TITLE: Moonlight Tattoo
AUTHOR: Java Green
SUMMARY: It's a PWP I think. Though it's more of an image I had in my head that I felt the need to share. A/L make love under the trees.
DISCLAIMER: The man and the elf aren't mine, they belong to master Tolkien. And I think they should be glad of that. I'd wear the poor things out otherwise!
NOTES: This is written to visualize a dream. I find this odd as I rarely remember my dreams, if I dream at all. When I do they're more like a twin peeks episode Stephen King wrote while having an acid flash back. Let me just say, I can totally relate to Frodo's fear of that giant burning eye following him everywhere. Anyway, I was walking through a stream of blood in the darkness, and I stopped and climbed a tree. I turned me head and looked into a clearing and this is what my eyes behelduntil Legolas' bow began to ring and I woke up to the phone. I took the liberty of finishing off the image in this lovely PWP that my dreams began.
The sun's fair fingers had slipped from their grip on the world long ago. The soft shadows of the night cradled the land and the light of the moon gazed with fondness upon her sleeping children. The soft warm breeze of summer ran through the tall grasses and slipped between the delicate leaves who whispered back to the playful caresses of the breeze.
The tress never sleep and their voices continued through the night's embrace as well as the day's grasp. Through the mighty trunks of old a clearing could be seen. The fire of the stars burned reflected in the still waters of a pond. Then were swung in a maelstrom of refracted images as the image reflected from a small stream through the clearing to disappear amongst the ancient roots.
A mortal's life is but a brief flicker in a tree's life. They see, think and feel not as a mortal does. They feel life through the air and taste it through the rain. They see the ages of the world and the lives of her children directly from the nourishment they receive from her soil. The trees feel and think long. The breaking of a branch is but a moment's unrest, but the destruction of a forest, can be echoed with pain for centuries. Even though it was the large scale events with lasting consequences that effected them, the trees were also aware of the brief light of the mortal's life upon their land.
Tonight their whispers were of wonder.
A silence spread through the clearing as awareness passed between the trees. Their soft singing ceased in reverence to the presence passing beneath their intricate canopy.
From the velvet shadows of the wood a silhouette appeared. It slowly separated from the darkness and was immersed by the light from the moon's fair gaze. It was not a single being, but two. One a man, tall and dark with the weight of destiny settled on his shoulders. In his arms was an elf, fair and gentle with the weight of immortality upon his own.
The trees watched as the two beings walked boldly to the clearing's center and were illuminated fully by the night's glow. The moon seemed to reflect her splendor from the skin of the two as they stood in her view. The man dark and the elf flawless light.
The two figures lowered themselves to the soil, never parting from their embrace. As they shed their clothing their full magnificence was taken up and whispered through the leaves. The man was weathered and strong. The sun's kiss had left him tanned from years of wandering, the wind's caress had aged the features to maturity. While the efforts of battle had molded his muscle firm. His steal blue eyes carried wisdom and the markings of a leader. But, tonight they carried a fire of desire as well.
The elf was porcelain and metal. Unlike man nature had not left her mark upon him, but had cradled him in its passage. His body was svelte and firm. His flesh flawless and the blue of his eyes contained the stoic wisdom of the skies.
With the trees and the night as witness the man and the elf merged upon the forest floor. Their lips molded together and their bodies slid together to fit as a perfect whole. The elf's white golden hair was passed through the man's browned fingers. While the man's ebony hair would curl to the ivory fingers which explored its texture.
The trees began to sing softly as their breathing became raw. The couple moved in a rhythm as ancient as the trees. Their hearts beat as one with echoes of the voices of Ainur in their depths.
As their pace became more frantic and their hands desperately clutched for support the trees increased the tempo of their song. They could feel the desperation and need of the pair in their midst. Their heart rates increased and they held together as the voices of the trees swirled around them. Then for a moment, as brief as the flicker of a mortal's life in the eyes of a tree, they were one.
But all things of joy, as those of sorrow, pass into the arms of night. The man and the elf returned to themselves. They lay upon the forest floor wrapped in each other's arms gazing at the sky. The songs of the trees ceased to a watchful silence.
The darkness gazed down over the clearing, and etched upon the flesh of the man and elf were the shadows of the intertwining canopy of the trees. For a moment in the moon's eyes they seemed to glow as an intricate pattern joining the two as one. A tattoo born of the trees and the light of shadows.
Too soon the man and elf donned their clothing and left the clearing. Once again to continue on with the task of living. As they left the trees broke the silence with song once more. The trees sang softly of their merging beauty to the night. The song continued in the soil long after the spark that was man had extinguished. While the night continued to listen and comfort those drawn to her embrace.