#this part is almost twice as long as 2.1 oops the words and the feels got away from me (again)

[greenleaf4stuff]

In Convenience - Chapter 2, part 2

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience" and "In Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage to marriage of love AU, post story snippet 2. The question of appropriate attire for the planned wedding celebrations and an intitially innocent suggestion reveal some deeper concerns for Adar. Celebrimbor comforts and supports the other, and finds a potential way around their 'predicament'.

This part has a bit of silliness, a bit of angst, a bit of comfort, and a tiny dash of spiciness at the very end, though the two do not progress beyond kissing. A bit of a rollercoaster of emotions in this one, but I enjoyed giving Celebrimbor the chance to support Adar for a change, and for Adar to slooowly begin being vulnerable. Enjoy!

It was only much later that the elf finally discovered what had been bothering his husband.

He and Adar did have to split up for a few hours after their meal, with Adar having gone to check on his children, while Celebrimbor had been swept up in yet more wedding plans.

The smith had expected Adar to stay in the camp for the rest of the day, and therefore decided to do a small detour to his rooms to put on sturdy boots, so he could go and join his husband out in the forest without having mud inside his footwear afterwards. Perhaps, he might track the other down before the next meal was due, and they could have it in Adar’s camp for a change.

Sometimes, the elf missed the quiet dinners they had shared in their tent. Simpler than elven meals for sure, but there had always been a quiet intimacy to them eating together back then. They had to deal with far fewer interruptions, too.

With a wistful sigh, Celebrimbor neared the door to his room, only to stop abruptly when he found it standing slightly ajar.

Thinking back to earlier, he was sure he’d properly closed it. Maybe someone had come by and delivered a letter or a parcel in the meantime?

Silently, the elf walked closer – he had no reason to suspect any danger, but that didn’t make it easier for him to shake his apprehension.

When he finally arrived at the door and peeked inside the room that lay beyond it, he felt his breath catch in his throat at the unexpected sight that greeted him.

He almost didn’t recognize his husband, who was standing in front of a large mirror as he studied himself. The other had taken off his cuirass, chainmail, boots, his breeches and his tunic, even his gauntlet, all of which were placed carefully to his side. The only thing left of his usual attire was the braided ring of his right index finger.

Instead, he wore one of the robes the elf had pulled from his wardrobe earlier; the smith recongized the piece, which was of a midnight-blue color and had only minimal embroidery added onto it. He’d gotten it made as a simpler garment to wear in his spare time, for reading or wandering one of Eregion’s gardens in the evening.

Adar looked regal in it. For someone who had solely worn armor for such a long time, the robe suited him rather well. He did not even seem to be that unused to its weight, or the way the fabric fell around his shoulders and wrapped around his body.

If Celebrimbor hadn’t known better, he’d have hardly suspected the one standing in his room to be uruk. Adar almost looked like an elf untouched by Morgoth’s influence. Even his pale skin was offset by the light of the sun, which was slowly starting to set outside the window.

And yet, the smith could see the same, deep sadness in Adar’s eyes he’d witnessed earlier, when he’d first retrieved the clothes and shown them to the uruk. Though now, he was looking at himself with that expression.

The elf would have liked to watch his husband some more, take in the unusual sight, as he suspected he would not soon get to see it again.

But he did not want to steal this moment for himself like a thief, and so he straightened, lightly knocked against the door, then slowly pushed it further open to announce his presence. Hopefully, without startling his husband.

Their eyes caught in the reflection of the mirror; Adar didn’t look surprised to be caught. Perhaps he’d even hoped for it. But still, the look in his eyes did not brighten, and he was soon focused on his appearance again.

Celebrimbor swallowed and stepped into their chambers. He shut the door behind himself as he did, then turned towards Adar again.

On the one hand, he wished to openly speak of how much he liked seeing Adar wearing this robe, how well it fit him, how he could not help but let his own eyes roam the other’s body in appreciation. And on the other, it was clear that Adar himself did not hold the same sentiment as he looked upon himself.

The smith eventually settled on an unsure, "The color quite suits you."

A long silence answered him, to the point that he began to fidget with his own braided ring in worry and stepped closer to the uruk.

"I did not expect to look quite so much like my old self in this," Adar finally said, voice heavy – almost grave.

Celebrimbor fell still, and stared, before asking. "Your old self?"

"Back before they found and...remade me," the other explained. "When I was still an elf. Untouched by darkness."

The smith sucked in a breath and felt himself freeze up at the other’s words. Things were beginning to fall into place now; the forlorn looks, the agitation.

"You did not merely avoid this topic because you wore chainmail for such a long time, didn’t you?"

"No," the uruk answered. "I feared what I would see – whether I would recognize myself, and what I was, once I put on these clothes. If I...If I would miss it. What form my regrets would take."

His words broke Celebrimbor’s heart. He went over to Adar the rest of the way, whose gaze was still fixed on the mirror.

With gentle, slow movements, the elf stepped behind his husband as he brought his hands forward and around Adar’s hips. He then held onto his one of his wrists with his other hand. At the same time, he moved closer, until his front was flush against Adar’s back.

He hooked his chin over the uruk’s shoulder and pressed their cheeks together. Up close, he could feel that Adar’s breathing was slightly uneven as well.

The elf took a moment to let them settle. He could see Adar look up at him, finally, and felt a small measure of relief when the other lifted his own hands and folded them over Celebrimbor’s. Adar also leant back into the embrace, and allowed his eyes to close as he took a deep breath.

Cautiously, the elf asked, "Do you recognize yourself?"

The uruk shuddered. "Yes and no. I can see the shape of the elf I once was, but he is out of my reach. Everything before Morgoth is out of my reach now. And yet my current self seems to be slipping through my fingers as well – who am I, without an enemy to vanquish, and now that peace for my children is within my grasp?"

This sounded to be an issue that ran even deeper than Celebrimbor had expected. He’d often questioned who he himself was, after fleeing Eregion, in the time during which he had been completely unable to perform his craft, had not been the ruler of his own city. If one took all that away, and left only the elf behind, what remained?

He could only guess how much worse it had to feel for Adar, who had made so many sacrifices and endured so much, and had now overcome his past – only to be left with a wide open, terrifyingly unknown future.

Still, perhaps he might be able to help. With a surge of determination, Celebrimbor replied. "I recognize you, Adar. Lord and Father of the uruk. The one who helped slay Sauron," A pause. "Bringer of the peace between uruk and elves. And my husband."

His words caused Adar to finally look at the elf again, still through the reflection of the mirror. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

Celebrimbor smiled, and took in the two of them as they stood together.

"I care not for what you wear, or whether you are elf or uruk. You are the one I love. That is all that matters to me. And whatever you once were, or might be, I do love that as well. You being uruk does not diminish you – and neither does your elven past."

"Neither of us knows what the future may hold. We do not know how the dwarves and the men might react to our union and the peace. What other challenges might await us, even after Sauron’s defeat. But I feel more at ease knowing I will be facing it all with you by my side."

He turned and pressed a kiss to Adar’s jaw, lightly, before he brought their cheeks together again. "Who knows what we might end up becoming together, huh? Maybe an old couple that constantly bickers with each other?"

At that, Adar’s lip quirked up a little bit, and he fully let himself sink into Celebrimbor’s hold. It seemed as if a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, as if a strain had been greatly lessened.

It would surely take time for Adar to heal, and to find his place in the world that would come to be due to their victory, but his reaction was at least promising.

The smith tightened his arms around the other just the slightest bit and burrowed his chin in between Adar’s neck and shoulder, until their cheeks were essentially squished together. He needed the contact to ground himself, and suspected Adar did so as well, judging by the way the other’s fingers tightened over Celebrimbor’s hands.

"I know you are unused to sharing these kinds of concerns with another, but you can talk to me about these things. I will not think lesser of you, or doubt your feelings for me, if that is what you are worried about. I’m not one of your children, you needn’t protect me from your own doubts."

Adar hummed, and began to turn his own face to the side, and into Celebrimbor’s, as his eyes closed. His long, dark hair fell down over his shoulder and cascaded down his chest; the contrast between the blue fabric and the rust-shine of the black strands made for a beautiful contrast in the elf’s opinion.

"I see my thoughts must be written all over my face, to you at least," the uruk said, with a small tinge of humor. "I thought I had shielded myself enough for no one to glean them."

"Well, I see we both have that in common, then. You are indeed very adept at picking up on my moods and worries as well," Celebrimbor replied in the same fond tone, and stroked his thumbs over Adar’s stomach. The other gave a little shiver in response. "Truth be told, I am glad for it. I usually find my burdens greatly lessened when you do."

The uruk began to turn in his arms at those words, and the elf loosened his hold on the other to let him do so, though he did not fully remove his hands from the other’s body and instead let them slide over Adar’s hips as the uruk angled himself towards Celebrimbor.

He lifted his own arms and set them upon the smith’s, gripping the elf as if he needed to hold onto something to remain steady. He seemed uncertain, for a moment, and then stepped fully forward and let himself be embraced by his husband.

Adar’s face disappeared in the crook of Celebrimbor’s neck, where the elf could hear and feel his breathing even out, until it was once again steady. He wrapped one arm around the uruk’s waist and brought the other up to the back of his head, carefully carding his fingers through the strands of hair there.

The uruk took a shuddering breath. "I have been a father and leader for such a long time. I am not used to...this," It was clear to the smith what the other meant, and he nodded to indicate as such. "But you are right. It is easier to share a burden instead of carrying it alone."

The smith smiled, turned his head and kissed Adar’s temple.

"For all what it’s worth, I am honored you hold me in such confidence that you are willing to try," he answered. "It is a privilege to see you so vulnerable, that you trust me like this."

Celebrimbor brought down the hand in Adar’s hair and placed it at his husband’s cheek, slowly drawing him back. He pressed another kiss to the other’s forehead before he sought out to connect their eyes.

Thankfully, Adar tried to find his gaze just the same. The elf took it as a small victory.

"How about this – we leave the robes for the privacy of these chambers, for now. You can wear mine if you like, until you are comfortable enough to have your own be measured, or feel safe enough to leave off your armor around others. I will wear robes for the wedding, but I’ll tell the seamstress not to bother you any further. Or for anyone else to do so, for that matter," the smith promised, and then his smile grew brighter.

"And, should you wish it, I could repair your armor instead, so that it might protect you even better. It is, of course, merely an offer. One you may refuse if you so wish." He squeezed Adar’s hip encouragingly as he said this.

Celebrimbor couldn’t heal all of Adar’s ailments, or help him overcome all his doubts in this very instant, but what he could do was to offer his own kind of support – visibly, and tangibly, with the skills and knowledge he had.

And what better way to do so, than to improve a thing that had kept his husband safe for such a long time, so it might continue to do so? So that others might see that Celebrimbor not just accepted Adar, but was willing to champion him and all that made him as he was?

Judging by the way the uruk’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, he understood Celebrimbor’s intentions. His voice was quiet, but reverent. "I think I should like that. Taking your offer, I mean. I think I should like it very much."

The squeezed Celebrimbor’s upper arms and fully lifted his face to look the elf squarely in the face. His lingering uncertainty seemed to fall off of him. "Thank you, Tyelpe."

The elf’s face lit up in response to Adar’s words. He nodded, and couldn’t help but lean forward to catch Adar’s mouth in a small kiss. The uruk turned to him like a flower would to sunlight as he raised his chin in response, easily letting the elf bring their lips together.

They remained entwined as such for a long while, merely enjoying each other’s presence, and did not part even after their kiss ended, but simply leant against one another, with Adar wrapping his arms around Celebrimbor’s waist as well. Their breathing was the only sound in the room.

After what felt like a very long time, but was probably only a very brief amount, they drew back and regarded each other. Both of them were smiling now. Adar especially looked to be more settled; there were no drawn brows and no unhappy tilt to his lips anymore.

In the light of the slowly setting sun, he looked downright serene in that moment.

Celebrimbor knew exactly what he would soon be sketching, once he had some time to himself.

"Are you feeling better?"

The uruk did not hesitate before he gave Celebrimbor a nod. "I am."

"Good," the smith decided. He looked down at the robe that had, in part, caused all of this. "Do you want to keep wearing the garment? I can go and ask one of the guards to bring news to your children that you will stay with me for the rest of the day-"

"Actually," the uruk grinned a little, and flustered. His smile seemed almost self-deprecating. "I could use some help removing it."

Celebrimbor stared at him in question, not quite sure what the other was referring to. A stab of heat went through him- was the other implying…?

But then, Adar stepped back and lifted his arms in front of himself, pointing at the sleeves. They had been fashioned to fit snugly, which Celebrimbor oftentimes preferred to wider sleeves; working in the forges meant loose fabric could be quite detrimental to his own safety.

(He’d found this out the hard way, when he’d been much younger.)

If the fabric was measured to comfortably surround the elf’s wrists, it was now straining around Adar’s.

In fact, as the elf took in his husband’s limbs with raised eyebrows and an incredulous expression, he found that the sleeves themselves sat very tightly on Adar’s forearms, were in fact stretched tight over Adar’s muscles.

It made them look as if they were downright bulging. The smith suspected they must indeed be, in a sense. This discovery did nothing to cool the warmth that was spreading through his belly – he himself wasn’t quite as lean as people usually suspected due to the cut of his clothes, but Adar’s build was that of a warrior who had encountered many battles.

His body reflected countless hours of training, the skills he had aquired in hundreds of fights, and well. Celebrimbor found he was not immune to that. Not in the least.

And then there was another thought that suddenly came to him, and this one indeed made him fluster and stumble over his words when he spoke up next.

"O-oh, that is quite- yes, I think I see your predicament. Forgive me, these robes were measured to fit me, and I am not- well. Let me help you with that-" he offered, and reached forward to try and tug on one sleeve to losen its hold and pull it down.

In his head, this new heady thought reveberated.

The uruk’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head at Celebrimbor’s behavior. "What is the matter? Surely you aren’t embarrassed on my behalf for putting on clothes that do not quite fit me."

If he could have, Celebrimbor certainly would have flushed beet-red. As it was, he stammered some more and probably appeared like a deer caught before a hunter’s bow with how wide his eyes were.

"No-no, no, not at all-" This was ridiculous. He wasn’t some youth, besotted with his first love, anymore. Even if he sometimes felt that way as he was looking at Adar.

He bit his lip, groaned, closed his eyes as he shook his head, and pinched his brow as he gave a little laugh, before he focused on the uruk again. His expression now certainly conveyed his sheepishness.

"It just occured to me that you are, in fact, wearing my clothes. And- um," Why should he lie, even if his thoughts were perhaps juvenile. "I am realizing I quite like it. Both the thought and- and seeing you like this."

He wasn’t one for possessiveness, not truly, and yet looking at Adar in the light of this new discovery, he felt a certain sense of pride, and fondness, but also – more.

He couldn’t make up his mind on whether the thought of the other keeping on his robes or taking them off was more tantalizing.

Perhaps the sentiment reflected in Celebrimbor’s face, because before long, Adar caught the smith’s hands in his own and was stared at him intently. He tilted his head to the other side, and then blinked as he beheld his husband.

Celebrimbor’s smile was small, still sheepish, and he briefly felt the desire to hide his face in his arm. As it was, he merely lowered it enough to look at Adar through his lashes. Coyly.

"Hm," the uruk responded. It felt an awful lot like one of Celebrimbor’s 'oh's. His head tilted further and he turned it slightly, as if trying to see Celebrimbor from a different angle. Or maybe he was trying to figure him out. The look in Adar’s eyes was sharpening, and the elf could see his pupils dilate just the slightest bit.

"Interesting," the other finally settled on. Now, there was a smirk upon his face. It was full of mischief. Celebrimbor felt his breath catch at how attractively shrewd it made the other look. "Seems I have yet another reason to consider wearing robes more often."

The elf’s only response was a gasp, before the uruk moved forward and caught Celebrimbor’s lips in a kiss again. This one was decidedly less innocent than the previous one had been. The smith let himself melt into it as his husband pushed close once more.

Oh, he would truly be doomed if Adar continued wearing his robes, wouldn’t he?

But if this was indeed to be his immediate future, then the elf thought he might be quite prepared – enthusiastic, even – to embrace it.