Title: Dance With Me (10/13)
Author: Hare (harefic@yahoo.com)
Type: FPS
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me in any way imaginable nor am I profiting from this story.
Timeline: This is a flashback story from Lindon-Second Age to Gondolin-First Age, and back again – many, many times.
Warning: Very explicit sexual scenes, angst, rape (part 11)
Beta: Ophelialaughs & Ezimachia – The perfect 1-2 beta-punch! All mistakes are mine.
Summary: Three lives, two elves, one love.
Gondolin - First Age
The march was protracted and arduous, and Erestor ached with dull soreness. Too long had it been since he spent this amount of time perched on the back of a horse. The upcoming battle, however, for most of the journey kept his mind off his physical woes – and his concern for Glorfindel.
Erestor had seen Glorfindel behave this way before as they had participated in more battles than he cared to remember. This time he understood Glorfindel’s obsessive motivation. Revenge obviously foremost on his mind and his mood could only be described as gleeful. Glorfindel repeatedly pushed his mount through the troops, cheerfully predicting victory, describing in detail the torture he had in mind for Morgoth. But when away from prying eyes, he rebuked all conversation. Erestor attempted to speak with him every night but never received a reply. Each evening Glorfindel reverted back to his sullen ways, and a mantel of sadness surrounded him. In the morning, he transformed and would once again begin his campaign of forced cheer.
Erestor pushed away his worry and busied himself with preparations by constantly checking their supplies and vigorously participating in every officer’s meeting. Although a battle loomed, his own conflict to keep his mind on work and away from thoughts of Glorfindel raged on. He knew he must stay focused if he was to survive and keep their supply lines open. Yet, he feared being called to join the fighting as he would certainly be defeated in any one on one combat. His fighting skills were atrocious. In the midst of all these grim dealings, he found a moment of amusement as he realized he was not quite as ready for death as he once believed.
He was not surprised; however, that he constantly lost his ongoing struggle. Thoughts of Glorfindel and the revelations of their last conversation kept creeping in and distracting him from the serious matter at hand. He felt as if he had missed something extremely important when he listened to Glorfindel. As if some secret conversation took place between the two of them, but he was not present to hear it.
He knew with certainty that Glorfindel felt overwhelming guilt for being unable to save his family, and added upon this lay more guilt as a result of his participation in the kinslayings. Erestor had satisfied his curiosity on that by discretely discussing the issue with Ecthelion, the one elf constantly by Glorfindel’s side throughout his long life. Ecthelion confirmed that Glorfindel had a grossly exaggerated view of the damage he had imparted and was actually most ineffective during the kinslayings, but his grief kept him from discerning fact from fiction. Ecthelion had waged a long battle with Glorfindel about this very issue, and Glorfindel had yet to be swayed to the truth.
But those haunting words, “…and we married” kept echoing in his mind. Had his wife decided to be reborn? Would she stake her claim on Glorfindel? And then he would rebuke himself for feeling envious of this elleth, for he had no claim on Glorfindel. Not now and, it appeared, not ever. He needed Glorfindel most as a friend, but in an ongoing fit of irrationality, he held out a speck of hope for love between them.
That speck transformed to a spark of hope when Glorfindel sought him out the night before the battle began. Though he had stopped his futile attempts to speak with Glorfindel, he had refused to give up on their evenings. Each night, Erestor bundled up his sleeping gear, found Glorfindel, and slept beside him for warmth and comfort between the twilights, in silence, but still together.
That final peaceful evening, Glorfindel came to him with a reluctant smile on his face and a blanket in his hands. After settling beside a stunned Erestor, he had leaned in for a kiss; soft and tender and lingering, as if reluctant to ever part. He spoke to Erestor for the first time since they departed Gondolin.
“Do not die, Erestor. Please do not leave me.”
And then once more, Glorfindel fell to silence as the mask of pain and loss slipped back into place.
Erestor, not having an answer to Glorfindel’s plea settled instead for wrapping his arms around him, delaying his rest to bask in this too precious moment of watching Glorfindel sleep. His face relaxed and innocent looking as all barriers fell during his slumber. Erestor then gathered Glorfindel tighter in his embrace as he drifted off.
The next morning dawned all too soon announcing itself spectacularly as Anor blazed. The smell of cooking fires and the sounds of thousands of elves moving in concert greeted his awakening. Glorfindel was, of course, gone from his side and rallying the warriors once more.
As he struggled into his clothing and armor, he heard horns in the distance and a great roar went up from the Gondolindrim soldiers. As one they surged forward in answer to the call, even as their own captains frantically tried to establish order. Something was not right here as the proper signal was not given. It was too soon. But the battle had been joined so he rushed to Ecthelion’s banner just as the charge sounded…
Lindon - Second Age
He experienced his first peaceful night of sleep in weeks after being examined by Elrond, which he found ironic considering where his dreams were taking him. He knew that the battle which tempted King Turgon from Gondolin, along with ten thousand of his best soldiers, marked the beginning of the end for the hidden city. They challenged Morgoth and failed. The soldiers of Gondolin had escaped, not unscathed, but as a group much better off than the others. The battle of Unnumbered Tears was indeed named appropriately, for the implications were still felt years later in a multitude of unforeseen ways; however, for Erestor, it led to the brightest moments of his life.
That peace remained so elusive for his kind was a constant irritant for Erestor. Though life as a dark elf had often been depressing, it was constant. There was a calm order to living day to day with little variation combined with little freedom. When recalling his life, it seemed that since joining the Noldor he was either preparing for a battle, involved in a battle, or in fear of the next battle.
Oddly refreshed, for the first time in many months, he dressed and departed for another long day of conducting business for Elrond and willingly day dreaming of the defining moment of his life…
Gondolin - First Age
Erestor blindly followed a banner of Gondolin, barely able to keep it in sight with his wounded horse and tear-filled eyes. Panic filled him, as he had long ago lost sight of Glorfindel in their scattered withdrawal from the battle. It took all Erestor’s skill to manage his failing horse.
Some vicious betrayal had occurred and the alliance of elves and men and dwarves was defeated with combat barely begun. The dark minions had outflanked and outnumbered them and the result was worse than a massacre. Even now his mind balked at the scenes he had witnessed and the sounds of death still rang in his ears. His skills as a strategist were sorely tested in the ensuing melee, and he was the first to call for their retreat. An escape made possible only by the valiant bravery and sacrifice of men.
Only one thought pushed him forward now. He must find the one he loved. His countenance further strengthened the farther they moved from the carnage, and as his eyes slowly cleared, he earnestly sought that shining mane of blond hair.
The wild panic of retreat slowly gave way to exhaustion, and the elf-warriors of Gondolin wearily fell from their mounts, most too numb to move from the spot where they landed. Grief-laden laments filled the air, and slowly they responded to their captains and moved to establish a safe perimeter. Duty, a will to survive, and protection of their new High King outweighed the burden of grief and shock.
Erestor, however, never stopped moving. He passed his horse to a young ellon and performed a whirlwind surveillance of the camp. The anguished howl which had burst forth from Maedhros, when he learned of High King Fingon’s death, rang prophetically in his ears. He would not die without ever having loved or been loved – tonight he would make sure of this. Erestor was starved for love, hungry for it, tired of merely surviving, so the mistakes of the past would be rectified this evening.
Glorfindel loved him! He knew this and had known it since the start, but he had pushed too soon. Glorfindel’s affection had always there, and the love too, but buried under the burden of guilt.
Suddenly Erestor spotted Glorfindel and sprinted to where he directed his warriors in their duty. Vile orc blood covered his blond hair, and the spilled blood of comrades reddened his armor. Erestor waited, barely able to contain himself from dragging Glorfindel off to a private area. Duty, always duty first. He seethed with the frustration of waiting. When did life happen? Why did duty and death always seem to rule the day? He choked on the unfairness of the entire situation. So many elves, men, and dwarfs to lament, so much waste and the Valar seemingly turned a blind eye to it all allowing Morgoth to rule.
Erestor followed Glorfindel around for hours, raw need piercing him. Afraid that if he left his side for even a moment, their chance for reconciliation would be thwarted forever. He would not allow this to happen. Not now. Now he understood what Glorfindel had been trying to say to him. Now that there was so much urgency he needed to throw off the stench of death and despair and find hope once more.
Finally, Glorfindel turned to him. Fear shined in his eyes, fear that had been absent before the battle. An astonished Erestor only now clearly understood. Glorfindel did not fear death or violence, but he feared love. Erestor knew better than anyone that need and commitment was dangerous and frightening. Glorfindel would be exposed and vulnerable. There would be no more hiding.
Erestor grabbed Glorfindel before there could be any discussion or loss of nerve. He pressed his hand into the small of Glorfindel’s back and steered him toward the small stream that ran parallel to their camp. Once there, he stripped Glorfindel and searched his battered form for injuries, gently washing and tending and giving thanks that the wounds were few and minor. He treasured each allowed touch as it had been much too long since their last.
When finished with his examination he removed his own clothing and curled his arms around Glorfindel’s frame, drawing it to him, making it his. With soft touches and soothing words, he calmed Glorfindel’s shivering, letting him know he would be their strength, he could let go and let himself be loved and cared for. He would lead Glorfindel through the perils of need and commitment. The time was right for him - for them both - to take another chance.
Erestor reluctantly pulled slowly away and placed his hands on Glorfindel’s face, cradling it. There was such vulnerability there, and trust. All arrogance displayed on that first night he gazed on Glorfindel’s naked body gone. Transfixed by Glorfindel’s beauty, he momentarily, could not proceed further. The sounds of the wounded, the occasional sound of normality as the cooks prepared a meal and others prepared to sleep, the laments that continued to fill the night with grief, all faded instantaneously into an insignificant background if only for this brief moment.
The spell cast was only broken by Erestor’s passion to possess Glorfindel further. He pressed his mouth to Glorfindel’s for a kiss that quickly transgressed from sweetness to deep open-mouthed urgency. Erestor pushed Glorfindel down onto his cloak. Stunned by the gentle capitulation, he laid himself on top. There was no struggle for dominance, no battle of wills, just Glorfindel’s willingness to submit.
It was such an unexpected and powerful seduction that Erestor was suddenly struck with the need to pierce the sultry body beneath him, but he banked down this need and lovingly roamed Glorfindel’s body. Previous experiences not forgotten, he laved and nipped his way to all of Glorfindel’s sensual spots. Craving intimacy, Erestor moved up and kissed him again, hard and frantic, breaking only to take needed breath before again searching out Glorfindel’s wet and swollen lips.
Frenzied, he devoured Glorfindel with his tongue and swiftly moved downward to Glorfindel’s hard and weeping erection. Glorfindel heaved upward as his body jumped in voracious reaction, his head swinging back and forth, as Erestor engulfed him whole. He pinned him down with a forearm across his belly, thwarting Glorfindel’s attempts to thrust further into his mouth. With Glorfindel’s movement contained, he was able to savor the dichotomous texture of Glorfindel’s silky skin over his steel-hard shaft as he swallowed him deeper.
Erestor moved between Glorfindel’s thighs and spread them wide, his mouth not once leaving Glorfindel. He slid his tongue back to the dark crevice, stabbing into the center of Glorfindel’s hot body, then back up to Glorfindel’s shaft, which he licked and tongued with reckless abandon, continuing this movement over and over. Glorfindel yielded to the wanton pleasure. He writhed and moaned and cried out distress at his delayed release and ultimate pleasure.
Quickly, Erestor wetted his finger and gently rimmed Glorfindel’s opening while he licked the head of Glorfindel’s erection. He pushed his finger into the now wet hole, slipping it in and out, while sucking with the same rhythm. Glorfindel’s pleas turned to screams as he thrust up strongly with enough force to choke. Without warning, Glorfindel’s orgasm erupted in a fierce sudden burst of fiery liquid which Erestor allowed to flow out from his mouth and down the crease of Glorfindel’s buttocks. Scooping up the precious liquid he slathered a copious amount on his own shaft and quickly worked some into Glorfindel’s relaxed opening.
Erestor found his way slowly into Glorfindel’s body, and he deliberately looked down into the blue eyes which stared back at him wide and glazed with passion; the vision tainted only by the pain-filled grimace on Glorfindel’s face. There was no hiding. Face-to-face, the sweet simple truth of their love was laid bare in this act. Erestor bent down to kiss away Glorfindel’s distress and pain as he continued to press forward. His own eyes flew wide as he slid further into the slick constricted entrance. Captured by virgin-tight flesh the pleasure increased, complete and devastating, squeezed and pulled deeper and deeper by the lingering spasms of Glorfindel’s orgasm.
Fighting down his own impending release, he stilled and allowed himself an instant to gather his will for he wished this moment to last forever. Finally he removed himself to the tip before clenching his muscles to firmly enter again as deep as possible, all the while biting and kissing Glorfindel on any patch of flesh he could reach.
Glorfindel moved with him, picking up the rhythm, joining with him in this ancient dance; fast, slow, fast, the beat changing as he roughly penetrated Glorfindel’s body again and again. Glorfindel’s rigid arousal was trapped between them begging again for release. Blood boiled hot through his veins, and his entire being exploded as he released powerfully into Glorfindel’s body. The bliss of the moment overwhelmed him, and he fell down on top of Glorfindel, panting hard, teetering on the edge of consciousness.
Arms sure and comforting surrounded him and velvet strokes caressed his body. He felt a curious sense of power so lacking in his life but now alive as a result of this one instance, and he was awed with a raw affection for Glorfindel. Never before had they shared anything as intimate and profound as they did now. Reluctantly, he slipped from Glorfindel’s body only willing to do so safe in the knowledge he would soon return.
Slowly, he lifted his head to gaze at Glorfindel and gently brushed a tuft of sweat-slick hair from his forehead. The feeling of overpowering love thrilled him, and he gripped Glorfindel close to him, fiercely but tenderly, as they drifted off to sleep.
The following morning, he awoke fitfully but settled down at once when he found himself still cuddled in the tight comfort of Glorfindel’s embrace.
Lindon - Second Age
Alone in his office with his unbidden thoughts, Erestor abandoned his normal stoic self and allowed a broad radiant smile to light up his face as he recalled that wanton act of pleasure and the following morning. Odd that something which occurred so long ago still held such a vivid spot in his memory. The excitement he experienced when waking to find for the first time that Glorfindel had not fled from his side still thrilled him. Even though they had just experienced a painful defeat, this new development allowed him to face the tragedy and reign in his grief.
To this day, Glorfindel’s face, relaxed and vulnerable and innocent as he slept, was the face Erestor recalled whenever he allowed himself the luxury of remembering those times. It was a memory filed away but rarely brought out even though it marked the beginning of one of the most beautiful times in his long life. Their relationship blossomed from that day forward, and they were practically inseparable. Glorfindel even joined him and worked on construction of the secret passage.
Rousing himself Erestor picked up the parchment he had dutifully scribed and left his office to tack it to its proper place. Elrond decided that the upcoming marriages of Celebrimbor’s daughters should be heralded to the city. A joyous occasion, to be sure, yet he did not care for bonding ceremonies…with one exception. That exception particularly stood out in his mind, and as today was his begetting day, he grudgingly allowed himself to remember the fine event so long ago…
Gondolin - First Age
Erestor marveled at the transformation of the hall, though he was not surprised at the ostentatious decorations which awaited the wedding party. A human male and an elleth were married on this day. The occasion so odd it brought out every possible opinion over the last year while Tuor courted Idril. Odder still that the elleth happened to be the only child of High King Turgon.
Turgon had taken to Tuor immediately and happily approved their union. Erestor did wonder if Idril had joined so quickly with Tuor to avoid the hardship presented by Maeglin, who constantly pressed his unwanted advances on her. But Idril had assured him she married Tuor simply out of love. High King Turgon seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary with their pairing and spoke of naught but when he could expect his first grandchild. It seemed greatly unfortunate that the high king could not find this same acceptance for other unusual relationships.
Maeglin now sat at a table glaring at the happily gathered guests. Anger shone from his face and its source was clear. No hope existed for him now that Idril was married to Tuor. Erestor had never been fooled as to the source of Maeglin’s attraction for Idril. Love was not involved. Maeglin hunted power and saw Idril as a means to an end. He intended to rule Gondolin and sought the quickest route to his goal. Ironically, it was the high king who blocked his advances. Turgon’s obsessive desire for propagation stopped Maeglin when Turgon proclaimed he thought those too closely related by blood would be Valar-prevented from bearing children. Idril was clear also. She despised Maeglin, and Erestor did his best to encourage her feelings.
No matter. Proper decorum dictated that Maeglin must be invited to the wedding. Luckily many elves were in attendance so his face would be well hidden behind other quests. Erestor had, he realized, been holding his breath waiting for an outburst from Maeglin and only relaxed when Tuor and Idril retired for their wedding night adventures. Somehow Maeglin managed to contain his madness, which Erestor knew broiled beneath the surface.
Contrary to his other wedding experiences, this one sparkled. He sat beside Vespula, gossiping about the various elves in attendance while Ecthelion danced with his daughters in turn. Glorfindel found his first dance partner hours ago, and had not rested since. This celebration, however, was much different from one he sat through years ago. There was no need for resentment or jealousy now.
His eyes drifted to Glorfindel who commanded the dance floor as he commanded his House. He moved with an enviable grace and smooth stride. Before long, Glorfindel’s eyes found his and with a wink he twirled his current partner off. Erestor smiled at Glorfindel’s performance which was for him alone. Aye, this time was different. He knew he would occupy Glorfindel’s bed this evening. He knew he held Glorfindel’s love and attention. He knew he would pleasure Glorfindel tonight, and it would be his name that sang off Glorfindel’s lips as he found release…
Lindon - Second Age
A wicked smile played across Erestor’s face as he recalled that night. Glorfindel had indeed sung his name that evening many, many times. His grin faded, however, as he approached a door, and he hesitated outside the healing wing. Today, fifteen ellith had simultaneously begun to labor and every available healer was summoned to assist. He could hear their moans of pain and frequent cries, as well as the soft murmuring words of those who held their hands.
Erestor wrung his own hands as indecision stalled his entrance into the rooms. He held important business for Elrond yet he seemed rooted to this spot by past memories. He was not present at the birth of Idril’s son but Eärendil’s birth had been successful, and she flourished as a mother. Her son was the happy recipient of her love as well as a loving father, grandfather, and friends. He knew Idril would approve of Elrond, her grandson, and his great skill as a healer. She herself spoke to him often of taking up that calling.
As his nerve failed him, and he moved back toward his office, Erestor refused to dwell on another birth gone horribly wrong. The mournful entry of two elflings who were born this very day almost sixty years earlier. Children born on his begetting day, a day that seemed destined to occasion so many sad memories…
Gondolin - First Age
Eight years after the birth of Eärendril and many decades into their relationship, Glorfindel, on Erestor’s day of begetting, threw him a party. That his begetting day also fell within the week of the Gates of Summer festival gave Glorfindel the excuse he needed for extended celebrations, and Erestor completely enjoyed his day. He was pampered and treated to an array of special treats, mostly of a physical nature.
The day began with a steam bath, which obviously required much physical labor from Glorfindel’s assistants. Erestor, fully appreciating their hard work, rollicked and luxuriated in the muscle-relaxing heat until Glorfindel’s hand roamed around his groin once too often. Slippery with oil, he wrestled Glorfindel over the side of the bath and took him with no preparation and nothing to soothe the way but the oil which clung to his erection. The heat of the bathwater faded to nothingness compared to the heat which had surrounded his shaft.
Following their bath, Glorfindel guided him through an extensive tour of the gardens surrounding the House of the Golden Flower. Erestor learned, that day, how knowledgeable Glorfindel was regarding plants as he named and described each blossom.
A perfect day for Erestor always included time spent in a library, of which Glorfindel was well aware. So today Glorfindel arranged for their lunch to be served there. Erestor roamed the shelves and was not able to stifle a screech of glee as he spotted a rare copy of “Chatterings”. He immediately sat down to read this long sought after book, and only reluctantly set it aside when confronted by a very naked and very aroused Glorfindel. In short time, Glorfindel was bent over the library desk and Erestor slipped into the still relaxed opening aided only by spit and stamina. This time he relished the moment and drew it out, waiting for Glorfindel to implore for release. Glorfindel, he found early on in their relationship, was never too proud to beg, and raised the crescendo of his pleadings to new heights this afternoon. Knowing the ruckus they made caused, Glorfindel’s continuing blush, as they later walked through the halls greeting member after member of his House who all wore the same knowing smile.
Still more surprises greeted him as Glorfindel dragged Erestor off on a mysterious adventure through previously unknown tunnels outside the house, secret passages through the home, and ending their journey upon the roof where he was fed once more. Glorfindel served dessert on his knees when he devoured Erestor whole.
Now, here, outside on the side terrace, twilight fell and the heat of the day waned as Erestor sat content and surrounded by friends. Several empty bottles of wine lay strewn around the area as a testament to their activity these last few hours. Vespula and Ecthelion sat to his right, Idril and Eärendil to his left, the tiny elfling fast asleep across his naneth’s lap. Several other friends, similar in nature as he and Glorfindel, joined them.
Erestor lounged on a long couch, his back warm where it rested against Glorfindel’s chest. The heat and steady breath of his lover as well as a head full of wine lulled him into a contented state. Erestor’s final gift stood before him.
Glorfindel’s young cousin, Lindir, stood wide-eyed and trembling. He was to present Erestor’s final gift, a gift of song. Having reached his majority, Lindir decided upon the occupation for which he was named. The young minstrel accepted his first commission, which happened to be from Glorfindel. A commission to prepare several songs for Erestor’s begetting day, and the time had come for Lindir to deliver.
Eyelids drooping, Erestor smiled warmly at Lindir, hoping to give him quiet comfort and encouragement. Glorfindel, being full of spirit and wine, was not similarly inclined and bellowed out his comment.
“On with it, dear cousin!” And not waiting for Lindir to begin his song, Glorfindel started his own.
“To Erestor on his begetting day we do celebrate! And if you do not begin soon we shall copulate!”
“Quickly, Lindir!” shouted Ecthelion. “Commence your ballad now before the lout attempts to croon once more!”
Amid the responding laughter, Lindir’s small but penetrating voice heralded the beginning of his first song…
Later that evening, Erestor and Glorfindel sat in bed naked and sated from their long day of adventures. Erestor turned the paperweight over and over in his hands. He marveled at it and could not remove his eyes from the gift. He had thought Lindir’s songs his final gift.
He was mistaken.
Finally, he lifted his eyes to Glorfindel who watched him intently, a small quirky smile flitting across his face.
“A romantic.” Erestor announced, incredulity lacing his speech.
“I will deny it for eternity.”
“But I have the proof in my hands Glorfindel. You are a certified romantic. Did you carve this?”
“Aye.”
Erestor examined the paperweight again. It was appropriately weighted and crudely done but the time invested could not be ignored. The small petals of the flower were whittled to imperfection but recognizable. And the sun with its multitude of rays painstakingly carved in the middle of and amongst the petals of the flower. The entire piece was painted a brilliant gold. The magnitude of the gift awed him and he struggled to contain his emotion.
Erestor lifted his eyes once more to gaze at Glorfindel, silently asking for an explanation.
Glorfindel turned serious. “You are my Anor, Erestor, and I am your flower. Like the sun’s flower, I live only at your whim and through the day I turn myself, following you, always to face you. I flourish only when your warmth shines upon and surrounds me.”
Erestor painfully swallowed past the lump in his throat. Glorfindel open and unguarded declaring his love for him threatened to be his undoing. Words that had once been the enemy now soothed away any lingering pain of their long-ago separation.
He was lost when Glorfindel reached for him, bringing him to readiness with the ease of familiar lovers. Glorfindel’s tender homage calmed him into a languished state, and he settled in for a slow release. When Glorfindel rolled away and arched his back presenting himself, Erestor swiftly responded and moved with him. With gentle hands, he parted Glorfindel, revealing the coy small hole still slippery and smooth from their prior loving. Erestor joined them quickly as he rode Glorfindel slowly and easily and lazily brought them to a silent mutual ecstasy and quick slumber.
A knock on the bedroom door roused him abruptly and he sat up confused.
“Adar? Adar? May we come in?”
Erestor reached out for Glorfindel. His dead children were calling for him, but the bed was cold, and when he realized Glorfindel had once again left him alone so did his heart turn cold…
Lindon - Second Age
Wiping at his eyes, Erestor awoke groggy and befuddled. His dream and reality finally separated when he realized his twin sons stood beside him and peered at him nervously.
“We apologize for interrupting, Adar,” Figwit said hesitantly.
“And we know we are not to disturb you while you are in your study, but…,” added Faelon.
By this time, Erestor was on his feet, stalking towards his sons. “Then why have you come here against my known commands!”
“Adar, please, Lord Elrond sent us to summon you to his side. A visitor of some renown has arrived, and you are to meet Lord Elrond in his study immediately,” whispered Figwit.
Erestor dismissed his sons with a wave of his hand. “Leave me and deliver a message to Lord Elrond that I will arrive momentarily.”
As his sons hurriedly departed, Erestor sighed, straightened his clothing and hair, and dragged himself down the hallway to attend to yet another of his mindless duties.
Parmasambe
Library of Imladris
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.