Fic: Walls of His Heart (Prologue/? * G-rated for now * Fingolfin/Ariannon-OC) *repost*
Another repost for Fingolfin month!
Title: Walls of His Heart
Chapter: Prologue/?
Author: phyncke
Character(s): Fingolfin and Ariannon (OC)
Beta(s): Jaiden_s (with reads by Tuxedo_Elf and khylea)
Rating: G (this chapter) (may be NC-17/undecided/possible slash later)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Feedback: Much appreciated.
Summary: The tale of the love that develops between the high king and his loyal arundar in the First Age. Eventually set in Hithlum.
Author's Notes: This is a backstory for RP-ing but I thought that it would make a good fiction arc.
Walls of His Heart
Prologue
He dreamt of it often, thought of it often: the sensation of falling through the icy surface with nothing to hold him and no warning.
One moment he had been standing in the wind, drinking from his water skin, lagging behind the others. The next moment he was tumbling down into the dark crevice, a dull thud as he hit the snowy bottom. He did not have time to call out to anyone. It was that sudden. He looked up, blinking at the clouded sky through the jagged hole he had made in the surface of the crusty layer. He was sure no one had seen; surer still that he was going to die, alone in the wasteland.
He tried to climb, but it was no use. The walls were sheer ice, smooth, blue and he had nothing to penetrate them with. His pack was lying useless above. He dug into the ice with his fingernails but did not make enough of an indentation to lift him from the bottom.
"Helloooooo…down there! Are you alright? What is your name? I will get you. Do not be afraid! You are unhurt?"
A deep voice called down to him, and he looked up in surprise. He saw dark hair surrounding a pale face peering over the edge but could not make out enough to distinguish the features .
"I am Ariannon...Be careful! You will fall too!"
"I will not. I am sending down a rope with knots at the bottom. Hold onto it tightly and I will pull you up. Stop worrying so much about me. You are the one down there, after all."
There was a bit of laughter in the voice, which had a calming effect on him. He would never forget the other Elf’s amusement at his fretting. He did have that tendency, it was true, but the other would not know that about him, surely?
The silver rope slithered through the air, dropping in fits and starts, closer and closer, shimmering in the fading light. Ariannon grabbed it when it reached him, gripping it tightly with both fists.
"I am ready!"
"Good...up you come!"
He felt the surge and was lifted off his feet. He held the rope with all his strength, keeping perfectly still. He rose at a steady, even pace, marveling at the strength of his rescuer. As he got nearer the top, he could see him straining, face furrowed in concentration, the muscles of his neck tense with effort.
"Almost got you....keep still now and I will pull you over the top."
He was lifted under his arms and hefted over the lip of the hole. Both of them rolled, ending up laying facing each other on the icepack. His savior breathed hard, the air expelling from his lungs. The grey eyes looked him over, checking for wounds and any lingering harm. His rescuer asked him gruffly,
"You are well?"
"Yes, my lord."
"That is good. Your family is with you? Shall we find them?"
"They stayed behind, m-my lord."
"Ahh... then you will come with me now."
And with that, his life irrevocably changed.
Title: Walls of His Heart
Chapter: Prologue/?
Author: phyncke
Character(s): Fingolfin and Ariannon (OC)
Beta(s): Jaiden_s (with reads by Tuxedo_Elf and khylea)
Rating: G (this chapter) (may be NC-17/undecided/possible slash later)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Feedback: Much appreciated.
Summary: The tale of the love that develops between the high king and his loyal arundar in the First Age. Eventually set in Hithlum.
Author's Notes: This is a backstory for RP-ing but I thought that it would make a good fiction arc.
Walls of His Heart
Prologue
He dreamt of it often, thought of it often: the sensation of falling through the icy surface with nothing to hold him and no warning.
One moment he had been standing in the wind, drinking from his water skin, lagging behind the others. The next moment he was tumbling down into the dark crevice, a dull thud as he hit the snowy bottom. He did not have time to call out to anyone. It was that sudden. He looked up, blinking at the clouded sky through the jagged hole he had made in the surface of the crusty layer. He was sure no one had seen; surer still that he was going to die, alone in the wasteland.
He tried to climb, but it was no use. The walls were sheer ice, smooth, blue and he had nothing to penetrate them with. His pack was lying useless above. He dug into the ice with his fingernails but did not make enough of an indentation to lift him from the bottom.
"Helloooooo…down there! Are you alright? What is your name? I will get you. Do not be afraid! You are unhurt?"
A deep voice called down to him, and he looked up in surprise. He saw dark hair surrounding a pale face peering over the edge but could not make out enough to distinguish the features .
"I am Ariannon...Be careful! You will fall too!"
"I will not. I am sending down a rope with knots at the bottom. Hold onto it tightly and I will pull you up. Stop worrying so much about me. You are the one down there, after all."
There was a bit of laughter in the voice, which had a calming effect on him. He would never forget the other Elf’s amusement at his fretting. He did have that tendency, it was true, but the other would not know that about him, surely?
The silver rope slithered through the air, dropping in fits and starts, closer and closer, shimmering in the fading light. Ariannon grabbed it when it reached him, gripping it tightly with both fists.
"I am ready!"
"Good...up you come!"
He felt the surge and was lifted off his feet. He held the rope with all his strength, keeping perfectly still. He rose at a steady, even pace, marveling at the strength of his rescuer. As he got nearer the top, he could see him straining, face furrowed in concentration, the muscles of his neck tense with effort.
"Almost got you....keep still now and I will pull you over the top."
He was lifted under his arms and hefted over the lip of the hole. Both of them rolled, ending up laying facing each other on the icepack. His savior breathed hard, the air expelling from his lungs. The grey eyes looked him over, checking for wounds and any lingering harm. His rescuer asked him gruffly,
"You are well?"
"Yes, my lord."
"That is good. Your family is with you? Shall we find them?"
"They stayed behind, m-my lord."
"Ahh... then you will come with me now."
And with that, his life irrevocably changed.