FIC: Cut Bowstrings! (part 2/3)
Oct. 17th, 2010 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charmionTitle: Cut Bowstrings!
Fandom: Tolkien
Genre: Slash. Pretty fluffy.
Pairing: Elrond/Gil-galad
Rating: R
Notes: This is a repost of my first story, that I never put up here. I'm posting it now for archival purposes, slightly edited because I can't leave well-enough alone. It can also be found at King and Herald, with many wonderful other Elrond/Gil-galad stories. Thanks to Stephanie for the beta job.
Teaser: He felt his eyes stinging in his back and he turned, a content but neutral smile on his face. "Any more wishes, my lord?" Gil-galad, regarding him with lazy amusement while he leaned against the rock, was never one to let an opening go to waste. "Many, my friend. And one more challenge."
Previous parts: Part I
PART II
They took a meal together that Gil-galad miraculously conjured up from somewhere out of the folds of his cloak. Meanwhile they merely talked, Gil-galad telling stories from his recent journey, Elrond informing him of the happenings in Lindon. The realm was still fragile and many problems had occurred in the king's absence, but Elrond avoided most of the heavier subjects. He was sure Gil-galad had omitted much in his tales as well, elaborating on the beauty of the places he had seen and the idiosyncrasies of his travel companions rather than saying much about the aim of his travels. There was a hint of sadness in them that made him suspect there had been more to his journey than he led on, but at that moment Elrond did not care. There would be enough time spent on the more serious matters later. These few hours he had Gil-galad to himself and he wanted to make the most of it.
Gil-galad's sudden return and the unspoken declarations he read in his eyes were almost too much to digest. He was elated, if a little unsure of what he saw - and at the same time he could not shake the feeling that he had landed in another world, that he had woken up to an alternate reality, in which secret wishes, only uttered in dreams, were granted with an ease that could not possibly be true.
The only way he could deal with all these confusing developments was simply to ignore them as much as possible. So, in an attempt to maintain some kind of normalcy in his actions, he kept their conversation light and did not touch upon the issue that was uppermost in his mind. Although the words were often on the tip of his tongue, he wanted desperately to hold on to at least part of his determination - to show some restraint and prove he had grown out of his youthful impulses.
In spite of that, he delighted in the fact that they fell with ease back into patterns not so long established, and that years and distance appeared to have done nothing to compromise their familiarity. It just had to be recovered. Also, the soft touches went on. Now and then a soft stroke was administered to him or a gentle tug at a dark strand of hair, and for a while they simply sat in the sun, relishing the warmth and each other's closeness. But underneath the peaceful exterior Elrond felt the tension building, and he was unable to quell the fluttering in his midriff.
Soon they were talking about Erintilion's hunting game again and Elrond's mastering of the king - which, Gil-galad admitted grinning, had been intentional -, and following from that, they debated Elrond's partiality for the longbow.
Gil-galad, lying on his side with his hand tucked under his head, could not see the benefits. "I know the merit of bow and arrow, the Valar know my life has depended on them more than once, but otherwise I seriously abhor these tools. Too many outside influences. If it comes to elements I was taught by the best, but I prefer to have matters in my own hands."
"So you have tried out?"
"I have learned, long ago. In my view it is a fickle instrument. And it will leave dents in your fingers and crass your hands." He drew his face into an almost pouting expression that was slightly comical, and chuckled. Then he looked at Elrond, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "The bow has some definite feminine quality, do you not agree? Such a subtle and elegant weapon. It needs precision, skill and much practice, while strength is only secondary. It is lethal, in the right hands. But if not handled with care, it is prone to burn and sear its master."
"I think the lady Galadriel might not be agreeable with that particular comparison, for one," Elrond remarked drily, trying to keep his composure and produce a frown.
"Galadriel presents herself as a proud exception to many rules. That does not weaken the rules, quite the contrary. And in her case, I would even say the comparison is apt." The king played with a little white flower he had picked, leisurely pulling out the petals one by one. His face showed angelic innocence.
There had been word from Galadriel, whom Elrond had not yet met, to announce that she and Celeborn would come to consult with the king as soon as he returned, and Elrond caught himself looking forward to that exchange of wits. By all accounts Galadriel was a formidable lady, but Gil-galad had proved himself well equipped to counter her. Their meeting would be ...interesting, surely.
"'Tis strange then that Oropher's people prefer these instruments, considering their general level of subtlety," Elrond let slip. He was not particularly impressed by what he had seen of the diplomatic skills of that lord when meeting him and had said so, a notion to which Gil-galad silently agreed. "They love their bows as their own."
The king snapped away the remains of the flower and contently watched it fly. "As they do their women."
"Who all handle bows themselves, and certainly pose no different image while doing so."
"But that is hardly an argument against the comparison." There was a trace of a smirk and innuendo in the king's voice.
Elrond laughed, but did not reply, knowing he was being baited.
"It may be well known where my preferences lie," Gil-galad continued. "I prefer swords, and above all I prefer my spear. Aeglos has never disappointed me." His right hand stroked the slim white spear at his side, and he looked at it lovingly.
Then his eyes slowly slid back to Elrond and came alive. "Maybe you can give me a demonstration of your skills, Elrond," he said slowly, his hand continuing the strokes. His eyes glittered. There was a suggestion in them that Elrond could not fail to notice.
For a moment he stared back boldly and without blinking, and then he broke off their connection to open the clasp at his throat and shrug off his cloak. Standing up, he swirled it around his shoulders and then folded it carefully over his arm.
When he looked back Gil-galad stood as well, still watching, unmoved but intently. Elrond contemplated throwing him the neatly folded package of grey cloth for a second, in the hope of making a crack in his air of untouchable control, but he reconsidered and placed it at a nearby rock. There were other ways. His king was certainly up to something, and he felt giddy with anticipation, though he did not know what it was and what it meant.
"You'll have to provide me with a target," Elrond said. "Something interesting..."
"Something daring?"
"Yes."
"Let me see. That squirrels' nest is no challenge to you?" He pointed at a small dark spot in one of the taller trees across the glade, about twenty feet up.
"I would not wish accidentally to hurt a creature for sport."
"It has not been entered for a while. It seems abandoned."
Elrond did not reply, but swiftly pulled out an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, pointed for a second, and let it fly. The height and wind made it necessary to send it off with high speed, and the arrow hit the hole with a loud twang. It stuck halfway, vibrating.
"No challenge," Gil-galad remarked.
"Another? I wasted an arrow." Elrond turned to him and lifted an eyebrow in question.
"We will retrieve it later. But what about..." The king looked about him, took a few steps and then pointed. "This trunk of wood here?"
Elrond tilted his head to see what he pointed out. "I cannot see it."
"Just behind that rock. But stay, therein lies your challenge."
After spotting the selected trunk, Elrond nodded in acceptance. But instead of staying to watch, Gil-galad strode towards him and placed himself behind Elrond. "I want to see how you do it," he said smoothly.
Elrond did not look back when he took another arrow and nocked it. "I can manage the desired effect if I wish," Elrond commented. "It is considerable and the trouble in this place is the wind." He squinted one eye. "There's a gush in between these large rocks on the right. I will have to wait until it dies down, for it winds its way throughout the glade, and will blow away an arrow as slow as mine needs to be."
He kept still for several long minutes. Gil-galad behind him did not make a sound. Then suddenly he released the arrow, somewhat high up in the air and without much force. In a long curve it flew through the air, spinning, and finally disappearing behind the rocks where the trunk lay. Immediately after it went out of sight, he put another on his bow and released again. The second arrow, aimed slightly higher, disappeared too.
"The first strayed. The second, I think, hit. I am not certain it bit itself into the trunk, however. We will see."
He deliberately kept himself from taking a glance over his shoulder to see a reaction, and maintained an air of decided professionalism when he walked up to the rock and around it. But a small cry of triumph he could not resist when he saw the arrow pointing out of the trunk, firmly fixed in the stem of the dead tree. The other lay somewhat further off.
"You did well." The king's voice sounded low and from close behind, startling him for a moment. He had not heard him following and chided himself. Stay alert, he heard his teacher's cool voice in his head. Enemies do not keep training rosters and show no mercy with those who do. And, he added mentally, neither did kings, even if they were more subtle.
He felt his eyes stinging in his back and he turned, a content but neutral smile on his face. "Any more wishes, my lord?"
Gil-galad, regarding him with lazy amusement while he leaned against the rock, was never one to let an opening go to waste. "Many, my friend. And one more challenge."
He walked back up to their belongings and picked up his beloved spear. Long strides carried him back to Elrond. "I put my weapon up against yours," he said, his lips curled in a smile.
That smile. It was no longer amused, but attentive and rather predatory, Elrond thought. He recognised the expression from long, terse meetings of diplomacy where Gil-galad had to prove his worth as king of a new realm and a doomed kin. Those would be battles of wills as much as a competition in ability. He braced himself mentally, but was looking forward to the exchange with as much excitement as trepidation.
Gil-galad glanced around the glade and then positioned himself on a spot nearby. He motioned to a large tree at the other side. "That will be my target. It is an easy one, I acknowledge, but that is what we need. You have to keep the spear from it. It should not reach the tree. We will do this three times, and then switch."
"I would rather switch after each one," Elrond said casually, not showing his nerves.
Gil-galad's eyebrows shot up. "If you like. It only adds to the excitement. You have the advantage of speed, mass is mine. It is a fair game, is it not?"
"It is." A fair game. Unusual and silly, perhaps, but fair.
As Elrond chose a position to the side, he looked back to see the other weigh the white spear in his hand, then nod when satisfied. Gil-galad stood ready, feet somewhat apart and one in front of the other, loosely holding Aeglos in his right hand. The sun seemed to seek him out, touching his broad form lovingly, and caressing the dark head with soft rays of light. His hair was flowing in the wind. Then he turned his head and flashed a dazzling smile his way. For a moment, he was the focal centre of the universe in Elrond's eyes.
"Ready?"
Pulling himself quickly out of his reverie, Elrond drew his bow. He estimated the path Gil-galad's weapon would take, but he needed a reference point that might help him. Deciding that targeting close to the tree would give him the best chance at hitting anything in mid-air, he chose a point near it and took aim.
"Ready."
He nearly missed the motion of Gil-galad's arm when he threw, so focused was he on his own weapon. Sending the arrow off, he realised immediately it was going to miss spectacularly. This was more difficult than he had expected, he thought, when he saw the white stripe travelling to reach its destination.
"We switch now?" Gil-galad asked, turning to meet his eye while walking up to the tree to retrieve his spear. His face was even, and if he felt triumph, he did not show it.
Elrond tried to equal his expression when he nodded and, after picking up his arrow, walked up to the point the king had occupied before. In their passing, the king dropped an eyelid in a quick wink. Elrond groaned inward when he sought his place and took another arrow out of his quiver. He discovered he really did not want to loose this game.
When Gil-galad gestured he was ready, he pulled his bowstring, took aim and released. A whoosh of air came from his right, and Aeglos hit his arrow, knocking it forcibly out of the air.
"You may need a change of tactics," came a remark from Gil-galad's direction.
"Maybe we should try this moving," Elrond said without looking at him.
"You are daring, love."
The term of endearment did make him turn his head, and he immediately wished he had not.
Obviously at ease, the king was taking in his figure with openly admiring eyes. A smile twitching his lips, he headed for the spot where his spear had hit the ground. Along the way he picked up Elrond's arrow, now snapped in two, and clutching both he lightly ran back up to him. When he handed it over, his fingers touched Elrond's. A shiver ran down the young elf's spine. "I believe this is yours," he said. Then he brought his face a bit closer to Elrond's ear. "Do not up the stakes when you have not mastered the game yet, young one." A tip under Elrond's chin and he was gone again. Elrond stared.
"Second round," Gil-galad called when they had changed places.
Helped by his previous experience, Elrond had more luck this time. He took a slightly different angle and his yellow-feathered arrow, while merely touching the end of the spear, now managed to avert its course sufficiently to have it miss the tree by a foot. He clenched his fist and his eyes shot at the king to see his reaction.
He was rewarded with a smile. "Well done."
"Thank you."
Searching for his arrow, he felt pride well up in his chest. He had made a lot of progress during the years, and he admitted he had longed for an opportunity to show the king his ability. The compliment only added to his focus, and, after having nocked another arrow, he shot it with lightning speed and watched it zing the tree uninhibited.
"It seems we are even. Maybe I should accept your proposition and try it moving. In between these three rocks you may go where you please. What do you think?"
"All right." The whole venture was neigh impossible, Elrond knew, but he did not want to admit his bluff. "Ready?"
Gil-galad nodded and, lifting his spear over his shoulder, began to move around on his toes. He had the air of one enjoying himself immensely.
Keeping one eye on the king, as the older elf pretended to throw several times, he tried to maintain a certain distance and angle that would give him the opportunity to see both him and the tree. They danced around like this for a while, and then Gil-galad's arm swung backwards. This time, he let go. The arrow flew far and wide, but came nowhere near the spear, that marred the tree once more. A tiny pang of disappointment went through Elrond, but when Gil-galad turned to him, he just shrugged.
"That is the end for me, then," he said.
"There is still one to go, young one. Your concession is a bit premature. We can still draw."
"But I was not..." Elrond stopped when he saw Gil-galad laughing.
"I know. I seem to remember you hardly ever do. Well, shall we take our places?"
Elrond nodded, but was struck when Gil-galad marched up to him and positioned himself close behind, wickedness painted in the lines of his face. "Why... You..."
"This seems a fine spot. Please continue."
"But you can never..."
"No?" Gil-galad cocked an eyebrow.
"You can not throw faster than I can shoot," Elrond finally said.
"Mmm... I may go wherever I please. It pleases me here. Do continue."
Without real conviction Elrond began to move, but he looked over his shoulder every five seconds, seeing Gil-galad on his tail every time, a smile twitching the large mouth. What was he up to now? Somehow the whole situation made him feel utterly ridiculous; as if he had been put upon a stage for a charade in front of a whole audience who knew what would happen, while he had no clue. He should end this.
Because it was the only thing he could do to save his dignity, he raised his bow to shoot.
Immediately he heard Gil-galad's soft voice in his ear. "I know but one way to a certain defeat," that voice said. Something white was swung round him, pressed against his stomach, and he felt himself being pulled back with some violence against a hard body, a hot body, a body that moulded to welcome his. He dropped the arrow and was drawn closer, even closer, and at last held tight.
"I caught you," Gil-galad's breath was hot on his cheek. "At last, I caught you."
***
| Part I | Part III |
Fandom: Tolkien
Genre: Slash. Pretty fluffy.
Pairing: Elrond/Gil-galad
Rating: R
Notes: This is a repost of my first story, that I never put up here. I'm posting it now for archival purposes, slightly edited because I can't leave well-enough alone. It can also be found at King and Herald, with many wonderful other Elrond/Gil-galad stories. Thanks to Stephanie for the beta job.
Teaser: He felt his eyes stinging in his back and he turned, a content but neutral smile on his face. "Any more wishes, my lord?" Gil-galad, regarding him with lazy amusement while he leaned against the rock, was never one to let an opening go to waste. "Many, my friend. And one more challenge."
Previous parts: Part I
PART II
They took a meal together that Gil-galad miraculously conjured up from somewhere out of the folds of his cloak. Meanwhile they merely talked, Gil-galad telling stories from his recent journey, Elrond informing him of the happenings in Lindon. The realm was still fragile and many problems had occurred in the king's absence, but Elrond avoided most of the heavier subjects. He was sure Gil-galad had omitted much in his tales as well, elaborating on the beauty of the places he had seen and the idiosyncrasies of his travel companions rather than saying much about the aim of his travels. There was a hint of sadness in them that made him suspect there had been more to his journey than he led on, but at that moment Elrond did not care. There would be enough time spent on the more serious matters later. These few hours he had Gil-galad to himself and he wanted to make the most of it.
Gil-galad's sudden return and the unspoken declarations he read in his eyes were almost too much to digest. He was elated, if a little unsure of what he saw - and at the same time he could not shake the feeling that he had landed in another world, that he had woken up to an alternate reality, in which secret wishes, only uttered in dreams, were granted with an ease that could not possibly be true.
The only way he could deal with all these confusing developments was simply to ignore them as much as possible. So, in an attempt to maintain some kind of normalcy in his actions, he kept their conversation light and did not touch upon the issue that was uppermost in his mind. Although the words were often on the tip of his tongue, he wanted desperately to hold on to at least part of his determination - to show some restraint and prove he had grown out of his youthful impulses.
In spite of that, he delighted in the fact that they fell with ease back into patterns not so long established, and that years and distance appeared to have done nothing to compromise their familiarity. It just had to be recovered. Also, the soft touches went on. Now and then a soft stroke was administered to him or a gentle tug at a dark strand of hair, and for a while they simply sat in the sun, relishing the warmth and each other's closeness. But underneath the peaceful exterior Elrond felt the tension building, and he was unable to quell the fluttering in his midriff.
Soon they were talking about Erintilion's hunting game again and Elrond's mastering of the king - which, Gil-galad admitted grinning, had been intentional -, and following from that, they debated Elrond's partiality for the longbow.
Gil-galad, lying on his side with his hand tucked under his head, could not see the benefits. "I know the merit of bow and arrow, the Valar know my life has depended on them more than once, but otherwise I seriously abhor these tools. Too many outside influences. If it comes to elements I was taught by the best, but I prefer to have matters in my own hands."
"So you have tried out?"
"I have learned, long ago. In my view it is a fickle instrument. And it will leave dents in your fingers and crass your hands." He drew his face into an almost pouting expression that was slightly comical, and chuckled. Then he looked at Elrond, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "The bow has some definite feminine quality, do you not agree? Such a subtle and elegant weapon. It needs precision, skill and much practice, while strength is only secondary. It is lethal, in the right hands. But if not handled with care, it is prone to burn and sear its master."
"I think the lady Galadriel might not be agreeable with that particular comparison, for one," Elrond remarked drily, trying to keep his composure and produce a frown.
"Galadriel presents herself as a proud exception to many rules. That does not weaken the rules, quite the contrary. And in her case, I would even say the comparison is apt." The king played with a little white flower he had picked, leisurely pulling out the petals one by one. His face showed angelic innocence.
There had been word from Galadriel, whom Elrond had not yet met, to announce that she and Celeborn would come to consult with the king as soon as he returned, and Elrond caught himself looking forward to that exchange of wits. By all accounts Galadriel was a formidable lady, but Gil-galad had proved himself well equipped to counter her. Their meeting would be ...interesting, surely.
"'Tis strange then that Oropher's people prefer these instruments, considering their general level of subtlety," Elrond let slip. He was not particularly impressed by what he had seen of the diplomatic skills of that lord when meeting him and had said so, a notion to which Gil-galad silently agreed. "They love their bows as their own."
The king snapped away the remains of the flower and contently watched it fly. "As they do their women."
"Who all handle bows themselves, and certainly pose no different image while doing so."
"But that is hardly an argument against the comparison." There was a trace of a smirk and innuendo in the king's voice.
Elrond laughed, but did not reply, knowing he was being baited.
"It may be well known where my preferences lie," Gil-galad continued. "I prefer swords, and above all I prefer my spear. Aeglos has never disappointed me." His right hand stroked the slim white spear at his side, and he looked at it lovingly.
Then his eyes slowly slid back to Elrond and came alive. "Maybe you can give me a demonstration of your skills, Elrond," he said slowly, his hand continuing the strokes. His eyes glittered. There was a suggestion in them that Elrond could not fail to notice.
For a moment he stared back boldly and without blinking, and then he broke off their connection to open the clasp at his throat and shrug off his cloak. Standing up, he swirled it around his shoulders and then folded it carefully over his arm.
When he looked back Gil-galad stood as well, still watching, unmoved but intently. Elrond contemplated throwing him the neatly folded package of grey cloth for a second, in the hope of making a crack in his air of untouchable control, but he reconsidered and placed it at a nearby rock. There were other ways. His king was certainly up to something, and he felt giddy with anticipation, though he did not know what it was and what it meant.
"You'll have to provide me with a target," Elrond said. "Something interesting..."
"Something daring?"
"Yes."
"Let me see. That squirrels' nest is no challenge to you?" He pointed at a small dark spot in one of the taller trees across the glade, about twenty feet up.
"I would not wish accidentally to hurt a creature for sport."
"It has not been entered for a while. It seems abandoned."
Elrond did not reply, but swiftly pulled out an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, pointed for a second, and let it fly. The height and wind made it necessary to send it off with high speed, and the arrow hit the hole with a loud twang. It stuck halfway, vibrating.
"No challenge," Gil-galad remarked.
"Another? I wasted an arrow." Elrond turned to him and lifted an eyebrow in question.
"We will retrieve it later. But what about..." The king looked about him, took a few steps and then pointed. "This trunk of wood here?"
Elrond tilted his head to see what he pointed out. "I cannot see it."
"Just behind that rock. But stay, therein lies your challenge."
After spotting the selected trunk, Elrond nodded in acceptance. But instead of staying to watch, Gil-galad strode towards him and placed himself behind Elrond. "I want to see how you do it," he said smoothly.
Elrond did not look back when he took another arrow and nocked it. "I can manage the desired effect if I wish," Elrond commented. "It is considerable and the trouble in this place is the wind." He squinted one eye. "There's a gush in between these large rocks on the right. I will have to wait until it dies down, for it winds its way throughout the glade, and will blow away an arrow as slow as mine needs to be."
He kept still for several long minutes. Gil-galad behind him did not make a sound. Then suddenly he released the arrow, somewhat high up in the air and without much force. In a long curve it flew through the air, spinning, and finally disappearing behind the rocks where the trunk lay. Immediately after it went out of sight, he put another on his bow and released again. The second arrow, aimed slightly higher, disappeared too.
"The first strayed. The second, I think, hit. I am not certain it bit itself into the trunk, however. We will see."
He deliberately kept himself from taking a glance over his shoulder to see a reaction, and maintained an air of decided professionalism when he walked up to the rock and around it. But a small cry of triumph he could not resist when he saw the arrow pointing out of the trunk, firmly fixed in the stem of the dead tree. The other lay somewhat further off.
"You did well." The king's voice sounded low and from close behind, startling him for a moment. He had not heard him following and chided himself. Stay alert, he heard his teacher's cool voice in his head. Enemies do not keep training rosters and show no mercy with those who do. And, he added mentally, neither did kings, even if they were more subtle.
He felt his eyes stinging in his back and he turned, a content but neutral smile on his face. "Any more wishes, my lord?"
Gil-galad, regarding him with lazy amusement while he leaned against the rock, was never one to let an opening go to waste. "Many, my friend. And one more challenge."
He walked back up to their belongings and picked up his beloved spear. Long strides carried him back to Elrond. "I put my weapon up against yours," he said, his lips curled in a smile.
That smile. It was no longer amused, but attentive and rather predatory, Elrond thought. He recognised the expression from long, terse meetings of diplomacy where Gil-galad had to prove his worth as king of a new realm and a doomed kin. Those would be battles of wills as much as a competition in ability. He braced himself mentally, but was looking forward to the exchange with as much excitement as trepidation.
Gil-galad glanced around the glade and then positioned himself on a spot nearby. He motioned to a large tree at the other side. "That will be my target. It is an easy one, I acknowledge, but that is what we need. You have to keep the spear from it. It should not reach the tree. We will do this three times, and then switch."
"I would rather switch after each one," Elrond said casually, not showing his nerves.
Gil-galad's eyebrows shot up. "If you like. It only adds to the excitement. You have the advantage of speed, mass is mine. It is a fair game, is it not?"
"It is." A fair game. Unusual and silly, perhaps, but fair.
As Elrond chose a position to the side, he looked back to see the other weigh the white spear in his hand, then nod when satisfied. Gil-galad stood ready, feet somewhat apart and one in front of the other, loosely holding Aeglos in his right hand. The sun seemed to seek him out, touching his broad form lovingly, and caressing the dark head with soft rays of light. His hair was flowing in the wind. Then he turned his head and flashed a dazzling smile his way. For a moment, he was the focal centre of the universe in Elrond's eyes.
"Ready?"
Pulling himself quickly out of his reverie, Elrond drew his bow. He estimated the path Gil-galad's weapon would take, but he needed a reference point that might help him. Deciding that targeting close to the tree would give him the best chance at hitting anything in mid-air, he chose a point near it and took aim.
"Ready."
He nearly missed the motion of Gil-galad's arm when he threw, so focused was he on his own weapon. Sending the arrow off, he realised immediately it was going to miss spectacularly. This was more difficult than he had expected, he thought, when he saw the white stripe travelling to reach its destination.
"We switch now?" Gil-galad asked, turning to meet his eye while walking up to the tree to retrieve his spear. His face was even, and if he felt triumph, he did not show it.
Elrond tried to equal his expression when he nodded and, after picking up his arrow, walked up to the point the king had occupied before. In their passing, the king dropped an eyelid in a quick wink. Elrond groaned inward when he sought his place and took another arrow out of his quiver. He discovered he really did not want to loose this game.
When Gil-galad gestured he was ready, he pulled his bowstring, took aim and released. A whoosh of air came from his right, and Aeglos hit his arrow, knocking it forcibly out of the air.
"You may need a change of tactics," came a remark from Gil-galad's direction.
"Maybe we should try this moving," Elrond said without looking at him.
"You are daring, love."
The term of endearment did make him turn his head, and he immediately wished he had not.
Obviously at ease, the king was taking in his figure with openly admiring eyes. A smile twitching his lips, he headed for the spot where his spear had hit the ground. Along the way he picked up Elrond's arrow, now snapped in two, and clutching both he lightly ran back up to him. When he handed it over, his fingers touched Elrond's. A shiver ran down the young elf's spine. "I believe this is yours," he said. Then he brought his face a bit closer to Elrond's ear. "Do not up the stakes when you have not mastered the game yet, young one." A tip under Elrond's chin and he was gone again. Elrond stared.
"Second round," Gil-galad called when they had changed places.
Helped by his previous experience, Elrond had more luck this time. He took a slightly different angle and his yellow-feathered arrow, while merely touching the end of the spear, now managed to avert its course sufficiently to have it miss the tree by a foot. He clenched his fist and his eyes shot at the king to see his reaction.
He was rewarded with a smile. "Well done."
"Thank you."
Searching for his arrow, he felt pride well up in his chest. He had made a lot of progress during the years, and he admitted he had longed for an opportunity to show the king his ability. The compliment only added to his focus, and, after having nocked another arrow, he shot it with lightning speed and watched it zing the tree uninhibited.
"It seems we are even. Maybe I should accept your proposition and try it moving. In between these three rocks you may go where you please. What do you think?"
"All right." The whole venture was neigh impossible, Elrond knew, but he did not want to admit his bluff. "Ready?"
Gil-galad nodded and, lifting his spear over his shoulder, began to move around on his toes. He had the air of one enjoying himself immensely.
Keeping one eye on the king, as the older elf pretended to throw several times, he tried to maintain a certain distance and angle that would give him the opportunity to see both him and the tree. They danced around like this for a while, and then Gil-galad's arm swung backwards. This time, he let go. The arrow flew far and wide, but came nowhere near the spear, that marred the tree once more. A tiny pang of disappointment went through Elrond, but when Gil-galad turned to him, he just shrugged.
"That is the end for me, then," he said.
"There is still one to go, young one. Your concession is a bit premature. We can still draw."
"But I was not..." Elrond stopped when he saw Gil-galad laughing.
"I know. I seem to remember you hardly ever do. Well, shall we take our places?"
Elrond nodded, but was struck when Gil-galad marched up to him and positioned himself close behind, wickedness painted in the lines of his face. "Why... You..."
"This seems a fine spot. Please continue."
"But you can never..."
"No?" Gil-galad cocked an eyebrow.
"You can not throw faster than I can shoot," Elrond finally said.
"Mmm... I may go wherever I please. It pleases me here. Do continue."
Without real conviction Elrond began to move, but he looked over his shoulder every five seconds, seeing Gil-galad on his tail every time, a smile twitching the large mouth. What was he up to now? Somehow the whole situation made him feel utterly ridiculous; as if he had been put upon a stage for a charade in front of a whole audience who knew what would happen, while he had no clue. He should end this.
Because it was the only thing he could do to save his dignity, he raised his bow to shoot.
Immediately he heard Gil-galad's soft voice in his ear. "I know but one way to a certain defeat," that voice said. Something white was swung round him, pressed against his stomach, and he felt himself being pulled back with some violence against a hard body, a hot body, a body that moulded to welcome his. He dropped the arrow and was drawn closer, even closer, and at last held tight.
"I caught you," Gil-galad's breath was hot on his cheek. "At last, I caught you."
***
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