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#Oh wait this is definitely Finrod as Gildor
yellow-faerie · 3 years
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A challenge if you would like! 34 with Rôg and Finrod! (I am obsessed with them currently my brain attaches to the rarest ships 🙄)
I do love a challenge! I shall endeavour to provide.
From this prompt list.
34 - “I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?”
Finrod - that’s what Rôg says his name is - tugs at the edge of his sleeve. It is getting hot in this room but Rôg won’t let him out of bed, citing that he still needs to heal.
He likes Rôg so he does as he says: even if it deathly boring to sit here with nothing to do but drink herbal tea and read the few children’s books that have been deemed acceptable and unlikely to cause undue stress.
There is a knock on the door.
“Come in!” He calls, his voice hoarse from the ragged cut along his throat he can’t remember getting - but he can’t recall anything from before the moment Rôg found him and that eternal relief he felt.
It is Rôg who comes him, poking his head around the door and smiling softly. “Good afternoon Finrod. I brought some tea.”
Finrod groans despite himself and Rôg laughs, slipping into the room with the tray in his hands. “I am sure the healers will allow you to eat something a bit more solid soon.”
He settles down on the edge of the bed, close enough to provide any help that Finrod may require. Finrod knows his hands sometimes shake too much to hold the mug well.
“Thank you.” He takes the drink - Rôg’s hand steadying it - and begins to sip.
“I also brought another book - it’s not a story but I thought you might like it. The illustrations are very good.”
Rôg lays it on Finrod’s lap. It reads ‘The Encyclopaedia of Botany’ on the front of it’s leather cover in swirling gold letters. Finrod should like to open it up and take a look at the pictures himself but his hands are too busy with the mug.
It would never do to spill it and ruin the new present.
“It’s lovely,” Finrod says, looking up at Rôg with a smile. “Thank you very much.”
“I though the children’s tales may be getting a bit dull at this point - I’ll try and find you something more entertaining at some point.”
“It’s alright, I-” Finrod cuts off suddenly as his throat constricts. He doubles over, the tea scalding his fingers as it splashed over the edge.
Rôg pries it from his fingers, setting it on the nearby table. He rubs Finrod’s back in careful circles until the coughing subsides.
“There.” Rôg puts a tentative arm around his shoulders. “It’s alright. I’m here.”
The words ring in Finrod’s ear accompanied by the smell of fire and blood and a gentle kiss pressed to his forehead, his cheek, his lips.
“It’s alright.”
Finrod looks up. “I remember kissing you,” He says and Rôg freezes, looking...almost guilty. “Why...why do I remember kissing you?”
“Do not worry about that.” Rôg tucks a lock of Finrod’s short hair behind his ear. “I shall tell you when you are of a clearer mind.”
“I am of clear mind.” Finrod frowns. “Tell me now.”
Rôg waves one hand vaguely to his left. “We were...something. You have had many relationships in your lifetime, I was nothing special.”
Finrod’s frown deepens. “You are special,” He says, his voice beginning to go hoarse. “I cannot believe that I could have thought otherwise. You are kind and sweet.”
“That is only because you are ill and I care for you. I am not a nice person.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” Finrod sticks his chin out stubbornly. “I say you are nice so that is what you are.”
Rôg smiles, small and sad, and he clearly doesn’t believe him. “If that is what you say.” He stands. “I should be getting going. I have a meeting to get to. I’ll be back soon.”
He hesitates a moment, as if to lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead, but then he turns and slips from the room, leaving Finrod alone again.
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