Title: Viewpoint
Characters: Elrohir, Legolas
Prompt: 074. Dark
Rating: T
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offence is intended or profit made in my use of them.
Summary: Sometimes, outgrowing a feeling can be a matter of changed perspective.
Author's Note: This short piece does not belong to any particular universe I have written so far. It is a simple indulgence on my part and one I hope you will enjoy.
As a child, like most children the world over whatever their kindred, he had feared the dark. The dark hid, veiled, deceived. Even elven eyes could not pierce the blackness of every shadow. If the deeps of his vast forest home were no longer wholesome, it was due in large part to the enshrouding dark and the fell beasts it invited to reside within.
In the world beyond, hearts and souls were blackening, too, swayed by the uttermost proof of how terrible the dark could be. For he who wielded it did so from the fastness of a forsaken land where the only great light came not from the skies above but from the bowels of a restless mountain. Was it any wonder that Legolas feared the dark for as long as he had?
But that changed when he came to recognize the attractions the dark held. The concealing safety the shadows offered when one wished to evade pursuit. The promise of a warm and cheerful hearth at the end of the road on a starless night. The serenity of a darkened chamber enticing one into restful slumber.
It was really a matter of perception Legolas had come to understand when he let go of his fear of the dark. It was not the shadows themselves that engendered either fear or peace or even indifference, but what one made of them.
Here, in this dimly lit chamber on many a late night did he embrace the darkness with fervor. He shuddered and groaned with every touch of lips and hands upon and around him. Sobbed as exquisite strength and heat repeatedly slid into the shadowed depths of his body's core. And the sight of midnight hued hair crowning his beloved's face served to remind him anew just why he had come to seek the dark as much as he had once avoided it.
When he lay in Elrohir's arms, the dark heralded passion rather than peril; trust instead of deception; love, not fear. The dark was as Legolas chose to see it and, in this moment and every like moment, he decided the dark was very good indeed.
End