Title: Dance With Me 5/13
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 best 1-2 beta-punch!
Summary: Three lives, two elves, one love.
Lindon - Second Age
With a groan Erestor awoke from his vivid dreams. His body boiled hot and the damp sheets were restrictively twined around him. Struggling determinedly he extracted himself only to realize the covers were not damp from sweat alone. Horrified, he bolted up and raged around the room, stripping off the linens and flinging them to the floor before efficiently putting on a clean set.
Erestor stalked into his washing area and scooped up some cold water. Its frigid temperature caused him to tremble. Catching a glimpse of his face in the mirror, he let the water sieve through his fingers back into the bowl. What peered back at him was ragged and gaunt, pale and lined, grim and sullen. He barely recognized himself. Shaking, he traced what appeared to be the beginnings of a permanent flaw from his hairline to the outside corner of his eye. The skin below his eye looked bruised and hollow. He was being tested for some unknown reason and clearly he was failing.
Why did these unbidden thoughts continue? Elrond, he knew, would help if he but requested it. The young lord was not only shaping up to be an excellent leader, but an excellent healer as well. But Elrond had enough worries without him adding to those problems.
Though Erestor suspected there would be a specific ending to this torture, he could not fathom when it would occur or what it might entail. He did know that rising from his bed every morning and continuing his work became more difficult, and Elrond would not be fooled or tolerant of it for much longer.
A sob escaped from deep within his chest as his control momentarily faltered, but he quickly stifled the impending emotional scene before it could gain momentum. Erestor silently chastised himself for his weakness all the way to his office.
Setting up his notes, Erestor waited for his lord to appear. His small office was attached to Elrond’s. Erestor intentionally kept it sparse, the walls were a dull white with no decorations, his shelves were unused with the exception of the few books he needed for occasional reference, an old desk rescued from a rubbish pile, a hard-backed, cushionless chair, and files for parchments and scrolls - a reflection of his own outlook on life. Elrond once gifted him a potted plant, but it failed due to lack of light from the one small window and Erestor’s neglect. There was only one personal item in his office and Erestor ignored it when possible. The sentimentality connected with this object forced him to keep it. He could not part with it though daily he cursed his foolish attachment.
It suited him that the Elrond rarely spent time in his own office. He was not only Gil-galad’s herald but also a trusted counselor and friend, and so he was most often found with the High King, only visiting here for a mandatory weekly meeting with Erestor.
As his personal assistant, Erestor kept track of all correspondences, replying to those for which he had authority and presenting to his lord those which required a more delicate touch or more authority. They met once per week to determine the course for the next seven days and then Erestor was given leave to handle the matters at will. At length Elrond arrived, and Erestor rose to greet him.
“Good morning, Erestor. Thank you for being prompt as usual. I have an ambitious schedule today and need to conclude this quickly before our meeting with the high king.”
He sat, gestured for Erestor to sit, and began shuffling through the papers.
“Yes, my Lord. I have taken the liberty of arranging the correspondences in order of importance. The top document is from Celebrimbor. He brings joyful news regarding the betrothals of his two daughters and requests your herald on this happy occasion. The next is a dispute between two neighbors over property boundaries, and they request your intercession. We also have a serious problem with the mortar at the southwest side of the palace which requires immediate attention. I mention this because I am suspicious we may have been the victim of inferior craftsmanship. The repairs were completed merely twenty-five years ago and already these walls are in need of serious repairs. Mayhap there is some previously unknown reason for these problems; therefore I request your authority to allow a thorough inspection. ‘Tis a light week so far, my lord, and these represent the total correspondences we have received.”
“Excellent news. I will contemplate these first two until mid-week. At that time I will hear your views on these documents and a decision will be made. Now, the repairs. It is time I raise your authority on these issues. War is coming, Erestor, and I have little time to contemplate matters such as these. Henceforth, you may attend to these problems directly. Please draft a document for my signature and then distribute to the appropriate staff. Make it clear that none are to approach me with these concerns unless they have first gone to you.”
“Yes, Lord Elrond.”
Elrond rose, circled the desk, grasped him by the elbow and pulled a startled Erestor to his feet.
“Tell me what troubles you my friend.”
Taken off guard, Erestor stuttered his reply. “I am well.”
“Are your worries so fierce that you are forced to attempt deceit?”
The accusation, correct and brutally stated, dizzied Erestor. His respect for Elrond almost forced him to spill out his confession of anguish and pain. Instead he opted for misdirection.
“My Lord, please, we must hurry or we will be tardy for this conference.” He cringed at the pleading he heard in his voice.
Cupping his chin tightly and forcing Erestor to face him, Elrond responded. “You are correct. Haste is a necessity at present. But know this and heed these words. I see evidence of a serious problem and we will speak on this soon. Do you understand, Erestor?”
Erestor nodded and stifled another sob when Elrond finished the conversation by extending a gentle finger, which pushed a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. No one had dared touch him in such a long, long time and that one simple act moved him so greatly he flinched away, fleeing from any emotion and the elf who threatened to expose his secrets. Elrond stayed with him, never leaving his side, and easily slipped back into talk of the upcoming meeting, and softly murmured information on what today’s encounter would entail.
They rushed into the room as High King Gil-galad brought the leaders, counselors, and strategists to order. Elrond took his seat at the right of Gil-galad and Erestor sat in his unnoticed position at the back.
Settling in, he brought forth his writing utensils for note taking. His duty was as Elrond’s scribe, leaving his lord free to participate in the discussions and decision making. He would dutifully record every word uttered.
What Elrond did not know was that Erestor had lived and relived meetings similar to this one well before most in the room were birthed. Ever skillfully, he would add his own thoughts to the notes, interjecting strategies he felt would be appropriate or useful for scenarios discussed. Only once had he been questioned on these additions, and that was by Elrond himself. Unbeknownst to Erestor, Elrond and Gil-galad compared notes taken by their personal scribes and on that particular occasion it had been glaringly obvious that Erestor documented more critical information than Gil-galad’s scribe, Borondu. He sputtered through an explanation that both secured his secrets and prevented Borondu from reprimand. Somehow Elrond accepted his justifications, at least on the surface, but since that time he rarely supplemented the notes, only inserting information when he saw a critical point missed by one of the high king’s tacticians.
This meeting crept along like all before as each point was argued and examined. The comments and recommendations were admirable from a group with little to no actual participation in warfare for they gleaned most of their knowledge from books and tales. From the high king to the lowest ranking amongst them, their lack of experience was obvious, but Erestor did not despair. Skill at battle had not prevented better prepared elves from losing the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, nor did it prevent the fall of Gondolin, a city protected by the most seasoned and successful warriors on Middle Earth. Though this group lacked experience, they had the benefit of learning from their elders’ mistakes. Still, at every meeting one would voice fear, fear that their inexperience created a serious burden on their preparations to face evil foes. Doubts were expressed and ideas put forth on how to overcome this handicap, and every meeting Erestor would remain silent.
Gil-galad met the eyes of those assembled round the room and all were drawn to his commanding presence and heeded his words.
“We have moral cause on our side, and I am proud of the leadership you have all exhibited. We are disciplined and possess a superior army; our communities believe in our strength and are firmly on our side. Never shall we forget all that we have learned from our fore bearers. This is a time for strategy and planning, for careful planning will lead to victory. We must not forget that war is full of deception, and the evil which threatens us is the master of this. Strategy is our best defense to ruses. Our question this day is one we have discussed before. Do we take this war to Sauron or do we entice him to our own ground?
Cuilclor, a strategist, was the first to speak. “We are strong, my liege. Our power will overwhelm Sauron and force him into blunders we may seize upon! We must take the battle to the Black Gate.”
“Nay,” interrupted one of the Captains. “Those who have bravely infiltrated the dark lord’s minions have returned with tales of their might. We must consider a defense, one that renders us invisible and able to attack the dark forces with stealth and surprise as our advantage. This position will force advantageous blunders we may then use to bring about the defeat of Sauron.”
The strategy battle was well joined as each shouted his opinion on the subject. Erestor hid a small smile, his first in weeks, as he reflected on the youth of the leaders. He prayed they would bring the same enthusiasm and intelligence to the battlefield, for evil was a strong foe and history recounted bleak stories to counter every tale of hope.
Gil-galad swiftly brought tempers under control and adjourned the meeting, and Erestor made his way back to his office to copy the notes into something legible. His lord required their completion no later than the morning after each session. This day was always a long and tedious one.
Unfortunately, his lack of rest and nourishment found him occasionally dozing and his mind wandered back to days he would much rather forget…
Gondolin - First Age
Erestor knew he behaved in a trite and childish way, but he had adopted a new tactic for handling his Glorfindel problem – avoidance. Foolishly he had allowed himself to fall in love and now faced the consequences. Even though Glorfindel appeared to have forgone other lovers during their short time together and had granted Erestor more than one brief encounter his behavior continued to be erratic and unpredictable. And so Erestor purposefully kept his distance. It was not difficult as Glorfindel’s duties kept him busy training and running his household. When Erestor thought on it he had realized that their past encounters were not by chance; it seemed their friendship operated by scheduled appointment and not happenstance.
For three weeks he concentrated only on his occupation. He had excused himself from the weekly invitations to join Ecthelion and Vespula with complaints of a mounting workload, and he deliberately stayed away from officer’s night at the Hide Away. He had truly cut himself off from all contact with Glorfindel and rationalized away any pain felt from the separation. He had spent most of his life alone and he could be alone again.
“Master Erestor.” The voice brought Erestor out of his musings and he looked up to face the intruder. “I have a summons for you.”
The young elf strode forward and handed the parchment to Erestor. “And I have been instructed to remain with you until you have opened and read the orders.”
“Who are these orders from?”
The elf merely stood unanswering.
“Well, I have no time at present to attend to this. Return to your duties.”
The soldier nodded his understanding, stepped back to the door still facing Erestor and he fell into an attention stance.
Astonished, Erestor’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the young elf. “Your duties, soldier. You are dismissed!”
“My duties currently require me to stay with you until you have read the orders. I will remain until that has occurred.”
“This is too much! Remove yourself from my office at once!”
Erestor felt his ire rise as the warrior merely remained as he was, waiting and watching. Angrily, he snatched up the parchment and tore off the seal.
“Fine! Look I am reading it! Aye, aye! Such important matters, I am sure.”
He made a show of reading every line of the orders which were nothing more than a requirement for him to attend some exercise sessions. He had been lax in his training and his inattention to sword and bow skills was noted.
“Tomorrow! Nay this is quite impossible. We are in the middle of harvest.”
Hastily, he scrawled a response, poured and stamped a seal, and motioned the soldier forward. “Deliver this to the one who sent you on this errand.”
The young elf shook his head. “My apologies, but if you note the seal on your orders you will recognize it as coming directly from Lord Ecthelion. I have been further instructed to refuse any response. You must speak directly with your lord.”
Performing a sharply executed about face the elf strode out of the office, leaving a speechless Erestor in his wake.
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.