I remember the first time I saw you. My gaffer introduced me to you, when you first moved in with your Uncle Bilbo. It was sunny that day, and the light reflected in your eyes and made the shine like sapphires. Your hair was short, and curled, a deep, luscious brown. I was nearly mute, struck by your beauty. But my gaffer rightly put me back in line. He tapped my head, bringing me back to attention, and I blushed and murmured a hello. You smiled, and I thought my heart would melt.
We shook hands, and I felt ashamed, because yours was soft and delicate, like a rose petal, and mine was rough and worn from work. You didn't seem to mind, though. You just smiled brighter as your eyes laughed in their own little way. I blushed again, and I think that this time you did too, because my thumb had absently stroked your finger. I was worried, but your smile didn't fade. It never faded, until now.
Now when you smile, it is a rare treat. And it is hardly a smile. I'm not sure I can even call it a smile; it is only you pulling your lips back to reveal your teeth, and wearing that mask to show that you are "happy" I don't want to worry you, so I smile the best I can. I look into your eyes, and that is how I know you aren't smiling. Your eyes that used to shine like sapphires now look more like the sky on a stormy day. I can see the pain, the anguish in your eyes. Everything lies within them.
They used to melt my heart, and somehow they still do, but now there is a sense of worry and sadness that grows with it. You will always be beautiful to me, but now, right now, you look terrible. You are sick, and weak, and tired, and your Elven beauty that once was so mysterious and gorgeous, has dulled. I look at you and tears come to my eyes. What has happened?
I remember when we first became lovers. It was dusk, and I was catching fireflies rather than doing my work. I was usually attentive to my chores, but it was a lazy summer night, and the lightning bugs were just calling me to play with them. I flailed and stumbled for them, and I nearly had one in hand when I heard you behind me. You called my name, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned to see your face, smiling at me, of course. That smile that never seemed to flee. I muttered some apologies, clumsily reaching for the nearest plant to get back to work. But the nearest plant was a rose.
I pricked my finger on a thorn and gave a sharp cry in pain. You asked if I was alright, and took my finger in your hand, your face all contorted with a worried frown. It seemed to me that you gave it not a thought, but you brought my fingertip to your mouth and kissed it gently, washing away the pain and blood. I was speechless, we both were, but you managed to speak through actions.
Soon, my fingertip was no longer at your mouth, but my lips were. You held my hand close to your chest, and it was between us, for we were locked in embrace. Your lips were warm and soft, but mine were dry, and chapped from the sun. I was ashamed, but you said they were better that way, that they were mine, and that made them perfect. Besides, you told me, if they were dry it gave you all the more reason to wet them with your kisses.
I look at you now, and your lips are looking like mine did that night. They are chapped and dry, and sometimes they bleed, for you bite them when you are worried, and that is all the time. You are sleeping, and even as you sleep you bite your bottom lip. They used to be full and pink, and kissable. Now they are pale and thin, but they will always be kissable.
I lean down to you and press my lips to yours, just to prove it. They are cold and stiff, and I shudder, for they remind me of a corpse. I pull away, and try not to think of such things, but I end up looking back to you. As tears run down my face, I lean in and kiss you again. Your lips are dry and chapped, but I don't mind. It gives me all the more reason to wet them with my kisses.
I remember the time you risked it all for me. I had gotten sick from being outside in the rain when I shouldn't have been, and I had caught a fever, and had aches all over. I couldn't leave my room. I couldn't leave my bed. I was hardly conscious. That night it was pouring rain. Thunder shook the hills, and lightning created a flash of day during the night. You braved it all to walk to my house, and you sat down next to me for hours, before you overheard the doctor speaking to my Gaffer.
He spoke of herbs that could help me, but he dared not go into the storm to fetch them. He said he would wait until day, or until the storm was over, but you didn't listen to that part of the conversation. You ran into the storm, at night, and you braved the rain and thunder to fetch the herbs, nestled by the riverside.
Had you fallen in you would have drowned. Your swimming skills would have been no use. But you didn't care. You fetched the herbs, with great difficulty, as they lie embedded in the side of the river, half drowned in the current. You came back before anyone knew you were gone, or that you had been eavesdropping.
The doctor mixed a medicine, but I had to take it with food, and I refused to chew. Once again, you saved my life. Before anyone could stop you, you tore a piece of bread and chewed it, then lowered down to me and kissed me gently. My mouth opened on its own, welcoming you, and you gently pushed the bread into it. You begged me to swallow, and I did so.
The doctor smiled, and said that now, everything would be fine. As he left, he closed the door behind him, and we were alone. You fed me and gave me my medicine, then lay down beside me and held me throughout the night. We woke in each others' arms and I was on my way to recovery. Thanks to you.
Now I look at your frail body, and you remind me of how I looked that night. Your face is troubled and you shiver in your sleep. I reach over to pull the blanket across you, and you wake with a start. You are frightened, breaking into a cold sweat, and your eyes look terrified. I wrap my arms around you and whisper into your ear. I kiss your cheek and tell you I love you. Your eyes respond to this, and you calm down. You remember where you are, and you recognize the world around you.
You look at me and whisper my name, wrapping me in your embrace. I smile, and am happy, for you seem to be right now, too. I kiss your lips, and they are no longer cold. I look into your eyes, and they are shining brightly. I watch your smile, and it seems to be true. There may be hope yet. It is times like these that remind me that there may be hope yet.
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Memories by Ivory Bride
Story notes: It's a bit short...written kinda spontaniously... But I'm proud of it, all the same.
