An Impossible Love by LadyBrooke
Mar. 10th, 2012 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladybrooke posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge: Crack Pairings: Feanor/Turin and Economy:Scarcity.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama, General
Rating: Adult, to be on the safe side
Warnings: One sided slash, One guy getting off (to put it nicely)
Characters: Turin II of Gondor, Feanor (referenced)
Pairings: one sided Feanor/Turin
Summary: He knows that his family wouldn't understand, but he can't help himself.
Turin sat in the dark, with only a flame flickering beside him giving him light to read by. The scarcity of books relating to the First Age was hard for him to stomach. If he had been a lesser man, and not the Steward of Gondor, it would have been hard and expensive for him to feed his obsession. Since he was however - and none of his advisors knew the true reason why he was gathering books about it - he had been able to amass quite a collection. Now, he would select one to take to bed with him.
It was a good thing his wife had been dead now for several years - she had never been able to understand his need to have books with him. It was perhaps a good thing she had never noticed that all the books he brought to their bed had centered around him. She had been a good woman, and perhaps had deserved better than he could give her. It was the least he could do to hide if from her that he didn't love her.
His son and grandson as well had no idea who he really loved. Poor Turgon, who had no idea that he was named such because it was the closest he could come to naming his son after one of his love's family. And dear Ecthelion would be positively scandalized by the idea, afraid of the scandal it would bring upon the family. And yet, he couldn't stop sneaking around the Citadel late at night.
He had finally reached his room from his office. Stripping down, he climbed into bed and began to read the book. The walls were thick, a very good thing this night, as he couldn't restrain the moans that came out of his mouth as he grew more and more in thrall of how intelligent his love was. As he read the few quotes that had been preserved, he slowly stroked himself all over, imaging that it was someone else stroking him. Finally, it all grew too much, and he gave in to the feelings engulfing him, crying out in the dark. And when he finally was able to focus again, he reread the lines that had first captured his imagination.
"Fëanor was the mightiest in skill of word and of hand, more learned than his brothers; his spirit burned as a flame..."
Notes: Last line obviously doesn't belong to me, all credit to Tolkien's skills.
...I've just now worked up the courage to submit something to the community. Yes, I'm that bad. Apologies to huinare for making her read it on dA about 30 minutes before I submitted it here.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama, General
Rating: Adult, to be on the safe side
Warnings: One sided slash, One guy getting off (to put it nicely)
Characters: Turin II of Gondor, Feanor (referenced)
Pairings: one sided Feanor/Turin
Summary: He knows that his family wouldn't understand, but he can't help himself.
Turin sat in the dark, with only a flame flickering beside him giving him light to read by. The scarcity of books relating to the First Age was hard for him to stomach. If he had been a lesser man, and not the Steward of Gondor, it would have been hard and expensive for him to feed his obsession. Since he was however - and none of his advisors knew the true reason why he was gathering books about it - he had been able to amass quite a collection. Now, he would select one to take to bed with him.
It was a good thing his wife had been dead now for several years - she had never been able to understand his need to have books with him. It was perhaps a good thing she had never noticed that all the books he brought to their bed had centered around him. She had been a good woman, and perhaps had deserved better than he could give her. It was the least he could do to hide if from her that he didn't love her.
His son and grandson as well had no idea who he really loved. Poor Turgon, who had no idea that he was named such because it was the closest he could come to naming his son after one of his love's family. And dear Ecthelion would be positively scandalized by the idea, afraid of the scandal it would bring upon the family. And yet, he couldn't stop sneaking around the Citadel late at night.
He had finally reached his room from his office. Stripping down, he climbed into bed and began to read the book. The walls were thick, a very good thing this night, as he couldn't restrain the moans that came out of his mouth as he grew more and more in thrall of how intelligent his love was. As he read the few quotes that had been preserved, he slowly stroked himself all over, imaging that it was someone else stroking him. Finally, it all grew too much, and he gave in to the feelings engulfing him, crying out in the dark. And when he finally was able to focus again, he reread the lines that had first captured his imagination.
"Fëanor was the mightiest in skill of word and of hand, more learned than his brothers; his spirit burned as a flame..."
Notes: Last line obviously doesn't belong to me, all credit to Tolkien's skills.
...I've just now worked up the courage to submit something to the community. Yes, I'm that bad. Apologies to huinare for making her read it on dA about 30 minutes before I submitted it here.
