Middle Earth || OS

25. Haldir | A Dream or True

Tumblr : heilith

- "I heard you talking in your sleep"

Can also pass as another piece for the Sickeningly sweet cliches challenge - "Having a dream about them".

I don't even know about this one, I think I got a bit carried away with building sentences. :) Ah, well, you never know how it turns out, when you start. Be kind to your insecure author.

I'm my own beta, and a very illiterate one to that.

Not sure about "êl nin" , but from what I gather, it should literally be "my star".

Edaine is what those snobbish Elves call us, poor mortals.

Ok, long story short, here it is:

A Dream or True

"Be calm, êl nin..."

You dove out of the dream, shuddering.

A soothing whisper came with as soothing a hand, gliding down your hair. You leaned into the touch, not completely in the wakeful world yet, but already knowing your fears were nothing but a trick of a troubled mind.

You were all troubled these days.

He was sitting in bed – a faintly glowing silhouette, looming over you in the warm half-darkness.

There had been times when you'd been forcing yourself to accept all that loving an Elf entailed.

Including being shy of pressing yourself against that lit-up body, and always afraid of ruining the wonder of it with your too earthly caress.

"You are awake," you regretted speaking up immediately. There was still too much sadness in your voice.

It was already enough that you'd stirred him up mere hours before the patrol.

"I heard you talking in your sleep," his palm was stroking your forehead absent-mindedly.

"Humans sometimes do."

"Do they also cry?" asked he, brushing his fingers against your cheekbone to show you the traces of moisture on them.

"It was a nightmare," you put your best effort into a dismissive shrug.

"A nightmare?"

He'd been having his share of getting familiar with your mortal quirks, too.

The concept of dreaming was not completely alien to his kind, but not to Haldir, as you had come to comprehend. Years upon years of watchful nights and days, when death was the only sleep he could expect, had untaught him to indulge in any kinds of visions. His dreams were twilight and soundlessness.

You mourned for that lost part of him, in secret, knowing only too well that pity came hand in hand with humiliation for him.

He never denied you consolation, but he was having none of yours. And that you had learned to accept, too.

"A bad dream," you said, "Nightmares make us ache, they may be scary or upsetting. But they are not dangerous. You shouldn't be worried."

He nodded slowly.

The night was still deep, and you couldn't boast of the endurance of an Elf. There would be time for explanations tomorrow.

The inches of sheets between you turned an easy distance, and you nestled by his side and closed your eyes, ready for a better dream this time.

But he decided otherwise. You had to return to the reality, where his lips claimed yours with the tentativeness, that was just too uncommon for him. You usual kisses had everything to them – the love, the yearning, the mutual affection, the raw desperation that he withheld till the bitterest of partings, when none of you could tell if there was an hour you would meet again. But now his whole self was radiating uncertainty.