bold is used for emphasis
Chapter 20:
Ethuil, Imladris, 2818 T.A.
As the door opened Erestor glanced up from his book, expecting that Sídhiel had forgotten something. But to his surprise there was a blond he did not recognize staring at him. Finally, Lammaen broke the awkward silence and Erestor instantly recalled the Mirkwood advisor, and groaned audibly. That did nothing to dissuade the drunk and arrogant advisor who could not fathom that the elf he desired did not return those feelings. Unbidden, he moved to sit in the chair beside Erestor’s bed and blithely made conversation laced with innuendo. Completely oblivious to Erestor’s increasing discomfort, Lammaen moved to sit on the edge of the bed. The darkling elf’s mind whirled, gauging how best to incapacitate Lammaen without grievously re-injuring himself.
After rushing the advisor out of the office, Sadron became suspicious that the blond had not left the healing wing as requested. Quietly, he walked down the corridor toward Erestor’s room. Before he opened the door, he heard voices; neither one was Sídhiel’s. Becoming increasingly concerned, the healer knew he could not resolve the situation unaided, so he raced to the Hall of Fire where Nestoron or Lord Elrond would most likely be at this time of evening.
As Sadron rushed into the Hall of Fire, he paused momentarily, searching for his masters. Once he spotted Lord Elrond, he hurried to him and stopped with a quick bow. Immediately upon seeing Sadron and his state, Elrond assumed someone had been injured. Standing, he asked, “What is wrong, Sadron?”
“My Lord, it is Erestor…” Before he could finish his sentence Glorfindel was towering over him.
“What has happened to Erestor?” The blond had begun to feel uneasy these last few minutes, his skin almost itching as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
The young healer was nervous when faced with Glorfindel’s demanding presence, but he had been mentored by Nestoron and had it drilled into him that his word was final for his patient’s well being, no matter who he faced. His training asserted itself, and he answered easily. “One of the Mirkwood contingent… I did not catch his name. He was in the healing wing asking me to reveal which room Master Erestor was in.”
Upon hearing Mirkwood mentioned, Legolas turned from the buffet table and walked toward the commotion.
Glorfindel’s stomach lurched. What would someone from Mirkwood want with Erestor? “You did not reveal it, did you?”
Sadron ignored Glorfindel’s question and continued. “Somehow he must have determined it, without my aid, for he is in Master Erestor’s room at this moment. The worst of it is he is quite drunk and not completely rational, my Lords.”
That last was all the Elda needed to hear. Someone unstable was in Erestor’s room for an unknown purpose. He set off in a flash, not waiting to hear anything further.
Legolas spoke up as Glorfindel raced away. “I am deeply sorry. It is most likely Lammaen.” He dipped his head toward Elrond. “He has long harbored desires for Erestor, but I had hoped that he learned his lesson the last time…”
Elrond’s brow creased, but then he recalled Erestor’s laughing tale of a smitten advisor in Mirkwood who would not cease his advances until Erestor finally resorted to physically dissuading him. “Ah, yes, I remember now.” He smiled at Legolas and then turned to the young healer. “Sadron, hannon le for reacting so quickly. Please return to the healing wing. If I know Glorfindel, Lammaen will have need of you.”
Finally noting the quiet in the hall, Elrond turned to the stage and indicated that Gellon should resume playing. He addressed the crowd which had begun to quiet when the healer raced in, but had become completely still as Glorfindel raced out. “Continue on, enjoy the celebration. Everything is just fine.” He motioned to Elladan and Legolas to be seated so they could continue their debate.
The haze of alcohol had descended upon Lammaen, and he was completely incapable of reading the current situation correctly. Erestor was obviously stiff and uncomfortable, but the blond advisor could not believe he was uninterested, so he continued to press forward. “Ah you are still the most beautiful creature…” The blond lifted his hand to stroke Erestor’s cheek. “Even ailing and in these drab surroundings, your beauty is radiant.”
The blond moved closer and Erestor had to hold his breath to keep from retching at the overwhelming reek of wine issuing from Lammaen. Protesting, the darkling elf tried to move away, but his legs were trapped under the blankets that the blond was sitting on. “Master Lammaen, I do not feel well enough for company. You should leave now…”
Erestor’s voice was soft and melodic, hypnotizing the drunk elf, who could not process the words, only the cadence of them. He leaned down and began to press his lips against the ruby ones he had long desired, when he was suddenly lifted up bodily and flung toward the balcony doors.
Somehow even in his advanced state of inebriation, the blond advisor kept to his feet. He swayed and shook his head, not quite realizing the danger he was in, as he advanced on his attacker. The long years of training that all in Mirkwood endured were etched into his muscle and sinew, so his body reacted before his mind could catch up, and he lashed out at Glorfindel’s back, aiming for his kidneys.
The sight that greeted the Elda’s eyes when he entered Erestor’s room made him see red. Erestor was attempting to protest but was trapped beneath the advisor and could not pull away when Lammaen leaned in to kiss him. With a fierce growl, Glorfindel leapt and removed Erestor’s attacker from him. Doubting that the drunk advisor would pose a further threat, the Elda turned back to his darkling elf.
Erestor had never been so pleased to see Glorfindel. The angry light flashing in the Elda’s eyes thrilled him. For a moment he felt silly. He was no princess from a children’s story, needing to be rescued! But then his leg cramped severely, the pain taking his breath away, and he knew he was still weak and would have had trouble fighting off Lammaen. As he was about to thank the golden elf, he saw Lammaen advance. “Glorfindel! Behind you!” he shouted.
With no conscious thought, Glorfindel turned and struck; his first blow to the advisor’s jaw sending him reeling. The seething anger that someone dared to touch his Erestor flashed through him, and he set upon the advisor. If Sadron had not raced into the room and pulled him off Lammaen, the blond advisor might not have survived.
“Stop! Glorfindel! He is no further threat,” Sadron shouted. Finally when Erestor’s commanding voice was added, Glorfindel moved away.
His fury ebbing as his breathing slowed, Glorfindel moved to Erestor’s side, his concern overriding all thought and propriety for Erestor’s desired distance from him. The Elda sat next to Erestor and touched his cheek gently, rubbing his thumb across the strong jaw line. “Did he hurt you?”
Overtaken by the feelings coursing through his body, Erestor reached up and rested his hand on Glorfindel’s wrist, reveling in the soft caress. Sighing, he closed his eyes, and answered softly, “Nay, I am unharmed and well. Hannon le for arriving so fortuitously.”
Sadron briefly examined the unconscious elf before deciding he needed aid to get Lammaen to a treatment room. As the healer heard Erestor state that he was well, he breathed in relief. At least he would only have one patient to deal with tonight and not two. Never looking from the prone form, he spoke up. “Glorfindel, could you aid me? I need this one taken to a room where I can treat his injuries.”
When Sadron spoke, it awoke Erestor from his daze. Realizing what was happening and how easily he fell under Glorfindel’s spell, he hastily pulled back from the Elda’s touch and spoke coldly. “You should help him. I am quite well and need nothing further from you.”
For a brief, shining moment Glorfindel had dared to hope that he had finally broken through Erestor’s barriers, but they were quickly erected anew and he was pushed away yet again. He dropped his hand and stood, the deep sadness in his eyes the only indication of the hurt Erestor had once again done him.
Thranduil gradually awoke, and upon trying to stretch, realized his legs were pinned down. As recognition dawned, he smiled brightly and turned into the warm body draped over his. Running his fingers through the soft brown hair, he sighed happily and began to explore the firm back muscles under his hand. As his hand kneaded lower, moans came from the mouth that had begun to kiss his chest, and Aurvellas arched into his touch. Thranduil moved to turn the brunette onto his back. “I want to see your face, aur nín.” When light grey eyes looked up at him sleepily, Thranduil marveled at how completely he was taken by the gentle soul next to him.
“Aí, you are wonderful to wake up next…”
Aurvellas stiffened and quickly sat up. “Orc’s balls! I’m late!” He leapt off the bed and grabbed clothes from the armoire before he raced into the bathing chamber. He was back, completely dressed, before Thranduil even had a chance to catch up with him.
Before the brunette walked out, he returned to the bedside, hoping to get one last kiss. Thranduil grabbed the warrior and pulled him down. “Oh, no. You are not leaving me.”
“Your Highness… I am already late for my rounds.”
Although his formality stung, Thranduil did not release his hold. “Your morning rounds can wait.” Wanting last night to be more than a one time occurrence, Thranduil gradually pressed Aurvellas down and back so that he was resting against the headboard. “And, why the formality? Did this mean nothing to you?” He waved his arm expansively indicating the bed and both ellyn.
Aurvellas was surprised at the question, indeed at the whole scene. He had awakened with the king still in his bed, something he never could have imagined. And, now, Thranduil wondered what it had meant to him? Confusion reigned on Aurvellas’ face as he stared at the king. “Your… Thranduil. I just… you never…I am late.” Damn! He’s reduced me to a gibbering fool again. Why do those blue eyes so easily undo me? Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, hoping the action would calm him and allow him to gather his thoughts.
When Aurvellas had abruptly leapt from the bed and now could not answer his query, Thranduil became concerned. He worried that he had read too much into the warrior’s reactions, perhaps only seeing what he wanted and not what really was? Thranduil’s mind began racing and he jumped in before Aurvellas could coherently reply. “Come with me to Mirkwood.”
Aurvellas’ confusion turned to astonishment at the king’s statement. “What? But…” When it seemed Thranduil would again jump in, Aurvellas gently hushed him by placing his finger over the king’s lips. “Stop. I cannot think that fast with you near.” Thranduil playfully licked the finger pressed against his lips, and Aurvellas groaned. “Nay. We must talk and that means that you will have to behave.” The king’s naked chest pressed against Aurvellas’ side until he placed a hand over Thranduil’s heart and gently pushed him back. “That is not behaving.” Aurvellas had to chuckle at the king’s playfulness. But then he sobered. “Why would you ask me to come to Mirkwood?”
Thranduil watched Aurvellas carefully, wanting to understand the warrior. “Why? I want you near. You said you would not be a mere toy. Do you think I would just dismiss your desires and do what I wanted?”
“But… I have duties and responsibilities. I cannot just up and leave Imladris.” Secretly, the warrior was excited that the king had asked, if only… He sighed.
Tilting his head, Thranduil was puzzled by the warrior’s reaction. “I am simply suggesting we start your warrior exchange program now, instead of waiting. You and your chosen warriors return with us to Mirkwood. Himmion will stay to take your place. Once home, Legolas and our archers can come back here to join Himmion. Does that not please you?”
“You… you want me to go with you? To your home?” Aurvellas was stunned.
Smiling softly, Thranduil leaned up and tenderly kissed the warrior. “If you will have me, I would like nothing more.”
Suddenly Thranduil was flat on his back being thoroughly kissed by the strong warrior. “Aye! When do we leave?”
Thranduil grinned wickedly as he flipped them over, straddling Aurvellas. “Oh, there are things that must be done first… like remove all these clothes you have on, Aur nín.”
Chaos reigned in the courtyard. There were far too many elves and horses for the area as the Mirkwood party readied for their departure. Saelbeth did his best, but none of the warriors who had joined the first exchange group were without families, and it seemed every last family member was there to see them off. Silamothien had excused the school for the morning, so her students were gleefully adding to the confusion.
Elrond stood at the top of the steps and surveyed the maelstrom of activity when Glorfindel joined him. He did not need to look at his friend to feel the tension radiating from him. “Are you certain you wish to do this?”
Glorfindel ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. “Aye. I need some distance from him. Besides, I need to assure myself that Aurvellas is not making a grave mistake. I need to know that he will be well. What better way than to escort them to the High Pass?”
“Aurvellas is a grown elf, Glorfindel. Are you sure he will welcome this?”
“Elrond, Aurvellas is more than my second, more than a friend. He is very dear to me and I would not see him hurt.” Glorfindel was adamant that he see for himself that this sudden relationship was real.
“Do you wish for me to tell him where you have gone?” Elrond was curious how much communication had occurred between the two.
“No need. Sídhiel and I have talked and she wanted to be the one that told him.”
“Very well. I suggest you hurry. It may be hard to tell in the chaos, but I do believe it is time to depart.”
Elladan had come to like the Mirkwood prince greatly. His brother had good taste, for the prince was more than a pretty face; he had a wicked sense of humor and was a keen tactician. He and Elladan had been evenly matched in their discourse. Of course in the arena, no one could best Legolas at the bow, nor could Legolas match Elladan’s skill with the sword, though they both tried valiantly.
Quietly standing amidst the chaos, their foreheads touching so they could hear each other, Legolas and Elladan were conversing intently. “Will you tell Elrohir that I regret not being able to spend more time with him?”
Clasping the blond’s arm firmly, Elladan nodded. “I will, but we will both expect you back soon. This visit was filled with meetings and you did not have a chance to get to know our valley home. Next time both I and my brother will remedy that, if you will let us?”
“Aye, I look forward to it.” Thranduil had mounted, so Legolas knew it was time to go. “Good bye, mellon nín.” Legolas mounted and rode away.
TBC
Translations:
hannon le – I thank you
Aur nín – my sunlight
ellyn – male elves
mellon nín – friend