Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling!) (Also thanks to Keiless, for the first few chapters)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This story follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to re-acquaintance in Imladris, where Glorfindel is a Lord and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 20 in this chapter, he looks like a 10 year old.




Prologue

The school system in Gondolin was unfair. He knew this. All the educators did. As did the Lords. Though no one did anything about it. Peasants were taught their two years of Beginners class. Few were able to afford a year of Intermediates and less still made it to the last two years. Thus it was laughable for any peasants to reach Expert standards, let alone the Master stage.

In the lower levels of the city they were taught in large classrooms filled copiously to overflowing. Shoddy equipment, few materials, funding was a joke; the tutors were driven mad with the amount of children and the few supplies they had. Student to apparatus quotient was three to one. No one could work in such appalling circumstances.

Well, almost no one. The students, despite everything, were remarkable. They knew education was a luxury their parents never had, and that their own wouldn’t last long, so they made the best of it. Never complained. Did their work on time. Got wonderful marks and received praise from everyone.

But never a reward. Not more funding. Not more supplies. Not more teachers or classrooms. More students, certainly. But nothing that would better their situation.

The children of the King, Lords and Ladies, and other high ranked officials however, were an entirely different issue. They had the best classrooms money could buy, more experienced teachers with greater knowledge and were given new equipment and supplies almost every year. And with Lords able to take a teacher’s small position of power away in a heartbeat, all students were passed, even if they deserved to fail. And, of course, all successfully passed Master level so they could follow in their parent’s footsteps.

Tamarin, educator of first year Intermediate teachings, despaired at his barely half-filled classroom. The brats that were taught here were no more interested in learning than they were in dirt. Arrogant, wilful, prejudiced and powerful. These children showed no one respect yet demanded it with their very presence.

The classroom itself was large and could seat just over forty pupils. However, in recent years Elf reproduction habits had dwindled in the time of peace they now experienced, and as such, barely half of the seats were filled. Fourteen boys, seven girls… and Erestor.

When Tamarin first heard of the proposal his heart swelled at the thought of teaching a student who really wanted to learn, most being there only because they had no choice. Tamarin had been expressly told not to show favouritism, not to help the boy any more than he would the other students, and not to let him pass the year without the necessary credit behind it. But, damnit, Tamarin was going to pass Erestor, even if it were to cost him his position as an educator. If he could help just one student reach their potential, then he would go to any lengths possible and necessary to do so.

He agreed to take on the student from the peasants first year Beginner’s class.

King Turgon had been made aware of the ingenious little boy a few weeks ago when every teacher gave their monthly reports to the Lords. Kamir mentioned a bright, intelligent lad in his class. ‘The most promising and gifted student I have ever seen,’ Kamir said. Turgon had deliberated long and hard, but had eventually agreed to advance Erestor to first year Intermediate. Kamir was pleased with the result, but pushed for Erestor to be allowed to learn with the children of privileged families so that he would attain an education deserving of his mental abilities, and later hopefully, a place in the Royal Court as Councillor.

Needless to say, the Lords and Ladies of Gondolin did not like the idea of a commoner attending school with their children. They argued day and night, threatening to take their children out of school should their King bow to a simple teacher’s wishes.

Turgon, however, saw the potential the boy showed in his schoolwork, and thought that if his gift was nurtured properly, he would be a great asset to Gondolin.

The other Lords grudgingly agreed, unable to find a single fault in the young one’s work, but still not liking the situation one bit.

And so Tamarin waited. Second term was about to begin and he was eager to start this unique individual’s education.

~*~*~*~*~

“I am *so* proud of you, Erestor,” Earane said, smiling through glistening tears as he looked upon his only child. Overcome with happiness, he swooped down and crushed the young one to him in a fierce hug. “Of course, I have always been proud of you, but today I can see a long and happy future laid out for you. You shall go far if you keep your head down, study hard and do well at this school,” he said as he withdrew from the embrace, but kept his hands on his son’s upper arms.

“Now, be good, don’t disrupt the other students and be sure to do your best. That’s all anyone can hope for, and there is no shame in admitting that something is beyond you. Be sure to ask the teacher for help. Unlike your previous school, there are not nearly as many students, and so Master Tamarin will be able to help you should you need it, all right? Stick to that, and you won’t end up like your old Elf here,” Earane half-joked.

“Adar, there is nothing wrong with what you do. If it were not for you, many would not own the exquisite jewellery they do, and we would have nothing to eat,” Erestor replied knowingly, wanting to show his father how much he appreciated all the sacrifices Earane had made for him over the years.

“But you have a chance to rise above your station, Erestor. You can become more than you ever could be should you stay here. Few have ever had this chance. I cannot afford to send you to school beyond next year and now King Turgon will be paying for your entire education. Now, I do not wish to put pressure on you, especially at such a young age, just… just do your best, alright?”

“Alright,” Erestor responded and hugged his father.

“You have your lunch?”

“Yes,” Erestor held up his food.

“You have enough ink, books and quills?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

“You have read all the books given to you to bring you up to date on what the other students have learnt over the past two years and first semester?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I suppose we should get moving. You do not wish to be late on your first day, do you?” Earane’s eyes took on a wistful look. “Your mother would be so pleased if she were here today.”

“I know, Adar. But do not fret, you are showing more than enough emotion to make up for her today,” Erestor spoke with a smug smile, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Oi! Little scamp!” Earane tickled Erestor’s stomach. “Alright, let us be off.”

Taking Erestor’s hand, Earane left their abode; a small 5-room house built onto the back of his workshop that was on the lower levels of the city and within the House of the Golden Flower. Together they walked up towards the House Palace, but veered off before reaching it. They crossed a park the students would obviously later use for exercise and stopped outside the only building in sight. Frowning slightly, Earane failed to see how all the students at every level of education could fit in this one room and hoped he was at the right place.

Walking cautiously up the few steps, he knocked on the open door to the classroom.

Tamarin looked up from his lesson plan and smiled. “Welcome. You must be Earane,” he walked out from behind his desk and towards the waiting pair. “And you, of course, are Erestor. I hope you enjoy your time here, but that you also learn many things this year.”

“Thankyou sir,” Erestor said a little timidly.

“Ah, Master Tamarin, I presume?” Earane asked uncertainly.

“Sorry, how rude of me. Yes, I am Tamarin.”

“Do all the students come here?” Earane asked, not being able to help himself.

Tamarin merely laughed. “Only those of first year Intermediate. There is generally one classroom in each of the houses, one for every level of education.”

“Oh,” Earane answered dumbly.

“Well, I shall leave you to say your farewells. I will be at my desk when you are ready, Erestor,” Tamarin said after a few awkward moments passed.

“Just remember, these are the sons and daughters of very powerful people. Try not to offend them, not that I think you will. But, be careful none-the-less. Again, be good, work hard and you shall go far, my son,” Earane whispered, then hugged Erestor once more before turning to leave.

Erestor slowly made his way to Tamarin’s desk, taking in as much of the classroom as possible, marvelling at its size and cleanliness. Eventually he came before the teacher’s desk and remained silent, waiting to be acknowledged.

“I have seen all your previous work. Wonderful! Simply superb from one so young,” Tamarin smiled gently, taking in the form of the twenty-year old. “I hope your marks do not fall now that you are in the more serious areas of your education.”

“I shall endeavour to achieve my highest possible grades, sir.”

Tamarin looked in mild amusement at the young one’s choice of words. None of his other students had ever spoken in such a distinguished manner. “Excellent. Well, why don’t we wait for the other students to arrive, and then we can begin the lessons. However, during the time, perhaps it would be prudent for you to choose a desk? I have only twenty-one students… twenty-two now that you shall be joining us. From memory, I believe no one has claimed any of the first row of desks, if you like being so close to the teacher, that is.”

Erestor put his bag down on a desk, noting soot from his father’s workshop fall from the sack as he did so. Worried as to his own appearance, Erestor brushed himself off, the black powder falling from his clothes as well, despite them being his best and washed especially for this day.

He did not have long to dwell on this, however, as moments later the first of the other students began to arrive.

Tamarin smiled as he noticed others entering the room and looked up from his notes, but his face fell at what he saw. This was obviously a ruse all the parents were in on to make Erestor feel inadequate. Every single one of his other students had their hair braided elaborately, indicating their rank and importance. And their clothes were more appropriate to be worn to a feast and hardly suitable for school. Tamarin was disappointed that his students could be so cruel and knew that Erestor had a long, hard struggle ahead of him before he would be accepted. If ever it happened at all.

“As you are all aware, we have a new student among us,” Tamarin said as he stood to address the now fully assembled class and gestured for Erestor to come and stand out the front for all the other students to see him. “I hope you make him feel welcome. This… is Erestor.”

Everyone took in his appearance and haughtily stuck their nose up at him.

~This is going to be a long year,~ Tamarin thought despairingly.



TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling!) (Also thanks to Keiless, for the first few chapters)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This story follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to re-acquaintance in Imladris, where Glorfindel is a Lord and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 20 in this chapter, he looks like a 10 year old.



Chapter 1

“Very good, Erestor. Who can spell ‘Gondolin’?” Tamarin asked. As the school year dwindled, the last week of term was spent reviewing the students’ retention of information and the ability to put it into context.

The small boy at the front of the class, directly under the tutor’s nose, shot his hand up. The other students scoffed at his eagerness to please and learn as they casually lounged at their desks, waiting for the school day to end.

“Anyone other than Erestor?” The teacher sighed in exasperation. It was not that he did not approve of Erestor’s enthusiasm for school, but rather that he wanted others to be given the chance also to improve their education, even if they did not care themselves. “Glorfindel?” he asked, noticing the blonde speaking to the boy behind him.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes at being singled out but stood none-the-less. “Gondolin. G-o-n-d-o-l-i-n. Gondolin.” He stated in a bored manner and then slumped back into his chair.

“Very good, Glorfindel. Now, who can spell- Erestor put your hand down, I haven’t even said the word yet,” Master Tamarin admonished gently while the other students snorted crudely. A rather pink-cheeked Erestor slowly lowered his arm as Tamarin sent a disapproving look to the rest of his class.

The year was almost over and Erestor was still as quiet and as disliked as he had been when he had first arrived. The rest of the students sat at least two rows back from him so as not to appear to be his friends. Tamarin suspected they were merely jealous of the younger child’s mental capacity. That, and the fact that their parents were still upset about Erestor’s relocation. It was a discussion the children no doubt heard constantly and perhaps took part in occasionally; their parents’ hatred passing on to them. However, that was still no reason to treat Erestor so cruelly, to make him feel inadequate in the place he spent most of his waking hours. Keeping him practically a stranger to those he had learnt with for the better part of a year was just unacceptable. Young though he may be, Erestor was beyond a doubt a highly gifted child.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tamarin knew class was soon scheduled to finish and that it was the second-last day for the year. “I think it rather obvious little work shall be completed today, class dismissed,” Tamarin said with a sigh, knowing he should not let the children out early, even though every teacher did so occasionally for a treat. The scuffle that ensued the moment the words were out of his mouth surprised even Tamarin. After almost two centuries of teaching, he doubted he had seen a classroom emptied as fast.

Returning to his desk, he looked up as he noticed a student still present, quietly reading.

“Class dismissed, Erestor. It is time to go home,” Tamarin said gently.

“Not true, sir,” Erestor said as he looked up from his book, his impossibly big dark eyes meeting his teacher’s. “Class does not finish until the main House Bell rings declaring it to be three o’clock. According to my calculations, there are still at least three minutes until then.” He continued reading.

The first time Erestor had ever spoken to him, using that same precise, knowing voice and dialect, Tamarin had been taken aback at hearing a child speak so sophisticatedly. Even more so a student of his! But as the seasons changed and the school year passed, he had come to the conclusion that Erestor was no ‘normal’ child. “Exactly what are your calculations?” Tamarin asked, perplexed as to how Erestor could so precisely tell the time.

Now it was Erestor’s turn to look confused as to why his teacher would ask him a simple question that had such an obvious answer. “Shadows, sir. When the bell rings the shadow of your desk reaches the exact corner of the floor meeting the wall. From this distance I predict it has a centimetre yet to travel.” Erestor returned to his book once more.

Tamarin looked on the floor and followed the shadow of his desk, created by the sunlight streaming through the window. The silhouette was indeed stretched out towards the wall, barely moments away from touching it. Tamarin was about to suggest that Erestor should go home early anyway, but knew from previous conversations that skipping class time was something Erestor would not do.

Sitting down, Tamarin continued writing the reports that he was to give to the students tomorrow, indicating their progress to their parents throughout the year.

A few moments later the bell that indicated the end of another school day rang and Erestor silently stood up and began to pack his belongings neatly in his shabby bag. Once finished, he did not leave, but instead stood silently before his teacher’s desk, waiting patiently to be addressed.

Tamarin inwardly sighed, wondering why the boy hadn’t spoken to him just before. “Yes, Erestor?” he asked, putting his quill to the side so he could speak with the young one.

“I was wondering if there was anything you might recommend me to read during the respite from school, sir?”

“Erestor,” Tamarin suggested seriously, “perhaps you should leave the books for two months and spend time on more recreational activities?”

Erestor face remained impassive and he said nothing.

“Recreation; play, amuse, entertain, gam-”

“I am aware of what the word means, sir. I do not, however, understand why you evade answering my question,” Erestor interrupted.

“I do so only to suggest a manner for you to spend the Summer that will be unlike the way you passed time in Winter.”

Erestor continued to look at his teacher indifferently.

Tamarin sighed again, clearly not getting through to the child. “I shall have a list for you by tomorrow.”

“Thankyou sir,” Erestor said and walked back to his desk, picked up his bag that was literally falling apart and left. On the way home, Erestor saw the other boys in his class running around on the large open field, playing before going home for the day. He had no desire to join them, nor did the others want him to, and so he hoped to sneak past them while they were preoccupied. His efforts to remain quiet and hidden proved in vain, however, when one of the boys called out to him.

“HEY ERESTOR!”

Erestor stopped, knowing to run would only result in a harsher beating. He looked at the six boys now approaching him, the rest lingering behind and a cold dread overcame him as he knew from experience what was about to happen.

“Tell me, how do you spell ‘stuck up’?” one asked mockingly as the others formed a wide circle around the dark-haired Elf and gave Erestor a push. The other boys laughed as he stumbled back into Glorfindel.

“Get away from me, peasant!” the Lord of the Golden Flower’s son screamed and he shoved Erestor forward with all his might. The younger Elf fell to the ground, the sound of more cheers and laughter occurring around him.

Erestor hit the dirt hard and heard his bag split as it had been threatening to do for some time now. Tears welled in his eyes as pain from his hands and knees exploded through his body, but he forced them down, not wanting to give the others the satisfaction of having made him cry. Silently he began picking up his possessions and stacking them just in front of him. Picking up his broken bag he slung it over one shoulder and reached for his books.

A foot stomped on top of them just as he was about to pick them up.

Looking up, following the leg, his gaze coming to rest upon the face of Galdor, son of Galshor, Lord of the Folk of the Tree.

“May I please have my books, my lord?” Erestor asked in a slightly trembling voice.

“Kiss my boot first,” Galdor replied with maniacal grin.

Erestor swallowed hard, but bent forwards, puckering his lips as he neared the footwear. He lowered his lashes in shame just as Galdor kicked out, his foot connecting with Erestor’s mouth and the younger Elf fell back onto the ground in pain. All the children laughed as they ran back to their other friends, some spitting on Erestor as they passed.

Erestor held his hands over his mouth, protecting the injured flesh as his body curled into itself and he wept silently at the cruelty shown him.

After a minute or two, Erestor stood, not wanting to give the children a chance to come back and harass him more. He picked up his books and bag, and shakily made his way home.

In the classroom it was much simpler. There was a teacher to ensure that the other students behaved themselves. It was easy for Erestor to pretend not to feel the bits of parchment thrown at him, or appear not to hear the rude comments directed his way when the teacher’s back was turned.

The girls never hurt him, though they made no effort to hide their hatred of Erestor, mostly by cheering the boys on if they stayed behind after class or during the lunch hour.

Galdor was the worst, closely followed by Glorfindel and Ecthelion. The rest joined in for the fun of it and because failure to abuse Erestor meant also falling victim to their bullying ways. Therefore, almost every day Erestor left school with a bruise that had not been there in the morning.

Erestor ran all the way home; hiding his bleeding lips behind his books as he entered. Not that it mattered for his father was not here, giving the Elfling time to clean himself up. Putting his things on the kitchen table, he then went to the bathroom to tend to the wound before taking his belongings to his room.

Well, his and his father’s room. Earane, despite working harder than ever, was not selling as many items as before, and had been forced to sell Erestor’s room to the people who lived next door, whom were expecting another child. As Erestor’s room connected to their house, all that was needed to make it a part of their home was to board up the door and create a new one so the neighbours could access it from their side.

Earane bartered long and hard about it, wanting the best price possible. But even then the money was all too soon depleted, and if work did not pick up soon he feared that he would need to sell the rest of their house and live in his workshop. Of course, all this was kept from Erestor. Earane despaired at how his son was being treated at school, but knew there was nothing he could do except wash the blood away and comfort him. Tamarin had sought Earane out one day, acknowledging that he knew of the children’s bullying, but as it was never executed in front of him, it was technically out of his jurisdiction. Yet he promised to step in should things ever get out of hand. Earane was grateful Erestor’s teacher had taken such a strong liking to his son, but knew not all would be as kindly to Erestor as he progressed through his education. With all that was happening at school, Earane did his best to hide their financial difficulties from Erestor, believing his son was stressed enough, he did not wish to burden a child more so.

Earane sighed, looking down at the circlet he held in his hands. It had been commissioned by Lord Galshor over two months ago and was finished in half that time, but the Lord was not satisfied with the final result and demanded Earane try again. Three times since he had taken it to the Lord, and each time, it had been rejected. Today, in the late afternoon, he had presented it once more, and again, it was deemed unsuitable. This time, however, Earane tried to ask for an advance on the payment. Having spent all his time, effort and money on buying the best equipment and materials for the headwear, he had nothing left over with which to look after his son properly, nor had he been able to buy food in over a week. The Lord sneered at his humble request before ordering Earane from his sight, Galshor’s son stood by his father’s side through it all, his mocking smile imprinted on Earane’s memory for life. He was just glad Erestor had not been there to see his humiliation but knew he would not be able to hide it from his son for long. No doubt Galdor would spread rumours of his disgrace tomorrow to the other students; yet another facet of his son’s life for them to use as ammunition against him.

Walking into the kitchen, he found Erestor once again making dinner for them both. Chicken broth from the smell of it, just like the past two nights… only thinner this time. Undoubtedly the soup needed watering down for there to be enough for them both.

“Ah, Erestor, I am rather full tonight… had a large lunch. Why don’t you eat all that?” Earane said, not wanting his son to go hungry.

“Father,” Erestor admonished, “you must keep up your strength. Did you go to the market today? You said you would three days ago when you delivered the circlet to Lord Galshor,” he added as he served the soup.

“I am sorry Erestor, I completely forgot,” Earane lied, not being able to bring himself to tell his son of their poverty, or his inability to sell his goods.

“Would you like me to go tomorrow after school?” Erestor offered as he began sipping his soup.

“Erestor, *I* am the parent, *I* am the one who is supposed to be looking after you, remember?”

“I know, but there is no shame in admitting you need help every once in a while. I am more than happy to be of assistance.”

Earane smiled lovingly at his son and cupped the young one’s cheek, a finger gently brushing over the swollen lips. “Surely I have been blessed by the Valar to have a child as wonderful as you.”

“I love you too, Ada.”

The two continued eating in silence.


TBC




A *BIG* thanks to those who read and reviewed the prologue. Hope you all found this chapter just as enjoyable.

Luv Mawgy

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling!) (Also thanks to Keiless, for the first few chapters)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This story follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to re-acquaintance in Imladris, where Glorfindel is a Lord and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 20 in this chapter, he looks like a 10 year old.


Chapter 2

“Please my Lord, I really must insist. If you do not buy this circlet today then I shall be forced to sell it elsewhere,” Earane spoke with a slight quiver in his voice. *No one* told a Lord what to do.

“Is that so?” Galshor said in an amused but superior tone as he inspected the modified circlet the next day. “Very well then, I shall give you 20 pieces of gold for it.”

“20 pieces, my Lord? Forgive me but we agreed on 50. The raw materials alone cost 30, not to mention two months of manual work,” Earane gently argued.

“Well, if you think you can find another to pay 50 pieces of gold for this, then be my guest. But I warn you, jeweller, if you walk out now, I shall never offer to buy it from you again. 20 pieces is the best you shall receive from me.”

“Thankyou for your time, My Lord,” Earane said, gathering the circlet securely in a cloth bag and leaving the chamber without looking back.

~*~*~*~*~

Erestor held his books under his chin; his inkwells were in a small pouch dangling from his wrist. He walked across the field to his classroom where the other students and teacher were gathered. As he approached, he saw pupils talking animatedly behind hands, their eyes fixed on him with occasional pointing. Galdor wore a rather smug expression.

It wasn’t the first time Erestor had arrived at school to this particular scene and it no longer bothered him. It was annoying, but did not hurt him as it once had. It was obvious more gossip was being spread about him, but as he was hardly Mr. Popularity, he cared not what the rumours entailed.

Master Tamarin called the class in as Erestor joined them, though stayed apart from the others. Everyone took their usual seats as they entered. Erestor walked up the stairs after everyone else and down the main aisle so he could access his desk. However Glorfindel stuck his foot out just as Erestor was level with his seat and sent dark-haired Elf flying.

Tamarin turned around from the blackboard when he heard a loud thump and items scattering across the floor. He was not surprised to see Erestor on the floor, nor his other pupils smirking, but courtesy required him to query Erestor’s well being, even though he knew the answer would be the same as all the other times.

“Erestor, are you well?”

“Yes sir, I… I tripped.”

“Really are clumsy, aren’t you?” Glorfindel snorted. The other students laughed.

“Glorfindel, since you are in a much more talkative mood today, perhaps you would like to start the lesson by repeating the two main rules that exist in this classroom?” Tamarin said before turning back to the board to continue writing up the day’s general lesson structure.

Glorfindel rose to his feet, sending Erestor a dark look as he did. Erestor swallowed hard, gathered up his possessions and continued the rest of the way to his seat as Glorfindel rose and recited the code all in Tamarin’s class were to live by.

“No student shall ever impede their education with their own laziness.
No student has the right to interrupt another’s learning,” he sat down again.

“Thankyou for that, Glorfindel. Today we shall be reviewing your knowledge of History. Who can tell me what year Gondolin was founded in? Yes, Erestor…”

~*~*~*~*~

The morning passed as it usually did; though most of the students were more disruptive than usual as it was the last day of the school year. The lunch bell rang at 12 and everyone piled out of the classroom to eat their sandwiches and play. All except Erestor, that is. He took his big book on Human Architecture and sat on the classroom steps to read, and bit into his rotten apple.

Once the others (whom had been sitting under a tree) had finished their lunch they resumed the game they had played yesterday after school, only this time the girls joined in. Erestor looked up after some time as half of the children squealed in delight. He watched as they hugged one another and acted as if they had just saved the world from evil. The other team, however, looked rather miffed and waited for them to settle down before starting the game again. Erestor’s eyes scanned each of his fellow classmates and for the first time started to wish he could join in with their fun. His gaze continued roving until it fell on Galdor, who was staring back at him.

Erestor swallowed unconsciously and quickly put his head back down to continue his reading, though he knew it was too late. Galdor smirked and began walking towards the classroom. Coming to a stop right in front of Erestor, he raised one leg to lean onto the step the dark-haired Elf was seated upon and lunged further towards Erestor, invading his personal space.

The other students, sensing mischief, walked over to witness Galdor’s new attack on the Elfling, though they all knew what it would be about.

Erestor slowly lowered his book and raised his head to look at Galdor, his lip quivering in anticipation and his eyes wide.

“Tell me, Erestor,” Galdor said calmly yet dangerously, “how does one spell ‘insolvent’?”

Erestor frowned at the question, wondering just how thick a Lord’s son could be. But not being one to invoke more punishment than was necessary, he began reciting the spelling. “I-n—”

“WRONG!” Galdor cut him off. The other children laughed.

Erestor frowned again. Unless a new alphabet system had been invented that he knew nothing of, he was positive he was correct.

“Try again,” Galdor said in a sing-song voice with a wave of his hand.

Erestor swallowed and tried again. “I—”

“WRONG!” Galdor cried out again.

“Not very good at spelling today, is he?” Glorfindel called out callously. The other children laughed.

Erestor began to worry more so than usual. All the other times he had been bullied, he had known what the others wanted. To beat him, give him a few more bruises, humiliate him, or discredit his value as the smartest student in the class. But this mind game, this was something new, and he did not know how to play. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes, frustrated with himself because he could not work out what Galdor wanted. That, and it was the first time anyone had ever said he was wrong at spelling.

“Would you like to know how to spell it?” Galdor asked in an acid sweet tone.

Erestor nodded his head slowly as he bit his bottom lip, not sure of what was to come.

“Insolvent. E-r-e-s-t-o-r. Insolvent. Poor. Broke. Bankrupt,” Galdor smirked down on Erestor as a silent tear ran down the younger Elf’s cheek. “Would you like to know who will be out of business by the day’s end?”

Erestor shook his head, not wanting to hear any more vicious words from the young Lord.

“I think I shall tell you anyway. Well, maybe spell it for you. You are good with words, are you not? See if you can recognise this word.”

The dark Elfling could feel anger stir within him, knowing what Galdor was about to say, but tried to curb it as he clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists.

“E-a-r-a-n-e,” Galdor smiled wickedly down on Erestor, the others also grinning behind him.

Out of all the thrashings, the rude remarks, the cruel actions and the snide behaviour shown to him this year, this was the most heartless. Erestor’s anger began to quickly build within him until it expanded into pure, unadulterated malice.

Galdor was chuckling softly at Erestor’s rather long, hard intakes of breath. The young bully was obviously pleased with his work and looked back at his peers to accept their praise. They cheered at his work then stopped suddenly as Erestor stood up, his face covered with angry tears and his mouth contorted into a malevolent snarl.

“WE ARE NOT!” he screamed and pushed Galdor hard in the chest.

Galdor fell back into the throng of stunned students and landed with a dull thud against Glorfindel and Ecthelion. All three then fell to the ground.

Erestor realised the implications of his actions the moment he touched Galdor, and looked down with wide eyes at the three Elves on the ground. They, in turn, looked at him with equally wide and shocked eyes… shock, which quickly turned to anger. They scrambled up and practically growled at Erestor.

“You *WILL* regret doing that!” Galdor called and pounced upon Erestor.

~*~*~*~*~

Master Tamarin was busy marking the small tests the students had taken just before lunch when he noticed the voices of the children playing on the field had silenced. Perplexed, Tamarin stood and looked out the window. At first he thought they had all run off, gone home since there was only half a day left of school for the year. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.

Opening a window, he was able to hear vague voices carried by the wind coming from near the classroom door. Frowning, Tamarin wondered why his pupils would be lining up to enter when lunch had had barely even started.

Coming back inside, he walked to the main entrance and had a quick peek outside to see what was happening. All the students were gathered around the base of the steps, focusing on Erestor. Tamarin sighed as he realised the children were obviously teasing his youngest and best student again. At times like this Tamarin was proud Erestor had not given up his studies yet, based upon what he had to put up with on a daily basis. But he did wish things could be easier for the little one.

Tamarin was about to return to his desk when he noticed a few students’ eyes were darting between the shaking child in front of them and a livid Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion, their eyes clearly showing that Erestor would understand the meaning of pain in just a few moments. Deciding to salvage the situation before Erestor was seriously hurt, Tamarin opened the door.

He was just in time. Galdor had launched himself at Erestor but came up short when the teacher stepped out.

“Well, since you all seem so eager to come back inside, we may as well continue with your lessons,” Tamarin said rather smugly. Erestor did not wait for a second invitation. He picked up his book, which had fallen from his lap when he stood, and darted inside before anyone else could move.

Galdor’s jaw clenched in barely controlled anger and he stomped inside the classroom.

That afternoon, the students were exceptionally quiet. The girls twitted amongst themselves quietly over what would befall Erestor once the school bell rang. Meanwhile Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion ground their teeth as they glared at the back of the dark-haired Elf’s head. The other boys watched their ringleaders’ faces become more aggressive and hate-filled as the afternoon wore on and grinned gleefully in anticipation of the after-school entertainment.

Erestor could feel the other students’ eyes boring into him from behind and as the afternoon progressed he sank lower and lower in his chair, until only his head could be seen above the desk. His heart palpitated with fear as the shadow of the teacher’s desk crept further along the floor.

Master Tamarin carefully surveyed his class and did his best to keep their minds off the impending punishment of his youngest pupil, but to little avail. None cared enough to even pretend they were paying attention, not even Erestor, his star student. Sighing at the pointlessness of it all, Tamarin let the children have free-study time for the remainder of the day.

Erestor picked up his book and buried his head between the pages. Everyone else carried on as before, but this time there was no annoying teacher to distract them from their musings every few minutes.

Time dwindled and with only ten minutes to spare, Master Tamarin handed each of the students their yearly reports and let them leave. All the students poured out the classroom but stayed on the oval, supposedly continuing their game from lunchtime. Yet not-so-discreet glances directed at the building every now and then clearly showed it was just a ruse.

Walking up the main aisle from seeing his students out, Tamarin circled the front desk and squatted down until he was level with Erestor.

“Erestor, would you like to tell me what happened during the break?” Tamarin asked in a gentle and concerned tone.

Erestor shook his head without looking up and stooped lower into his book.

“If you do not tell me I cannot help you.”

“No one can help me,” Erestor mumbled softly.

“And why is that?” Tamarin probed.

“I PUSHED A LORD!” Erestor shouted as he looked up and slammed his hands on the desk. “He can do anything to me now! Hurting me is the best I shall get! If he were to go to his father then I must give whatever he demands as retribution. Worse yet, my Ada may have to pay what little we have for the damage I have caused!” Erestor cried despairingly as tears started to fall down his cheeks and he collapsed back into his seat.

“How do you know he won’t hurt you and then go on to seek further vengeance?”

Erestor looked up from his lap fearfully, clearly showing he had not thought of that eventuality, but he said nothing.

“What was he doing before you pushed him?” Tamarin asked, wanting to keep the child talking.

“He was taunting me,” Erestor whispered, lowering his eyes in shame.

“Did he harm you physically?” Tamarin asked, looking for some reason as to why Erestor would finally fight back, having silently submitted to the other children’s abuse for so long.

Erestor shook his head, biting his lip.

“Was he threatening you?”

Another shake of denial.

“Did he promise pain was yet to come?”

Shake.

“Erestor,” Tamarin sighed, “you are not helping me here. What did he say to make you react so strongly?”

Erestor shook his head vehemently, too ashamed to voice the possible truth Galdor had uttered and the simultaneously lame remark that had sent him into a bout of anger.

“Erestor, please. If you do not tell me I can do nothing to aid you, neither in defence nor in support.”

Erestor breathed in loudly, wiped the tears from his face and looked up at his teacher in his usual detached manner.

“Have you acquired the list of reading material I requested yesterday, sir?”

“Erestor,” Tamarin said in firm tone. “Please tell me. I shall think no less of you.”

Erestor remained impassive.

“I will find out eventually, though by then I doubt I can be of any help to you,” Tamarin tried again.

“The list, if you please sir,” Erestor spoke resolutely. The teacher sighed in frustration and walked three paces to his desk to pick up the list of books for Erestor to read and placed it on the young one’s table. Erestor quickly scanned the titles and nodded to himself, believing them to be sufficient enough to further his education. Erestor, ready to leave, stacked his books, placing the list inside one of them.

“If you can spare two minutes I shall walk you home,” Tamarin offered as casually as possible as he turned back to wipe the blackboard clean. The door closing behind the small retreating figure was decline enough for him. Despite his desire to stop what was about to happen, he knew that interfering would result in a stronger punishment for Erestor, and would also bring some form of reproach upon himself. Sitting down he began to clean out his desk for the summer, doing his best to block out the commotion that was about to occur.

~*~*~*~*~

The moment Erestor stepped from the safe confines of the classroom all heads on the field turned to him, the ball rolling along the ground forgotten. Shaking, Erestor held on tight to his books and started walking home, avoiding eye contact with all near him.

Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion narrowed their eyes as they watched the slight figure with a bowed head and slumped shoulders walk along the field’s edge towards home.

Clenching his jaw, Galdor began striding towards the younger Elfling, his bully buddies following closely behind. The rest of the class gathered and walked behind, but with some distance between them.

Galdor’s quick pace and longer legs had him soon catching up to and overtaking Erestor until he stood in the other’s path. Glorfindel and Ecthelion came to stand just behind their target, one on either side, creating an engulfing triangle around him.

Gulping audibly, Erestor stopped in his tracks and raised his scared, dark eyes to Galdor’s hate-filled orbs.

“I am sorry for pushing you, my Lord,” Erestor said softly in a trembling voice.

“No, you’re not. But, you will be soon.” Galdor grinned maliciously, obviously enjoying the sight of Erestor trembling before him.

In the meantime, the rest of the class gathered in a circle around the four Elves, all struggling for the best view.

Faster than the eye could see, Galdor’s fist flew into the side of Erestor’s jaw. Erestor dropped his books and stumbled back into the waiting arms of Glorfindel and Ecthelion.

The scuffle had begun.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 20 in this chapter, he looks like a 10 year old.


Chapter 3

Earane wanted to surprise Erestor. Not only had the King bought the headwear for twice the price Galshor had originally promised, but had also asked for another two to be made for the same price! Earane was practically skipping on his way to rendezvous with his son as Erestor walked home.

Approaching the field in front of the classroom, he could see a group of children all huddling close together around… something. Earane merely shrugged it off. By the way the students were cheering and yelling, it sounded just like his old days, back when he was at school. The children then used to race frogs and made just as much ruckus as the children were making now.

Yet knowing Erestor was far too sensible to participate in such activities, nor would he be accepted into the other children’s games, Earane gave them a wide berth and continued his way to the classroom.

However, a pained yelp reached his ears, sounding very much like Erestor. Frowning, Earane changed course and headed back over to his sons’ classmates. Over a sea of heads, Earane was able to see three boys ferociously stamping, kicking, punching and screaming at something on the ground. Looking around Earane saw a dirty old book that once belonged to him that he had given to Erestor to read. Looking back into the centre of the circle, Earane watched as the boys paused for a moment, two of them dragging something up from the ground and the other spat towards the object, then his fist flew at full speed, punching the object one last time before it crumpled to the ground, battered and broken. He saw at the last second that it was Erestor when a spectator shifted her stance.

Panicking, the craftsman ploughed through the children, all of whom were too pre-occupied cheering to have noticed him before. Shoving his son’s attackers aside, Earane knelt down to examine his bloody and bruised offspring.

Cradling a limp hand in his own, Earane called out. “Erestor?… Erestor speak to me!… Erestor!… Oh no… no… nonono… Gods no…” he whimpered, trailing off, fearful too much damage had been done to save his child. The children watched the scene unfold before them speechless, unmoving, unimpassioned as tears of horror, shock and fear fell from Earane’s eyes as he looked his son over. After thoroughly but quickly inspecting the small body for major injuries, he gently picked Erestor up before jogging away as smoothly as possible, so as not to cause further harm to his son. He went to see Clorel, the master Healer.

Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion struggled up from the ground after being knocked over for the second time that day, landing in a heap of arms and legs. There was no remorse on their faces as they watched Erestor being carried away, only a sense of achievement and a new stroke of mischief stir within them. Smiling slyly to one another, they marched home.

~*~*~*~*~

“Cirilea! CIRILEA!” Earane shouted as he kicked his foot upon the wooden door, impatient for the she-Elf to come and grant him entrance. “OPEN UP!” The door slowly swung open on its hinges and a small, rather timid looking Elleth peered around the doorframe at her deceased best friend’s husband.

“Yes?” she asked, but was interrupted as Earane barged in, almost slamming her against the wall with the door as he brushed past.

“I apologise for my intrusion, but you must see to Erestor immediately. Please? I have been to all the Healers but they turned me away. Please? I know of no other who can help.”

“Why? What has happened to him?” she fretted.

“Those *bullies* in his class… no doubt punishing him for my failings… I shall explain later, just see to him, would you, please?” he begged.

“Of course. I shall do what I can, but I am not a qualified heal-”

“I do not care. Any skills are better than none right now,” Earane persisted as he lay Erestor down on the meal table and stepped out of the way.

He had first gone to see Clorel, whom had begun to examine Erestor carefully. However, barely five minutes into the session, a messenger had arrived and gave a note to Clorel, saying it was urgent. The Healer glanced at the note, his face paling in seconds as his gaze swung to Earane. He quickly packed his tools away and sent Erestor and his father on their way.

Shocked, Earane had only moments to indulge his confusion before turning to the next best Healer. However, he, and all the others that followed, either refused to see him at all or the same scene that happened with Clorel occurred all over again. Panicking Earane begged and pleaded for their skills with Erestor draped over his arms, but their refusal stuck.

Not knowing where else to go, Earane went to Cirilea, his dead wife’s best friend and the midwife whom had helped bring Erestor into this world.

“His injuries are grave,” Cirliea commented to herself as she divested the Elfling of his clothes.

“Can you help him?” Earane asked fearfully.

“I can, though it will take almost all night to bandage his wounds.”

“Do whatever you must,” Earane said strongly, though his voice broke in worry. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Boil some water and stay out of the way,” Cirilea ordered as she went to work on the small, unresponsive Elfling.

Many hours later, Cirilea lay aside her equipment and went to Earane, whom she had sent out of the room some time before, his constant fretting getting on her nerves.

“I have done all I can. His arm is broken and must be set by a proper Healer. He has a cracked rib and should not move much lest he makes it worse. Other than that, I have bandaged and cared for his injuries as best I can,” she informed wearily, having worked into the wee hours of the morning, the sun’s rising soon to begin.

“Thankyou Cirilea. You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for me. I thought I would die when every Healer refused to tend to him. Or worse… he would…” Earane sighed with worry and relief.

“Why would the Healers send you away though? It goes against every instinct they possess, both as a Healer and as an Elf,” Cirilea questioned.

“I do not know why they would not see him, only that they wouldn’t.”

“What did he do to sustain such injuries in the first place?”

“I found his classmates surrounding him while a few pummelled him. Though which ones in particular I am unsure. As soon as I saw Erestor hurt, beaten and broken on the ground, everything else faded away.”

“It would not even matter which children it were!” Cirilea gasped. “All of those in Erestor’s class are the offspring of very influential people. What did you do when you saw this?”

Earane looked at Cirilea in wonderment for a moment. “Well I didn’t join in, that’s for sure! I went to Erestor’s aid of course!”

“Yes, but how did you reach him? You said the students were ‘surrounding him’…?”

“Well, I ran through those watching and… knocked. The. Others. Away…” Earane slowed his talking as he realised fully what he had done.

“Yes, and if those picking on him are the ones I am thinking of, then their fathers would have threatened the Healers their jobs if they helped you. And now… they can do almost anything they wish to you…. I realise reaching your son was the forefront thought going through your mind, but your actions, well intended or not, still forced a Lord’s child into doing something he wished not to do. They or their parents will surely seek retribution now… The Healers sending you away will only be the beginning.”

Earane groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “And today started off so well…”

Cirilea sobered. “Well, for now you are going to take your son home, get some sleep and not dwell on the up-coming consequences of your instinctive actions. Just deal with them as they come. No point in worrying about them now. Besides, the King seems to have taken a liking to Erestor, perhaps he will intervene and be lenient should he decide on a punishment himself,” Cirilea counselled wisely, leaving her friend with some hope.

“You are right, as usual,” Earane said standing and walking back to his son.

“I have administered a pain-reducing potion. Here is another if he suffers much when he wakes. Try not to move him too much. And, if possible, see a Healer as soon as you are able. His arm must be set before it starts to mend, otherwise the Healer may have to re-break it in order to set it straight. And make sure he checks for internal bleeding. It is beyond my skill to determine if there is any. Also, I am somewhat concerned that Erestor has yet to wake. His head wasn’t too badly hurt, so it appears he was not knocked unconscious, though maybe his body is tired from having to heal such vicious wounds… I, I really cannot say. I am sorry I cannot be more help.”

“There is no need to be sorry. You have done all you can, that is more than what anyone else has done for me tonight. Thankyou… for your help, your kindness… everything. Thankyou,” Earane said as he left and carried Erestor home.

~*~*~*~*~

“He has a concussion, a broken arm, which has yet to be set. I would have done it myself, but I have not the training for such an intricate task. A cracked rib, possible internal bleeding, a black eye, several small cuts and numerous more bruises, your majesty,” Cirilea recited to King Turgon. He had heard of what had occurred the day before late last night, and, despite other Lords’ protests, he decided to deal with the matter himself and first thing in the morning. The preparation for the proceeding was rather rushed, but knowing that Erestor had yet to be fully examined by a Healer, it was also the King’s wish that this matter was dealt with as soon as possible so the young one could be treated.

“Thankyou, you are dismissed.”

Cirilea left, giving Earane a small encouraging smile as she passed.

Turgon sat back on his throne and sighed heavily, steadying himself before he gave his judgement. “I think it is disgraceful that Gondolin’s future Lords would act so basely, especially to one younger than themselves. Even more so when he was alone and defenceless and there were three of you! And though you may be many years from your Majority yet, that does not excuse your behaviour. While Erestor could be obligated to serve further punishment, after hearing his list of injuries, I find none is necessary, not that he would be able to cater those requirements in his current condition anyway.”

Quiet whispers and murmurs fell from several lips around the room and Turgon took a moment to gauge the general consensus. A few particular individuals were predictably upset with his ruling; some seemed almost happy, yet most had a look of surprise on their faces. Whether that was due to them expecting a harsher punishment, or that a peasant had never before been excused when a Lord demanded retribution, Turgon knew not. But Erestor was a unique case. Even at a young age, Turgon could see he would one day be working along side those trying to bring him down now. The sooner they started treating him like an equal, the better it would be for both parties.

Of course, now that he had let Erestor off, he had to make one of two choices. Give Earane the same ruling, or punish him twice as harshly to make up for the lack of reproach Erestor is receiving. The mutterings ceased sooner than he wanted, but realising they were waiting for the next sentence to be handed out, the King started.

Making a show of it, King Turgon looked to his left and smiled lovingly at his daughter Idril. “If ever someone lay a hand upon my child, I believe I would react in very much the same way Earane did. In fact, I would hope all parents were equally concerned about their offspring’s wellbeing.

“I would like it put on record that all Earane did to harm Galdor, Ecthelion and Glorfindel was to push them out of the way long enough to gather Erestor up and take him to the Healers. It is therefore my belief that none of them have sustained lasting injury, and as such, I see little reason in ordering Earane to make amends for his actions. I also firmly believe that Lord Galshor’s order for the Healers to turn Earane away is more than fair punishment for any parent to bear while their only child may be dying in their very arms. However, this shall be rectified immediately. I order for Healer Clorel to see to Erestor’s injuries immediately. And I also hereby revoke a Lord’s power to interfere with a Healer’s responsibility when attending to an injured Elf. I only hope that never again shall an incident like this occur, and never again shall a Healer turn anyone away from their practice, unless they choose to do so themselves. That is all,” he commanded and leaned back to listen to the chatter that exploded throughout the room. Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion had a look of wild anger covering their faces, while their father’s reactions were more controlled, but their fury shone through their barely restrained features. Again, most were surprised Earane had been released without punishment and that the King had made a new law without consulting his Lords first. With the session’s end, change surely seemed to be in the air in the hidden city of Gondolin.

Earane himself was numb. He kept pinching his left wrist with his right hand, felt the pain, but was unable to react to the sensation. His shoulders slumped in relief for his son and himself. After hearing the whole story this morning, Earane realised they had both pushed Elves of power and should be ordered to do the person’s bidding for as long as they wished, within reason. Yet somehow, King Turgon had miraculously decided they had suffered enough to make further reprimand unnecessary.

A gentle hand on his shoulder roused him from his state of disbelief.

“Earane, bring the boy to my clinic and I shall examine him at once,” Clorel said. Earane moved his head but did not turn around. He nodded his head once in understanding and watched from the corner of his eye as the Healer left. Facing the front again, Earane’s eyes met Turgon’s for a moment and gave his King a small, but very grateful smile, a quick bow and then left the Hall.

Minutes later, Earane watched on as Clorel washed, re-bound and re-examined Erestor’s condition, and also set his arm. Luckily there was no internal bleeding and his arm had barely started to heal, so there was no need to re-beak the limb in order to lay it properly.

Erestor had yet to wake since his father had found him and Earane began to worry for his son’s lack of consciousness.

“It isn’t common, but it does happen,” Clorel reassured him when Earane spoke of his concern. “He shall come to in his own time. Put simply, his body is not used to this condition, nor should it be, and as such it is working overtime to put things back together properly. His body is using a lot of energy to heal himself and not enough into bringing him back to consciousness.”

Earane nodded his head in understanding and started slightly when a voice spoke behind him. “Walk with me,” Turgon said quietly, standing in the doorway.

“Of course, my Lord,” Earane said as he turned, but motioned back to Erestor. “Though I would rather be here in case he wakes.”

“This shan’t take long.” Turgon insisted gently and walked out, leaving Earane no option but to follow.

“I am sorry that events have escalated to this end. Had I known how deeply the other Lords would disapprove of Erestor’s learning with their children I would have reconsidered my position and decision concerning your son. Or, at the very least extended my protection to him. A mistake I shall rectify shortly. Tonight I have asked all Lords and their families to join me for dinner. I will then announce that Erestor is not be harmed by them again until he has finished his Master qualifications.”

“What of the boys involved this time? Are they to receive any form of reprimand?”

“Unfortunately, no. It was well within their rights to do as they did. As much as I may wish to punish them, I cannot. I am sorry,” Turgon spoke softly, his demeanour clearly showing no lie to his words.

Earane considered his King’s words for a moment. “Well, thankyou, my Lord, but even so, I am not sure I would like Erestor to be exposed to those miscre- I mean children,” Earane caught himself, but Turgon shared a knowing smile with the craftsman. “I shall of course speak with Erestor before any decision is final, but I personally would rather him not to continue his education there. Or perhaps join another classroom, rather than one where there is a high population of House Lords’ children…?”

“Would you be able to afford to send him elsewhere? Regretfully I must adhere to my original arrangement to pay for Erestor’s schooling, provided he remains with the class first assigned to him. Change his classes now and the children there shall be just as bad after all the publicity this stunt has caused. Not to mention that there is barely enough students in each class per year level as it is; Erestor will either have to skip another year or be held down to repeat this year’s work if he is to find another class. I very much doubt either choice would be very beneficial to his learning. And personal tutors are very expensive. I am sorry I cannot be of more help. However, you are his father, the decision lies with you, just be sure to think hard before reaching a decision and what a quality education could do for your son’s future.”

Earane said nothing as they continued walking.

~*~*~*~*~

“I am sorry Ada,” Erestor said croakily when he came to that night, his father waking with a start after slowly dozing off in the chair he had pulled to the side of the bed.

“Oh my son, there is nothing to be sorry about. You did what you believed to be right,” Earane soothed him, idly stroking Erestor’s hair.

“Did I get you in trouble?”

“No, everything is already settled. King Turgon pardoned us both, but we shall speak of that later. For now, how are you feeling?”

“I hurt… everywhere.” Earane nodded his head, having expected such a reply.

“I have a pain-reducing tonic, if you would like some?”

Erestor slowly nodded his head, but the pain bubbling behind eyes forced him to stop quickly, yet Earane understood his son’s wishes nonetheless. Earane administered the potion and a large glass of water to wash away the disgusting taste.

Erestor soon fell back into a peaceful sleep as Earane carefully watched over his son’s slow progression back to health.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning Master Tamarin came by to apologise profusely for allowing this to happen, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He had also kindly brought Erestor all the holiday reading material he had asked for and offered to read them to his pupil once Erestor was strong enough to take in all the information, thereby also allowing Earane time to work while knowing his son was being watched over by someone. The craftsman desired very much not to leave Erestor’s side in the young one’s time of need, but also knew he could not afford to be out of commission just for wanting to care for his son.

Erestor drifted in and out of consciousness for the first week of his recovery. He woke only long enough to eat something, have half a conversation then fall back into a healing slumber in the middle of a sentence.

His superficial wounds had healed by the 10th day since the afternoon on the field. His bones had started to knit back together, and while they would take another few weeks to mend completely, Erestor was no longer confined to his bed during the day.

Earane had quickly made the other two circlets for his King during the first week of Erestor’s healing, trusting Tamarin and Cirilea to call him should Erestor’s condition alter drastically. Though they were not quite as exquisite as the first he had made, they were just as beautiful.

By the end of the third week, Erestor had read, or had been read half his requested reading and Earane had been assigned enough work to keep him busy for the entire summer. This pick up in business had been spurred on by a hastily organized, impromptu feast Turgon had decided to host one evening. He, his wife and daughter all wore the circlets Earane had made, showing off their beautiful, newly acquired wares. All present at the meal had inquired as to where they too could purchase such quality craftsmanship. Turgon was only too pleased to tell them and since then Earane had barely enough time to write down people’s wishes before another customer requisitioned something else. So busy was he that Erestor made up a little study area in a corner of his father’s workshop for himself, just so they could spend some time together. Again, Earane would have liked to hold off on work until Erestor was completely healed, but work in jewellery production was unstable. At times, requests would come thick and fast, other times slim pickings at best. Earane would be mad to turn down any offers just to spend time with his son, despite all that had recently transpired.

Now that he was reading on his own again, Tamarin came every few days to bring new books for Erestor and collect the old ones as the child quickly devoured all the books on the original reading list, and he was yet to be allowed to leave the house to go to the library for himself. Cirilea also visited the house frequently, usually bringing food to make sure Erestor’s body received enough nourishment and that Earane did not work himself to death.

Word soon spread about Erestor gaining King Turgon’s protection and Earane knew he would soon need to speak to Erestor about his educational future.

Three weeks after the incident, Earane was cutting up Erestor’s meat. While his arm was no longer broken, lack of use had left the limb rather sensitive and weak, but with light exercise, he should regain full operation of it within two weeks.

“Erestor,” Earane began, having finally gathered the courage to discuss the matter with the small Elf, knowing his son would most likely throw his own words back at him, and how many opportunities a good education would give him. “Are you looking forward to going back to school?”

“MmmHmm,” Erestor mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“You… you wish to go back then?”

Erestor nodded his head, still chewing on his dinner.

“What about the other boys? Are you not afraid they shall try and harm you again?”

Erestor shook his head. “No. Master Tamarin told me King Turgon has extended his protection to me.” Earane nodded his head, but frowned, wishing Tamarin had not told Erestor without his knowledge. Yet he knew that even so, he did not possess the strength to deny Erestor anything.

“Very well… just, be careful, please?” Earane hated the way he begged.

“I will Ada,” Erestor promised.

~*~*~*~*~

“Good morning everybody.”

“Good morning, Mistress Kamarla,” the class droned together.

“I have here a reminder to you that ‘Erestor, son of Earane is hereby henceforth under the protection of Turgon, King of Gondolin,’” Kamarla read from the parchment. Erestor meanwhile slumped in his chair in embarrassment. It was one thing for the King to give his protection, but it was another to have his authority on the matter flaunted on the very first day back at school. It certainly wouldn’t help him become any more popular with his classmates. But, given that his chances were always slim in regards to that eventuality transpiring, this would hardly make a dent in his reputation. “The way in which I interpret this message,” the teacher continued, waving the piece of paper around, “is that you are to basically pretend he does not exist. And, to help you, I shall do exactly the same… Lead you by my own example, as it were,” she said with an overly sweet smile. “So, if everyone would please turn to the introduction of your Elven Lore book, we shall officially start a new year of learning.”

Erestor frowned at the teacher’s words, wondering if she would do as she said, and if so, what would become of his marks if she pretended his work also did not exist? But the instructions to open his book soon filled his mind and he readied to begin learning all he could this year and he sat, awaiting further instructions once he had done as the teacher directed.

“Who would like to read out loud the first paragraph for the class?” Kamarla asked. Erestor’s hand was the only one that shot into the air. Yet the tutor looked past him as though he was not there. “How about you, Miss Luquanda?”

Erestor slowly lowered his hand, doubt of his decision to come back to school starting to sneak its way into his head.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 30 in this chapter, he looks like a 15 year old.



Chapter 4

Over the rest of his educational life, Erestor was no longer physically abused. The teasing and mocking comments were a constant occurrence, but he learnt from the day on the field not to react. By ignoring their petty and spiteful remarks, Erestor rendered all their ammunition useless. And while most gave up, Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were too proud to be beaten by a silent, emotionally detached whelp. Though for Erestor, he liked it most when they ignored him. Then he was able to study in peace and not concentrate on not reacting to their hate-filled words. Though every few years Erestor would have a teacher who did not approve of his learning with the children of Lords, and, like Kamarla, would also ignore and impede his efforts at every turn. This almost proved too much for Erestor when he was taught by Kamarla, but he soon accepted it as another part of school life.

Four other teachers had ignored Erestor like Kamarla had done. Kamarla was the worst, and Erestor recalled how it had taken him nearly all the first term of that year to accept that he was no longer a valued class member. But that had not stoped him from volunteering for every question, every assignment, every task. All had been overlooked, but he had felt he had accomplished something by not giving up. That, and the annoyed looks Kamarla occasionally thrown in his direction had told Erestor that his determined attitude had been starting to wear on her nerves. Erestor remembered how a sense of grim satisfaction had overcome him and how he had been pleased that his teacher’s efforts of ignoring him were not going to plan, unlike his, which he had not given up on.

However, his attempts to be noticed often came at a cost. Every piece of homework he had handed in were ‘accidentally’ dropped on the floor instead of being given back to him, all unmarked. And for the entire year Erestor was visibly worried that he might fail, should Kamarla refuse to grade his work. Failure of course meant no more education, and not only would his future prospects have looked blank indeed, but the faith King Turgon had placed in him would be lost. Worse still, Erestor would not have been able to handle seeing the disappointment in his father’s eyes. On the last day of school of his second year of Intermediate level Erestor was literally shaking with fear at the prospect of being unable to progress to the next school year level.

When everyone had vacated the room at the end of the year, the teacher included, Erestor slowly stood from his chair and collected his report from the floor. Returning to his seat, Erestor’s hands trembled as he held the envelope that contained his grades from a year’s worth of hard work. The reports were to be opened by the parents and shown to the children at the adults’ discretion. However, Erestor did not want to show his father his report without knowing what was written on the paper.

He sat there for a good half-hour before being able to unfold the paper and read the contents for himself. He just remained still as his heart drummed so hard within his chest cavity that he thought it might soon convulse so hard it would blast its way out of his body and catapult itself half way across the room.

Eventually, Erestor gained the strength to open the paper and revealed to himself a bare pass for the year. Somehow, Erestor had been awarded the minimum amount possible he needed to advance to the next year without having any of his work graded. Before he knew it, Erestor was weeping in gratitude and relief onto his desk. It was not up to the usual standard his work normally was, but it was enough. Now he hoped his father would be just as pleased.

Picking up his bag, Erestor slowly trudged out of the classroom, pocketing the report as he went. On his way home he passed Galdor and his cronies, happily sharing around their reports, not caring that anyone walking past could see they were doing what they should not.

Galdor watched as he passed, a miserable expression on Erestor’s face.

“Ah! Another perfect! Mistress Kamarla has given me faultless marks all year! How about you, Glorfindel?” Galdor spoke louder than necessary, making sure his words carried to a doe-eyed Erestor.

“Just as I expected. Perfect! Ecthelion?”

“Ah, you two work so hard I can barely keep up! Though somehow, this year I have equalled your achievements! In fact, it looks as though our lovely teacher has given us all excellent marks!” Ecthelion called out, grabbing all the reports from everyone near him and looking them over.

“But, why if she has awarded us all faultless grades, does poor Erestor look so disheartened?” Galdor asked in an overly sweet tone. With his forehead scrunched in a frown, he moved to intercept Erestor on his way home. “Well, what have we here?” he asked as he saw the report poking over the top of Erestor’s pocket and snatched it.

Erestor stood patiently, waiting for Galdor to stop laughing and give it back. “Why, Erestor!” he said almost shocked when the chuckles subsided. “According to this, you are no longer the smartest in the class! In fact, you would have to be the dumbest!” Erestor kept his eyes on the ground, but raised his head and shoulders, refusing to cower in front of the bullies. Galdor snorted at Erestor’s resilience. Coming in closer to the younger Elfling, Galdor whispered harshly into his ear. “Just you wait. A few more years, and then, there will be no one to protect you. On that day, you’re mine!” Galdor backed up before scrunching up Erestor’s report and threw it at him. “See you next year!” Galdor spoke with scorn and the promise of more harassment to come.

Erestor picked up his report and marched home, not letting Galdor’s harsh words affect him outwardly.

Once home, Erestor slowly walked out to his father’s workshop, his report in hand.

“Erestor!” Earane called the moment he spotted his son, a smile spread wide on his face. “Is that your report?” he asked as he approached.

“Mmmhmm,” Erestor nodded.

Earane leaned down to take it from his offspring. “Why is it all scrunched up? And why did you open it? Could not wait to see what marks you received?” Erestor looked slightly guilty and nodded again. “That’s alright. I remember many students doing that when I was younger,” Earane reassured as he attempted to take the paper from Erestor’s fingers, now clamped around the report. “Erestor, let me look at it.” He ordered gently. Erestor let go and Earane took the crumpled paper from his son’s hands and read the comments.

Breathing deeply, Earane looked at his son’s forlorn expression and downcast eyes. “Oh, Erestor, it is alright,” Earane spoke gently, swooping down to give his son a supportive hug. “Master Tamarin told me last year that Kamarla was none too pleased with you joining this school. In fact, he said she disapproved more than most of the parents! Though I would have hoped you had told me she was being unfair to you.”

“How do you know I did not do my work and truly deserve those marks?” Erestor asked, his diplomatic skills already kicking in at such a young age.

“Erestor, I *live* with you! How could I watch all the hard work you put into your studies and expect you to bring home marks like these?”

“Perhaps I got all the answers incorrect?”

Earane levelled his son with a look clearly showing his disbelief.

“It could happen,” Erestor replied with a sulky smile.

Earane matched his son’s smile with one of his own. “Erestor,” Earane placed a kiss on Erestor’s forehead, “I wish you had told me of this earlier. I might have been able to help you then.”

“It does not matter any longer. The year is over. I shall have another teacher next year.”

“Speaking of teachers, Master Tamarin came over right after school and left a list of books for you to read over the Summer. Apparently he anticipated Kamarla’s unwillingness to make one for you herself and so he took the initiative and wrote one for you. It is on the kitchen table, if you would like to run up to the library now and retrieve a few books.”

“Yes, thankyou Ada.” Erestor reached up to kiss Earane’s cheek before rushing out the room. The craftsman watched his son’s rapidly retreating form, then back down at the report and sighed worriedly, hoping one teacher’s cruel intentions would not mar Erestor’s image when the time came for him to enter into a profession.

~*~*~*~*~

A few years later, however, it seemed as though all Earane’s fears were being put to rest as Erestor bowed low to the King and received his Masters certificate, with a special honour of being the top scoring student in the class. A distinction, which automatically entered Erestor into the King’s service in whatever field he desired. Wanting to be an Advisor, Erestor chose to join Turgon’s staff and be taught by scholarly and diplomatic Elves. To start, he was to be an apprentice Scribe to Tebring. Albeit, he was a low ranked Scribe, but it was a foot in the door for Erestor nonetheless.

If nothing else, the experience with Kamarla and the following teachers whom acted similarly towards him, taught Erestor to be more self-sufficient than ever before. This lead to his outstanding work, marked or not, and his relentless quest for knowledge easily caught many an eye. Interest in his abilities from an early age gave Erestor great confidence. And though King Turgon had offered Erestor a position as an Advisor’s Assistant in the city’s court, a position usually given after many decades of hard work, Erestor politely declined the position, believing he should start at the beginning and work his way up to gain further experience and insight.

Moving off the raised podium, Erestor returned to his father’s side, doing his best to keep the elated look off his face, but failing miserably. Earane hugged Erestor fiercely and pulled back to look upon his grown son dotingly. No longer a child, but not yet passed his majority. Erestor had inherited his mother’s pale skin; so white was he that some assumed him to be ill. Yet the faint pink smudges on his cheeks, often darkened with embarrassment proved that hypothesis incorrect. Erestor’s hair was perfectly straight and inky black with a hint of blue when the sun caught his luxurious locks. Earane’s mane was not of the same quality as his son’s, but it was just as dark, though many often joked that his hair was actually gold, darkened by the soot from his workshop. Yet what Earane could not fathom was Erestor’s eyes. As dark as a moonless night, warm enough to portray all the love of the Valar, yet so piercing one felt as though they were being turned inside out with just one gaze from him. No one on either side of the family had ever had such interesting yet somewhat disturbing eyes. His build was just as slight as his mother’s, his features just as delicate. But to think of his son as fragile was a big mistake. An aloof appearance, a sharp wit and a temper so cold it burnt often left his opponents recuperating damaged egos for weeks.

Earane’s smile towards Erestor was blinding, but was soon shoved out of the way by Cirilea so she could wrap her arms around the star of today’s ceremony. Erestor almost bounced off her eleven-month pregnant stomach, but managed to right himself again as he hugged her back.

“Come dear, let the boy breathe,” Master Tamarin said, noticing Erestor going slightly blue. “Congratulations, Erestor. I always knew you had it in you,” Tamarin shook Erestor’s forearms once his wife of four years had moved aside. Their short courting period started one day when they were both visiting a recuperating Erestor ten years before. It was followed by an even shorter engagement, and to most people’s surprise, a child was expected within three years of their marriage. Usually two Elves would slowly develop a relationship, wed and give birth over a longer period of thirty or more years, unless it was organised by parents for political benefits. However, any watching their particular relationship could blatantly see the fierce passion they held for one another, and so, to any who knew the couple well, the wooing period was more than appropriate for them.

“Thankyou, Mas- Tamarin,” Erestor blushed at almost reverting back to his old habits and placing himself in the role of the student before one of his now closest friends. Tamarin gave him a reprimanding smile, squeezed Erestor’s forearm, then let go.

“Forgive us, Erestor, but the Healer has demanded Cirilea to rest during the last month of her pregnancy. Congratulations again, and good luck with your apprenticeship,” Tamarin said, practically dragging his wife away. Cirilea sent an apologetic look to Erestor before following after her spouse.

Erestor looked back at his father and smiled again, unable to keep his good mood contained within himself.

“Come on, son, King Turgon is throwing a feast in your honour tonight. We had best get ready for it.”

Erestor rolled his eyes. “Father, he is not holding the celebrations for me. It is to congratulate everyone for passing their Masters.”

“Erestor, leave me to my delusions, would you? You received full marks, top of your class, and will be moving into the palace within a month. Let me enjoy the thought that this meal is being thrown for your achievements, please?”

Erestor smiled, delighted at his father’s words, and moved his arm to rest around the waist of the other Elf.

~*~*~*~*~

Erestor and Earane entered the Hall and looked around cavernous room. All the students, their parents, teachers, other Lords and officials and of course, the King, were spread around the Hall casually speaking to one another, waiting for dinner to be served. King Turgon had commissioned for two new garments to be made for Erestor and his father for the feast, knowing they would be looked down upon more so than usual should they come in their own clothes.

Erestor wore a dark blue robe to match the highlights of his hair, bringing out the fairness of his skin and emphasising the colour of his eyes. The material clung to his body, accentuating his slim physique yet flared out over his legs to leave some things to the imagination. A fine silver circlet, embedded with opals sat upon his head, a gift from his father before Erestor was even born and this was the first time he had ever worn it, keeping his hair away from his face, the rest left unbound and flowing freely down his back.

Earane was dressed similarly in green, but had a darker velvet green outer garment, covering much of his robe and was left open at the front. A circlet of gold with emeralds was woven into his braids.

The two looked at each other with awe and something akin to fear as they took in their surroundings. Feeling out of his depth, Erestor began to fidget with his hands, his normal composure beginning to crack. Seeing all the Elves who had tried to cease his education all gathered in one room suddenly overwhelmed him and he very quickly felt the need to flee. Earane saw the panic beginning to set in his son’s eyes and placed a steadying hand on the younger Elf’s shoulder. Expected to mingle, Earane led Erestor through the crowd to where his teachers were situated, deciding it would be best to ease Erestor into speaking with those higher up, as his new job would eventually entail, but to start off with some familiar faces first.

The teachers had gladly invited Earane and Erestor to join their conversation, with the exception of a few Kamarla included who walked off the moment they saw the duo come towards the group.

As the evening had worn on, King Turgon made his rounds and had delightfully introduced Earane and Erestor to many Lords, Ladies, Warriors, Advisors and Scribes. Erestor was very excited to meet Tebring, the Elf whom he would be working under once his apprenticeship began. All his fellow students and their parents still looked down upon him and his father, yet dared not say anything untoward in front of the King. However, overly polite tones and gestures spoke loud enough about their personal feelings and thoughts.

Dinner was truly a meal of magnificence. Thankfully, seated next to his father and his second year Expert, teacher, Erestor greatly enjoyed the small talk around the table and found himself joining in quite emphatically, though usually he was quiet in a group situation. Earane shot a few glances towards his son whenever he spoke, knowing he had a child worthy of being overly proud of. His thoughts and ideas were calculated, precise and able to win over even the strongest competitor.

It was in this moment that Earane realised how much he would miss Erestor once he moved out and started his own life, but at the same time realised it was inevitable and could not be stopped, however much he wished he could. The only action he could take now was to ensure the transition went as smoothly as it possibly could, for the sake of his son.

After coming to this conclusion, despite all the wonderful foods around him, Earane lost his appetite. He quietly sulked to himself, pushing his meal around on his plate with his fork, though none noticed except for Erestor.

Once the meal ended, many couples moved to the area reserved for dancing and moved in time to the music played. Erestor was still deep in conversation with one of his former teachers when someone asked him to dance. Looking around, Erestor was shocked to see it was one of the King’s most respected Advisor’s. Unsure of what to do, Erestor remained quiet and allowed himself to be led away.

A few of the educators shared a knowing smirk with one another, but Earane’s eyes narrowed as he saw just how close the Counsellor had pulled Erestor to him. Ready to go yank them apart, Earane couldn’t help but titter as Erestor stepped on the Advisor’s foot and the elder Elf cried out in pain. His son had never been privy to dancing lessons and as such, always seemed to make a mistake with all the Elves that eventually asked him for a spin around the dance floor.

Erestor was finally allowed a break almost an hour later. In dire need for escape, and a chance to sit down, he managed to excuse himself and went into the gardens for a breath of fresh air. Inhaling deeply he sagged into the stone bench, allowing his feet to rest for a moment. He had never been so embarrassed as when he accidentally tripped the King over into another couple and sent them all flying. Though somehow, the other Elves had yet to grasp the fact that he was not a good dancer and continued asking for his attention. Luckily, none of his fellow classmates or their parents had asked for a dance, and for that, he was grateful. He could just see now how Galdor would ridicule him in front of everyone and no doubt would also demand retribution for the injury Erestor had caused him. However, as it was, all his partners had taken his clumsiness in good stride. One even allowed Erestor to continuously bump into him, step on his foot and stand on his robe for almost ten minutes before he finally conceded Erestor did not make a good partner and hobbled off, throwing a miffed expression towards the dark-haired Elf’s new partner, which appeared only seconds after he had left. Erestor was rather taken aback by all the attention he was receiving, and try as he might to escape, someone else always cornered him before he could leave.

At one point, Erestor had thrown his father a look which clearly said ‘save me!’ Yet Earane merely sat at the table, throwing Erestor a ‘get yourself out of this one’ look and continued his discussion with the Elf seated next to him while Erestor suffered.

“Nice dancing!” Someone snarled behind the young Elf, rousing him from his musings. Standing and turning around in one flowing movement, Erestor saw three bodies coming swiftly towards him. Erestor began to panic. He was no longer at school, and as such did not hold the King’s protection. The fear he felt that day on the field began to resurface, and Erestor knew ten years of pent-up frustration was about to be released and aimed at him.

“My Lords,” Erestor said respectfully, bowing his head in submission.

“You call that dancing?” The only blonde in the small group retorted.

“You’re right, Glorfindel, that was more uncouth walking,” Galdor spat.

“I am sorry if I offended you, my Lords,” Erestor said meekly, not wishing to give them another reason for hurting him.

“Offended us? Please! You are an offence to all elves, EVERYWHERE!” Ecthelion spoke up.

“Then I shall leave so you are no longer offended by my presence,” Erestor tried tactfully to leave, but was pushed back by a strong hand on his shoulder as he tried to rush past. His nervousness began to show as his breathing became audible and his hands perspired.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Galdor sneered at the frightened Erestor.

“My Lord, I-” Erestor began in a shaken voice, but was cut off.

“You what? Thought you could escape what has been coming your way for a decade!?” Glorfindel shouted as Erestor cowered away and began stepping back as the three advanced on him.

In a flash Galdor rushed forward, hooked his leg behind Erestor’s and pushed the other away harshly. The younger Elf landed hard on his bottom. Smirking down at his trembling former classmate, Galdor raised his fist, ready for the striking blow. Bracing himself, Erestor closed his eyes and awaited the inevitable.

“Issh anybody out zair?” King Turgon called out into the night, vaguely seeing the outlines of a few Elven forms. Cursing at the ill-timed intrusion, Galdor sent Erestor a spiteful look before turning back to the King.

“Just us, your majesty,” the three bowed low as they walked up to their Lord.

“Well, come back inshide where the drinksh flow fweely and good company ish to be shhharrred,” he slurred and stumbled a little as he led the three young Lords back inside.

~*~

Erestor remained on the ground for some time, so relieved at the King’s intervention, planned or not, that tears of explicit relief fell unchecked down his cheeks. His hands shook with fear yet to be dispelled and his heart continued pounding hard beneath his breast.

The sound of footsteps soon brought him from his musings. Looking to the doors leading inside, Erestor could see his father coming towards him. Jumping up and wiping the tear-tracks from his eyes, Erestor sat back down on the bench he rested upon before the intrusion and waited for his father to find his rather obvious hiding place.

“Erestor, there you are!” Earane half chuckled to himself moments later. “Everyone knew your dancing was bad, but did not mean to frighten you off. In fact, there are another five sweet looking Elleths awaiting a chance to dance with you inside…”

“Thankyou father, but I feel I am ready to go home. Public humiliation has never been a favourite pastime of mine.”

“No one meant to humiliate you, Erestor. They just wished to spend time with you. I have seen many a glance stray in your direction tonight,” Earane said in a matter of fact tone, but with a hint of disapproval.

“Father!” Erestor reproached. “I think I am too young yet to think of such things.”

“I know,” Earane sighed as he sat on the seat next to his son. “But I cannot deny you are fair and appeal to many. This I have no control over, however I wish I might. And with you moving into the palace soon… I fear for your safety without my presence lingering in the background.”

“Father, you know they cannot force me into anything of *that* nature until I have reached my majority,” Erestor comforted his dad, hugging the elder Elf and holding him tight.

“I know… but I worry for you all the same.” He kissed the top of Erestor’s head.

“You would not be my father if you didn’t,” Erestor retorted with a soft smile. Earane joined in with a hearty chuckle and squeezed his son closer to him. “I will miss you when I leave, but I shall have every Sunday off and will come visit you then.”

Earane eased Erestor back from him and smiled gratefully at his son. “I would like that. Come, let us go home.”


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R/ NC-17
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: ATTEMPTED RAPE!
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: In the last chapter I said Erestor was 30, sorry, but he should have been 28 while his classmates were 30, so he looked like a 14 year old. In this chapter he is 48. Sorry, and thanks,

WARNING!!! Attempted rape! Do not read if you are not legally allowed to. Do not read if this offends or horrifies you!

Heed my advice before you go on, I refuse to be held accountable for your lack of judgement.



Chapter 5

“Here is that invoice of all historical books you requested, Master Tebring,” Erestor said, handing multiple pieces of parchment to the older Elf. “None are missing,” he added when Tebring began looking over the list.

“Very well,” he said, nodding his head in satisfaction, “you may begin the stock-take on linguistic books.”

“Of course,” Erestor said with a bow and headed to the library catalogue, taking all the language book cards with him.

Erestor had been working hard in the library under the tutelage of Master Tebring for almost twenty years now. Tomorrow should be the day he was appointed to Scribe; however, due to being a few years younger than all his peers when at school, Erestor wished to continue in this position until his majority when he would be promoted. There was to be a grand celebration held tomorrow, as all those from his class would be given a certain rank in whichever occupation they chose. Erestor knew for sure that Glorfindel, Galdor and Ecthelion were entering the ranks of their respective father’s armies, as were a few others, the three he worked with as an apprentice scribe, Luquanda, Talor and Seremela, were to be Scribes. Others had used their parents’ influence to be appointed to position of Advisor long before they were qualified, yet too eager to wait any longer. Some chose not to go into any occupation, instead travelling or waiting for their parents to retire so they could take over their relatives’ jobs. Though most of the females stayed at home and waited until they were old enough to be courted and married into a well-off family, which for most occurred this past year.

Erestor had been offered the choice to graduate with his classmates, but declined the offer, wishing to wait until he was of the appropriate age. He had also been invited to join in the festivities, but again, he decided to take the day off and visit his father, as all palace officials would be with those taking their first step into the world of responsibility. Having been locked up in the library for most of the past twenty years gave him very little time to do anything other than work, eat and sleep, let alone see those he went to school with. Besides, they were busy with their own apprenticeships. Those who entered into the armed forces were often away on scouting practice and war games, those who stayed at home threw lavish parties that only the most refined could attend, some were busy gaining favours and the ears of very powerful and influential Elves, and few had left Gondolin long before their majority.

All in all, Erestor had seen very little of any whom he graduated school with. The three whom he worked with in the library had created a very rigid and formal friendship that ended the moment they left their work area. Erestor admired all their abilities, Luquanda’s especially, and would miss them terribly after tomorrow. Yet there were more entering into Tebring’s service in a week’s time so Erestor would not be alone for long.

Erestor wished Luquanda, Seremela and Lindal good luck before finishing for the day. Like himself in a few years’ time, they would spend ten years as a fully trained scribe and would then either chose to tutor apprentice scribes as they left school, as Tebring and many others like him did. If this did not interest them, they could then become an apprentice Advisor, then ten years later an Advisor, provided they followed the normal procedure. Erestor longed to become an Advisor, but thought he might teach apprentice scribes at least once before moving on, but there was plenty of time to make up his mind for sure.

For now though, he stopped by the kitchens to pick up his dinner then proceeded to his rooms. Apprentices were not paid as such, but their meals and accommodation were supplied free of charge. It was nothing fancy though. Down underneath all the main courtrooms, dining rooms and officials rooms was where all the servants, including the apprentice scribes, stayed, although some remained at home with their parents, provided they lived close to their place of work. Yet, given that only the higher ranking Elves’ children were properly educated and that most lived in the Palace, it was common practice.

Erestor’s room was rather small and bare, though a few personal items gave it some life. There was a bed and small set of draws in one corner, a table and chair in another, a wardrobe in the third and the door in the last. A small window gave him the magnificent view of the alley behind the kitchens, along with thrown-out rotting food. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The table was used mainly for dining purposes, though also made a good study area if ever Erestor wished to get ahead late at night on a project Tebring gave him.

Finishing his meal, Erestor turned in for the night.

~*~*~*~*~

Quietly entering his father’s shop the next morning, Erestor sneaked into the workroom, wanting to surprise Earane, but was puzzled to not see his father hard at work, as he had expected. Frowning, he went through the door that connected to the house and heard voices coming from the kitchen. One he recognised as his father’s, the other he had not hard before.

“Oh please, Earane, everyone knows of Erestor! I have the utmost faith he will do right by her. Stop trying to talk me into it, I was more than willing when first you came to me!” the unknown voice said. Erestor stood still in the hallway, frowning as he discovered that he was the subject of their conversation and wondered what his father was planning.

“Very well, Erestor comes home every Sunday, if you and Silindrical would like to join us for lunch, we shall do the introductions then.” Erestor’s father declared.

“We would be honoured. And I shall have Silindrical make an apple pie… she makes the best! If I do say so myself,” he chuckled.

There was a pause for a moment, then Earane asked in a lowered voice, “have you told her of our plans?”

“I have. I can keep nothing from her. Also I thought at least one should know so they can direct their friendship in the direction we are hoping for.”

Earane snorted in a most undignified manner. “Erestor is sharp of mind. He shall work out what is going on long before lunch begins!”

The other joined in the soft chuckling. “It will make for an interesting afternoon then. Now, I am sorry, but I really must get back to work. I shall see you Sunday, around twelve?”

“Twelve is perfect,” Earane said, barely audible over the sound of chairs scraping along the floor. “Namarie.”

“Namarie.” The front door clicked closed soon after. Earane’s face had a certain self- satisfied look upon it, which fell the moment he entered the hallway and found Erestor standing there, an eyebrow lifted and his hands on his hips.

“Hello father,” he drawled. “What exactly are you planning, pray tell?”

“Erestor?!” His father called, as if to make sure he was not just seeing things.

“It is I. Now what is it you are planning that involves me?”

“It is not Sunday,” Earane answered, still bewildered.

“Nay it is not,” Erestor replied formally.

“Why, then, are you here?”

“Do not think that by changing the subject I shall forget you owe me an explanation. I am here because all the students from my class are graduating to proper occupations today. As such, I have been given the day off, as Master Tebring will be attending the ceremony. I had hoped to surprise you with a visit, which I obviously have done. Now what is it you have devised to occur on Sunday at lunchtime?”

Earane groaned inwardly and his shoulders slumped minutely. “Come have some tea and I shall explain everything,” Earane suggested and moved back to the kitchen before Erestor could object. Following his father, Erestor sat at the table while Earane heated some water over the fire, coming to sit down while he waited for it to boil.

“About two months ago I was commissioned to make a fine necklace, circlet, bracelet and ring, all matching, for a fetching young lady-”

“Let me guess, Silindrical?” Erestor interrupted.

“Now that you mention it, no. It was for Silindrical’s sister, Nessa, whom shall be marrying in less than six month’s time. However, Silindrical came with her sister and father to collect the jewellery a few days ago when it was complete. Silindrical… she’s a beauty. A fine woman for anyone to court.”

“And you think I shall have interest in her?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt.”

“But Ada, I am not yet of majority.”

“No, but I was thinking that if you and she started courting now, by the time of your majority, you may be ready to become engaged. Besides, you *are* allowed to engage in romantic activities before your fiftieth birthday, but only if both parties are willing.”

“Why do you wish me to marry so young? Do you not want me to have a life of my own before I start thinking along those lines?”

“Of course I want you to have a life. Just because you two get engaged does not mean you have to get married,” Earane spoke as if it was obvious.

“Though that is usually the assumption,” Erestor countered.

“Erestor,” Earane sobered, “you work in the palace. When you become of age you will be working in close approximation to those whom have power over everything, including your body. If you are engaged then you are already assumed to be taken and they cannot touch you, even if they demand it.”

“Come, father! You speak of days gone by. I have worked in the palace for twenty years and never have I seen a Lord order someone to lay with them! It does not happen anymore! I know you wish only to protect me, but I can assure you that there is no need to fret.” Earane looked unconvinced and Erestor sighed in frustration.

“However, I shall still meet with Silindrical, if you wish it,” Erestor conceded after a short silence.

“I do. And I think you will find Silindrical quite agreeable,” Earane smiled suggestively.

“We shall see,” Erestor replied monotonously.

~*~*~*~*~

The next day in the office was rather slow. While there were other Scribes and apprentices hard at work, there was only Erestor and Tebring sharing their particular responsibilities. Progress was halted to almost a crawl, yet the amount of work to be completed only climbed higher, but Erestor was more than happy to work longer hours to keep up with demand. Yet as Sunday drew near, he started to worry he may disgrace his father and need to reschedule their meeting. Determined to hold true to his promise of greeting Silindrical, Erestor found himself working late Thursday night (or was it Friday morning, now?), long after Master Tebring had retired to bed, as had nearly all of the household. Sitting at his desk, Erestor’s third pot of ink for the evening ran out. Standing, he picked up his candle and moved to Tebring’s office, bending over the desk to retrieve another inkpot from a draw on the opposite side.

~*~*~*~*~

Although the hour was late Glorfindel could not sleep. The past few days had been far too exciting for slumber. He had been walking around with a huge smirk on his face for days now. Not only had he been awarded the highest honour to anyone entering the armed services, but his father had also bought him two of the most gorgeous slaves anyone had ever seen. And no matter how much anyone begged, he would allow no hand other than his own touch them.

However, their meekness and fine feminine forms did little to slake his lust. The time spent training and being out in the wild over the past two decades had built up his muscles and toned his physique. Not to mention his ego with all the praise he received for his good work and adept abilities. Continuously being around males and wrestling with them often left him hard and needy. One could not simply revert back to the opposite sex after so long without them. It felt almost an affront to his skills to have sex with his father’s submissive presents. He wanted someone who would put up a fight. Someone he could dominate, not because they were there for his pleasure, but because they weren’t. Upon spying a faint light coming from the end of the hallway, Glorfindel believed he had just found his prey.

Entering the room, Glorfindel found himself inside the library, a place not often frequented by himself, and saw the light coming from the back, near to where all the apprentice scribes worked, yet coming from an office just beyond the line of desks they worked on. Stalking towards his quarry, Glorfindel sneaked past rows of great volumes and a line of desks to stand at the doorway of Master Tebring’s office, as indicated by the plaque next to the door. Not the best-looking Scribe, Glorfindel conceded, recalling a vague memory of a few days ago when they met at the celebrations, but he would do. Yet the sight that greeted the warrior made all thoughts of beauty flee his mind.

The heavy black robe Tebring wore was stretched over the most delectable, pert posterior Glorfindel had ever seen as the Elf leaned over the desk, almost as if in invitation. The Elf was fumbling with something on the other side of the desk, a sign that he thought he was alone.

Without warning, Glorfindel felt his groin stir as images flashed in his mind of mounting this creature against his will right over his own desk. Slinking forward he reached out with his hands as if to grasp the firm backside wantonly stuck out in his direction, but ghosted them over the rump, never touching yet his hands shook slightly as if it took all his will-power to hold back.

Erestor finally grasped a spare inkpot in his hand after a lot of shuffling and made to stand up. However just as he closed the drawer, a large body pinned him to the desk, causing the apprentice scribe to gasp in shock and wriggle, trying to escape this unwanted intrusion of his personal space. He attempted to buck off his attacker, whom had yet to do anything other than hold him down, but a large hardness rubbing against his backside through many layers of clothing soon drew his efforts to a close. Panic came thick and fast as Erestor fully realised the situation he was in.

It was late, very late. The room was dark except for one candle flame, which had threatened to extinguish itself during the commotion. He was alone, with no others nearby, except for the one whom had him pinned to his supervisor’s desk, and the stranger was obviously a lot stronger than he.

Fear set in soon enough… his breathing sped up and he was sure he could feel sweat roll down his forehead already. His throat closed over and tears of fear of frustration began welling in his eyes. He tried to speak, but no words formed, just an unintelligent squeak.

Not sure what to do next, Erestor turned his head around to see his attacker, but a hand forced his head onto the desk before he could see anything. Struggling to comprehend his current predicament and the best way to get out of it, Erestor fell back on his instincts and tried to talk and negotiate with his attacker, though he knew it was a long shot, but still nothing came out.

However, at the sensation of a hand that was not his own beginning to raise his robe, Erestor felt he had very few other options. Gathering his strength and learned diplomatics skills, he tried to speak again.

“M-My Lerd, I…I heve yet to reasch my machor-ity,” Erestor wept with his head still pressed firmly into the wood beneath him.

“Of course you have, Tebring. And I am the son of a peasant,” Glorfindel spoke sarcastically and moved from the body long enough to yank the robe up to Erestor’s waist.

Crying out in fear, Erestor tried to again dislodge his assailant by bucking harshly against the other’s body.

“Oh yeah, do that…” Glorfindel groaned as he straightened up and placed both hands on either side of Erestor’s hips, grinding his erection into the legging-clad backside. Tears fell unheeded from Erestor’s eyes, the situation seeming hopeless. Wailing in protest, Erestor’s hand automatically seized a quill lying innocently on his Master’s desk when Glorfindel grew tired of mere humping and jerked down his leggings. The warrior also released his own bulging need and began spreading Erestor’s cheeks to reveal a very tight-clenched puckered entrance, a soft sigh of appreciation left his lips as he gazed at what he was about to conquer.

Erestor, however, had never felt so humiliated in all his life and began weeping and hiccupping uncontrollably, his body jerking every now and then, only further exciting the one behind him.

“No, please… don’t…” he began muttering, over and over again like a mantra as he felt something huge and blunt nudge against his tiny virgin hole. With the other Elf’s hands steadying his hips, Erestor sought to stand up, but at the first sign of movement, an arm pushed him down again, rendering him immobile, except for his arms. His attacker began to push further into him and Erestor had never felt such pain, as if he were being split in half from the inside out by the slow, meticulous torture his attacker enforced upon him, though barely the head of the other Elf’s member had entered him yet.

Screaming in pain, Erestor lashed out on instinct and drove the quill he still held into the hand that gripped on his hip. Glorfindel pulled back from the body in pain and supported his hurt arm close, looking at the wound as if in disbelief of what a mere servant had just done to him.

Erestor, meanwhile, had slid off the end of the desk and sat in a heap on the floor, his head tucked behind arms as he continued to give voice to his grief, rocking to and fro on the spot in an effort to console himself.

Glorfindel looked upon the figure on the ground and growled. “Why you…!” and marched forward a few steps and roughly jerked the other up by his soft silky hair. Erestor tried to pull the hands out of his hair, also shielding his face from any blows that were forthcoming. Having pulled his prey to full height, Glorfindel raised his hand to hit the Elf whom had hurt him. But at the last second, recognition flared in his eyes and he stayed his arm.

“E… Erestor?” his assailant asked almost fearfully, the shame of attacking a minor in such a way flooding his conscience.

It seemed to take a lifetime for Erestor to lower his arms and sneak a look at his would-be rapist; his head remaining bowed in submission.

Glorfindel’s hand flexed in Erestor’s hair for a moment, a wince appearing on Erestor’s face, a few quiet sobs and tears still escaping his distraught form. The warrior slowly removed his hand from the raven hair, patting it down where it was the most messed up and seemingly caressed the dark locks down to a quivering shoulder.

“Erestor, I… had I known it was you-” Glorfindel spoke regretfully and cupped Erestor’s cheek affectionately, but the apprentice scribe only cried harder at the words and flinched at the action. Unfortunately for Erestor, this only seemed to aggravate the warrior’s anger again, and he roughly grabbed the heaving shoulders in his large hands and shook the other’s body as if it were a rag doll. “What is it with you? Is my touch not good enough for you!? Anyone else would be *honoured* if a Lord was interested in them! But not you! Never you! You think you are better than me? Well you are not! As much as you may dress as one of us, you are still nothing more than a peasant! You’re filth!” He had continued shaking Erestor until the last comment whereupon he shoved the younger Elf back against Tebring’s desk. Crying out in shock at the forcefulness of the push, Erestor once again fell to the floor and huddled there, visibly shaking in the shadow of his old classmate.

“P-please… no… no more…” he sobbed, holding his arms about his face in supplication.

Looking down, Glorfindel found his penis had not softened in the wake of all that had transpired these past few minutes. Rather the opposite. He could never remember a time when he had been this aroused. Looking at the helpless figure hunched on the floor, the Lord felt his hardness jump and harden further still and only just managed to curb the low moan that started in his throat from spilling forth.

In spite of his titillation, Glorfindel found himself feeling rather awkward to be presented thus as it was clear his lust was not to be sated here. Re-arranging himself back into his leggings, Glorfindel smiled rather impishly when Erestor heard the rustle of cloth and peeped out to see his former classmate’s erection straining against the laces holding the cloth together.

Taking pity on the frightened Elf, Glorfindel knelt to offer some comfort. “Erestor, it is alright. I shall not harm you… you are not of age…” he spoke soothingly as he stroked the black head, coaxing it from its hiding place with two strong fingers placed under the chin. Reverently, he traced a path from the jaw line up to the temple, a look of awe upon his features as though he had never seen true beauty until this night.

“And,” Erestor sniffled, “And if I were? Would you take me against my will then?” he shot back accusingly, too drained emotionally and physically to be civil.

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed threateningly and a hand grasped Erestor’s chin forcefully, keeping their eyes aligned. “Oh, just wait until you are… I shall be the least of your worries then. I doubt any Elf of the court shall not want you. How the mighty shall fall that day! And you will be nothing more than the *whore* you were born to be!” he spat and marched away.

Erestor whimpered at Glorfindel’s words, and lowered his head back into the folds of his robes, seeking the hollow comfort it brought.

~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, as he pounded into his slave’s arse, Glorfindel imagined midnight black hair, dark eyes and pale white skin.


TBC



Translation:

Namarie- Farewell




AN: Wow! Can’t believe we’re up to here already! YAY! (I love this chapter!) Hope you did too and haven’t shocked too many away (though I would imagine most knew it was coming, right?)

Anyway, thanks for sticking with it, and I’d love to hear what you think. Thanks,

Luv Mawgy

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Short reminder of what occurred in last chapter.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: Erestor is 48, looks like a 24 year old and shouldn’t age physically any more than that.

~blah blah blah~ denotes Erestor’s thoughts.



Chapter 6


Erestor nervously wrung his hands again. Earane had never seen his son so jumpy and began to worry Erestor might not come across as the Elf he usually was and mess up the vital first impression. Slipping a little Dwarven rum into Erestor’s tea to calm his nerves, Earane handed his son the mug, whereupon the younger Elf gulped it down without a second thought.

“You seem unsettled,” Earane remarked as casually as possible.

“Oh, well, I have been thinking a lot about what you said,” Erestor mumbled, avoiding eye contact with his father. “And I have decided that it would be good to have a backup such as an engagement, for any unforseen circumstances that may pop up.”

Erestor had told no one of what had occurred in Master Tebring’s office on Thursday night, although his supervisor could see that something had disturbed Erestor sometime during the night, but no matter how many times he asked, Erestor maintained all was well. As ploughed under with work as they were, Tebring could not bring himself to ask Erestor to work on Sunday, though it was needed. Erestor’s features grew more haggard and his face paler each day, though he remained just as beautiful to all whom were not familiar with him. Thus Tebring decided a change of scenery might do his apprentice some good.

The incident with Glorfindel, and the blonde’s promise of more suffering to come had shaken Erestor to the core. When he had eventually dragged himself to bed many hours later that night, he had decided rather eagerly to court and woo this young maiden so they may be engaged at least until he made Advisor. Once he reached that status, his value to Gondolin would be too great to risk harm to, and as such none save the King or one of the other eleven House Lords would have that kind of power of him.

He knew his plan was selfish and might even break Silindrical’s heart, but after that night, Erestor felt very little compassion for anyone else.

“Erestor, I know you are not one who would treat Elven binding in the trivial manner your words have just suggested. Even though I did first propose this arrangement, I did not mean for you to regard it lightly. I just meant, if it is beneficial to both you and Silindrical and you are willing to announce an engagement, then do so. But do not leave her unaware of what it is you desire to do and request binding in a manner that contradicts her own thoughts on the subject,” Earane gently lectured his son.

“I know Ada… I am just… nervous. I have never met a female under the prospect of a romantic relationship before… nor a male, come to think of it,” Erestor tried to explain, with a light smile as he finished.

“Well, do not let it affect you when meeting her. If you keep that thought in the forefront of your mind you may end up scaring her off.”

“I know that Ada, I just cannot help dwelling-” Erestor was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. His eyes widened in nervousness, hope and fear. Looking to his father, Earane sent him an encouraging look and a pat on the arm as he moved to open the door.

“Linwelin, Silindrical, so nice to see you. Please, come in,” Earane swept an arm around his body, inviting them in as he moved out of the way. Erestor’s breath caught as he first glimpsed his possible future lover. Soft curls of red locks framed a most beautiful and kindly face. Eyes the colour of the ocean on a summer’s day. Full pink lips blending perfectly to her lightly sun-kissed face.

“Ah, yes, Silindrical, Linwelin, this is my son, Erestor,” Earane introduced them. “Erestor, this is Linwelin, local harvester of grain. And this is his lovely daughter, Silindrical."

Erestor stepped forward and offered his forearm to Linwelin. “It is an honour,” he spoke softly but clearly.

“Nay, the honour is all mine, son of Earane,” Linwelin said as he grasped Erestor’s arm in his hand in friendly greeting.

“My lady, ‘tis a pleasure,” Erestor expressed sincerely, taking her delicate hand in his and gave a soft kiss to the back of her fingers.

Silindrical gave a shy smile. “Oh, how charming,” she cooed. Earane’s eyes met Linwelin’s and they grinned. “I brought apple pie,” she said, holding out the offering for Erestor to take, inclining his head in thanks as he did so.

“It smells delicious,” he praised. “We shall enjoy this greatly after the main meal, I am sure.” Silindrical gave a small, embarrassed smile.

“May I offer anyone a cup of tea?” Earane spoke up after a few moments of silence.

“Yes, thankyou.”

Earane busied himself with the pot and Erestor indicated towards the table once he had put the dessert down. “Please, sit,” he said, holding out a chair for Silindrical as he had seen many servants do for ladies of the court.

“Erestor, how is life in the palace? Are they working you hard?” Linwelin asked, opening the conversation.

“Life is busy but very rewarding,” Erestor replied politely.

“The Lords… are they treating you well?”

“As well as one in my position deserves.”

“But, I thought you held equal status with them?” Silindrical interrupted.

“As of this moment, I am still an apprentice scribe. Once I am an Advisor, then I will have equal standing with all except the House Lords. Only the Chief Advisers or Captains of the Guard are equal to them. Though even then, while officially they shall hold the status of Lords, none will ever match their authority except for other House masters,” Erestor explained; wondering what Linwelin had told Silindrical about him and this match. And indeed what exaggerations his father may have told.

“Oh,” Silindrical said, her eyes shifting to her father for a moment before coming back to rest on Erestor. “How long until you are an Advisor?”

“If all goes well, a minimum of twenty-two years,” Erestor said.

~Twenty-two years?~ Erestor thought, ~no one stays engaged for twenty-two years without marriage… It would be impossible to expect anyone to accept this relationship if bonding did not occur during all that time. Especially after only two years of courting. Silindrical certainly seems well bred and well mannered, she is definitely comely, no one could deny that. I would be honoured to live out eternity by her side… but does she feel the same about me?~

“And a Chief Adviser?” Silindrical inquired further.

“That is hard to predict. Some Advisers have worked many centuries and have never been promoted, while others just a few years… it mostly comes down to who is in favour and who is not.”

“The King favours you, does he not?” Linwelin asked bluntly.

Erestor blushed. “I- I can see why people would think that he does, however it would be foolish to put my hopes upon him advancing me. Especially still so soon into my career. Yet even so, it is usually one’s own House Lord that decides upon a person’s role within the palace. The King only intervenes when he is particularly impressed with an individual.”

“Oh…” Silindrical nodded, her gaze falling back to her father.

An awkward silence fell over the table and eyes shifted uncomfortably.

“Here you are,” Earane spoke up, sliding mugs of tea across the table, followed quickly by a large plate of sandwich quarters with various fillings in them.

“Thankyou,” Father and daughter gave their appreciation voice and started eating the meal. Erestor watched closely as Silindrical elegantly reached out for a piece and delicately nibbled upon the bread and chicken filling.

~Yes, she would make a good wife~, Erestor decided to himself and took a slice with egg and lettuce in it.

Lunch was a quiet affair with occasional questions and answers, various comments on the weather, or high praise being given to Silindrical’s apple pie.

Once the meal was over, Earane and Linwelin made themselves scarce. Earane eager to show Linwelin his workshop once the farmer mentioned an interest in the general subject, Erestor’s father insisting on showing him personally how to make a bangle.

Erestor and Silindrical sat for many minutes in silence, shyly looking at one another over the table, blushing lightly when the other caught their gaze before quickly gazing elsewhere.

“What does an apprentice Scribe do?” Silindrical bravely opened the conversation.

“I help look after, maintain and bind books in the library. I record communications during minor Council Meetings. By minor I mean councillors that look after everyday tasks such as food, land distribution, etc, rather than the Council Meetings held with the Lords whom discuss major events, security, wealth… I also help find references, articles and books for Advisors and the general public. And I often write the first draft of a diplomatic letter Master Tebring or any other Scribe needs to send. There are a few other skills and tasks involved, but they are the main ones.”

“And what is the difference between what you do now and what you shall do once you become a Scribe?” Silindrical asked, seemingly interested in Erestor’s profession.

“I shall have no one to answer to except the Head Scribe, whom even Master Tebring must adhere to. Yet, I shall be moved to the Golden Flower Library rather than the Palace library where I am situated now, and the Head Scribe will be someone else to whom Master Tebring works under. And I shall write the final copy of letters rather than the draft. Though I would prefer to work on it from start to finish.”

“Your accommodation… is it as grand and as luxurious as the rest of the palace?”

“Not at the moment, but someday it shall be so,” Erestor said, giving a truthful but consoling answer. He saw that his plan worked moments later as Silindrical beamed at his answer.

“What are twenty-two years to immortals but mere blinks of the eye?” Silindrical mysteriously asked. Erestor had no reply other than a nervous titter, a gentle smile and the light touch of his nervous hand upon hers. Silindrical gave a coy curve of the lips.

After a few minutes, Erestor broke the comfortable silence. “I come home every Sunday. I would like it very much if I could call upon you in the afternoon next week?”

“I would like that also,” Silindrical consented.

~*~*~*~*~

“Wow… Earane, truly your craft is as interesting as you are talented with it! Silindrical, look here, I cannot even see where the gold was melded together! Truly a work of art!” Linwelin said half an hour later as he and Earane walked into the kitchen, handing Silindrical the bangle. Erestor and Silindrical’s entwined hands released one another’s and flew back to their laps at the sound of footsteps approaching. Yet Linwelin noticed nonetheless and smiled to himself.

“Yes father, it is beautiful,” Silindrical politely praised.

“Aaah, you are too kind,” Earane said, trying to keep the blush off his face. “If you like it so much, the bangle is yours Silindrical.”

“Oh no! I couldn’t!” she offered it back.

“‘Tis but a trifle. Please, I insist,” Earane argued.

Silindrical looked as though she was about to resist again, but a quick shake of the head from Erestor showed it was pointless to try. “Thankyou sir, I am honoured,” she gave in, slipping the bangle on and standing from the chair to give the craftsman a kiss to the cheek.

“Think nothing of it,” he smiled, his blush obvious.

“Well, I think it is about time we started back home. Earane, Erestor, thankyou for lunch,” Linwelin said and headed towards the door.

“Thankyou for the meal,” Silindrical bowed and walked over to her father.

“You are welcome. And thankyou for the lovely apple pie,” Earane said.

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

“Namarie.”

“Farewell,” they said to one another. Erestor and Silindrical shared one last brief, shy smile before father and daughter departed. The second the door clicked closed, Earane launched rapid-fire questions at an overwhelmed Erestor.

“How do you find her? What did you two talk about? Are you going to see her again? Any prospects for the future? Perhaps you can get her a job as a library maid, then you can be together all the time! What if you-”

“Father! Calm down! It was only our first meeting! I find her pleasant and fetching. We talked about what I do as Apprentice Scribe and how she helps her mother design dresses, but has little interest in pursuing that career… though in all honesty, I think she would rather a life of luxury with no work at all… I am seeing her again next Sunday… I thought that perhaps a picnic would be nice. The future is too far off to know for sure, though it would not be undesirable. Also, there are no ‘library maids,’ just maids who do all tasks, some of them including library upkeep. But there are no full time library servants except us scribes,” Erestor humbly replied to all his father’s questions.

“Did you ask to court her today?” Earane asked excitedly.

“I did not wish to overwhelm her, so no, I did not. However I may ask her father for his permission next Sunday, before asking her.”

“But he agreed! You heard him on Tuesday! He was in favour of this match! You do not need his permission further!” Earane pointed out in shocked disbelief.

“Nevertheless, this is my first relationship, if that is what it is to become. I would prefer to proceed in the traditional manner.”

Earane grudgingly nodded his head in understanding, though was slightly disappointed Erestor was taking their affinity slowly, yet he could see reason behind it.

“That apple pie was horrid though, was it not?” Erestor blurted out, wanting to lighten the heavy mood.

“My word yes! I am sure even I could make better!” Earane chuckled whole-heartedly. “Be sure to get a cook should you two wed!”

Erestor smiled in acquiescence.



TBC



Namarie- Farewell.

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Short reminder of what occurred in last chapter.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: Erestor is 48, looks like a 24 year old and shouldn’t age physically any more than that.



Chapter 7

“Silindrical! What are you doing here?” Erestor asked, nearly dropping the books he was putting back on the shelf in surprise.

“I wished to see you,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the corner of Erestor’s mouth. “So this is where you work! I confess I have never been in this library before. You will have to show me around. Though I feel I know this place inside out from the countless times you have described life in here!” She giggled charmingly.

“I would like to very much, but I am working right now. Perhaps I can show you on Sunday?”

Silindrical pouted prettily. “But I thought I was going to teach you to ride a horse this Sunday. Please Erestor, it will not take long,” she asked, joining her outstretched hands in request, squeezing her bosoms together with her upper-arms, giving Erestor a perfect view of her cleavage.

Erestor couldn’t help but lower his gaze and stare, a light blush staining his cheeks at the thought of one day seeing those pert breasts for himself and what he would do with them first. He shook himself when he realised he was staring. As often as Silindrical had used this method to get her way over the past six months, Erestor had never tired of the sight. Rolling his eyes at the patheticness of his own actions, he took hold of Silindrical’s hand and led her back to the entrance of the library.

“As you walk in, you see the fiction books. They are a new style of writing. Something that never happened, but that the author has made up. As of yet, they are not very popular, but I quite enjoy a trip into the fantasy realm every now and then.” Erestor led Silindrical over to the left side of the library front wall. “Here are the educational books for children as they grow and learn all sorts of subjects. Again, only a recently introduced concept and one which seems to be very beneficial to a child’s learning.” Erestor guided Silindrical around the corner to the right. “Here are the religious and philosophical books. Most are very old, but there seems to be a re-emergence of interest in the subjects lately, and we are starting to build up a small mountain of new books for this section.” Leading her to the end of the aisle, Erestor stopped just around the corner before a long line of desks.

“These are where the apprentice Scribes work,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb those hard at work. “In those rooms are the Scribes’ offices, but only those whom teach apprentices,” he pointed along the back library wall and the line of doorways every few metres. “All others usually have an office near their House library, rather than the city library. And up there,” he acknowledged the books on a level above the offices, “are the books on black magic. No one is allowed access to them unless they have written permission from nine of the twelve House Lords, one of which must be King Turgon.”

Walking again, Erestor stopped halfway down the row of books and desks. “These are the books on law,” he stated simply then tugged her along to the end and turned right. “These are the books on culture and history. The majority of books are on Men, Elves and Dwarves, yet our collection is becoming more diverse as we learn more about the other inhabitants we share this world with. And in the centre of all the books are those on relationships and sexual activities. And that’s the library. If you turn right again at the end of the aisle, halfway along will be the exit. Sorry to rush you like this, but I must continue with my work,” Erestor reasoned. “I shall see you on Sunday,” he said and leaned in for a quick kiss goodbye.

However, Silindrical had other ideas in mind and promptly wrapped her arms around Erestor’s neck, pulling them closer and prolonging the lip-lock. Erestor felt her mouth move against his, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. With gentle force upon her shoulders, Erestor was able to push her away.

“I have to go,” he entreated with a sincerely apologetic look and a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Fine, but you owe me a kiss,” Silindrical laughed lively and gave him a brazen wink then turned away. However, before she could take one more step, she noticed Glorfindel at the far end of the row. He appeared to have been standing there for some time now, casually leaning against the wall, watching the lovers with interest. Silindrical, never one to back away from an opportunity, faltered for only a moment in surprise before continuing on her way to the exit, smiling prettily at the Lord as she went.

“My Lord,” she respectfully curtsied, lowering herself far enough to once again show a little of her breasts, then stood and made to walk past. Yet before either of the lovers could protest, Glorfindel swept Silindrical into his arms and dipped her backwards, their faces almost touching. Taking advantage of her shock, Glorfindel pressed his lips to hers and eagerly thrusting his tongue inside.

Erestor yelped and instinctively took a step forward, intending to break up his late-night attacker and his intended, though how, he was unsure. To touch a Lord would mean punishment, as he had learnt years before. But he could hardly allow anyone to violate his partner. However, just as he had gathered the resolve to forcibly remove the warrior from Silindrical if need be, sky blue eyes met his and all thoughts left him. Those eyes danced with mirth at Erestor’s helplessness, yet smouldered with delight at another body being pressed up against his so intimately. Erestor was rooted to the spot, a look of betrayal and a striving to understand written on his face. Glorfindel just continued holding the apprentice Scribe’s gaze as his tongue plundered the dark recesses of Silindrical’s mouth. Rarely had Erestor felt so helpless and he despised himself for this. He vaguely noticed his hands shaking and felt fear rising within himself. Those eyes… to anyone else, they would have seemed harmless, full of warmth and joy. Yet for Erestor, they were the eyes that turned feral when darkened with lust, animalistic and hungry for conquest… They were eyes that had haunted his nightmares for several months now, yet even so, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away, despite every fibre in his being screaming at him to do so.

Fortunately for Erestor, just as suddenly as it had started, Glorfindel abruptly ended the kiss and righted Silindrical once more. “Payment, on behalf of Erestor,” he casually explained giving the Elleth a cheeky grin and wink as he gave her shoulder a little push, clearly ending their intrigue for the time being. Silindrical returned her shy, cute smile, curtsied low again and left, sending a puzzled look towards Erestor as she did so. Erestor watched her leave, a grim look upon his face.

Refusing to look at Glorfindel, Erestor turned to go back to work.

“I did not realise your tastes ran in the female direction. Though you do perform the part of damsel in distress quite well yourself,” Glorfindel mocked, bringing Erestor to a stand still, for it would be thought contemptuous to leave without acknowledging a Lords’ words.

Turning around, Erestor smiled politely. “Excuse me, my Lord, I have work to continue,” he bowed and tried to leave down an aisle of books, but Glorfindel squeezed his way past and blocked Erestor’s exit.

“How old is she? Is she of age?” Glorfindel asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Nay, she is forty-six,” Erestor spoke through clenched teeth, his heart pounding within his ribcage.

“Pity…” Glorfindel pouted for a moment then approvingly looked Erestor up and down. “And you are now… forty-nine?”

“Three months this Sunday and I will be,” Erestor corrected.

“Mmmm, I shall remember that date for next year,” Glorfindel said in a sultry tone and licked his lips in anticipation. Erestor cowered from Glorfindel’s intense stare and dropped his gaze to the floor. But before the blonde could press his advantage, a booming voice echoed from the aisle Erestor had just stepped back in to.

“Erestor!” Looking along the row, Erestor saw Master Tebring storming towards him, his robes flapping in his wake. The young Elf’s thumping heart cried with relief at the sight of another person, knowing he would no longer have to endure Glorfindel’s company alone. Glorfindel, however, was far enough inside the aisle to have not to be seen by Tebring thus far. “Why are you not working? There is much to be done and we cannot fall behind! King Turgon may appear any day now to inspect the library! I have half a mind to discipline you! Now go back and finish stacking those books, then come see me!” he hissed, his face livid.

“Yes Master Tebring,” Erestor said immediately, eager to be rid of Glorfindel’s presence, even at the cost of being his Master’s focal point of anger.

“Tebring, this is a library, keep your voice down, please,” Glorfindel said calmly, coming out of his row of books with one in hand.

“G-Glorfindel!” Tebring stuttered for a moment while reining his surprise. “My Lord,” He bowed and said in a more composed manner. “Forgive me, I did not see you.”

Erestor did not anticipate what was about to happen and tried to sneak back to the books he was sorting, but a hand on his upper arm stilled his movements. Uncertain, Erestor turned to look at Glorfindel, bewilderment etched onto his features.

“I did not realise you were now penalising those doing their jobs. Quite adequately as well, I must admit,” he said, pulling Erestor back towards him and the conversation. Master Tebring’s eyes shifted to Erestor, but his gaze was downcast, not wanting to draw more attention to himself.

“His job?” Tebring asked in confusion.

“Yes,” Glorfindel answered simply. “I needed to find books on,” he looked down at the cover of the volume he held and barely suppressed a shudder, “Dwarven politics. Erestor was kind enough to help me. Now, if you do not mind, I must collect several more before concluding my visit here, so if you would leave us, I would appreciate it greatly.”

“Forgive me, my Lord, but what does a warrior need with books on Dwarven politics?” Tebring asked, not convinced.

“I am to be escorting a party of diplomats to the Dwarf Mines in less than two months for a series of negotiations. I do not have their experience or knowledge of the creatures and how to behave around them, but that does not mean I should not make the effort,” Glorfindel answered calculatingly, his eyes narrowing, daring the Scribe to challenge his word.

“Very well, I leave you in Erestor’s capable hands. Erestor, return to your work when you are done. I shall leave further instructions upon your desk,” he said, backing down and walking away.

Glorfindel watched Tebring walk away, a curious smile of satisfaction on his features. Why, Erestor could not guess. It had been brave of Tebring to question a Lord’s activities and theoretically, Glorfindel had no obligation to explain himself and could have reprimanded Tebring for even asking… yet for reasons of persuasion, Erestor guessed, he did not.

Erestor kept his eyes on the ground, his panic, which had abated somewhat with Tebring’s arrival, flared within his chest again.

“Tut tut tut… shirking your duties to spend time with your lady friend… I am ashamed of you,” Glorfindel said in a solemn voice, though if Erestor had looked up, would have seen a jealous and joking twinkle in the sparkling sky-blue eyes.

“Why did you help me, my Lord?” Erestor asked, not knowing what else to say and genuinely curious.

“Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” he scoffed.

Erestor frowned and raised his eyes to gaze at Glorfindel unbelievingly. The blonde held the gaze, almost challenging the other to argue.

“Very well,” Erestor said at length, “if you will excuse me, I have work to continue,” he bowed and moved away.

“Whatever is the rush?” Glorfindel leered, catching the retrieving Elf on the upper arm. “Stay here and we can…” he said in a sultry tone, moving to the scribe and pressing himself against Erestor’s back, “talk.” Fear palpitated throughout Erestor’s body and when Glorfindel sloppily licked the tip of his ear, the scribe began trembling. “Mmm,” Glorfindel murmured, encircling Erestor within his arms, “you shiver just like a virgin maid about to be deflowered,” he praised. “Go on, fight me. I can feel you are just aching to.”

“M-my Lord, p-please…” Erestor choked out, unable to say anything more.

“Please what?” Glorfindel asked, nuzzling the slender neck before him.

Erestor whimpered in helplessness and began shaking all the more at Glorfindel’s seemingly familiar touch.

“Don’t,” he softly sobbed, his throat closing over.

“Oh Erestor, do you not enjoy my attention?” Glorfindel asked sulkily, lightly nipping Erestor’s jaw.

“I… I am not of age…” he said, avoiding humiliating the Lord.

“To be forced yes… but you could come willingly,” the blonde cooed.

“I have to go back to work,” Erestor insisted.

“Yet you left it for similar activities,” Glorfindel argued, suckling the elegant collarbone of the Apprentice Scribe.

“I shall get in trouble if I linger any longer,” Erestor whimpered, desperately trying to verbally escape Glorfindel.

“You have not said ‘no’,” Glorfindel tempted.

“I have not said ‘yes’ either,” Erestor pointed out.

“So I have noticed. For if you had, we would be in my chambers, naked and writhing upon my bed by now,” Glorfindel whispered huskily into Erestor’s ear, his hands beginning to roam Erestor’s chest, searching for the thus-far elusive nipples.

“I wish not to engage in these activities with you,” Erestor whispered, fresh tears trailing down his cheeks.

Glorfindel inhaled sharply and released Erestor immediately.

Erestor almost fell out of the Lord’s grasp and took a few stumbling steps before righting himself. Not having the courage to turn around, Erestor stayed where he was, his head bowed. Having not been excused yet, Erestor knew not if he should leave, or wait for Glorfindel to say something else.

Minutes of silence passed and Erestor’s harsh breathing had slowed to a normal pace. Thinking Glorfindel had nothing else to say, he began walking away, but stopped at the sound of the other’s voice.

“I wonder what it is she has that I do not,” Glorfindel hissed.

Slowly Erestor turned around, scared of what would befall him now, just when he thought he would be left alone. Yet before he had a chance to look at the other Elf, he was slammed against a bookshelf, his head banging painfully into a shelf and his sight wavering. He was held there with a large body pressed tightly to his, harsh, angry breathing puffing against his cheek, his head defiantly turned to the side.

“Perhaps it is her hair? That fiery red mane that falls seductively to her hips… so soft and tempting. There is a quality to it that makes one wish to plunge their hands into it, is there not?”

Erestor’s jaw twitched, but he remained silent.

“Those dark blue eyes hold so much knowledge and cunning… Tell me, have you yet lost yourself within them?”

Glorfindel’s eyes raked over Erestor’s face, keeping careful watch for the slightest of reactions.

“Mayhap it is her breasts? She truly has a lovely pair, does she not? I would very much like to feel them beneath my hands and lips… Have you touched them yet?”

Erestor drew a long, harsh breath but said nothing, his face still turned defiantly away.

“No, I did not think you had. Though her kisses are divine, are they not?”

“…”

“ARE THEY NOT?!” Glorfindel screamed, forcing Erestor’s head forward with a firm hand around his jaw.

Erestor remained silent, his eyes full of dread and loathing. However, before Glorfindel could yell at him again, Erestor’s right hand probed the bookcase and lashed out, a heavy tome within it, the book aimed at the Lord’s head.

To Erestor, it all seemed to be in slow motion. His hand rose and arced, his target clear. Glorfindel’s eyes remained locked on his, unaware of the forthcoming blow.

Or so Erestor thought, for at the last moment, with the greatest of ease, Glorfindel caught Erestor’s wrist, his gaze having never left the smaller elf’s countenance. Erestor’s eyes switched from his captured limb to Glorfindel and back again several times, a look of total astonishment and complete terror swimming within his dark eyes.

“So, there is some fight within you… excellent!” Glorfindel leered excitedly and pressed himself closer to Erestor, letting the other feel his raging erection. “I look forward to our next intrigue.” And with that, he released Erestor from his grip. The blonde stepped away so suddenly the Scribe had no time to brace himself and fell to the floor, landing on his hands and knees. “Mmm, remember that position,” Glorfindel said, swiftly moving behind the shaking scholar, kneeling down and over him, “for it is my favourite and I shall wish to explore it extensively with you,” he whispered into the shell of Erestor’s ear. He rubbed his arousal once, twice, thrice against Erestor’s backside then left the library.

Erestor crawled to the nearest corner and quivered on the library floor for some time, fresh tears of fear, anger and frustration at his own weakness flooding his face. He remained there for some time, his eyes blood-shot by the time he had stopped crying, but slowly, he found the strength to stand and hobble back to the books he was originally sorting before Silindrical found him. Sniffles escaped him every now and then and his hands still shook as he placed the books on the shelves, dropping a few in the process, yet he was finally done, albeit several hours after he should have been.



TBC


Thanks again for reading. Things are really hotting up, ney?

Luv Mawgy

Chapter 8

A hand slammed a piece of paper upon his desk.

“I need to find this book,” a voice from above commanded, removing his hand.

Erestor gulped at the sound of the familiar voice, but picked up the parchment nonetheless and read the title. He groaned inwardly and a feeling of dread started spreading throughout his body.

“I am not very familiar with this genre of book,” Erestor explained. “Perhaps you would do better asking assistance from another scribe?”

“You are a scribe, are you not?”

Erestor winced at the cool, calculating tone. “Apprentice, yes.”

“Then do your job and help me find this book!”

“As you wish, Lord Glorfindel.” Erestor stood and moved to the library catalogue to make sure no one had borrowed the text before walking to the centre of the library where books on sexual activities were kept. Wasting no time, Erestor began searching for the title Glorfindel wished to read. It was not in its alphabetically correct place, so he looked over all the other shelves in pursuit of the elusive book. Glorfindel, however, seemed to take joy in pulling out random books, flipping through them, shoving a rather explicit picture into Erestor’s face, then commenting upon it.

“Have you and your lady friend tried this position yet? Would you like me to show you how it is done? Care for a demonstration? Mind if I watch? I should very much like to try this position some day.”

Erestor ignored Glorfindel’s remarks, but politely declined all his offers.

Glorfindel, despite the constant refusals, persevered nonetheless.

“Tying people up!? But then one cannot enjoy the challenge and passion of the struggle! Do you not agree, Erestor? Ooooh… MULTIPLE PARTNERS! How about you and I go out and find other willing, sexually open souls and have some fun? Or do your pleasures lie in voyeurism? I wouldn’t mind you watching me. In fact, come to my chambers tonight and I shall be more than happy to put on a display for you.”

Erestor continued his search, desperately trying to find Glorfindel’s book and subsequently leaving the vulgar Elf’s company. Finally he sighed in relief and took down the book on same-sex marriages and bonding ceremonies, handing it to the blonde.

“Here is the book you were looking for. Is there anything else I can assist you with?” Erestor asked out of courtesy, mentally begging there wasn’t.

“Yes, if you could assist me with the practical side to this ceremony, I would be much obliged,” Glorfindel asked, his winning smile plastered upon his face, gifting Erestor with a wink at the end.

“My duties are far too many to help in such a venture. Is there anything else?”

“I never said you had to do it right now. How about this Sunday? I know you have that day off.”

“I am busy this and every Sunday,” Erestor said simply.

“With Silindrical?” Glorfindel scoffed.

“Yes, we are- Wait, how do you know her name?”

Glorfindel smirked and moved forward, crowding Erestor and forcing him against a bookcase. The Lord raised an arm above the Scribe’s head and leant in close.

“I know more than just her name,” he whispered conspiringly. “In fact, I know more about you and your life than you would want.”

Erestor gulped at their closeness, a fleeting look of worry passing over his features.

“And ho- how did you come by this information?”

“Oh, Erestor! Do you not know? *Everyone* has their price!” he teased before pressing his body further into Erestor’s then walking away, a cynical laugh escaping his lips as he did so.

Erestor stared in confusion long after Glorfindel had left, wondering what on earth the lord had been talking about. Eventually he surmised the blonde was merely up to his tricks again and shrugged it off, returning to his work once more.



TBC

Chapter 9

“Erestor! Come along now!” Earane called out.

“It looks silly,” Erestor whined.

“Better that I see it now so we can improve upon it before Saturday. Now come out! I need to see how the entire ensemble looks! There is no reason for you to be shy!”

“All right, all right, I am coming out. But no laughing!” He warned, then stepped out from the hallway into the kitchen. Upon his head sat a circlet denoting his maturity, made of gold with emeralds. A blood red robe with a blue sash clothed his body, whilst ankle-high boots with a small heel covered his feet, although the robe swam on his small body and trailed on the ground, hiding the shoes.

Earane’s anticipatory face fell. He circled Erestor slowly, taking note of what needed to be changed.

“Well, gold is not your colour,” he took the circlet off, “as for the blue sash… Well perhaps we can change that to black… The robe itself is fine, albeit a little long. But, other than that, it suits you quite well. Though, it needs to be hemmed a little, but nothing the tailors cannot handle. We shall have to change your hair… Wearing it completely out makes your face look longer and worn,” he said, placing the circlet to the side and pulled Erestor’s dark locks up around his head, dropping them again to see the effect. “See? Is it not a good thing we checked your outfit now rather than the night before like *somebody* wanted?” Earane teased. “Take that robe off then come and see me in the showroom and we shall see what other maturation celebration circlets I have. Perhaps silver with rubies would be best. And, for the day, maybe we should ask Cirilea to braid your hair. Alright, go change,” Earane ordered as Erestor teetered in the doorway, waiting for his father to stop talking.

Two hours later they had decided upon a simple styling of hair for Cirilea to play around with later, a white gold circlet with black diamonds and a black sash with silver tassels for a touch of colour, and the same robe, now pinned to the right length for the tailors to hem.

“There, you look like a prince!” Earane commented with a happy grin.

“Ada, I am going to stand out…” Erestor squirmed.

“That is the point! After all, you are the begetting-day boy!” Earane smiled proudly, then suddenly scooped his son up for a tight hug. “I am so proud of you, your achievements and everything you have done to brighten my life. I love you *so* much!”

“I love you too, Ada,” Erestor replied and hugged his father back.

“OH! I have a present for you!” Earane announced excitedly, pulling back.

“But my begetting day is not for another week!” Erestor argued lightly, the delighted grin upon his face clearly giving away his want.

“This is not a present for you, it is a present to and from you,” Earane explained, pulling a small velvet box from a pocket and, once facing Erestor, opened it slowly.

Erestor stared at the exquisite ring for some time, his mouth trying to form words, yet his voice failed him for some time.

“…Ada…I- no… you can’t… *I* can’t-”

“You can and you will accept it. I thought you may wish to propose to Silindrical with it,” Earane said, pushing the box into Erestor’s hand.

Erestor gazed at the ring, a look of deep thought marring his gentle features.

“I do not know if Silindrical is my intended,” Erestor whispered.

“Erestor,” Earane said seriously, placing a hand upon his son’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from the box. “I have heard disturbing whispers about Lord Glorfindel’s interest in you… Not two days ago did I hear about the incident in the kitchen… he spilling some milk on the floor, just in time for you to walk in and slip on it, then he carrying you to the healers before taking you back to your chambers and tucking you into bed, all whilst you were dazed and only half aware of what was happening! I wonder how much further he shall go once you have reached your majority.”

“I do not think he intended for all that to happen,” Erestor mumbled.

“Then why was he in the servants’ kitchen at all? Why that particular time? And why was he conveniently not busy the second your head hit the stone floor?” Earane asked accusingly.

Erestor looked like he was about to reply but bit his lip, not knowing what else to say that might convince his father his fears were misplaced. After all, it would be nice to be rid of the young Lord’s attention for once and for all.

“I think it is a little late for second thoughts now,” Earane said gently.

“I know… yet I cannot help but wonder if I am ever at the forefront of her thoughts as she is mine.”

“Erestor-”

“Lately she has been distracted. She has cancelled five of the last eight times we were to spend the day together. And when she has come, her thoughts are elsewhere and she remains no more than a few hours before running off inexplicably. She no longer makes an effort in her appearance, seemingly saving all her dresses and graces for another. Ada, I do not think-”

“Erestor, you are being silly and judging her too harshly. But never fear, many do when approaching such an important step in a relationship, yet most can be explained quite simply. Her clothes; she is merely so comfortable in your company now that she does not see the point in looking good for you as she knows you appreciate her beyond the physical. Disappearing and cancelling dates…she may have duties at home she needs to attend to, or she might be just as nervous as you are approaching maturation day, and the thoughts of what you might ask her is so overwhelming she can barely stay in your company for long, scared she might say something inappropriate which may sway her favour. It happens to a lot of couples, Erestor. Believe me, you are not the first pair to experience this,” Earane explained away, Erestor in turn giving him a look to express his state of disbelief.

Earane sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Just ask her. There is no harm in doing that at least, now is there?”

“I suppose not,” Erestor replied dejectedly, still not entirely sure.

~*~*~*~*~

“Erestor!” A familiar voice hissed; the apprentice scribe’s shoulders slumped immediately. Turning from the books he was sorting, Erestor faced the blonde.

“Yes, Lord Glorfindel?” he asked in a bored but polite manner. Over the past fifteen months, Glorfindel’s presence no longer affected him in the same way it once had. There were a few occasions when fear overtook him, but mostly he regarded the Lord as nothing more than an occupational nuisance.

“My rooms. Tonight.” Glorfindel ordered then began walking away.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but I do not reach my majority until tomorrow.”

“I am aware of this,” Glorfindel remarked, but continued walking away.

“Then you are also aware that you cannot force me into anything until the day after tomorrow,” Erestor said, subtly reminding the warrior that the day of maturation is reserved for celebration.

Glorfindel stopped then and turned around, throwing Erestor a rather bemused expression. Stalking towards the younger Elf, he leaned in close, forcing Erestor against a bookshelf, the Lord gently curling a wisp of dark hair around his finger.

“Do not fret, sweet Scribe, for I only wish you to see… something.”

“And what might that ‘something’ be?”

“Oooh, I cannot say, for then it would not be a surprise. Think of this as your present from me. And though you shall not thank me for it anytime soon, I know it is for the best,” Glorfindel spoke, his breath caressing Erestor’s cheek.

Erestor remained impassive, saying nothing about Glorfindel’s closeness, how their bodies touched from chest to groin nor that certain sparkle the Lords’ eyes contained when in intimate contact with himself.

Glorfindel watched the Scribe closely, not for the first time his eyes raking over pale skin, dark eyes and red lips, calculatingly cataloguing each and every small, delicate feature, and capturing each flicker of emotion that his countenance portrayed, memorising them to re-live later when he lay in bed.

“Come after dinner,” Glorfindel husked, his eyes rooted to Erestor’s mouth. With a final fleeting glance, Glorfindel hesitantly walked away.

Erestor frowned, wondering what sinister trick Glorfindel was to play on him now, yet his curiosity could not be swayed. Thus, after dinner, following his own interest and obeying orders, Erestor found himself outside Glorfindel’s chambers. Raising a shaky hand, Erestor knocked on the elaborately decorated wooden double doors.

A servant, most likely a butler from his attire, Erestor deduced, answered the door.

“Hello, uh, Lord Glorfindel summoned me to his rooms this night,” Erestor said, wondering why Glorfindel did not greet him himself, knowing he was due to arrive.

“Forgive my master’s rudeness for not welcoming you, but he is still arranging your…” the butler looked Erestor over in a superior manner, making the Scribe’s skin crawl, “… surprise. You may enter, but remain here. I shall be back shortly.” The butler moved away, exiting the main room through a door on the opposite wall.

Erestor stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. Looking around the room, Erestor noted the lack of expensive, gaudy decoration most other palace rooms contained, but rather the soft, earthy tones on the walls, elegantly simple furniture and a few furs strewn around the room over the black marble floor. All in all, Erestor couldn’t help but admire the Lord’s taste in décor.

Startled, Erestor spun around to face a somewhat bare corner of the room when he heard whispering. Stunned, Erestor watched as two somewhat battered, bruised and naked she-elves held each other comfortingly as they stared at Erestor, seemingly frozen under his gaze.

Erestor stood still and watched fear flicker across their countenances, and throughout their trembling bodies. He wanted to allay their concern, tell them he would do them no harm. Yet all words failed him as he saw the resonating sorrow within their eyes and the harm they had received from their master’s hand.

~*~*~*~*~

“Master, would you like some refreshments now?” The butler asked.

“Aaaah… yes. Bring them in,” Glorfindel agreed. The butler bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Once in the main room again, the butler beckoned Erestor to him as he picked up an already prepared tray.

“You are to stay by the door. Do not speak or let your presence be known in any way. If you do not obey these rules, then all shall be ruined, though the end result shall no doubt be the same,” the butler spoke haughtily, wondering why his master would go to all this trouble for a peasant.

Confused, Erestor nodded nonetheless. Opening the door to Glorfindel’s sleeping quarters, the butler entered and placed the tray down on the bedside table. Erestor moved to the door but halted in his tracks at what he saw. Lounging on his back on the bed, wearing naught but a pair of leggings, was Glorfindel. Kneeling over his hips was a naked female with curly red locks, her groin gently rocking against Glorfindel’s.

His eyes taking in only what was happening upon the bed, Erestor lost his footing for a moment and stumbled as the butler pushed past, closing the door behind him, giving Erestor little time to move away. Righting himself again, Erestor leaned against the wall for balance as tears of betrayal welled in his eyes.

“I am glad you asked for me this night, my Lord,” Silindrical cooed.

“Oh, and why is that?”

“For I am in desperate need of a spanking.”

“What have you done now?”

“I did not help Nana set the table.”

“Again!?” Glorfindel asked dumbfounded. “If I did not know any better, I would swear you *wanted* to be punished every time you visited! But I am tired tonight. Do you have plans for tomorrow’s eve? Perhaps then I could execute your punishment.”

“Forgive me, but Erestor wants me to accompany him to his maturation ball.”

“Aaaah, yes. Erestor… And how are things with him?” Glorfindel prodded.

“You know I possess no affection for him,” Silindrical insisted.

“Yet you refuse to break it off with him…” Glorfindel countered.

“It is complicated.”

“You are stalling. Why do you lie to him?”

“Why do you care?”

“I may be many things, but to give false hope is something I would never do.”

“I am not giving him false hope.”

“Oh please! Tomorrow he turns fifty! He is an open target to anyone whose status is higher than his unless he is engaged to be married. And right now, you, my sweet, is his only viable candidate.”

“Sounds like someone is scared of losing me,” Silindrical teased.

“So when he asks, you shall reject him?”

“Need you ask?”

“And if I were to propose right now, would you accept?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Silindrical laughed at this. “Who wouldn’t want to be married to a Lord?”

“Is that the only reason?” Glorfindel inquired seriously. Silindrical instantly sobered and looked at him in a loving way.

“Nay, for you are also brave, truthful, sincere and handsome beyond compare.”

Erestor had to stifle his sharp intake of breath as fond memories of a summer’s day emerged from his mind whereupon Silindrical had uttered similar words about him.

“Shame…” Glorfindel sighed.

“What is a shame?”

“My parents are arranging my marriage. And no matter how much I may wish to bond with you, I cannot.”

“Oh,” Silindrical muttered, forlorn.

“Promise me that you shall not dwell over what we have shared. That you will go on and find happiness with another,” Glorfindel urged, grasping Silindrical’s upper arms.

“Do not fret. I shall bond with Erestor when he asks. Though he shall never reach your status, both in rank and in my heart, I shall live well with him. Besides, just because we are to bond with others, does not mean that we cannot still have these little intrigues,” Silindrical bounced back, always having a second option to fall upon.

“Then perhaps you should tell him your true age? He is bound to find out sooner or later.”

“I know Erestor. He likes a woman to be younger and more vulnerable than himself. It gives him a sense of worth and power that he does not possess in other areas of his life. If he knew I was almost seventy, he would never ask me to be his mate,” Silindrical stated. “Yet, once again, we are speaking of Erestor. How about I get you out of these leggings,” she tugged on the waistband, “then we can have some fun with those slaves of yours, hmmm?”

“I think you have been using them a little roughly lately, my sweet. But, if that is what you want…”

“I do. I shall be right back,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to Glorfindel’s lips and climbed off the bed. Yet before she could take one step towards the door, a large gasp came from her as she caught sight of Erestor and froze, not knowing what to say or do that might explain all that had been said and done.

Noticing her shock, Glorfindel got up from the bed and walked towards Erestor, whose doleful eyes were trained on Silindrical, his heart clearly breaking beneath the surface. Standing behind the Scribe, Glorfindel wound his powerful arms protectively around the lithe body, his head alongside Erestor’s. Yet the younger elf felt none of this, only the pain and hollow feeling of betrayal now growing within his breast.

“She played you for a fool, Erestor,” he whispered loudly enough for Silindrical to hear. “She used us both, just to rise above her station… she should be punished.”

“If you punish me, then you must also punish Erestor!” Silindrical demanded. “He is just as guilty as I!”

“How so? He works hard for his achievements and earns his way to the top. And he does not hurt others to do so.”

“Surely you jest, my Lord!” she scoffed. “Erestor is doing precisely what Lords have feared for an age! A mere peasant shall soon be counted among you! And you claim he hurts none! It is now he whom gives false hope to other peasants by letting them believe that if he can rise to be more than he was born to be, then so can they!” she fired back.

“But he does not manipulate others to get what he wants!”

“What nonsense! See how he has manipulated your affections for him! At school he was despised by you!”

“Do not think my interest in him has changed one iota. With the breaking of this union he shall be nothing but my plaything once more,” Glorfindel said in a sultry voice, licking Erestor’s ear tip to punctuate his words.

Erestor trembled with fear and emotional distraught, too upset to join in the conversation, his thoughts jumbled, his eyes leaking teardrops as he continued watching Silindrical.

“Make me your plaything, my Lord! I am much more experienced, willing and deserving of your attention, surely?”

“Willing and experienced you may be, but deserving you are not! Besides, who says I want some pliant, enthusiastic body beneath me? Yet, a plaything I shall make you as punishment for your actions. You, Silindrical, daughter of Linwelin, shall henceforth be a sex slave to the court of Gondolin, as a result of your deceitful and unnecessarily harmful actions towards a Lord,” Glorfindel announced rather smugly as he watched her face fall.

“But… B-but that is not fair!” she argued pitifully.

“I am a Lord, I do not need to be fair,” Glorfindel smirked. “SECAR!” Erestor winced as the word was shouted into his ear, although Glorfindel did press an apologetic kiss to the appendage.

“Yes Master?” The butler asked, entering the room.

“Take this… thing, to the harem and make sure she is integrated into their ways properly,” he ordered.

“Of course, Master,” he answered, walking towards Silindrical.

Desperate, the red-haired she-elf evaded the butler and flung herself onto Erestor.

“I may not have been loyal or sincere, but was I not good to you? Ask me now to bond with you and I shall accept! It will be beneficial to us both!” she begged and pressed a kiss to Erestor’s tightly closed lips.

Glorfindel growled deep in his throat and was about to forcibly remove Silindrical from Erestor when the butler grabbed her by the arms and wrenched her away.

“Ask me now! It is not too late!” she begged, as she was hauled out of the room.

“Actually, it is,” Glorfindel said, releasing Erestor and turning to watch them leave. “I signed the requisition this morning. They are anticipating your arrival as we speak. Now, take her away,” Glorfindel said in a bored voice.

Secar struggled to keep a hold of her, but eventually removed her from Glorfindel’s quarters, although her protests, curses and screams could be heard for some time as she was escorted to the harem.

Glorfindel chuckled lightly and clasped a supportive hand on Erestor’s shoulder before he walked over to the refreshments Secar had brought in earlier.

“It is all happening tonight,” he commented, mainly to himself. “Drink?”

“No thankyou, my Lord. If you permit it, I think I shall retire now. Thankyou for my present,” he said monotonously, stiffly moving towards the door.

“She was using you, Erestor,” Glorfindel reminded him.

“I was using her,” Erestor whispered then exited the room.

Chapter 10

“Happy Begetting Day!” Cirilea and Tamarin called, finally wading through the many other party guests to Erestor, their son Camrinc tucked against Cirilea’s body.

Almost the entire peasant population had turned out to help Erestor celebrate his day of maturity in the Town Square on the lower levels of Gondolin’s Golden Flower House. Erestor appreciated their presence more than the meagre gifts few could offer, his heart still heavy from the night before.

Earlier that day he had gone to his father and gave back the ring, merely saying that Silindrical had turned down his offer, though it was not long before rumour spread and Earane found out the truth. Watching his son sadly dress for what should have been the happiest day of his life to date, his heart bled just as much as Erestor’s.

No amount of consoling or congratulations could drag Erestor from his gloomy thoughts. And though the party appeared to lift his spirits, Earane could tell it was a farce. His idle banter with old friends was overly polite and strained at best. It did not help that Silindrical’s enraged father interrupted the merry-making, blaming Erestor for all that would now befall his daughter.

Stunned, Erestor resembled a fish for several moments, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. Linwelin took no notice of Erestor’s innocent, shocked and hurt expression and continued to accuse him of conspiring against his daughter while he gained favours with a Lord by warming his bed.

Unable to watch his son being desecrated at his own maturation ceremony, Earane made to step up, however, Lord Glorfindel and a handful of palace guards then came stomping through the crowd to where the Elf was making all the ruckus.

“Linwelin, I must insist you leave now before you make a fool of yourself,” Glorfindel strongly warned.

“No! He!” Linwelin threw an accusing finger at Erestor, “has betrayed my trust and my daughter. And he has bewitched you, my lord!”

“Has he now?” Glorfindel asked in an airy tone.

“Indeed. See the way you immediately jump to his defence? Once you were on the other side of the conflict. Black magic is the cause! We all know how long he spends in the library each day! He has had easy access to the books everyday for the past twenty years! I tell you he is using them to his own devious ends!”

“Erestor!” Glorfindel gasped in mock alarm. “Is this true?”

“No my Lord! I would *never* dare go near those dreaded books,” he said adamantly.

“Well, in that case, I shall have to revert back to my original theory.”

“And that is…?” Linwelin prompted. Earane, meanwhile, had moved to his son’s side and placed an arm around his shoulder in love and support.

“That your daughter is a maniacal, devious, power-hungry strumpet who deserves everything she has and will get as a harlot of the court!” Glorfindel stated, his words building with passion and volume as he went on.

Linwelin was about to protest, but Glorfindel continued.

“More than that, I believe it was *you* who brought her up to behave this way. And that it was *you* who urged her into a relationship with Erestor and later myself. And that *you* would then use whichever union she chose to also be counted among us Lords, as father of the bride!”

Linwelin seethed with rage and bared his teeth. “Wouldn’t you!? Look at the squalor we live in! You depend upon us to survive, yet you treat us, the peasants, as dirt! If you lived in these conditions then I assure you, you would also strive for more and would do anything in your power to do so!”

“Even use your own daughter?”

“If necessary!”

“Yet, only you have done this. No one else has… Only you.”

“They do not have the guts… But had I succeeded… Oooooh! They would be green with envy for sure! I would have been their god! Someone to worship for having the courage and ambition they lacked! Someone with more chances of succeeding than this miserable, scrawny little runt!” he roared, fiercely pointing a finger at Erestor.

Erestor kept wincing every time Linwelin shouted louder, the words grating on his sensitive ears. A few babies could be heard wailing through the crowd as they were woken from their slumber. And when Linwelin pointed Erestor out again amidst his fellow Elves, his heart plummeted, wishing to be anywhere but here listening to these accusations, however true or untrue they may be.

“And you thought you would stand out because of your clothes,” Earane softly joked so only Erestor could hear as he gave his son a supportive squeeze.

Glorfindel merely stood there through the tirade with an eyebrow raised, his eyes rooted to Linwelin. Thinking the Elf was mad, Glorfindel tipped his head towards him and the guards immediately marched forwards and took the man away. For a moment, it looked like Linwelin would make a run for it, however, after gauging the density of the crowd, he saw that there would be no escape. The guards took him by the arms and led him towards the palace.

Once they had gone, everyone still stared at Glorfindel, waiting for someone to say something.

“Is this a celebration or a meeting of mourning?” Earane called out, hoping to lighten the mood. “Start up the music!”

Slowly, the band players began strumming their instruments, gradually joining together in song. Party guests slowly turned back to dancing and more jovial activities, eventually dispersing throughout the square, though some stayed nearby, their curiosity as to why Glorfindel had not yet left piqued.

“Was there something else you wanted Lord Glorfindel?” Earane asked stiffly.

“Well, now that you mention it…” Glorfindel said sultrily, his eyes blatantly roaming Erestor’s body in obvious lust.

Earane growled low in his throat and placed himself between the Lord and his son.

Glorfindel gave a silent snort, a smile touching his features at his dismissal. “Very well, I take my leave,” he said, turning away. “But first,” he paused and walked back towards Erestor, however Earane intercepted him first, their chests touching. “I merely wish to give Erestor his present,” he said in all sincerity.

“I thought you gave that to him last night,” Earane angrily ground out.

“Yes, but I feel bad now and wish to make it up to him.”

Earane’s throat clenched in suspicion but moved aside nonetheless.

“Thankyou,” Glorfindel said and stepped up to Erestor.

“Happy Begetting Day, Erestor!” Glorfindel chirped and held out a small box for the Apprentice Scribe.

“Thankyou,” Erestor said politely, taking the box, though he dreaded what he might find inside. It was not so much that he did not desire Glorfindel’s gift, for surely whatever it may be would be grand indeed. However, he did not want his father to feel inadequate due to the extravagant present.

Slowly untying the ribbon, Erestor opened the box. With a frown, he raised his eyes to Glorfindel for an explanation.

“They are keys to your new room and office,” he explained.

“But the presentation for all apprentices to be promoted is not for another month,” Erestor reasoned.

“Officially yes, but King Turgon wants you to start right away, since you have already stayed in your position two years longer than necessary. And, since my father is Lord of the House you live in, you shall work for him.”

“Then why did he not come and tell Erestor this? Why you?” Earane asked, aggravated.

“Because, as Lord, he has far too many pressing matters to attend to, and therefore must pass work onto others. And, as a Lord in training, I thought it best to get some experience dealing with peasants. I do hope you will not be as troublesome as this when I am in charge, jeweller,” Glorfindel sneered.

“Thankyou! for delivering these to me,” Erestor spoke up quickly, averting Glorfindel’s attention away from his father. “And, given his Majesty wishes it, I shall start immediately,” Erestor gave a smile and bowed.

“Your new bedroom is one level above your last one, but in the Golden Flower section, rather than the King’s. Come to me in the morn and I will take you to it. Your office is the third on the right, facing the House library doors from the outside. You have three days to move your personal items. Report again to me when you are ready to start,” Glorfindel commanded.

“Yes my Lord, thankyou.”

“You are welcome. And now that I have played delivery boy for the King and my father, here is your present from me!” he said, quickly grabbing Erestor around his neck and shoulders and pressed his lips to the Scribe’s, easily thrusting his tongue inside as the younger Elf was still in shock.

Erestor cried out in alarm, his eyes wide as Glorfindel pulled him tight against his body. Sliding a hand down the Scribe’s back, the blonde firmly grasped Erestor’s backside, the other remaining behind his head, keeping Erestor locked in the kiss.

Earane watched, helpless, as his son was ruthlessly violated right in front of him. His hands balled into fists when he saw Glorfindel’s arm moving down Erestor’s body. His son’s shocked eyes roamed all around the courtyard, silently pleading for help from anyone, but eventually gave up and closed them in shame, a single tear falling down his cheek. Earane then moved forward to break them up, uncaring of the consequences, but a few strong hands swiftly grasped the Elf, staying him from doing something stupid.

The elves dancing nearby noticed a rise in tension levels and looked to Glorfindel kissing Erestor in mild amusement. The rest of the guests further away soon noted others no longer moving, their attention placed elsewhere and turned to look also. Realising few now appreciated their efforts, the band one by one discontinued playing and all eyes were on the Scribe and Lord once more.

Noting that he was now the centre of attention, Glorfindel inwardly smirked. Erestor remained rigid against the Lord despite all the other elf did to involve him in the embrace. Glorfindel’s tongue wrapped itself around Erestor’s lax one, obscenely exploring the depths of his mouth. Sucking Erestor’s tongue into his mouth, he tried to incur some sort of response but again received none. His hand on the back of Erestor’s head began stroking the silky locks, while his hand on the firm posterior started squeezing the rounded cheek upon which it rested.

A familiar warmth in his nether regions began to grow and Glorfindel moaned loudly into Erestor’s mouth, letting all nearby hear his enjoyment as his hips began lazily thrusting against the other’s groin.

Erestor, meanwhile, couldn’t think… all he knew was that after reassuring his father of his safety, occasionally standing up for the Lords he worked for, specifically Glorfindel, this was now vilifying his words in a most horrendous way right in front of his father! Though he was too proud to cry outright, a few more tears leaked from his eyes nonetheless.

Tasting the salty sweetness of Erestor’s tears, Glorfindel relented and released the Scribe’s mouth but did not let him go. Instead, the Lord pulled Erestor’s head onto his shoulder, giving the younger Elf a chance to dry his face before anyone saw, stroking the black hair comfortingly. Moving his mouth closer to Erestor’s ear, the Lord whispered, “Wait a few nights… I will give you something to cry about then,” his hand clenching in the dark hair to punctuate his words. Erestor, whom had wiped his tears away on the other’s tunic, pushed the Lord away harshly, stumbling backwards to put as much distance between them as possible. Glorfindel merely smiled at Erestor’s behaviour and turned to Earane. “You have raised a good boy, Earane. Time for me to make him an elf,” he said haughtily, then stalked away, the crowd parting for him as he went.

Chapter 11

Erestor flitted about his office, placing books here and parchment there, arranging his desk to face the door rather than the window along the back wall, stocking his drawers with quills and inkwells, adding a few personal items from his rooms and putting the two extra chairs on the other side of his desk for consultation purposes. Not that he expected to have many, but they must have been put there for a reason. Just as he was straightening his desktop items there came a knock at the door.

A slight flutter arose in his stomach at the sound and straightening up proudly, Erestor crisply called “Enter.” However, the thrill Erestor had felt disappeared the second the door opened and Glorfindel stepped over the threshold.

“My Lord, how may I help you?”

“You were supposed to come to me first thing this morning for your jobs,” he said sharply.

“Yes my Lord, I know. I was about to come… I just thought to make my office ready before starting work.”

“You have had three days to make your office ready. You are now officially wasting mine and the King’s time.”

Erestor looked as if he were about to protest, but swallowed any complaint and nodded his head, lowering his eyes in supplication. “I am sorry my Lord.”

“I should hope so. Though you ought to be more sorry for that robe!”

“What is wrong with it?” Erestor asked, looking at his robe, expecting to find a stain or stitching come undone.

“Look at it! It’s gaudy! I doubt any Scribe has ever worn anything so hideous!”

Erestor felt a lump in his throat form and swallowed around it. “My father bought this for my majority,” he mumbled, unconsciously brushing it down.

“It shows,” Glorfindel said harshly.

Erestor’s head bolted up, his eyes wide. “I like it,” he stated, squaring his shoulders.

“Well it won’t do. I shall see that new clothes are issued for you. You are now a representative of my House and as such you are expected to look presentable, as any possession of mine is.”

“You do not own me,” Erestor growled lowly. Glorfindel merely raised an eyebrow in amusement and before Erestor knew what was happening, he found himself wedged firmly between Glorfindel and the back wall of his office.

“Do not be so sure of that,” Glorfindel husked, his lips all but pressed against Erestor’s. “My rooms. Tonight,” he ordered, smoothly rolling his hips into the Scribe’s. The younger Elf’s eyes widened upon feeling the Lords’ hard and generous ‘package’. Glorfindel smirked, his intentions grasped, he swiftly swept from the room.

Shaking, Erestor slowly shuffled to his chair and sat down, his mind blank of all thought except that of his impending doom.

~*~*~*~*~

Down the hall, Glorfindel smiled to himself as he would soon *finally* gain that which he had coveted most for the past two years.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R-NC17
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Ummm, Sexual assault leading to rape! Please do not read if you are not old enough or won’t be able to handle such a theme!
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)

AN: Like it says above, this is a R to NC-17 rated chapter with content of non-con and sexual assault with the intent of rape later to come. Please note this now and be aware of your own likes or dislikes of these issues before continuing on. If you choose to read even if it squicks you out then I take no blame for your own lack of judgement.



Chapter 12

The door swung slowly on its hinges and Glorfindel appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe. His hair was unbound, cascading over his shoulders and down his back. The white sleeveless, floor-length jacket he wore was left open and the matching leggings rode low on his hips, clearly showing off his well-developed chest, mid-section and arms.

The Lord purred low in his throat at the sight of Erestor. True, he was still wearing the gaudy robe his father had bought, but the vulnerable and slightly scared look on his face heightened Glorfindel’s thriving libido more than if the Scribe were naked.

“Good Evening, Erestor.”

“Lord Glorfindel,” Erestor bowed politely, if a little stiffly. The staleness of the younger elf’s breath caught the Lord’s attention and he frowned, knowing Erestor had consumed not a little wine but shrugged it off. Erestor was finally his.

“‘Tis a shame. You have just missed dinner,” Glorfindel sulked with a pout. “But you are just in time for dessert.” He licked his lips wantonly then grabbed Erestor’s hand and pulled him into the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

Erestor spun round unsteadily at the sound of the lock clicking into place, his eyes wide in panic and his breathing faster than normal. Glorfindel smirked at Erestor’s adorable vulnerability and walked forwards, matching Erestor’s every step of retreat until the Scribe came flush up against a wall.

“Ahhh, Lord Glorfindel, I would just like to say-oomph!” Erestor was cut off as Glorfindel smothered the Scribe’s mouth with his own. He eagerly grasped Erestor’s slim hips and began thrusting his already hard member into them.

Glorfindel’s tongue harshly thrust into Erestor’s mouth, ravaging the sweet confines, wrapping itself around the others and sucked it into his mouth, greedily feasting upon its juices. Glorfindel moaned as he assaulted Erestor, intoxicated with the other's mere presence. Erestor, however, remained flat against the wall, Glorfindel’s larger bulk giving him no leeway or route of escape. He whimpered at the Lord’s animalistic tendencies, his soft lips being torn by Glorfindel’s sharp teeth.

Changing the direction of his thrusts to the side a little, one of Glorfindel’s hands cupped the Scribe’s penis, kneading it through the fabric of his robe and leggings. Erestor tore his mouth away from the Lord’s with some difficulty and cried out in shock and pleasure.

“W-wait!… Slow down!” Erestor panted, pushing Glorfindel away by the shoulders, yet not budging the warrior a bit.

“NO!” Glorfindel growled fiercely, causing Erestor to wince. Placing his hands around the collar, Glorfindel ripped open Erestor’s robe, sending buttons flying everywhere, and pushed the material off the petite form. Erestor seized up in shock, his arms bent over his chest, hiding as much of himself as possible, his fists covering his mouth as his breathing palpitated.

Glorfindel took a moment to enjoy what little he could see of Erestor’s pale skin, his erection jumping at the sight. Bending down, Glorfindel grasped Erestor around the upper legs and hoisted the slim figure over his shoulder. Carrying him to the bedroom Glorfindel ungraciously threw Erestor upon the mattress, stripping the Scribe of his boots and leggings before he had stopped bouncing from the impact. Glorfindel frowned upon noticing that Erestor was soft and if the tears streaming from his eyes were anything to go on, not enjoying the proceedings at all. However, watching Erestor fold into the foetal position, any thoughts of concern were forgotten as he received a most delicious view of Erestor’s perfect little puckered entrance. Quickly disposing himself of his clothes, Glorfindel knelt on the bed. Grasping Erestor’s hips firmly, the Lord easily manipulated the distraught Scribe onto his knees, though the fair face remained hidden within hands and bedclothes upon the mattress, his posterior left exposed high in the air.

Grinning delightfully, Glorfindel positioned himself behind Erestor and gently parted the younger elf’s cheeks further. However, his smile died on his lips at the sight that greeted him.

“What is this?” he hissed harshly, pressing a thumb to the entrance.

“I-I th-thought you w-would no-ot want an-any he-he-s-hesit… hold ups,” Erestor brokenly explained, tears flooding the quilt cover.

“You know damn well this is not what I want!” Glorfindel cried and slapped the right cheek hard enough to leave an angry red handprint. “Get out and come back tomorrow before dinner!” The Lord watched Erestor scramble off the bed and rush out of the room, his pert buttocks bouncing as he went. Stopping outside the door, Erestor hastily pulled on his robe, holding it close around him and hurried towards the main door. “Oh and Erestor,” Glorfindel called out from the bedroom, hindering the Scribe’s exit. “Be sure not to prepare yourself again.”

Erestor fled to the wicked sounds of laughter, running back his rooms as fast as he could, throwing himself upon the mattress and curling into a ball. And there he stayed until daybreak.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Ummm, Sexual assault! Please do not read if you are not old enough or won’t be able to handle such a theme!
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)

AN: Like it says above, this is an R rated chapter with content of non-con and sexual assault. Please note this now and be aware of your own likes or dislikes of these issues before continuing on. If you choose to read even if it squicks you out then I take no blame for your own lack of judgement.



Chapter 13


The next day Erestor worked on in silence, completing by lunchtime all the tasks given to him that supposedly would take all week. Erestor went to his supervisor but it proved useless as he was pre-occupied with some servant. He refused to go to Glorfindel for more work after last night’s debacle, and no doubt tonight’s repeat performance. Instead he decided to spend the rest of the day in the library, sorting various books, but also browsing a few to read at his leisure later.

Taking one back to his office, Erestor became so engrossed with the erotic tales of pirates and their captured bounty that he was surprised when a servant entered his office without permission, seeking to clean the room. Looking outside he saw dusk had arrived and the scent of food wafted upon the air. Taking flight, Erestor rushed past the cleaner without a word and ran to Glorfindel’s chamber.

Skidding to a stop outside the doors, Erestor paused long enough for his breath to calm somewhat, though he was still panting heavily when he knocked on the doors.

Glorfindel abruptly opened the doors, as though he had been waiting for the scribe for sometime.

“I was starting to think you would not come,” he said in a most displeased tone.

Erestor’s heart missed a beat at the barely restrained anger blazing beneath Glorfindel’s words and eyes.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” he bowed, “I was distracted and lost track of time.”

The blonde’s jaw clenched then his head nodded once stiffly before he moved aside for Erestor to enter. Erestor, not wanting to displease Glorfindel further this eve, moved swiftly into the room and stopped near to the Lord.

“I thought I ripped that robe beyond repair last night and sent new ones to your room today?” Glorfindel said, standing near the door, but it was now closed.

“Ahh, did you? I am sorry, I have not been to my rooms all day. Though the one I wore yesterday was brown, if you will remember? This one is a murky green,” he explained politely.

“Just how many of those things did your father buy you?”

“Three, my Lord.”

“Well ten new, better ones, should now be in your room. From now on you shall wear only them and be sure to burn *these* ones tonight,” Glorfindel said, pinching at the sleeve of Erestor’s robe.

“Please my Lord, my father gave these to me for my begetting day. I swear I shall wear them in your company no longer, but I do not wish to discredit his gift so.”

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed at Erestor’s defiance, but he eventually gave in. “Fine, you may keep the remaining two, but should I see you in either, I will order you never to wear anything again!”

Erestor’s eyes widened at the threat and he lowered his head in a small acceptance of the command. “Y-yes, m-m-my Lord,” he stuttered.

Seeing Erestor’s submissive stance, Glorfindel’s lips curved upwards slightly. Moving closer to Erestor, he lightly ran the back of his index finger down a silky soft cheek. Erestor’s skin broke out in goosebumps lightly shuddering at the other’s closeness and touch. Taking another step, their chests now touching, Glorfindel’s hand moved to brush a wisp of hair, dangling near Erestor’s jaw line, but the sound of a door opening and a harsh clearing of the throat behind them stopped all seductive movements.

“What would you like me to do with the meal, sir?” Secar asked almost scornfully.

“Re-heat it and call us when it is ready,” Glorfindel ordered.

The butler bowed and left the room, re-entering the bedroom.

“Drink?” Glorfindel offered, finding the mood thoroughly broken.

“Yes please,” Erestor replied, grateful for the change.

“Have a seat,” Glorfindel said casually as he walked to the drinks cabinet.

Erestor gingerly sat on the couch, taking the glass the blonde gave him not long after.
“Thankyou,” he said, and took a small sip.

“Do you like it?” Glorfindel asked, flopping down on the lounge next to Erestor.

“I am unfamiliar with wines, but it is sufficient enough,” Erestor answered as politely and honestly as possible.

“It is the most expensive and extravagant wine that money can buy, and you say it is ‘sufficient’!” Glorfindel roared with laughter, startling Erestor somewhat. “You are right, of course, I care not for wine myself, but when dining with company it is the usual beverage served. But no… I like ale. Much more delicious and takes half as much to lose one’s senses! Have you ever done that, Erestor? Drunk so much you lose your sense of self?”

“No, I have not.”

“Mmmm… You should try it sometime. It can do wonders to help one loosen up…” Glorfindel spoke seductively, inching closer to Erestor until he pressed his face into the scribe’s neck and inhaled the other’s scent deeply. “You smell wonderful… What soap do you use?”

“It is unscented,” Erestor answered stonily, his face boldly facing forwards.

“Remind me to send you a lifetime’s supply of soap and hair oils… I want you smelling this way forever.” A hand comfortably rested on Erestor’s thigh while an arm, minus its glass, wrapped around the slim shoulders. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Then why has your breath sped up?”

“It has not,” Erestor resolutely answered, knowing himself it was a lie.

“Please, there is nothing to fear… just a quiet meal followed by a pleasant between-the-sheets activity, shared by two childhood acquaintances and then you can go back to your room. That does not sound so bad, does it?”

“…”

“Does it?” Glorfindel asked again, his hand clenching into Erestor’s thigh.

“No my Lord! It does not!” Erestor answered immediately, his face wincing from the pain. The hand loosened its grip and gently began rubbing the sore leg, almost apologetically.

“I am so glad you agree…” Glorfindel smiled thinly and began toying with the tips of Erestor’s ears, one with one hand and the other with his tongue. Erestor shuddered at the enchanting sensations but tried to pull away from them nonetheless, unfamiliar and powerful as they were. “Shhh, it is alright,” Glorfindel cooed, his other hand now travelling up high along Erestor’s inner thigh.

“No…” Erestor simpered as shivers of expectations ran up and down his spine.

“You can’t sto-” Glorfindel was cut off by a throat clearing behind them once more.

“Your dinner is served,” Secar announced, bowing low. “Is there anything else I can do this night?”

“No no,” Glorfindel said roughly, hesitantly standing. “You are excused.” The butler bowed again and left the blonde’s chambers. “Come,” he held out a hand for Erestor, which the scribe obligingly took and stood from the couch. Walking around the furniture, Erestor followed Glorfindel’s hand gesture and entered the bedroom. To the side of the bed was a small table, laden down with food and two chairs were placed at either end. It was obvious from the make-shift dining table that Glorfindel rarely took his meals in his rooms, and therefore had no need of a proper one. Although Erestor found it strange he did not have one ‘just in case’.

Glorfindel rounded the table and pulled out a chair for Erestor to sit in. Feeling little more than an Elleth on her first date, he grudgingly walked to the seat and sat down, half expecting the chair to be pulled out from under him. However, his bottom connected firmly with the wood and he half sighed in relief and placed his still-held glass of wine on the table. Then, for some strange reason, Glorfindel leant down and placed a quick kiss to Erestor’s cheek before taking his own seat on the other side of the table.

“Not that it matters, but I do hope you do not mind eating in my bedroom. I find the setting more intimate and will be less cumbersome in regards to travelling after the meal,” Glorfindel said, lust building upon his face already.

Erestor said nothing but nodded slowly, busy gazing at the spread. Looking up from all the various types of food, Erestor noticed Glorfindel had placed him, inadvertently or not, with a view of not only the Golden Lord, but also of his massive bed in the background, forever looming over the warrior as a reminder of what was yet to come.

“I did not know what you liked, so I had chef make nearly everything,” Glorfindel said, inwardly smirking at Erestor’s discouraged and distracted gaze.

The scribe’s eyes tracked back to Glorfindel and nodded once to give his understanding.

“Tuck in,” the blonde urged.

Sweeping his eyes over the foods again, Erestor decided first to have something simple, such as grapes, celery sticks and mango slices.

Glorfindel watched carefully as Erestor ate like a sparrow, forgetting to eat himself as he was lost gazing at the scribe’s mouth deliciously opening to encase the fruit, then the luscious lips closed over it again, a hint of tongue showing in between. And then, the whole routine started over again. He was mesmerised by the almost obscene religious experience between Erestor and his food being displayed openly before him. The small mouth and pouty lips opening and closing, the cavern beyond filling with food each time before the strong jaw took over and began seductively moving so that the skin stretched over the bone. Next, Erestor would swallow, the sound of gulping was barely heard, as was the food passing down his neck seen.

So taken in was Glorfindel by the repeated actions that he did not notice when they stopped nor that Erestor was warily looking at him.

“Are you not to partake in this meal?” Erestor eventually asked, hoping to divert Glorfindel's gaze to his eyes, rather than near his mouth.

“Yes, just wanting to make sure you were enjoying it first,” he easily shrugged off the awkward moment. “So, Erestor, how are you finding your new surroundings?”

“Very fine, thankyou. I enjoy the quietness of my office, but miss the companionship of my colleagues, to tell the truth.” Erestor was not sure why he mentioned his loneliness, but couldn’t take it back now.

“I shall make it a point to visit you more often then,” Glorfindel smiled around a piece of veal.

Erestor smiled in what he hoped to be an encouraging way but was inwardly kicking himself.

“How was your first full day of work?”

“It was pleasant enough.”

“Not too long? Boring? Hard? Uneventful?”

“Umm… I enjoyed it as much as one can enjoy work,” Erestor answered, not sure what Glorfindel wanted to hear.

“Really? I find all that studious work as dull as watching the grass grow. How you can stand it I will never know, but I suppose someone has to do it. And you are hardly suited to be a warrior. Do you remember? The First year of Expert? When we all did various activities to see which future was best for all of us? Not that many followed the guidelines of course, preferring to do their own thing, rather than what suited them best. But I remember you… you couldn’t hold a sword to save your life! Though, when Ecthelion did threaten you, you seemed to block the move alright. But nothing more than that! And the instructor gave you a Hobbit sword in the end! Oh! That was a fun week, wasn’t it?” He laughed.

“Yes,” Erestor said irritably, “I especially remember you having to re-take the general knowledge quiz because you copied off Lord Galdor and both of you failed.” Erestor held his chin up high, not backing down, even when Glorfindel glowered at the comment.

“I remember the day we beat you to a bloody pulp.”

“I remember you failing each and every test ever taken yet getting top mark for it nonetheless. At least my grades were honest and deserving.”

“Is that why you came bottom of Second year Intermediates?”

Erestor narrowed his eyes and grudgingly took a swig of wine.

Glorfindel smiled smugly, clearly winning their little game. “You were not good with the daggers either! Even the daintiest of girls managed to master them! Though you were not bad with the short bow… a little more practice and you would be fine, provided you stayed in a tree during a raid and did not run out of arrows. Any more than that and you would be Orc meat. Of course, in most battles the long bow is now used and, do you remember? It was taller than you? You had to stand on a box!” he laughed some more.

Erestor pretended to laugh at his own shortcomings, drinking some more wine at the same time.

“Except then, you couldn’t hold it up long enough to notch an arrow, take aim and fire! So the teacher had to file down the box until you stood at the exact height needed to rest the bow on the ground and fire! And then what happened?” Glorfindel urged with a smile.

“You knocked the bow out from under me, I fell face-first onto the ground and the arrow shot out and almost hit the teacher,” Erestor replied automatically. “Could I please have another drink?”

“Finished already? Sure. Where did I put my glass…?” Glorfindel asked more to himself, looking around the room.

“I believe you left it in the main room, along with the bottle,” Erestor said helpfully.

“Aaah yes,” Glorfindel suddenly remembered and left the room, entering moments later with wine and his glass. He filled Erestor’s cup again then sat down. “Now, where were we? Oh right, re-living priceless childhood memories. Remember when you-”

“How was your day, my Lord?” Erestor interrupted.

“I’m sorry?” Glorfindel floundered, stunned Erestor cut him off.

“You asked me earlier how my day had been, it is customary to ask the same question once the original has been answered. It would be rude and remiss of me not to put forth the query.”

“Oh, well, it was fine. My father intends to step down as Lord of the Golden Flower in fifty years and is training me to be his replacement. Unfortunately, I would rather remain as Captain of the Guard full time for a while longer, but my father insists I start taking over some of the small duties now, some which include paperwork,” he said with a shudder. “Yet there are some things which are even more tedious than that! Today, I met with a peasant… some farmer… saying his family was hungry and had nothing to eat-”

“What is so tedious about helping a starving family to survive?” Erestor asked.

“Just the way he continuously referred to a new-born and three other offspring, expecting my pity because he could not provide for his own family. And this is a farmer! Tell me, how can a farmer not feed his family?”

“Perhaps he does not grow something which is immediately edible. Wheat or sugar or wool, for instance. Maybe he needs to sell everything he can just to meet the quantity standards of food put in place.”

“Explain,” Glorfindel said around a piece of meat.

“Certain food and produce are only accepted and bought from the farmers in specific quantities. Perhaps what this farmer sells is bought only in large amounts. Some of the numbers are so high that farmers can only sell one lot of the food each season and must live off the gains for the whole year. Should they even be a tiny bit under, their entire year’s worth of money is gone. The only way they can survive from then is by swapping their products with other peasants for food. Though for those whose foods need to be processed first this method is useless to them as no one will then buy their goods. However, foods accepted in larger quantities are most often worth the least. The higher produced an item is, it often means the work to produce it is less than something rare. Therefore, when paid for, not only is the item being bought, but also the amount of work put into it. Then, when they are paid little for their wares, people will work twice as hard the next year, bringing their prices down further as there is even more of their product. And so, some farmers leave crops unsown, to bring the levels of food available down and raise the prices. There is obviously plenty of food out there, but the people who truly need it cannot afford it for various reasons,” Erestor tried to explain as simply as he could.

“And how does this involve me?” Glorfindel asked nonplussed.

“Well, these incidences concern the people you shall one day govern. By then, these problems could have escalated and there will be mass-starvation and rebellions. You could be overthrown or killed.”

“Preposterous,” Glorfindel spat.

“No it isn’t. I mean, think about it. Peasants easily outnumber Lords, guards and every other status classified group in society, there could easily be a revolt unless something is done to better their position now.”

“Such as?”

“Well, take for instance this table. Here we have enough food to feed a family of eight for an entire day, yet it is being wasted now on only us two. Perhaps if you gave them your leftovers? Or had less cooked and only ate what you need. After all, that is all they want, the amount of food needed to sustain them each day,” he said in his most emotionally compelling voice, but his face remained blank.

Glorfindel continued eating, though his chewing had decreased to almost nothing as he sat there and regarded Erestor closely.

“And you said I could be overthrown…? How?”

“As I said, peasants outnumber Lords exponentially, should the situation become dire enough, then yes, an uprising could very well be possible.”

“What can I do to ensure this does not occur?”

“My Lord, they… *we* are used to living simply. We do not ask for much. Food to sustain us and our families, clothes, security… just being able to go to sleep each night and not worry where the next meal is coming from would be more than enough. It is not much, but would placate our feelings immensely,” Erestor lightly urged.

“So, you still consider yourself to be one of them?” Glorfindel almost scorned.

“It is where I come from,” Erestor answered steadily.

“But you are not from there any more and their concerns are no longer your own.”

“I disagree. Whatever matters concern my father, concern me. If something disturbs him, then I too am involved.”

“So if your father has a problem welding gold onto mithril, you shall be involved with that also?”

“A matter such as that is out of context for our discussion, however I would be concerned for my father and his plight, but I would not be directly involved, no.”

“You now receive six pieces of gold a week for your efforts, why do you not give them to him since your food and accommodation are taken care of?”

“I do! Or at least I shall,” Erestor replied, offended. “Yet one person having a little more each week will not help solve the problem.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“See that wages are raised and the price of food is lowered and try to see that none goes to waste.”

“And how might I do that?”

“Talk to your advisers, make sure they understand your order and implement it. They will know how to make your ideas become reality.”

“Please! They guard the treasury every minute of every day, all week! They will not give up money easily.”

“They will not lose or miss it. The more money in circulation, the more that comes back to the palace. People are fed and the state is rich. Everyone wins and all is happy!”

“Somehow I do not think it will be that easy…”

“Well, no, I concede to that. However, once someone-”

“Someone?”

Erestor blushed, “If you start the transitions, others *will* follow.”

Glorfindel only looked at Erestor in a bored and sceptical manner.

Realising the Lord was losing patience; Erestor decided to try once more then let it be for now.

“Take myself, for instance. Everyone was in complete furore when I was to join your class and become an adviser. Yet King Turgon could sense all those years ago, that the Kingdom was disturbed and that change was in the air. He saw in me a way to ease tensions for a time. But he cannot do more unless someone else is also willing to stand with him on this, or else all the lords can rally together, say that he has lost the ability to competently rule Gondolin and will be forced to step down from his title.”

“Then perhaps one day someone shall help him, in the meantime, I would like to continue with absolute power. And now, given that you have not eaten for the past ten minutes, I can only assume you have finished? And so, we shall retire,” he stood and extended a hand to Erestor.

“No no! I am still eating!” Erestor replied quickly, his diversion tactic not quite working as well as he had hoped. Picking up his fork he ate some carrots, followed by a few peas. Glorfindel looked mildly miffed but also half smirked at Erestor’s sudden change from talking to eating. Dropping his arm to his side with a small sigh he sat back down again and watched as the scribe ate his fill. After all, Erestor would need his energy this night.

“Are you not to eat more?” Erestor asked as he once again noticed he was being watched.

“No, just waiting for you to finish.”

It was Erestor’s turn to sigh this time, and he set his fork down, deciding to get this over and done with.

Glorfindel smiled brightly and stood again, once more extending his hand.

“What shall you do with the excess?” Erestor asked, nodding at the food.

“Oh, I am sure there are some hungry dogs out there somewhere,” Glorfindel shrugged it off.

Erestor placed his hand in Glorfindel’s and stood from the table.

By the hand, Glorfindel pulled Erestor with him as he backed towards the bed. Once the back of his legs hit the side of the mattress, the Lord halted and tugged Erestor right up against him. Giving a small smirk, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the scribe, then lowered his head and gently kissed the full lips. Erestor was rather taken aback by the almost loving kiss placed upon his mouth, and with some encouragement from Glorfindel, wound his arms around the warrior’s waist, even though the Lord directed them to his neck. The blonde smirked again, this time into the kiss, as he noted and appreciated Erestor’s small act of defiance and unwillingness to place himself in a submissive stance.

Bringing Erestor with him, Glorfindel fell backwards onto the bed, the scribe landing on top. Holding the slighter elf around the waist with one arm, Glorfindel used the other to shuffle his way around the bed until he lay with his head upon the pillows. Erestor was still unresponsive within the kiss and if he had not placed his arms around the warrior, one might mistake him for a rag doll.

Tiring quickly of just kissing, Glorfindel’s hands wandered down to firmly grasp and knead Erestor’s buttocks. However, that too held little joy through so much clothing, thus he slowly began to inch up the robe Erestor wore.

“Lift up a bit,” Glorfindel ordered.

Erestor grudgingly lifted his hips while his Lord pulled the garment up further. Lying down again, Erestor then raised his chest followed by his arms as Glorfindel eventually pulled the robe off him completely.

“Now take off my shirt.”

Erestor lifted his chest again and undid the first button on Glorfindel’s shirt.

Meanwhile Glorfindel’s hands returned to their previous position on Erestor’s buttocks, sometimes dipping beneath the leggings as well as the occasional roaming of Erestor’s now bare back. “And add a little personal touch,” he said, giving no further explanation to Erestor’s quizzical look.

Assuming Glorfindel was only ordering him to take a more active role in the proceedings, Erestor hesitantly opened another button and dipped his head to give a quick, experimental kiss to Glorfindel’s upper chest. From the sigh that resounded not long after, Erestor almost smiled proudly at having guessed correctly. However, that soon changed as he despised himself and Glorfindel for making him participate in his own degradation. The scribe continued his task of pushing the buttons through their corresponding holes and letting the material fall apart, each time placing a kiss to Glorfindel’s skin.

“Be bold, Erestor, do a little more,” the Lord said gruffly when his shirt was half undone.

His jaw tensing, Erestor lowered his head again and gave the skin a lingering kiss followed by a small lick to the skin. Glorfindel moaned and Erestor continued.

When the shirt was open all the way, Erestor lay down again and remained still. Glorfindel took the other’s face between his hands and pulled him up for another kiss.

“Suck on my nipples,” Glorfindel ordered, his lips still attached to Erestor’s.

Erestor tensed and broke the kiss. “Surely your slaves could do this for you?” he tried to defer the task.

“Yes, they could and have done so many times. But I want to see how you do it.”

“I-I have never done it before,” Erestor spoke timidly.

“Excellent, I can train you to cater to my tastes alone,” Glorfindel smirked, brushing the back of his hand against Erestor’s cheek. Pushing on the lithe shoulders, the warrior guided Erestor down to his chest. “Place your lips near to a nipple, the right, shall we say? Give the area a small lick to warm it up, then reach out with your tongue once more and curl it around the nub, slowly bringing your mouth to it as you do so and eventually place your lips around the nipple and gently suck. And use your fingers to tease the other.”

Swallowing his pride Erestor lowered his head but halted just above the flesh, staring it down as one would with a dog, contemplating what he was about to do.

“Erestor,” Glorfindel growled warningly.

Erestor flashed him a despising look for a second then lowered himself further towards the nipple. As Glorfindel had advised, he flicked it a shy lick to begin with, then did so again with more confidence in response to Glorfindel’s moan. Bringing his lips down to surround the area, he lavished it with attention from his tongue, and began to gently suck. One hand strayed to the other nipple and began toying with it. As with his tongue, he first flicked it with his fingernail, then circled the nipple a few times with a finger, then started softly pinching and pulling at it.

Glorfindel began moaning louder, arching his back and groping Erestor all the more, almost for support.

Erestor continued what Glorfindel demanded of him all the while thinking up a thousand inventive ways to kill the Lord and make it look like an accident. When he reached concept number 432, Erestor suddenly stilled, frozen rigid in place for a few moments. Carefully spreading his legs to lie at either side of Glorfindel’s hips the scribe then moved his hands to the warrior’s broad shoulders and pushed himself up with all four limbs. Looking down along the Lord’s body, Erestor swallowed as he saw the very noticeable bulge now protruding from Glorfindel’s leggings.

Glorfindel waited patiently and watched Erestor’s actions curiously despite his want to continue the proceedings and smirked when realising what the focal point of the scribe’s distraction was. “Would you like to touch it?” Glorfindel asked and before Erestor could utter a reply, the warrior rolled them over, trapping Erestor beneath his body. Grasping a slender hand in his, the blonde lifted his hips up enough to pull Erestor’s limb down between their bodies to place it on his erection.

Erestor immediately stiffened and pulled away, but Glorfindel easily caught the hand again and put it back on his penis, his own hand keeping Erestor’s in place. The scribe struggled, trying to escape the Lord’s grasp but Glorfindel was too strong.

Holding the smaller hand firmly, Glorfindel began rubbing himself through his leggings with Erestor’s hand pressed tight against his erection. Once a rhythm had been established of long slow strokes, Glorfindel made himself comfortable, lying half on Erestor, half on the bed. Pressing his face into the side of Erestor’s head, who resolutely stared blankly at the ceiling, though tears could be seen collecting in the dark eyes. Glorfindel’s breaths came out in puffs against the scribe’s cheek as the speed of the strokes on the Lord’s member were hastened. Erestor lay as still as possible, taking no further part in the blonde’s pleasure, hoping Glorfindel would find no additional use for him tonight.

Glorfindel eventually began thrusting. First small, controlled thrusts, growing into larger, harsher ones. His groans giving voice to his pleasure. The need for more physical contact driving him, Glorfindel’s lips started mapping their way over to Erestor’s mouth, sucking, licking and kissing as they went, albeit sloppily. Losing himself over to his senses, Glorfindel plunged his tongue inside Erestor’s mouth. There was no finesse to his movements, just the all-encompassing need to taste the scribe.

Erestor’s hand started growing numb. Glorfindel’s hand squeezed it tight around his erection while his hips and penis in particular were moving so fast now that Erestor was sure there would be burn marks on his palm when his limb was finally freed. His mouth was faring little better. No part seemed too deep or intimate to Glorfindel’s questing tongue. His lips were stretched wide over the relentless muscle that plunged, searched and ravished his mouth in no particular order or style.

Then suddenly Glorfindel stiffened and Erestor felt the cock beneath his hand pulse. The Lord moaned loudly into Erestor’s mouth. Feeling something warm seeping through the material of Glorfindel’s leggings, Erestor used the blonde’s weakened state to pull his hand and mouth away, gasping for breath as he wiped his hand on the bed coverlet.

Glorfindel seemed not to mind however, too overwhelmed in post-ejaculation bliss to care. Instead he flung an arm around Erestor’s middle and snuggled up closer, still lying half on, half off the scribe.

“Tomorrow night, it is going in your mouth,” he said tiredly, smiling. Next moment Erestor felt a dead weight crushing him into the mattress. Looking at the blonde’s face Erestor determined Glorfindel was asleep. Pushing at the shoulders the scribe tried to remove Glorfindel from him but the Lord was too heavy.

“My Lord?” he whispered, shaking an upper arm. Glorfindel gave no response. “My Lord? Glorfindel? GLORFINDEL!” he tried again but gave up, deciding the rest of the house would not be happy if he woke them up. After thinking 229 amusing ways to cause the blonde grievous bodily harm, Secar entered the room.

Erestor’s heart leapt with joy upon seeing the butler. But Secar appeared not to notice Erestor at all and began fiddling with the wood in the fireplace, making room for a few more logs to be thrown on. After that he began removing the leftover food and plates and moved them onto a trolley to be taken out of the room. Just as his work seemed to be over, Erestor gave up on craning his head, a desperate look on his face while trying to catch the other elf’s eye.

“Umm, excuse me, do you think you could give me a hand, please?” Erestor asked politely, pushing a little on Glorfindel’s shoulders to give the butler an idea on what he needed help with.

Secar turned swiftly as if stunned by the voice, his eyes settling upon Erestor almost scathingly. “Of course,” he said, his voice overly kind. Walking to a cupboard, Secar opened the door and grasped a blanket then went to the bed. Unfolding it he threw it over Glorfindel and his strumpet, ignoring Erestor’s protests. “There, nice and warm are we?” he asked mockingly then turned sharply on his heel and left the room, wheeling the trolley with him.

Erestor began thinking of ways to have Secar transferred to the armed forces.

TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to the wonderful Naresha and DA for telling me about Wild Rock (and a few others)> Guess what I’m buying guys? :p
Rated: R
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Ummm, Sexual assault! Please do not read if you are not old enough or won't be able to handle such a theme!
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people's toys. ;)

AN: Like it says above, this is an R rated chapter with content of non-con and sexual assault. Please note this now and be aware of your own likes or dislikes of these issues before continuing on. If you choose to read even if it squicks you out then I take no blame for your own lack of judgement.




Chapter 14

The public baths of the House of the Golden Flower had four different types of tubs. There was a large communal one, more like a swimming pool than a bath and could easily fit forty people comfortably around the rim alone, let alone an extra thirty or so in the middle. Then there were five smaller baths where smaller groups could relax. However, should the party be smaller, there were seven baths capable of seating six individuals. And lastly, there were the single tubs with a curtain for optional privacy.

Erestor lay in such a bath right now, the curtain drawn around it as he scrubbed his body raw. Not that he was ashamed of his body, of course. Few Elves were. But he was ashamed of what had occurred in Glorfindel’s rooms and feared someone would be able to see what shameful acts he had participated in just by looking at him. The rational part of Erestor told him this would not be possible, yet all he was concerned with right now was for word not to reach his father about his late-night capers with Lord Glorfindel. And thus here he was. Hidden behind a flimsy piece of material to hide his body and any secrets it may tell.

Scrubbing his body hard, several times over, especially his hand, Erestor was beginning to feel clean again, though he knew tomorrow morning would be more arduous on his body. Emptying the water he then re-filled the tub with hot water and let his muscles soak and relax in the enveloping warmth. Letting his mind wander, his thoughts unwillingly strayed back to Glorfindel’s bed chamber, earlier that morn.

~*~

Glorfindel awoke in the early hours of the morning and looked at Erestor blearily. The Scribe had not slept, remaining awake should any chance for escape occur. Yet even if he were wandering the realm of Lorien,* it would have been easy to notice the lift of pressure from his chest. Glorfindel held himself up on his forearms and smiled down at Erestor endearingly. The Scribe raised an eyebrow in question but Glorfindel remained silent. Leaning down, the blonde kissed Erestor tenderly but soon a growing passion overtook his actions and he met Erestor’s lips with more force.

Once again, Erestor remained passive and allowed the kiss to continue to deepen but did not encourage it. Glorfindel abruptly finished the lip-lock and smiled again.

“Aaahh…” he said, a look of awe over his face, his hand stroking the hair on the top of Erestor’s head, “The things you do to me…”

Erestor remained silent, not sure what ‘things’ Glorfindel was referring to, nor the effect they seemingly had on the blonde.

“You should go,” Glorfindel said with great difficulty, his face showing clearly how much it pained him to suggest it and how much he hated the reality.

Erestor, however, had never heard such sweeter words and made to get up immediately. Glorfindel looked stunned for a moment which soon turned into a great sadness only to change suddenly into a look of anger. Yet with a superior amount of self-control, Glorfindel squashed it down, deep within himself, convincing himself at the same time that Erestor was only being practical. Instead he moved the rest of his body off the Scribe’s and allowed Erestor to leave the bed.

Admiring Erestor’s form in the firelight, Glorfindel watched as the Scribe collected his clothes while wearing only his leggings. Frowning upon noticing that Erestor’s trousers did little to enhance the gorgeous backside he knew the younger elf possessed, Glorfindel sat up slightly.

“I shall have new leggings sent to you also,” Glorfindel said, almost to himself. Erestor looked at Glorfindel for a moment then stiffly nodded his head.

“Rest well, my Lord,” he bowed.

“Come back tomorrow night before dinner,” Glorfindel ordered then rolled over to sleep once more.

Erestor left and headed straight for the public baths.

~*~

Still, there was no point to Erestor’s compulsiveness to not be seen as the household was not yet up, although the bakers were due to start making bread at any moment.

Reluctantly exiting the water, he pulled on a complimentary robe for bath users, gathered his clothes and returned to his rooms.

Upon opening his door, Erestor’s attention was drawn to his cupboard, whose doors had been left ajar. Inside were the new robes Glorfindel spoke about earlier. All were dark in colour, obviously chosen to match his own features. Choosing one at random, Erestor tried it on. He couldn’t deny that the material, make, style, feel and look of the robe were beautiful, though they lacked the emotion his father’s had. Yet the effect it had when he tried it on made him feel it was more suited to someone who sold their body for a living. The top of the robe was tight, stretching across his chest/shoulders, leaving nothing to the imagination. Even his buttocks were laid bare to the world. Well, as much as they could be without actually being bare. But from there down, the fabric flared out as he spun in circles, draping again when still, and swishing as he walked.

Erestor groaned at the thought of his father ever seeing this on him, and knew his life would not be worth living should that ever occur. Taking it off, he then went through all the other robes. Five were black, two dark green, two burgundy and one navy blue. One of the black robes was dressier than the others, obviously meant to be worn during special occasions and banquets.

Choosing one of the looser robes, intending on telling Glorfindel of the sizing mistake, Erestor left to get his breakfast from the kitchens.

~*~*~*~*~

Erestor held the heavy folders close to his body, praying they would not fall as he knocked on the large doors before him.

“Come.”

Erestor entered the office at Glorfindel’s command.

“My Lord,” he bowed. “I have those invoices you requested.” He placed the papers on Glorfindel’s desk.

“Thankyou. That robe looks lovely on you,” he complimented, making sure to fully appreciate the view.

Erestor blushed. “Thankyou, they are all lovely, however-”

“However?” Glorfindel interrupted, a displeased look on his face, upset that Erestor could find fault with such extravagant gifts.

“Aaaah, that is, they are a little small… and I was just wondering that perhaps the tailors could take them out a little?”

“No.”

“No?” Erestor asked, disturbed at the quick dismissal.

“No.” Glorfindel repeated.

“May I ask why?” Erestor queried timidly.

Glorfindel sighed, starting to grow annoyed at Erestor. “The robes your father bought for you, the tailors took your measurements to make them. I then had those measurements sent to the palace tailors so they could choose or make the robes that would fit you the best. I then also requested for the robes to be taken in… a benefit of being a spectator,” he winked at Erestor. “Now if that is all, I must finish these before training.”

Erestor nodded and turned to leave.

“Try doing something different with your hair tomorrow, not just a ponytail.”

“Yes my Lord,” Erestor exited the office.

~*~*~*~*~

“Oh good, you are on time today,” Glorfindel smirked.

“Yes my Lord,” Erestor said and entered the room.

“The tailors inform me your new leggings should be in your quarters now.”

“Thankyou my Lord.”

From the other side of the room Secar cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other two. “Dinner is served,” he announced.

Glorfindel gestured for Erestor to go first and so he did, passing the butler with nary a thought or glance.

“Wine,” Glorfindel ordered, snapping his fingers at Secar.

“Yes my Lord,” Secar bowed low and sprang into action immediately.

A small smile lit Erestor’s face at the noticeably less amount of food set upon the table, but did not mention it throughout the meal.

Dinner proceeded quietly enough, each recounting their day, then any gossip they had heard lately, followed by more childhood anecdotes, though Erestor refused to take the bait this day. The meal soon ended, however, and Glorfindel stood, extending his hand to Erestor once more. The Scribe took it and was immediately pulled into a smouldering kiss. Shocked at Glorfindel’s intensity, Erestor easily gave up control of the lip lock, not that he wouldn’t have been dominated anyway. Unable to hold himself back, the Lord’s hands roamed all over the slighter elf’s body, leaving nothing within reach untouched.

Again he started walking backwards towards the edge of the bed, bringing Erestor with him. When his legs hit the mattress, Glorfindel stopped moving and eventually broke the kiss.

“Kneel,” Glorfindel demanded, his face portraying only his lordly nature.

Erestor’s jaw clenched and for a moment he considered refusing, yet ever so slowly sank to his knees. Glorfindel watched, his breath hitching as he looked upon Erestor’s crown, the proud elf bowed before him in total supplication.

Sitting upon the edge of the bed, Glorfindel spread his knees wide, making room for Erestor to settle between them. Cupping a cheek with his hand, Glorfindel raised Erestor’s faced towards him, the dark eyes flicking to blue ones with uncertainty.

“You have never been lovelier than right now,” Glorfindel said with a soft and husky voice.

Erestor made no response, just continued to watch the blonde with trepidation.

“I enjoy your kisses very much, even if they are lacking in enthusiasm. Let’s see how you do by yourself without my tongue to guide you.” Erestor looked up at him, perplexed. “Come, there is another part of my body that desires to be acquainted with your sweet mouth,” Glorfindel smirked at the widening dark eyes.

Erestor tried to pull away but Glorfindel’s hand quickly grasped black hair and yanked him forward again. Erestor winced and levelled his Lord with a look of pure loathing.

The Scribe’s head snapped back sharply as the warrior slapped him.

“Do not *ever* look at me that way again! Understand!?” Glorfindel yelled and jerked Erestor’s head until the Scribe nodded understandingly. Erestor wheeled, almost dazed from the force of Glorfindel’s hand against his cheek, the tender flesh aflame with pain. Glorfindel cupped the hot red cheek gently, Erestor half flinching away, tears threatening to fall from him eyes. “I told you last night this would occur, did I not? There is no need to be so coy now. You would not have come if you did not secretly desire this.”

Erestor lowered his head, shaking it from left to right, tears beginning to fall and his throat closing over. Glorfindel took the demure response to advocate his power over the other, and as his cue to continue. Removing his hands from Erestor, Glorfindel undid the lacings to his leggings and rolled the fabric beneath his erection.

“Come, place your sweet lips over this,” Glorfindel husked, his hands guiding Erestor’s head forwards. The Scribe resisted the pull at first but with a sharp yank on his hair, began moving forwards. “Have you ever done this before, Erestor?” Glorfindel ceased his tugging upon seeing Erestor’s shoulders shaking and his head downcast as though to hide his turmoil. Erestor shook his head which sent a shiver of delight down the blonde’s back.

“Place one hand on my leg to steady yourself. Gently but firmly take hold of my erection in your other hand near the base, then give the head a little kiss.”

Erestor nudged forwards on his knees. His left hand was placed ever so lightly on Glorfindel’s thigh while his other stretched out to touch the Lord’s cock but froze in mid-air except for the uncontrollable shaking of limb and fingers. Glorfindel, despite his impatient nature, remained still, amused and content to watch the play of emotions cross Erestor’s face. Shame, fear, trepidation… All there for his own personal enjoyment.

Erestor knew he should not push his luck, that he should get it over and done with before Glorfindel lost his temper, but he could not help it. This was just too much.

“What if I do it to you first?” Glorfindel offered.

“What? No! I’ll…”

“It can be quite pleasurable. Maybe once you have felt it for yourself you shall not be so hesitant?”

“No,” Erestor whimpered, not wanting to be violated by the elf before him in such a way. Before Glorfindel could say or do anything else, Erestor took hold of his Lord’s erection, a long self-deprecating sigh soon following.

“Excellent…” Glorfindel half groaned, his hips aching to thrust forward, but he kept still for the moment. “Now move your head closer… closer… closer… no, don’t shut your eyes, you should always keep both eyes on your target,” he smirked, his own gaze locked on Erestor’s form. “Now open that mouth of yours… that pretty, pretty mouth and lick the tip.”

Following the instructions, Erestor slowly opened his lips, allowing the tip of his tongue to poke through far enough to gently yet quickly touch the head of Glorfindel’s erection. The Lord softly moaned, the shy touch exciting him more than he had expected. Erestor, however, blanched at first, the feel of the heated flesh on his tongue, and second, the rather vile salty taste that hit his tastebuds, faint though it was. Scrunching up his face, Erestor tried to scrape the weird flavour from his tongue with his teeth but Glorfindel’s laughter halted his efforts.

“I would not bother, there is more to come soon enough. And in time, you shall grow to love, even crave my seed. Now, do that again, only this time place your lips around it too.”

Erestor shuddered but did as he was bid. Opening his lips he held the phallus steady and slowly let it invade his mouth. His jaw was stretched wide, the impossibly big penis barely penetrating him, yet steadily growing harder as Erestor continued his ministrations.

“Lick it,” Glorfindel husked. Erestor closed his eyes and did as he was told. His tongue shivering, it slowly uncoiled from the back of his throat to lap at the erect head. Glorfindel moaned again but Erestor sprang back when the blonde’s penis pulsed and grew even larger within the confines of his hand and mouth.

Glorfindel laughed again. “Sometimes it has a mind of its own! Now, give me your hand.” He reached over to the bed stand and retrieved a bottle of oil. Taking Erestor’s outstretched hand firmly he poured a liberal amount of oil on it. The scribe watched, perturbed as to what Glorfindel was doing and despite his desire to move away, he remained still. Glorfindel eventually released the hand, recapped the bottle and threw it away to the side, uncaring as it smashed on the ground. Erestor’s head however, whipped to the mess oozing over the ground and the sharp pieces of glass now strewn around the door.

“Worry not, by the time we wake the mess shall be gone,” Glorfindel said nonplussed. “But getting back to the matter at- and in- hand… This time when you come in for a taste, slide your hand up and down, the oil shall ease your way. So now you can stimulate the whole thing, not just the tip. Oh, and above all. Do not touch my cock with your teeth,” Glorfindel warned, grunting throughout.

Erestor shuddered but returned his hand to Glorfindel’s erection, sliding it up and down as instructed. Again the erection jumped and thickened within his grasp. His hand jerked to a stop but did not let go. Gulping at the size Glorfindel’s cock had swollen to, Erestor hesitantly opened his mouth as wide as he could and took the head into his mouth, his hand starting to slide again on its own.

Glorfindel moaned almost obscenely, leaning upon one arm placed on the bed behind him, the other entwined in Erestor’s hair, ever so gently stroking the dark mane. Erestor closed his eyes tightly, imagining places he would rather be, cursing the Valar, Glorfindel and his fate. He sucked on the head, the revolting taste again spreading on his tongue and invading his senses. Despite his anguish, Erestor kept up the pace, pausing only to breathe and keep down the dinner that was now trying to force its way up from his stomach. The sound of his lord’s harsh grunts and guttural moans did nothing to help.

Glorfindel held still, allowing Erestor to continue and experiment in his own way, however the shy, experimental touches to his most sensitive organ soon became too much and he started to rock his hips very minutely. Not wanting to scare or choke Erestor, he barely moved, but the need to thrust further was building, slowly but surely. Every now and then, the blonde would lose control and his hips would move of their own accord, his erection charging down Erestor’s throat. The scribe would then cry out in alarm around the large phallus, gag and finally whimper before removing his mouth for a few steadying breaths and then was plunged onto the end of the hard cock by Glorfindel’s strong hands once more.

After a time Erestor decided it wasn’t so bad as far as acts he could be forced into went, there were far worse ones compared to this. Yet after some time his jaw was starting to ache horrendously, not used to being stretched so wide for so long a time.

Easing off the erection, Erestor gave himself time to rest his mouth. Glorfindel indulged the Scribe a moment’s rest, admiring the sight of the other’s deliciously swollen lips. Yet his patience wore out quickly and with the hand embedded within Erestor’s hair, forced the scribe back towards him and onto his cock. Erestor winced at the forcefulness of Glorfindel’s actions but took the phallus back into his mouth, his jaw protesting madly.

Manoeuvring his hand to the back of Erestor’s head, Glorfindel began thrusting again, the actions small at first but quickly growing. Erestor tried to keep up, his hand sliding up and down, hastening its pace, his lips and jaw stretched to near breaking point while his tongue followed the movements of the bobbing penis, trying to maintain contact throughout, though the effort was in vain, only touching when the penis stopped long enough to change direction, and half the time was quickly shoved to the back of his throat again.

Still, for all the mishaps and inexperience, Glorfindel seemed pleased enough with the effort and ministrations, if the groans and moans he was making was anything to go by. But his patience was quickly depleting, while his passion and need for release grew. Uncaring, he began thrusting harder, quicker, sharper, plunging into Erestor’s mouth with his cock.

Erestor’s eyes grew wide at the again hastened pace, and his throat resisted at the depth of which Glorfindel was now thrusting his hard penis. Choking on the large column, Erestor turned pleading eyes to Glorfindel, gurgling noises coming from his mouth.

“Relax your throat,” was all the advice the Lord gave, yet it did nothing to help Erestor. Not knowing how to do what Glorfindel said, the scribe had little choice but to continue as best he could, though the need for air was quickly rising.

The usually pale features had turned red as Erestor struggled to keep up the pace and please Glorfindel, while his oxygen was fast depleting. Becoming slightly panicky Erestor exaggerated his choking sounds though his watering eyes were real enough. Though it was all for nothing since Glorfindel’s head was thrown back, his hips thrusting in abandon.

Growing desperate, Erestor released his hold on Glorfindel’s cock and placed his hands on the blonde’s knees, pushing against them in hopes of releasing the hold on his head. The Lord responded on instinct, not wanting to lose the source of his pleasure, he tightened his hand further, his fingernails digging tightly into the other’s scalp.

Erestor winced at the tighter grip, his mouth tightening around the thick shaft, his teeth inadvertently scraping the erection.

Glorfindel cried out loudly and yanked Erestor away, gasping in pain even though the skin was unbroken. Erestor fell onto the ground, coughing and spluttering for fresh air, his throat aflame. Bringing his hand to his throat, Erestor began massaging the tender flesh, eventually moving to his jaw.

Glorfindel also rubbed at his hurt flesh, cursing, his penis now soft. He recovered first and soon his eyes fell upon the small figure of Erestor, half lying, half sitting on the floor, his new robes spread out around his legs. Growling in anger, Glorfindel did up his leggings and marched the two steps to the still coughing Erestor’s side.

“How dare you!” he growled and grabbed Erestor by the hair, pulling the scribe up off the floor with it.

Glorfindel was merciless, uncaring of Erestor’s pleas and pained cries, only stopping the attack when Erestor was too hurt to defend himself. Thinking his message was clear; he took hold of the back of Erestor’s collar and dragged the scribe through his rooms, dumping the body in the corridor outside.

“Come back tomorrow night. And should you ever, *ever*, use your teeth on me again, I will have you flogged,” he threatened, then sharply went inside his rooms and snapped the door close.

TBC



*Lorien is the Valar of dreams.

Chapter 15

“Quickly! This way! Here he is! Right here! This bed! He is really hurt! Someone punched him up real good, did they not? He looks like he is in a lot of pain, though obviously he is unconscious right now. Which is a good thing for him. I found him. This morning. Right outside your room. Did you hear anything? See anyone suspicious? The amount of commotion to hit someone even once is very big, but this… well, I cannot imagine you slept through it. Who do-”

“Quiet boy! Before I sew your lips shut!” Glorfindel glared.

“But he is hurt!”

“I can see that and your whining voice will not help him and it is giving me a headache. Besides, what business is it of mine? Or yours for that matter?”

“Well, I found him. And it was right outside your door! And your father refused to have anything to do with it and said to get you instead. So, that is how we are involved.”

“Well now that you have brought me here you are no longer needed. Go.”

“I may not be needed but I can still be useful. Besides, I promised him I would be here when he wakes up. How much longer until then, sir?”

It took Clorel a moment to realise he was being addressed, happy being ignored in the shadows.

“Oh, mmmm, should be any minute now. He looks worse than he actually is, but the pain shall still be quite extensive.”

“Will there be any scarring?” Glorfindel asked.

“I do not imagine there will be, but I cannot say for sure either way.”

As if on cue, Erestor began moaning as he groggily left his hazy dreams, ever so slowly pulling his gunky and puffy eyelids apart, barely able to open either. Looking around, he immediately saw Glorfindel feigning interest and the scribe shivered with fear.

“Are you all right?” the young soldier–in-training asked. “Are you cold? Would you like another blanket? Perhaps I should close the curtains? Which would you like, if any?”

Erestor would have smiled at the boy’s eagerness to please, but he lacked the will to do so and ended up shaking his head minutely, indicating that he did not want anything the lad said.

“Who did this to you?” the boy enquired.

“As important as these questions are, I think they can wait for a little while. Erestor, how do you feel?”

“No! I was dragged from my warm bed to be here. I will be damned if I lose another sleepless moment over this incident,” Glorfindel said and glared at everyone.

“Forgive me, my Lord but you do not seem very upset about this.”

“Is there any reason why I should be?”

“He is a member of your court and one of your subjects! If he cannot rely on you to care for his predicament and call for retribution from the guilty parties, then who can he turn to? Come, who did this to you?”

Erestor blinked and swung his eyes to Glorfindel for a moment, receiving a glare for an answer. The scribe recoiled and shook his head minutely.

“No one, really?” Glorfindel scoffed.

“How did this happen?” the boy persisted.

Erestor shook his head again.

“Nothing and no one? Well, case closed then, I am going back to bed.”

“No! Wait! He is just scared. Erestor, please, you are safe here. Just tell us what happened, please.”

Erestor remained silent once more.

“This is a waste of my time. Listen here, lad, elves do not hurt other elves just for the sake of it! I am sure whatever Erestor did to deserve this was warranted. Was it?”

Erestor nodded his head.

“MY LORD! No one deserves to be hurt this badly!”

“Erestor himself just admitted guilt! And since his own foolish actions were the cause of the attack, I expect him at his desk by the start of the day! And afterwards, he is expected in my rooms so we can discuss this further.”

“My Lord!” Clorel protested, “Erestor is in no condition to work. He shall be in extensive pain all day. He will be no use to you at all.”

“Then it is his reckless behaviour that is to be blamed, not I,” Glorfindel said then left the room.

The young soldier and Clorel looked at one another in bewilderment then at Erestor who was doing his best not to cry.

“What is your name, son?” Clorel asked the young boy.

“Nandaer.”

“Nandaer, I want you to take care of Erestor today. Make sure he does not exert himself and is not in too much pain.”

“You mean you are really going to let him work in his condition?”

“Lord Glorfindel demands it and there is no wound that I can use as an excuse to keep him abed. As I said, he looks worse than he actually is.”

“What about my training? I am expected to be there! I can be discharged if I do not attend every session!”

“I will write a note to your commanding officer and explain to him that you are needed elsewhere today.”

“All right… though Lord Glorfindel will not be happy about it. I am already behind in my skills compared to everyone else.”

“Well, there is no need for us to tell him.”

“But he is my trainer!”

“Oh… Oh dear… This does present a problem… Hmmm… What- What if I personally take all the blame? Do not fret, I shall make sure you are not mistreated due to my request. Of course, you are able to decline if you so wish. Although that does mean Erestor will be all alone for the entire day… Completely defenceless should his attackers return…”

“Oh! No! I will stay with him and do my very best to assist in any way I can! I will be very good at it too, Master Erestor.”

Erestor looked at the elf still a few years from his majority and tried to smile, but his cracked and swollen lips protested and he desisted. Nodding his head he began shuffling out of bed.

“Now, you do not have any broken bones, which is a miracle, but there are more than enough bruises and cuts to make up for it. And a few of your bones are going to be very tender for the next few days. Make sure there is no strenuous activity or weight put on them else they will snap like a twig. Just be careful. Nandaer, I am relying on you to make sure he does not get into any mischief.”

“You can count on me!” The boy smiled brightly and saluted the Healer.

“Excellent. Here are twelve sachets of healing tea. They must be taken every half hour with a cup of boiling water. Come back when you need more and I should have plenty made up by then. I shall also make some liquid meals for Erestor and have a maid deliver them to his office. Is all that understood?”

“Yes, thank you!” Nandaer said and looked to Erestor for confirmation, but the Scribe was already shuffling out the door. “Oh, here, let me help you,” the boy called and went to Erestor’s side, holding an arm steady as they left.

Barely able to see through his swollen eyes, Erestor held on tight to Nandaer as he was taken down various corridors. Eventually they came to Erestor’s office and the older elf let out a shaky, thankful sigh as he sat down. However his gratefulness did not last long as his eyes swung to his desk top and five massive piles of papers slowly came into focus. It was more work than anyone, no matter their experience and expertise, could handle in a day!

On top of the closest pile there was a note, from Glorfindel. Erestor picked it up and tried to bring the words into his peripheral vision, but they were all blurred. Handing it to Nandaer, the boy read it out loud.

‘I gave the other Scribes the day off, so you will have to take on their workload. Have it done by the time you come to my rooms.’

“That is not fair!” Nandaer exclaimed, feeling sorry for all the Scribe had to deal with within a single day. “I am starting to think he does not have your best interests at heart.”

Erestor’s lips gave a small twitch but said nothing. Never one to mope, he set his face and determinedly began working, often handing things to Nandaer to read out as he did so.

All day Nandaer flitted about, making tea, fluffing pillows, fetching documents, delivering papers, reading and above all, keeping all potential threats away. Maids brought soup made up of various thickened liquids, all of which were healthy, delicious and very filling for Erestor to eat.

By the day’s end Erestor had completed all but one pile of work. Sitting back with a look of accomplishment on his already healing face, his eyes swung to Nandaer who looked nothing short of amazed.

“Shall we go see Clorel for dinner?” Nandaer offered.

Erestor sadly shook his head. “Lerd Glirfifel wunted to see ne.”

“Allow me to escort you,” Nandaer said, already moving towards the door.

Erestor nodded his head in thanks and moved past him into the corridor. They walked on in silence, many questioning and disgusted looks sent Erestor’s way but he held his head up high and kept walking. Upon reaching Glorfindel’s quarters, Nandaer knocked and they waited for the door to open.

Secar swung the door in on its hinges, took one look at Erestor and smirked.

“My Lord has no time for tragic cases. Come back… oh… never!” And with that he began closing the door but Glorfindel’s voice halted his actions.

“Who is it?”

“Some ghastly thing that, were I to guess, could only be assumed to be Erestor. And with it, his trainer.”

“What!?” Glorfindel jumped up and ran to the door, pushing Secar out of the way and yanking Erestor inside, slamming the door closed immediately. Nandaer looked stunned for a moment then began knocking on the heavy wood, ordering them to open up.

“Secar, dinner!” Glorfindel ordered and watched as the servant exited the room. Rounding on Erestor, Glorfindel looked livid. “What is the meaning of this? How dare you come here looking so grotesque! Did anyone see you?”

Erestor looked stunned and confused.

“Yew toald ne to kum,” he said simply.

“I did not mean it! It was for the benefit of Clorel! Now get out of here before you put me off my dinner!”

Erestor’s jaw clenched in anger.

“It iz vecaus ov you I look like dis!”

Glorfindel took a moment to let his rage build. Erestor, upon watching a few rain clouds grow into a storm, turned and tried to flee the room. Grasping the doorhandle he turned it and began opening the door but Glorfindel’s hand on the wood next to his head slammed it shut. Grasping the Scribe around the middle, Glorfindel then used his body to push Erestor against the door.

“Your body is mine to do with as I please. If you do not like it… sail. Come back once you have healed.” Then he released Erestor.

Erestor opened the door and escaped through it, not looking at Glorfindel once. Which was a pity, for if he had, he would have seen a strange smile tugging at the blonde’s lips.

TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: G-PG
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Nothing really… He, who’d have thought it? :p
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)




Chapter 16

The next morning found Erestor healed except for a very tender rib on his left side. From his cupboard he chose one of the green robes as it did not constrict his chest as much as the others did.

Deciding to skip breakfast and start the day early, Erestor hoped to complete the previous day’s work before Glorfindel found out. Seeing no one on his way to his office left the scribe with a spring in his step and a confident feeling inside.

His hopes were dashed, however, upon opening his door and seeing Glorfindel rummaging through the papers on his desk.

“I thought I told you to have these finished yesterday,” the Lord growled dangerously.

“I know, but I was so exhausted… I did not sleep well the night before, obviously, and I was in a lot of pain yesterday which tired me out more so… I am sorry. I did do the majority of it though, and I was coming here now, without the morning meal, to complete them,” Erestor prayed his excuses would calm Glorfindel and make him take pity on the scribe.

“Tell me something, oh smart one, is today yesterday?”

“No, my Lord, it is not.”

“Is almost finished the same as completed?”

“No.”

“Is there any reason why I should not punish you now?”

Erestor remained silent, his eyes downcast and shook his head.

“In fact, what have you done these past two years to please me?”

Erestor remained silent as he racked his brain, trying to think of something. Just as he started shaking his head dejectedly, Erestor snapped his head up and stated proudly “I have found several books for you!”

“…Books? Anything else?”

“Well, aaahh, also… there was… ummm,” Erestor’s eyes sank low again and his shoulders slumped.

“That is what I thought. Come to my rooms as soon as you have finished here.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Before leaving, Glorfindel hesitated by Erestor’s dispirited form for a moment. Lifting a hand, he brushed the back of his fingers against Erestor’s cheek. The scribe couldn’t help turning his head on instinct, seeking to break the touch.

Glorfindel allowed it and lowered his hand slowly. A few seconds later he left.

~*~

Erestor arrived at Glorfindel’s door an hour later and knocked upon it. Secar opened it, looked at Erestor for a moment, his cold eyes roaming the scribe’s bruise-free face and frowned.

“My Lord is waiting for you in his rooms. He wants you to have this,” Secar held out a piece of folded parchment.

“Oh, … Right,” Erestor was surprised by the note but took it nonetheless. Following prior orders, Secar then left the chambers, pushing Erestor aside as he walked out. Erestor doubled over and began coughing, tenderly clutching his rib where Secar had aggravated it. Stumbling into the quarters, Erestor closed the door behind him while he struggled to get his breathing under control. After a few more minutes of wheezing, Erestor began walking to Glorfindel’s bedroom door. He knocked gently and opened the door, poking his head in before permission was granted. The sight that greeted him filled the scribe with dread. Glorfindel was naked but for a skimpy gold and black spotted loin cloth.

“My Lord?” Erestor greeted timidly.

“Erestor!” Glorfindel near shouted, shocked. “What are you doing?”

“You asked me to come…”

“Yes. Did Secar not give you my note?”

“Oh, yes, he did,” Erestor responded, looking at the parchment still in his hand, having forgotten about it during his coughing fit.

“Did you read it?”

“Oh, no…”

Glorfindel sighed in frustration. “Go back to the main room and come back once you have read it and are ready to follow its instructions.”

“All right. Sorry.” Erestor closed the door again and unfolded the note. Scanning the words, his stomach fell. Looking to the couch, he saw the garments Glorfindel referred to and he shuddered at the thought of carrying this through…

TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated everyone who’s still here.
Rated: R/NC-17
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Rough-play and attempted rape.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)




Chapter 17

*Knock knock knock*

“Enter.”

Erestor reached up and pulled on the handle, opening the door and allowed it to swing open, quickly taking his previous position again before Glorfindel came into view.

Glorfindel lay back on the bed, surrounded by plush pillows, his body still gloriously naked except for the small material barely covering his private parts. His eyes were peacefully closed, though not in rest. He opened one and looked Erestor over with a critical gaze. The younger Elf was gorgeous. Erestor sat on his legs, his chest was upright and arms straight, placed on the ground before him for balance. The black skin-tight garment he was wearing glimmered blue where the light touched it. His hair was unbound around his face, hiding his ears from sight, but was pulled into a loose plait just below his shoulders. And two small triangles poked up through his hair.

Glorfindel closed his eye again, pleased with all he saw except Erestor’s lowered face.

Erestor took a long breath before starting. Crawling forward, he let out a roar that sounded more like a hungry kitten’s meow. Glorfindel did not stir apart from a frown settling across his forehead. Erestor dared a glance to Glorfindel and huffed as the warrior lay there unmoved. The Scribe’s face blazed red with this new humiliation he was forced to endure. Moving further into the room, dragging his tail behind him, Erestor ‘patrolled’ the end of the bed, growling lowly as his animal instincts caught the scent of another beast.

Glorfindel continued lying there.

Pacing the bed, he continued making soft sounds, wondering why the warrior was not reacting to his noises, despite him doing exactly as the note said.

After ten minutes his knees were getting sore and his patience was wearing out. Hoping Glorfindel would not get mad, Erestor raised his top half to lean onto the bed, roared louder than any other time and gave an arm a playful nudge with his head.

Glorfindel was up in seconds and stared Erestor down with a dangerous glint in his eye, answering the darker Elf’s roar with an impressive one of his own.

Erestor sat back on his legs and scuttled away from the bed, head down and waited.

“Erestor what are you doing?” Glorfindel asked resignedly.

“Oh, well, ummm… I’m submitting,” Erestor hated how hot his face now felt.

“Erestor,” Glorfindel sighed. “You are a panther. Do you think panthers submit? I *want* you to put up a fight. Feel the animalistic nature I know is under your cold exterior somewhere. Come, start again.” Glorfindel lay back again and waited.

Erestor shuddered and grudgingly began moving again. Striding around the bed he growled several times over, each time stirring the sleeping leopard a little more. After some time, he again leaned up on the bed and roared, to which Glorfindel answered enthusiastically, on his knees in no time. Baring his teeth he snarled at his enemy, prepared to fight at the first sign of movement.

Erestor backed down off the bed, but growled again, showing he would not stand down. Glorfindel advanced to the edge of the bed and lowered the top half of his body while he leaned his head out towards Erestor further.

Erestor huffed and moved backwards a step, and in a surprise move, did a circle and a half on the floor then began walking around the bed again, hoping to advance from the rear. Glorfindel’s eyes followed him critically, and following the panther’s moves, walked to the other side of the furniture, hissing and snarling occasionally. Erestor answered the leopard’s vocal in kind, but less vehemently, feeling stupid. This was no way for a dignified Scribe of Gondolin, or Lord, to spend their afternoon.

Erestor prowled around the bed several times, looking for an opening onto the bed, but Glorfindel never ceased patrolling his territory. Wanting to make a move before his Lord grew impatient, Erestor grew desperate and just as it appeared he was turn around the stalk the bed again, he leapt the unaware leopard and made a swipe with his ‘claw’, roaring as he did so. Glorfindel jumped back out of shock, but a smile spread across his features at Erestor’s daring. Schooling his features, Glorfindel pounced off the bed growl and charged at Erestor.

Eyes wide, Erestor quickly backed up quickly and growled lowly. Spreading his arms and legs, he crouched down as low as possible, readying himself for a fight. Glorfindel roared once ascertaining his opponent was thoroughly intimidated then backed off towards the bed, only turning around to jump back onto it.

Erestor sat near the wall for a few moments then tentatively started forwards again. The leopard growled with each step the panther took. The Scribe started circling the bed again, but occasionally tried to move in close, hoping to draw Glorfindel away from his territory. But the leopard stayed upon his throne and answered each threat with a roar and swipe of his own. As of yet, neither had made any contact, and Erestor could see Glorfindel’s patience was beginning to waver.

Erestor turned at the wall and began his march around the bed once more, but as he approached the foot, he was momentarily out of sight for a moment as he turned the corner and the post was between him and Glorfindel. Upon reaching the blind spot, he came in closer than usual and quickly turned around while the leopard could not see him then jumped onto the bed behind the warrior before he realised what was happening.

Feeling the bed dip, Glorfindel spun around and was quite impressed at the Scribe’s cunning. However he quickly reacted to his territory being invaded and swiped at his opponent. This time, his hand connected with Erestor’s cheek with a loud slap. Erestor yelped as he was thrown into the centre of the bed from the force of the blow. He lay there, dazed as the leopard pounced on him and covered his body with its own.

Glorfindel purred as he rubbed his head against Erestor’s and his body started sliding against the younger Elf’s. Erestor whimpered as an ear was uncovered from beneath his hair and then sucked into a warm, wet mouth, teeth grazing the tip every now and then. Glorfindel’s hands raked the slim body, feeling every curve Erestor had beneath the thin, skin-tight material. Arousal flared in his nether region soon after and his slow, meticulous movements now became harsh and less controlled. Pushing the tail out of the way, Glorfindel aligned his cock along the cleft of Erestor’s backside and began thrusting his hips, moaning obscenely.

After less than a minute he stilled and looked down at the exotic panther beneath him.

“Erestor, what are you doing?”

“You have subdued me so I am remaining still, hoping you think I am dead so you might walk away and I may live to see another day. I have seen animals do it before.”

“Yes, and while I congratulate you for knowing your character so well, your strategy will not work in this case. Now come, fight me. Or at least struggle to show you do not want or like what I am doing to you. Unless… you *DO* like it, hmmm?”

Erestor frowned at his Lords’ implication and started moving about as much as he could. “No, please! You’re hurting me! Let me go! I do not want this!” He cried out.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. “Have you ever met a panther that can talk?”

“Have you ever seen a leopard and a panther mate? Both male?” Erestor retorted.

“Hey! This is my fantasy, next time we’ll do yours,” Glorfindel smirked. “Now come, growl, hiss, snap, bite, claw, anything you can to try and dislodge me.”

It was Erestor’s time to roll his eyes as Glorfindel got back into position and began his affections anew. The panther growled and turned his head, his mouth open, trying to bite his attacker. Glorfindel was ready for it, however, and latched his own teeth onto Erestor’s jaw, biting the skin hard enough to not be dislodged, but not so firm as to break the skin. Erestor mewled in pain and struggled all the more to get away. He thrashed with his body, clawed with his hands and kicked with his feet, but nothing could deter Glorfindel from his task.

Releasing Erestor’s jaw, Glorfindel firmly took hold of the tail again and yanked it from the costume completely. Hearing the material rip Erestor stilled for a moment, wondering what Glorfindel was up to now. Putting the tail on the mattress beside them, his hand wandered to Erestor’s backside and slipped inside the material in the hole created from the torn-off tail. The Scribe’s eyes widened and he began his struggles anew, this time in earnest. He bucked and pulled at the coverlet and hit and screamed, but Glorfindel’s body had him pinned while one hand explored his arse, pinching and squeezing the tender flesh, the other hand stroked Erestor’s chest and stomach.

Erestor thrashed harshly, trying to get away, but Glorfindel was too strong and too heavy. So it surprised the Scribe when the weight upon him suddenly lifted. Not wasting a moment he shot up and scrambled away.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Glorfindel teased and jumped back onto the Scribe. Having retrieved the oil from his nightstand, Glorfindel sat on the back of Erestor’s thighs and enjoyed the sight of the pert, delectable butt barely visible through the small hole on the black garment. Placing the vial on the bed, he put four fingers through hole and tore at the material until it hid nothing of Erestor’s backside from view.

Erestor kicked his legs up, barely touching Glorfindel’s bottom, and his arms hit backwards, only able to slap occasionally at the leopard’s front legs. All in all, things were very bleak for Erestor indeed and while his attempt of a fight was in no way threatening, Glorfindel was tiring of the Scribe’s insistence. Grabbing the arms that struck out at him, Glorfindel straightened them and lay them flat on the bed, directly on either side of Erestor’s body. Once in position he then lifted his knees and put them on the younger Elf’s hands, holding them in place.

“NO! Wait! Please Glorfindel!” Erestor screamed, hating how helpless he and his situation was.

“You dare address me so casually?” Glorfindel hissed into Erestor’s ear, leaning over the slender body.

“Please my Lord, just… slow down…”

“Erestor… you are not being very panther-like.”

Erestor’s eyes closed and his lips dragged downwards at the corners, wibbling in the middle. He put his face into the covers to hide his shame as he began weeping, but he could not hide his shoulders shaking with each hiccup, nor the way his body shook with each tear that escaped into the blankets.

“Awww, Erestor, there is no need to be like that. Now hush. You are lucky you have lasted this long with your virginity in tact. You should be grateful I am here to distract and take down the many admirers you have. You should thank me for the many sacrifices I have made all for your benefit.”

Erestor frowned and turned his head to catch a glimpse of Glorfindel’s face, eager to see a glimmer of truth of the Blonde’s words portrayed on his face. Although their eyes met, the Lord’s face held nothing to neither confirm nor deny his statement. After about a minute of just staring at one another, Glorfindel leaned down and gave Erestor an awkward kiss, his lips half on the bed rather on Erestor. The panther tore his head away and began thrashing around again, growling as he went.

Glorfindel grinned and released his own terrifying roar, claiming his role of dominator. His hands slid down Erestor’s back and spread to the sides to come to rest on either side of the Scribe’s hips. Slowly stroked over the area and eventually moved onto Erestor’s hind, squeezing the soft globes of flesh. Glorfindel parted the mounds to reveal the tight puckered opening he had first encountered two years ago. Smiling, he scooted back a little and lowered his face into the crevice.

He sniffed at the tiny opening and his lips raised in the corners.

“Ahhh, I swear, you smell as good as any rose,” Glorfindel complimented and then poked out his moist tongue to taste Erestor’s secret tunnel of pleasure. He moaned loudly at the flavour that blossomed across his tongue. Erestor whimpered and continued struggling. Somehow, one of his arms broke free and he reached back, pushing at Glorfindel’s head with it. The Warrior grabbed the slender wrist and twisted the appendage painfully over Erestor’s back.

The Scribe twisted and whimpered as the slick muscle continued exploring his arsehole, breaching the entrance with just the tip every so often. Face firmly placed between Erestor’s cheeks, Glorfindel released the buttock he still held and wriggled it around Erestor to stroke the Scribe’s dormant cock. To his great displeasure, Erestor moaned at the dual assault, though thankfully he did not grow hard, despite the Lord’s ministrations. Glorfindel licked the virgin hole until it stopped quivering at the lightest of touches and the entrance was slick from saliva.

Releasing Erestor’s arm and soft penis, he sat up and picked up the previously discarded bottle of oil and popped the cork. Erestor began thrashing on the bed beneath the leopard as the fragrant scent reached his nose. Glorfindel let the panther writhe beneath him, his weight easily keeping the younger Elf in place, and dipped two fingers into the cool liquid the bottle contained. Pulling them out again, he awkwardly re-capped the vial and set it aside. With his clean hand, Glorfindel moved aside one arse cheek and lowered his other hand to the now viewable puckered flesh within.

Ever so slowly Glorfindel, lowered his fingers to Erestor’s entrance and circled the doorway to pure bliss several times over before he dipped one digit inside. Erestor cried out, his free arm reaching back and grabbing onto Glorfindel’s wrist in a desperate bid to still the Lords’ actions. Glorfindel smirked at the futile attempt and continued pressing his finger inside Erestor.

Erestor moaned in pain as he was breached and pressed his face deep within the blankets, almost suffocating himself. His hand became slick with perspiration and slid up Glorfindel’s forearm as he tried to pull the fingers from him. Amazingly, Glorfindel did as Erestor silently wished and pulled his finger from the tight channel and then without warning thrust it all the way in again. Erestor’s back arched and he cried out in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“No! Stop it! Please… it hurts… I can’t. Stop…” Erestor screamed as Glorfindel’s finger plunged him over and over again.

“Oh my, Erestor, you are so tight! I have no idea how I am to fit another finger in, let alone my cock. Still, I am sure we will manage,” Glorfindel both praised and teased, his voice rough and thick with arousal. Erestor’s legs kicked at the sheets, his head shook violently from left to right while his hand gripped Glorfindel’s arm all the more and the slight shoulders shook with tears and hiccups. Glorfindel stared down at his captive in delight and crooked his finger deep within Erestor.

Erestor cried out in surprise and passion, electricity exploding throughout his body.

“Feels good, does it not?” Glorfindel purred, and leaned down to kiss a covered shoulder. “Just wait until it is my thick cock pounding your tight arse, I know I can barely control my patience, and from the sweet sounds you are making, I am willing to guess that you feel exactly the same,” Glorfindel husked into Erestor’s ear and licked the tip, his finger constantly rubbing over the younger Elf’s prostate, moans falling freely from the Scribe’s lips.

Pulling his finger out completely this time, Erestor fell to the bed in exhaustion, sobs raking his shoulders as shame over his traitorous body assaulted him. He was pulled from his musings, however, when Glorfindel roughly thrust two fingers within the slick velvet heat. Erestor’s back arched back so far it looked like he would snap, he hollered as he was invaded and his muscles clenched tight around the fingers inside him.

“Shhh, relax…” Glorfindel said soothingly, but he could not be heard as Erestor’s screams and shouts continued. Guards standing outside under the Lords’ window tapped their spears on the window.

“Is everything in order, my Lord?” they asked, used to hearing such sounds coming from Glorfindel’s rooms, yet they needed to ask every time, just in case. Glorfindel pulled his fingers free and went to the window, Erestor falling silent immediately. Pushing the glass outwards on its hinges, he looked down and smiled.

“Everything is perfect up here, you are more than welcome to come up and watch, if you like,” he offered.

The guards laughed. “Thankyou my Lord, we shall keep that in mind. Enjoy yourself."

“Oh believe me, I will,” he smiled again and then closed the window and turned back to the bed. His smile widened as he saw that Erestor had remained upon the bed and had not tried to flee, as many others had done over the years. With a skip in his step, Glorfindel returned to his original position. “Good boy,” he praised into Erestor’s ear and leaned back to resume where he left off. Parting the cheeks again, he stilled as a thick, sticky substance was pooling at the entrance to Erestor’s body and was starting to run down the insides of his thighs. Looking to his fingers he saw for the first time the blood covering those as well.

“Erestor? Are you feeling all right?” he asked, mildly concerned for the other’s well-being. When no answer was forthcoming, he leaned over and looked into Erestor’s face. His pale features were flushed and pain was etched into the usually peaceful face. What disturbed Glorfindel the most though, was that the Scribe’s eyes were closed and he appeared to be fast asleep as though he were a human. Frowning, Glorfindel got off the panther and rolled Erestor’s body onto his back. The Scribe remained unmoving and unconscious.

Leaving the bed, the Lord picked up a glass and filled it with cool water. Returning to the bed he splashed it over Erestor’s face, the younger Elf coming to immediately.

“Wake up, I would hate for you to miss this,” Glorfindel croaked. The first thing Erestor registered was the pain emanating from his backside and he cried out loud. Eager to resume the proceedings, Glorfindel crawled onto the bed and easily flipped the Scribe over again, straddling the slim hips once more. Erestor continued sobbing and screamed in pain as he was penetrated by fingers again. His hands flew to his backside, trying to cover himself and remove Glorfindel’s digits.

Glorfindel allowed the desperate scrabbling, a thrill shivering down his spine at Erestor’s expense.

“No… stop!” Erestor cried into the mattress, not expecting his Lord to listen, but hoping… “Please…”

“Shhh… let me pleasure you,” Glorfindel cooed.

“YOU’RE HURTING ME!” Erestor screamed.

Glorfindel’s fingers stilled, but remained buried deep within Erestor’s arse.

“Granted you are tight, but once I have opened you up, it will be nothing like you have ever felt.”

“*THIS* is like nothing I have ever felt save for that night 2 years ago! Please… stop. I will do anything!” He sniffed. “Please…”

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Glorfindel carefully removed his fingers and walked to the bathroom. Returning with a new vial Erestor shivered in fear, but Glorfindel, very gently, applied the soothing balm to Erestor, cooling the inflamed and sore area. Putting the jar aside, Glorfindel moved to sit against the pillows resting against the headboard. Leaning forward he grabbed Erestor’s upper arms and pulled the panther to him, manipulating the smaller Elf to cuddle up to him. Erestor lay half on top of his Lord, strong golden arms encircling his waist and shoulders, stroking his body in an attempt to soothe the frightened kitten.

What surprised Glorfindel, however, was his affections being returned as Erestor snuggled closer, put his arms around the leopard’s shoulders and hid his face in the crook of the warrior’s neck.

“Thankyou,” Erestor uttered, very appreciative of Glorfindel’s generosity.

Glorfindel remained quiet, simply holding the panther tight, feeling the petite body go heavy once Erestor fell asleep.


TBC

Chapter 18

“Wha-?” Erestor woke from his hazy dreams as pressure was registered coming from his already abused anus. His hand swooped around to his backside to feel for the obtrusive object, but it was easily caught and forced to rest on his hip. In that moment, Erestor woke completely and tried rolling over and away from his assailant yet strong arms kept him firmly in place.

“Glorfindel?” Erestor whimpered as his tight ring was breached by something the size of Glorfindel’s finger.

“Shhh… it’s in,” the Lord gently said back and stroked Erestor’s back and sides in reassurance. Erestor shifted his position and whimpered as whatever was in side him changed direction also. His arm now free he felt for what was protruding him. Nestled between his buttocks was some kind of flat hard object, but it was not metal nor wood. “Leave it!” Glorfindel ordered and whacked Erestor’s butt cheek in annoyance.

Erestor shouted out loud as the object was momentarily forced in further. His breathing became hard and he snuggled into Glorfindel while his body tried to control itself again.

“What is it?” he asked, almost fearfully.

“It has no name… yet. It is an object made from glass, very solid and not easily broken glass,” he reassured, “in the shape of a penis, only smaller. It shall stay within you for the next week, and then I shall put the next size up inside you for seven days after that. And so it shall go on until you are stretched wide enough to accommodate me without as much pain, but hopefully still have the feel of the innocent virgin we both know you to be.” Glorfindel smiled down at Erestor, proud at his implied patience.

Erestor was grateful for Glorfindel’s caring, knowing it was inevitable that one day he would be taken but deep down, wished it would not be so.

“And where did you find such objects?” he ground out between tightly clenched teeth.

“The Harem, along with its beautiful workers, also have a large array of toys. And while they generously lend such pleasurable devices to their loyal customers, I-”

Erestor eyes widened and his gaze shot to Glorfindel’s. “Do you mean to say that this… this- *thing* has been inside countless others before me?” As he spoke, Erestor’s arms struggled to remove the object, but Glorfindel’s strong hold on his wrists stopped all movement.

“As much as I would wish to affirm that statement, it would be a lie. To see such pure, untainted beauty,” he transferred Erestor’s arms to one grip and with his free hand held Erestor’s chin, “forced to endure the humiliation of being stretched by the same implements countless whores for the Lords and Ladies of the court had had buried deep within them for a time, bringing them pleasure and pain so they may better serve their masters. Yes… I would have liked putting you through such torture.” Erestor’s eyes filled with tears and he sought to escape Glorfindel’s grip, but his Lord kept him firmly in place. “However, the thought of another’s scent upon you, however faint and elusive a place it might be hiding, stayed me. And I had Secar acquire new ones from the Dwarves during the night.”

Erestor nodded his head as much as he could and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You do realise, however, that Secar does not like me and out of spite may have taken ones from the Harem anyway?”

“Perhaps, but he is loyal to me and my commands, no matter his personal interests or feelings. That, and I said that while I am waiting for you to grow I will be using his body, which made him very happy to hear. Besides, going straight to the merchant gave Secar wonderful insight to all their wares. A great many he has described and now I look forward to trying out on you, once they are within my possession. In the meantime, he brought back a few for me to sample. One, in particular,” Glorfindel rolled Erestor onto his back and leaned over, picking something up, off the dresser, “right now.” He held the object aloft, in Erestor’s line of vision. The dark haired elf frowned in question. “It would be easier to show rather than describe to you how it works,” he brought it down but Erestor gently pushed his hands away.

“Try anyway, please.”

“Well, the other night, when you were sucking my cock,” he emphasised the harsh ‘k’ sound, “the unfortunate incident of you biting me has left me rather disappointed. Your mouth, lips and tongue are so juicy and gorgeous that I loved the look and feel of me plundering the back of your throat. But knowing what happened last time, I cannot think of anything I would rather you *not* do. However, with the help of my little friend here, such problems shall be a thing of the past. All I need to do is slip this part,” Glorfindel pointed to a large circular shape in the middle of the thing, “over your teeth, then the straps are tied together at the back of your head. Then I am free to manoeuvre myself within the circle and into your mouth without worrying about a repeat occurrence. So, shall we test it out then?”

“I would rather not. Today is my day off and my father should be expecting me anytime now. If you will excuse me,” Erestor moved to get up but Glorfindel did not release him.

“Yesterday was Sunday,” the golden lord stated.

“Yes, it was, Erestor said as though he was talking to a dim-witted child.

“Sunday is your day off.”

“Not any more. Since there are seven scribes in your father’s service, we each have a different day of the week away from work. Mine is Monday. Now, if I may have your leave?”

“No, you may not. Day off or not, I demand you spend it within my chambers. Besides which, the sun is still sometime away from rising. Should you leave now, you would only stir your father from his slumber, while I am already up and most eager to share this time with you.

“Then, may I go once the sun makes its appearance?” Erestor asked hopefully.

“I could have sworn I just ordered you to stay here all day,” Glorfindel ground out, frustration entering his tone.

“You did, but I have not seen my father in a week! Please, I miss him! And he is expecting me. Should I not visit, he will come looking for me! And your rooms shall be the first place he will seek me and I do not think you want to give him another reason to hate you. Please, I will do anything you want of me now, just let me go to him?” Erestor begged.

“You will indeed do everything I say now and until you leave after dinner,” Glorfindel reaffirmed.

Erestor looked heartbroken, and seemed like he would burst into tears at any moment.

“I… I will do anything you ask immediately and without hesitation,” Erestor tried one last time.

Glorfindel seemed ready to dismiss this negotiation, but stayed his answer long enough to give Erestor some hope once more.

“Straight away, without thinking and a smile upon your face?”

“Absolutely,” Erestor responded just as Glorfindel finished speaking, the scribe’s lips curling at the corners, *very* eager to visit his father.

“Then kiss me as I would kiss you,” Glorfindel tested him.

“Then, should I not be on top?” Erestor teased?

“Improvise,” Glorfindel warned, growing impatient.

Erestor stilled at the tone of voice and slowly reached his hands up, cupping Glorfindel’s cheeks. Half pulling the lord down and half leaning up, Erestor guided their mouths to meet and after a quick brush of their lips, the scribe pressed hard against the other and wormed his tongue from his mouth to lick Glorfindel’s soft lips, seeking entrance. The lord, however, stayed immobile and waited for Erestor to seize control. Erestor frowned into the kiss and tried again, but still the lord did not let him enter.

“Is something amiss?” Erestor asked, breaking the kiss.

“Yes, there is,” Glorfindel replied, his words clipped.

“What is it?”

“You are not doing as I said.”

“I am kissing you,” Erestor said defensively.

“As I would kiss you, hmm? Since when have I ever been so considerate with my kisses? Try again.”

Erestor swallowed hard and reached a hand up to grip the back of Glorfindel’s head and quickly pulled him down for a fervoured kiss. Erestor thrust his tongue beyond the lord’s guarded lips and began lapping at teeth, tongue, roof and anything else it could touch. He roughly pulled Glorfindel closer and let his hand firmly roam down the Blonde’s broad back and grasped a naked butt cheek.

Glorfindel moaned loudly and thrust his hips into Erestor’s. The scribe’s bottom was then crushed further into the mattress, sending the phallus deeper within him. He gasped as it lurched inside him and bucked up into Glorfindel in retaliation. The lord smirked at Erestor’s reactions and repeated his actions, but stayed snugly pressed into Erestor, humping his groin in small circular movements rather and backwards and forwards, keeping the Scribe’s hips pinned between him and the bed. The sensations were too much for the inexperienced Erestor and he easily gave into them, all pretence of his ‘domination’ in the bedroom gone. Glorfindel deftly took over the kiss and began ravaging the hot wet recesses of Erestor’s mouth. The scribe’s hands fell limply to the bed as he was rocked and buffeted between the two strong and opposing forces keeping him firmly in place.

Glorfindel suddenly stopped and leaned back far enough to slap Erestor across the cheek. Hard. The scribe’s head rolled across the pillow and halfway back again, his watery eyes fearfully meeting Glorfindel’s.

“You are staying here for the entire day,” he hissed and left the bed for a moment, retrieving a silk scarf before returning to Erestor.

“But… my father…” Erestor croaked, not trusting his voice to say anything else due to his physical and emotion turmoil. He let his eyes do the begging instead.

“You offered the circumstances in which I would let you leave should you meet the requirements. It is not my fault you could not even give me a simple kiss.”

“But, you are so much stronger than I. Any small movement on your part and I am at your mercy,” Erestor tried to reason.

“It matters not. You were unable to fulfil your promise. So you must be punished,” Glorfindel dismissed easily, and grasped one of Erestor’s ankles, tying it to the end of the bed.

“Wait, no. Please… give me another chance? Just one? Please?”

Glorfindel slapped Erestor again.

“You beg so prettily… pity you are begging to leave my side, else I would be tempted to give you anything you wanted,” Glorfindel softly stroked Erestor’s flaming cheek with the back of a finger as he spoke. He then left the bedroom and went to the main room. Through the open door Erestor could hear Glorfindel talking, presumably to Secar, about breakfast. Scrambling to the end of the bed Erestor began trying to undo the scarf keeping him in place, but the knot used was no common one and the scribe could not make heads nor tails of it and only ended up tightening it more. Fearful the blood to his foot would soon be cut off altogether, he gave up. On the table beside the bed was a pair of scissors, but just from looking at the fine material, Erestor knew he would need to work for several more weeks before being able to afford a replacement.

Glorfindel returned soon after, a tray in his hands. Placing it on their dinner table, he picked up a few mango pieces and ate them. Next he started with the apple slices, their firm texture crunching in his mouth. Picking up a glass of orange juice he drank the contents then put the glass down again.

Turning around he almost jumped, seeing Erestor watching him intently. “Oh, sorry, are you hungry?” he asked, his hand reaching into the bowl of grapes.

Erestor looked at him dubiously but hesitantly answered “I am a little peckish.”

“Do you trust me to choose your morning meal?” Glorfindel asked, popping a grape into his mouth, soon followed by another. Erestor frowned and looked at the tray. All foods were ones he liked, so he minded not which ones Glorfindel decided upon.

“Yes,” he eventually answered.

“And you will eat it all without wasting even the tiniest portion?”

“Of course not. Wasting food is not something I am accustomed to.”

“Good,” Glorfindel stated simply and left the table and food alone. Walking to the side of the bed he picked up the odd instrument he had shown Erestor earlier and made a display of stretching the band wide and slowly bringing it towards the scribe. Erestor shuffled closer to the end of the bed, millimetres away from falling off entirely. The dildo inside him shifted and he gasped at the new angle. Seeking to change position again, he was easily caught off-guard by Glorfindel whom pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his hips.

“What about breakfast, my lord?” Erestor whined, his hands grasping at Glorfindel’s wrists.

“Oh-oh ho Erestor,” Glorfindel chuckled, “this *is* your breakfast.” Erestor eyes went wide and he struggled even more so at his lord’s arms, turning and twisting his head and body, trying to escape the horrible implement that would leave his mouth and throat at Glorfindel’s mercy.

Glorfindel allowed the resistance, the fight making victory all the more sweeter when he hooked the top of the mouth piece over Erestor’s teeth. Moving a hand to the scribe’s jaw, he pressed into the skin, forcing the sweet lips apart so that he could gain access to the useful orifice. Erestor’s mouth opened wide, but not so much so that the ring could fit over his bottom teeth. Manoeuvring his hand, Glorfindel grasped the small chin and pulled on it harshly, seemingly trying to rip Erestor’s jaw clean off. The scribe moaned in pain as his head was twisted and his face pulled to breaking point. He squealed as the ring was banged against his bottom teeth, Glorfindel using all his strength to force the blasted thing in, whether or not Erestor’s bones would permit it.

Erestor struggled with Glorfindel, turning his head away, pushing with his arms, clawing with his fingers, but the lord’s power was no match for his own. Putting up a fight did not help, nor did screaming, or crying, it seemed. But last night begging had. In a rare show of mercy, Glorfindel had stopped after seeing how much damage he had done to Erestor. So, against his better judgement, Erestor went limp. If a split lip or a broken jaw was what it took for Glorfindel to be gentler next time, then so be it.

Glorfindel felt the arms pushing at him fall away and the moans of pain cease. So shocked at the sudden reversal of actions that the mouth guard almost slipped out of place. Erestor lay back on the bed, wheezing from physical exertion through his strained oesophagus, his eyes filled with pain and silently begging for the blonde to stop.

For a moment Glorfindel stilled and looked at Erestor, his features slowly softening. Sighing harshly, Glorfindel removed the strange object altogether and rolled off the scribe.

“Clearly this one is too big,” he stated irritably, lifting himself from the bed and went back to the table. Picking up an empty plate he placed a little of each of the fruits on it before returning to the bed. “Here,” he handed the plate over.

“Thankyou very much, my lord,” Erestor said gratefully, in a pleasing tone, hoping to ease Glorfindel whichever way he could.

Erestor ate in peace while Glorfindel lounged on the bed half a metre away from him, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. They stayed in silence for several minutes, the only sounds coming from Erestor when biting into a carrot or piece of celery. Glorfindel remained still, just lying there, looking up at the ceiling, happily so, it seemed. Erestor kept throwing him furtive glances, wondering what the lord was thinking of, or planning next for him.

Clearing his throat, he tentatively asked if Glorfindel would care for some fruit. The lord merely waved his hand in clear refusal.

“But this rockmelon is so juicy, firm and succulent. Here,” Erestor edged his way over, lying on his side, and hand fed a small piece to Glorfindel, his finger ghosting over the lords’ lips. “Is it not divine?”

Glorfindel ate the fruit as he was bid and looked up at Erestor who lingered above him.

“Mmmm, it is quite good. Though I have had better,” he stated.

“Would you like some more?” Erestor offered.

“A grape.”

Erestor picked up a small green orb and brought it to Glorfindel’s lips, but the lord kept his mouth firmly shut. Erestor frowned and raised his eyebrow at Glorfindel, bringing the grape back to the plate.

“Feed it to me.”

Erestor continued to frown, since that was what he attempted to do. However inspiration soon hit and he placed a grape between his teeth and descended upon Glorfindel. His bound leg stretching to full capacity as he moved a little closer to the lord’s position so that their lips could meet. With half the grape inside his mouth, Erestor placed the other half within the lord’s open mouth and plopped it inside once their lips touched. Remaining still for a few seconds, Erestor then gently closed his lips and moved away, allowing Glorfindel to eat the fruit.

“Mango.”

A smile flitted across the brunette’s mouth and he repeated his actions with a mango slice, then banana, then peach, then grape again, and so on until Glorfindel had had his fill.

Once again they sat in silence, neither moving except for Erestor whom finished eating the last few remaining fruits on the plate. As he did so a bright light filled his vision and as he turned to the source of it, he saw the sun rising and could not help but release a small, pitiful sigh. When the plate was empty, Glorfindel took it from Erestor’s hands and placed it back on the table. Picking up a knife he returned to the bed and deftly cut into the scarf holding Erestor in place.

“You may leave now,” he said and threw the knife onto the bed. He turned and walked to the door and called out for Secar. Erestor could not stop the bright smile that lit his features and quickly got up from the bed. As he approached Glorfindel he lightly grasped a strong shoulder to gain his superior’s attention.

“Thankyou, my lord,” he beamed, and impulsively moved in to kiss the warrior lightly on the lips. “Have a lovely day,” he said as he pulled back, and turned to leave. Secar gave him a wide-eyed look but Erestor just smirked and went straight past, collecting his clothes as he moved through the main room.

“Attend me,” Glorfindel ordered, and marched to the bed, sitting on the edge, his legs spread wide.

“Yes sir!” Secar said, unable to keep the elation from his voice.


~*~*~*~*~*~


Erestor quickly bathed and changed into one of his father’s robes and left his rooms. Upon exiting the palace, he was about to quickly make his way to his home, but a voice calling out his name stilled him. Turning around he saw the always enthusiastic Nandaer waving at him. Dressed in light clothes with various weapons at his sides, it seemed the young lad was about to start his daily training. Beside him was another warrior, much taller and older than the boy. Yet they looked very similar in the eyes, nose, mouth and hair, but the cheeks and jaw line of the older one was much more defined. Erestor could only presume this handsome elf was Nandaer’s brother.

The elf in question felt Erestor’s gaze and returned his own powerful stare. After having his fill of the delicate facial features, the skilled warrior made no pretence as his eyes unabashedly raked over the rest of Erestor’s form with unbridled lust. Erestor unconsciously clenched his bottom around the phallus still within him and swallowed hard.

“Morning Erestor!” Nandaer said brightly, re-gaining the scribe’s attention.

“Good morning Nandaer. How does this lovely day find you?” Erestor asked politely.

“Very well thankyou. And you? How are your wounds?”

“All healed, thanks to you,” Erestor gave the boy a wink. Then not so subtly darted his eyes to the lieutenant, according to braids in his hair, then back to Nandaer again.

“Oh, allow me to introduce my brother, Natahl.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who knew one family could be blessed with two handsome elves?” Erestor boldly said and held out his hand. Natahl’s hand moved too quickly for the scribe to register and easily caught Erestor unawares, and, with their eyes linked, the older elf brought the delicate hand to his mouth to place a soft kiss upon it.

“Of course, I need no introduction to you, dear Erestor, for your beauty and talent is all I hear of these days.”

“Oh, you honour me, but surely it is little compared to risking life and limb for the residents of this great city?”

“But it is no less important,” the rogue gave a half smile the gently squeezed the delicate hand before releasing it. “If you will excuse us, we must be off lest our Lord chastise us for being late. Good day to you, Master Erestor.”

“Bye!” Nandaer waved.

Erestor gave a small wave in return but no words of parting came to him.

“My my, he *is* a handsome fellow, is he not?” a voice whispered in his ear.

Erestor quickly rounded on his mysterious guest and cried in elation when his father’s face came into view. “Father!” he near shouted in joy and gave him a warm hug.

“Erestor, oh, I was just coming to find you. Only to see that you were going to make me wait all for a pretty face.”

“Father!” Erestor admonished.

“I would say he is about 75, maybe 80… and just ripe for the picking,” Earane lifted an eyebrow in suggestion.

Erestor stared wide-eyed at his father and merely shook his head in disbelief. “Come, let us go home. The palace is no place to talk of such things,” Erestor said, looping his arm around Earane’s and swiftly turned him around to marched him home.





TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks!)
Dedicated to my darling Para
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: none (I think) Just Glorfindel being, well… Glorfindel
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)




Chapter 19

Erestor held the mountain of documents close to his chest, his eyes barely seeing over the top of them. Most elves moved aside for him, but some did not and only by the smallest of spaces did Erestor actually miss them. Sighing in relief as he reached Glorfindel’s office door without a hitch, he carefully moved all the papers to one hand and knocked on the door. Quickly grasping the handle, he tugged on it as he expected a voice to bid him enter. But the door was locked and no words came from within. Frowning, Erestor knocked again then quickly balanced the documents that were starting to lean to the left. He waited, but it seemed Glorfindel was not there.

“He is not in,” the guard beside the door offered.

“Oh, do you know when he might be back, please?” Erestor asked, startled that a warrior on duty had spoken at all.

The tall mouse-blonde soldier looked at Erestor with a warm upwards turn of his lip.

“I imagine he should be back any minute now, Master Erestor.”

“Oh, Natahl!” Eerestor exclaimed in surprise, and closed his eyes in shame and alarm as the carefully ordered papers, fell to the ground in a huge mess. “Oh dear,” he sighed in despair. Quickly kneeling, Erestor began picking up the papers and put them into piles so he could sort them into their correct arrangement once more.

“Here, let me help,” Natahl offered and laid his spear flat on the ground and started helping to organise the slips.

“Thank you very much, but I would hate for you to get into trouble just for me when on watch. Especially outside Lord Glorfindel’s door,” Erestor worriedly said.

“You are kind, but do not fret. I would not neglect my duties unless I knew the punishment was worth it,” he said sincerely, and gave a small smile in answer to Erestor’s shocked expression. Erestor floundered at what to say in reply and eventually gave up, instead responding to Natahl’s smile in kind. “That is nice…” Natahl continued, “you look good with your hair down. Much nicer and more natural than the braids you wore three days ago.”

“You saw me three days ago?”

“Of course! I am stationed here at least twice a week. I often see you walking these halls, though clearly you do not see me,” the soldier smiled, no offence taken.

“Oh, I am sorry. I never knew… I imagined you would be far too busy training others or patrolling our borders to be placed in here,” Erestor spoke, true regret on his face.

“Sometimes I am, though currently there are far too many Lieutenants and not enough recruits to train, so we are spread around many different areas. Apparently very few are joining the army these days and the King is trying to allow peasants to join the ranks.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Erestor asked curiously, keeping his head and eyes down as he continued to collect the papers.

“I think it is a marvellous idea. If we do not have the forces necessary now just to complete the mundane tasks in a time of peace, then what hope do we have when there is a war? Anyone willing to be in the armies should be allowed to pledge their life to Gondolin, no matter their circumstances of birth.”

Erestor nodded his head, his lips curled into a smile at Natahl’s words. But it quickly left his face when he felt a hand brush his cheek. Looking up, he saw Natahl’s bright green eyes considering him closely, and the fingers on his face moved to cup the left side of his head. Erestor remained still, unsure of how to react.

“Does this bother you?” Natahl asked sincerely.

“No, but, should Lord Glorfindel come…” Erestor cautioned.

“Everything you do seems to be for his benefit… Have you ever considered that you are not his slave? Is it out of loyalty or fear that you obey his whims?”

“No, I… It is just… He is so powerful…” Erestor lamely explained, his eyes shamefully falling to the floor again.

“Do not worry, for it shall not always be that way,” Natahl soothed, and with a finger, tucked a few stray hairs behind Erestor’s ear. “A flower right here would keep your hair in place, and only add to your beauty.”

Erestor blushed and gave a shy smile at the compliment. Moving his hand to the base of Erestor’s head, Natahl gently brought the scribe towards him. Erestor placed a hand on the ground to steady himself as he was urged towards the blonde’s lips, the phallus within him changing position slightly with every movement he made. When they were but a hair’s breath apart, Natahl ceased his pull and remained still, his fingers gliding over Erestor’s skin through his hair.

“I am going to kiss you now,” Natahl warned.

“We should not… Glorfindel...” Erestor resisted.

“Put him out of your mind,” Natahl persisted, and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Erestor’s soft and pliant ones. Unlike with Glorfindel, Erestor’s mouth was not forced open with a harsh tongue and ravaged with almost bestial force. Instead, Natahl’s lips were gentle and soothing. Their mouths did not open, but in no way was the kiss a chaste one. Their lips moved against one another’s, and Erestor’s eyelids fluttered closed as his heartbeat sped up in a way it never had before. Natahl watched closely all these reactions and smirked into the kiss.

At the sound of sharp, heavy, quick-paced footfalls, Erestor pulled away and looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Glorfindel round the corner into the hallway. The blonde lord quickly surveyed the situation. Erestor and a guard were on the ground, bent over a mountain of disorderly papers, leaning in towards one another. The only movement came from the soldier’s arm, which was slowly lowering from near the scribe’s shoulder. Erestor’s flushed cheeks and guilty look immediately alerted Glorfindel. His eyes swiftly honed in on Natahl’s countenance and felt something significant had just happened, as his sharp gaze suggested nothing more than a challenge had just been stated.

Walking towards them, he stood over the pair, giving nothing away.

“Soldier, why are you not at your post?” he demanded.

“This scribe dropped his papers; I was merely assisting in picking them up. I apologise if this displeases you, but as no one was in your office, it seemed little matter if my attention was not purely on the safety of an empty room for a few moments,” Natahl bravely answered back, slowly and languidly standing once again next to the door, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes as he watched the smooth-talking elf take up his post once more. Swiftly looking back at Erestor, the dark haired elf, whom had also been watching Natahl, snapped his head at Glorfindel, his eyes wide and he gulped audibly.

“Do not keep me waiting,” Glorfindel growled, before going inside his office, keeping his door wide open. Erestor nodded his head, though there was no point now. Swiftly organising the papers once more, he carefully picked them up and with some effort managed to gain his feet once more. Just before entering the office, his eyes drifted to Natahl once more. The soldier replied in kind and winked at the younger elf before looking at nothing once more.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Erestor cleared his throat to gain Glorfindel’s attention as he could not knock upon the door.

“Come in, Erestor,” Glorfindel’s tone held a foreboding lilt to it. “And close the door behind you.”

Erestor came in far enough to push the door closed with an elbow, leaning upon the wood to click the latch into place. He walked to Glorfindel’s desk and delicately placed the papers he held on the corner. Not the safest place to put the documents, but it was the only part of the table not covered in maps, spilt ink, ornaments, scrolls and orders.

“Umm, these are the documents you requested,” Erestor said timidly, not wanting to disturb Glorfindel too much.

“Which ones?” Glorfindel asked, not looking up from the letter he was currently perusing.

“The employment records of all your lower house staff.”

“Is yours in there?”

“Indeed it is. I have arranged them chronologically, from those that have been employed here the longest and then in alphabetical order. Mine is close to the bottom,” Erestor helpfully volunteered.

“Pass it to me,” Glorfindel said, holding his arm out.

Erestor’s face fell.

“But, it is almost at the bottom, and, as you can see, there are quite a few documents in the pile. It would be much easier if you or we were to go through them from the top…” Erestor tried.

Glorfindel sighed audibly and lowered his arms and looked displeasingly at Erestor. Erestor stared back, worried.

“I gave you an order did I not?” Glorfindel growled warningly.

“You did my Lord, but-”

Glorfindel suddenly stood and Erestor immediately jumped back. The blonde rounded his desk menacingly and easily backed Erestor up against a wall, pressing the object inside him deeper. Taking hold of the delicate jaw in one hand, Glorfindel silently demanded Erestor look at him. Erestor stared wide-eyed at the blue gaze focussing on him and swallowed hard.

“What happened outside before I arrived?” he queried in a strained tone, not allowing his possessive anger to come forth just yet.

“It was just as the guard said, I dropped my papers and-”

“Why was he touching you?” Glorfindel’s voice raised in volume.

“He was not-”

“I SAW HIM! Now tell me WHY!” the Lord’s eyes were ferocious.

“I know not why he would,” Erestor tried to stall.

“AND WHY DID YOU ALLOW HIM TO!?” Glorfindel screamed again, his hand moving to the scribe’s throat and squeezed.

“I… I was in shock,” Erestor wheezed, trembling.

“Shock?” Glorfindel released his hold, but did not let go.

Erestor nodded as much as he could.

“How so?”

“I just… I could not believe his boldness. Not only was his touch uninvited, but it was *me* whom he sought contact with. Everyone knows you have all but claimed me. No one dares talk to me lest they feel your rage. His daring nature trapped me. I tried to warn him, but he would not listen…” Erestor looked down, remorse showing clearly on his face. “Though I do not think he is wholly a bad person, perhaps just, unaware of the situation,” his eyes swinging back to Glorfindel, hoping Natahl would not be reprimanded too badly for this.

Glorfindel nodded slowly, his hand moving to Erestor’s shoulder, and then pulled the scribe to him before sliding both arms around the brunette’s back, one hand urging Erestor’s head to lean on his shoulder.

“Shhh, it is all right. You have had quite a shock indeed,” Glorfindel cooed, gently rocking the pair. Erestor remained quiet but nodded against the blonde, letting out a shuddering breath as he did so. Following the lord’s lead, he wound his arms around Glorfindel waist and squeezed gently. They stayed like that for several moments, neither saying a thing as time passed around them.

However, eventually, Glorfindel lightly grasped Erestor’s shoulders and gently pushed the scribe far enough away for him to lean down and present the scribe with a soft, closed mouth kiss. Erestor obediently allowed him to do so and clenched a fist in the blonde’s expensive tunic, as though in elated passion.

Glorfindel pulled back completely and smirked at Erestor’s flushed appearance.

“How do you find the new size? Are you adjusting all right?” Glorfindel asked, his eyes raking over Erestor’s form.

“Ahhh, it is still quite uncomfortable, but I think I am growing a little each day, in order to compensate for its girth,” Erestor said awkwardly, his eyes darting anywhere but at Glorfindel.

“Has there been any ripping or bleeding?”

“None that I have noticed.”

“Come, lean over my desk and I shall look myself,” Glorfindel insisted.

Erestor felt his mind screaming at him to object and run away, but his body did as he was bid. Coming to the edge of his lord’s desk, he spread his legs to shoulder width and rested his chest and head on the paper strewn wood.

Glorfindel smiled huskily at Erestor’s compliance and took great delight in watching the scribe’s bent form. Coming to stand directly behind the brunette’s backside, Glorfindel leaned down and picked up the hem of Erestor’s robe, bringing it over up and over the smaller elf’s legs to rest on his waist. Reaching around the slender hips, Glorfindel grasped the cord keeping the leggings in place and released them. Despite having acquired leggings for Erestor, they were still too big and immediately fell down the slender legs without any assistance from Glorfindel. The lord smiled at the sight Erestor now presented, and quickly dismissed any notion of the scribe being too skinny, even for an elf.

Glorfindel reached out his hands and groped Erestor’s buttocks, feeling and massaging the twin mounds for some time then pulled them apart, revealing the flat-ended phallus buried deep within his lover. Glorfindel smiled at the sight and with two fingers and a thumb, grasped the end and twisted it to the right. His smile broadened as Erestor gasped and clenched his buttocks, if anything, holding onto the object all the more tighter. Pulling against the vacuum keeping the phallus in place, Glorfindel slowly dragged the object out, the oil fresh from that morning keeping it and Erestor’s anus slick. A final gentle tug pulled the glass item free with a wet ‘pop’.

“I see you are keeping it well lubricated,” Glorfindel mentioned.

“Yes, it becomes too uncomfortable otherwise, and hurts more so when I try to pull it free,” Erestor answered, relieved to have the dreaded thing out of him once more.

“How many times a day do you remove it?”

“Twice a day to apply fresh lubricant, and however many times… nature calls,” Erestor blushed and pushed his face into the hard desk to hide in shame.

Glorfindel smiled and closely looked at the implement approximately the width of two of his fingers. “Just another 4 sizes to go…” he whispered to himself. Putting the item down on the table, he again reached out for Erestor’s buttocks and spread them apart, visually assessing the well-used hole. “Hmmm, it does seem a bit red and tender,” Glorfindel commented. “I would advise for you not to aggravate it any further, but we both know that would do you no good in the end…”

“Yes sir,” Erestor grumbled, flexing his fingers on the desk.

“I suppose this kind of reaction would be considered normal, given that we are now into the third straight week you have worn these, correct?”

“Correct,” Erestor chimed in.

Glorfindel listened to the unpassionate voice and sighed. “Erestor, it sounds to me that you do not enjoy these little toys I gift you with.”

“I would not say that, it is just, knowing what is to come, it is hard to appreciate these inanimate objects,” Erestor said despairingly. Glorfindel smiled and leant over the body.

“I know precisely what you mean,” Glorfindel husked in Erestor’s ear, gently biting on the tip and felt the scribe shudder beneath him. “Come to my rooms tonight. You may leave the… thing out until then. Just be sure to bring it with you.”

“Yes my lord,” Erestor answered, and turned his head for a kiss. Glorfindel obliged him for a few seconds then pulled away.

“I have training this afternoon and must respond to a couple of letters first. You had better go lest I get no work done at all,” Glorfindel winked. Erestor half smiled in return and stood up, his robe immediately draping to the floor again. Bending down, he pulled up his leggings under his robe and pulled the cord tight, tying it in place. He sighed in relief as he moved for the first time in weeks without a hard and awkward object inside of him.

Picking up the item from Glorfindel’s desk, Erestor wiped the fluids from it with his sleeve, and then hid it within a pocket concealed on the lower part of his robe.

“Until tonight,” he smiled and bowed before leaving the room, sure to close the door behind him. He leant against the door for support for a few seconds then started to leave, not wishing to cause any more trouble around here for today. He did not look at Natahl as he left.

The guard was obviously disgruntled at this and captured Erestor’s hand as he passed. Pushing the scribe against the wall, Natahl pressed up close and kissed him again, just as softly and gently as before, but his hands roamed all over the lithe body. Erestor tried pushing him away, scared Glorfindel would come out any moment now and reprimand Natahl for his earlier actions.

“No, sto-oop… you mustn’t…” Erestor whispered the few times he did escape Natahl’s lips. “We cannot.” Natahl released the scribe’s lips and began kissing along the delicate jaw line to the perfectly tipped ears.

“Promise to see me tonight and I will let you go,” he demanded.

“No… Glorfindel…” Erestor tried to explain.

“After him, I do not mind. I shall wait for you. Come to me. I will be at the stables behind the palace,” he demanded, then released Erestor. The scribe stumbled for a few steps then righted himself again. Turning around, he saw Natahl back in his usual position. Nodding slightly, Erestor spun around and headed off towards his office.



~*~*~*~*~*~



“Is something wrong?” Glorfindel asked over the rim of his wine glass.

“No,” Erestor answered, looking rather forlorn. Placing his fork on the plate, which had only been playing with his carrots for the past three minutes, he looked out the window into the dark blue evening and sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Erestor, obviously there *is* a problem. You can either share it with me and I can do everything in my power to help, or you can keep it to yourself and continue looking morose all night. Which is it to be?” Glorfindel all but demanded.

“No, honestly, there is nothing you can do to help. It has just been a long day and I suddenly find myself tired. But do not worry, for I have no desire to leave. Even if it means I may rest now, I would rather suffer and see you instead,” He smiled shyly, hiding his blushing cheeks behind his glass of water.

“Erestor, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say such things. However, if you are so exhausted, then may I suggest you go to bed right now?” Glorfindel offered.

“No, I said for you not to worry. Honestly, do not.”

“But I do not want you to collapse from fatigue come tomorrow.”

“It is all right. My free day is after tomorrow. I shall merely sleep in later and go to bed early then. Truly, I shall be fine.”

“Erestor that will not do!” Glorfindel pounded his fist on the table. “I insist you go to bed right now!”

“Oh, very well then. I shall see you tomorrow night, yes?” Erestor asked hopefully.

“Yes. No, come to my office for lunch,” Glorfindel said, standing as he did so. Coming around the table he leant down and kissed Erestor sweetly, a hand softly cupping the small head. “Now go to bed.”

“Yes my lord, I shall visit you tomorrow. Goodnight,” Erestor spoke, a little sadly and left the bedroom. Walking through the main room he exited the lord’s chamber and closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he began running full-pelt for the stables, hoping he was not doing something foolish… there was just *something* about Natahl he could not resist…

Erestor stopped to catch his breath just as he was leaving the palace, seeking to refresh his red face and heavy breathing. From there he walked at a slow pace towards the stables, wishing Natahl would indeed be there. Entering from the side, Erestor tip-toed into the barn, cautious of anyone else being there. After scanning the large structure a few times, he considered the coast clear; however there were no signs of Natahl either.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” he whispered aloud. “Natahl?”

“Erestor! Up here!” Natahl called from above. Up on a platform in the rafters Natahl stood on the edge and was looking down at Erestor, a big smile on his face. “I was not expecting you so soon.”

“Lord Glorfindel gave me permission to leave early.”

“And does he know this was your destination once you were free of his clutches?”

Erestor shook his head. “No, I said I was tired and needed sleep.”

Natahl laughed, throwing his head back. “Aaaah, the poor love-sick fool!” With that, he grasped a rope and jumped off the platform, easily sliding down and landing silently on the ground next to Erestor. He smiled in the moonlit slivers of light shining through the cracks in the wood and reached out for the scribe, pulling him close by the waist. Natahl wasted no time and swiftly brought the younger elf in for a kiss. Erestor allowed the lip-lock and initiated further contact by opening his mouth and, with a shy tongue, requested deeper intimacy. Natahl gladly welcomed Erestor’s tongue into his mouth and sucked on the hot, slick muscle, massaging it with his own.

Erestor moaned into the kiss and fell into Natahl, leaning his entire body weight against the blonde. Natahl happily accepted his light burden and kept the scribe upright and pressed tightly against himself. The large hands stroked down the small back to firmly grasp the tight twin mounds of flesh at its base. Erestor gasped in surprise, and found himself thanking the gods that the damnable thing that had been inside him had yet to be replaced. Enjoying himself thoroughly, Erestor placed one hand deep within Natahl’s hair, keeping him in place as the kiss continued.

“Mmmm, Elleshtooorrr,” Natahl moaned into the kiss, and began marching the Scribe backwards to the barn wall. Erestor yelped and started squirming as his back and head came into contact with the sturdy wood, but he stilled when he felt another hardness rub into his front.

Moving his hands to Natahl’s shoulders, he pushed back against the larger elf and turned his head to the side, “No… stop,” he panted.

“I don’t think I can,” Natahl gasped and picked Erestor up, urging the younger elf to wrap his legs around the warrior’s waist. When Erestor refused, Natahl carried him to the nearest mound of hay and laid him down, quickly covering the scribe’s body with his own.

“No, Natahl… stop… do not do this, please,” Erestor pleaded, tears welling in his eyes as his body was pawed by the soldier above him.

“Please Erestor, let me have this one memory to keep me company in the coming months,” Natahl begged back, nipping and sucking at Erestor’s neck as he began undoing the Scribe’s robe. Erestor stopped his struggling immediately and caught Natahl’s head in both his hands, forcing the blonde to look at him.

“What do you mean?” Erestor asked.

Natahl sighed and sat back, looking at Erestor. “Lord Glorfindel, in all his wisdom, has seen fit to send me to the borders for six months as punishment for my earlier transgressions. This is the last time we shall see each other for half a year. Please… let me have you,” he asked, and bent in for a sweet kiss.

Erestor put his hand against Natahl’s lips and stopped the warrior. “I am sorry. I should not have come here tonight. I *would* not have, if I knew your reasons.”

Natahl gently took hold of the small wrist and moved the hand aside, kissing the palm as he did so. “Believe me, when I invited you here, this was the furthest thing from my mind. Well, maybe not the *furthest*, but I never intended for things to go this far. After you left his office, he gave me my punishment, and all I could think of was your dark, beautiful eyes, luscious hair and succulent lips. Please, let me have all of you tonight, just one night… If these were normal circumstances, I would ask permission from your father to court you. I would treat you ever so gently and give you anything you wanted. But I am to be gone for a long time, and even if that were not the most pressing issue here, there is Glorfindel. With him always watching you and barking at others for getting close to you… There is no way for us to be together… at least, not as freely as other couples. Please, what do you say?”

“I still say ‘no’. As much as I understand the circumstances, I cannot allow this to happen. If we did go ahead tonight, Glorfindel *would* find out about it, of that I am sure. All the while you will be gone, far from here, unable to protect me, for his wrath would be great. Not only would his status have been questioned by our actions, but also his pride, and he would not be forgiving in this. Please understand when I say that we cannot. We *must* not. The best I can say, is that when you do return, I shall be willing to court you, Glorfindel or not.”

Natahl, whom had been looking quite sullenly down at the hay, suddenly perked up and smiled genuinely at Erestor. “I can live with such an arrangement,” he spoke and leant down again for one last kiss before standing, pulling Erestor with him. “I had best get some sleep. I leave at dawn.”

Erestor nodded. “I can see you off, if you like…?” he offered.

“As much as that thought thrills me, I cannot allow it. Glorfindel shall be there and his suspicion will escalate with your presence. I shall be happy only to know you are thinking of me, as I shall be thinking of you.”

Erestor smiled gleefully and nodded his head. He leant up for another, longer, kiss, his arms sliding around Natahl’s neck. “Now, you will be careful, won’t you?” Erestor asked, his forehead resting against Natahl’s.

“With the thought of your sweet kisses to return to, nothing will stop me from returning. This I promise.” Erestor swallowed and nodded his head gently. They kissed once more before Erestor slipped outside, returning to his cold, lonely bedchamber once more.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks!)
Dedicated to my darling Para
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: none (I think) Just Glorfindel being, well… Glorfindel
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)




Chapter 20



Erestor sat down and grimaced.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes father, I am fine,” Erestor smiled back, but did not part his lips.

Earane frowned but let it go for the time being.

“How is your work going?”

“It is not as challenging as I would like it to be. However, there are future prospects that look promising. How about you? Are your wares selling?”

Earane shrugged. “Enough to keep my head above water,” Earane sighed and took a seat at the table.

Erestor reached across the worn wooden surface and lifted the tea pot, filling both cups with the amber liquid. Placing the pot silently on the table, Erestor picked up his cup and breathed in deeply the scent of the revitalising herbal tea.

“What about my earnings? Are they not helping?” Erestor inquired.

“I told you,” Earane said sharply. “That is your money and I refuse to touch it. You may keep it here, however I shall not be tempted by its presence.”

“I have told you, all my needs are taken care of. It is you I worry for. All those sacrifices when I was a child… I cannot forget all you have ever done for me. I would like the opportunity to at least reimburse you in some small way…” Erestor tried to reason, but trailed off when Earane looked at him with piercing eyes, his cup halfway to his mouth. For the first time in his life, Erestor could not remember his father ever looking so angry. And hurt.

“Do you think I did everything for you because I felt a parental obligation to do so!? Because I felt I owed it to your mother to take care of you!? You have been associating with those aristocrats for too long… Too absorbed with money and possessions to recognise their own feelings. I regret nothing and do not wish to be reimbursed for taking care of my son, whom I cherish,” Earane heaved and thumped his cup on the table.

Erestor, thoroughly chastised, looked helplessly at his father for a few moments before letting his head fall forwards out of shame. “You are right, father. I am sorry… I, I just do not know how else to help you…”

“Doing your best with your work will always give me strength. You have never failed me in that aspect before, I do not expect you to start now,” Earane said, sure to keep his voice gentle this time.

“Yes father,” Erestor perked up a little and took a sip of tea before he was ready to meet his father’s eyes once more.

“Tell me, that blonde elf I saw you with some weeks back, has anything… developed… between you two?” Earane gave a cheeky grin and winked.

“Father! A gentleman would never tell,” Erestor stoically replied.

“Very well… Can I at least learn of his name?”

“Natahl. He is a Lieutenant in the Golden Flower army and is currently away on a half-year long border patrol.” Earane couldn’t help but notice the forlorn tone to Erestor voice as he said this.

“And how long is it until he returns home?” the jewellery maker questioned.

Erestor sighed, “Five and a half months.”

“You have fallen for him, I take it?” Earane softly probed.

“How could I have? I have spoken with him only three times!”

“I never needed words to know your mother was meant for me,” Earane said almost smugly.

“Yes, well, I have never imagined myself to be with someone in the army. Not that their occupation is a problem, but even so, I have always thought to be with another scholar or similarly educated being. I would so love to be able to talk forever with someone on the same level as me. Not to say he is without intelligence, but it is of a different kind to what I have always thought of. Yet with that aside, there is something that invariable draws me to him,” Erestor sighed. “What am I to do?” he looked at his father questioningly.

“How am I to know? It is not me who has expectations of the one whom he is to be with forever.”

Erestor scowled into his cup and drank more tea.

“And how do things fare with the other blonde?” Earane prompted.

“Other blonde?” Erestor frowned. “Do you mean Lord Glorfindel?” he asked nonchalantly, as though he had not seen his tormentor in months, rather than just three hours ago as he left the Lord’s bedchamber.

“Yes, I mean that insolent, power-hungry child whom feels the world is his and his alone, and we are but ants to be tortured whenever he is bored.”

“Hush father! You must not say such things!” Erestor looked around worriedly. “You know there have been reports of an underground movement. It has even our superiors scared. They are tightening security and furthering the void between peasants and upper class. If you are caught speaking thus they could have you imprisoned,” Erestor warned.

“They could throw me in gaol and destroy the key for no reason at all. Why should I be fearful of them now?”

“True, but I would not like to see you labelled as an insurgent and put away behind bars. And, while there are no guarantees this will not happen, saying such things only puts you at more risk. Please, be careful, father,” Erestor pleaded and reached his hand across the table to grasp Earane’s.

“Very well, but never you forget precisely what I think about that boy.”

“I doubt I ever could,” Erestor half teased.

“Still, you have yet to answer my question.”

“There is not much to say, I do as I am told and am rewarded for good work. It has become a daily routine,” Erestor shrugged.

“I was talking about Glorfindel,” Earane tempted.

“So was I,” Erestor mouth twitched and looked down at his mug. “He sees me as nothing more than a dog to order around… his own little plaything…” Erestor’s shoulders slumped, hating himself for admitting this to his father.

“Why do you not stand up to him? He can order you, but it is up to you whether or not you obey,” Earane offered.

“You do not know what he is like. You could not unless you were with him for every moment. It is just… easier to do as he wishes. It is up to me to obey, yes, but even that does not sate him often. I have found that only when I take the initiative is he truly pleased and with each time gives me a little more freedom.” Erestor gave a small laugh. “It is strange that only in my obedience am I free.”

“Erestor…” Earane whispered. “I have been thinking, for some time now, of sailing. I would like to remain long enough to see you happily wed and safe from all those that would have you, however, perhaps it would be best if I were to leave soon, and have you come with me…”

Erestor lifted his head and gave his father a shaky smile. “Thank you father, but I do not believe I am destined to leave these shores for many years yet. But, please, I beg of you, leave before you see your only son shamed thus. I hate to think of the heartache you must feel, knowing what I have become…”

“Oh, no Erestor,” Earane stood quickly and rounded the table, kneeling beside his son, grasping Erestor firmly by the shoulders and maintaining eye contact. “You are not to blame in this. Forced servitude is no cause for shame. It will not be this way forever, I swear to you. If there is anything, *anything* I can do to help ease your burden, please do not hesitate to say so. I would be heartbroken should you keep anything from me,” Earane said with strong conviction, his eyes only showing comfort for his son.

“Thank you father… you have ever been a pillar of strength for me. I shall lean upon you again whenever it is necessary,” Erestor gave a half smile before he was pulled forward and crushed within his father’s strong arms.

“I love you. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I know father, for I feel the same way,” Erestor sighed into the comforting embrace and allowed himself to relax, mentally and physically, resting his head upon his father’s shoulder.


TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks!)
Dedicated to my darling Para
Rated: Light R
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Violence, oral
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)




Chapter 21



Erestor smiled and turned his head to the side as Glorfindel nuzzled his neck. A small, excited laugh left the dark one’s throat and his hands encircled Glorfindel’s shoulders, his fingertips running through the blonde hair.

“You seem eager tonight,” Glorfindel mumbled against the fair skin.

“Should I not be? We have waited so long for this… why delay any longer?” he said and started pulling Glorfindel back towards the bed. With a carefree giggle, they both fell back against the rose-petal-strewn bed sheets.

Glorfindel jerked awake, breathing heavily and sporting a huge erection. Rolling onto his side, his arms snaked around the waist of the dark haired elf next to him, sliding his hands up to pinch and twist at the nipples they soon came across. The elf stirred and moaned, twisting into the touch. He rolled onto his stomach and Glorfindel followed. Grasping a leg, Glorfindel pushed it aside and easily thrust into his companion, having already used him twice before that night. Glorfindel groaned and began moving immediately. He set a fast pace and it wasn’t soon before he spilled himself and collapsed on top of the other elf, uncaring of his need. Grasping strands of dark hair, he brought them to his nose and breathed deeply. Startled, he pulled back, wrenching himself from his partner and rolled back over to his side of the bed and sighed almost painfully.

“You may spend yourself in the bathroom. I shall have my tea once you are done,” Glorfindel simply said.

“Yes my Lord. It was an honour to serve you,” Secar bowed lowly and retreated into the privacy of the bathing chamber where he could bring himself to completion.

Glorfindel lay back against the pillows and sighed again. For the past week he had barely seen Erestor. The main library of Gondolin had received several new books two weeks ago. In order to accommodate space for them, old books were given to the House libraries and Erestor was busy stocking the shelves and updating the catalogues accordingly. Glorfindel could never remember being so sated and yet frustrated at the same time. Whenever he went to visit the younger elf, he was either too busy to spare the Lord more than five minutes or was called away just as things were progressing in the right direction. Usually there would be no hurry to allocate and add the books, but the annual taking of books was fast approaching and not even Glorfindel’s orders or threat of violence was enough to sway Erestor from his duties.

Still, Glorfindel mused; it must be just as hard on Erestor. And besides, in just another three days, books or not, nothing will keep us from becoming one. With that comforting thought, Glorfindel relaxed completely and brought the sheets up to his chest, barely noticing Secar as he gathered his clothes and left. “At last,” Glorfindel breathed softly and dozed for a while longer.


~*~*~*~*~


Erestor sighed with a sense of accomplishment and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Not only had it taken just ten days to organise the new books, rather than the predicated three weeks, but he now had two weeks to rest before stock taking was to begin. Standing, he brushed the dust from his robes and walked out of the library. Reporting to the head Scribe, Erestor explained the situation and also recommended that some books, of which there were two of more copies, would be of more use to the other House libraries that have none of them. With permission, he collected the extra books and delivered them to the neighbouring Houses. At each one, he spoke to those in charge of the libraries and left in their care any books they wished for that they did not own. In return, he collected some new ones for the Golden Flower library.

However, the Chief Scribe in the House of the Tree was not available as he and all other scribes were currently in a meeting. Erestor was about to leave it for another time when Lord Galshor appeared from a side corridor. Erestor bowed politely as he passed and at first it seemed that Galshor would continue on without thought, but when he was several metres away from Erestor, he stopped suddenly, and turned his gaze towards Erestor. It took a moment for his memory to catch up with him and eventually Galshor smiled sadistically. His eyes slowly roamed every inch of Erestor’s appearance before coming back to his face.

Erestor swallowed back the uneasy feeling rising from his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Galshor demanded.

“I- I came to see your scribes, my Lord. I was bid to bring them new books to add to their collection,” Erestor squeaked.

Galshor remained quiet for a moment then turned and began walking away. “Come with me,” he simply ordered, not even turning around to ensure Erestor was following him.

Opening his office door he left it open for Erestor and sat down in his chair, looking up just as Erestor’s head peered around the doorframe.

“Enter,” Galshor said. “What books have you brought my librarians?” he started.

“Well, there are several that would be beneficial to your library, my Lord,” Erestor stated, putting the box on the floor, he picked up several for sample viewing. “These are just a few we would like to offer you. Most are Historical, but there are other genres included. Our own collection has more than one copy and we thought the extras would be of better use elsewhere.”

“Indeed. And I suppose you are expecting others in return for your generosity?” Glashor inquired.

“That is not the reason for this offering, though any exchanges you consider would be very much appreciated.”

Galshor sucked in a large breath and sat back in his chair, the worn leather humming as he rubbed against it. “Very well then, we shall accept your ‘offering’. If you come back tomorrow the scribes here shall have some books for you also. That is, if you can walk tomorrow,” Galshor smirked.

Erestor looked perplexed. “My lord?” he inquired.

“Come to my rooms tonight. Just after dinner.”

“Forgive my rudeness, but Lord Glorfindel has already requested my presence tonight. I am to go to him as soon as I am finished here,” Erestor replied as politely as he could.

Galshor’s smile slipped and he sighed. “Very well then, tomorrow night,” he declared.

Erestor looked all the more uneasy, knowing tomorrow night was supposedly the night he and Glorfindel joined in body for the first time. “I do apologise, but Lord Glorfindel requests my presence each and every night, save when his or my duties are unavoidable. I fear it may be sometime before I am able to have an audience with you,” Erestor trembled slightly at the anger now simmering beneath the surface of the Lord’s eyes.

“Has he called you to his chamber for tomorrow night already, then?” Galshor asked, his teeth clenched.

“Not in so many words, but it is assumed-”

“Then he has not asked for your company. You shall come to my rooms tomorrow. Now go before you are reprimanded,” Galshor dismissed Erestor and turned his eyes down to his tabletop so he could work.

Erestor floundered for a moment, but when it was apparent Galshor would give him no more notice, he hesitatingly left, silently closing the door behind him. With a heavy heart, he made his way towards Glorfindel’s rooms, hoping the situation could somehow be rectified. It is strange, though, that in my misery I turn to my customary abuser for help, Erestor noted to himself.

Without realisation of time or path, Erestor found himself at a wooden door and knocked upon it. Glorfindel opened the door with a huge grin upon his face, so happy at seeing Erestor again he missed the forlorn expression the other elf wore.

“Erestor!” he cheered and pulled the scribe into a tight hug, placing a kiss at a temple. Glorfindel kicked the door closed and with an arm still around the slight shoulders he half-dragged Erestor into the room. “Drink?” he asked.

“Yes please,” Erestor answered, feeling he desperately needed one before telling Glorfindel of Lord Galshor’s plan. Glorfindel happily retrieved a glass of red wine and handed it to Erestor, then sat on the couch and patted his legs. Erestor watched Glorfindel closely. He sighed and downed the drink in one go and then moved to sit upon the Lord’s lap.

“Someone must be thirsty,” Glorfindel joked and moved in for a kiss.

Erestor held the glass a safe distance away and indulged his lord, meeting the questing tongue with his own. Glorfindel groaned at the sweet taste of Erestor and his hands firmly grasped the scribe’s sides before roaming all over the small back and pert buttocks. Erestor’s free hand rested around the blonde’s shoulders, his fingertips weeding their way through the golden hair.

Glorfindel suddenly grasped Erestor’s waist forcefully and pushed him to the side so he lay upon the couch. The move was so unexpected that the glass fell from Erestor’s hand and smashed upon the marble floor. Glorfindel paid it no mind and swiftly followed Erestor down, laying himself over his lover.

Erestor opened his legs as Glorfindel preferred and watched the lord descend upon him. Glorfindel smiled with his lips closed and moved in for another kiss, this time slower and more sensual. He held most of his weight on one forearm resting upon the arm of the couch; the other lightly ran up and down Erestor’s side. Erestor in turn put his arms around Glorfindel’s waist and kneaded the flesh, supposedly in want, muffled moans coming from his throat.

Glorfindel felt himself growing hard and began a steady rocking motion against Erestor’s groin. Erestor’s moans grew louder and Glorfindel was aroused further by the scribe’s enjoyment. He snaked a hand under the slender body, grasping at a tight arse cheek through the material of the clothes the younger elf wore. Erestor gasped as the item inside him shifted and threw his head to the side, breathing heavily as the lord continued toying with him. Erestor tried twisting out of Glorfindel’s hold, but the lord was still mostly on top of him, and escape was impossible without further leverage or strength.

“No… Stop!” Erestor gasped, pushing at Glorfindel’s shoulders.

“If you insist,” Glorfindel smirked and sat back to allow Erestor to calm his breathing. While Erestor was distracted, Glorfindel pushed the dark robe up the scribe’s body and quickly undid the ties to his leggings. Coming to his senses, Erestor tried to catch the large hands before they could pull down his clothing, but Glorfindel was too fast and Erestor was left exposed. Pulling at his robe, he tried to cover himself but again was foiled by his lord when his hands were caught in a tight grip and moved aside. “Come now, there is no need to play coy,” Glorfindel cooed, pressing a kiss to Erestor’s lips before continuing.

Snaking down the lean body, he pushed Erestor’s robe high up the scribe’s chest, exposing the tiny, rose-petal pink nipples. Licking his lips in want, Glorfindel swooped down and took one into his mouth, sucking ardently on the delicate nub. Erestor arched his back in response, groaning. Glorfindel played with Erestor’s chest, going from one bud to the other and back again, tormenting the sensitive nipples repeatedly with tongue, lips and teeth before kissing his way down the stomach. At the bellybutton, Glorfindel dipped his tongue into the small round hole. Erestor sucked in his stomach, releasing a small giggle as the hot slippery muscle tickled him. Grinning in surprise and mischievousness, Glorfindel attacked again, holding Erestor’s hip steady so there would be no escape for the dark beauty. Erestor bucked as he attempted his retreat, but quickly relented to the laughter that overcame him. Glorfindel continued his onslaught until Erestor brokenly cried out for mercy.

With slow, methodical movements, Glorfindel trailed his way further down Erestor’s body, pressing a few kisses to the skin pulled tightly over hip bones. With tentative nips and caring licks, Glorfindel slid down in between Erestor’s legs and gently cupped the flaccid penis in one hand. Erestor jumped at the touch and tried to wriggle away, but Glorfindel kept him firmly in place.

“AAAH! No…” Erestor near begged.

“You do not seem to be enjoying this as much as you should be,” Glorfindel cooed, “but you will be, soon enough. Just relax and enjoy your lord’s attention.”

Glorfindel released Erestor’s hands so he could use both to tease and touch his partner with. Erestor immediately brought his hands to his face, covering his mouth and eyes, trying to block any reaction to the sensual sensations occurring below.

Glorfindel allowed Erestor’s attempt at hiding and ducked his head down to meet the beautiful penis and gave the head a little kiss. With a careful hand, he began stroking the object of his attention, his fingers closed lightly around the shaft. Licking the crest, Glorfindel drooled saliva down the rod, easing his way as his hand continued to rub against the pole. He started slow but sped up as the flesh within his grasp warmed and was slick to the touch. His mouth sucked at the head mostly, but would occasionally travel further south to lick the pink sacs, playing with their sensitive surfaces with his rough tongue, sending delightful pleasure up Erestor’s spine.

Kissing and sucking, sliding and cupping, Glorfindel continued his ministrations for near fifteen minutes before realising Erestor was no harder now than he had been before. Looking up, Glorfindel saw Erestor’s position had not changed. Crawling up the body in concern, Glorfindel pulled Erestor’s hands from his face to see the scribe’s eyes squeezed tightly and his mouth clenched shut.

“Erestor?” Glorfindel queried in a gentle voice. “Is everything well?”

Erestor took a moment before he responded, his eyes opening slowly and his mouth falling agape with a large intake of breath.

“Is it over?” he asked in a quavering voice?

“Over? Nay, it has barely begun.”

It took all of Erestor’s control to stop himself from moaning with disappointment. “Then why did you stop?” he asked lightly.

Glorfindel frowned and lay back down on top of Erestor, kissing the soft lips lightly.

“Did you feel anything? Anything at all? My hands and lips were all over you yet no reaction took place. It is a rare activity that I perform, but I am not so untalented that I am unable to do the task well. Is there something amiss?” Glorfindel asked.

Erestor looked almost fearful for a second, then decided it was the right time to inform Glorfindel.

“Just before I came here, I ran into Lord Galshor… he ordered my presence within his chamber this night. Since you had already given me the same command, I told him this was impossible. Instead, he demanded tomorrow night,” Glorfindel looked like he was about to interrupt, but Erestor hurriedly continued, holding a hand up to cease the lord’s interjection. “I know you would have dictated my companionship tomorrow night as well, but since the order had not been given outright yet, I had no choice but to bow to his wishes,” Erestor closed his eyes, tears seeping through onto his eyelashes, his shoulders trembling slightly.

“You should have lied,” Glorfindel growled and hastily removed himself from Erestor and began pacing.

Erestor quickly pulling his leggings back into place and straightened his robe as he stood.

“What if I had been found out? Lying to a lord *is* a punishable offence,” Erestor tried to reason.

“Oh yes? And how shall that differ to what he is most likely to do to you tomorrow?” Glorfindel shouted at Erestor and watched the librarian shrink back with some satisfaction.

“I am sorry. I knew not what else to do,” Erestor sniffed, and sat on the edge of the couch, his head bowed as he looked at his hands twisting in the dark material of his clothing.

Glorfindel sighed, still frustrated, but calmed himself enough for the moment. Stepping up to the scribe, he kneeled in front of the younger elf and grasped the restless hands in a firm grip.

“You must understand, tomorrow night we were finally going to be joined as one, and now plans have been made to tear us apart. Even if it were a lie, would it not have been worth the potential consequences?”

Erestor’s head shot up, his eyes wide. Looking into Glorfindel’s smitten gaze, the scribe could do nothing but nod in agreement, the rest of his body going numb from the realisation of how deep the lord’s feelings for him may be. Glorfindel smiled brightly, and leaned in to kiss Erestor’s forehead.

“Wait here,” he said and left the room, leaving no room for argument.

Erestor remained immobile, trying to understand what had happened over the course of the past 26 months. They had met after a long time of separation, no longer children but independent adults. Glorfindel’s only intention to begin with had been to possess Erestor’s body. Every meeting from then on involved some form of lecherous activity. Kissing, stroking, bodies right up against one another, but as Erestor was not of age and did not give permission, their activities did not progress much further and never was a single item of clothing removed.

But still, Glorfindel acted as though he wanted nothing more than to ravage Erestor’s body then cast him aside once he had had his fill. The first time it appeared the lord’s attitude had changed was soon after Silindrical had been added to the equation. In order to freely have the scribe she had to be removed so no eternal bond could be made and Glorfindel’s aim taken from him. But even so, he did not only separate the lovers, he ruined Silindrical’s life and humiliated her in front of Erestor, shattering also the scribe’s only viable escape from Glorfindel’s clutches. Yet from then on also, Glorfindel’s actions only seemed based on his desire for Erestor’s physical presence. Never had any plans or actions made by the blonde incorporated any attempt to deepen his relationship with Erestor.

The dinners shared were directed by Glorfindel. Sexual comments flew off his tongue with nary a thought to Erestor’s comfort. Unpleasing comments made by the scribe resulted in harsh reprimands.

The only time the lord seemingly gave into Erestor, was sexually. After two years of waiting, Glorfindel stayed himself so Erestor would be more comfortable, physically, when he was inevitably entered. Even so, that only showed compassion and concern for his partner, but the end result would still be the same, and Erestor still had no say over the event occurring at all. If indeed Glorfindel’s feelings had deepened into love, it could only have happened over the past few weeks when Erestor had played the role of a willing partner and had done his best to please his lord.

Erestor’s face drained of colour upon the possible realisation that he might have mistakenly made Glorfindel fall for him. His recent compliant attitude was born of self-preservation, not to expose the blonde’s weakness and take advantage of it. Ironically, that was not what Glorfindel had wanted from the beginning either. All along the lord had mentioned how sweet an unwilling partner would be. The struggle between the two bodies, the rough play and the gratifying slumber that would come soon after completion. That had been Glorfindel’s aim from the off, so why would he then fall for the submitting type?

At that moment, Glorfindel re-entered the room and slammed the door close.

“THAT BASTARD! ‘Galdor does not speak for me’- MY ARSE!” he ranted, screaming, and punched a wall in anger. Erestor recoiled when a sickening crack reverberated from the impact, and Glorfindel shook his hand loose from its fist, cradling his hand with the other.

Sighing, he turned to Erestor with a look of despair on his face.

“I am sorry…” Glorfindel began. His mouth continued to move, but Erestor heard none of it, a sickening feeling starting in his gut as he considered this to be the first time the lord had ever apologised to anyone of his own will. His eyes darting around the room, they came to rest upon the corner where once he had seen two naked females, battered and bruised. They were the blonde’s prized slaves. Erestor had all but forgotten them. Racking his brain, he could not recall having ever seen them since that first night. And from the look of the dust covered chain lying on the ground, it would appear that they had not been present in this room since then.

A gentle touch on his hand brought Erestor back to reality. He jumped, but did not turn his gaze to Glorfindel just yet.

“Where have your slaves gone?” Erestor simply asked.

“Oh… I er… I gave them away,” he said, trying to find the right words.

“Why? I thought they were dear to you. After all, they were a present from your father.”

“True, but they were part of an agreement I made… to keep you safe,” Glorfindel admitted softly.

Erestor’s eyes widened and he looked at the lord in astonishment.

‘What?’ he mouthed.

“On your 50th begetting day, I went to all the lords of the respective Houses and offered various deals to each to ensure that they and those in their houses, regardless of rank, would not touch you,” Glorfindel said, and brought his fingers up to Erestor’s cheek. “The agreements last for at least a year. Some of them over five. My slaves went to Ecthelion’s father and also Maeglin, along with some coin and various other items they requested. It was a small price to pay,” Glorfindel smiled and softly kissed Erestor’s forehead, but soon continued on after that. “And it was obviously working since no other has tried to touch you. Except, Galshor was away at the time, so I made the agreement with Galdor. Lord Galshor returned soon after but never said anything to me, so I assumed he agreed to the terms that Galdor and I had arranged. But now he claims to know nothing of our deal and therefore will not respect it. Erestor, I know we had decided tomorrow night would be the time I take your virginity from you, but given the circumstances, perhaps we should do it now. I would hate to think of what he might to do you, first time or not.” Glorfindel suggested.

“What?” Erestor asked, still dazed and confused about this turn of events. “Is there nothing else you can do?”

“Well, there is one other possibility. We could get married. That way, Galdor, and everyone else, will never be allowed to touch you again,” Glorfindel half smiled and leant in close as he continued speaking. “Just my hands, on you… forever…” he cooed and lightly nipped Erestor’s bottom lip.

Before Glorfindel could deepen the touch into a kiss, Erestor suddenly stood up and pushed back on Glorfindel’s shoulders, all but throwing the blonde to the ground. Glorfindel hissed as his broken fingers hit the ground and the injury was jilted.

“Marry you? Marry *YOU*!?” Erestor asked, his mouth snarling in a disgusted manner. “While your proposal would indeed secure my safety from others it would not save me from you!”

Glorfindel again cradled his hand as he stood, and tried to remain as calm as he could. This was all part of the dance, he presumed. Just a formality that needed addressing before they would fall to bed in ecstasy. He laughed casually. “Why would you need to be saved from me? I shall never do anything to harm you.”

Erestor stared at him incredulously. “You hurt me on every occasion we meet! If I falter in my duties to you, if I disobey you, even hesitate for just a moment, you remind me of my place and my servitude to you. You think I *WANT* this thing inside me? You think I want *YOU* inside me? In marriage I will be no more an equal to you than I am now! I would rather be shared with everyone in Middle Earth before I allow you to be the last elf who ever touches me again!”

Erestor was breathing hard, adrenalin rushing through his veins as he spat out the first thoughts that came to mind. His eyes went wide and a shaking hand came to his mouth as he realised precisely what he had just said. Shifting back from the livid form in front of him, he hit the edge of the couch and panic set in as he realised there was no where to go. Glorfindel had him trapped and the lord was enraged.

Glorfindel let out a scathing chuckle. “You really had me fooled…well, since I cannot be the last. I will at least be the first,” he growled and leapt forward. Erestor tried to dodge, but was easily caught and pushed back onto the couch. Glorfindel scrambled to find a good hold on Erestor’s clothing but he was inhibited due to his fingers and Erestor’s squirming did not help. Eventually, using his good hand, he grasped Erestor’s collar and pulled the scribe off the couch, the small body falling heavily on the marble floor, missing the broken glass by mere inches

Erestor landed with an “oomph,” and immediately tried to get away, but Glorfindel’s grip was too strong.

“You don’t even deserve a cushion! Even the floor is too good for you, but it will do,” Glorfindel seethed, his hands easily flipping Erestor over and yanking the scribe’s robe up to his waist. Just as one hand was able to grasp the waistband of Erestor’s leggings, a knock came at the door. Glorfindel groaned audibly and Erestor ceased his struggles, though he was still shivering from fear and shock.

“Enter,” Glorfindel called from the floor, making no move to get up.

A soldier entered the room and quickly surveyed the scene before him but said nothing on the matter.

“My lord, I have come ahead to inform you that your troops from the borders are on their way back and shall arrive any moment now. There was an errant band of Orcs in the area and came across the soldiers unawares. The creatures have been slaughtered but there were also many injuries on our side. Some have remained at their encampment just in case and require further numbers if there are any more enemies nearby. The injured have been brought back here and are in need of medical attention. Your father is already abed, we need your permission to send more warriors,” the soldier stated and held out a piece of parchment that required Glorfindel’s signature.

Glorfindel hesitatingly stood up and grabbed the paper from the soldier. He walked over to a small desk next to his bedroom door, upon which a quill and inkpot was placed. Scribbling his name, he folded the paper up again and gave it back to the soldier.

“How many dead?” Glorfindel asked.

“Three, and a further five fighting for their lives. There are another twelve with injuries but they shall be fine once healed. There is one though, whose leg must be removed… there is no avoiding it,” the soldier said, his eyes downcast.

Erestor listened carefully to everything and believing this was his only chance, quickly stood and ran into the bedroom, slamming the doors closed and bolting the lock.

“Damn,” Glorfindel moaned. “Go tell the Healers to prepare for wounded. Send as many men as you need. Come to me if there is any further news.”

“Aye sir,” the soldier saluted and marched out the door. Glorfindel turned towards his bedroom and walked towards it.

Hearing footsteps approaching the door, Erestor backed up and ran to the windows. Opening one, he looked down. There was a three-metre drop, which he could easily make, even without a great many athletic abilities, but there were soldiers posted around the bottom. Even without knowing the situation, it was likely they would hold him for questioning after having seen him jump from a lords’ window, and Glorfindel could potentially break through the door at any moment.

Deciding there was nothing for it, Erestor pushed the window as wide as it could go and was about to climb onto the sill when he heard something he did not expect. Glorfindel was softly knocking on the door.

“Erestor?” he called out. “Erestor, I will give you this one chance… open this door now and I promise to be gentle. I will give you to the count of five to unlock the door. One.”

Erestor panicked. To jump he would surely be caught. To unbolt the door would undoubtedly result in the same conclusion.

“Two.”

Erestor climbed onto the windowsill, his robe needing rearranging many times so it would stay out of the way.

“Three.”

Erestor crouched low, ready to jump down, when horses neighed and started trotting into the square below. Looking down, the soldiers were alarmed by their presence and went to see what the commotion was all about. Erestor watched injured elves being carried on stretches bound to horses and being carried by other soldiers.

“Four.”

A flash of blonde hair caught his eye. An elf on a litter… there was blood everywhere and limbs at odd angles. His eyes were closed.

“Natahl…” Erestor whispered, and his limbs went numb. Backing off the ledge, he bent over it, trying to see from afar what was happening down below.

“Five. That is it, Erestor. I will now be unforgiving in my punishment of you. I doubt even Galshor will want you tomorrow once I am done with you.”

Glorfindel raised his leg and kicked the double doors in, the wood splintering and the hinges twisting. Glorfindel’s eyes flew to Erestor’s still form and marched over to the scribe, intending on pouring all his rage and hurt into this elf physically. But the scene in the courtyard caught his attention. Coming in close behind Erestor, Glorfindel leant over the scribe and viewed the situation for himself.

“Your soldiers…” Erestor merely breathed.

Glorfindel moved his head to the side so he could see Erestor in profile. He said nothing, but noticed Erestor’s eyes weren’t moving. Following their gaze, he saw Natahl, sprawled out on a stretcher, Healers posing over his body.

“So that is how it is,” Glorfindel whispered. Erestor came back to himself and turned his head to look at Glorfindel, the concern in his eyes could not be denied.

Glorfindel’s mouth was pulled tight in rage.

“Get out of my room,” he bit out, his body shaking as he tried to control himself.

Erestor’s eyes went wide and he slowly started backing away.

Glorfindel watched Erestor, their eyes never breaking contact as the divide between them gradually grew. With each cautious step, Glorfindel’s resolve was fading.

“GET OUT!!!” Glorfindel screamed and picked up the first object that came to hand and threw it at Erestor. The scribe dodged the item easily enough and ran from the rooms.

Glorfindel grabbed any item within reach and began hurling them at the walls, windows, furniture and floor. When he ran out of breakables, he began tipping furniture over, ripping the sheets from his bed, throwing clothes from his closet, all without any concern to his hurt hand. When his room was in as much disarray as his heart, Glorfindel finally broke down and sat against the wall, his eyes leaking salt-water tears.

Meanwhile, Erestor ran all the way to the Houses of Healing, his mind abuzz with everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. Seeing Natahl on a bed, healers hovering all around him, Erestor sat quietly in the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest as he waited, hoping it was not as bad as it looked.



TBC

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: NC-17!!!!!
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: RAPE! RAPE! MORE RAPE! ABUSE! TORTURE! General icky-ness
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)

Author’s note: RAPE! If you do not like this, DO NOT READ! I will not be blamed for your lack of judgement!



Chapter 22





Erestor remained in the corner for most of the night, a silent vigil watching over Natahl’s bed long after the healer’s had stopped tending to him. From his vantage point, the healers had disrobed him and washed his body to remove the dirt and grime obstructing their view of any cuts and lacerations on the well-sculpted body, but had yet to apply their skills further. The two healers and two assistants just looked at each other in confusion for a moment, then covered the blonde with a blanket and moved on. Erestor didn’t understand why they had yet to treat him properly, but since he was still breathing and seemed whole, he assumed the professionals knew what they were doing and believed other lives were more pressing then Natahl’s right now. But that did not stop Erestor from worrying.

The dark head jerked away from the wall as Natahl grunted and his lips twitched. Wide-eyed, Erestor watched the blonde as his eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening completely, blinking a few times to take in the light blinding his vision. Erestor was so relieved he stood up too quickly, forgetting about the object inside him and had to lean upon the wall heavily lest he fall. Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, Erestor then hurried to Natahl’s side.

“Natahl? Are you alright? Would you like me to get a healer?” Erestor asked and gently brushed a lock of hair from the warrior’s face. Green eyes swung to his and Natahl gave a huge, handsome smile.

“Erestor… Oh how I have missed you,” he whispered and grasped the slender hand to give it a kiss.

“Yes, I have missed you too,” Erestor responded carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I am dying,” Natahl whispered, a serious expression on his face. Erestor’s pale face turned a slight shade of green. “See for yourself,” Natahl urged and pulled the blanket away from his body slightly.

“Maybe I should get a healer for you,” Erestor began.

“No! You look, I want to know what you think,” Natahl pleaded.

Swallowing harshly, Erestor took hold of the covers and lifted them higher so he could see. Bracing himself for the worst, Erestor frowned upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and pretended not to notice the large erection the warrior sported. Lifting his head he looked at Natahl.

“I see nothing…” he started.

“Really? Look again,” Natahl urged.

Erestor gave the soldier a doubtful look but checked again.

“I see nothing grave… perhaps you were cut on your back?” Erestor asked, still with his head half buried under the blanket.

“Really? You do not see this?” Natahl asked and casually grabbed his cock and rocked it a bit to catch Erestor’s attention.

Erestor stood up immediately and levelled the blonde with a harsh glare.

“This is serious! I have sat for half the night on the cold floor imagining the worst! Were you even injured?” Erestor demanded.

Natahl sobered. “I was. A blow to the head. Initially it knocked me out. It was not until I was half way back to Gondolin that I woke with a horrible headache. I know there was a lot of blood on me, but none of it was my own. And I would have announced that I was fine, but the desire to see you again was too strong,” Natahl cooed and grasped Erestor’s hand. “Besides, I have had this raging hard on since our last time together… I truly feel like I will die if it is not seen to soon,” he whined.

Erestor looked incredulously at the blonde. “So you let your fellow warriors worry about you, not to mention *me*, and believe me, you will never understand everything I have been through tonight. You have abandoned your post and have potentially left Gondolin open to attack all because you cannot ‘tend’ to yourself!?” Erestor all but shouted and threw off Natahl’s hand, folding his arms over his chest.

“I CAN do it myself, and believe me I have, but one tiny image of you in my mind and it’s back in seconds… You have that kind of effect on me,” he smiled mischievously. “Besides, I am battle weary and possibly suffering a concussion. I would not be much use on the borders now given the amount of orcs there were just in this one party. They will send others in my place, it will be fine,” he soothed and slowly moved his hand to touch Erestor’s elbow.

Erestor said nothing but continued to glare. Natahl changed his expression playfully many times, trying to coerce Erestor’s forgiveness from him. Wretched, pleading, pouting, eyelids fluttering, smirking, bashful. When Erestor’s mouth quivered he knew he had cracked through the scribe’s defences.

“So, you were worried about me?” he teased, and pulled Erestor in for a kiss. Erestor blushed and gave the soldier a chaste but passionate kiss. Natahl pressed for more but Erestor pulled away.

“We are hardly in an appropriate place,” Erestor said strongly.

“So? That is not going to stop you from assisting me with my most pressing problem,” Natahl said seriously.

“Oh I beg to differ,” Erestor said back, trying to stifle a yawn. Rolling his neck and looking to the windows, he saw daybreak was not far off.

“Here,” Natahl said, lifting up the blanket again and shifting over on the bed.

“Would you stop flashing yourself at me,” Erestor said and tried to push the covers down but Natahl would not budge.

“Join me Erestor. You are exhausted and I need to sleep also. Come,” he said and jerked his head to the side. Erestor tried to size him up but Natahl gave nothing away. Sighing, he slipped off his shoes and climbed into the small bed, the warrior immediately covering him with the blanket and encircling the small elf in his arms. Erestor extended his arms and tentatively placed them on the warrior’s scar-scattered flesh. Sighing again, he allowed his mind to wander and against all odds, slept peacefully.

~*~

Erestor woke late into the day and bolted upright when he realised he had overslept.

“What is it?” Natahl asked groggily, tightening his arms around the scribe.

“I am late! I need to get to work!” Erestor said, trying to unwind Natahl’s arms from his body. Natahl smirked and only enclosed his limbs tighter, pulling Erestor closer to him.

“No you do not. You have the day off,” he said sleepily.

“The day off?” Erestor asked incredulously. “The only person who can give me a day of rest is my superior or Lord Glorfindel. Or his father. And after last night, I seriously doubt-”

Natahl put a finger to Erestor’s lips. “I may not know what happened between you and him whilst I was away, but I can only imagine it is a good thing as far as I am concerned because he appears to have backed off completely.” Erestor just frowned at Natahl’s words. “He was in here earlier to check on everyone and told me then that you should take the day easy. ‘Save your energy for tonight’, he said, and Erestor,” Natahl grinned devilishly, “I agree.” The blonde drew Erestor closer for a passionate kiss but the scribe turned his head, a dark expression taking over his features.

“Erestor?” Natahl asked, sitting up and stroked back a lock of hair.

“You like me, do you not?” Erestor asked.

“I think that is quite obvious,” Natahl smirked and pressed his hips to Erestor, his erection having only grown since last night.

“But, you like me more than just physically, right?” Erestor’s eyes were almost pleading.

“Erestor, what is this about?” Natahl asked flat out, all flirtatious pretences now gone.

“Lord Galshor has ordered me to his rooms tonight. And I know what your assumptions must be with what Lord Glorfindel and I do, but he has never taken me physically. For all intents and purposes, I am still a virgin and now… well, I just, I would rather a total stranger not know me in a way that is supposed to be special… sacred and known only to those that genuine affection exists for…” Erestor’s eyes quivered as he stared into Natahl’s.

“Well, if you would like me to have the honour, what are we waiting for?” Natahl grinned.

“No, I do not mean it like that…” Erestor said, looking down at his hands. “It is just,” he lowered his voice so they could not be overheard, “these lords have so much power. They can command anything at a whim and care not whose lives they destroy in the meantime. And I fear, forcing me to share my body will destroy me…” Erestor tried to explain.

“But… I cannot change this. I may be higher in rank than you but I cannot stop their orders, even if I wish to,” Natahl said.

“But you can! Well, we can!” Erestor spoke almost excitedly. “The sanctity of marriage is the one thing a lord has never dared to cross. If we-”

“Hold it right there,” Natahl cut Erestor off. “Erestor, I like you, I really do. And while marriage may one day be a true possibility for us, I am afraid I am not ready for such a long-term commitment just yet.”

“But we do not have to get married. If we only became engaged, they will not touch us. Can we not just… Pretend?” Erestor asked, hoping with all his might.

“Erestor… you ask for much. Even if we do not end up married, they shall still hold the same power over you. Regretful though it may be, I fear the best path for us is to continue on as we have done and trust that we are strong enough to survive any and all conditions. I know you will not find this very comforting, but I know you agree that it is the right course, do you not?” Natahl spoke kindly, but Erestor cared not for the tone.

“And you think it is right that they walk all over us and never suffer the consequences?” Erestor seethed.

“Of course not, but I am just one person, I cannot save everyone,” Natahl reasoned.

“But you could save *me*!” Erestor hissed.

“Sorry Erestor, but I will not play the role,” Natahl said flatly. “You could always sail…”

Erestor’s eyes widened and he glared at Natahl. Without saying a word he leapt out of bed and left the Healing House before the soldier knew what was happening. Stomping through the halls Erestor wandered for almost an hour before he realised he had no real destination. Not knowing what else to do, he went to his office and there Erestor worked until late in the day, distracting himself with work so he would not perceive the passage of time as much as usual. But that did not stop his stomach from clenching in fear and hatred as the dinner hour approached, or his hands from shaking when he gripped his quill.

Throwing the feather down, Erestor left his office, still trying to ponder a way out of his dilemma, and walked to his room. Deciding his stomach would not be able to handle any food he skipped dinner and instead tried to prepare himself for what would await him in just over an hour’s time. Lifting up his robe, Erestor pulled down his leggings and ever so carefully pulled the object within him out. Since he had not oiled himself in over a day, it was uncomfortable but not painful. Picking up the almost empty jar of oil, Erestor slathered himself with a generous amount and carefully stretched his opening a little more. The sensitive entrance, after so much constant use, had been forced open so much that Erestor could now comfortably fit four of his slender fingers in without any pain. He just hoped it would be enough to accommodate Galshor’s girth. But if the Lord was built anything like Glorfindel… Erestor doubted he would be able to stay conscious if plunged with such a large cock.

Changing into his oldest pair of leggings and shirt, Erestor left his room and headed for the kitchens. Sneaking into a cellar he found an almost empty bottle of the strongest liquor he could find and guzzled all of it. Putting the bottle on a bench near the door, he then quietly left the kitchens and went to the House of the Tree. After asking for directions from some soldiers, he made his way to Lord Galshor’s rooms.

Standing in front of the ominously large doors, Erestor took three deep breaths and then, with a shaking hand, knocked on the wood. He stood for almost a minute and in that time, hope rose within his chest that mayhap the lord had forgotten and was not home. But his heart plummeted when clinking could be heard behind the doors and finally the heavy wood was dragged open with a soldier on each side, struggling to pull the doors forth. Erestor gulped and tried to stop himself from shaking so noticeably.

Just inside the entryway stood an elf. From his attire Erestor assumed he was a servant, but could not tell for sure.

“Follow me,” he stated then turned around walked away.

Erestor fell into place behind the elf and followed him through the main room and into the dining area. They passed through there and continued into a semi-formal entertaining room. Pulling aside a tapestry, the servant exposed a secret door and opened it. He entered the dark hallway and Erestor, his pulse quickening with each second, proceeded a moment after. There were no torches lit in the passageway, so Erestor ran his hands along the narrow walls, trying to feel for any changes in direction. The hallway itself was not very long but it twisted several times so the light at the end could not be seen from the entrance. As his hands guided the way, Erestor felt the floor dip and realised he was being taken underground. Without realising, his hands became slick on the walls, his sweat drenching the stone surrounding him.

Light shone brightly into Erestor’s eyes as he exited and found himself in a very large room with just about every piece of furniture an entire house would need. The room had yellow walls, furnished with expensive, mostly gold coloured items. At the far end there was a bed, over to the right was a large table, able to seat eight people easily, the left side was kept bare except for cushions scattered on the ground and in front of him was a lounging area with couches and arm chairs. Erestor jumped as he realised sitting in the middle of the couch was Lord Galshor, wearing a gold dressing gown, tied loosely at the waist and casually kept open at the chest. His legs were crossed and his hands were resting on his knees, cupping a glass of wine.

“Leave,” Galshor merely said. Erestor was about to turn himself when the elf in front of him bowed and turned, sending Erestor an unfriendly smirk as he left the room. The door behind Erestor closed with a definable ‘click’ and the scribe’s stomach lurched at the sound. “Do you like how I have decorated?”

Erestor looked at Galshor blankly, the odd question clearly unerring the scribe. Glancing around the room again he saw sparkles of gold glinting off every surface, almost blinding him to the furniture he had missed the first time. Amongst the normal household furniture were pieces of a less friendly nature. Peeking from between the cushions on the floor were chains and heavy locks bolted to the floor. Against the wall near the bed, almost completely hidden by the canopy, was a giant ‘X’ shaped structure with bindings at the ends. Under the table, Erestor could see a few metal bars and could only assume a small cage was kept under there. Looking beyond that, a rack with all kinds of whips, bindings and penetrating devices lay.

Gulping again, Erestor’s chest began heaving and without realising, he took a few steps back, wanting only to get the hell out of the room and Galshor’s company.

“I can tell from your reaction that it has the exact effect on people I was hoping it would,” Galshor smirked, gaining Erestor’s attention again.

“OH? Am I the first to see it?” Erestor nervously asked, his voice shaking.

Galshor laughed.

“Heavens no. But it has been so long since I’ve had fresh bait down here.”

Erestor’s skin went cold and he looked along the walls again. More odd instruments and shelves jumped out at him, but the one thing he was wishing for could not be seen.

“There are no windows, if that is what you are searching for. No, we are far deeper underground than you could possibly imagine. You can scream your heart out down here and no one will ever know.”

Erestor’s eyes widened and he looked at Galshor, knowing nothing but fear was etched into his features. Suddenly Erestor’s stomach lurched and his whole upper body heaved as though he was about to be sick. Thankfully, since he had not eaten anything all day, nothing came actually threatened to come hurtling out his mouth, but he gasped and coughed for several minutes. Straightening up again, Erestor tried to focus his eyes on Galshor, but the vision of the lord swam in front of him.

“Strip,” Galshor ordered. Erestor’s fingers, feeling as heavy as boulders, slowly moved up to the ties at his throat and tried to grasp the cord so he could loosen the garment. His blood ran thick below the surface of his skin, making the joints hard to bend and he uncharacteristically clumsily undid the lacings far enough for his head to fit through. Grasping the bottom of his shirt, Erestor pulled it off and purposely leant forwards so his hair would drape around his shoulders, hiding some of his body from sight. He then proceeded to fold his shirt and lay it neatly on a chair by his side. Pulling off his small boots, he placed them under the chair. Expecting to have been told off by now, Erestor was surprised Galshor had said nothing but continued to sip casually at his drink. Standing straight, Erestor hesitated and looked at Galshor helplessly. The lord did not respond other than to raise his eyebrow. Erestor sighed, and with shaking hands he started to undo the lacings on his leggings, his vision once again blurring as he slowly pushed the material down his slim, pale legs.

Galshor’s top eyelids drooped lustfully as he watched more of the light skin being revealed. Erestor stumbled as he stepped out of the leggings but thankfully did not fall. He folded his pants and laid them on top of his discarded shirt. Turning back to Galshor, he averted his eyes and did all he could to stop the blush threatening to break out all over his body.

With every passing second he could feel Galshor’s eyes roaming all over his body, leaving no part untouched. Erestor shivered in disgust as he felt waves of lust flowing forth from the lord’s body.

“Move your hair away and keep your hands at your side,” Galshor ordered, his voice steady, but deeper than usual. Erestor almost jumped when he realised he had unknowingly kept his hands in front of his penis. Hesitantly he moved them away and ran his fingers through his hair as he styled all of it behind his shoulders. As he forced himself to keep his hands by his side, he felt his body beginning to sway on the spot. Feeling something trickle down his face, Erestor wiped at it with a hand and looking at his palm realised he was sweating profusely. Taking a few deep breaths, Erestor tried to calm himself, but Galshor’s next words thwarted his efforts.

“You truly are delectable… I almost wish I had you all to myself. What do you think, gentlemen?” Galshor asked loudly. Erestor frowned but movement around the room caught his attention. From behind furniture and hidden archways, three figures came into view. Erestor’s heart pounded in his chest and his face lost all colour as he recognised Ecthelion, Ecthelion’s father and Glorfindel’s father all leering at him. Erestor’s breathing sped up and he panted loudly in the large room. Every instinct in his body told him to run and on impulse, he took two steps back.

“Oh, I dare say he can foretell what we are going to do to him,” Ecthelion smiled sadistically and pulled forth a whip with steel ends from behind him and held it almost lovingly.

Erestor, feeling his body losing its grasp on reality again, stepped back further and just as he was about to turn to run to the door, two arms engulfed him from behind.

“Uh-uh, Tonight will go a lot easier for you if you behave,” Galdor said, his lips right on Erestor’s ear. Erestor was so shocked he couldn’t even feel Galdor’s hands running all over his chest and stomach. Erestor watched, standing limply in the lord’s arms as Galshor finally put down his glass and stood. He and the other lords began walking slowly towards the two elves by the door. Just as Galshor came within arm’s reach, Erestor finally gave in to his body and the world went black.

~*~

Erestor could hear voices nearby, though they were muffled. As he tried to concentrate, the words became clearer and the speakers more distinct. Light could be seen behind his eyelids but he dared not open them just yet. Trying to grasp the situation now, he felt a cold, hard surface beneath his chest, which lay horizontally, but his legs remained vertical and he could feel his feet resting on the stone floor. If he had to guess, Erestor supposed he had been leant across the table, but had no desire to look.

“Who shall have him first?” a voice asked.

“I think it is obvious, is it not? I am the one who lured him here, so it should be me,” Galshor said.

“It was my idea, father,” Galdor spoke sternly.

“Yes, but you had not planned for it to occur for another week yet. I took charge of fortuitous events and used them for this purpose. It will be me. And, sorry, old friend, but Glorfindel is your son and through his bidding it has been impossible to have Erestor until now, so we shall punish you by making you wait until last. That should teach you for having such a wilful offspring.”

“I expected as much,” the Lord of the Golden flower said demurely.

“I have a better idea,” Ecthelion spoke up. “Three days ago my sword broke and I requested to use Glorfindel’s. I still have it,” he pull the weapon from its sheath. “As you can see, Glorfindel’s hands are quite large so the handle is thicker than most. I think it would be rather fitting if we used this on his sweet scribe before we start bickering over who shall penetrate him first.” Ecthelion lightly held the blade and showed everyone present the girth of the hilt. Erestor cracked open an eye slightly and after the glare of the light dissipated, he could see how large the object was. He suppressed the shudder threatening to run the length of his spine upon seeing the sword’s handgrip was far larger than anything that had been inside him yet. If he had to guess, it was also far bigger than Glorfindel’s member. Swallowing shallowly, he watched as Ecthelion closed his fist and held it up against the handle. The hilt was only marginally smaller.

“A fine suggestion, son. I agree,” Ecthelion’s father said. Looking at the other lords, he waited and smiled as one by one they all agreed. “Who would like to do the honours?”

“I shall,” Galdor spoke quickly and eagerly grasped the sword.

“Allow me to assist,” Galshor offered.

Erestor then felt two hands slide over his buttocks and he jumped at the unexpected touch. There was a sound of clinking metal as Erestor did so, and expanding his mind to discover the source of it, realised his ankles were shackled and no doubt, bolted to the floor.

“Oh! I would say our guest is awake,” a voice said happily. A hand harshly pulled Erestor’s hair and turned the scribe’s face towards him. “Just in time,” a malevolent smile plastered on the lord’s face.

Erestor suddenly felt hands all over his body, pinching and groping his skin harshly. Erestor tried to pull away but realised his hands had been bound to the table and could only move a small amount or risk breaking his wrists.

“How about a little foreplay?” Glorfindel’s father asked and held up a whip.

“Sounds delightful,” Galshor replied and everyone took a step back.

A few moments later, a loud crack rent through the air and pain exploded across Erestor’s lower back and bottom. The scribe tried to not make a sound, but the strike was far worse than he anticipated and shouted out. His torturer waited five seconds before he struck again and Erestor found he could not hold back his voice again.

By the fifteenth stroke, the other lords demanded a turn. The power behind the whip remained fairly constant between all of them, except for Galdor. Ever the vicious personality, he struck Erestor with all his might, breaking the skin on his first hit. Erestor’s hoarse voice found new life and his scream echoed throughout the room. After five, horrendously painful strokes, Galdor threw the whip aside. Erestor sighed in relief but his back, buttocks and legs felt as though they were on fire.

“I have warmed up plenty. Shall we move on to the main event?” he asked. Everyone must have agreed because suddenly hands were on his body once more. Erestor hissed as his abused flesh was harshly touched.

Galshor smacked his cheeks a few times and Erestor tried to twist away but the lord was not deterred. After a moment, the lord eagerly pulled Erestor’s cheeks apart, revealing his puckered entrance.

“Oh, looks like someone came prepared,” he half teased.

“Good, then I shan’t need any oil on this,” Galdor said, holding the sword once more. “Though, if Glorfindel has had this elf these past few month all to himself, then he cannot be as big as he has always claimed,” Galdor said, looking at the swollen but still tight entrance.

Erestor, his mind ridden with fear and pain, leapt at the chance to appeal to the lord’s better nature.

“He hasn’t had me!” Erestor said, his voice quivering in panic.

“Oh, you’re a virgin? I find it hard to believe that Glorfindel could have left you untouched all this time,” Ecthelion scoffed.

“It is true! He has been using toys to loosen me but he has not yet taken me!” Erestor tried.

“What a pity, for you and for him,” Galdor said condescendingly and immediately placed the hilt of the sword against Erestor’s entrance.

Once again, Erestor tried twisting away but strong hands kept him in place. Tears began to flow uncontrollably from his eyes and his chest heaved several times as he half vomited, half sobbed.

Galshor cruelly began twisting the sword and Erestor cried out at the movement. The young lord simply rotated the blade but did not apply any pressure. Erestor hiccoughed as he tried to gain some control. Galshor took advantage and sharply pushed the item forth. The holler that was torn from Erestor echoed around the room and all the lords fell back a step and covered their ears. Galshor removed the tip of the hilt from Erestor, but that did not stop the inhuman wail that filled the room. Ecthelion stepped forward and grasped Erestor’s throat, cutting off the scribe’s air. Erestor choked and coughed as the strong hand crushed his neck.

Meanwhile, Galdor observed the damage done and noted with some satisfaction the trickle of blood now flowing down Erestor’s leg. And that was just from the first few centimetres.

“Now be quiet or I will never let go!” Ecthelion demanded and harshly shoved Erestor to the side as he released his hold. Erestor coughed and gasped as oxygen rushed back into his lungs.

“Maybe we should get a gag?” Galshor suggested.

“Indeed, and I know just the one,” Glorfindel’s father said triumphantly. Walking to the nearest rack, he picked up a strap long enough to wrap around a person’s head, and in the centre of it appeared to be one of the penetrative objects Glorfindel had subjected Erestor to for the past two months. Erestor’s eyes widened upon seeing the muzzle and he began squirming again.

“No, please no… not that. Not the sword. Anything but that, please,” he begged, but his throat was once again constricted.

“I told you to be quiet,” Ecthelion seethed, and held Erestor’s head steady for the gag to be put into place. As the cylindrical tipped object neared Erestor’s mouth, Ecthelion heard the scribe whisper something despairingly, but thought nothing of it. Erestor’s mouth was forced open as the hard object slid down his constricted and dry throat. He retched as his gag reflex was initiated, but he could not open his mouth any wider around the artificial cock. The strap was buckled into place around his head and Erestor’s panic levels elevated just when he thought they could go no higher. Trying to draw breath in his current state was near impossible. His throat was dry and obstructed, his windpipe inflamed and his nose was running uncontrollably. His legs strained against their bonds as his whole body contorted.

“Shall we continue then?” Galdor asked eagerly. Erestor let out a high pitched whine and frantically shook his head from side to side, but no one took any notice. Once again everyone took their positions and the hilt rested against his opening once more. Erestor wailed again and clenched his hands in frustration.

“Oh Erestor, you should be thankful I am not using the other end. And do not think that that notion has not been contemplated,” Galdor soothed sarcastically. With a sharp jolt, the soldier slammed the hilt inside Erestor’s tiny frame.

Not for the first time that night, nor indeed the last, Erestor fell into darkness once more.



TBC