Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha (Thanks Darling)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R/ NC-17
Genre: Ansgt
Warnings: ATTEMPTED RAPE!
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: In the last chapter I said Erestor was 30, sorry, but he should have been 28 while his classmates were 30, so he looked like a 14 year old. In this chapter he is 48. Sorry, and thanks,
WARNING!!! Attempted rape! Do not read if you are not legally allowed to. Do not read if this offends or horrifies you!
Heed my advice before you go on, I refuse to be held accountable for your lack of judgement.
Chapter 5
“Here is that invoice of all historical books you requested, Master Tebring,” Erestor said, handing multiple pieces of parchment to the older Elf. “None are missing,” he added when Tebring began looking over the list.
“Very well,” he said, nodding his head in satisfaction, “you may begin the stock-take on linguistic books.”
“Of course,” Erestor said with a bow and headed to the library catalogue, taking all the language book cards with him.
Erestor had been working hard in the library under the tutelage of Master Tebring for almost twenty years now. Tomorrow should be the day he was appointed to Scribe; however, due to being a few years younger than all his peers when at school, Erestor wished to continue in this position until his majority when he would be promoted. There was to be a grand celebration held tomorrow, as all those from his class would be given a certain rank in whichever occupation they chose. Erestor knew for sure that Glorfindel, Galdor and Ecthelion were entering the ranks of their respective father’s armies, as were a few others, the three he worked with as an apprentice scribe, Luquanda, Talor and Seremela, were to be Scribes. Others had used their parents’ influence to be appointed to position of Advisor long before they were qualified, yet too eager to wait any longer. Some chose not to go into any occupation, instead travelling or waiting for their parents to retire so they could take over their relatives’ jobs. Though most of the females stayed at home and waited until they were old enough to be courted and married into a well-off family, which for most occurred this past year.
Erestor had been offered the choice to graduate with his classmates, but declined the offer, wishing to wait until he was of the appropriate age. He had also been invited to join in the festivities, but again, he decided to take the day off and visit his father, as all palace officials would be with those taking their first step into the world of responsibility. Having been locked up in the library for most of the past twenty years gave him very little time to do anything other than work, eat and sleep, let alone see those he went to school with. Besides, they were busy with their own apprenticeships. Those who entered into the armed forces were often away on scouting practice and war games, those who stayed at home threw lavish parties that only the most refined could attend, some were busy gaining favours and the ears of very powerful and influential Elves, and few had left Gondolin long before their majority.
All in all, Erestor had seen very little of any whom he graduated school with. The three whom he worked with in the library had created a very rigid and formal friendship that ended the moment they left their work area. Erestor admired all their abilities, Luquanda’s especially, and would miss them terribly after tomorrow. Yet there were more entering into Tebring’s service in a week’s time so Erestor would not be alone for long.
Erestor wished Luquanda, Seremela and Lindal good luck before finishing for the day. Like himself in a few years’ time, they would spend ten years as a fully trained scribe and would then either chose to tutor apprentice scribes as they left school, as Tebring and many others like him did. If this did not interest them, they could then become an apprentice Advisor, then ten years later an Advisor, provided they followed the normal procedure. Erestor longed to become an Advisor, but thought he might teach apprentice scribes at least once before moving on, but there was plenty of time to make up his mind for sure.
For now though, he stopped by the kitchens to pick up his dinner then proceeded to his rooms. Apprentices were not paid as such, but their meals and accommodation were supplied free of charge. It was nothing fancy though. Down underneath all the main courtrooms, dining rooms and officials rooms was where all the servants, including the apprentice scribes, stayed, although some remained at home with their parents, provided they lived close to their place of work. Yet, given that only the higher ranking Elves’ children were properly educated and that most lived in the Palace, it was common practice.
Erestor’s room was rather small and bare, though a few personal items gave it some life. There was a bed and small set of draws in one corner, a table and chair in another, a wardrobe in the third and the door in the last. A small window gave him the magnificent view of the alley behind the kitchens, along with thrown-out rotting food. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The table was used mainly for dining purposes, though also made a good study area if ever Erestor wished to get ahead late at night on a project Tebring gave him.
Finishing his meal, Erestor turned in for the night.
~*~*~*~*~
Quietly entering his father’s shop the next morning, Erestor sneaked into the workroom, wanting to surprise Earane, but was puzzled to not see his father hard at work, as he had expected. Frowning, he went through the door that connected to the house and heard voices coming from the kitchen. One he recognised as his father’s, the other he had not hard before.
“Oh please, Earane, everyone knows of Erestor! I have the utmost faith he will do right by her. Stop trying to talk me into it, I was more than willing when first you came to me!” the unknown voice said. Erestor stood still in the hallway, frowning as he discovered that he was the subject of their conversation and wondered what his father was planning.
“Very well, Erestor comes home every Sunday, if you and Silindrical would like to join us for lunch, we shall do the introductions then.” Erestor’s father declared.
“We would be honoured. And I shall have Silindrical make an apple pie… she makes the best! If I do say so myself,” he chuckled.
There was a pause for a moment, then Earane asked in a lowered voice, “have you told her of our plans?”
“I have. I can keep nothing from her. Also I thought at least one should know so they can direct their friendship in the direction we are hoping for.”
Earane snorted in a most undignified manner. “Erestor is sharp of mind. He shall work out what is going on long before lunch begins!”
The other joined in the soft chuckling. “It will make for an interesting afternoon then. Now, I am sorry, but I really must get back to work. I shall see you Sunday, around twelve?”
“Twelve is perfect,” Earane said, barely audible over the sound of chairs scraping along the floor. “Namarie.”
“Namarie.” The front door clicked closed soon after. Earane’s face had a certain self- satisfied look upon it, which fell the moment he entered the hallway and found Erestor standing there, an eyebrow lifted and his hands on his hips.
“Hello father,” he drawled. “What exactly are you planning, pray tell?”
“Erestor?!” His father called, as if to make sure he was not just seeing things.
“It is I. Now what is it you are planning that involves me?”
“It is not Sunday,” Earane answered, still bewildered.
“Nay it is not,” Erestor replied formally.
“Why, then, are you here?”
“Do not think that by changing the subject I shall forget you owe me an explanation. I am here because all the students from my class are graduating to proper occupations today. As such, I have been given the day off, as Master Tebring will be attending the ceremony. I had hoped to surprise you with a visit, which I obviously have done. Now what is it you have devised to occur on Sunday at lunchtime?”
Earane groaned inwardly and his shoulders slumped minutely. “Come have some tea and I shall explain everything,” Earane suggested and moved back to the kitchen before Erestor could object. Following his father, Erestor sat at the table while Earane heated some water over the fire, coming to sit down while he waited for it to boil.
“About two months ago I was commissioned to make a fine necklace, circlet, bracelet and ring, all matching, for a fetching young lady-”
“Let me guess, Silindrical?” Erestor interrupted.
“Now that you mention it, no. It was for Silindrical’s sister, Nessa, whom shall be marrying in less than six month’s time. However, Silindrical came with her sister and father to collect the jewellery a few days ago when it was complete. Silindrical… she’s a beauty. A fine woman for anyone to court.”
“And you think I shall have interest in her?”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt.”
“But Ada, I am not yet of majority.”
“No, but I was thinking that if you and she started courting now, by the time of your majority, you may be ready to become engaged. Besides, you *are* allowed to engage in romantic activities before your fiftieth birthday, but only if both parties are willing.”
“Why do you wish me to marry so young? Do you not want me to have a life of my own before I start thinking along those lines?”
“Of course I want you to have a life. Just because you two get engaged does not mean you have to get married,” Earane spoke as if it was obvious.
“Though that is usually the assumption,” Erestor countered.
“Erestor,” Earane sobered, “you work in the palace. When you become of age you will be working in close approximation to those whom have power over everything, including your body. If you are engaged then you are already assumed to be taken and they cannot touch you, even if they demand it.”
“Come, father! You speak of days gone by. I have worked in the palace for twenty years and never have I seen a Lord order someone to lay with them! It does not happen anymore! I know you wish only to protect me, but I can assure you that there is no need to fret.” Earane looked unconvinced and Erestor sighed in frustration.
“However, I shall still meet with Silindrical, if you wish it,” Erestor conceded after a short silence.
“I do. And I think you will find Silindrical quite agreeable,” Earane smiled suggestively.
“We shall see,” Erestor replied monotonously.
~*~*~*~*~
The next day in the office was rather slow. While there were other Scribes and apprentices hard at work, there was only Erestor and Tebring sharing their particular responsibilities. Progress was halted to almost a crawl, yet the amount of work to be completed only climbed higher, but Erestor was more than happy to work longer hours to keep up with demand. Yet as Sunday drew near, he started to worry he may disgrace his father and need to reschedule their meeting. Determined to hold true to his promise of greeting Silindrical, Erestor found himself working late Thursday night (or was it Friday morning, now?), long after Master Tebring had retired to bed, as had nearly all of the household. Sitting at his desk, Erestor’s third pot of ink for the evening ran out. Standing, he picked up his candle and moved to Tebring’s office, bending over the desk to retrieve another inkpot from a draw on the opposite side.
~*~*~*~*~
Although the hour was late Glorfindel could not sleep. The past few days had been far too exciting for slumber. He had been walking around with a huge smirk on his face for days now. Not only had he been awarded the highest honour to anyone entering the armed services, but his father had also bought him two of the most gorgeous slaves anyone had ever seen. And no matter how much anyone begged, he would allow no hand other than his own touch them.
However, their meekness and fine feminine forms did little to slake his lust. The time spent training and being out in the wild over the past two decades had built up his muscles and toned his physique. Not to mention his ego with all the praise he received for his good work and adept abilities. Continuously being around males and wrestling with them often left him hard and needy. One could not simply revert back to the opposite sex after so long without them. It felt almost an affront to his skills to have sex with his father’s submissive presents. He wanted someone who would put up a fight. Someone he could dominate, not because they were there for his pleasure, but because they weren’t. Upon spying a faint light coming from the end of the hallway, Glorfindel believed he had just found his prey.
Entering the room, Glorfindel found himself inside the library, a place not often frequented by himself, and saw the light coming from the back, near to where all the apprentice scribes worked, yet coming from an office just beyond the line of desks they worked on. Stalking towards his quarry, Glorfindel sneaked past rows of great volumes and a line of desks to stand at the doorway of Master Tebring’s office, as indicated by the plaque next to the door. Not the best-looking Scribe, Glorfindel conceded, recalling a vague memory of a few days ago when they met at the celebrations, but he would do. Yet the sight that greeted the warrior made all thoughts of beauty flee his mind.
The heavy black robe Tebring wore was stretched over the most delectable, pert posterior Glorfindel had ever seen as the Elf leaned over the desk, almost as if in invitation. The Elf was fumbling with something on the other side of the desk, a sign that he thought he was alone.
Without warning, Glorfindel felt his groin stir as images flashed in his mind of mounting this creature against his will right over his own desk. Slinking forward he reached out with his hands as if to grasp the firm backside wantonly stuck out in his direction, but ghosted them over the rump, never touching yet his hands shook slightly as if it took all his will-power to hold back.
Erestor finally grasped a spare inkpot in his hand after a lot of shuffling and made to stand up. However just as he closed the drawer, a large body pinned him to the desk, causing the apprentice scribe to gasp in shock and wriggle, trying to escape this unwanted intrusion of his personal space. He attempted to buck off his attacker, whom had yet to do anything other than hold him down, but a large hardness rubbing against his backside through many layers of clothing soon drew his efforts to a close. Panic came thick and fast as Erestor fully realised the situation he was in.
It was late, very late. The room was dark except for one candle flame, which had threatened to extinguish itself during the commotion. He was alone, with no others nearby, except for the one whom had him pinned to his supervisor’s desk, and the stranger was obviously a lot stronger than he.
Fear set in soon enough… his breathing sped up and he was sure he could feel sweat roll down his forehead already. His throat closed over and tears of fear of frustration began welling in his eyes. He tried to speak, but no words formed, just an unintelligent squeak.
Not sure what to do next, Erestor turned his head around to see his attacker, but a hand forced his head onto the desk before he could see anything. Struggling to comprehend his current predicament and the best way to get out of it, Erestor fell back on his instincts and tried to talk and negotiate with his attacker, though he knew it was a long shot, but still nothing came out.
However, at the sensation of a hand that was not his own beginning to raise his robe, Erestor felt he had very few other options. Gathering his strength and learned diplomatics skills, he tried to speak again.
“M-My Lerd, I…I heve yet to reasch my machor-ity,” Erestor wept with his head still pressed firmly into the wood beneath him.
“Of course you have, Tebring. And I am the son of a peasant,” Glorfindel spoke sarcastically and moved from the body long enough to yank the robe up to Erestor’s waist.
Crying out in fear, Erestor tried to again dislodge his assailant by bucking harshly against the other’s body.
“Oh yeah, do that…” Glorfindel groaned as he straightened up and placed both hands on either side of Erestor’s hips, grinding his erection into the legging-clad backside. Tears fell unheeded from Erestor’s eyes, the situation seeming hopeless. Wailing in protest, Erestor’s hand automatically seized a quill lying innocently on his Master’s desk when Glorfindel grew tired of mere humping and jerked down his leggings. The warrior also released his own bulging need and began spreading Erestor’s cheeks to reveal a very tight-clenched puckered entrance, a soft sigh of appreciation left his lips as he gazed at what he was about to conquer.
Erestor, however, had never felt so humiliated in all his life and began weeping and hiccupping uncontrollably, his body jerking every now and then, only further exciting the one behind him.
“No, please… don’t…” he began muttering, over and over again like a mantra as he felt something huge and blunt nudge against his tiny virgin hole. With the other Elf’s hands steadying his hips, Erestor sought to stand up, but at the first sign of movement, an arm pushed him down again, rendering him immobile, except for his arms. His attacker began to push further into him and Erestor had never felt such pain, as if he were being split in half from the inside out by the slow, meticulous torture his attacker enforced upon him, though barely the head of the other Elf’s member had entered him yet.
Screaming in pain, Erestor lashed out on instinct and drove the quill he still held into the hand that gripped on his hip. Glorfindel pulled back from the body in pain and supported his hurt arm close, looking at the wound as if in disbelief of what a mere servant had just done to him.
Erestor, meanwhile, had slid off the end of the desk and sat in a heap on the floor, his head tucked behind arms as he continued to give voice to his grief, rocking to and fro on the spot in an effort to console himself.
Glorfindel looked upon the figure on the ground and growled. “Why you…!” and marched forward a few steps and roughly jerked the other up by his soft silky hair. Erestor tried to pull the hands out of his hair, also shielding his face from any blows that were forthcoming. Having pulled his prey to full height, Glorfindel raised his hand to hit the Elf whom had hurt him. But at the last second, recognition flared in his eyes and he stayed his arm.
“E… Erestor?” his assailant asked almost fearfully, the shame of attacking a minor in such a way flooding his conscience.
It seemed to take a lifetime for Erestor to lower his arms and sneak a look at his would-be rapist; his head remaining bowed in submission.
Glorfindel’s hand flexed in Erestor’s hair for a moment, a wince appearing on Erestor’s face, a few quiet sobs and tears still escaping his distraught form. The warrior slowly removed his hand from the raven hair, patting it down where it was the most messed up and seemingly caressed the dark locks down to a quivering shoulder.
“Erestor, I… had I known it was you-” Glorfindel spoke regretfully and cupped Erestor’s cheek affectionately, but the apprentice scribe only cried harder at the words and flinched at the action. Unfortunately for Erestor, this only seemed to aggravate the warrior’s anger again, and he roughly grabbed the heaving shoulders in his large hands and shook the other’s body as if it were a rag doll. “What is it with you? Is my touch not good enough for you!? Anyone else would be *honoured* if a Lord was interested in them! But not you! Never you! You think you are better than me? Well you are not! As much as you may dress as one of us, you are still nothing more than a peasant! You’re filth!” He had continued shaking Erestor until the last comment whereupon he shoved the younger Elf back against Tebring’s desk. Crying out in shock at the forcefulness of the push, Erestor once again fell to the floor and huddled there, visibly shaking in the shadow of his old classmate.
“P-please… no… no more…” he sobbed, holding his arms about his face in supplication.
Looking down, Glorfindel found his penis had not softened in the wake of all that had transpired these past few minutes. Rather the opposite. He could never remember a time when he had been this aroused. Looking at the helpless figure hunched on the floor, the Lord felt his hardness jump and harden further still and only just managed to curb the low moan that started in his throat from spilling forth.
In spite of his titillation, Glorfindel found himself feeling rather awkward to be presented thus as it was clear his lust was not to be sated here. Re-arranging himself back into his leggings, Glorfindel smiled rather impishly when Erestor heard the rustle of cloth and peeped out to see his former classmate’s erection straining against the laces holding the cloth together.
Taking pity on the frightened Elf, Glorfindel knelt to offer some comfort. “Erestor, it is alright. I shall not harm you… you are not of age…” he spoke soothingly as he stroked the black head, coaxing it from its hiding place with two strong fingers placed under the chin. Reverently, he traced a path from the jaw line up to the temple, a look of awe upon his features as though he had never seen true beauty until this night.
“And,” Erestor sniffled, “And if I were? Would you take me against my will then?” he shot back accusingly, too drained emotionally and physically to be civil.
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed threateningly and a hand grasped Erestor’s chin forcefully, keeping their eyes aligned. “Oh, just wait until you are… I shall be the least of your worries then. I doubt any Elf of the court shall not want you. How the mighty shall fall that day! And you will be nothing more than the *whore* you were born to be!” he spat and marched away.
Erestor whimpered at Glorfindel’s words, and lowered his head back into the folds of his robes, seeking the hollow comfort it brought.
~*~*~*~*~
Later that night, as he pounded into his slave’s arse, Glorfindel imagined midnight black hair, dark eyes and pale white skin.
TBC
Translation:
Namarie- Farewell
AN: Wow! Can’t believe we’re up to here already! YAY! (I love this chapter!) Hope you did too and haven’t shocked too many away (though I would imagine most knew it was coming, right?)
Anyway, thanks for sticking with it, and I’d love to hear what you think. Thanks,
Luv Mawgy
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.