RSS

Printer Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Title: A Song in a Song
Author: Hare (harefic@yahoo.com)
Type: FCS
Characters: Lindir, Elladan, Elrohir, Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG-13 mainly, R rarely.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters found in this story nor was I creative enough to invent their world. I make no profit except in joy.
Timeline: Early Third Age
Warnings: Slash – some angst, some fluff, some romance. Not a songfic but a new genera Erfan and I call bum-fluff wherein a character lusts for another’s bum but the reader gets only fluff.
Beta: Weeping Naiad – a friend AND a scholar. Thank you, my dear.


Chapter 2

On a simmering day at the beginning of the summer months, Erestor sat scribbling away answering an important missive. His mind wandered and his temper was smoldering. As of late yesterday and continuing through the night, the rain poured and Little Erestor had refused to go out for fear of getting wet. It was apparent now that he was suffering from a lack of exercise and in recompense was playing one of his favorite silent games, imitate Erestor. No matter how he tried to ignore what was happening he could still observe the annoying activity out of the corner of his eye. Little Erestor copied his every move. Every pen stroke, every sound he made, every change of position, was reflected perfectly by the elfling.

Exasperated, he turned, ready to engage in his first admonition of the week when Glorfindel burst into the room. Little Erestor jumped from his chair and ran to hide behind Erestor.

“Nay! This will not do! It is the first perfect day of the year and you and Little Erestor are inside working!” Dramatic horror at their situation sarcastically laced Glorfindel’s voice.

Erestor rose and spread his hands, “Glorfindel --.”

Glorfindel pointed at him. “No arguments. Little Erestor needs exercise and the twins,” Erestor saw two identical faces peek around each of Glorfindel’s legs, “need a play companion. And you are as white as the ghost I saw flitting down the corridor last night.” Glorfindel paused dramatically, and Erestor knew he was allowing time for his words to be heard, and only continued when the frightened gasps of all three elflings echoed in the room. “Come, let us go.”

He knew better than to contend with Glorfindel when he was in a foul mood. And when Glorfindel deliberately searched for ways to frighten the twins, Erestor knew he should brook no argument to his command, for he would not hesitate to physically haul Erestor outside if he attempted resistance. Reaching around, he grabbed Little Erestor’s hand and followed.

Glorfindel juggled two balls in his hands and Erestor smiled wickedly. This was a favorite game, especially when he tired of the twins, who recently, forever followed him. He was rarely rid of them for as they grew their obsession with Glorfindel flourished in similar proportion. Erestor was grateful for the twins’ intervention. It put them both in a similar situation and kept Glorfindel frequently away from the Lady Amlugeth. Erestor was sure he loved the princelings more because of their unintentional interference.

The twins scurried after Glorfindel, but kept turning back to gaze at Little Erestor. These two had been circling his charge for months now. He could see the curiosity in their gazes, but not once had either garnered the courage to approach Little Erestor. He had at least expected Elladan to broach the ever shy Little Erestor. Elladan did keep a keen steady eye on Little Erestor but that was the extent of his interest. Elrohir seemed less curious. This was not unexpected though as Elrohir spent much of his time in daydreams and fantasies. His young mind wandered excessively on wild topics.

Indeed the day was bright and warm and the lawn was perfectly green. Lord Elrond’s ground keepers fought hard to keep this area as it was; a large open space for gatherings and play. Sadly, not a cloud dotted the perfect sky for Erestor much preferred the shade to direct sunlight. He sat, grudgingly, in the proffered lawn seat that Glorfindel had snatched from the garden on their way out. As he settled himself into the chair and shielded his eyes with his hand, Little Erestor huddled next to him, both hands tightly clutching at his robe.

Glorfindel had the attention of the twins who were bouncing in front of him waiting for the game to begin; however, he ignored them and was focused on Little Erestor. He tossed the balls skillfully between his hands as he spoke.

“The game is quite simple. I will throw the ball and whoever retrieves it and brings it to me first wins. There are no other rules. You must start the game here, Little Erestor. Come stand before me.”

Little Erestor shook his head no and clutched Erestor’s robes more, if possible, desperately.

“Nay,” queried Glorfindel. “Well then let us show you how it is done. Elladan. Elrohir. Make yourselves ready.”

The twins turned their backs to Glorfindel and leaned forward, perched on their toes, ready for flight. Glorfindel reared back and let go the ball. With cries of glee they dashed off. Moments later Elladan fell headfirst to the ground shouting out his frustration as Elrohir snatched up the ball and proudly trotted back.

Erestor watched Little Erestor’s reactions to this game. He was obviously fascinated with the action and the corners of his mouth lifted up just a bit. That faint smile was all the encouragement Erestor needed. He disentangled the tiny fists from his robe, put a firm hand upon the small of Little Erestor’s back, and nudged him toward Glorfindel. When he hesitated and swiveled back, Erestor placed a stern look upon his face and was only slightly surprised when he obeyed him and joined Elladan and Elrohir at Glorfindel’s side.

Meantime, Elrohir beamed at the praise bestowed upon him.

“Well done, Elrohir! That was a very fine run and return, indeed. Ah and we have another competitor! Come, Little Erestor, line up. On the ready.”

He launched it once again. Little Erestor began clumsily and fell completely out of the race. Elladan retrieved the ball. All three sprinted back to Glorfindel and encouragingly Little Erestor, even though losing the race, appeared ready, and most eager for another try. Glorfindel obliged their charges again and again and with each toss Little Erestor improved steadily – livelier starts, hare-footed dashes - until he was consistently neck and neck with the twins.

By the tenth throw, the competition between Elladan and Little Erestor became evident. They jostled each other for the lead, and both Erestor and Glorfindel were shocked when Elladan stuck out an arm and pushed Little Erestor causing him to fall hard and lose that round. Triumphantly Elladan returned, but Little Erestor had quickly recovered and was close on his heels.

As the ball was retrieved and returned, Glorfindel unhesitatingly threw it, each time. The three elflings sprinted after it seemingly obsessed with victory, and the struggle between Elladan and Little Erestor grew. Little Erestor retaliated, shoving and pushing Elladan, and Erestor was surprised by this behavior and the insight it provided. He enjoyed winning and was not cowed by Elladan’s aggressiveness.

“Glorfindel, I do believe they shall truly harm each other.”

“Nay, they will tire soon enough and as they sleep we will drink a large bottle of Lord Elrond’s rarest vintage, which is even now cooling in the Bruinen,” Glorfindel retorted with a glint in his eye.

“There is no better way to rid ourselves of the bratlings than a rousing game of retrieve the ball. And Elrond’s unknowing and generous gift of wine is proper recompense for our time!”

Erestor grudgingly agreed as, to his shame, they had played this ploy many times when left with the twins. It never failed. Further, Elrond’s wine cellar was famous for its wide variety of delicious wines and he was looking forward to a taste.

He startled out of his thoughts as Glorfindel shouted, “Elrohir! Nay!! Do not pick the wildflowers!”

Glorfindel leapt up and moved swiftly toward Elrohir, whose attention to the game had waned, and he carried a large spray of newly plucked flowers. Glorfindel descended upon Elrohir who cringed slightly as Glorfindel ripped the bouquet out of his hands and pushed him back to the game. Winded and with a sad look upon his face, Glorfindel returned to his seat while stroking the flowers.

“How many times have I done this? Yet Elrohir never learns! He has a fascination for nature yet chooses to destroy that which entices him.”

Erestor nodded as this was an old discussion between them. “He is but an elfling and these flowers will be replaced by others. You know well that once he has been reprimanded, oh hundreds or possibly thousands of times, he will finally remember. Until then, I fear, much shouting will be required.”

The tiring trio returned once more for another toss. Little Erestor still eager and interested, Elladan determined, but Elrohir had that familiar far away look in his eyes. Glorfindel reminded them who led in captures and launched the small ball once more. As they tore off, Erestor continued their conversation with a calculated change of direction.

“I have yet to see a final list of those who are traveling to Lothlórien. Are you planning on attending the voyage or will you send your second?”

“You know well I loathe traveling of any sort. I shall once again beg off and Elrond will allow it as he always does. There is no reason I need attend these meetings, and I despise the attention garnered upon me when I travel to other realms. Nay, gladly will I stay here playing nursemaid to our lordlings.”

Glorfindel’s head cocked as he seemed to consider his words. “Does it not appear that I do more than my fair share of elfling watching? Why am I reborn? Is it merely to chase after our young princelings?”

Laughing, Erestor answered, “Nay! It only seems this way because they have taken an obsessive liking to you. And what of me, for I am in the same situation? As with most anything our predicament is temporary. Soon these three will be less fascinated with us and shall move their attentions to others.”

The ragged elflings came once more up the hill, their step much less lively, as they panted to catch their breath. The exception was Little Erestor who had won his third straight race and bounced excitedly from one foot to the other, especially as Glorfindel heaped praise upon him. With a deep back swing Glorfindel made his longest throw yet and the contest was on again.

“I believe two or three more runs and we shall have blessed peace and quiet for a few hours. Do you concur?”

“I do.”

Their conversation lulled a bit and they quietly sat watching the elflings and their surroundings. A pause in their talks was a common occurrence for they were long friends and could sit comfortably and enjoy each other’s company without words.

Erestor continued an unashamed perusal of his companion. Glorfindel had stormed into Imladris centuries ago. Accompanied by Olórin, he had literally burst into the Last Homely House, strode straight to Elrond and engulfed him in a lingering embrace. The startled look on Elrond’s face had amused Erestor for years. The normally stoic and controlled lord had been regaled by Glorfindel as he told many stories of Elrond’s grandparents and the two spoke for an entire night while Erestor watched. Obviously forgotten by Elrond, he had spent the time hungrily listening to stories of Valinor and Nevrast and Gondolin. That Glorfindel was as beautiful as the songs foretold also kept his rapt attention.

Glorfindel’s outspoken and bright personality only served to accentuate his glorious physical appearance; luxurious hair which seemed to have Anor’s rays tangled within, tall stature, and long legs that descended from firm, neat buttocks. Never had so many ellyn and ellith began attending to their appearance as when Glorfindel arrived in Imladris. The streets would bustle with activity when word passed that he was about. For his part, Erestor was not immune to Glorfindel’s charms and found himself engaged in endless mindless musings. For years he had blushed guiltily each time they met until he assured himself that his secret thoughts were just that.

Glorfindel, astute warrior, tactician, and rogue, seemed to have little clue or interest in his affect on others. It seemed the rumor of Glorfindel’s insatiable appetite for bed partners was highly exaggerated. Attention on him had waned when it became clear his affection was not given lightly and was bestowed on a rare few and only after a prolonged courting. Still, no one had permanently captured his heart, so Erestor’s hopeful longing continued though in his more melancholy moods it bordered on hopeless. Erestor knew, however, that he had an advantage; he was Glorfindel’s closest friend and frequent confidant. Through time he had realized his power at swaying Glorfindel’s mind on many subjects including those he courted. Several times he had purposefully turned Glorfindel’s mind away from various elleth for his own selfish purposes. His single failure, Lady Amlugeth as Glorfindel seemed intent on keeping this one elleth. He cautiously broached the subject.

“Of course, if you do not join the convoy to Lothlórien you will also have more time to spend with the Lady Amlugeth.”

A mysterious grin appeared upon Glorfindel’s face as he turned to Erestor. “Aye, this is true. She IS perfect, is she not?” His eyebrow rose.

Erestor hesitated on his response.

“Well, aye, she is perfect if that is what one looks for in a mate.” Taking a deep breath he attempted his next question with extraordinary nonchalance. “Will you bond with her, Glorfindel?”

Surprise, then suspicion played across Glorfindel’s face before he roared out a laugh. Shaking his head, he answered, “You already know the answer to that question, Erestor!” And he started chortling again.

Shrieks from down the lawn forced their attention back to the elflings. They chased several large green frogs that were hopping erratically through the grass. The twins squealed each time one leapt high. Little Erestor followed too, lips moving in what had to be another song, his back stooped and his arms extended before him as he crept along trying to capture the leaping creatures. The ball was nowhere in sight.

Glorfindel, ever impatient when his orders were not followed, went charging down the lawn, yelling as he went. Powerful legs propelled him forward and Erestor felt a lick of heat coil inside him as he watched the commanding play of muscles. His lust quickly turned to mirth as Glorfindel, in a rare moment of irretrievable dignity, lost his footing. Water droplets sprayed as his feet flew up and he fell, with a dull thud, on his backside. His momentum caused him to skid across the grass and not once did his bellowing cease. Apparently small puddles of water remained from last night’s rain. Glorfindel’s legs kicked a few more times before, with grace refound, he lithely sprang to his feet. Surprised by the sight, Erestor could not squelch the bark of laughter that escaped. He was absurdly charmed by this inept display from his normally agile friend. The elflings, absorbed in their own pursuits, ignored the outburst completely.

Erestor, covered his mouth to hide his continuing smile, and calmly walked down the lawn. He gathered the elflings to him as the frogs leapt away to safety. Glorfindel swiped at his leggings and lifted his tunic high while wringing out the water. The exposed patch of white, smooth, perfect skin beckoned to Erestor, and his mouth watered to taste that mysterious flesh. Glorfindel mumbled unknown words under his breath and threw dark looks at Erestor. Still grinning broadly, Erestor shook himself from his musings, ignored Glorfindel’s mood, and herded the elflings back to the chairs as the twins prattled on excitedly about the frogs. Little Erestor kept turning back as if yearning for one last glimpse of his escaped prey.

Erestor spied Glorfindel as he slipped through the trees obviously headed for the small arm of the Bruinen which surely held the aforementioned bottle of wine. Taking this opportunity he directed the elflings to move the chairs under the shade of a nearby copse of trees. Immediately after doing so and without prompting the elflings laid down. It warmed Erestor’s heart to see the three huddled so close together and in a short moment all were asleep. As if on cue, Glorfindel reappeared, still muddy and grimy from his fall, but now a wide grin split his face.

As Glorfindel seated himself and proceeded to open the chilled wine, Erestor once again reflected on their friendship and his desire. But his thoughts were momentarily waylaid, and he swallowed hard as Glorfindel lifted the bottle to what Erestor had long ago dubbed the most desirable mouth in Middle Earth. The spell was momentarily broken when he smacked his lips, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and passed the carafe. Erestor blushed as their fingers touched and quickly brought the bottle to his own lips. He casually glanced around the decanter, appreciating the lazy sprawl of Glorfindel’s beautiful body, and the easy hardness sent a secret thrill through him.

For years he had weaved more than his fare share of erotic visions about Glorfindel, and sometimes when he was in a wicked mood he rehearsed what he would say if he had the nerve.* Good day, Glorfindel. At night I dream of possessing you completely. Shall we make my dreams a reality?*

Or when his thoughts became wild he imagined saying. *When I think on you, Glorfindel, I find I cannot cease touching myself and bring myself to completion while screaming your name.*

Or when his fantasies bordered on the romantic, he envisioned himself on bended knee plighting his troth or writing flattering poetry.

A wide grin of sly delight spread across his face as he thought on these fantastical moments and Glorfindel cocked his head questioningly as he took the wine from Erestor. Having no head for wine on a good day, Erestor relaxed into his seat, enjoyed the easy camaraderie and the excitement of a friendship still between them, content that Glorfindel had no means of discerning where his thoughts took him. Still he was grateful that the afternoon was spent in mostly companionable silence as he rarely trusted his tongue when in this state.
Entry: 2008 Glorestor Challenge
Dedicated: To Patricia “slayer9649”, rescuer of orphans.
Author’s Note: A huge thank you to the “Tale Spinners”, Ezimachia and Svengalliedhare, for unwavering support and advice. Svengalliedhare, with whom I proudly share 25% of my genes, wrote all the songs in this story with edits by me. ***Except for the first and last sections this entire story is from Erestor’s POV
You must login (register) to review.