Love Like Dandelions

1. Recipe to hug- Finrod stands unmoving. His ancient heart beats louder than ever. Even the constant shuffle of your footsteps fades as blood pumps in his ears. He watches you make your way towards him with wide open arms and a pleasant smile on your face. The sun settles in your flowing hair. It changes the color of your hair as if becoming a part of your hroa. Nothing better proves that the Edain truly are the children of the sun. Lost in his pondering, he almost loses his balance when your arms encircle his neck. You stand on your toes. Your body leaning forward to meet his. Finrod leans in as he bends down to let your feet rest easy. From the close up he can see the light of his own eyes reflected into yours. You smile and it does not take long before a similar smile finds itself on his face. “Like this,” you say as you pull away one of your arms to hold his hand and guide it to your waist. Followed by his other hand. “This is how you hug, My King,” your voice rings close to his ear and the faint warmth of your breath catches him off guard. 

2. Cuddling hug- Finrod’s unfocused eyes stare back at you. Elves dreamt with their eyes open. They slept, unlike men they slept less. Only the labor of several days led to a night of deep sleep. Finrod’s elven sleeping form had scared you out of your wits the first time you had seen it. Your horrified scream at that time was followed by an army of guards swarming in your room and not to forget your beloved who woke up with the scariest look in his eyes. Now as you lay next to your slumbering lover for the first time you find yourself awake while he sleeps. Turning to him you move closer. You both had been traveling and now that you were back in the safety of Nargothrond your beloved finally let down his constant guard and welcomed sleep. With your movements as quiet as you can manage you embrace Finrod in a hug. Your beloved remains sleeping, thank Eru! You pull closer to your lover, basking in the warmth of your contact. Somehow even deep in his dream Finrod’s arms encircle your waist. Pulling you closer. Your head rests on his chest as you try to go back to sleep with a wild heart.

3. Hesitant hug-A unlit room welcomed him. While Finrod himself can see well in dark he seriously doubted you could. Worried about your safety he looked around trying to link you to the steady beat of your heart that rang in his ears. At last, he spotted a small but noticeable lump on your bed. Covered in blankets, you were the most adorable mountain ever. “Well, what brings you here?” Your voice held a sulky tone. “I’m not outside my room now am I?” It was not hard to imagine the pout you probably had on your face right now. Empowered to witness it himself Finrod made his way to your moping form. With the grace of a duck, which very much made him cringe, Finrod climbed up the bed. “Meleth, you must understand,” he begins only for you to scoff at him. Ready to enter the metaphorical battlefield even under the cover of blankets. “Listen to me,” with the most foreign movements Finrod wraps his arms around you. A hug is still something that escapes his elven senses. With the little hill in his embrace, Finrod rests his chin on top of your head (a gesture that you don’t pull away from). “How about we wait your cold out for a few days and then plan an outing?” A small cold, he tried to reassure himself. You would get better soon, he reasoned in his mind. 

4. Reassuring hug- As you run through the woods your breath comes heavy. You pant as the heavy footsteps following you grow louder with every passing second. So close. You are so close to home yet, it seems farther than ever with your faltering steps. “Ahhh!” Your trembling hands try to untangle your hair that gets stuck in a wayward branch that you failed to notice in your haste. A delay that costs you more of the precious seconds you have on your pursuers. ‘Please…help,’ you plead and beg to those who dare listen to your prayer. With your hair free you resume your struggle. This death would be too painful of a fate for you and your beloved. ‘Eru,’ your thought is cut sharp as a protruding root on the forest floor catches your foot only for the doom to inch closer. ‘Don’t let him know of this,’ you bargain with the fates. But never feel the impact of the fall that you anticipate. A firm hand holds you and your scrunched-shut eyes shoot open to greet the sight of an elven guard. Distant screams of agony fill the forest as the party of elven soldiers clears the orcs following you. However, your world narrows at the first glance of your beloved, who rushes in carrying a bloodied sword. His eyes find yours with a panicked look in them. A maniacal look. Letting go of the hand that supports you, you make a last run. Ignoring your screaming lungs and protesting heart you run to him. On the other end, you watch him drop his sword and run towards you with a speed unknown to man. And you meet in the middle. Your limbs a mess, your faces inches apart, and your bodies shaking with uncontrollable tremors. His hands hold you close. Too dangerous, too close, too soon. Words remain unsaid but the relief fills in. That day he becomes greater than any god, any supreme being, any creator.

5. Heartbeat through hug- Your head rests on his chest and Finrod can’t help but marvel. His own heart fades into nothingness as the rhythm of your heart fills his sense. His enhanced senses can feel the strength of the heart of the secondborn. With a curious idea brewing in his mind Finrod leans in. Getting closer to your face, he lifts your chin to make you face him and inches closer. Nearer and nearer until he hears it. A skip of the beat and then a faster rhythm. You look at him with a beautiful red gathering on your face. Your breath hitches and Finrod feels victorious as your heart races. His own heart follows yours. His own heart pauses to beat when you lean in and steal a kiss with a mischievous smile on your face.

6. Compensatory hug- Your beloved kisses you crazy. His kiss leaves you arching into him. Wanting more. Finrod gently lays you on the bed as he crawls on top of you continuing the kiss deeper than ever. His eyes shine brighter than the sun, the moon, and the stars. His golden hair is almost silver with the moon that seems to shine only for him. Pleasure and heat fill you as his hands travel your body. You want this. You have waited for so long. You love him and you have the right to want him in every way. He loves you in return. You know this. Your reasoning fades as voices of self-doubt erupt in your head. ‘She awaits him,’ one of your voices whispers with venom. ‘It is immoral,’ another adds with unconcealed scorn. ‘No,’ the other argues and the room feels too full. Too crowded with your voices, Finrod, and the stars glaring at you. You are as shaken as Finrod when a sob breaks through your throat. Tears come easier than ever and the voices in your mind blame you for the hurt look in Finrod’s eyes. ‘No, no, no, no…’ your panicked thoughts are left unsaid. Instead, you hug him. A hug is all you can give to him, who someone awaits in distant lands. Someone who would accompany him for eternity and not leave him withering in an inescapable world. “We can’t,” your voice cracks with an effort to speak. Finrod freezes in your arms. The next second your arms fall to your sides as your beloved leaves the room with the door slammed shut. And the voices return louder than ever.

7. Tired hug- 1, 2, 3, and Bam. The door to Finrod’s study blasts opens with your unrestrained might. From the corner of his eye he watches you gather your flowing gown in your hands, a gesture so mannish that it leaves him more in love than ever. He feels the thud of your steps vibrate through his very being as you stomp your way to him. For once the papers about spices and silks feel uninteresting but Finrod continues the facade of being interested in the texts. “Hmph,” you grunt in determination as you remain unfazed by his lack of attention. He almost squeals in a very unkingly voice when you very much drape yourself over him. Putting all your body weight on him, you slouch on his back. Finrod almost faceplants into his desk. The paper in his grasp slips when you whisper, “Human very tired. Must sleep,” right next to his ear. Your breath tickles his neck but Finrod resists the urge to move. “Wha-” his question is interrupted by a small snore. The King of Nargothrond finds himself in a predicament unlike never before.

8. Princess carry hug- Finrod looks scandalized. He turns to you with a shocked look on his face, asking for a silent explanation. “It is tradition. A race in which you carry your spouse and run,” you reply to your beloved. Around you, all the men prepare for the race. Many are busy instructing their spouses on the correct hold. The small settlement that you and Finrod are visiting emerges with a new life as everyone prepares for the Spring festival. “Should we take part?” You ask your lover whose gleaming eyes are enough of an answer to all your questions. The next moment Finrod gawks as you carry him in a princess carry. “Just checking,” you explain to your lover whose legs almost touch the ground even in your embrace. “It would be only fair that I compete with my fellow men and leave your Elvish Highness out of it.” The King of Nargothrond barely looks at you as his arms encircle your neck and his face buries in the crook of your neck. “You better win,” he whispers and you can’t stop your own bubbling laugh.

9. Hug that hides tears- A squelch of wetness overwhelms Finrod’s senses. The concerning creak and wear of your lungs are not gone unnoticed by him. The room fills with your struggling breaths. A process leaves you panting and sweating. “Stay,” you muster to say even in your delirious state. Finrod stays. He sits next to you as you hug him closer than ever. Holding him in a way that keeps him from breaking. However, the comfort of your mannish gesture does little to calm him. A sickness he wished upon himself. Something, anything to spare you of this pain. He wishes for the same doom to take him where it drags you. Next to you lay bloodied handkerchiefs. A proof of the future that awaits him. Finrod stares at your blood. He stares and wishes for it to go away. He has already prayed and pleaded with the gods who ignore him. He has scoured texts for a cure only to find the inevitability of doom. He feels his shoulders shake with grief. His petty tears make your gown wet. A gesture that helps little…but he can’t stop. But you, even in your pain and suffering hold him firm. You comfort him even as you struggle to oppress an emerging coughing fit in your lungs.

10. Hugof leave-taking- “Here,” Finrod drapes a thick coat around you as he flutters around the room. His own armor gleaming in the light of the day. He fusses around your droughts, “you must take them all at the right time,” he instructs for the tenth time in the last hour. “I will,” you reassure your beloved who seems unaffected by it like the last nine times. You find the strength to push yourself up from your bed and make your way to Finrod. “Have I not recovered already?” You ask him as you take his hands in your own. “This cure…it can help,” Finrod stammers. His voice so uncertain, so fragile. “I am sure we’ll all be fine,” you hug him. His arms close around you. “Take care on your journey. Take care of yourself,” you add as you push away the words bubbling on your tongue. The hug lasts longer and you find yourself rocking in a small dance. “I’ll wait for you,” you add before you watch him leave. The last words you say to him. For when the King of the Nargothrond returns from his excursion, he returns to you gone. You do not make him witness your fall. Your last moments are not his tears. So, you leave to die in a faraway place that hides your agony from him.

11. Hug of reunion- The bright golden world of the men blends with the silvery calm of the firstborns. After ages when Arda is unmade. It is then that Finrod, who longer remains the King of Nargothrond, neither betrothed to someone nor bound by a different world, finds you. Untouched by sorrow, pain, or disease, he finds you. A hroa that shines with the might of the Sun. Even tears escape him in a moment so precious. Without a delay, he rushed to embrace you and you run towards him. Light is all that remains as he finally gets to be with you.