Title: Dance With Me (12/13)
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.
Lindon - Second Age
From the moment Glorfindel regained his memories, he approached Erestor and tried desperately to re-establish their friendship, but Erestor rebuked every attempt. Now, two years later, his almost daily confrontations with Glorfindel were the talk of Lindon. Their arguments grew more legendary with time, and both were ordered to stay far from each other. To Erestor’s dismay, Lord Elrond intervened in their last altercation, literally pulling Erestor from the room, reprimanding him, and sending him back to his office.
Sleeping was no longer a problem. Eating was no longer a problem. The anger, burning as a fast wick in a thin candle, fueled his days and left him exhausted each night. His appetite roared back to life, and he ate more than an elleth in the final term of her pregnancy. His sons had taken to hiding from him more than usual. Interestingly, the very elves of Lindon who ignored him before Glorfindel’s appearance now whispered as he walked by and seemed to hold him in some regard. Had he not been so embittered by Glorfindel’s presence, he was sure he would have found the attention amusing.
Matters went from bad to worse when he found Figwit conversing with Glorfindel one day. He had come around the corner of the tutor’s building in time to see his son laughing and staring adoringly at Glorfindel. Rage propelled him forward, and he had insinuated himself between Glorfindel and Figwit. He roughly pushed Figwit admonishing him for neglecting his studies and directed him to return to his rooms. Infuriated, he had turned to Glorfindel for yet another confrontation.
“You have no business with my son, Captain. Now, nor at anytime in the future,” Erestor fumed.
Glorfindel stared at him blandly and nonchalantly said, “And you, Erestor, cannot dictate to me with whom I may or may not converse.”
“He is my child and is not yet of age! I have complete control over his social life and forbid him to have contact with you! This discussion is old, yet you continue to seek out my children. You will stop or I will report the matter to Lord Elrond!”
“What are you afraid of here? That I might tell your children who they are? That I might tell them who you are?”
Erestor balked and he had visibly paled upon hearing Glorfindel’s statement. “You will tell my children nothing. Do you hear me?!”
“I hear you, Erestor! I have heard nothing but your raised voice and veiled threats since I returned to this place. Your children deserve the truth from you, and by the Valar, it pains me to know that you withhold it from them. To see what you have become.” Glorfindel’s voice lowered. “Your bitterness is like the venom of a viper, poisonous to all those you spit upon. I grow weary of our fights.”
“You are a lech, Glorfindel, and you will stay away from my children.” Erestor turned away, but he was stopped by the iron grip of Glorfindel’s hand on his robe. Glorfindel’s other hand clenched into a fist and cocked back as if ready to strike.
“How dare you speak to me thus! I have never dishonored any of my lovers, and I would never EVER stoop so low as to bed any elf that has not reached majority age.” Glorfindel’s face was filled with rage. “I see, Erestor, that your children are not of full-elven blood, and I see that they do not know the truth of their heritage. You have lied to them for what purpose I cannot understand, but it is plain to me that they know little of you or your life. They fear you like a slave fears his master, and they cringe when you speak to them. And yet in my discussions with them, it is clear they want so desperately to please you.”
“Figwit’s,” Glorfindel snorted as he spoke the name, “greatest desire is to follow your path and become an assistant to Lord Elrond. Faelon is enchanted by art and desires a business of candle making. Have you even seen their quarters? Books line the walls as Figwit toils to increase his knowledge and make you proud of him. Faelon has collected hundreds of scents and colors and is constantly experimenting to produce a candle so perfect even you could not resist complimenting his skill. Their innocent and unfailing love is heartbreaking, and you deserve none of it! I wonder at the idiocy of the Valar for bestowing upon you the greatest gift possible. Your behavior towards your sons is disgusting and vile, and I wonder how I ever called you love.”
“They are my children, and I shall raise them as I see fit and you will tell them nothing. You shall say nothing!“ He allowed a sneer to cross his face as he backed away from Glorfindel. “And you never called me love! Your cowardice took care of that!”
Erestor stomped away then and went in search of his sons. His temper not yet spent and if he could not control Glorfindel’s actions he meant to threaten his children into obeying him!
Still fuming because of the encounter, it was not until several nights later while dining alone in his rooms that a thought struck and a spark of hope ignited within him.
*I am free! I can leave this place with my sons. My duty is complete with Glorfindel’s return.*
The mantel of a promise made long ago now rested firmly on Glorfindel’s shoulders. It seemed obvious that the Valar returned Glorfindel for the benefit of Idril’s offspring. Erestor could depart with a clear conscience, take his sons with him, find a quiet place, well secure and away from all fighting, where the three of them could live out their lives.
He quickly finished his meal and retired to his desk. With great purpose he wrote a letter of resignation and then swiftly exited his rooms to place the document upon Lord Elrond’s desk.
Erestor detoured to his office to place a seal on the letter, and as he entered he stopped short. Glorfindel was waiting for him.
Glorfindel sat in his chair with both booted mud-covered feet up on the desk. His eyes glittered menacingly, and he toyed with the paperweight in his hand. Even in the gloom of early twilight, Erestor could see it sparkled like new. A fresh coat of gold paint adorned it.
Abruptly, Glorfindel sprung from his seat and slammed the paperweight down on the desk. Unprepared for the swift action, Erestor flinched and took a hasty step backwards. He recovered immediately though, and moved to meet Glorfindel before he could leave the room.
“This office is private, Glorfindel. Do you intend to mar every bastion of solace I have fought so hard for? Or do you so enjoy my threats that you continue to bait me with your actions?”
A small smile played across Glorfindel’s face, but his eyes betrayed his deep hurt.
“Why, Erestor? Why must we continue this way? We must find some measure of peace.”
"It is simple, Glorfindel. So simple I would have expected even you to figure it out! I am fearful of hope. Do you understand? Can you truly comprehend the pain and suffering that occurs when one's entire life is wiped out in one tragic night? I lost everything that night, Glorfindel! I lost you, I lost Ecthelion and Vespula and their promising elflings, my home, my security! Can you even begin to understand the depths of my despair? And you dare to return and offer me hope! I have no hope; it is gone, it tumbled down a precipice, and then was permanently scourged from my being by the screams of my lover as I pulled our sons from her pain-wracked dying body. You will not turn me, so desist from these actions. They are not appreciated, nor are they welcomed! My only hope is that you will depart from my presence!"
In one swift movement, Glorfindel lifted Erestor from his feet and forcefully pinned him, with hands above his head, to the wall. Glorfindel's body fully pressed against Erestor's, and his eyes shone with fury. Erestor struggled and turned his head to remove the frightful image from his sight. With his free hand, Glorfindel forced Erestor to face him, to see the sneer which had found its way to his contorted face, to feel the heat as his words spilled forth.
"My dear friend,” he stated mockingly. “Did you know that the elves of Lindon consider me quite mad? I have overheard them repeatedly fretting to one and other about my supposed lunacy. And I, for one, believe them to be quite correct in their assumptions except on one point. It was not my death or confinement in the Halls of Waiting which brought me to this state. Do you think they would find it amusing or pathetic that you are the one who has brought me to my knees? You see before you the results of your repeated rejections!”
Glorfindel pressed his advantage and crushed his lips against Erestor’s. A muffled cry escaped Erestor as he felt teeth sink into tender flesh. The taste of blood flooded his mouth as Glorfindel forced his way in kissing him deeply until it felt as if the very breath was stolen from him. He fought back as the first tendrils of desire wound their way around his shaft, and his knees shook as the long-erected walls sheltering his heart threatened to crumble. But his struggles were in vain and the kiss, which lasted for mere minutes but felt like an eternity, ended just as Erestor felt the dark edges of unconsciousness starting to fold around him.
Body weak and humming, brain hazy and jumbled, he attempted to concentrate on Glorfindel’s next words.
"Deny that, Erestor. Deny that you still feel hope for our love. Deny that your body has responded to that hope. Deny that your mind begs for hope. You cannot deny it, because you know it to be a lie!! I will not come to you again. It is up to you.
“I love you.”
Glorfindel shook him violently.
“I love you!
“Valar help me, but even as despicable as you have become, I love you as I have always loved you. But I am through begging. I am weary and I ache with despair that even though we are near we are parted. Gaze upon me, Erestor! I am here! I am not here just for Elrond but for you and me. I am here, and I AM hope! Grasp for it, Erestor. Do it now before hope truly is gone from your self-created miserable life!”
Glorfindel shoved away from him and pierced him with one final glare before stomping out of sight. Stunned and unable to bear his weight, Erestor slowly slid to the ground, Sob after sob escaped, filling the air, his hand still clung to the now forgotten and crumpled resignation letter.
It was in this state, hours later, that Elrond found him.
"My friend, what troubles you so?" Elrond hesitantly approached Erestor and knelt down beside him.
As Erestor lifted his face, he could see that Elrond was startled by the presence of a small smile behind the flow of tears.
“Erestor?”
“He said it.”
Patiently, Elrond sat beside Erestor and questioned him further. “Who is he? What did he say?”
Erestor’s tentative smile did not waiver. “Glorfindel loves me.”
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.