Series: Changing Times 14
Title: Homecoming
Author: Naresha
Email: north_shore_fruitcake@yahoo.com.au
Type: FPS Slash
Pairing: Erestor/Thranduil
Rating: PG
Beta: Larien Elengasse
Summary: Erestor returns home.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, all
characters were created by JRR Tolkien and it is
not intended to cause insult or offence to the
persons referred to herein.
Feedback: Keeps Spitsy the plot bunny in carrots.
Archiving: Elffetish, Melethryn, Mirrormere,
OEAM, Writings of Resha, Slash Me Happy. -- All
others just ask!
Notes: This is the last instalment in this
series -- thanks to everyone who has followed this
story from the very start.
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"Your horse is still recovering from your journey
here, Erestor." Thranduil kept his hand lightly
on the other elf's arm.
"I know. But she will make it."
"But you will push her more than she can fairly
take? She will not make it at the speed at which
I know you shall travel. Take one of my horses."
Thranduil urged. "They are bred for speed and
they are well used to this terrain. Unless……You
feel you may not return……" The Wood Elf's voice
fell to all but a whisper.
Erestor took hold of the hand that had fallen
despondently from his arm, interlacing the thin
fingers in his own. "I swore to you that I would
return. And I shall." He kissed the fair
fingers lightly.
"Then take one of my horses, and they shall bless
you with a speedy journey." Thranduil kept an
almost desperate grip on Erestor's hands.
"But who shall look after Gwilwileth? She is not
used to these woods. She is still unsettled
here." Erestor protested, his hand resting upon
his horse.
"If I must, I will care for her myself. I would
not risk losing you a second time. I already
fear what will happen when you arrive in your
home land."
"Shh……" Erestor placed a finger upon the
protesting mouth. "I shall return. I promise.
And if it will stop this talk, then I shall take
one of your horses instead of my Gwilwileth." He
walked over to his horse, running a hand over her
back, smoothing the small patch of coloured fur
that gave her name."
"It is odd to see a horse with such markings."
Thranduil commented coming up behind Erestor.
"She has had them since she was a foal." Erestor
smiled as his horse nuzzled Thranduil's arm. "It
is good that she likes you. She is normally
quite selective in who she bestows her favours
upon."
Thranduil smiled and stroked the horse gently.
"Come." He guided Erestor away, and took him to
a black horse, introducing the two. "This is
Dúath,**" he said. "He is the one of the fastest
that has been bred in Mirkwood. He will carry
you well."
"And bear me to my destruction." Erestor sighed.
"Do not speak so grimly." Thranduil said,
resting his hands on Erestor's shoulders. "For
your time in Imladris may not be so."
"Then you do not know Lord Elrond. He is
stubborn and will not easily allow those close to
him to leave. He would rather give me half his
lands than see me disappear into your woods
forever."
"You have the strength to reject his every word.
You shall return, free from the fetters of
Imladris and Lord Elrond."
"Aye, I may indeed return free, but my heart
shall bear the weight of breaking another."
Thranduil pressed a finger to Erestor's lips
slowly. "Do not speak such things now, wait
until they have happened."
* * *
"Wait until they have happened." Thranduil's
heart ached as once again he thought of his words
to Erestor. With every week that Erestor was
gone, he wished with increasing fervour that he
had not said them, and he wished had gone with
Erestor. He had counted the days he had been
alone, knowing almost to the hour when Erestor
should return to his woods. But Erestor had not
returned and Thranduil had grown increasingly
grief-stricken with every passing day. He swore
he would not eat until the day Erestor returned
and handed him the food himself. No amount of
persuasion from friends or family could persuade
him to feel otherwise.
* * *
Erestor had never been happier to enter the
darkened woods than he was that day. He had
wrung his hands with despair at the thought of
what state Thranduil would now be in. Yet, he
had held off sending word that he would be
delayed, certain that either Elrond or Glorfindel
would return, allowing him to finally finalise
his business and sever his ties with the Last
Homely House. But, they had taken weeks longer
than he had anticipated and he had begun to
despair, digging his nails into his palms and
leaving red crescents in the white flesh; when
they finally arrived, he had all but been ready
to ride out and look for them in person. But
now, he was home. A slight smile flitted across
his lips as he realised that in only a matter of
weeks, he had found his true home. It was not
the one he had been born and raised in, nor was
it where he had spent the better part of his
life, but it was the place where his heart lay.
"Home is where the heart is," he said under his
breath, only his own ears and the trees hearing
him. Despite the towering trees effectively
hiding the sunlight, he felt warmth spreading
throughout his body; it was relaxation. It had
been a long time since he had felt it, but now he
was here, and Imladris and its inhabitants were
behind him; all the stresses, worries, and pains
that had grieved him for the past months had
finally given way. It was a nice feeling, an
unusual one, but a nice one nevertheless.
* * *
"Sire……" an elf bravely entered the regal bedroom.
"Your guest has returned. He is waiting for
you."
Thranduil looked up from his window seat, his
appearance drawn and wan, nothing like the
striking and physically imposing figure he was
well known to be. "Thank you. Bring him to my
chambers, I shall meet him in my tea room."
The younger, smaller elf nodded silently, backing
out of the room as quickly as he could politely
manage before returning to where he had left the
dark-haired Imladrin elf and tersely took him to
Thranduil's room.
Erestor jumped slightly as the door thudded
closed, his head instinctively turning towards
the noise.
"You came back……" A voice whispered.
Erestor looked toward the corner, narrowing his
eyes and finally discerning the shadowy shape.
"I promised I would."
"You took so long." Came the almost pitiful
reply.
"It was not through choice. Those I went to see
were not present for weeks. I nearly lost my
mind waiting, but I did not want to send false
promises or hopes because I did not know when
they would return. Nor did I wish to risk
seeking them out for fear of passing them without
knowing it. So I waited."
Thranduil crept from the shadows tiredly. "Was
the wait worthwhile?" He sank into a chair in
front of Erestor. "Shall you be returning
again?"
"Yes, it was. And no, I shall not be. I have
nothing to return for, I brought my belongings
with me." Erestor pulled a seat over and sat
opposite Thranduil, cupping his face in his hands
and lifting it up gently.
"You are staying?"
Erestor sighed and smiled. "My promise to return
was also a promise to stay."
Thranduil let out a long held breath and dropped
his head to Erestor's knees, sliding from his
seat, tears oozing from underneath his closed
eyes in happiness. "You have come back to me,"
he whispered.
"I have." Erestor stroked the blonde hair. "I
am home."
THE END.
* Gwilwileth = Butterfly
** Dúúath = Nightshade