Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG (for bullying themes) (will eventually be NC-17)
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: Bullying. Rape and humiliation in later chapters.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D
A/N: As far as age goes, I believe Elves age at half the rate of humans, so while Erestor is 30 in this chapter, he looks like a 15 year old.
Chapter 4
Over the rest of his educational life, Erestor was no longer physically abused. The teasing and mocking comments were a constant occurrence, but he learnt from the day on the field not to react. By ignoring their petty and spiteful remarks, Erestor rendered all their ammunition useless. And while most gave up, Galdor, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were too proud to be beaten by a silent, emotionally detached whelp. Though for Erestor, he liked it most when they ignored him. Then he was able to study in peace and not concentrate on not reacting to their hate-filled words. Though every few years Erestor would have a teacher who did not approve of his learning with the children of Lords, and, like Kamarla, would also ignore and impede his efforts at every turn. This almost proved too much for Erestor when he was taught by Kamarla, but he soon accepted it as another part of school life.
Four other teachers had ignored Erestor like Kamarla had done. Kamarla was the worst, and Erestor recalled how it had taken him nearly all the first term of that year to accept that he was no longer a valued class member. But that had not stoped him from volunteering for every question, every assignment, every task. All had been overlooked, but he had felt he had accomplished something by not giving up. That, and the annoyed looks Kamarla occasionally thrown in his direction had told Erestor that his determined attitude had been starting to wear on her nerves. Erestor remembered how a sense of grim satisfaction had overcome him and how he had been pleased that his teacher’s efforts of ignoring him were not going to plan, unlike his, which he had not given up on.
However, his attempts to be noticed often came at a cost. Every piece of homework he had handed in were ‘accidentally’ dropped on the floor instead of being given back to him, all unmarked. And for the entire year Erestor was visibly worried that he might fail, should Kamarla refuse to grade his work. Failure of course meant no more education, and not only would his future prospects have looked blank indeed, but the faith King Turgon had placed in him would be lost. Worse still, Erestor would not have been able to handle seeing the disappointment in his father’s eyes. On the last day of school of his second year of Intermediate level Erestor was literally shaking with fear at the prospect of being unable to progress to the next school year level.
When everyone had vacated the room at the end of the year, the teacher included, Erestor slowly stood from his chair and collected his report from the floor. Returning to his seat, Erestor’s hands trembled as he held the envelope that contained his grades from a year’s worth of hard work. The reports were to be opened by the parents and shown to the children at the adults’ discretion. However, Erestor did not want to show his father his report without knowing what was written on the paper.
He sat there for a good half-hour before being able to unfold the paper and read the contents for himself. He just remained still as his heart drummed so hard within his chest cavity that he thought it might soon convulse so hard it would blast its way out of his body and catapult itself half way across the room.
Eventually, Erestor gained the strength to open the paper and revealed to himself a bare pass for the year. Somehow, Erestor had been awarded the minimum amount possible he needed to advance to the next year without having any of his work graded. Before he knew it, Erestor was weeping in gratitude and relief onto his desk. It was not up to the usual standard his work normally was, but it was enough. Now he hoped his father would be just as pleased.
Picking up his bag, Erestor slowly trudged out of the classroom, pocketing the report as he went. On his way home he passed Galdor and his cronies, happily sharing around their reports, not caring that anyone walking past could see they were doing what they should not.
Galdor watched as he passed, a miserable expression on Erestor’s face.
“Ah! Another perfect! Mistress Kamarla has given me faultless marks all year! How about you, Glorfindel?” Galdor spoke louder than necessary, making sure his words carried to a doe-eyed Erestor.
“Just as I expected. Perfect! Ecthelion?”
“Ah, you two work so hard I can barely keep up! Though somehow, this year I have equalled your achievements! In fact, it looks as though our lovely teacher has given us all excellent marks!” Ecthelion called out, grabbing all the reports from everyone near him and looking them over.
“But, why if she has awarded us all faultless grades, does poor Erestor look so disheartened?” Galdor asked in an overly sweet tone. With his forehead scrunched in a frown, he moved to intercept Erestor on his way home. “Well, what have we here?” he asked as he saw the report poking over the top of Erestor’s pocket and snatched it.
Erestor stood patiently, waiting for Galdor to stop laughing and give it back. “Why, Erestor!” he said almost shocked when the chuckles subsided. “According to this, you are no longer the smartest in the class! In fact, you would have to be the dumbest!” Erestor kept his eyes on the ground, but raised his head and shoulders, refusing to cower in front of the bullies. Galdor snorted at Erestor’s resilience. Coming in closer to the younger Elfling, Galdor whispered harshly into his ear. “Just you wait. A few more years, and then, there will be no one to protect you. On that day, you’re mine!” Galdor backed up before scrunching up Erestor’s report and threw it at him. “See you next year!” Galdor spoke with scorn and the promise of more harassment to come.
Erestor picked up his report and marched home, not letting Galdor’s harsh words affect him outwardly.
Once home, Erestor slowly walked out to his father’s workshop, his report in hand.
“Erestor!” Earane called the moment he spotted his son, a smile spread wide on his face. “Is that your report?” he asked as he approached.
“Mmmhmm,” Erestor nodded.
Earane leaned down to take it from his offspring. “Why is it all scrunched up? And why did you open it? Could not wait to see what marks you received?” Erestor looked slightly guilty and nodded again. “That’s alright. I remember many students doing that when I was younger,” Earane reassured as he attempted to take the paper from Erestor’s fingers, now clamped around the report. “Erestor, let me look at it.” He ordered gently. Erestor let go and Earane took the crumpled paper from his son’s hands and read the comments.
Breathing deeply, Earane looked at his son’s forlorn expression and downcast eyes. “Oh, Erestor, it is alright,” Earane spoke gently, swooping down to give his son a supportive hug. “Master Tamarin told me last year that Kamarla was none too pleased with you joining this school. In fact, he said she disapproved more than most of the parents! Though I would have hoped you had told me she was being unfair to you.”
“How do you know I did not do my work and truly deserve those marks?” Erestor asked, his diplomatic skills already kicking in at such a young age.
“Erestor, I *live* with you! How could I watch all the hard work you put into your studies and expect you to bring home marks like these?”
“Perhaps I got all the answers incorrect?”
Earane levelled his son with a look clearly showing his disbelief.
“It could happen,” Erestor replied with a sulky smile.
Earane matched his son’s smile with one of his own. “Erestor,” Earane placed a kiss on Erestor’s forehead, “I wish you had told me of this earlier. I might have been able to help you then.”
“It does not matter any longer. The year is over. I shall have another teacher next year.”
“Speaking of teachers, Master Tamarin came over right after school and left a list of books for you to read over the Summer. Apparently he anticipated Kamarla’s unwillingness to make one for you herself and so he took the initiative and wrote one for you. It is on the kitchen table, if you would like to run up to the library now and retrieve a few books.”
“Yes, thankyou Ada.” Erestor reached up to kiss Earane’s cheek before rushing out the room. The craftsman watched his son’s rapidly retreating form, then back down at the report and sighed worriedly, hoping one teacher’s cruel intentions would not mar Erestor’s image when the time came for him to enter into a profession.
~*~*~*~*~
A few years later, however, it seemed as though all Earane’s fears were being put to rest as Erestor bowed low to the King and received his Masters certificate, with a special honour of being the top scoring student in the class. A distinction, which automatically entered Erestor into the King’s service in whatever field he desired. Wanting to be an Advisor, Erestor chose to join Turgon’s staff and be taught by scholarly and diplomatic Elves. To start, he was to be an apprentice Scribe to Tebring. Albeit, he was a low ranked Scribe, but it was a foot in the door for Erestor nonetheless.
If nothing else, the experience with Kamarla and the following teachers whom acted similarly towards him, taught Erestor to be more self-sufficient than ever before. This lead to his outstanding work, marked or not, and his relentless quest for knowledge easily caught many an eye. Interest in his abilities from an early age gave Erestor great confidence. And though King Turgon had offered Erestor a position as an Advisor’s Assistant in the city’s court, a position usually given after many decades of hard work, Erestor politely declined the position, believing he should start at the beginning and work his way up to gain further experience and insight.
Moving off the raised podium, Erestor returned to his father’s side, doing his best to keep the elated look off his face, but failing miserably. Earane hugged Erestor fiercely and pulled back to look upon his grown son dotingly. No longer a child, but not yet passed his majority. Erestor had inherited his mother’s pale skin; so white was he that some assumed him to be ill. Yet the faint pink smudges on his cheeks, often darkened with embarrassment proved that hypothesis incorrect. Erestor’s hair was perfectly straight and inky black with a hint of blue when the sun caught his luxurious locks. Earane’s mane was not of the same quality as his son’s, but it was just as dark, though many often joked that his hair was actually gold, darkened by the soot from his workshop. Yet what Earane could not fathom was Erestor’s eyes. As dark as a moonless night, warm enough to portray all the love of the Valar, yet so piercing one felt as though they were being turned inside out with just one gaze from him. No one on either side of the family had ever had such interesting yet somewhat disturbing eyes. His build was just as slight as his mother’s, his features just as delicate. But to think of his son as fragile was a big mistake. An aloof appearance, a sharp wit and a temper so cold it burnt often left his opponents recuperating damaged egos for weeks.
Earane’s smile towards Erestor was blinding, but was soon shoved out of the way by Cirilea so she could wrap her arms around the star of today’s ceremony. Erestor almost bounced off her eleven-month pregnant stomach, but managed to right himself again as he hugged her back.
“Come dear, let the boy breathe,” Master Tamarin said, noticing Erestor going slightly blue. “Congratulations, Erestor. I always knew you had it in you,” Tamarin shook Erestor’s forearms once his wife of four years had moved aside. Their short courting period started one day when they were both visiting a recuperating Erestor ten years before. It was followed by an even shorter engagement, and to most people’s surprise, a child was expected within three years of their marriage. Usually two Elves would slowly develop a relationship, wed and give birth over a longer period of thirty or more years, unless it was organised by parents for political benefits. However, any watching their particular relationship could blatantly see the fierce passion they held for one another, and so, to any who knew the couple well, the wooing period was more than appropriate for them.
“Thankyou, Mas- Tamarin,” Erestor blushed at almost reverting back to his old habits and placing himself in the role of the student before one of his now closest friends. Tamarin gave him a reprimanding smile, squeezed Erestor’s forearm, then let go.
“Forgive us, Erestor, but the Healer has demanded Cirilea to rest during the last month of her pregnancy. Congratulations again, and good luck with your apprenticeship,” Tamarin said, practically dragging his wife away. Cirilea sent an apologetic look to Erestor before following after her spouse.
Erestor looked back at his father and smiled again, unable to keep his good mood contained within himself.
“Come on, son, King Turgon is throwing a feast in your honour tonight. We had best get ready for it.”
Erestor rolled his eyes. “Father, he is not holding the celebrations for me. It is to congratulate everyone for passing their Masters.”
“Erestor, leave me to my delusions, would you? You received full marks, top of your class, and will be moving into the palace within a month. Let me enjoy the thought that this meal is being thrown for your achievements, please?”
Erestor smiled, delighted at his father’s words, and moved his arm to rest around the waist of the other Elf.
~*~*~*~*~
Erestor and Earane entered the Hall and looked around cavernous room. All the students, their parents, teachers, other Lords and officials and of course, the King, were spread around the Hall casually speaking to one another, waiting for dinner to be served. King Turgon had commissioned for two new garments to be made for Erestor and his father for the feast, knowing they would be looked down upon more so than usual should they come in their own clothes.
Erestor wore a dark blue robe to match the highlights of his hair, bringing out the fairness of his skin and emphasising the colour of his eyes. The material clung to his body, accentuating his slim physique yet flared out over his legs to leave some things to the imagination. A fine silver circlet, embedded with opals sat upon his head, a gift from his father before Erestor was even born and this was the first time he had ever worn it, keeping his hair away from his face, the rest left unbound and flowing freely down his back.
Earane was dressed similarly in green, but had a darker velvet green outer garment, covering much of his robe and was left open at the front. A circlet of gold with emeralds was woven into his braids.
The two looked at each other with awe and something akin to fear as they took in their surroundings. Feeling out of his depth, Erestor began to fidget with his hands, his normal composure beginning to crack. Seeing all the Elves who had tried to cease his education all gathered in one room suddenly overwhelmed him and he very quickly felt the need to flee. Earane saw the panic beginning to set in his son’s eyes and placed a steadying hand on the younger Elf’s shoulder. Expected to mingle, Earane led Erestor through the crowd to where his teachers were situated, deciding it would be best to ease Erestor into speaking with those higher up, as his new job would eventually entail, but to start off with some familiar faces first.
The teachers had gladly invited Earane and Erestor to join their conversation, with the exception of a few Kamarla included who walked off the moment they saw the duo come towards the group.
As the evening had worn on, King Turgon made his rounds and had delightfully introduced Earane and Erestor to many Lords, Ladies, Warriors, Advisors and Scribes. Erestor was very excited to meet Tebring, the Elf whom he would be working under once his apprenticeship began. All his fellow students and their parents still looked down upon him and his father, yet dared not say anything untoward in front of the King. However, overly polite tones and gestures spoke loud enough about their personal feelings and thoughts.
Dinner was truly a meal of magnificence. Thankfully, seated next to his father and his second year Expert, teacher, Erestor greatly enjoyed the small talk around the table and found himself joining in quite emphatically, though usually he was quiet in a group situation. Earane shot a few glances towards his son whenever he spoke, knowing he had a child worthy of being overly proud of. His thoughts and ideas were calculated, precise and able to win over even the strongest competitor.
It was in this moment that Earane realised how much he would miss Erestor once he moved out and started his own life, but at the same time realised it was inevitable and could not be stopped, however much he wished he could. The only action he could take now was to ensure the transition went as smoothly as it possibly could, for the sake of his son.
After coming to this conclusion, despite all the wonderful foods around him, Earane lost his appetite. He quietly sulked to himself, pushing his meal around on his plate with his fork, though none noticed except for Erestor.
Once the meal ended, many couples moved to the area reserved for dancing and moved in time to the music played. Erestor was still deep in conversation with one of his former teachers when someone asked him to dance. Looking around, Erestor was shocked to see it was one of the King’s most respected Advisor’s. Unsure of what to do, Erestor remained quiet and allowed himself to be led away.
A few of the educators shared a knowing smirk with one another, but Earane’s eyes narrowed as he saw just how close the Counsellor had pulled Erestor to him. Ready to go yank them apart, Earane couldn’t help but titter as Erestor stepped on the Advisor’s foot and the elder Elf cried out in pain. His son had never been privy to dancing lessons and as such, always seemed to make a mistake with all the Elves that eventually asked him for a spin around the dance floor.
Erestor was finally allowed a break almost an hour later. In dire need for escape, and a chance to sit down, he managed to excuse himself and went into the gardens for a breath of fresh air. Inhaling deeply he sagged into the stone bench, allowing his feet to rest for a moment. He had never been so embarrassed as when he accidentally tripped the King over into another couple and sent them all flying. Though somehow, the other Elves had yet to grasp the fact that he was not a good dancer and continued asking for his attention. Luckily, none of his fellow classmates or their parents had asked for a dance, and for that, he was grateful. He could just see now how Galdor would ridicule him in front of everyone and no doubt would also demand retribution for the injury Erestor had caused him. However, as it was, all his partners had taken his clumsiness in good stride. One even allowed Erestor to continuously bump into him, step on his foot and stand on his robe for almost ten minutes before he finally conceded Erestor did not make a good partner and hobbled off, throwing a miffed expression towards the dark-haired Elf’s new partner, which appeared only seconds after he had left. Erestor was rather taken aback by all the attention he was receiving, and try as he might to escape, someone else always cornered him before he could leave.
At one point, Erestor had thrown his father a look which clearly said ‘save me!’ Yet Earane merely sat at the table, throwing Erestor a ‘get yourself out of this one’ look and continued his discussion with the Elf seated next to him while Erestor suffered.
“Nice dancing!” Someone snarled behind the young Elf, rousing him from his musings. Standing and turning around in one flowing movement, Erestor saw three bodies coming swiftly towards him. Erestor began to panic. He was no longer at school, and as such did not hold the King’s protection. The fear he felt that day on the field began to resurface, and Erestor knew ten years of pent-up frustration was about to be released and aimed at him.
“My Lords,” Erestor said respectfully, bowing his head in submission.
“You call that dancing?” The only blonde in the small group retorted.
“You’re right, Glorfindel, that was more uncouth walking,” Galdor spat.
“I am sorry if I offended you, my Lords,” Erestor said meekly, not wishing to give them another reason for hurting him.
“Offended us? Please! You are an offence to all elves, EVERYWHERE!” Ecthelion spoke up.
“Then I shall leave so you are no longer offended by my presence,” Erestor tried tactfully to leave, but was pushed back by a strong hand on his shoulder as he tried to rush past. His nervousness began to show as his breathing became audible and his hands perspired.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Galdor sneered at the frightened Erestor.
“My Lord, I-” Erestor began in a shaken voice, but was cut off.
“You what? Thought you could escape what has been coming your way for a decade!?” Glorfindel shouted as Erestor cowered away and began stepping back as the three advanced on him.
In a flash Galdor rushed forward, hooked his leg behind Erestor’s and pushed the other away harshly. The younger Elf landed hard on his bottom. Smirking down at his trembling former classmate, Galdor raised his fist, ready for the striking blow. Bracing himself, Erestor closed his eyes and awaited the inevitable.
“Issh anybody out zair?” King Turgon called out into the night, vaguely seeing the outlines of a few Elven forms. Cursing at the ill-timed intrusion, Galdor sent Erestor a spiteful look before turning back to the King.
“Just us, your majesty,” the three bowed low as they walked up to their Lord.
“Well, come back inshide where the drinksh flow fweely and good company ish to be shhharrred,” he slurred and stumbled a little as he led the three young Lords back inside.
~*~
Erestor remained on the ground for some time, so relieved at the King’s intervention, planned or not, that tears of explicit relief fell unchecked down his cheeks. His hands shook with fear yet to be dispelled and his heart continued pounding hard beneath his breast.
The sound of footsteps soon brought him from his musings. Looking to the doors leading inside, Erestor could see his father coming towards him. Jumping up and wiping the tear-tracks from his eyes, Erestor sat back down on the bench he rested upon before the intrusion and waited for his father to find his rather obvious hiding place.
“Erestor, there you are!” Earane half chuckled to himself moments later. “Everyone knew your dancing was bad, but did not mean to frighten you off. In fact, there are another five sweet looking Elleths awaiting a chance to dance with you inside…”
“Thankyou father, but I feel I am ready to go home. Public humiliation has never been a favourite pastime of mine.”
“No one meant to humiliate you, Erestor. They just wished to spend time with you. I have seen many a glance stray in your direction tonight,” Earane said in a matter of fact tone, but with a hint of disapproval.
“Father!” Erestor reproached. “I think I am too young yet to think of such things.”
“I know,” Earane sighed as he sat on the seat next to his son. “But I cannot deny you are fair and appeal to many. This I have no control over, however I wish I might. And with you moving into the palace soon… I fear for your safety without my presence lingering in the background.”
“Father, you know they cannot force me into anything of *that* nature until I have reached my majority,” Erestor comforted his dad, hugging the elder Elf and holding him tight.
“I know… but I worry for you all the same.” He kissed the top of Erestor’s head.
“You would not be my father if you didn’t,” Erestor retorted with a soft smile. Earane joined in with a hearty chuckle and squeezed his son closer to him. “I will miss you when I leave, but I shall have every Sunday off and will come visit you then.”
Earane eased Erestor back from him and smiled gratefully at his son. “I would like that. Come, let us go home.”
TBC
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.