“I love watching the stars through the trees like this,” whispered Russandol. He and Findekáno had just finished their supper and were relaxing in the cool grass. They had yet to pitch the tent or even spread out their bedrolls. What was left of their dinner was being investigated some ways away by a pair of inquisitive young raccoons.
Findekáno stretched his arms up over his head and let out a yawn. “I wonder what it was like to live at Cuiviénen.”
“Pretty boring, probably. Just talking and singing and swimming and...” Russandol turned his head to the side and winked. “Well, you know. I mean, what else were they going to do all day?”
Findekáno’s face turned crimson and he regarded the stars with deeper concentration. Beside him, he heard the grass rustle as Russandol stretched out. Instead of moving his arms above him, however, he reached far out on either side, fingertips brushing Findekáno’s side. The sound of a short, surprised gasp broke through the trickling of water some distance away and the chirrips of crickets nearby.
“Sorry,” apologized Russandol, drawing his arms back in.
“No, that... you are fine, no worries,” Findekáno mumbled. He turned his head to steal a look at Russandol, and practically jumped when he found he was being looked at in turn. Once more he stared upwards and tried to appear deeply intrigued by the stars.
“Fin, I have to ask a question of you.”
“Yes... I think we should pitch the tent now,” answered Findekáno, sitting up abruptly.
His wrist was taken hold of before he could stand, and Russandol held it firmly. “Findekáno, is something wrong?”
“Wrong? What? No, not at all,” he replied, making another attempt to stand. Russandol would not let go, preventing him from escape.
“You have given me several odd looks today, and many more previously. Or, rather, I find there is increasingly a lack of eye contact. I would have you tell me why.”
Even now, Findekáno averted his gaze. “I fear you will not be happy with my reason.”
“Fin, we have known each other since boyhood. We are the best of friends. What could you possibly say to make me unhappy?” wondered Russandol.
“If I were to tell you, there is a chance that friendship might be lost,” Findekáno replied quickly. “Would you really wish to jeopardize so long an alliance as ours?”
“You place it in peril by refusing to answer.” Russandol let go of Findekáno’s wrist. “Go,” he said sadly, with a dismissive wave of his arm. “I will not continue to force the issue.”
Findekáno stood up once released, but did not stay so for long. He settled back down beside Russandol, shoulder to shoulder, both of them staring at the same tree. “I am sorry,” Russandol finally said, glancing sideways at Findekáno. “It is only just that it seems to concern me, whatever is on your mind, and I am one part worried and one part suspicious that either I or one of my brothers have wronged you in some way.”
“No, it is not that,” Findekáno assured him.
“Then what? I ask not of you, but of myself... I wish I could recall what it was that I did.”
“Nothing. You did nothing.” Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Findekáno sighed and asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”
“Why?”
“Please, just... if you answer, I will tell you what is wrong with me,” offered Findekáno.
Russandol contemplated the question. “My parents, my brothers.” Russandol thought a little more. “There was a girl who lived down the road, once when we were children.” At this Findekáno’s shoulders slumped, but Russandol continued. “It... really did nothing for me. It was quite disgusting, in fact,” he recalled mirthfully. He sighed and it was his turn to find a point in the distance to stare at. “What you have to understand, Findekáno, is that females hold little interest for me. It may be an unpopular idea, but my desires are of a mate who I can hunt with and camp with, who will not be so inclined to spend their time weaving and gossiping and whatever else ellyth do.”
“I like you, Maitimo.” It came out suddenly, and seemed to surprise even Findekáno. He had meant to give more of an explanation, but there it was.
“Well, I happen to like you, too, Fin.”
The words rushed forward now. “I mean... I really like you. I really, really like you. I like you in the sort of way that were you not my cousin, I would not ask you about kissing, I would actually try to kiss you.”
“Would you?” asked Russandol quietly. He received a nod in answer. “Then what matter is it that we are cousins?”
“It matters just because it does,” reasoned Findekáno. “Cousins are forbidden to—“
“Forbidden to have children, yes, but that would not be an issue. I am unaware of any limitations on love.”
No answer came from Findekáno, for he was still trying to comprehend what Russandol had just revealed. He was not revolted by the idea, in fact, he seemed to be rationalizing and encouraging it. Findekáno dug his thumbnail discretely into the bend of his arm to check that he was still awake.
Meanwhile, Russandol was wiping the back of his hand against his mouth and running his tongue across his teeth. His breath was no doubt reeking of the fish from their supper. He mentally scolded his dinner decision, but then, had he planned to kiss Findekáno afterwards? No. Did he plan to now? Given the opportunity... he had to admit to himself, he had wondered about his cousin’s preferences, and was happy to be placed in such a position.
“I will be right back,” he promised before walking toward a clump of bushes. He pulled some of the fragrant plant he had noticed earlier up from the ground and walked back. “Here, chew on this,” he said, offering half of the mint stems and leaves to his cousin.
“Why?”
“Because it will make your mouth nice and clean. Unless you intend to kiss me with fish breath...”
Findekáno shoved the plant into his mouth and Russandol did the same, sitting down again with his knees pulled up to his chest. Although Russandol eventually spat his back out onto the ground, Findekáno swallowed the fresh mint when he was done chewing, hoping it might alleviate some of the jitters he was feeling in his stomach. He jabbed his nail into his skin again – still awake, he decided.
“Should we pitch the tent first?” Findekáno heard himself asking. Now that what he wanted was so close he was not so sure of himself. Prolonging it suddenly seemed to be a pretty good plan.
“No; we might defer to logic or something.”
“Right. So, here then?” Findekáno wondered if the loud pounding of his heart was audible only to himself, or if Russandol was hearing it as well. He knew his shaking was visible when Russandol placed his hands on Findekáno’s shoulders.
“Are you afraid?”
Unable to lie, Findekáno nodded, but did not look away. “Yes.”
Russandol nodded back slowly and rubbed his hands up and down Findekáno’s arms. “Me, too,” he admitted, and then he leaned forward with his head bowed and pressed his lips to Findekáno’s.
- - -
Instead of properly pitching the tent that night, they grabbed their gear and stumbled themselves beneath an old pine. After kicking away the fallen cones, they hastily spread out one bedroll for them both to retire on, and used the other as cover once they had shyly removed their clothing. It was not the first time they had seen one another in such a state, but it was the first time they were both staring at the ground, stealing glances, blushing madly, and stumbling on words.
“Do you... mind not having a campfire? We would risk damage to the tree... and the smoke would just go, er, it would have no where to go...”
“This is nice, we, umm, we can just keep warm together, then, and, umm, and the breeze is less under here.”
They had spent an hour kissing in the open before realizing they could be easily caught if there was anyone else in the woods. Now, hidden under the thick branches, they settled down, Russandol on his right side and Findekáno on his left, facing one another but not yet touching.
“I was thinking...” Findekáno buried his hands under his pillow, wanting to use them for something else but not wanting to appear too eager. “I was thinking, we planned three weeks, but we could probably make it five or six, since we have the provisions for it.”
“True, but after three weeks, we would be sought after by our family, wondering where we disappeared. It would cause undue worry.”
“Right.” A light gust blew Findekáno’s hair over his face, and he grumbled and shoved it back.
Russandol sat up and laughed. “Turn around; let me take care of that.”
“What?”
“Your hair. Let me braid it for you so that it is not such a nuisance.” As Findekáno rose and sat in front of Russandol, the redhead said, “You keep courting disaster with this hair of yours. I never noticed until tonight how many times it winds up tangling in your food. You should really keep it braided.” Russandol began to work on Findekáno’s long hair with a frustrated grunt. “How can anyone with such beautiful hair let it get so snarled?”
“It snarls on its own accord. Ow! Quit pulling it!”
A long, thick portion of it was brought forward over Findekáno’s shoulder. “Here, hold this,” directed Russandol. A few minutes and many yelps later, he had separated another long chunk of it. “Tomorrow,” Russandol informed his cousin, “the first thing we are going to do is find a place to bathe, and then you are going to let me tame this mane of yours.”
“How do you—ow – plan—oww!—to do that?” Findekáno grimaced as Russandol fought against the unruly tresses.
“Braid it. All of it.” Russandol quickly plaited Findekáno’s hair into one long, thick rope and tied off the end after retrieving the errant piece of cloth from the pocket of his discarded trousers. “Lots of little braids will be more manageable, and you can keep them braided for weeks before having to redo them.”
“It will look stupid,” argued Findekáno as he looked over his shoulder.
“No, but it does look stupid when you are eating and trying to pull your hair out of your mouth because it got all wrapped around your trout.” Russandol placed a finger over Findekáno’s lips before he could issue forth his protest. “No arguments or no more of this.” His fingers slid down and moved beneath Findekáno’s chin, tilting it up. They closed their eyes and kissed again.
With his head bowed down, Russandol kissed Findekáno’s neck and moved down to his shoulder. As Findekáno moaned louder, Russandol grew bolder, drawing the soft flesh between throat and shoulder into his mouth and sucking on it until Findekáno cried out.
Findekáno found himself back down on the ground again, spread out under Russandol and at his mercy. There was no doubt Russandol was taller, but he was much more muscular and therefore much heavier. Had Findekáno not been so overwhelmed by the fervent attention he was getting, he would have shoved Russandol from him, if he could. Instead, he closed his eyes and tilted back his head, gasping when he felt Russandol’s lips seal over his skin. There would be marks, he could feel them forming already, but with any luck they would be gone by morning if he slept well.
If he slept at all.
Something was pressing down, being forced between his thighs. Findekáno spread his legs to relieve the pressure on them, and felt Russandol’s leg being lowered down, his knee roughly pushing against his groin. No one else had ever touched him there before, and even when he dreamed he did not masturbate, he simply released due to the dreams. Strong hands took hold of his hips and fingers dug in, and his bottom lip was bit into, pulled on, more kissing, harder, longer, warmth flowing through him, and then—
“Wait, Russandol,” panted Findekáno against his counsin’s lips. Another kiss muted him, and for the second time he felt Russandol shift his arousal. The tip of his erection, both hard and yet soft, nudged Findekáno’s entrance. With both hands against Russandol’s chest, Findekáno gave a firm shove. “No!”
“What? What is it?” Russandol sat back on his heals, heavily panting, sweat gleaming on his brow.
With his bottom lip trembling, Findekáno admitted, “I am... not ready for that yet.”
Russandol nodded, and leaned down to kiss Findekáno’s forehead. “Sorry. I should have asked. It was just... you were so...” Another kiss was given, this one shared. “Never be afraid to tell me no.”
Findekáno nodded.
“I will always stop when you tell me.” One final kiss was placed on Findekáno’s lips, and Russandol moved off of his lover. His hand reached down and touched the hard length that jutted upwards, and Findekáno gasped. “Can I... do this?” he asked as he wrapped his fingers around it after licking his palm. Findekáno nodded, and the world narrowed. Everything he had ever felt in his dreams was magnified to an intensity he could hardly have imagined. Body tensed and toes curled up, fingers clawed into the dirt, he let out a short, hoarse scream when Russandol dipped his head down, sun kissed curls tickling Findekáno’s abdomen and thighs.
“If you are going to do that every time, we had better find an even more secluded campsite.” Russandol milked the rest of Findekáno’s release with his hand, smiling down at him. “What were you doing, saving it up?” he teased, wiping his hand off on a small patch of grass.
“Sorry.”
“It was not a complaint.” Russandol kissed Findekáno a few more times before settling down beside him. “Mind if I try something?” When Findekáno froze, shoulders stiffened, Russandol assured him with, “I already told you I would not do that. I do not attend to release within you, I just want to release against you.”
“Oh.”
“May I?”
Findekáno gave a little nod, still exhausted.
“Can you roll onto your side? No, the other way, facing away from me.” Once Findekáno was arranged as Russandol wanted him, the elder came close, his erection pressing against Findekáno’s lower back. One long leg was lifted over Findekáno’s hip, along with one long arm over his chest, holding him firmly while Russandol rubbed against his back and nipped his neck. By the time Russandol was groaning and nearing his climax, Findekáno was hard again as well. The low groan in his ear as a warm, sticky dampness spread over his back sent Findekáno over the edge once more.
- - -
Cradled in Russandol’s arms, Findekáno relaxed and nuzzled his lover’s chest. “How long do you think we will be able to keep this a secret?” he asked. They had spent three days in the same spot, experimenting beneath the pine tree. They agreed to move on the next morning, lest someone should happen upon them.
“Maybe a few weeks, but I think someone is bound to figure it out.”
Findekáno sighed, not looking forward to what his brother or father would have to say about his newfound love. “I would rather spend forever under this tree with you, away from the rest of the world.”
“Appealing as that is, I am sure there are some things you would miss,” reasoned Russandol. “Let us dwell not upon tomorrow. Tonight, let us pretend it is only you and I, here, beneath this tree, and nothing more than that.”
That is how they spent the night, and the next, until the days and nights ran together and time was forgotten. Three weeks passed into four without their notice, and it was only when Makalaurë and Turukáno came to look for them that they were brought away from their private escape. A noisy entrance into the woods by their brothers alerted them in time. They each parted for home when they left the woods, sharing a secret that they knew they could not keep for long, but still would cherish for all time.
Author's Chapter Notes:
--Cast with names translated for easy reference
Findekáno – Fingon; Fingolfin’s eldest son
Turukáno – Turgon; Fingolfin’s second son
Russandol – Maedhros; Fëanor’s eldest son
Makalaurë – Maglor; Fëanor’s second son
Findekáno – Fingon; Fingolfin’s eldest son
Turukáno – Turgon; Fingolfin’s second son
Russandol – Maedhros; Fëanor’s eldest son
Makalaurë – Maglor; Fëanor’s second son