Chapter 10
“Happy Begetting Day!” Cirilea and Tamarin called, finally wading through the many other party guests to Erestor, their son Camrinc tucked against Cirilea’s body.
Almost the entire peasant population had turned out to help Erestor celebrate his day of maturity in the Town Square on the lower levels of Gondolin’s Golden Flower House. Erestor appreciated their presence more than the meagre gifts few could offer, his heart still heavy from the night before.
Earlier that day he had gone to his father and gave back the ring, merely saying that Silindrical had turned down his offer, though it was not long before rumour spread and Earane found out the truth. Watching his son sadly dress for what should have been the happiest day of his life to date, his heart bled just as much as Erestor’s.
No amount of consoling or congratulations could drag Erestor from his gloomy thoughts. And though the party appeared to lift his spirits, Earane could tell it was a farce. His idle banter with old friends was overly polite and strained at best. It did not help that Silindrical’s enraged father interrupted the merry-making, blaming Erestor for all that would now befall his daughter.
Stunned, Erestor resembled a fish for several moments, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. Linwelin took no notice of Erestor’s innocent, shocked and hurt expression and continued to accuse him of conspiring against his daughter while he gained favours with a Lord by warming his bed.
Unable to watch his son being desecrated at his own maturation ceremony, Earane made to step up, however, Lord Glorfindel and a handful of palace guards then came stomping through the crowd to where the Elf was making all the ruckus.
“Linwelin, I must insist you leave now before you make a fool of yourself,” Glorfindel strongly warned.
“No! He!” Linwelin threw an accusing finger at Erestor, “has betrayed my trust and my daughter. And he has bewitched you, my lord!”
“Has he now?” Glorfindel asked in an airy tone.
“Indeed. See the way you immediately jump to his defence? Once you were on the other side of the conflict. Black magic is the cause! We all know how long he spends in the library each day! He has had easy access to the books everyday for the past twenty years! I tell you he is using them to his own devious ends!”
“Erestor!” Glorfindel gasped in mock alarm. “Is this true?”
“No my Lord! I would *never* dare go near those dreaded books,” he said adamantly.
“Well, in that case, I shall have to revert back to my original theory.”
“And that is…?” Linwelin prompted. Earane, meanwhile, had moved to his son’s side and placed an arm around his shoulder in love and support.
“That your daughter is a maniacal, devious, power-hungry strumpet who deserves everything she has and will get as a harlot of the court!” Glorfindel stated, his words building with passion and volume as he went on.
Linwelin was about to protest, but Glorfindel continued.
“More than that, I believe it was *you* who brought her up to behave this way. And that it was *you* who urged her into a relationship with Erestor and later myself. And that *you* would then use whichever union she chose to also be counted among us Lords, as father of the bride!”
Linwelin seethed with rage and bared his teeth. “Wouldn’t you!? Look at the squalor we live in! You depend upon us to survive, yet you treat us, the peasants, as dirt! If you lived in these conditions then I assure you, you would also strive for more and would do anything in your power to do so!”
“Even use your own daughter?”
“If necessary!”
“Yet, only you have done this. No one else has… Only you.”
“They do not have the guts… But had I succeeded… Oooooh! They would be green with envy for sure! I would have been their god! Someone to worship for having the courage and ambition they lacked! Someone with more chances of succeeding than this miserable, scrawny little runt!” he roared, fiercely pointing a finger at Erestor.
Erestor kept wincing every time Linwelin shouted louder, the words grating on his sensitive ears. A few babies could be heard wailing through the crowd as they were woken from their slumber. And when Linwelin pointed Erestor out again amidst his fellow Elves, his heart plummeted, wishing to be anywhere but here listening to these accusations, however true or untrue they may be.
“And you thought you would stand out because of your clothes,” Earane softly joked so only Erestor could hear as he gave his son a supportive squeeze.
Glorfindel merely stood there through the tirade with an eyebrow raised, his eyes rooted to Linwelin. Thinking the Elf was mad, Glorfindel tipped his head towards him and the guards immediately marched forwards and took the man away. For a moment, it looked like Linwelin would make a run for it, however, after gauging the density of the crowd, he saw that there would be no escape. The guards took him by the arms and led him towards the palace.
Once they had gone, everyone still stared at Glorfindel, waiting for someone to say something.
“Is this a celebration or a meeting of mourning?” Earane called out, hoping to lighten the mood. “Start up the music!”
Slowly, the band players began strumming their instruments, gradually joining together in song. Party guests slowly turned back to dancing and more jovial activities, eventually dispersing throughout the square, though some stayed nearby, their curiosity as to why Glorfindel had not yet left piqued.
“Was there something else you wanted Lord Glorfindel?” Earane asked stiffly.
“Well, now that you mention it…” Glorfindel said sultrily, his eyes blatantly roaming Erestor’s body in obvious lust.
Earane growled low in his throat and placed himself between the Lord and his son.
Glorfindel gave a silent snort, a smile touching his features at his dismissal. “Very well, I take my leave,” he said, turning away. “But first,” he paused and walked back towards Erestor, however Earane intercepted him first, their chests touching. “I merely wish to give Erestor his present,” he said in all sincerity.
“I thought you gave that to him last night,” Earane angrily ground out.
“Yes, but I feel bad now and wish to make it up to him.”
Earane’s throat clenched in suspicion but moved aside nonetheless.
“Thankyou,” Glorfindel said and stepped up to Erestor.
“Happy Begetting Day, Erestor!” Glorfindel chirped and held out a small box for the Apprentice Scribe.
“Thankyou,” Erestor said politely, taking the box, though he dreaded what he might find inside. It was not so much that he did not desire Glorfindel’s gift, for surely whatever it may be would be grand indeed. However, he did not want his father to feel inadequate due to the extravagant present.
Slowly untying the ribbon, Erestor opened the box. With a frown, he raised his eyes to Glorfindel for an explanation.
“They are keys to your new room and office,” he explained.
“But the presentation for all apprentices to be promoted is not for another month,” Erestor reasoned.
“Officially yes, but King Turgon wants you to start right away, since you have already stayed in your position two years longer than necessary. And, since my father is Lord of the House you live in, you shall work for him.”
“Then why did he not come and tell Erestor this? Why you?” Earane asked, aggravated.
“Because, as Lord, he has far too many pressing matters to attend to, and therefore must pass work onto others. And, as a Lord in training, I thought it best to get some experience dealing with peasants. I do hope you will not be as troublesome as this when I am in charge, jeweller,” Glorfindel sneered.
“Thankyou! for delivering these to me,” Erestor spoke up quickly, averting Glorfindel’s attention away from his father. “And, given his Majesty wishes it, I shall start immediately,” Erestor gave a smile and bowed.
“Your new bedroom is one level above your last one, but in the Golden Flower section, rather than the King’s. Come to me in the morn and I will take you to it. Your office is the third on the right, facing the House library doors from the outside. You have three days to move your personal items. Report again to me when you are ready to start,” Glorfindel commanded.
“Yes my Lord, thankyou.”
“You are welcome. And now that I have played delivery boy for the King and my father, here is your present from me!” he said, quickly grabbing Erestor around his neck and shoulders and pressed his lips to the Scribe’s, easily thrusting his tongue inside as the younger Elf was still in shock.
Erestor cried out in alarm, his eyes wide as Glorfindel pulled him tight against his body. Sliding a hand down the Scribe’s back, the blonde firmly grasped Erestor’s backside, the other remaining behind his head, keeping Erestor locked in the kiss.
Earane watched, helpless, as his son was ruthlessly violated right in front of him. His hands balled into fists when he saw Glorfindel’s arm moving down Erestor’s body. His son’s shocked eyes roamed all around the courtyard, silently pleading for help from anyone, but eventually gave up and closed them in shame, a single tear falling down his cheek. Earane then moved forward to break them up, uncaring of the consequences, but a few strong hands swiftly grasped the Elf, staying him from doing something stupid.
The elves dancing nearby noticed a rise in tension levels and looked to Glorfindel kissing Erestor in mild amusement. The rest of the guests further away soon noted others no longer moving, their attention placed elsewhere and turned to look also. Realising few now appreciated their efforts, the band one by one discontinued playing and all eyes were on the Scribe and Lord once more.
Noting that he was now the centre of attention, Glorfindel inwardly smirked. Erestor remained rigid against the Lord despite all the other elf did to involve him in the embrace. Glorfindel’s tongue wrapped itself around Erestor’s lax one, obscenely exploring the depths of his mouth. Sucking Erestor’s tongue into his mouth, he tried to incur some sort of response but again received none. His hand on the back of Erestor’s head began stroking the silky locks, while his hand on the firm posterior started squeezing the rounded cheek upon which it rested.
A familiar warmth in his nether regions began to grow and Glorfindel moaned loudly into Erestor’s mouth, letting all nearby hear his enjoyment as his hips began lazily thrusting against the other’s groin.
Erestor, meanwhile, couldn’t think… all he knew was that after reassuring his father of his safety, occasionally standing up for the Lords he worked for, specifically Glorfindel, this was now vilifying his words in a most horrendous way right in front of his father! Though he was too proud to cry outright, a few more tears leaked from his eyes nonetheless.
Tasting the salty sweetness of Erestor’s tears, Glorfindel relented and released the Scribe’s mouth but did not let him go. Instead, the Lord pulled Erestor’s head onto his shoulder, giving the younger Elf a chance to dry his face before anyone saw, stroking the black hair comfortingly. Moving his mouth closer to Erestor’s ear, the Lord whispered, “Wait a few nights… I will give you something to cry about then,” his hand clenching in the dark hair to punctuate his words. Erestor, whom had wiped his tears away on the other’s tunic, pushed the Lord away harshly, stumbling backwards to put as much distance between them as possible. Glorfindel merely smiled at Erestor’s behaviour and turned to Earane. “You have raised a good boy, Earane. Time for me to make him an elf,” he said haughtily, then stalked away, the crowd parting for him as he went.
Parmasambe
Library of Imladris
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