded.

“I still cannot believe that I will truly have you both with me. And oh, I look forward to see you and Melian just… be together. She always put all her trust in you, and I love that I will see that friendship grow now that she is no longer your queen.”

For a moment Mablung just looked at Elu, then he laughed. Of course, he could know nothing of the relationship that had developed between him and Melian over the past millennia. Mablung chose not to mention that now, though. Elu would soon find out himself.

A content sleepiness came over them both now, and Elu had already turned back onto his back, lying with his eyes closed, strands of hair having come loose from his braid after their love-making. Mablung gazed at him raptly, marvelling at his beauty, yet also reminded painfully of Elu lying dead, and as much as he tried to calm himself, he could not keep a small noise of dismay escaping his throat before long. Elu opened his eyes again in concern, and Mablung hastened to reassure him.

“Sleep. I am sorry. It is just that seeing you like this… it brings back memories.”

Elu, to Mablung’s great surprise, smiled wryly and sighed.

“You are like Elmo when he was a child. He could never bear to see me sleep, unless he lay with his ear over my heart. Come here then.”
Mablung wanted to protest, to tell Elu that he was not to be compared to the frightened little elfling Elmo had been at Cuiviénen, but snuggled into Elu’s arms nonetheless.

“I am not your brother.” he grumbled, and felt Elu chuckle.

“Of course not, my love. Otherwise I would hardly have bedded you.”

Mablung really wanted to argue some more, to tell Elu that unlike little Elmo, whose fear for Elu had been borne of the assault on their parents he had witnessed as an infant, his pain came from an entirely different experience. He had been the one to slide Elu’s eyes shut so that neither Melian nor Elmo had to go through that experience, had seen Elu lie in state, had stood hours and hours by his body in grief so profound that it was true physical pain.

He wanted to tell Elu that it was for these memories that watching him sleep was painful, but Mablung found he was really too tired to talk anymore. So he finally did as bidden and laid his head onto Elu's chest, and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat that was no altogether steady. Mablung wondered briefly if this was still his coming down from his climax, or else if that was what Lord Námo had meant when he had said that there was no healing Elu's broken heart. Or did Elu indeed wear his internal scars like he did those on his skin?

He found, though, that he was truly too tired to worry about that now, so he allowed his mind so relax and his eyelids to slide shut. The very last thing he felt was for Elu to lay his hand on his head and stroke his hair tenderly and within moments he was fast asleep.