Chasing the Stag by Amaranth

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Chapter 3 – Rude Awakening

As I did not mention Celegorm’s looks before this chapter, will put this remark here. I’m writing Celegorm with dark hair. Just thought I should point it out, as there are discussions if he is blond or dark-haired because of the different ways one can interpret "Celegorm the Fair". I let Sullhach make the choice, as I’m writing the story for her, but just as me she imagines Celegorm with dark hair, but particularly pale (fair) skin.

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Chapter 3 – Rude Awakening

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Celegorm woke to a soft breeze ghosting its fingers across his naked skin in a light caress, but he refrained from moving just yet. The warm body in his arms melded perfectly into his embrace and the steady heartbeat and calm breathing of his companion kept him at ease. Casting a quick glance about, Celegorm realized their wild pursuit had ended just where it had begun, in the clearing with the pond. Faithful Huan dozed beside his discarded pack and weapons beneath a tree a few paces away from them. Sensing his master’s attention, the furry head rose immediately and the hound’s dark eyes stared at him for a moment before, curiosity sated, the head sank back onto the large front paws.

Content that their sanctuary was safely guarded, Celegorm turned his attention back to the sleeping body in his arms; taking his time to commit every detail to memory. He was magnificent; though on the rare occasions they had crossed each other’s path in the past, Celegorm had never noticed…no, he had never bothered to truly look. His eyes, even unfocussed in peaceful slumber, sparkled like forest pools in a multitude of shades of green; deep and full of secrets. The fall of fawn brown hair, tangled by their rough coupling, reached past his waist and had fanned out on the grass, save for a few strands which lay draped across his body. Small leaves caught in the silken strands gave the illusion of leafy vines coiling from his head and made him appear like a woodland spirit, a part of the forest itself. He even carried its scent. Beneath the slight overlay of cooled perspiration and the heavy musk of sex, the alluring fragrance of leaves, moss, fern and herbs clung to his skin and hair; and Celegorm inhaled deeply of it.

He let his gaze wander down across narrow hips and long, shapely legs. They were of similar height, though his companion’s frame was a bit more slender. Yet the muscle and sinew beneath the alabaster skin left no doubt regarding the strength and endurance of the lithe body. Celegorm had gotten a fair taste of this physical prowess during the pursuit and the following struggle, only his anger-fuelled willpower had bought him his victory in the end. Slender fingers were woven into Celegorm’s hair, a palm resting on his back; lightly calloused from wielding sword and bow, just as his own hands were. The skin Celegorm’s fingers touched was soft and warm, the marks of their feral encounter still visible, marring the perfect paleness; though they were beautiful in their own savage way.

Absently, Celegorm trailed a fingertip along an angry red bite mark on the other’s throat, remembering the metallic tang of blood on his tongue and the outcry of his companion which sealed his triumph and the other’s surrender. A sigh scattered his musings as the body in his arms stirred, stretching, before a groan and muffled curse proclaimed his companion awake.

“Sore?” Celegorm did not bother to hide the taunt in his voice, which earned him another, far ruder curse and a furious glare. “I deem it a just punishment for playing me for a fool. A punishment I, for my part, thoroughly enjoyed meting out. I cannot recall thee complaining when thou didst writhe and moan beneath me, but I clearly recall thy pleading for more.”

“Thou arrogant…” the rest of the reply was lost when Celegorm crushed his lips against his companion’s, silencing him with a possessive kiss that was fervently returned after a moment of proud defiance.

“Who would have guessed that the elusive forest sprite haunting me was no less than thee, Beleg Cúthalion?” Celegorm murmured against the elf’s lips when they finally parted for breath. “And who would have thought thy stern bearing masked such a feral passion? Thou didst truly surprise me.”

“Who would have thought thy annoying arrogance masked…well, there is no more to thee than this, Celegorm Fëanorion! And it surprises me not a bit,” Beleg shot back sarcastically, though inwardly he cringed. There was more, he had seen it; and it had drawn him to Celegorm.

Freeing himself of Celegorm’s embrace, Beleg rose to his feet, wincing when his sore behind protested. Turning away, he stepped into the pond, suddenly feeling the need to wash the scent and sticky remnants of their encounter from his skin. Wading in waist deep, the cool water immediately eased the soreness, but Beleg bit back his sigh of relief; he would not relinquish his dignity under the Noldo’s lingering attention…storm-grey, slightly green-tinged eyes, a mesmerizing gaze which seemed to devour him. Ignoring Celegorm, he started to wash, trying to blot out the memory of calloused hands and demanding lips roaming his body, closing his eyes against the betraying marks which glared at him from the expanse of his skin.

Soft splashing alerted Beleg of the Noldo’s presence in the pond, but he resisted the urge to lash out when he felt Celegorm step up behind him. Unbidden, the Noldo began to pluck leaves and small twigs from Beleg’s hair before carefully smoothing out the long mane until it was free of tangles. The gentle gesture took Beleg by surprise and he steeled himself for more of Celegorm's mockery; yet the Noldo remained silent and eventually Beleg relaxed despite his anger. He could not suppress a sharp intake of breath when his hair was brushed aside and he felt Celegorm’s warm breath and lips ghost across his shoulder, neck and ear.

“Then why didst thou invite me, if thou thinkest me such a nuisance?” The whispered words were spoken with honest curiosity, yet Beleg remained wary of the Noldo’s intentions. Not answering, he ducked beneath the surface to rinse his hair. When he emerged, Celegorm slowly turned him by his shoulders and gazed at him for a long, thoughtful moment before he spoke again. “An invitation it was, without doubt;” he mused, searching Beleg’s eyes. “These forests are vast and thou knowest them well, Beleg. Thou couldst have easily avoided crossing my path.”

Again Celegorm was met with defiant silence; Beleg unwilling to yet forgive his earlier condescending words. To reveal his motives would mean sharing a very intimate secret with the Noldo. In doing so, Beleg would make himself vulnerable; but could he trust Celegorm not to use it as another opportunity to offend him and make him the brunt of his sharp tongue?

“Wouldst thou at least return the favour and help me with my hair?” Celegorm inquired, turning his back to Beleg to allow him to tend to his thick mane of dark hair.

Celegorm knew he had offended Beleg. Perhaps he had indeed carried his taunting a bit too far, but it still irked him that he had so easily fallen prey to Beleg’s little game of hide and seek, not to mention his inelegant crash into the blackberry thicket during the pursuit. He grudgingly admitted being impressed by Beleg’s cunning. Why had the other elf chosen to draw him into this game? The Sindar were not on good terms with the Noldor, especially with him and his brethren. On the rare occasions he had met Beleg while on patrol far from their borders, only a few, necessary words had been exchanged about recent enemy movements.

Closing his eyes, Celegorm revelled in the feeling of Beleg’s nimble fingers smoothing out his hair. With a smile, he noted how the occasional brushing of fingertips across his skin lingered an instant longer than required, making his skin prickle pleasantly beneath the touch. For now, he would let the matter rest; Beleg would not answer his questions anyway, but Celegorm’s curiosity was piqued; he was certain Beleg’s motives went far deeper than showing him up and having a romp in the forest, and he was intent upon learning the nature of the other’s secret.

 

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They finished their bath in silence, then gathered their scattered clothes and donned their trousers. Beleg vanished into one of the trees bordering the clearing, climbing it with such elegance and ease that not a single leaf was stirred nor the faintest rustle audible. He soundlessly dropped to the ground a few moments later with a leather satchel and his weapons, setting them down onto the grass beside what proved to be a well-concealed fire pit. Firewood, tinder and a small kettle were produced from their hiding place beneath a nearby thicket and soon water was heating above a small fire and the scent of tea herbs filled the air.

“I have no spare cup,” Beleg announced apologetically, with a cautious smile. “But I know thou hast thine own in thy pack.”

“Of course,” Celegorm nodded and rose to collect his pack and weapons, casting Beleg a glare over his shoulder as he went. ”I am certain thou knowest the exact contents of my pack, as thou didst spy on me ceaselessly.”

Beleg could barely suppress a chuckle and quickly sipped his tea. It truly ate at Celegorm that he had not been able to catch the haunting presence – him – who had shadowed his every movement. Returning to the fire with Huan trotting beside him, Celegorm helped himself to a cup of tea and sat, absently petting Huan’s head while eying Beleg contemplatively.

“I wonder why Huan was not alerted by thy presence? He should have sensed thee,” Celegorm finally observed. “He usually warns me of any threat.”

“A threat?” Beleg grinned and cocked an eyebrow. “If I had been a threat, I would have had plenty of opportunities to do thee harm.”

“Lo and behold! Who is bragging now? Thou seemest to unduly enjoy rubbing thy triumph in my face. Thou art not one jot better than I,” Celegorm shot back accusingly. “Thou mayest not have been a threat, but thou art a stranger. For Huan, any stranger – be it elf or man, presents a potential threat and he reacts accordingly. What strange Sindarin witchery was this?”

“No witchery at all, as thou dost so crudely put it, “Beleg answered plainly; not rising to the offense. His thoughts drifted for a moment, recalling old memories. “I am no stranger to Huan.”

“How so? On the few occasions thou and I have met, I recall Huan not being at my side.” Celegorm’s gaze angrily darted from Beleg to Huan, trying to figure out what Beleg was hiding from him. The Sinda’s vague answers only prompted more questions, annoying Celegorm further.

“Needst thou always argue, Celegorm?” Beleg sighed as he unwrapped a leather bundle containing strips of cold roast. “I am starving. Thou art rather demanding company.”

“Thou dost taunt and provoke me,” Celegorm answered, glaring at the Sinda.

“Guilty.” Beleg chuckled, shaking his head while slicing an apple. “But then, I only pay thee back in kind. Shall we eat now?”

“Didst not thou initiate this game in the first place?” Celegorm snapped.

“Yes, but I meant no offense. We are both hunters and warriors, measuring our skills comes naturally to us.” Offering Celegorm meat and fruit, Beleg sat cross-legged and chose a slice of apple. “I was able to trick thee during the tracking, while thou didst beat me in the pursuit. I am not ashamed to admit that thy endurance and physical prowess surpassed mine.”

“Is this why thou didst invite me?” Celegorm asked, his temper mollified by Beleg’s calm admittance. “To compare our skills?” Adding his own supply of roast meat and a small bag of nuts and raisins to their meal, he awaited the Sinda’s answer.

“Partly, though it is not as simple as that.” Slowly chewing on some nuts, Beleg grew thoughtful but then smiled mildly at Celegorm. “Nothing I care to discuss with a growling belly and while thou art in such an irritable mood.”

Tired of trying to worm answers out of Beleg, Celegorm gave up for the moment. He fed Huan, who impatiently sniffed at the scent of food, the small remains of raw meat and a few bites of the roast, before he resumed eating his own fill. They ate in silence, the tension between them evident, both dwelling on their own thoughts until Celegorm suddenly furrowed his brow and gazed at Beleg quizzically.

“There is one more question to which I am dying to know the answer,” Celegorm said, and grinned when Beleg rolled his eyes. “The strangely shaped track near the broken spiderweb…what manner of imprint was this? I honestly have no clue.”

“No offence, but thy face when thou didst examine it was priceless,” Beleg chuckled; his green eyes gleaming with mirth. “I nearly fell from the tree trying to stifle my laughter. I would have landed right on thy head.”

“Thou wert so close? Above me in the tree?” Celegorm exclaimed, but laughed. “And I thought there was merely a squirrel.”

“Oh, the squirrel found thy expression priceless as well,” Beleg teased. “But to put thee out of thy misery, it was the imprint of my elbow. I try this one on all the hunters I train, and not one in centuries could figure it out.”

“Cunning fox,” Celegorm bowed his head in acknowledgment. “I will certainly try it on my own hunters.”

“There are plenty more feigned tracks to set their wits to work…”

 

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They talked long, the tension between them melting and their laughter hearty as they shared cunning ruses, hunting anecdotes or those of their training with fellow hunters and warriors; finally discussing hunting techniques and equipment. Their lives and cultures were different, yet they found they had things in common. Their shared love for the forest and the hunt; their yearning for solitary hunting trips to escape their duties for awhile.

When Huan finally, impatiently nudged Celegorm, a glance to the sky revealed the sun had wandered far while they had been deeply immersed in conversation; it was already afternoon. It was the time of day Celegorm and Huan usually set out to hunt their evening meal, though today Celegorm found it difficult to rouse himself and prepare. His muscles were still a bit sore, his burning anticipation of the hunt sated by the different sort of chase he had enjoyed earlier. He found he would prefer to continue his conversation with Beleg. It was to no avail though, his meat provisions were depleted and he doubted Beleg had enough left to sate the large appetite of his hound, aside from the fact that he would never ask the other elf to provide for Huan.

As if sensing his inner debate, Beleg cast Celegorm a bright smile. “There is a small lake not far from here. A beautiful spot, excellent fishing and a good place to answer questions. What thinkest thou? We could catch a decent evening meal for the three of us while we talk.”

Celegorm did not object. The idea of a calm afternoon of fishing and talking sounded rather inviting for a change, and even more so the prospect of finally gaining answers to his questions. Soon they rose to prepare, donned the rest of their clothing and hid their packs and the kettle in the tree Beleg had previously vanished into; a small platform of tied together branches, invisible from the ground, providing space for storage. The fire was covered, thus it could not spread while unattended, yet the embers would remain warm to easily light it anew upon their return. Celegorm had not brought along fishing equipment but Beleg was prepared: a ball of fine, yet strong string, fishhooks, small weights, a corked jar to collect bait and a net to store the catch. Makeshift fishing rods could be easily found once they reached the lake, thus they donned their weapons and set out.

Unhurried, they walked side by side; easily slipping back into their conversation about the hunt while Huan roamed about in wide circles. It turned out that Beleg, just as Celegorm, felt especially drawn to solitary hunts at this time of the year; though the winters in Doriath were milder and the soul of a hunter felt less constrained in the vast forests. Beleg nevertheless longed to replenish his soul in the woodland solitude and newly awakened nature before returning to his warrior duties; when hunting would become merely a necessity to provide food and not opportunity for the easing of his mind. The ancient forest region they walked was not populated by elves or men, even those elves who had forsaken the shelter of Melian’s girdle dwelled close to Doriath’s borders; yet Beleg regularly led patrols hither to keep the enemy at bay.

In less than an hour they reached their destination, and Beleg had not exaggerated its beauty. Serene and idyllic, the small lake lay enclosed in the heart of the forest, the grassy edge partly overhung by branches of the ancient trees surrounding it. The afternoon sun painted its surface in shades of gold and green, and they stood in silence for several minutes, revelling in the beautiful scenery before they walked along its edge in search of a spot where they would be able to cast their fishing lines unhindered. It did not take them long to choose the perfect location. Along the way, they collected long, slender, straight branches; wood to make floats, and insects and worms to use as bait.

Setting their weapons aside, Celegorm cleaned their makeshift fishing rods of twigs and surface irregularities with his knife while Beleg sat down to carve floats; Huan observing them curiously. Though when it became obvious that his master had no intention to set out upon a hunt, the hound, to Beleg’s utter amusement, tried several times to snatch the branches from Celegorm and engage in a tug of war. Celegorm finally won the struggle and Huan withdrew, apparently sulking. He then busied himself with chewing on a large stick instead, while Beleg and Celegorm quickly readied their fishing equipment without further interruptions.

Soon they sat on the grass side by side, talking quietly while the floats bobbed up and down on the water. Not long after, the first fish bit and Celegorm pulled out a large trout. He had just freed his catch from the hook when Huan was back at his side, curiously nosing the wriggly fish until it slipped from Celegorms hands and flopped to the ground, the hound pouncing on it too quickly for Celegorm to stop him. Cursing, Celegorm tried to pull Huan away, yet was halted by Beleg who smiled fondly at the scene.

“There are fish aplenty eager to bite,” Beleg spoke calmingly, directing Celegorm back to where they had sat. “Why begrudge thy friend his small joy? He is bored, as thou didst abandon hunting today; the fish will keep him busy for a while.”

“He did this intentionally,” Celegorm muttered, darting an angry glance at the hound. “Bored or not, a hound must not disobey his master.”

“Thou knowest he is a most faithful and loyal friend; he would never disobey in a serious situation. Wilt thou let this small incident spoil thy mood for the rest of the day?” Beleg asked with a sigh. “Thou art right, though…he is demonstrating his mischievous streak.” He paused, green eyes sparkling while a secretive smile played across his face. “Huan has not lost his sense of humour since I last knew him; thousands of years ago.”

“Thousands of years…?” Celegorm exclaimed, staring at Beleg in utter bewilderment.

 

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