Title: Betrothal to an Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (manonb63@yahoo.com)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lothvaen, Lindir
Rating: PG to NC-17 depending on chapter
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Part 1:
Word count: 463
Summary/Notes: Lindir is worried about Lothvaen. The prompts used were 4 Aug 2006 - 'Erestor'; 6 Aug 2006 - 'what'; 27 Aug 2006 - 'friend'; 10 Sep 2006 - 'rain'; 28 Jan 2007 - 'bank'; 29 Jan 2007 - 'orchard'; 22 Mar 2007 - 'anxious'; 4 Apr 2007 - 'buds' and 'worry'; 19 Apr 2007 - 'mud'; 22 Apr 2007 - 'slick'; 23 Apr 2007 - 'slippery'; 16 May 2007 - 'river'; 17 May 2007 - 'rock'; 19 May 2007 - 'heavy'; 19 June 2007 - 'splash'
************************
Lindir was anxious. Something - or someone - had upset Lothvaen, and he was determined to find out. He made his way through the orchard down to the river, barely noticing the buds on the trees that signified the arrival of Spring.
He espied his friend sitting on a rock and made his way downward towards the bank, noting how slick and slippery it was, the ground almost mud from the recent heavy rain.
"Why are you here?" Lothvaen's quiet voice reached him despite the distance the minstrel had to traverse to reach him.
Instead of answering, Lindir concentrated on keeping his footing. Finally, when he reached the other elf, he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Because I worry about you," he replied.
With a toss of his wrist, Lothvaen threw a small stone into the water, its splash barely disturbing the silence.
"What has happened, Lothvaen? Will you not tell me so that I can help you?"
Lothvaen shook his head. "It is not something you can help me with, mellonen. I am afraid this is something I must deal with on my own."
"Does it have something to do with Elrohir?" the minstrel tentatively asked.
The scribe sighed. "Aye."
"It is not going as well as you hoped?"
Lothvaen shrugged. "That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"On how well one expected it to be in the first place."
"I do not understand."
"'Tis all right, mellonen. I fear I do not make much sense at the moment."
"I am sorry."
Lothvaen turned, his gaze quizzical. "For what are you apologizing?"
It was Lindir's turn to shrug. "I do not know. I fear I do not make much sense at the moment."
Lothvaen smiled and gave his friend a slight shove.
"Careful! The ground is a little slippery from the rain!" Lindir said, smiling at Lothvaen. "At least I made you smile."
"Hannon le, Lindir. I am glad you are my friend."
The minstrel flushed. "We have always been there for each other, and I do not like seeing you sad." He motioned to Lothvaen to make some room for him on the rock. "Actually, I have some news."
"Good?"
Lindir grinned. "I would say so. I do believe there will be an announcement very soon concerning a certain seneschal and advisor."
Lothvaen's eyes widened. "How did you find out?"
"I saw Erestor and Glorfindel leaving Elrond's study with smiles on their faces…*and* they were holding hands!"
"Do you think it will be tonight?"
"I would be very surprised if it were not. Come, let us make our way back to the house. I think we both need to change our robes before we go to dinner."
Looking down at his muddy hem, Lothvaen nodded ruefully. "I think you may be right."
************************
Elvish translations: hannon le - thank you
mellonen - my friend
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 2
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lothvaen
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 513
Summary/Notes: Elrohir asks some questions. The prompts used were 18 Apr 2006 - 'luck'; 17 May 2006 - 'follow'; 28 Jun 2006 - 'heart'; 7 Sep 2006 - 'fountain'; Sep 2006 - 'night'; 30 Jan 2007 - 'circle'; 5 Feb 2007 - 'twist'; 6 Feb 2007 - 'birth'; 29 Apr 2007 - 'eternity'; 28 June 2007 - 'complicated'
************************
Elrohir found himself walking in a circle continuously around the fountain, his mind in turmoil. He kept on reliving his conversation with Lothvaen, and wondered anew where things had gone wrong.
His gaze caught by a passing bird, he watched it twist and turn as it attempted to catch a moth for its evening meal. He wanted desperately to speak to Elladan, but his twin was in the stables, watching as one of his mares gave birth. It would be a while before his brother would emerge; in the meantime, Elrohir would have to be patient.
He sighed. When had things become so complicated? Elrohir had not given any thought to love, so when Lothvaen had spoken those fateful words, asked that fateful question, it had taken him completely unawares.
Erestor and Glorfindel came out into the garden. The seneschal was smiling broadly, even though the advisor appeared to be chastising him for some thing or another. Elrond had already told him the news that the two were now betrothed, and that the announcement would be made that night. Elrohir was genuinely pleased that things seemed to be finally working out for his two former tutors; he had always felt that they belonged together.
He decided to make his way back into the house; the two elves were heading in his direction, and he did not feel up to answering any questions, for it would not take them long to realise that something was bothering him. However, his luck ran out just as he turned.
"Elrohir!" It was Glorfindel who called his name, and the younger Peredhel turned once more to face them with some reluctance.
Erestor looked at his former pupil. "What is it that bothers you, pen-neth?" he asked bluntly.
Elrohir took a look at both their concerned faces. "How does one know when one is in love?" he blurted out.
If there was one thing Erestor and Glorfindel had not been expecting, it had been the question Elrohir had just asked.
"Why do you ask?" Glorfindel asked cautiously.
"Lothvaen asked me if I loved him."
"Did he say he loved you?" Erestor asked gently.
Elrohir nodded.
"So…what did you tell him?" Glorfindel wanted to know.
The younger elf sighed. "I told him I cared for him. In his eyes, it was the wrong answer. He said that caring was not the same, that it only implied affection. What do I do?" he appealed to the older elves.
Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged glances. "Follow your heart," Erestor said simply. "As trite as that answer may be, it is the only answer we can give you. If you do not feel you love Lothvaen, then best to know this now than to find yourself in a situation that you would rue for all eternity."
"But I hurt him," Elrohir whispered.
"Mayhap it is better you hurt him now, rather than letting him believe that there could be a future between the two of you."
"That is so harsh, Erestor," the younger elf said.
"Sometimes life - and love - can be," Erestor responded simply.
************************
Elvish translations: pen-neth - young one
Peredhel - half elf
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 3
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 547
Summary/Notes: The betrothal announcement is made. The prompts used were 24 Mar 2006 - 'closer'; 10 Apr 2006 - 'bite'; 4 May 2006 - 'nervous'; 29 Jul 2006 - 'intrigued'; 28 Aug 2006 - 'fire'; 22 Sep 2006 - 'wedding'; 19 Oct 2006 - 'drink'; 22 Oct 2006 - 'drag'; 7 Feb 2007 - 'knot'; 8 Feb 2007 - 'whole'; 9 Feb 2007 - 'hole'; 3 Mar 2007 - 'tight'; 8 May 2007 - 'gossip'; 15 May 2007 - 'goblet'; 25 May 2007 - 'ceremony'; 7 June 2007 - 'dare'; 13 June 2007 - 'anger'; 23 June 2007 - 'safe/safety'; 24 June 2007 - 'collar'; 27 June 2007 - 'fun/funny'; 1 July 2007 - 'bastard'
************************
Erestor's stomach was in a knot. The time was fast approaching when Elrond would announce their betrothal, and he was wishing he was anywhere else except the Hall of Fire.
"Are you trying to rub a hole into the floor, melethron?" Glorfindel whispered.
The darkling elf started. "What do you mean?"
"Your slipper has been rubbing over the same spot again and again for the last half hour. I think Elrond would prefer if his floor were left whole."
Erestor took a sip from his goblet, noting with a little satisfaction that his hand was still steady, despite what he was feeling.
"You need not be nervous, Erestor."
The advisor shot Glorfindel a dark look. "Do you find this funny, Glorfindel?"
"I would not dare to, melethron. I have my safety to think about."
"And, if I were you, I would be careful. Right now I am very tempted to drag you by your collar out of here to give you more than just a piece of my mind!" There was anger in Erestor's voice, but he still kept it lowered so as not to attract attention.
"And provide gossip for all here? I think not." Leaning closer towards his betrothed, Glorfindel said with a smile on his face, "You do realise that your bark is worse than your bite, do you not?"
"Bark worse than my bite? Where did you learn such a phrase?"
"From some mortals at the settlement I visited the other day." Glorfindel moved back to sit more comfortably in his chair before turning a quizzical gaze at the darkling elf. "You said 'more than just a piece of my mind'. I confess I am intrigued; what would that 'more' constitute?" he asked mischievously.
"You are a bastard," Erestor said calmly.
Glorfindel's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
Erestor shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly. "'Tis an expression I learnt from some mortals. Quiet now, Elrond is about to make his announcement, though I feel I should make one to say that the betrothal has been cancelled."
"You would not do that," Glorfindel stated confidently, but then glanced at the stern visage of his lover. "On the other hand, you would," he muttered, before returning his gaze to Elrond.
"My friends," Elrond began. "I have a wonderful announcement to make, one I am sure all of you had been hoping for." His gaze rested on his seneschal and advisor, taking in the expressions on their faces. 'Oh Valar, now what?' he thought. Pausing only slightly, he then continued, pretending he had not seen what he had. "I am pleased to announce the betrothal between my chief advisor and seneschal."
The Hall erupted with clapping and shouted good wishes at the pair, with a number of them shouting 'about time'.
Elrond raised his voice. "Which means that, in a year's time, we will be celebrating their wedding ceremony." There were more cheers, and Elrond raised his goblet. "Let us drink to Erestor and Glorfindel." There was momentary silence as they all took sips of their wine.
"Melin chen, Erestor," Glorfindel said quietly.
Erestor's throat was suddenly tight with emotion, and he had difficulty in swallowing his wine. "Melin chen, bevae," he managed to bring out, and felt his heart flutter at the brilliant smile that Glorfindel gave him.
************************
Elvish translations: melethron - male lover
melin chen - I love you
melin chen, bevae - I love you, too.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 4
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Elrohir/Lothvaen
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 621
Summary/Notes: Legolas asks Lindir a question. The prompts used were 14 Apr 2006 - 'yes'; 17 Apr 2006 - 'air'; 19 Jun 2006 - 'force'; 5 Sep 2006 - 'father'; 8 Sep 2006 - 'lord'; 12 Sep 2006 - 'light'; 20 Sep 2006 - 'love'; 30 Sep 2006 - 'hair'; 14 Feb 2007 - 'trickle'; 15 Feb 2007 - 'song'; 25 Feb 2007 - 'gem'; 7 Apr 2007 - 'pretty'; 12 Apr 2007 - 'search'; 24 Apr 2007 - 'crown'; 25 June 2007 - 'attractive'; 3 July 2007 - 'marriage'
************************
Legolas stared out of the window, watching the rain trickle down the side of the house. He loved the smell of rain, but he was finding that it was fast being overtaken by the love that he felt for Lindir.
Turning, he smiled as the minstrel practiced his song. Lindir looked particularly attractive that morning, wearing a light blue tunic that set off his pale hair to perfection. Feeling Legolas' eyes upon him, the minstrel looked up and smiled.
"A pity it is raining," he remarked.
"Aye," Legolas concurred. "But no matter. For me it makes no difference, as long as I am with you."
"Such a pretty turn of speech, melethen," Lindir said, then blushed when he realised what he had said.
Legolas' eyes widened. "Am I truly 'your love'?" he asked hopefully.
Lindir blushed even further. "Aye," he said shyly. He turned away in embarrassment to the table next to him and began to rummage through the parchments there, as if in search of something. All too soon, though, he felt Legolas' presence next to him.
"Look at me, Lindir," Legolas requested softly. When the minstrel turned a cautious gaze towards him, Legolas took his love's face between his hands.
"Melin chen, Lindir. You have become more priceless to me than any gem. Would you allow me to court you?"
Lindir swallowed. "But what of your father?" he whispered. "You are the Crown Prince; he would expect you to marry an elleth and beget an heir."
"My father wants me to be happy. He has always known of my preference for ellyn, and has told me he would never force me into a marriage with an elleth if I did not desire it." He rested his forehead against Lindir's. "Gûren…cuilen," he whispered.
Lindir's eyes misted with tears. "Yes, I will allow you to court me, Legolas."
"It seems romance is in the air." The voice made the two elves start and they turned to the figure standing in the doorway.
"Lord Elrond!"
The elf-lord continued to look at the two elves, a broad smile on his face. "Amazing what a betrothal announcement can do," he said a little mischievously.
"Then you do not mind?" Legolas asked tentatively.
"No, Legolas, I do not mind. If anything, I am pleased. There has been too little romance here of late, and I had rather hoped that relationship between Erestor and Glorfindel would spur others in declaring their feelings to the ones they love."
"I am glad that Erestor and Glorfindel are now betrothed," Legolas said.
"Yet Erestor did not seem too happy last night when you made the announcement," the minstrel commented.
"Erestor was being…Erestor," Elrond remarked dryly. "But there are many here who share your sentiments, Legolas," he continued, "myself included. Though…"
"…Erestor being Erestor, it is not always that simple," Lindir finished. "I know. Lothvaen has complained often enough about how difficult Erestor can be."
Elrond nodded before turning a speculative gaze at his minstrel. "Speaking of Lothvaen, has something happened between him and my son? I have tried speaking to Elrohir, but he says he does not wish to speak of it. Has Lothvaen said anything to you?"
Lindir shifted uncomfortably. "Aye," he admitted, "though I would prefer not to say anything, híren. I think this is something that Lothvaen and Elrohir should sort out without undue interference from others." The minstrel's face paled. "Díheno nin, híren! I did not mean…"
The elf-lord raised his hand and stopped Lindir mid-flow, then sighed. Whether he liked it or not, the younger elf had a point. "I know what you mean, Lindir and you are right. We need to let them sort it out, though I fear there will be tears."
************************
Elvish translations: cuilen - my life
díheno nin - forgive me
elleth - female elf
ellyn - male elves
gûren - my heart
híren - my lord
melethen - my love
melin chen - I love you
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 5
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 646
Summary/Notes: Erestor is annoyed. The prompts used were 11 Jun 2006 - 'down'; 30 Jun 2006 - 'sympathy'; 2 Sep 2006 - 'peace'; 13 Sep 2006 - 'quill'; 20 Sep 2006 - 'beauty/beautiful'; 4 Oct 2006 - 'massage'; 22 Oct 2006 - 'under'; 19 Feb 2007 - 'pay/payment'; 28 Feb 2007 - 'nasty'; 13 Apr 2007 - 'triskaidekaphobia'; 5 Mar 2007 - 'calendar'; 9 June 2007 - 'vicious'; 10 June 2007 - 'vindictive'; 11 June 2007 - 'muscle'; 26 June 2007 - 'danger'
************************
Erestor rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had developed a particularly nasty headache, and he wanted nothing more than to retire to his rooms and lie down. Instead, he tried to focus his attention on the parchment that lay on his desk. It was a request for payment from the merchant who had delivered his wares, as promised, but had also decided to add on extra to the cost, citing the increased prices he had had to pay in order to 'provide wares of the excellent quality that the elves expect', to quote the words used by said merchant.
The advisor's lips curled into a sneer. His headache had put him into a vindictive mood, and Erestor was tempted to pay the price that had originally been agreed upon. With a vicious swipe of his quill, he struck through the final cost. 'Good relations be damned,' he thought, but he was not going sit idly by and allow merchants to try and rob them.
He looked up when the door opened and watched dispassionately as Glorfindel came in, rubbing his shoulder. "I think I pulled a muscle at training," he groused.
"Do you expect me to do something about that?" Erestor asked, not bothering to try and hide the sarcasm in his voice.
"Well, a little sympathy would not go astray," Glorfindel replied, trying, but failing, to look woebegone. Taking in the annoyed expression on his betrothed's face, he sighed. "It seems, however, that I am in danger of losing my head. What has put you into such a vile mood?"
"Scurrilous merchants who seek to rob us blind."
"Ah. I sympathise. It happens frequently when I purchase something at the human settlements that they try and ask for more than what the item is worth. They are all under the belief that we elves are rich." Glorfindel settled himself down in the chair in front of Erestor's desk, still rubbing his shoulder.
Erestor sighed. "Let me finish this and pay the merchant. I am almost tempted to ask you to provide a few of your guard to escort him to the borders of Imladris."
"Why?"
"As I only plan to pay the merchant the original amount that was agreed upon, and not this inflated price," here Erestor stabbed at the parchment with his finger, "he deems we should pay."
Glorfindel smiled; he could never help but think that his betrothed looked even more beautiful when he was angry.
"I think I could arrange for that to be done," he said mildly. "However, let me suggest that I take the payment to him. I confess I fear for his safety if I let you approach him."
Erestor snorted in amusement. "Am I that predictable?" he queried.
Glorfindel shook his head. "I am afraid so, melethen." He glanced at the calendar on Erestor's desk. "Hmm, Friday the 13th."
The advisor quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Is that supposed to signify something?"
"I am but merely making an observation, dear Erestor…unless you suffer from triskaidekaphobia?"
"From what?"
"Triskaidekaphobia. A fear of the number 13. Or you could be suffering from paraskavedekatriaphobia. That is a fear of Friday the 13th."
Erestor resisted the urge to bang his head on his desk. "Where in all of Middle-earth do you learn all these things?" he asked wearily.
"Oh, here and there," Glorfindel said airily. "You know, I should take you with me sometimes; you would learn so much!"
"I think I would prefer to stay here, thank you. Now, go and give this payment to the merchant and leave me in peace. The sooner I can finish my tasks, the sooner I can massage that shoulder of yours."
"Mmm…I shall look forward to that." Then a seductive smile appeared on Glorfindel's face. "In fact, I am sure there are other…parts that may require a massage."
Erestor's response was to scrunch up some parchment at throw it at his lover, who merely laughed as he went out the door.
************************
Elvish translations: melethen - my love.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 6
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lothvaen, Legolas/Lindir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 392
Summary/Notes: Elladan and Elrohir talk. The prompts used were 30 Mar 2006 - 'question'; 30 Apr 2006 - 'always'; 3 Jun 2006 - 'simple'; 17 Mar 2007 - 'clover'; 19 Mar 2007 - 'knoll'; 23 Mar 2007 - 'field'; 31 Mar 2007 - 'keep'; 11 Apr 2007 - 'peer'; 9 May 2007 - 'woods'; 10 May 2007 - 'journal'; 26 May 2007 - 'graduate/graduation'; 5 July 2007 - 'envious'
************************
"Is there are reason why you are trying to peer over my shoulder, Elladan?"
"Just curious, that is all, tôren."
"Keep your curiosity to yourself, then."
Elrohir was sitting on a knoll at the edge of a field that was covered in clover. His journal was resting on his knee, the quill acting as a bookmark where he had hastily closed it from his brother's prying eyes.
"What has happened between you and Lothvaen?"
"A difference of opinion," Elrohir replied shortly.
Elladan snorted. "Forgive me, tôren, but I think it is just more than a 'difference in opinion'. Do you not care for him?"
"Mayhap the question you should have asked is whether I love him."
The elder Peredhel twin stared at his brother in surprise. "Ah, so that is the way the wind blows," he finally said.
"Not for me - at least I think not."
"In other words, Lothvaen loves you, but you do not think you love him."
Elrohir nodded. "I suspect your sympathies lie with Lothvaen; this situation is remarkably similar to that between yourself and Orophin."
"My sympathies lie with neither of you. There may be similarities, but that is where they end. You have always been cautious with your heart, Elrohir. I am not going to judge you because of this."
"Thank you," Elrohir said gratefully. "I *do* care for Lothvaen, and have never had the desire to hurt him. Yet I have. I want to say or do something, but at the same time I do not want him to misconstrue my actions."
Instead of replying, Elladan stared at the woods in the distance for a while, before turning back to his brother.
"What do you think of Legolas courting Lindir?" he asked.
Elrohir sighed. "I confess to feeling a little envious. Their relationship seems so straightforward, so uncomplicated. There is none of the drama that exists between Erestor and Glorfindel, or the one-sidedness that is between me and Lothvaen. Why can not everything be that simple?"
"Because then it would be *too* simple, tôren." Elladan laid an arm companionably on his brother's shoulder. "If there were a school for love, then I think Legolas and Lindir would graduate with honours."
The younger Peredhel looked at his brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. "You really do say the oddest things, tôren."
Elladan just grinned.
************************
Elvish translations: Peredhel - half elf
tôren - my brother
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 7
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 605
Summary/Notes: Glorfindel gives Erestor a gift. The prompts used were 4 Jun 2006 - 'once'; 28 Jul 2006 - 'old'; 6 Sep 2006 - 'promise'; 4 Oct 2006 - 'face'; 26 Mar 2007 - 'float/floating'; 30 Mar 2007 - 'junk'; 6 Apr 2007 - 'keepsake'; 26 Apr 2007 - 'kitten'; 4 July 2007 - 'explosion'; 7 July 2007 - 'bell/bells'
************************
Stopping momentarily to watch a leaf as it floated to the ground, Erestor returned to the task at hand. "How can I have possibly accumulated so much *junk*?" he muttered as he knelt down to start sorting through the pile.
"Very easily," Glorfindel said as he entered the room. "I am afraid I share your propensity for keeping things even though they have little use any more."
Erestor sighed. "The difficult thing is to decide what to keep, and what to throw out or give away. So much of what I have here are a keepsake of one form or another."
"The worst things to try and sort. I know that all too well." Kneeling down next to Erestor, he placed what he had been carrying on the floor. The darkling elf stared.
"A kitten?"
"Aye. Were you not aware that the stable cat had given birth? This is one of her litter. Is she not beautiful?" Glorfindel smiled as he stroked the kitten, his large hand almost engulfing it.
"Is it old enough to leave its mother?" Erestor asked, watching in fascination as the kitten began pawing at piece of parchment.
"I would not have brought her here if she were not." Glorfindel turned and looked at his lover. "I thought you might like to have her."
Erestor smiled as he watched the kitten, which was a beautiful smoky-grey colour with white paws. As if she felt Erestor's eyes upon her, she turned and sat down demurely, returning the advisor's gaze unwaveringly.
"She is like a little princess," Erestor said. "I think I shall call her Aranel."
"A pretty name," Glorfindel replied. If truth be told, he was surprised that Erestor was willing to accept the kitten. He had been expecting an explosion of some sort from his betrothed. But watching Erestor gently stroking the kitten, he found that a weight had been lifted from him.
"You do not mind?" he asked curiously.
"Mind? Mind what?" Erestor asked.
"That I gave you a kitten."
"I have nothing against animals as pets, Glorfindel. It is just that I have never had one before. And she is more precious because you gave her to me."
"She will be good company for you when I am away on patrol."
"Must you go on patrol?" Erestor queried, still stroking the kitten.
"It is part of my duties, melethron - you know this," Glorfindel replied, wondering where this was going.
"But now that we are betrothed, surely there is less need for you to do so. There are other elves who could take your place."
"Other elves? Of whom do you speak?"
"Those who are not attached," Erestor said. His voice was deceptively casual, but there was something else there, and the warning bells that had quietly begun ringing in Glorfindel's head gradually became louder.
"You worry that something may happen to me," he surmised. There was no reply from Erestor, but his hand stilled briefly before resuming his stroking of Aranel. "You have nothing to fear, melethen," Glorfindel said quietly, "though I do not blame you for worrying. Dark times begin to approach once more, but what happened to Gil-galad will not happen to me, I promise you."
"How can you promise such a thing?" Erestor's voice was anguished.
"Because I do not think Námo will want to have me in his Halls again." Glorfindel met Erestor's puzzled gaze with a smile. "I am afraid I beat him once too often in chess; he will not want me back for that reason alone."
"Is he truly that bad?" Erestor asked, a glimmer of a smile on his face.
"Worse."
************************
Elvish translations: melethen - my love
melethron - male lover
'Aranel' is taken from the Council of Elrond website.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 8
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 468
Summary/Notes: An interesting word or two, and some trivia. The prompts used were 1 May 2006 - 'remember'; 1 Jun 2006 - 'wonderful'; 2 Apr 2007 - 'forest'; 5 Apr 2007 - 'authentic'; 3 May 2007 - 'urgent'; 9 July 2007 - 'draft'
Note: The information pertaining to sandalwood was taken from Wikipedia. The word 'obfuscate' I found in a book that I was reading, and I couldn't resist including into this story.
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Erestor threw down the parchment in disgust and looked at Glorfindel reprovingly. "Why must your reports always be so obfuscate?"
The seneschal stared at Erestor, perplexed. Obfuscate? Glorfindel shook his head. He could never fathom why the advisor insisted on using words that no one knew the meaning of. Although desperate to find out, he decided against asking Erestor what it meant. He could always try and find out later from someone else - providing, of course, there was someone else who had actually *heard* of the word.
"The report is a draft only. I plan to clarify some details when I have the opportunity to do so. Remember, you did say this was urgent," Glorfindel said calmly.
"So I did." Picking the report up once more, Erestor scanned it again before commenting, "For a moment, I thought you did not know what I meant by 'obfuscate' until you mentioned you would clarify some details."
Glorfindel tried to appear nonchalant. "Surely you are not implying that I am a dullard? I knew very well what you meant."
Erestor smiled. "No, just sometimes a little…obtuse."
To Glorfindel's ears, 'obtuse' sounded very much like 'dullard', but he refrained from commenting. Instead, he pointed to the small box standing on Erestor's desk. "Is that authentic sandalwood?" he asked.
"Can you not smell it?"
"I can smell sandalwood, yes, but that does not mean the wood itself is sandalwood. It could just as easily be something else and infused with sandalwood oil."
"In this case, it is not. I purchased it many years ago from one who had a forest purely made up of sandalwood trees, and who made boxes such as this as well as produce oil."
Glorfindel picked up the box and gave it an appreciative sniff. "Smells wonderful. Did you know that the trees have to be at least 40 years old if you want commercially valuable sandalwood with high levels of fragrance oils? But apparently 80 or above is preferred."
Erestor leaned back in his chair. "Is this a game we are playing, Glorfindel?"
"Game?" This time it was Glorfindel's turn to lean back in his chair. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"First it was…what was it again? Something to do with the number 13."
"Triskaidekaphobia," Glorfindel said helpfully.
Erestor glared. "As I was saying…"
"No, we are not playing a game, Erestor," Glorfindel said a little tiredly. "I am but merely spouting useless bits of information in an effort to annoy you. And it is succeeding. Now, if you do not need me, I shall take this 'obfuscate' report and make it a little clearer for you."
Rising from his chair, he snatched the offending piece of parchment from Erestor's hand and stalked out of the room, leaving the darkling elf suddenly feeling bereft.
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Obfuscate: make unclear or hard to understand
Obtuse: annoyingly slow to understand; dense, dull, imperceptive, slow, slow-witted.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 9
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 420
Summary/Notes: Elrond has stern words for Erestor. The prompts used were 3 Apr 2006 - 'stop'; 24 Jun 2006 - 'obscure'; 14 Apr 2007 - 'match'; 15 Apr 2007 - 'wax'; 27 May 2007 - 'proud'; 30 May 2007 - 'cuff'; 3 June 2007 - 'traitor'
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Striking a match, Erestor lit the candles one by one. For a while he stood there, watching the wax as it slowly trickled down each of the candles to pool in the little dishes they were standing in. The discussion - if one could call it that - with Glorfindel that afternoon had remained uppermost in his mind for the rest of the day. He knew he had offended his lover. Admittedly, Erestor had a fondness for using unusual words, and had a habit of using them, knowing that virtually no one else knew what he meant. But as soon as someone tried to turn the tables on him by telling him something *he* didn't know, then he became almost belligerent.
He sighed, wondering how he could make it up to Glorfindel. The seneschal was proving to be more than just patient with him, but Erestor feared that his betrothed's patience was beginning to wear thin.
Adjusting the cuff on his robe, he decided he would go down to the kitchens and have the cook prepare some of Glorfindel's favourite sweetmeats. At least if he was going to apologise, he may as well help sweeten the apology with something he knew Glorfindel would like.
Stepping purposefully to the door, he opened it only to find a fist almost hitting him on the nose. His gaze travelled past the fist to land on Elrond's face, who was looking…displeased.
"Going somewhere, Erestor?" he asked.
Erestor resisted the strong urge to fidget like an elfling. "To the kitchens to organise some sweetmeats for Glorfindel," he said, annoyed that his voice sounded a little squeaky.
"As a peace offering?"
The darkling elf sighed. "That, together with an apology. I take it that is why you are here?"
Elrond shook his head. "Erestor, sometimes you are too proud for your own good. Do you have any idea how you make Glorfindel feel? Your use of obscure words, the way you then try to belittle someone when they try and tell you something you do not know…yes, I heard the whole story from Glorfindel." Elrond's gaze was stern. "This *has* to stop, Erestor."
"I know," Erestor said quietly.
"Do you?" Elrond countered. "He loves you, mellonen. You are soul-mates, yet you try and do all in your power to prove otherwise. Why?"
"Because I somehow feel a traitor to Gil-galad."
Elrond was dumbfounded. "A traitor?" he asked stupidly as he slumped against the doorframe. He shook his head once more. "Now I really *have* heard everything," he muttered.
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Elvish translations: mellonen - my friend
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 10
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warnings: Hints of sexual abuse
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 592
Summary/Notes: More details emerge about Erestor's past. The prompts used were 8 Apr 2006 - 'bed'; 13 Jun 2006 - 'between'; 7 Jul 2006 - 'time'; 10 Jul 2006 - 'regret'; 5 Sep 2006 - 'warrior'; 17 Sep 2006 - 'shame'; 25 Oct 2006 - 'fire/flame'; 7 May 2007 - 'queer'; 13 May 2007 - 'zealous'; 21 May 2007 - 'boast/boastful'; 29 May 2007 - 'tilt'; 2 June 2007 - 'obsession'; 6 July 2007 - 'boil'
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"You need not tell me that I am being foolish, Elrond. I tell myself this over and over." Erestor stood aside to allow the elf-lord entry.
One of the candles had begun to tilt, and Elrond carefully straightened it, its flame barely flickering with the movement.
"I confess I find some of your thoughts…queer. Not to mention your use of strange words; that is almost an obsession with you."
"I know," Erestor said quietly. "Even as an elfling words had a fascination for me; every time I learned a new one I would boast to my parents. My Adar, in particular, became very frustrated with me, and would often tell me he wished I would be as zealous with my weapons training as I was with my words." The advisor stared at Elrond, his face pale. "I do love Glorfindel, but I can not seem to rid myself of these feelings."
"You are not being a traitor to Gil-galad. If anything, he was a traitor to you." Elrond smiled mirthlessly at Erestor's startled look. "I know more about what happened between the two of you than you realise. Gil-galad took great pleasure in telling me the details of what he did."
"You knew?" Erestor whispered in disbelief.
"Aye. And believe me when I say that I had no desire to know." Elrond gazed at his advisor solemnly. "I was angry at Gil-galad for doing what he did, and I was angry at you for allowing him. How I wanted to speak to you, make you somehow understand that you did not deserve the treatment he meted out to you…except I did not know how to approach you. And so to my eternal regret and shame I kept quiet."
With a sigh, Elrond sat down in a chair, and indicated to Erestor to do the same. Once the advisor was seated, Elrond continued, "Gil-galad was my king; I owed him my allegiance. As a warrior, he was formidable, his strategies sound. He cared about his men and was not afraid to show it. But…"
"He cared for me, in his own way," Erestor said quietly.
"Yes, I suppose he did," Elrond said heavily. "But it made my blood boil nevertheless every time he told me his latest tale."
"Then you also know he was rarely gentle with me."
Elrond nodded. "And that he tied you to the bed, that he would penetrate you with various objects, not to mention use a whip on you." The elven lord shuddered. "He told me that he took particular satisfaction marking you with the whip."
"At least he never drew blood," Erestor murmured.
"Have you mentioned any of this to Glorfindel?"
"Only some of it. I have not had the courage to tell him everything."
"Mayhap you should." Both elves were quiet, and then Elrond asked, "Have you and Glorfindel…?"
"Made love?" Erestor finished. "Aye; the night twins returned. Apparently he was under instruction from you to 'ravage me senseless'. The glare that Erestor gave Elrond made the elf-lord smile a little shamefacedly. "He was so gentle with me that I almost wept. It was nothing like what I had experienced at the hands of Gil-galad."
"Then go and find him, mellonen. Tell him. The time has long passed for you to be keeping secrets from him. More importantly, you must finally let go. Accept that Gil-galad was for all intents and purposes a selfish fool who never understood what love was."
Erestor rose from his chair, resolution on his face. "You are right, Elrond. It is time."
************************
Elvish translations: Adar - father
mellonen - my friend
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 11
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warnings: Sexual abuse
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 835
Summary/Notes: Erestor finally tells Glorfindel more. The prompts used were 20 May 2006 - 'tears'; 21 May 2006 - 'true'; 24 May 2006 - 'rose'; 9 Jun 2006 - 'red'; 24 Sep 2006 - 'skin'; 29 Sep 2006 - 'call'; 17 Oct 2006 - 'blood'; 16 June 2007 - 'jerk'; 20 June 2007 - 'regal'
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Glorfindel came awake with a jerk. Someone was knocking insistently at his door. The seneschal groaned. His head felt thick and muzzy from having consumed one too many goblets of wine at dinner.
"I am coming," he muttered irritably. 'Probably the twins,' he thought as he rubbed his hand tiredly across his eyes. Yet, when he opened the door, he was startled to see Erestor standing before him, holding a plate of - wait, was that his favourite sweetmeats? - in his hand.
"I need to talk to you. I need to apologise. I need to say so many things to you that I do not know where to start! Here," the darkling elf thrust the plate towards Glorfindel, "these are for you. The cook would not cease her grumbling until I told her that the fate of true love rested upon these."
"'The fate of true love…?'" Glorfindel's gaze was disbelieving. "Erestor, you are not making any sense whatsoever. Not to mention my head is pounding, so try and make things as simple and as clear as possible for me to understand. Plus, do you have any idea what time it is?" He stared in confusion at Erestor, and began to wonder whether the elf standing agitatedly in the middle of his room truly was the advisor or an imposter, so odd was his behaviour.
"I love you."
"So you keep telling me," Glorfindel said a little sourly. "However, please understand me when I say that you have rather a strange way of showing it."
"I did not tell you everything that Gil-galad did to me."
"I gathered that. And I suppose you think now is the best time?" Glorfindel placed the sweetmeats on the table. He sat down on a nearby chair and looked at the advisor.
In Erestor's eyes, the seneschal looked almost regal, and for some strange, unknown reason it made him want to drag Glorfindel to his bed and demand that the seneschal make love to him. How Glorfindel could look so beautiful despite the obvious discomfort he was in was probably a question Erestor would never find an answer to, and he shook his head to clear away any unruly thoughts.
"Well, Erestor?"
"You look so beautiful," Erestor blurted out, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Glorfindel. The darkling elf looked around the room, and his eyes lit upon an empty wine bottle that the seneschal was using as a candle holder. Picking it up, he blew out the candle before removing it and laying it on the table.
Glorfindel watched Erestor's movements, wondering what the other elf was doing. Erestor caught his gaze.
"A bottle was one of Gil-galad's favourite toys," he began conversationally.
"Favourite toy?" Glorfindel echoed. "For what?"
Erestor continued as if he hadn't heard. "He at least had the courtesy of oiling it before he used it in me."
"In you?" Glorfindel's face paled. "He inserted bottles into…?"
"Aye. The thickest part, might I add. Gil-galad took great pleasure in seeing how far my opening could be stretched. I was never really prepared for it," Erestor continued in a monotone, "and it would always hurt. But I let him do it because I loved him, and I thought that what he did was because he loved me. Naïve, was I not?"
Glorfindel could not reply, only stare at his betrothed, his aching head forgotten.
"Gil-galad liked to mark me with a whip. He loved to see the red welts on my skin. At least he was careful not to draw blood, but the sting of the whip would remain with me for days. He would always try and be creative, wanting to leave some sort of 'design' on my back, my buttocks, my thighs…any part of my skin that would not be seen by others. You know, of course, about the ring he liked to place around my member, or that he enjoyed tying me to the bed so that I was helpless. One time, he drugged me, tied me to the bed and let others use me while he sat back and watched. But only the once. He told me later that he found he became jealous when he saw them take their pleasure from my body, and that it would not happen again."
"Enough, Erestor." Glorfindel's voice was pained. "I do not want to hear any more of Gil-galad's perversions." He rose from the chair and took Erestor into his arms. "What he did to you was wrong, melethen," he whispered into the advisor's hair. "I will not call you a fool for allowing him to do such things to you, for you were blinded by love. I lay the blame solely at Gil-galad's door. If he were alive today, he would not be for long, for I would kill him for hurting you and abusing your trust."
Erestor said nothing, and after a moment Glorfindel realised it was because the darkling elf was crying. The seneschal tightened his hold, his own eyes filling with tears.
************************
Elvish translations: melethen - my love.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 12
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel main pairing, Legolas/Lindir this part
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Some elf-smut again…
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 825
Summary/Notes: Legolas has no idea what has hit him. The prompts used were 27 Mar 2006 - 'water'; 22 Apr 2006 - 'invitation'; 10 May 2006 - 'planned';19 May 2006 - 'hard'; 11 Sep 2006 - 'lick'; 24 Sep 2006 - 'touch'; 26 Sep 2006 - 'fingers'; 14 July 2007 - 'hunger/hungry'
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"Are you hungry?"
"It depends," Lindir said, lying back in the boat, the sun caressing his face.
"Depends on what?" Legolas asked, withdrawing the oars from the water. Lindir opened his eyes, and the prince noted with interest the gleam in the minstrel's eyes.
"On what 'food' you have to offer."
A shiver of anticipation ran down Legolas' spine. However, he feigned ignorance as he said, "Well, I do not know what the cook has made, but I am sure our picnic hamper has many delicacies that, hopefully, would tempt you."
"I was not referring to what the picnic hamper might contain." Lindir's voice was low, seductive, and Legolas felt a certain body part begin to stand to attention.
"Then what…?" Legolas' eyes widened as he took in the predatory look the minstrel was giving him.
"I think you know," Lindir whispered, sitting up and drawing closer to the prince. "Surely you are no innocent?"
Legolas shook his head, his voice failing him.
"Good. For I see something before me that I am *very* hungry for, and am desperate to feast upon."
Lindir almost laughed as Legolas re-applied himself with considerable vigour to rowing the two of them to the small island in the lake. Once they reached it, both jumped out and dragged the boat up onto the shore.
Legolas was panting, but he was not sure if it was from the exertion of rowing, or the thought of what Lindir planned to do with him. So he was unprepared for Lindir's next words.
"Shall we have some lunch? I am sure cook has excelled herself, as always." That said, Lindir reached into the boat and took out the hamper before walking towards a small rocky outcrop right at the shoreline.
Legolas stared at the retreating back, stunned. Then his lips curved into a slow smile, his eyes taking in the slim figure, not to mention taut buttocks encased in fitted leggings, as well as the almost sheer tunic that allowed the prince to take in the smooth back. He hardened as he thought of how he would like to run his fingers along the translucent skin, skimming down till they reached those delightful buttocks. Eyes closed, Legolas imagined himself spreading them to reveal the rosy aperture, shuddered at the thought of his tongue moving over the quivering opening. He groaned, his hands fumbling at the lacings of his leggings, his shaft so impossibly hard that he felt that one touch would make him explode.
"Let me help you."
Legolas almost yelped in surprise; he was so lost in his fantasy that he was unaware Lindir was standing before him. Before he could even say anything, Lindir's fingers were successfully doing what his own could not.
The minstrel dropped to his knees and eyed with considerable appreciation what was before him. "We are impatient, indeed," he murmured, inhaling the musky scent. His tongue flicked out to catch the pre-come that was glistening on the tip.
Legolas whimpered at the touch, and then his eyes closed in ecstasy as he felt Lindir's mouth engulf him. With hands fisted in the minstrel's hair, Legolas allowed himself to drown in the sensations coursing through him, Lindir's talented mouth bringing him ever closer to the brink. When the minstrel began to hum, Legolas cried out, the vibrations catapulting him over the edge and his seed erupted into the willing throat.
Lindir continued to lick the softening member, ensuring that no drop was lost before finally raising his head and gazing at the dazed face above him.
"Better?" he asked mischievously.
Legolas dropped to his knees. "Better?" he asked incredulously. "Words could not even begin to describe how I feel," he whispered.
"Good, I hope," Lindir said a little smugly.
"Oh, much better than 'good', melethen." Legolas' gaze had cleared, and he leaned forward and kissed the minstrel, moaning as he tasted himself in Lindir's mouth. Incredibly, he could feel himself hardening again. "I want you," he ground out, pressing himself against Lindir's body.
"Then have me. There is oil in the hamper." The minstrel's voice was husky with desire.
Legolas needed no further invitation. He pulled his tunic over his head, not caring whether he tore anything. His leggings were disposed of, the task made easier as neither elf wore any footwear. Then he reached out towards Lindir and rent the minstrel's tunic apart before leaning in and latching on to one of the nipples on Lindir's chest, laving it with his tongue and biting it so that it stood in a hardened peak.
Lindir gasped when Legolas began his assault, and then whimpered as his other nipple received the same treatment. "More," he whispered.
Legolas raised his head. "Aye, I will give you more," he growled. "And I shall ensure that all will see that you belong to me."
The minstrel shivered in anticipation. "Then do it," his voice giving clear indication that he could not wait.
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Elvish translations: melethen - my love
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 13
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warnings: Talk of sexual abuse
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 542
Summary/Notes: Erestor continues his story. The prompts used were 25 Mar 2006 - 'master'; 31 Mar 2006 - 'vulnerability'; 2 Apr 2006 - 'hiding'; 5 Apr 2006 - 'whisper'; 15 Apr 2006 - 'secret'; 23 May 2006 - 'slave'; 28 May 2006 - 'searching'; 21 Aug 2006 - 'forbidden'; 22 Aug 2006 - 'guilt' and 'skirt'; 24 Aug 2006 - 'promiscuous'; 4 Sep 2006 - 'punish/punishment' and 'golden'; 11 Sep 2006 - 'justice'; 2 July 2007 - 'concern'; 15 July 2007 - 'cold'; 21 July 2007 - 'charm'
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"Glorfindel?"
"Hmm?"
"I feel a little cold; will you hold me?"
Glorfindel looked at Erestor with some concern. "You have always been feeling cold of late. Should you not be seeing Elrond?"
The darkling elf shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "For too long my thoughts have dwelt in the shadows; now that they have finally felt some warmth, they are loathe to return. And when they do, that is when I feel cold."
Erestor's vulnerability made Glorfindel feel suddenly more protective of his lover than before. What Gil-galad had done to the advisor had horrified the golden warrior. If the king was alive today, Glorfindel would have taken great pleasure in devising a suitable punishment for him, whether he was king or not.
"What are you thinking of?" Erestor's voice was a whisper, yet his gaze searching, his mien sombre.
"Thinking of how I would mete out justice to Gil-galad if he was alive today," Glorfindel answered truthfully.
"Do not," Erestor replied tiredly. "What is done is done. Even if he was still alive, punishing him will not reverse what happened."
"Yet you still feel guilt over his death, something you had absolutely nothing to do with."
"I do not."
"You do; do not skirt the issue, Erestor. Tell me, why did you keep a secret what Gil-galad did to you? Was it some sort of punishment you decided to mete out to yourself for your so-called guilt? Did you believe after Gil-galad died that you deserved what had been done to you?"
Erestor stared at Glorfindel. "I do not know," he finally replied. "Mayhap I did." He shifted slightly in his chair. "He was very good at belittling me, Glorfindel, to the point where I began to believe what he told me. He saw himself as my master, and I his slave. Anything I did was purely for his pleasure, and his alone. If he saw me with another elf, he accused me of being promiscuous. In the end, I was forbidden to be with another elf unless he was present. Otherwise, I would be punished." The darkling elf's voice was quiet, monotone.
"Even though I loved him, there were times when I felt I could no longer take any more. But he somehow always managed to sense this and, when he did, he would turn on the charm, and I would once more find myself under his thrall, allowing him to do to me whatever he wished."
"Did anyone else know?"
Erestor thought momentarily of Elrond, but decided against mentioning to Glorfindel what the elf-lord had told him. He did not want Glorfindel to direct any of his animosity towards Elrond when, in truth, Elrond could not have done anything. Any attempt by the then Herald would only have resulted in Gil-galad's wrath falling upon his head.
"No. Gil-galad was careful of the image he presented to his people."
Glorfindel's eyes narrowed; he suspected the Erestor was hiding something, but decided for now not to push the issue.
"I am glad you finally told me, melethen. I know this can not have been easy for you," he said quietly.
"So am I." The darkling elf made himself comfortable, laying his head on Glorfindel's shoulder, and closed his eyes.
************************
Elvish translations: melethen - my love
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 14
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lothvaen, Elladan
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 776
Summary/Notes: Elladan muses, and things come to a head with Elrohir and Lothvaen. The prompts used were 22 Mar 2006 - 'lonely'; 4 Apr 2006 - 'dawn'; 11 Apr 2006 - 'flirt'; 12 Apr 2006 - 'shy'; 16 Apr 2006 - 'blush'; 20 Apr 2006 - 'three'; 26 May 2006 - 'sleeping'; 20 Jun 2006 - 'unfaithful'; 6 Oct 2006 - ''diplomatic/diplomacy/diplomat'; 2 Nov 2006 - 'letter'; 25 July 2007 - 'tutor'
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Elladan was feeling lonely. It had been months since he received Orophin's letter and, while he was still saddened that his relationship with the Galadhel had ended, he was ready to move on. Elrohir was content to go months on end without someone in his life, but Elladan was not. He needed companionship.
He had not spoken to his brother any further about his relationship with Lothvaen, and began to wonder if there was still something between the two of them. Certainly they had not been seen together for a few weeks now, leading to persistent speculation that Elrohir and Lothvaen were no longer a couple. Elladan sighed. There were times when he was tired of the interest shown in both him and his brother. He had lost count of the number of ellyn and ellith that had approached them, hoping that either of the twins would favour them. Some would flirt; others were too shy and would merely stand there and blush.
Shaking his head, Elladan stood and started to make his way back to the house. He had been up since dawn, unable to sleep with too many thoughts crowding his head. But now he was tired, and decided he would get some rest before dinner. He wondered if Erestor would be there; his former tutor had not shown for the last three nights, though Glorfindel had reassured all and sundry that the advisor was well. But Elladan sensed the underlying concern within the seneschal.
As he made his way back, Elladan espied his twin with Lothvaen, and stopped. The two elves were deep in conversation, but there was nothing…loving about them. It was if they were just friends having a discourse of some sort. As Elladan continued to watch, he could see the frustration on his brother's face, while Lothvaen seemed close to tears. Whatever the two were discussing, it was not going down well, especially with the scribe. Moments later, Lothvaen turned and walked rapidly away from Elrohir, leaving the younger twin with a scowl on his face.
Deciding there was no point in pretending he hadn't seen anything, Elladan approached his brother. "I take it you said something that Lothvaen did not particularly like?" he asked mildly as soon has he was close enough.
Elrohir turned a disgruntled face to his brother. "I wish I were as diplomatic as Adar," he said. "Unfortunately my tact is sadly lacking."
"What happened?" Elladan asked with some concern.
"We are no longer together."
"Elrohir, the two of you have not been seen together for some time now."
"I know, but you may now consider it official. And I have officially broken his heart."
Elladan looked at his brother. "I am sure you did not mean to, tôren," he said quietly. "You sometimes just have an unfortunate way with words."
Elrohir snorted. "Unfortunate? It was more than 'unfortunate', Elladan." He sighed gustily. "Even though Lothvaen and I have not been together lately, I have not been with anyone else. However, not only did he accuse me of being unfaithful during that time, but also during the time when we *were* together."
"Where in Mordor did he get that idea?" Elladan was astonished.
The younger Peredhel shook his head. "He saw me together with Saelbeth and came to the wrong conclusion. When I tried to explain to him that we were just friends, that Saelbeth was with Silinde, he would not listen. He accused me of sleeping with Saelbeth. Needless to say, after that, my tongue ran away with me, and things went rapidly worse from there."
Elladan drew his brother into his arms. "I am sorry," he said simply.
"I am glad you do not judge me," Elrohir said quietly.
"I know you, that is why," Elladan responded. "You have always been the more impetuous, and there are times when you do not think before you speak."
"Thank the Valar you do," Elrohir chuckled. "One of us needs to be blessed with some sort of tact."
"A shame you were not blessed with anything at all," Elladan drawled.
Elrohir looked at his brother in disbelief, but then saw the mirth twinkling in Elladan's eyes.
"Why, you…" Elrohir punched his brother on the shoulder.
"Ow! That hurt!"
"It was supposed to, you wretch!"
Elladan rubbed the spot where his brother hit him. "You know I am but merely teasing you, tôren. I am sorry if I offended."
Elrohir sighed. "I know. I apologise for hitting you." A mischievous look appeared in his eyes. "Shall I kiss it better for you?" he teased. His mien sobered, however, as he noted the strange look on his brother's face.
************************
Elvish translations: Adar - father
ellith - female elves
ellyn - male elves
Galadhel - tree elf
Peredhel - half elf
tôren - brother
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 15
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Elf smut
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 844
Summary/Notes: It is Erestor's begetting day. 28 Mar 2006 - 'shhh!'; 29 Apr 2006 - 'pillow'; 3 May 2006 - 'deep'; 18 May 2006 - 'kiss'; 22 May 2006 - 'delectable'; 25 Aug 2006 - 'begetting day' and 'dark elf'; 2 Oct 2006 - 'sword'; 20 Oct 2006 - 'eager'
************************
Waking up, Glorfindel turned his head to look at Erestor. The advisor was still deep in sleep, his hair in disarray on the pillow. The seneschal smiled. His lover really looked rather delectable, and Glorfindel couldn't resist the temptation to kiss Erestor.
"Mmm…"
"Maer aur, melethen."
Erestor stretched, an act copied by Aranel at the foot of the bed as she woke from her slumber, a little disgruntled at having been disturbed.
"Maer aur, Glorfindel."
"Happy begetting day."
Erestor stared, puzzled. "Is it? Surely it can not…"
"It is, Erestor. Had you truly forgotten?"
The advisor blinked. "Is it really that day?"
Glorfindel raised himself. "Yes, it is, and I have arranged it so that we both do not have to work."
"Why?"
"Why? Because I have organised it so that we celebrate your begetting day!" Glorfindel said with some exasperation.
"But I have not celebrated my begetting day for a long time."
"Which changes as from now, melethen, whether you like it or not." Glorfindel leaned down and gave his lover a thorough kiss, making the advisor's toes curl.
"If that is how we are starting the celebration, then I have no objections," Erestor said.
Glorfindel grinned. "Good, because there is more of that coming. In fact…" He proceeded to kiss Erestor once more, leaving the advisor in no doubt as to where it was leading.
"Wait, Glorfindel…" he began to protest feebly.
"Shhh! No more talking from you. Today it is all about you. Relax, and enjoy." The seneschal gave a tug at Erestor's nightshirt. "This, however, definitely has to go. Off, now!"
Erestor sighed and did as Glorfindel ordered. In truth, he wanted this. Memories of the last time Glorfindel made love to him flooded his mind as he lay back, and he sighed once more, this time contentedly, as Glorfindel began his explorations.
He gave a small yelp as his lover bit one of his nipples, even though it was not hard. Glorfindel raised his head. "Did I hurt you?" he asked softly.
Erestor shook his head. "You just surprised me, that is all."
"Would you prefer if I did not do it?"
"I do not know…it is not something you had done before."
Glorfindel smiled. "Then let me continue, melethen. I promise I will make it better."
Erestor swallowed. "I know you will," he whispered.
The seneschal lowered his head and once more bit, but then laved the nipple with his tongue until it stood in a hard peak, smiling briefly as he heard Erestor moan before proceeding to do the same with the other nipple.
Once done, he gradually moved down, raining kisses on Erestor's chest and abdomen, his chin bumping the advisor's very obvious erection.
"Glorfindel…please…"
"Please, what?"
"Do not tease!"
"Tease? I would never do that."
Erestor raised his head slightly to glare at the seneschal. "Yes, you would. Now do something!"
"My, my, we are eager…"
"And you are not?"
The glint in Glorfindel's eyes was enough of an answer for the advisor, and confirmed when the golden-haired warrior said, "I am always eager for you, my dark elf. Never doubt that."
"Your dark elf?" Erestor queried.
"Aye. Your dark hair, your dark eyes…most definitely my dark elf. My very beautiful dark elf. Ervainen vorn. I have called you this before, remember?"
"I do, now," Erestor said huskily, and then his head dropped back as Glorfindel took his erection in his mouth. The advisor began thrusting his hips, only for his lover to pin him down to the bed. Erestor was resorted to bunching the sheet in his fists, his breathing harsh as he felt his impending orgasm. When it came, his voice reverberated around the room as Glorfindel proceeded to swallow all that was being given to him.
"Oh, my…" Erestor breathed.
Glorfindel made his way back up the bed. "Enjoy that, did we?" he asked, not without a small sense of satisfaction at having once again unravelled the darkling elf.
Erestor caught the underlying tone in the seneschal's voice. "Conceited elf," he muttered without rancour.
"Ah, but you love me anyway."
"May the Valar help me, but I do." Erestor's eyes turned downwards. "Now what shall we do with this, hmm?"
Glorfindel followed the advisor's gaze to his erection. "Any suggestions?"
"I can think of one. Shall we find out if your 'sword' fits into my 'sheath' as well as it did the last time?"
The seneschal looked at his lover gravely. "Are you truly comfortable with me doing that?"
Erestor nodded. "More than anything. You are nothing like what Gil-galad was and you never will be. Despite my fears, despite my doubts, I know this." The darkling elf raised his hand and gently stroked Glorfindel's face. "If there is one thing I truly want on my begetting day, then it is for you to make love to me."
"Oh, I will make love to you, never fear, ervainen vorn. And not just today, but every day, for the rest of eternity."
Erestor smiled mischievously. "Good. I was hoping you would say that."
************************
Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one
maer aur - good morning
melethen - my love
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 16
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 687
Summary/Notes: Elrohir comes to a realisation. The prompts used were 23 Mar 2006 - 'sinful'; 21 Apr 2006 - 'balcony'; 23 Apr 2006 - 'sneeze'; 25 Apr 2006 - 'shimmer'; 2 May 2006 - 'confessions'; 11 May 2006 - 'lotion';13 May 2006 - 'itch'; 6 Jun 2006 - 'faint'; 18 Jun 2006 - 'unsure'; 25 Sep 2006 - 'foot/feet'; 29 July 2007 - 'callous'
************************
Standing on the balcony, Elrohir stifled a sneeze. For some reason he was finding the pollen particularly bad this spring, and was at the stage of asking his father for a remedy against the sneezing. Not to mention the constant itch. Perhaps Elrond had a lotion for that. He had heard of mortals suffering from such a thing, but never an elf. Maybe it was because he was a Peredhel that he was more susceptible.
His mind went back to his last conversation with Elladan. His brother had acted a little oddly when Elrohir had jokingly suggested about kissing his hurt better, and Elrohir wasn't sure whether it was because the younger twin had said it, or whether it was because Elladan was harbouring some feelings for him that were not quite…brotherly.
'They are one soul split into two.' Galadriel's words came suddenly into his mind - words he was sure he had not been meant to hear - and, for a moment, Elrohir felt faint. Surely she did not mean…? Elrohir shook his head. The idea of he and his brother coming together like that surely was sinful. Yet a part of him was unsure. Was that the reason why neither of them seemed able to have a long-term relationship? Elrohir shivered, feeling the sudden need to speak to someone, anyone, about this - anyone except his brother.
Turning abruptly, his feet beat a rapid tattoo as he strode down the corridor leading…to Erestor's room. Elrohir stopped. Why Erestor? Did the advisor not have his own issues to deal with? Though the younger twin had no idea what those issues were, he felt the last thing Erestor probably needed was for Elrohir to come to him with his confessions. Yet his feet continued to inexorably take him to Erestor's room and, once he reached it, Elrohir hesitated only momentarily before knocking on the door.
When Erestor opened the door, Elrohir suddenly felt shy. The advisor appeared startled to see the younger elf.
"What is it?" the advisor asked. "Has something happened?"
Mutely Elrohir shook his head.
"Then what is it, pen-neth?" Erestor asked gently. "Has it something to do with Lothvaen?"
"Partly," Elrohir admitted. "And something else."
"Forgive me for asking, but why do you not go and speak to your father?"
Elrohir shrugged helplessly. "I do not know," he said. "My feet found their way to you."
"I am not sure I am the best person to seek for advice," Erestor remarked a little dryly.
"But you have always been there for us," Elrohir said quietly. "And, sometimes, it is easier to speak to you than it is to Adar."
Erestor grimaced slightly. "Very well. Come in, and I will try and help you the best I can." Entering the room, Elrohir stood uncertainly as the advisor shut the door. "Sit down."
Elrohir knew this to be more of a command than a request and sat, though he would have preferred to have stayed standing.
"I do not know where to begin," he murmured, staring down at his hands.
"Start at the beginning, pen-neth." Erestor's voice was gentle, the darkling elf sensing that what Elrohir wanted to tell him was not going to be easy. A feeling of disquiet came over the advisor; was what Galadriel and Elrond had seen so long ago now coming to pass?
"Lothvaen and I are no longer together."
"I know. Lindir has spent much time with his friend, trying to console him."
Elrohir smiled mirthlessly. "I gathered as much, considering the looks he has been giving me."
"Our minstrel knows that you are not a callous elf; however, that does not stop him from giving Lothvaen his support."
"I *do* care for Lothvaen, but…"
"…he is not the elf of your heart."
Elrohir shook his head. "No, he is not."
Erestor knew he had to ask his next question. "Do you think you might know who is?" he asked cautiously.
There was a shimmer of tears in Elrohir's eyes as he gazed helplessly at his former tutor. "I am afraid," he whispered.
"Afraid?"
Elrohir swallowed. "Afraid that it is my twin."
************************
Elvish translations: Adar - father
pen-neth - young one
Peredhel - half elf
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 17
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Lothvaen, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 670
Summary/Notes: Lothvaen decides. The prompts used were 29 Jun 2006 - 'spirit/fëa'; 23 Sep 2006 - 'harp' and 'flute'; 15 Oct 2006 - 'sing'; 19 Oct 2006 - 'play';24 Oct 2006 - 'dream/dreaming' and 'nightmare'; 28 Oct 2006 - 'music';1 Nov 2006 - 'meldir/meldis'
************************
"Why can I not have what you have?" Lothvaen's question tore at Lindir.
Trying to buy himself some time, the minstrel continued to pack away his harp and flute, wanting to find the right words so as not to upset his friend further. Only when he had packed away his music as well did he turn to face Lothvaen. "Sometimes," he began slowly, "one thinks one has found what seems right for them, only to find that, in reality, it is not."
"But you have found it in Legolas."
Lindir knew he could not lie. "Yes, I truly believe I have. But that does not mean that you can not as well. It is just not with Elrohir."
"It was such a beautiful dream, Lindir," Lothvaen said wistfully. "I thought I had truly found one who would indulge my fantasies. Now, it is a nightmare; one that I so desperately want to wake up from."
"Could you not have compromised?" Lindir asked.
Lothvaen shook his head. "What point is there in compromise when Elrohir does not love me?"
The minstrel found he could not answer that, but said, "Nevertheless, he should not have said what he did."
"He did not mean to hurt me, meldir. Do not forget I said some hurtful things to him as well."
Lindir sighed. "Admittedly, your accusations were baseless, Lothvaen. I confess even I am a little perplexed as to why you accused Elrohir of sleeping with Saelbeth. You are lucky that both he and Silinde accepted your apology after they found out. You should, at least, apologise to Elrohir as well, if nothing else."
"I know. But it will not be easy to face him again. I feel such a fool!"
"You are no fool, Lothvaen. You believed yourself in love. Mayhap it was just desire on your part as much as it was his. There is one out there who is truly the other half of your fëa."
"Do you think so?"
Lindir smiled. "Yes, I do."
"I suppose I should go and apologise to him." Lothvaen rose from his chair before looking at his friend. "And will you at least promise me that you will no longer glare daggers at him the next time you see him?"
The minstrel flushed slightly. "I can not help it. Whether he did it intentionally or no, he hurt you, and I do not like it when my friends are hurt. But I will promise to at least *try*."
Lothvaen smiled briefly. "Hannon le."
The scribe watched as his friend continued to tidy things away. "Will you sing tonight?" he asked suddenly.
Lindir stopped and frowned slightly. "No, not tonight. I had only planned to play my harp. However, if you wish for me to sing, I will. Why do you ask?"
Lothvaen shrugged slightly. "No reason, except that I know Legolas loves to hear you sing."
"I do sing for him in private, Lothvaen."
"Really? And what 'songs' would those be?" Lothvaen's tone was mischievous, yet it still took a moment for Lindir to work out what the scribe was inferring.
"Lothvaen!" The minstrel blushed furiously. "I shall not deign to dignify that question with an answer," he said, a little miffed at his friend's audacity.
The scribe laughed. "You are as red as a tomato, meldir! If that does not tell me, nothing will." Lothvaen continued to chortle, oblivious to the black look Lindir was giving him.
"Forgive me," the scribe finally said as his laughter died down. "I should not have teased you like that. But it is rare that I can. Normally you are immune to such things."
Lindir sighed and decided against saying anything further on that subject. Instead, he asked, "Were you not going to apologise to Elrohir?"
Lothvaen's mien sobered. "Aye. Will you come with me? At least that way he can see that you are no longer annoyed with him."
The minstrel sighed once more. "Very well," he conceded. "Let us do this now, then it is done."
************************
Elvish translations: fëa - spirit
hannon le - thank you
meldir - friend
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 18
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 543
Summary/Notes: Erestor and Glorfindel talk about the twins. The prompts used were 12 Jun 2006 - 'mindful'; 3 Jul 2006 - 'agreement'; 11 Jul 2006 - 'daydream'; 3 Aug 2006 - 'stiletto'; 26 Aug 2006 - 'mithril'; 8 Sep 2006 - 'iavas/lasbelin'; 9 Sep 2006 - 'leaves'; 16 Sep 2006 - 'memory'
************************
Lost in his daydream, Glorfindel did not hear the other elf approach.
"What are you thinking of?" The words were softly spoken so as not to startle the seneschal overmuch. Glorfindel turned, and then smiled as he saw who it was.
Erestor sat down next to his betrothed. "You were far away, melethen. Were you back in Gondolin?" The advisor knew that, sometimes, Glorfindel would think about his first life, the reminiscences often making the seneschal melancholy.
Glorfindel nodded in reply to Erestor's question. "I was thinking of Ecthelion's last gift to me. It was a stiletto, made of mithril. It was a beautiful thing, one he had especially made for me. But it was lost, as so many things were, when Gondolin fell."
"You miss him."
"I do. He was a good friend, a great warrior. He was the closest thing to a brother I could have had." Glorfindel smiled briefly before staring at the trees. "Iavas approaches. Already the days are getting shorter, the nights colder," he said softly. "Soon the leaves will begin to fall."
Erestor kept quiet, allowing Glorfindel more time with his memory. Soon, however, the reason why he sought his lover out came to the fore. "There is something I need to speak to you about. No, not about me," he added, seeing Glorfindel's questioning look. "It concerns the twins."
Understanding dawned in the seneschal's eyes. "The time has come, then?"
The darkling elf took a deep breath. "I think so. Elrohir came to me earlier today. I think he is beginning to realise that the other half to his soul is no other than Elladan."
"How does he feel about that?"
"Frightened, though he does his best to try and hide it."
"What of Elladan?"
Erestor shook his head. "I do not know. What I do know, however, is that we have seen very little of him. Mayhap it could be because he has come to the same realisation as his brother, but until someone actually speaks to him, we can not be certain."
"Has Elrohir spoken to Elrond?" Glorfindel asked.
"No. For some reason he decided I was easier to talk to than his father, something I find rather strange."
"He trusts you," Glorfindel said quietly. "You have always been there for him, listened to him. It is not that he can not speak to his father, just that he sees you as his mentor."
Erestor snorted. "His mentor? A fine mentor I am if I can not deal with my own issues, let alone someone else's."
Glorfindel smiled as he took Erestor in his arms. "Personally, I can not think of a better elf."
"Flatterer," Erestor grumbled, but the seneschal detected the pleased undertone in his lover's voice.
The darkling elf pulled away slightly and looked at Glorfindel seriously. "We need to be mindful; this will not be easy for either of them. For too long they have assumed that they were separate entities, and the idea that they are actually two halves of one soul will be hard for them to absorb."
Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "I suggest we go and speak to Elrond; mayhap Elladan has mentioned something to him. Either way, he needs to know that the time is upon us."
************************
Elvish translations: iavas - autumn
melethen - my love
Stiletto: n. a short dagger with a tapering blade. Origin Italian, 'little dagger'.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 19
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 724
Summary/Notes: Glorfindel and Erestor go to see Elrond. The prompts used were 6 Apr 2006 - 'fight'; 7 May 2006 - 'vacation'; 17 Aug 2006 - 'hostile'; 16 Aug 2006 - 'wink'; 21 Aug 2006 - 'journey'; 20 July 2007 - 'vision'; 3 Sep 2006 - 'waterfall'
************************
Trying to fight back his irritation, Elrond stared at the report in front him. Truth be told, the last thing he wanted was to be caught up with paperwork. He sighed, thinking it was time he took a vacation. Perhaps he could go and visit Galadriel and Celeborn in Lothlórien; anything to get away from the dull tedium that seemed to be his life lately.
So it was with pleasure that he welcomed the interruption by Erestor and Glorfindel, though the pleasure soon turned to concern when he noticed the serious miens on their faces. "Do I really want to know what it is that has occurred between the two of you?" he snapped.
"Not between us," Glorfindel said quietly, "but your sons."
Elrond straightened in his chair. "Elladan and Elrohir?"
Erestor nodded. "The vision you saw so long ago is coming to pass."
"Are you sure?"
"Aye," Erestor said. "Elrohir came and spoke to me. He is frightened, Elrond. He does not understand why this would happen, and it is obvious the idea of his brother being the other half of his soul makes him uncomfortable."
"And Elladan will be no different," Glorfindel added.
Elrond sat back in his chair, contemplating what his friends had told him. He was not surprised that Elrohir had sought out Erestor; the advisor had always had a soft spot for the younger twin, and never turned him away when Elrohir had been troubled by something.
"Both of them will need careful handling," Erestor said.
The elf-lord sighed. "I confess I do not know what to say to either of them." His gaze settled on Erestor. "You say Elrohir spoke to you; has Elladan said…?"
Glorfindel shook his head before Elrond had even finished the question. "Elladan has not approached us. We do not even know if he has reached the same conclusion as his brother."
"I suspect he has," Elrond replied wearily. "He came to me yesterday to say he was going to the small hut near the waterfall as he needed some time to himself. The thought never crossed my mind that he could have become aware of a shift in his relationship with Elrohir."
"Then it is best to leave him be for now but, when he returns, you will need to speak to them, to tell them that this was meant to happen."
"They will be hostile to the idea," Elrond warned, "yet you are right. I will speak to them, but separately, to find out exactly what their feelings are. However, it will not change the fact that we will have some difficult times ahead of us."
"We will help you in any way we can," Erestor said. "Why do you not send word to Galadriel? I am sure she would be willing to come here and speak to them and help them through."
Elrond nodded. "A good idea. I shall mind-speak with her; time is of the essence, and I do not want to lose any by sending a messenger."
Gazing at his friends appraisingly, Elrond saw that Erestor seemed more at ease than before. He had not spoken to the darkling elf since the night when he told the advisor to tell Glorfindel everything. "I take it all is well between the two of you?" he asked cautiously.
"If you mean did I take your advice, then yes." Erestor smiled. "It will still take some time but, now that Glorfindel knows, I feel my burden is much lighter than it was before."
The seneschal took Erestor's hand in his own. "I am going to ensure that your burden, as you call it, will soon be gone, for it was not a burden you should have taken upon yourself."
Elrond sent a quiet prayer to the Valar. "I am glad that you have finally spoken to Glorfindel," the elf-lord said approvingly. "I quite agree with him; this burden was not yours to carry, and never was." The elf-lord eyed the two elves shrewdly. "I take it that Glorfindel is using…appropriate measures?" His question was accompanied by a wink at Erestor, who flushed slightly.
"Trust me, Elrond, they are appropriate," Glorfindel replied, a smile on his face. "However, that is *all* you need to know." Then the seneschal became serious once more. "Contact Galadriel, mellonen. The sooner we can help your sons, the better."
************************
Elvish translations: mellonen - my friend
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 20
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 781
Summary/Notes: Elrohir goes in search of Elladan. The prompts used were 8 May 2006 - 'sneaky'; 25 May 2006 - 'moonlight'; 27 May 2006 - 'path'; 2 Jul 2006 - 'sunset'; 6 Jul 2006 - 'sick'; 30 Jul 2006 - 'exhausted'; 19 Aug 2006 - 'sunrise'; 28 Aug 2006 - 'Eldar'; 13 Sep 2006 - 'mate'; 5 Oct 2006 - 'glitter/glittering'; 21 Oct 2006 - 'magic'; 28 Oct 2006 - 'follow'; 4 Nov 2006 - 'oasis'; 7 Nov 2006 - 'exotic' and 'half-breed/half-bred'
************************
Having left after sunset, Elrohir now used the moonlight to help guide his way down the well-trodden path to the hut near the waterfall. He knew he would find his brother there; the two of them had, over the years, used it when they needed time to themselves, whether together or alone. It had been their oasis, especially in the time after their mother's attack and subsequent sailing, the natural beauty and quiet providing a soothing balm to heal shattered souls.
Elrohir was sick with worry and exhausted from lack of sleep as he tried to make sense of his feelings. He suspected that Elladan had come to the same conclusion as he had, but knew how tempestuous his brother could become if faced with something he felt he had no control over. The younger twin hoped that the hut and its surrounds had worked its usual magic and that his brother would be amenable.
Cresting the small hill, he stared down at the little valley before him. The hut was dark; there was not even any smoke rising from the chimney. Elrohir's heart sank. Where could his brother be?
"Looking for me, tôren?" Elrohir jumped at his brother's voice, and then grimaced. "You always were sneaky," he grumbled.
His eyes glittering with amusement, Elladan replied, "I know. It was always something I was good at."
Elrohir did not reply, and instead started making his way down the hill. Elladan's gaze followed his brother thoughtfully. He knew why Elrohir was here - the same reason he was. Elladan had spent the last two days contemplating the idea that Elrohir was supposed to be…more than a brother. If he was going to be honest, he had wondered what it would be like to make love to one who was virtually identical to himself, but to have Elrohir as a mate? *That* was something that Elladan was having difficulty in comprehending. With a sigh, he began to follow his brother.
"You know why I am here." Elrohir's words were out before Elladan barely had the chance to step inside.
"I do," Elladan responded gravely.
"And?"
"And *what*, tôren?"
"How do you feel?" Elrohir wanted to know.
"I have been trying to work that out for the last two days, and I am no closer to an answer, no more than you."
"What makes you think I do not have an answer?" Elrohir's question startled his brother.
"Then how *do* you feel?" Elladan asked a little harshly.
"Relieved," Elrohir admitted.
"Relieved?" Elladan echoed disbelievingly.
Elrohir nodded. "We belong with the Eldar, Elladan. I know that we have not made our choice, but we both have always felt closer to elves than men."
"I can not disagree with you there, Elrohir. I hear the whispers when I travel through mortal settlements; they call me an exotic half-breed."
The younger twin smiled gently. "Only because they do not know any better, Elladan," he said softly. "However, in the eyes of most men we are elves, and that is exactly what we are." He pulled out a chair and sat down, indicating to his brother he should do the same. "But we digress. Shall I tell you why I feel relieved?"
"Please."
"At first, the thought that we were soul-mates frightened me, that it was a sin. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense."
"How?" Confusion was evident on Elladan's face.
"Remember what I told you all those years ago? The words I overheard our grandmother say?"
Elladan nodded slowly. "That our souls were two halves of one. But did we not agree it was because we were the mirror image of each other, that when one of us started to say something, the other would finish it?"
"And that may still hold true," Elrohir replied. "However, during the last two days I began to wonder as to whether our grandmother had seen something about us that made her say those words."
"You mean that we would one day come together as lovers?"
"Aye. It would explain so much, Elladan. Why neither of us has been able to settle, why we have not been fully satisfied in any of our relationships. We have both been searching for the one with whom we would have the most affinity with, and in all that time we have overlooked the very one who would make each of us complete."
"Each other." Elladan rose from his chair. "Let us get some sleep, tôren," he said abruptly. "It is getting late." His gaze was unreadable, and Elrohir found he could only nod in agreement.
"Shall we get up early and watch the sunrise?" the younger twin asked.
Elladan smiled slightly. "Aye."
************************
Elvish translations: tôren - my brother
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 21
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen, ?
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 770
Summary/Notes: Lothvaen meets an elf and is intrigued. The prompts used were 26 Mar 2006 - 'silver'; 29 Mar 2006 - 'spanking'; 25 Jun 2006 - 'blonde'; 9 Jul 2006 - 'naughty'; 2 Nov 2006 - 'fright/frighten'; 3 Nov 2006 - 'package'
************************
"Well, well…who do we have here?"
Lothvaen spun around, startled.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you." The Galadhel eyed the scribe appreciatively. "You are a pretty little package. I think I will enjoy unwrapping you while I am here."
If jaws could literally drop to the ground, Lothvaen's would have, and he stared in disbelief at the elf before him. "How dare you!" he finally spluttered.
"I dare because I can, and because I will," the other elf replied, unperturbed. "I suggest you start getting used to it." The Galadhel moved closer to the scribe, and Lothvaen caught his breath. Despite the other elf's attitude, Lothvaen felt a frisson of excitement. "Tell me," the Galadhel began, "are you a naughty elf?"
"Nau…naughty?" Lothvaen stammered. He swallowed. "Why…why do you ask?" Inwardly the scribe cursed himself for suddenly being so nervous.
"Oh…just curious, that is all. You do know that naughty elves usually deserve a spanking, do you not?" The words were whispered into Lothvaen's ear, and the scribe felt his knees go weak.
"Nnnnno…" Lothvaen's voice was barely a squeak.
The other elf nodded solemnly. "'Tis a fact. So, if you have been naughty, then it stands to reason you should be spanked. Am I right?"
"Who…who are you?"
The Galadhel smiled. "Hmmm…should I tell you, or should I not?" He pretended to ponder. "A good question. I think, however, that I shall leave you guessing…for now." With those final words he turned and walked away, his silver-blonde hair glinting in the sunlight, leaving the scribe staring after him. Once the Galadhel had disappeared from his sight, Lothvaen stumbled to a nearby bench and sat down. It was there that Erestor found some minutes later, and taking in the shocked look on the scribe's face, the advisor rushed towards him.
"Lothvaen, what has happened? You are pale," Erestor asked, concerned.
The scribe shook his head. "I am fine," he murmured absently.
"Are you sure?" Erestor asked, believing the scribe was anything but.
Lothvaen nodded. "I am positive." He shifted slightly on the bench before asking, "Have we had someone arrive from Lothlórien?"
Curious about the deceptively casual tone in the scribe's voice, Erestor answered, "Galadriel."
"Then she has brought some of her guards with her."
"Of course she has. She can not travel unescorted." Erestor gazed quizzically at the younger elf. "Has one of them approached you and caused you trouble or insulted you, pen-neth? For if he has then you must advise both Elrond and Galadriel so that they can deal with him."
"No, he has not caused me any trouble, Erestor. Only that he did not tell me his name."
"Did you not ask?"
"Yes, I did," Lothvaen replied. "But he said he would keep me guessing for now."
"Keep. You. Guessing." Erestor enunciated each word carefully.
"He has silver-blonde hair."
"There are a number of Galadhil with silver-blonde hair," Erestor said. "But if you point him out to me, I will be able to tell you who it is."
Lothvaen shook his head. "No. He will tell me when he is ready." There was a dreamy expression on the scribe's face.
Erestor was bemused. He had no idea what to make of this. "Very well, pen-neth. If you would prefer to wait for him to tell you - if he does at all - then so be it. I shall not try and dissuade you." Rising from the bench, the advisor began to make his way back into the house, only for Lothvaen's voice to stop him. "He asked if I was a naughty elf."
Erestor turned back and stared. "He asked you *what*?"
"He asked if I was a naughty elf," Lothvaen repeated. "He said that naughty elves should be spanked. I like being spanked."
"I do not think I need to know this," Erestor said faintly. "Not to mention I have heard…noises…from your room that would give one some…indication…of what you like."
"Oh. I suppose I am a little noisy," Lothvaen said, shrugging slightly. "I did try and keep quiet; the gag helped. I much appreciate you suggesting that."
The advisor was, by now, wishing he were anywhere else and not having this conversation with Lothvaen. "I must go. I have much work to do," he said finally. The fact that it was untrue was completely irrelevant to Erestor; he only felt the need to suddenly get away. Turning abruptly, he all but ran back to the house, leaving the scribe smiling to himself.
"I will find out his name, one way or the other," he murmured. "It would be a shame not to…"
************************
Elvish translations: Galadhel - tree elf
Galadhil - tree elves
pen-neth - young one
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 22
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 597
Summary/Notes: Erestor and Glorfindel talk some more. The prompts used were 9 Apr 2006 - 'rainbow'; 24 Apr 2006 - 'lies'; 12 May 2006 - 'stolen';16 May 2006 - 'wise'; 30 May 2006 - 'storm'; 2 Jun 2006 - 'endurance'; 21 Jun 2006 - 'chastity'; 7 Jun 2006 - 'masked'; 26 Jun 2006 - 'fade'; 13 Jul 2006 - 'drunk'; 21 Oct 2006 - 'sapphire';16 July 2007 - 'lost'; 26 July 2007 - 'strain'; 1 Aug 2007 - 'games'; 8 Aug 2007 - 'daylight'
************************
Erestor breathed in deeply. The recent storm had left a fresh smell in the air that the advisor loved, and he smiled, his gaze on the rainbow that the remaining rain and emerging sunlight had created.
"You seem happy, melethen."
The darkling elf turned, his brown eyes meeting the sapphire ones of his lover. "I am. I love how things smell after the rain."
Glorfindel stepped further into the room, his gaze taking in the elf before him. Already the seneschal could see that Erestor was slowly freeing himself of the burden he had shouldered unnecessarily for so long. There was more expression on Erestor's face, the masked visage slowly disappearing as the darkling elf learned to truly smile again.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Glorfindel smiled. "Just thinking how much more relaxed you seem." Yet, the daylight that was now streaming through the window seemed to emphasise the paleness on Erestor's face, and Glorfindel's mien became sombre. "Something still bothers you, though," he said softly.
Erestor shook his head. "No, melethen, nothing bothers me. I just feel…free. Before, I felt as if I was lost in some wilderness of my own making. But you found me, wanted me, loved me. I know now that what I felt for Gil-galad is nothing compared to what I feel for you."
Striding forward, Glorfindel took his lover into his arms. He could feel the darkling elf tremble in his arms, and gathered him even more tightly in his embrace.
"I had no idea how great the strain was to keep this all to myself," Erestor whispered. "Only now do I truly understand that what I was doing to myself was not only harming me but all those around me."
"Ervainen vorn…" Glorfindel stopped, unsure of what he could say.
"He was my first lover," Erestor said. "My chastity was stolen from me. No, I should not say stolen, not really. I did go to him willingly, flattered that the king would show interest in me. But I was young, and I believed the words he told me."
"Erestor, I think you know that his words were lies."
The darkling elf nodded. "But not then. Even when he began his 'games' I did not see that. The first time he tied me to the bed, he was drunk. I did not stop him…could not stop him. I think he was more dangerous when drunk than when he was sober. Yet, he kept telling me he loved me, and so I let him continue, so blinded was I."
"He did not love you, melethen. He treated you like a toy, a plaything to which he could do whatever he pleased."
Erestor snorted. "He certainly did that. He would sometimes say he was testing my endurance, though I often felt that I had long since passed it."
"No more talk of this, Erestor. Now, we concentrate on the future - our future. Gil-galad belongs to the past, and there he shall remain."
"You are right," the advisor sighed. He raised his head to look at Glorfindel. "Have either of the twins returned?"
"Not yet. Elrond believes that Elrohir went in search of his brother."
"I do not think that was wise of him if he has," Erestor replied. "He was almost in a state of shock when he realised that Elladan was more than likely his soul-mate."
"We will find out soon enough, I expect," Glorfindel soothed. "All we can do is support them in any way possible, for it will not be an easy time for either of them."
************************
Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one
melethen - my love
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 23
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 509
Summary/Notes: Elladan has difficulty in believing. The prompts used were 13 Apr 2006 - 'fence'; 7 Apr 2006 - 'south'; 22 Jun 2006 - 'insult'; 8 Jul 2006 - 'piercing';27 Sep 2006 - 'restrain/restraint'; 16 Aug 2007 - 'expression'
************************
"We will need to return soon, tôren."
Elladan turned and looked at his younger twin before nodding. "You are right. We need to speak to Adar." He watched as Elrohir shifted slightly, and his eyes narrowed. "You have already spoken to him," he accused.
Elrohir shook his head. "Not Adar - Erestor."
"You spoke to *Erestor*?" Elladan asked disbelievingly.
"Aye, I did." Noting the look of annoyance on his brother's face, Elrohir rushed on, "I have always felt comfortable speaking to him, Elladan, and I *needed* to speak to someone!"
"Always the epitome of restraint," the elder twin mocked. "Did you not think that our father was probably the more appropriate person to speak to? Not to mention that Erestor obviously has his own issues to deal with. Yet you chose to burden him with something that is not his concern!"
"I think he already guessed," Elrohir said quietly.
"What?"
"I know that I overhead what our grandmother said to Adar, but I do not think that our father would have kept what he told her to himself. He would have at least told both Erestor and Glorfindel, of that I am certain."
"Certain or not, you should still have spoken to Adar first. *We* should be speaking to him first." Elladan turned away from his brother, frustration on his face.
"Do you accept that we are more than likely to be soul-mates?" Elrohir asked.
Elladan stared out the window, his gaze focussed on the south-facing fence that bordered the little hut. When he turned to face his brother once more, his face was devoid of any expression. "I do not know what to think," he admitted. "On the one hand, what you told me makes sense; on the other, though, I find the notion a little…far-fetched."
"Far-fetched?"
The elder Peredhel shrugged. "Would you prefer the word 'preposterous'?" he asked mildly.
"You are not taking this seriously," Elrohir said, annoyed at his twin's attitude.
Elladan raised an eyebrow. "I am not?" he queried. "Forgive me if I insult you, *tôren*, but I do not feel these 'feelings' as you seem to. So, yes, I have my doubts."
Elrohir did not miss the emphasis Elladan had placed on 'tôren'. "In other words, you are skeptical, but I do not think it will be for long. Soon, you will feel what I am feeling, and then you will understand." Elrohir rose from his chair.
"Do not expect that understanding to come too soon," Elladan said dryly. "Mayhap we should return today; the sooner we can sort this mess out with Adar, the better."
"Mess?" Elrohir's gaze was piercing. "I do not think it a 'mess', Elladan. Though, if it becomes one, it will be of your doing."
"You can not expect me to just accept everything you have told me as fact!"
Elrohir sighed. "No, I suppose I can not. Very well, if you wish to return today, then let us begin our journey now."
In silence the twins began packing their belongings, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
************************
Elvish translations: Adar - father
tôren - my brother
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 24
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 618
Summary/Notes: Elladan gets a dressing down from his twin. The prompts used were 14 May 2006 - 'blank'; 17 Jun 2006 - 'crawl'; 4 Jul 2006 - 'fireworks'; 26 Aug 2006 - 'troll'; 26 Oct 2006 - 'curse'; 6 Nov 2006 - 'summons'
************************
When the twins returned to the house, they found Glorfindel waiting for them. "Your father and grandmother wish to see you," he said softly, taking in the two very different expressions on the twins' faces.
"Grandmother is here?" Elrohir asked.
"Aye. She came two days past."
"But how…?" Elrohir began, but Elladan cut him off.
"Adar would have mind-spoken with her. She must have ridden almost non-stop for her to already be here."
"I believe she did," Glorfindel responded. "She saw the matter of grave enough importance to do so."
"And, of course, you know why she is here." The sarcasm was evident in Elladan's voice, and the seneschal frowned slightly. "Hence the summons to immediately see her and Adar," Elladan continued, his voice rising in increasing anger.
"Elladan!" Elrohir turned on his older twin, his own face flushed. "You go too far," he whispered to Elladan. "Glorfindel has done nothing to deserve your ire. Now cease!"
Surprised, Elladan stared at Elrohir. He opened his mouth to say something more, but immediately shut it again, seeing the anger glittering in the younger Peredhel's eyes. Suddenly, he had the sudden wish to crawl into some dark corner, away from his brother's anger. Glorfindel, he saw, was standing and looking at him, his face blank, whether it be from a desire not to show what he was thinking, or because Elladan had truly shocked him.
Elrohir turned to Glorfindel. "Could you please tell Adar and grandmother that we will be there as soon as we have had a chance to freshen up?"
The seneschal smiled grimly, understanding the underlying message. In the short time since the twins' return, it was obvious that Elrohir had more quickly accepted the idea that he and Elladan were soul-mates, whereas Elladan was proving to be resistant. 'There is going to be more than just fireworks before this is resolved,' Glorfindel thought as he turned and walked back into the house.
"Just *what* has gotten into you?" Elrohir demanded. "Can you not keep a civil tongue in your head?"
Elladan had the grace to look a little shame-faced. "I suppose you are going to call me a troll," he said weakly. When they were elflings, it was the name that Elrohir would call the elder twin after Elladan had brought him to anger. But Elladan's poor attempt at humour fell flat.
"We are no longer elflings, Elladan, even though your behaviour just now was that of a spoilt elfling in good need of punishment," he hissed. "Now I suggest you show some restraint when we go and see Adar and grandmother." Elrohir began to follow in Glorfindel's footsteps, then stopped when he realised his brother was not following him. "Are you coming?" he asked.
"Is this a curse we are under?"
Elrohir stared at his brother. "Define 'curse', Elladan," he responded dryly. "In my opinion, having you as my brother at this point in time is probably as close a definition to 'curse' as one could get."
"I do not blame your brother for thinking that, Elladan." Both turned to see Erestor at the top of the stairs, his gaze unwaveringly on the elder twin. "You owe Glorfindel an apology. He is with your father and grandmother in your father's study. Now go, both of you."
"Will you be there as well?" Elrohir asked.
Erestor's gaze softened as his focus shifted to the younger Peredhel. "Aye. Your father has requested that I be there, along with Glorfindel."
Elrohir smiled at his former tutor before turning back to his brother. "Come, Elladan." The younger Peredhel's voice was gentle, and the elder twin gave a small smile as he followed the other two elves into the house.
************************
Elvish translations: Adar - father
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Betrothal to an Elf Part 25
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Type: FPS
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Lothvaen/?, Elladan, Elrohir
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Beta: Aglarien
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Feedback: Yes please…
Archiving: Library of Moria; Melethryn; OEAM; Glorfindel Group Archive; otherwise, please ask
Word count: 1,016
Summary/Notes: Glorfindel makes a decision - sort of. The prompts used were 20 Aug 2006 - 'unique'; 3 Sep 2006 - 'rumour'; 12 Sep 2006 - 'demure'; 11 July 2007 - 'desk'; 15 Aug 2007 - 'solace'; 18 July 2007 - 'arrogant'
************************
The next morning saw the whole household on tenterhooks. Many were aware that something had eventuated between their lord and his sons, but had no idea what it was. Those who were with Elrond and the twins were grim-faced and refused to say anything, so speculation was rife as to what it was all about.
Erestor went to the library, hoping to find some solace amongst the books and scrolls. The conversation between Elrond and his sons had been nothing short of disaster. Elladan had continued with his surly behaviour, leading to some fraught moments between father and son.
Galadriel had sat quietly for most of the time, her mien placid, but her eyes were sharp as she took in what was happening before her. After one particularly tense moment she had finally spoken, addressing her eldest grandson. "The situation between yourself and your brother is unique, Elladan, this I grant. But your fates were woven in the tapestry of life long before even your father was born. I know this not easy for either of you; at least your brother is willing to listen and to try and understand." Then Galadriel had smiled. "But you, pen-neth, you I knew would be stubborn. However, trust what your heart has been telling you all this time, Elladan, and all will be well."
Elladan's eyes had widened at Galadriel's last words and, with an inarticulate cry, he had leapt up from his chair and ran out of the room, leaving its occupants bar one stunned.
"Galadriel? What did you mean?" Elrond had asked, but Galadriel's mien was almost demure as she smiled.
"You will find out, in time," she had said enigmatically before rising gracefully from her chair and following Elladan out the door.
With a sigh, Erestor shook his head. Obviously Galadriel knew something they did not, and Elrond was frustrated by the lack of this particular knowledge. Sitting down at a nearby desk, Erestor buried his face in his hands.
"Erestor, are you all right?"
Startled, the darkling elf raised his head and saw the concerned eyes of Lindir. He gave a wan smile. "I am fine, Lindir. Merely tired, that is all."
"It is because of what happened yesterday, is it not?" Lindir asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
"Aye, though I can not tell you…"
"I know you can not," Lindir interrupted. "Nor do I expect you to. However, the rumour-mill is already coming up with such implausible stories that one does not even hazard a guess as to how they actually started."
Erestor smiled weakly. "I have no doubt there will be even more before the day is through." He sighed. "I am afraid, Lindir, that things will be…unsettled for a little while yet." Both elves sat quietly for a few moments before Erestor asked almost casually, "How goes it between you and Legolas?" He watched with amusement at the flush that crept up the minstrel's face. "Ah…promising, then?" he asked, adding to Lindir's discomfort.
The minstrel swallowed. "Very promising, actually. He has asked if he could court me."
The advisor stared. "What? When? Why did you not say anything?"
"Well, actually, I never thought…we never thought…oh, Erestor, he is so wonderful, and kind, and he is very, very good in…ummm…actually, no, I should not say…"
"Say what?" Erestor asked, intrigued.
Lindir flushed even further. "Legolasisveryverygoodinbed," he said rapidly, averting his gaze from Erestor's amused countenance.
"That does not surprise me," Erestor said, trying to contain his laughter. "If the stories about his father are true, then Legolas obviously will have…inherited some of Thranduil's 'talents'."
"Oh." Lindir's voice was small. Then in an attempt to change the subject, he asked, "Do you know who the Galadhel might be that Lothvaen speaks of?"
Unsurprised by the sudden change of topic, Erestor shook his head. "I have not spoken to Lothvaen since his encounter with the Galadhel, and I am no closer to finding out who it is. However, Lothvaen seemed strangely unperturbed. Did you not find this to be so?"
Lindir nodded. "It is odd, indeed. Hopefully this Galadhel will soon make himself known. Lothvaen has been trying to find him for the last week, but has not been successful. It is almost as if he has disappeared."
"Do you think that…"
"…Lothvaen imagined him? I thought so initially, but Lothvaen is quite adamant that he met this Galadhel." Lindir shrugged.
Just then the door to the library opened, admitting one seneschal who was grinning broadly. "Erestor, I have come to the conclusion that we should have our binding ceremony next week. I am tired of waiting, and I can think of no better way to allay the tension than with a celebration."
The darkling elf rose from his chair. "How typically arrogant of you to make this decision without consulting me," he said quietly.
"Arrogant?"
"Aye, arrogant. First, you tricked me into making me ask *you* to bind with *me*, when it should have been the other way around, considering you were the one courting me. Now, you expect me to just happily fall in with your suggestion that we hold the ceremony next week. Well, I will not have it."
Lindir watched the confrontation between the two elves in fascination. "Actually, I think Glorfindel has a good idea. Why not have your binding ceremony next week? I already have the music written, so there is no problem there. And I am sure that Lord Elrond would not mind if your betrothal did not last the full year."
Erestor looked down at the minstrel. "Thank you," he said with some sarcasm, "for your 'input', Lindir, even though it was not asked for."
"Oh, you are perfectly welcome." The minstrel stood up. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and inform Lord Elrond that he should start the preparations for a wedding." Lindir walked nimbly out the door, leaving two slightly bemused elves in his wake.
"It seems, ervainen vorn, that the decision has been taken out of your hands," Glorfindel said, and smiled as Erestor merely sighed in resignation.
************************
Elvish translations: ervainen vorn - my dark beautiful one
pen-neth - young one
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
TBC in 'Married to an Elf', here.