Title: Dance With Me (9/13)
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
Erestor stood, ruminating, in the palace corridor once again. The foolish notion that Glorfindel, after their first liaison, would declare his undying love, reject all others, and pledge his heart for eternity had died an ugly death. Erestor grimaced as he reflected on his painfully naive and simple thoughts and chastised himself for the thousandth time on how easily he was duped.
Certain that Glorfindel’s feelings were not merely a passing fancy, he had decided the risk was worth the consequences because he loved Glorfindel passionately and deeply, like none before. Love, like all poets of the Age predicted, had most certainly rendered him blind and witless. For countless years, he bore witness as Glorfindel chose partners who would ask nothing more of him than a pleasant encounter for the evening and then a quick emotionless ending. Nevertheless he had abandoned his rational mind, determined that Glorfindel would never treat him thus and convinced himself that Glorfindel had lost his heart just as he, the first moment their eyes met.
He wanted everything from Glorfindel, his heart, his body, and his fëa. Stupid words, useless talk; these were the follies that came with love. Instead he, as all others before, was a quick and disposable romp. Glorfindel made it quite clear he could never love him as he loved Glorfindel. Yet, until thrown aside and ignored he had never imagined the haunting pain of rejection. It was truly torment beyond belief.
The humiliation of unrequited love was another unforeseen outcome. Their short affair had garnered more attention than he realized, and he had taken to hiding in his rooms to avoid the whispers, and stares, and the pity.
His final night with Glorfindel occurred months ago, yet the memory still tortured his days and the pain remained as searing as on that horrible night. His life had now dwindled to a solitary path from his home to his office and back again, only leaving the sanctity of his rooms when absolutely necessary. He survived the misery, barely, out of a sense of duty to those who dwelled in the city. A mere shadow of his former self, Erestor, proud tactician, lover and friend of Glorfindel, died that eve.
Not surprisingly, Glorfindel did not seek him out, and even if he had, Erestor would have refused to speak to him. The time for listening to his former friend and lover was gone, and he meant to see Glorfindel as little as possible and certainly only as duty called.
Lady Idril’s regular guardian currently attended his wife during the birth of their elfling, and Erestor was called into service. His mood wavered not over the last few months, and he certainly had no desire to brave a conversation with his lady this day. So he loitered in the hallway and commenced his daily session of brooding, which explained why he missed hearing the soft click as the latch to Idril’s rooms opened.
“I know about you, Erestor,” came the soft whisper.
Startled, Erestor spun around to find Lady Idril gazing at him in calm perusal. She smiled a warm welcome and held out her hand.
“Come. Sit with me awhile, my protector. I have longed for a moment alone with you, yet I dared not approach you outside these walls. “
Erestor’s curiosity piqued, but he was unsure of her motive. Still, he reluctantly took her hand and followed her into the room.
Idril guided him to a lush velvet-covered chair in her waiting room, and she set about arranging tea while he unbuckled his sword belt and carefully placed it beside him. He glanced around curiously, not recalling the last time he had entered this long avoided room. Idril was precious to him, and ever since Maeglin had started his unrelenting campaign to win her hand, he frequently kept a watchful eye on his nephew for her. However, he forever viewed her as a spoiled child of a ruler, knowing full well that under her smooth exterior lurked a cunning mind. She played the game of court with skillful precision. Erestor knew her skill at manipulating those around her for petty gains and he was concerned this meeting was another of her ploys. He fervently hoped she would not mention Glorfindel.
As she efficiently laid the table for tea, Erestor broke the silence.
“My lady, truly this is not necessary on my part. Please speak your mind and let us have done with it.”
“Erestor, have you no patience? I promise this discussion will be worthy of your attention, but I am loathe to rush our time together, for you see the Valar have finally answered my pleas and delivered you to me! My ladies will make sure we are not interrupted.” Idril’s face shone with excitement, and her hands trembled slightly as she poured tea for Erestor.
“Thank the Valar that tea grows at high altitudes. Imagine life without this elixir,” Idril said with the proper amount of horror in her voice. “This is the new variety produced by Eirien, and of course she will not share her secret. I suspect she bruises the leaves and if you let the brew rest in your mouth for a bit you will detect the hint of several oils. Ah yes, there you are. Is it not perfection?”
Erestor made a show of tasting the tea, finally bowing to the knowledge that Idril would not be rushed into the discussion. He voiced his agreement that the tea was quite perfect and watched over the top of his cup as she picked up a plate and poked at the various cakes on the platter.
“A wonderful harvest this year. Such a blessed bounty, and the bakers have outdone themselves with their pastries. I can hardly decide which to try. And you, my protector? Which shall I serve you? A cream filled horn, perhaps? Or this sweet berry-filled torte?”
“It matters not. I will be content with whatever you decide for me.”
“Such deference, Erestor,” Idril intoned with an incorrigible grin. “This is unlike you. Do not be unnerved by this meeting, for it is I who takes the risk in trusting you, although I have knowledge that you will be sympathetic to my plight.”
“My lady! Truly, enough with this dancing around. Let us come to the point and quickly. I will be missed in the corridor when the guards make their rounds.”
Idril frowned, smoothed out her skirt and began.
“It all began with Eöl. He gained entry to our fair city with such ease and it triggered my doubt regarding the defenses of Gondolin. And but a few years later I began to hear the whispers and realized my fears were not singular in their existence. Others were concerned and fearful that our safeguards, which could not forbid entrance to one, would never hold against a horde of dark minions. And if our foes gained entrance then what? We would be hopelessly trapped within our own walls.”
Erestor stood, paced to the window, and gazed out on the peaceful city while he hoped Idril had not noticed his moment of panic when she mentioned Eöl’s name. Below him the streets of Gondolin were alive with its occupants.
Speaking in a hushed voice he asked, “You know my feelings on this subject. But how?”
Idril nodded and spread her hands. “I have many friends, and how I came upon this information is irrelevant, but when I first heard of your dissent regarding our lack of escape passages I knew you were the keystone to our success.”
“Our success?”
“But of course, my protector. Surely, you realize it is not just I who has started planning and devising ways to flee Gondolin if necessary. The ellith of this city have been approaching me for years. They fear for their elflings, and as I have always availed myself to our population, they do not hesitate to come to me. It is as if they sensed my openness to their fear, and to those close to me, I have not hidden my apprehension about the defenses of our city, at least not since Eöl and his darkness tainted this hallowed ground.
“But, I must take care as I am running against my adar in this matter and it would devastate him if he discovered I do not have the required commitment to his leadership. And I do have faith in him, but being close to him, I can also see his weaknesses, and in this his vision is clouded. He frequently views Gondolin from the realm of fantasy as he dreams of our home in Valinor and the wife, family and friends he lost there.
“This,” she swept her hands wide, “has become his Valinor. I sometimes fear he has forgotten that we no longer reside in that sacred place, so twisted are his thoughts. And then in a moment his eyes will clear and he will once more be my beloved strong adar. It is clear to me that he has created a web he calls Gondolin and we are all dangerously entangled. Each day he grows fiercer in his determination to repel intruders and trap those dwelling within. He has spun the web so tightly we have no escape from the shadow of death creeping along the edges. I see in your face, Erestor, that I bear old news. You have spoken these exact words for years. Is this not so?”
“Aye. It is true. Do I dare hope that your dream is the same as mine? Are you planning a secret passageway to the outside of the city?”
“It is true, and it is a dream no longer. You are the final piece in our puzzle as we have lacked a tactician, someone who is adept enough to strategize all the aspects of this venture. It is a massive undertaking and though we have detailed many of our problems we are still much vexed. Say you will join us, Erestor. Make a pledge this day.”
Erestor felt humbled at all he heard and glad at the chance to mend his ties with Idril. Obviously he never knew her true mettle and he regretted judging her so harshly without fully knowing her mind.
“My lady. I am heartened to hear you speak thus. You are correct, and though I know not how you came to your knowledge of my most feared aspect of this city, I am prepared to join you in this venture.”
Idril beamed at Erestor and grasped him into a firm clutch. Filled with satisfaction for the first time in many months, he enthusiastically returned the embrace. He would have a part in constructing a safe passage, and even if it was never used his mind would be more at ease knowing it existed. And, he admitted to himself, this project would suit nicely as a boon for his aching heart. A task to throw himself into and try to forget his pain at losing both the love of his life and his best friend in one unguarded moment.
“Our work is covert, Erestor, and though others are with me, we must tend our secret. No one else is to know about this. Meet me tonight, and we shall start our planning.”
Erestor nodded his agreement, strapped on his scabbard, and slipped out to his post. His mind already pulled up information he had stored these many years as he conjured ways to design a passage. His only fear that their construction was started too late.
Lindon - Second Age
Reluctantly Erestor rose from his bed. Another sleepless night had passed as his vivid memories worked through those long-ago years, and he was once again exhausted. This day, he would be forced to face Elrond in his role as healer. Questions he was not prepared to answer would be asked. Elrond was no fool, and he would spot any deception, but Erestor could not find it within himself to confide in anyone, let alone Elrond.
He dressed quickly, skipping a much needed meal, and hurried to the healer’s wing. Although reluctant to face Elrond, he knew it was futile to resist a direct order, and so he was bound to be on time.
The palace wing set aside for healing was intentionally open. Windows lined the walls, and sunlight streamed through the panes, setting the room awash with strong beams and warmth. It was a purposeful atmosphere designed to promote improved health and hope. Erestor sat, waited, and involuntarily slipped into a fitful doze recalling another day that dawned as beautifully as this one...
Gondolin - First Age
The day glared bright and warm and spirits seemed high in the city. Erestor lounged back against an ivy covered wall as the murmuring of hundreds of voices lulled him into a sense of contentment. He watched the elves of Gondolin mingle around the market. Elflings ran by screeching as they played mock predator-prey games; merchants hawked their fare, some calling loudly for customers while others displayed garish banners promising top quality workmanship. Erestor recalled his brief forays into the marketplaces of humans and his surprise at the similarities between the two races. The human marketplaces, however, were more prone to outrageous claims of product capability.
He finally felt his gloom lift a bit while working with Idril, so he had timidly ventured out from his self-imposed prison, hoping he could stand for awhile in anonymity and observe those for whom life still held enjoyment. Once he had lived for these lazy sunny days where all he had before him was the prospect of hanging about elf-watching and secretly peering into a brief moment of the lives about him.
He did not consider himself nosy, but he was most definitely an observer, cataloging the quirks and mannerisms of his fellow Gondolindrim. It came naturally as a result of his years of training, and satisfied his innate curiosity. And, the information he gleaned over the years was amazing - sultry glances between secret lovers, notes passed with quick hands, disputes between vendors and families, as well as the occasional random acts of vandalism and thievery. It was an eye opening experience into the behavior of elves who believed they were unobserved.
He recalled his horror at witnessing the Chief of one of the twelve prominent Houses as he smoothly picked his way through the crowd and stealthily pinched the bottoms of every unsuspecting elleth in his path. Erestor’s horror had ultimately given way to mirth as the Chief completed the gauntlet of the market without detection, and left in his wake dozens of squawking ellith intent on revenge! He had a harder time reconciling the prohibited acts he witnessed, but he decided long ago to never speak of the things he saw or interfere unless grievous harm was committed. He did, however file away all of this information for possible future use as he was an opportunist and never turned away from a possible advantage in the future.
His short but satisfying adventure into the marketplace took an abrupt turn for the worse when he spied Glorfindel and Ecthelion strolling into view. Ecthelion accompanied Vespula, whose face was set in a deep scowl. Legolas, who had always scorned Erestor for reasons unknown, clung to Glorfindel in a less than discrete manner and were so caught up in each other they failed to notice the disapproving stares of those tracking their passage. Erestor grimaced as jealousy, searing and rancid, stung him. Glorfindel guided the group toward a fruit stand where he picked up a handful of fresh figs. As he took a hardy bite from the fig, a thick clump of jelly ran down his chin. Legolas leaned in to lick off the substance, tongue darting out, teasing and cleaning at the same time.
Erestor felt his stomach tighten with anger as Legolas speared him in place with a calculated look across the market, and with a smug grin silently mouthed the word, “Mine.” Glorfindel, completely unaware of Erestor’s presence, whispered something to Legolas, flicked a coin to the merchant, and they quickly left the marketplace…
Lindon - Second Age
Erestor roused with a startle. Rubbed his eyes and recalled that unfortunately, that day had ended poorly as his jealousy at seeing Glorfindel with another lover defeated his fleeting good mood. He hoped that today, thousands of years later, there would be no similar end to such a glorious morning.
Resolved to his fate, Erestor rose as Elrond entered the healing chambers.
Smiling indulgently, Elrond motioned Erestor to sit down, but that smile rapidly turned to a firm look.
“Your exhaustion is evident, Erestor. I need not be a trained healer to witness this. And you shiver. It is clear your body is reacting to your lack of rest. Tell me, why you are not sleeping?”
“I am having dreams, my lord. They prevent my sleep.” Though resolved to the truth Erestor also decided that brevity was the key to making his quick escape.
“What can you tell me of these dreams?”
“I fear that their content is lost to me on awakening, though I must assume they are troubling.”
Elrond frowned at that statement, and Erestor held his breath. Again he had lied, but it appeared Elrond accepted the explanation.
“You are too thin, also.” Elrond proceeded to remove Erestor’s robe and tunic while poking and prodding him as if to emphasize his point.
Erestor gritted his teeth and struggled to remain calm through the examination. It was too long since his body had been touched by another and Elrond’s touch, though impersonal, threatened to crumble his resolve. He fought not to lean into those skillful hands.
Finally, Elrond stepped away, and Erestor gratefully shrugged back into his clothing. But when he glanced up, he noticed that Elrond’s back was to him and he stood completely still.
“You are a mystery to me, Erestor. You are ill and yet you conceal the cause. You are head strong and willful and quite skilled at hiding behind protocol. I know full well you will not heed my advice once given. “
Elrond turned towards Erestor, his face grim.
“Are you determined to let this illness take its full course?”
Erestor stuttered at the implication. “But they are merely dreams. Surely, I am not ill.”
“Do not play the idiot with me! You know quite well what is happening. My question remains!”
Elrond advanced on Erestor and knelt in front of him, urgency written on his face, “You are needed here, Erestor. I need you. Unless you eat and rest, your illness will advance and soon there will be no help for you.”
Stunned, Erestor realized that Elrond actually feared for his life. Wrapped up in the ongoing battle with his dreams, he had not realized the extent of their toll on his health. Though death held much promise, he knew that route was not an option at the moment.
He smiled reassuringly at Elrond. “I will follow your advice; however, I warn you that a sleeping elixir would be useless unless it is able to block all dreams, for it is these dreams which cause my restlessness. Admittedly, I have been skipping meals, and this I can remedy immediately.”
Elrond nodded. “You will take your meals with me so I may monitor your intake, and when you are finally agreeable you will speak to me about your dreams, know that I am here to listen.” Still kneeling, he gently picked up Erestor’s hands, cupping them within his own. “As your healer and your friend.”
Elrond’s words stayed with him that day. They warmed and comforted him, and he allowed himself to remember another time when another friend confided in him…
Gondolin, First Age
Another day finished and though spent in the cramped space of the hidden corridor, dark and dank and depressing, his enthusiasm knew no bounds. They were making real progress on the secret passage and his planning was coming to fruition. Slowly but surely, over the last year what was once a dream had become reality. Escape would be possible within the next few years. In addition, the hard, steady work had been exactly what he needed in his life, some worthy project to fill his time between the end of his regular duties and sleep. Anything to keep his thoughts from drifting back to the gnawing emptiness in his life.
Erestor trudged toward his rooms, filthy and exhausted, where he wanted nothing more than to fall first into bed, and then fade into a deep slumber, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened and turned.
In some perverse way, Erestor felt giddy at how poorly Glorfindel looked. He was pale, and dark circles ringed his seemingly lifeless eyes. The heart he thought turned to stone now beat heavy in his chest, and Erestor struggled for breath. Just Glorfindel’s touch still had an affect on him. Jerked from his trance, he moved away, put a look of complete boredom on his face, and found himself embroiled in a conversation with Glorfindel. Their first over the last year.
“What do you want?” Erestor asked.
Glorfindel countered with assertion. “What I have always wanted.”
“You have never opened your mouth, Glorfindel. Well, at least not to say anything I am willing to hear. So I will ask again what do you want?”
“Let us speak, Erestor. Has not enough time passed with bad feelings clouding our days? Can we not find some compromise and rekindle our friendship once more?”
It was painful speaking to Glorfindel again and hearing his attempt at rectifying a situation that ended long ago, but Erestor was in no mood to placate. He had moved on. Aye, he had lost his heart to Glorfindel, and then on that fateful night he had handed over his fëa. Glorfindel in one swift moment had crushed him, leaving him an incomplete elf wandering aimlessly. This was not something he would soon forget.
“Never! I want nothing more to do with you, and I made this clear to you a year ago!” Spitting those words toward Glorfindel, Erestor moved away with purpose.
Glorfindel remained at his side and matched him stride for stride.
“Nay. Not this time. Our friendship is worth more than the heartache of this last year. I demand but a small portion of your time.”
Erestor whirled to face Glorfindel. “Demand? Why should I even consider such a thing? Surely, you have not forgotten how we came to be at this place!”
“Just a brief moment of time. I will meet you in your rooms tonight, and I promise. Aye! I promise I will do what I must to regain our friendship.”
With those parting words, Glorfindel turned and strode away not waiting for his agreement on the proposed meeting.
Once in his rooms, Erestor paced and fretted and braced himself, determined to ignore Glorfindel. Should Glorfindel even show, for he assumed that, like always, Glorfindel’s resolve would fail and he would not follow through as promised. When at last the knock sounded, however, his conviction faltered, and with only a brief hesitation he allowed Glorfindel admittance.
Erestor marveled as Glorfindel entered with a quick shy glance his way but then purposefully marched across the room, grabbed two chairs and placed them facing one another. Still quiet, he motioned Erestor to sit. Erestor bristled at the unspoken command, but as he willingly allowed Glorfindel entrance it seemed too late to turn from the upcoming conversation.
The awkwardness of the situation caused Erestor to squirm. This was his best friend of years, and yet he could barely look at the friend he had loved. The friend he still did love. The betrayal he felt at Glorfindel's rejection was complete, but he realized he had silently agreed to this meeting because he also put his desires above reality. He knew Glorfindel turned from his lovers after one night of pleasure, and he had foolishly thought he would be spared that same fate. They reached this place because of both their actions. The blame was shared, and Erestor had hardened his heart, determined to move on and push aside the problem.
But Glorfindel sat before him, making it clear their situation would be ignored no longer. His chair stood close in front of Erestor's, so that their knees occasionally brushed, and caused Erestor to squirm for quite another reason. It galled him that his body could still be so inflamed by the nearness and the slightest touch of Glorfindel. He wanted to be outraged, but instead he felt the dullness of his senses. His emotions had ridden a terrible storm. There was nothing left to feel, except the obvious lust that currently coursed through his body, and he was disgusted by this lack of control.
He lowered his eyes and turned away from Glorfindel, as he knew the emotions playing across his face revealed too much. Glorfindel reached out and cupped Erestor's chin to gently force his eyes to meet his own, but Erestor lashed out and punched his hand away.
"I have agreed to this meeting, Glorfindel, but I did not agree to being mauled!"
Glorfindel grimaced but started determinedly. "I am grateful that you have agreed to speak with me. It is only that I need you to look at me while I tell this story. Please allow me this request."
Hesitantly and grudgingly Erestor lifted his head and gazed at Glorfindel. He placed a small frown on his face.
Glorfindel smiled one of his rare sweet smiles. "Thank you. I know, Erestor, that I hurt you deeply. It was not intentional, my friend, and if you remember nothing else this evening know this. By the Valar, I would forfeit my own life before I would ever set out to purposefully harm you. I am truly sorry for the sorrow I have caused you…caused us both. Though words will never suffice to make up to you this bane, I wish to try so you will understand. Are you willing to hear me? For once I start I require your promise to hear this to the end."
Erestor, not trusting his voice, nodded his assent as his eyes bored into Glorfindel's.
With a shaky intake of breath, Glorfindel started his tale.
"Though you are too young to remember, Erestor, there was a time when life was much more innocent. Love more often than not simply a matter of finding the correct family who had an appropriate mate. We did not always sense or experience a deep feeling of rightness when our life mate was encountered. Nay, that is a new development, something that has evolved within us.
“There was never a concern that an attraction would be missing, as all elves were as beautiful then as they are now and so a spouse was an easy commodity. During this time of innocence my family garnered a mate for me. I had gained my majority and remained wild and irresponsible yet I agreed to the arrangement, and we married as a convenience.”
Erestor shook when he heard this, but Glorfindel pressed on without interruption.
“She was redundantly beautiful, from the proper family, and willing to produce offspring. There were no other requirements she needed to fill, and I had little responsibility but to live properly, learn how to run our estates, and pass on our line. I was happy in our simple life because this was all I knew, and Caulustrea assured me often that she felt content also.”
“My life was gloriously brightened as she bore our two daughters, Faelcalad and Faervain. The twin lights of my life. Small and precious they were, dark-haired as their mother, but with striking blue eyes flecked with brilliant gold flakes that sparkled whether there was light present or not.”
Glorfindel’s voice faltered and he whispered. “I was so blessed, Erestor.”
His own brilliantly blue eyes reflected sadness, his hands clenched, but he continued his tale.
“And then Melkor and Ungoliant appeared. I had never fought before. Who of the firstborn had ever taken up arms? Oh aye, I hunted and played at learning the sword, but what need did I have to perfect the ways of killing? My family governed and produced wine and we resided in VALINOR,” he shouted.
Glorfindel rose and started a frantic pacing around the room.
“Fate, with her uncaring hand, struck, and we found ourselves in the middle of violent chaos. I could not protect them. I was clumsy and ineffective, and they perished in my arms - my daughters, and my wife, all victims of the fighting. Innocence died that day, and anger thenceforth ruled my being. I cared not for my future except that it should be short.“
Glorfindel stopped his pacing and stared long at Erestor before finally continuing.
“I can only hope, Erestor, that when you hear what I say next you will not forever loathe me.”
With a large cleansing breath he began again. “I was a willing participant in the kinslayings, slashing and setting fire to anything or anyone who dared stray into my destructive path. I comprehended none of what occurred, and when we were forced to cross the Helcaraxë I reveled in the pain of the cold and the hunger and the despair of my companions. Nightly I taunted the Valar to strike me down, for what punishment could be worse than that already meted out to me?
“But the Valar, in their unfailing wisdom, allowed me to survive the crossing and forced me to continue my life here. Time has passed slowly, and my anger has dissipated slightly. My close and extended kin, with their misguided sense of my valor, insisted I take up the mantle of leadership. The diversion and franticness of ruling my House has been a balm to my anger as I am too busy to reflect on much save duty. Too busy to remember.”
Glorfindel sat down in his chair and leaned close to Erestor.
“Then one day, you were there. Sarcastic, unkempt, undisciplined, barely able to swing a sword and certainly no marksman. You were a distraction that I was not ready to accept. I wanted nothing to do with you, yet I could not stay away!”
Erestor jumped to his feet, hands curled into fists. “You push yourself into my rooms only to disparage me! You pursued our friendship! You initiated our physical relationship! Do not complain to me any further. “
“Enough! You are purposefully refusing to hear what I am saying to you. Can you not see that I am in lo--”
Erestor, ears closed to Glorfindel’s ongoing speech, fled for the door and ran straight into one of the king’s pages. The rapidly gasping young elf stood with hand poised to knock, looking extremely pale and nervous. His eyes darted between the two elves.
“Erestor, Lord Glorfindel. Our king has sent summons to all his officers and tacticians. He demands your presence in the Hall now. It is war!”
The page darted away, and with sideways glances at each other Erestor and Glorfindel swiftly followed.
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.