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“Then let’s go upstairs and have a glass while these ruffians embarrass themselves, shall we? And while we’re at it, I’d love to pick your brain about the kind of technology the Blue Hills group is using, I’ve always been interested…”

* * *

It was deep afternoon, the late summer air warm and heavy on their skin. Golden light was filtering in through a dense forest canopy wrought with birdsong, and the rush of a nearby stream mingled with the scolding of squirrels. It was almost improbably idyllic, and Celegorm was looking around wide-eyed, trailing a ways behind Oromë as he tried to take in everything at once.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“I can.” Oromë checked a trail marker and nodded towards the left fork. “Your father has never been a fan of Manwë, even when it comes to his philanthropic ventures. So he’d hardly bring his sons to the Súlimo Foundation Wilderness Preserve, would he?”

“Yeah, guess not.” Celegorm was still staring around, delighted. “How is it so quiet? I can’t even hear the road…”

“It won’t be quiet for long.”

They rounded a bend, and Celegorm immediately saw what Oromë meant. There was an enclosure up ahead, just off the trail, and on a railing was perched a massive golden eagle. It saw them coming and let out an ear-splitting cry.

“Wow.” Celegorm stopped dead.

Oromë kept walking. “Thorondor is still going strong, I see.”

“Who’s – ”

“The eagle. Manwë rescued him years ago, and by the time he was back to full strength, he was too comfortable around humans to return to the wild. But most of the birds here will be rehabilitated and then re-introduced to their natural habitat.”

Past Thorondor’s enclosure were dozens more, and Celegorm slowly took them all in. Owls and hawks and more eagles, most of them ignoring their visitors, and one great scabby-headed vulture, who blinked at them in some curiosity.

“This is the part of the preserve that Manwë likes the best, of course,” Oromë was saying, as Celegorm drifted around the pens in a kind of happy fugue. “The Raptor Rehabilitation Center. But when we first talked about setting aside this tract of wilderness, I was more concerned for – ”

“Wait,” said Celegorm, catching up with Oromë, “you were involved in this? How? How well do you know Manwë?” The name came to his tongue with some difficulty; it was so odd for him to hear and speak the name without hatred after the years of family rancor following his father’s trial.

The Honorable Judge Súlimo, he could still hear his father saying bitterly, Infallible, intractable, and insufferable as ever.

It’s because of him, Curufin would say sometimes, long after Fëanor had stopped bringing it up, it’s because of HIM, that judge, that Manwë, that father had to stop his work. If it wasn’t for him we might still have -

Celegorm tried to shake free of the memories, but despite his determination not to care about Fëanor anymore, he couldn’t help a surge of dislike at the name. He fought the reflex, and instead listened to what Oromë was saying.

“He and I met while I was still traveling with the team – he sponsored a charity event we participated in – and became friends. We bonded over a shared love of the outdoors, and a mind for conservation. There was even a period where I thought I’d retire from rugby and go into forest management -an idea he supported - but fate had other plans, I suppose.” Oromë ran a hand absently over the trunk of a tree as they kept walking down the path. “At any rate, I talked him into buying and preserving this wilderness area, and while other philanthropies dominate his time now that he’s semi-retired from the bench, he has always had a soft spot for birds and birding, and the raptors are his particular favorites. My favorites, on the other hand…”

Celegorm gasped audibly as they came in sight of several great grey figures loping through the trees in another enclosure, and Oromë grinned at the look on his face. “Say hello to the wolves of the northeast.”

For the next several hours, Celegorm barely spoke, completely fixated on the animals being rehabilitated at the center: some being readied for reintroduction, but many of them permanent residents rescued from zoos or private collections. He asked avid questions, most of which Oromë could answer. The two of them crouched still enough next to the fence that one wolf came up to investigate while Oromë murmured low words to it and Celegorm momentarily stopped breathing in awe as the wolf sniffed him through the fence.

“This is like paradise,” he said at last. They got to their feet, and Oromë slipped his arm around Celegorm’s waist as they walked off, back towards the birds of prey. Celegorm leaned into him, winding an arm around him in turn. “This is the best place I’ve ever been. Damn, I’d kill to work somewhere like this.”

“You could, you know,” said Oromë, and when Celegorm looked at him, surprised, Oromë smiled. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

The unhidden heart

Chapter Notes

0. So this chapter is 2k words longer than it was supposed to be, probably longer than it should be, but hey, apparently I’m a verbose motherfucker.

1. Warnings: relationship talk, sexuality talk, an explicitly described sexual act, and our first Maia.

2. I accidentally fell into a hole called the Uniform Code while researching Marine stuff, and now know so much about what Ecthelion is wearing and what he’s not allowed to do while wearing it that I can tell you, 100%, that he’s going to get court martialed.

3. [ETA] Dang, I meant to post this when the chapter went up! Oops. Anyway, for anyone who's interested and didn't catch it on Tumblr, I wrote a short coda to the Chapter 58 party describing the morning after in Casa Feanorion. And then the anon who prompted me for it made me an AMAZING floorplan of the house based on a rough sketch I did ages ago. Check 'em out.

Curufin was standing in front of the whiteboard he’d hung on one wall, pondering the grid he’d mapped out on it, when Finrod came in.

“Hello.”

“Hm.” Curufin didn’t look over, but jerked his head in Finrod’s direction in acknowledgement. He continued to scan down the columns of writing on the board, his lips moving silently as he read.

Finrod set down his bag and came up behind Curufin. He laid his fingers on Curufin’s shoulder, a silent query, and when Curufin nodded absently, he drew close, resting his chin on Curufin’s shoulder and threading his arms around Curufin’s waist. He took in the densely covered whiteboard. “Planning for the school year?”

“Mm. Yes.”

“Taking it easy this semester, are you?”

Curufin opened his mouth to articulate an affronted protest, but then he glanced over and saw the sparkle in Finrod’s eyes. “If you call a six class course-load ‘taking it easy’, then yes, yes I am.”

“So scholastically unambitious,” mused Finrod. He tightened his arms around Curufin’s waist and nuzzled at his ear. “Can I hire you as my TA? I could use someone with this level of organization.”

“A TA for a TA,” said Curufin, relaxing slightly into Finrod’s arms. “What a distinguished prospect.”

“I know,” Finrod said. “And I wouldn’t even pay you.”

“You certainly know how to sell a man on a position, Felagund,” said Curufin, half turning, and Finrod smiled.

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

Curufin rolled his eyes and put his arms around Finrod’s neck. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Finrod’s, effectively stifling Finrod’s pleased smile, and Finrod kissed him back enthusiastically.

When they broke apart, Finrod said, “I missed you.”

“It has not been that long.”

“Long enough for me to miss you.”

“Needy, are you?”

“Terribly.” But Finrod didn’t seem at all put out, and simply kissed Curufin again, until Curufin nudged him towards the bed. They stretched out next to each other; Finrod lay belly down on the bedspread with his arms folded over Curufin’s chest and his chin resting on his arms as he regarded Curufin with bright blue eyes. Curufin propped his head up against the pillows, his knees up, and let his hands settle against Finrod’s elbows.

“So.”

“So.”

“School starts soon.”

“It does.” Curufin thought of the unwritten lists he kept, in addition to the ones scrawled on his whiteboard, and one thing in particular he had told himself to remember. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?”

“You can tell already my schedule is going to be full and my days busy. I am not going to have the same kind of flexibility I’ve had this summer. I’m not going to have much in the way of free time.”

“I understand. I anticipated that. I’ll be fairly busy as well – Olórin expects me to start writing this semester, in addition to my responsibilities to the department.” Finrod rolled his eyes, half at Olórin and half at himself. “So I imagine my own free time will be at rather a premium.”

“Right. I just wanted to…warn you that I won’t be as available. I will have a lot of work.”

“I absolutely understand, Curvo. I know you need to prioritize your work.”

“Yes.” Curufin looked at him, and then surprised them both by saying, “But I don’t want to deprioritize you.”

Finrod stared at him. “Oh.” There was something so profoundly touched and surprised in his tone that Curufin felt embarrassed. He started to say something, but Finrod rested his chin on his arms again and blinked slowly at him. “You don’t have to deprioritize me, but I certainly don’t want you to feel stressed and torn between work you need to do and not wanting me to feel neglected.” He thought a moment. “But I think with a schedule as organized as yours, we can make something that works for both of us. Maybe have some scheduled time together.”

“Scheduled time?” Curufin glanced at his lists.

“Yes. At least once a week, maybe more if time allows. Once we have a sense of our schedules, we can see if a weekend day works, or a weeknight, or what. But I think aiming to spend at least a regular hour together, even in the midst of whatever else, will be good.” Finrod smiled. “I know it will certainly be beneficial to me.”

“Scheduled time,” said Curufin slowly. It appealed to him, which historically would mean it wouldn’t appeal to others. “Do people do that?”

“Probably. But even if they don’t, do either of us care if it’s what people do or not?”

“No. But are you sure you don’t find that too…cold?” It was a familiar word to Curufin.

“Not at all, I think it makes sense. We each have obligations in addition to wanting to spend time together, and I think planning out structured ways to balance responsibility with pleasure can be a very effective way to find that balance.”

“Huh.” Curufin was finding himself re-evaluating certain of his assumptions about Finrod. “Well, then. I suppose we shall coordinate our schedules and find a time that works for us both once the semester starts.”

“I suppose we shall.” Finrod’s eyes were sparkling again.

Curufin flicked down to another item in his mental list and took a deep breath. “There’s another thing I wanted to discuss.” His tone must have conveyed something to Finrod, because Finrod immediately turned attentive and serious.

“What’s that?”

“It is likewise about…us.” Curufin hated the turn of phrase, but tried not to let his irritation and discomfort rise. He’d thought this through; he knew how to say it; he’d even written it down at one point. “I wished to express my appreciation for how you have accommodated me; you have been very considerate in our physical interactions. But I have reviewed these experiences and I realize that all concessions have been on your end, rather than mine. I do not wish to find myself beholden to you.”

Finrod pushed himself up onto his knees. He looked a little stricken, and took Curufin’s hands in his. “Curvo. I don’t do any of this because I am trying to chalk up favors you owe me. I do it because I want to do it, and because I want you to be as comfortable and secure as possible. That is what makes me happy, and I am only interested in doing things that make you happy as well. Relationships should not be about feeling beholden.”

“But I do. Feel it, I mean.” Curufin looked at his fingers in Finrod’s hands. “Maybe that’s the wrong word. It is more that I feel there’s an imbalance, and it does not seem fair or right – one should not give more than the other, correct? Listen, I can…I can try other things. I don’t want you to be the only one making compromises.”

As Finrod opened his mouth, still looking concerned, Curufin pushed on resolutely. “I have been thinking about what I do and don’t want to do, and I think maybe I’d be open to doing more.” It was less polished than how he’d rehearsed it, and he wasn’t used to talking so freely to anyone who wasn’t Celegorm, and certainly not on such a topic, but he plunged on anyway. “There are…there are things I don’t want to try, but there are things I might, and I wanted to ask you about what…you might be interested in.” To his intense frustration, he felt himself blushing.

“You want to know what I’d be interested in doing, physically?” asked Finrod. He was still holding Curufin’s hands, and Curufin sat up so that they were closer together.

“Yes.” He was holding his breath, he realized. “If you told me some of what you want, I think I could try it. Depending.”

Finrod reached out one hand and stroked his cheek lightly, fingertips lingering gently on the faint white scar under his eye. “I quite like kissing you,” he said, softly. “I like touching you, too, very much. There is one thing…one thing I have thought about, that I would enjoy, if you were amenable.”

Curufin shivered involuntarily, more anxious than he’d admit. “What’s that?”

“I would like to go down on you.” Finrod’s voice was very clear, his gaze very steady, and he smiled as Curufin blinked at him in surprise. He had been expecting Finrod to ask for Curufin to perform some act on him; this was unexpected.

“On me. You want to… With your mouth, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Curufin couldn’t stop the question.

Finrod didn’t seem to mind the appalled look on his face. “Because I think you might enjoy it. And I’ll enjoy watching you enjoy it.”

“How?” Curufin felt, once again, utterly at sea. He could no more imagine the appeal of putting someone else’s genitals in his mouth than he could imagine what it would be like to have four legs. “What could you possibly get from that?”

Finrod shrugged. “I like being able to make you feel good. Watching you, feeling you react – it turns me on. You’re very sexy when you’re turned on.”

Curufin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You’re sexy all the time, of course, but it is very, very hot watching you respond to the things I am doing.” A faint flush rose in Finrod’s cheeks but he continued evenly. “Sex is a thing that can feel very good, and I like giving those good feelings to you, because you….deserve to feel good. Because you are someone I care about, very deeply, and you deserve good things, good feelings, and I like providing them. And it is very gratifying, knowing that I am doing something that gives you pleasure.”