Pairing: Elrond/Erestor, Lindir/Lothvaen
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and I am making no money from this
story. No copyright infrindgement is intended, and I write this with the
utmost respect for JRR Tolkien's writings and his world.
Beta: Aradiria, thanks for all your lovely comments and for getting all
my jokes.
Warnings: none, aside from the excessive fluffiness in here. They made me,
I swear.
Summary: A single night of plotting, confusion, and confessions.
A/N: Eawen, thank you for your encouragement and support, I couldn't have
finished this if you hadn't given me a little kick in the ass. :-D Thanks
also go to Orchyd Constyne for graciously allowing me the use of her Lothvaen.
I'd also like to thank BBMak, which explains the sappy bits. This was written
for Claudio's fic swap on Elf Fetish.
Text within "//" is Erestor's poetry, which I wrote myself so
blame me if it's horrible. And this ' ' would be thoughts. And these *...*
indicate emphasis. And I think that's it. Happy reading. Feedback is welcomed
and much appreciated.
"I do not know about this, Elrond. Erestor will not like being used in this way." The golden Elf said to his companion, voice hushed, hiding behind one of the large statues in the topiary garden.
"Glorfindel, he will not be used. I will explain everything to him. And there is no Elf other than Erestor that can pull this off believably. If he will not do it, we cannot succeed." The Lord of Imladris sat himself upon the marble base of the statue, elbows on his knees and pouting like a petulant child.
"Perhaps there is some other way?" Glorfindel asked, spreading his hands out before him in a helpless gesture.
"Mellon nín, if there were another way to help Lothvaen, I would have surely have done so by now."
Glorfindel glanced down at the rather sharp retort.
"Well, there is no need to snap..." Glorfindel muttered, crossing his arms over his formidable chest.
"I am sorry, meldir. I have been short with everyone as of late." Elrond sighed.
"I am the one who should be sorry." Glorfindel said, plopping down next to Elrond. "You have asked a favor of me, and I should not question you on this. You have always shown compassion for me and my problems over the years. I will do this for you."He patted Elrond's arm, the gesture not entirely comforting, but welcome nonetheless.Elrond looked up, the desolate shadow in his eyes slowly being chased away by new found hope. "I thank you, my dearest friend."
"You can thank me well enough after he breaks my arms for this."
The golden Elf muttered, earning a hearty chuckle from his lord.
*~*~*~*
//and the morning sun shone down upon you
washing away the grief that cloaks you
it marked you well with its grey haze
and ever you'll hide from its heavy gaze-//
The Chief Councilor of Imladris froze when his lord approached, the late
afternoon sun casting a long shadow over the lovingly worn journal in his
lap. Erestor stopped writing and set his quill aside, cursing himself for
not being more careful, not hearing the other approaching. The ink would
surely smudge if he tried to hide the book now. Shielding the carefully
penned words as best he could, he looked up to meet the curious gaze of
Lord Elrond.
"Are you hiding, mellon nín?" Elrond asked with a twitch of his lips.
"Hiding? I?" Erestor swallowed. "No, Elrond, I am not hiding."
"Oh, so you always sit here, in the farthest corner of the most unpopular garden, with your nose in a book?" the Half-Elf leaned against a nearby tree and folded his arms across his chest, thoroughly enjoying the cornered look on his normally unflappable advisor's face.
"I like it here. The quiet suits me. And just because this garden is unpopular with most of the residents here does not mean it is not well loved by others." Erestor said, closing the book but holding the wet pages apart with one finger stuck between them.
"You, most of all." Elrond gestured to the grass beside the other
Elf. "Might I sit with you for a while?"
Erestor shifted, his heartbeat suddenly increasing to pound in his ears.
He managed a polite nod. Elrond sat, arranging his robes around his folded
legs.
"What brings you out here, my lord?" Erestor asked quietly.
"I was looking for you. I was of a mind to ensure you are truly taking
the day off and not holed up in your rooms with a stack of correspondence.
I see I was wrong." Elrond looked at the book Erestor held pointedly.
"You are." Crossing his fingers that the ink was suitably dry,
Erestor closed the book and set it aside, capping his inkwell while he was
at it.
"Good. Then you can help me with a dilemma I currently find myself
in," Elrond hid his amusement behind years of discipline and put on
his most serious _expression. He had to bite his tongue when Erestor immediately
stopped what he was doing and slipped into his Councilor role.
"What is wrong? What can I do to help?" the advisor asked, folding
his hands neatly in his lap and turning to face his lord.
"Well, it is a rather delicate matter, Erestor, one that requires the
utmost discretion. I am sure I can count on you not to repeat a word of
what is said here today." Elrond lowered his voice and leaned in closer
to the other Elf. "It is a matter of life and death."
Erestor's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he covered his mouth
with an ink stained hand. "What is it Elrond? It is the children?"
Elrond waved a hand as if to banish that unwelcome thought. "No, thank
the Valar. It is a matter of the heart, Erestor."
"The heart, my lord?" Erestor repeated.
"Aye. There are two Elves who are desperately in love, and they will
not see what is before their very eyes. I have spoken to both of them, and
after thinking long on this, I have come to the conclusion that we must
help them find one another." At the councilor's puzzled _expression,
Elrond took both his hands and held them tight. "I am counting on you
to help me, my friend. I fear for their souls should we let this go on longer
than it has already."
"Who are these two that they do not know their own hearts?" Erestor
asked, a bit taken aback at this unusual request from his lord. This was
most certainly not his area of expertise, after all. Glorfindel might be
better suited to the task.
"I will tell you in a moment, Erestor. But they are very dear to me,
and I should not know how to continue without either one of them. Please,
mellon nín, you must say yes." Elrond's eyes flashed with determination,
hope and fear, and Erestor could not find it in him to refuse.
"What can I do?" he asked softly, filled with warmth at the light
that leapt into Elrond's eyes.
"First, we must..."
*~*~*~*
Two hours later, Erestor was a bundle of nerves. He was sitting at his dressing
table, methodically braiding his hair before the evening meal. It was the
same style he had worn for centuries, and one that worked well for him.
Two braids at his ears and fastened together with a simple piece of lacing.
It allowed him to have his hair still mostly unbound, which was how he preferred
it, and still kept it off his face and out of his way while he worked. There
had been many times in his youth where he had to wash ink from his hair,
and that was no easy task.
The movements of his fingers as they efficiently wove the strands of black
silk eased his mind for a moment, but that still did nothing for the pack
of dragonflies that fluttered around his belly without cease. After having
more time to really think this through, he was not entirely sure this was
the best of ideas. Though he trusted Elrond implicitly, there must be a
better way.
"I will do it." His words to Elrond earlier seemed to haunt him,
and he snorted derisively, chiding himself for not thinking this through
thoroughly before saying yes. He had impulsively agreed in a moment of weakness,
wanting to see Elrond happy, to see those grey eyes smile at him. Only him.
Erestor adjusted his braids, ignoring the fluttery feeling around his heart
when he thought of Elrond. The advisor knew how inappropriate his feelings
were, but he could not help himself. He was lost to his lord. Anything Elrond
asked of him, Erestor would fulfill that wish without question. He could
deny Elrond nothing. Which explained his involvement in this ridiculous
charade. With a sigh and a shake of his head, the councilor resigned himself
to an evening of embarrassment.
Running the sapphire studded comb through his hair one last time, he stood
and walked to his bed. The deep green robe waited there for him, and Erestor
took the rich fabric in his hands, sliding into the robe. After fastening
the small mithril hooks and slipping his feet into his soft black shoes,
he turned to face the mirror in the corner.
He felt awkward in these robes, like one of Arwen's old dolls all dressed
up for a tea party. The robe he wore was one of his more decorative, with
subtle silver embroidery at the edges and cuffs in a tiny vine pattern and
sewn with tiny mithril beads at random intervals. Though it was a touch
on the formal side, Erestor looked as he did most days. The same hair, the
same face, the same body. With the silver undertunic and a lighter green
over tunic, he looked like an Elf out to impress.
And he supposed he was, if this mission was to be believed.
He felt like a fool.
With another sigh, the councilor turned and headed out the door, not entire
certain whether to praise or curse Elrond's name.
*~*~*~*
The Lord of Imladris smiled smugly to himself as he stood naked in front
of his wardrobe, trying to decide on a robe to wear this evening. It almost
did not matter, though he did want to look his best. The plan was on schedule,
Erestor had agreed, and now all he had to do was wait until he could enjoy
the fruits of his labors; two very happy Elves come morning.
Taking up the wine colored velvet, Elrond laid it out upon his bed and sat
at his dressing table to braid his hair. His fingers moved automatically
in the pattern learned millennia past, and the Half-Elf let his mind wander,
not at all surprised to realize just who his thoughts turned to.
After years of working beside this Elf, of confiding in him, hearing his
confidences, sharing happy times and helping each other through painful
times, Elrond was finally close to admitting his heart's desire. He had
loved this Elf for many long years, going back to the time when Celebrían
removed to Lothlórien.
He and his wife had shared an affectionate, if not passionate, marriage.
Their lives together had been content and quiet, and Elrond loved her dearly
for bearing him his beautiful children, but there was always something missing.
Elrond had always felt the slightest bit empty over the course of their
marriage, and he knew Celebrían was not as happy with him as she
was beneath the graceful mellyrn of her heart's home. They had parted as
friends, each releasing the other from both bond and vow, with the promise
to accept a new love into their lives should the Valar bless them.
Now his delicate Celebrían was in Valinor, after a brutal attack
on her body that left her crippled in spirit. The twins had taken it particularly
hard, riding out against the foul creatures of Darkness that broke their
Naneth, and Arwen preferred to spend extended periods of time in her mother's
homeland.
And he was blessed. He knew his heart, and he knew he loved. He also knew
his Elf would not reach out on his own, would not speak the secrets of his
heart without first knowing his love was returned. Elrond felt the other's
love; knew with out a shadow of a doubt that his love was requited. The
time had come to speak his mind. Tonight. After he had seen this plan through,
he would take his beloved aside and let him see just what he held in his
heart.
Now finished with his braids, his mithril circlet in place, the Peredhel
stepped to his bed and dressed quickly. He bent to fasten the buckles on
his shoes and then straightened his hair. Satisfied that everything was
where it should be, and with hope blossoming in his heart for the evening
to come, the Lord of Imladris left his chamber.
*~*~*~*
Glorfindel of Gondolin, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Seneschal
of Imladris, Balrog Slayer, Only-Elf-To-Be-Reborn-And-Return-To-Arda and
Lover Extraordinaire, wondered again at his stupidity. Now, normally, he
was a very intelligent Elf, and capable of turning aside preposterous notions
with remarkable ease. Only this time, his preposterous notions sensor hadn't
been in proper working order. Which was why he found himself in the middle
of a scheme thought up by Elrond- and Elrond was notoriously bad at scheming-
and the object of tonight's entertainments.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Upon entering the dining halls, he noticed his lord seated at his customary
place, and Erestor beside him, also as usual. With a deep breath and a silent
prayer to Mandos to make his death swift this time, he took up his seat
beside Erestor. The dark Elf looked to his left and offered a weak smile,
and Elrond grinned widely, winking at him. Now, it goes without saying that
it was very disturbing to see Elrond in such a good mood, and *winking*.
Must be all that plotting. It seemed to be eating his brain.
Glorfindel smiled back at both his lord and friend, and turned to his plate.
The serving Elves had filled the porcelain dish with roast venison, steamed
beets, fresh rolls and what looked to be jellied figs. He wasted no time
in tucking into the wonderfully smelling food before him.
Erestor kept shifting nervously beside him, and it was doing horrible things
to his digestion. Really, he did not need to be reminded that his life would
be over by the end of this night.
And so he ate, pointedly ignoring the wiggling Elf next to him.
When the meal was over, and most of the Elves present retired to the Hall
of Fire, Elrond gave him a quick look over Erestor's head and rose. It was
time then.
He stood, placing his linen napkin next to his plate and replacing his chair.
He took a last sip of his wine, straightened his tunic, brushed off his
leggings and had a nice long stretch. When he turned to leave the dining
halls, Erestor was right behind him. Bollocks.
Erestor looked about as uncomfortable as he himself felt, and he honestly
felt bad for taking part in this scheme. He could only hope that everything
went well and no feelings got trod on accidentally.
*~*~*~*
"Would you like you walk with me for a while, Glorfindel?" Erestor
asked in a shaky voice, gesturing to the open balcony and the gardens beyond.
"That would be lovely, mellon nín. It is a lovely night,"
Glorfindel took a step toward the balcony and cringed as a crisp breeze
ruffled his hair.
"Yes, it is." Erestor said, falling into step beside him.
Glorfindel looked to him, and smiled.
"Which garden should we choose this night, Erestor?"
"P-perhaps the rose garden. I do so admire the way the roses look under
the moonlight." Erestor replied, descending the first of the steps
leading to the grounds.
"Yes, I believe you are right. They are lovely at night." Glorfindel
echoed.
They walked for a bit in silence, only the rustling of Erestor's robe against
the soft grass and the nervous throat clearing of Glorfindel breaking the
stillness.
They passed beneath a trellised arbor, covered in climbing roses of pinks
and whites. The gardens planted and tended by Celebrían opened before
them, the graceful curving beds of rose bushes punctuated by stone benches
and statues. The long minutes stretched out between them as they walked,
taut as a tightened bowstring. Erestor stopped walking when they came into
a small circular clearing, turning to his friend with a strained smile.
"How goes your re-mapping of the border patrols?" Erestor asked
politely.
"Very slowly, though I have managed to make some small progress. I
fear it will be weeks before I have the new route maps ready for approval."
Glorfindel said, digging the toe of his boot into the soft earth and making
a little hollow.
"I am sure you will finish before you know it." Erestor smiled
awkwardly and walked to a stone bench a few feet away. This was not getting
any easier. Elrond had wanted him to pretend to court Glorfindel to provoke
the would be lovers into revealing themselves, though Erestor did not know
how long he could continue with this. He most certainly did not have feelings
for the Seneschal.
He seated himself and looked up, watching as the blonde twirled a leaf in
his long fingers.
"And how is the cataloguing coming?" Glorfindel asked.
Erestor cleared his throat. It seemed Glorfindel's throat-clearing disease
was catching. "Like your project, long and slow. It is not an easy
task to re-catalogue every volume in Lord Elrond's library three ways."
Erestor wiped his hands on his robes and folded them in his lap. "Though
I know I should not complain, with Lothvaen to help and Lindir when he can.
It is faster work with more than one pair of hands."
Glorfindel smiled at Erestor's slight ramble, knowing it stemmed from nervousness.
"Good luck with that."
Erestor nodded.
"What do you think of-"
"I wonder when the merch-"
They stopped and looked at each other in surprise before sharing quiet laughter.
"You go first." Erestor said.
"No, please, what were you saying?" Glorfindel held his hand out
to Erestor for a moment, gesturing for him to continue.
"Nay, I insist." Erestor said, making the same motion back.
"We can go back and forth like this for quite some time, can we not?"
Glorfindel asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Erestor laughed, a genuine laugh. "Aye, we are both too stubborn to
concede to the other."
"In that case, we had better get in with this ruse soonest. I would
not have Elrond bring our quarry only to find they have missed the show."
Erestor's head snapped up, piercing Glorfindel with his cool grey eyes.
"You knew of this?"
"Of course I knew. Elrond needed all the help he could get." The
blonde Elf came and sat next to his old friend.
"I am not certain I feel comfortable with this," the advisor said,
shifting a bit on the bench.
"I know, Erestor. But you and I have been friends for centuries. I
think we can make this sacrifice for two Elves who need our help. Even if
Elrond's plan leaves a lot to be desired." Glorfindel replied, taking
one of Erestor's hands in his own, finding it sweaty and warm. "Why
are you so nervous about this? All we have to do is pretend to like each
other and share a simple kiss. Where is the harm in that?"
Erestor looked stricken. He pulled his hand from Glorfindel's grasp and
wiped his palm nervously on his robe. "I cannot do that. I have been
feeling unwell in recent days. Mayhap I have taken ill." The advisor
turned his face aside and coughed. Badly.
Glorfindel just looked amused. "Erestor, we are Elves. We do not fall
ill. Nice try though." Erestor's face flushed a delicate pink, his
eyes suddenly very interested in a colony of ants below his feet.
"Come, Erestor, for our friends?" Glorfindel asked, cupping the
other's chin in his large hand, turning his face up and meeting his grey
eyes.
And damn him, it worked. Like he knew it would. Erestor could never refuse
to help a fellow Elf who needed him. He swallowed the lump in his throat,
turned to Glorfindel, and faced his uncertainty.
Glorfindel reached out and took his hand, stroking his face with the hand
still holding the councilor's chin, his sword calloused fingers rough on
his silken skin. "Just relax, mellon nín, and breathe. Everything
will be all right." Glorfindel wrapped the slight councilor in his
arms, pulling him closer to the firmness of his own body.
From a distance, Erestor knew they looked the picture of two Elves caught
in a loving embrace, whispering words of affection and devotion. But in
that moment, everything was wrong. As wrong as it could possibly be. The
arms holding him were wrong, the voice that whispered soothingly to him
was wrong, the eyes that looked down at him were wrong, the lips smiling
at him were wrong, the hair against his fingers was wrong, the body against
his own was so very wrong. Too firm, not deep enough, wrong color, not full
enough, too short, not Elrond's....
Not Elrond.
Erestor felt his eyes burn; he was distantly aware of voices coming nearer,
his throat closing around the scream rising from within. He had to move.
Had to leave. Had to flee. This was wrong.
He wrenched himself from the embrace of his friend and stood in one swift
movement. Glorfindel looked at him, head tilted to one side, confusion clear
on his fair face. "What is wrong? Have I done something to offend you?"
Erestor shook his head, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. He swallowed
them back with effort, and took no notice when they were joined in the rose
garden by three other Elves.
"I am sorry, Glorfindel. I do dearly love Lindir and Lothvaen, but
I cannot continue with this ruse. I can't pretend to be your lover when
my heart belongs to someone else." Erestor said, surprised that his
voice was so steady.
"Erestor?" The blonde Elf asked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Glorfindel, that my heart is no longer my own. It has not
been for some time. I gave it away long ago, without the other knowing he
holds it. I do not hold out any hope that he can ever love me back, and
I have accepted this. Yet, I cannot help myself. I love- I love so desperately-"
Erestor stopped abruptly, a sob trying to force it's way out. His shoulders
were shaking with the weight of his anguish, and his heart pounded madly
in his ears.
"Who is this Elf who has so claimed your devotion and love?" Glorfindel
asked, surprised that his friend had never confided in him.
Erestor, lost now to his misery, raised glistening eyes to meet the compassionate
blue of Glorfindel's. He uttered a single word.
"Elrond."
Two gasps rang out in the heavy silence. Erestor whipped his head around,
and felt all the blood drain from his face at the sight before him. Lindir,
fair haired, sweet Lindir, standing there with one hand clasped over his
mouth, frozen to the spot. Lothvaen, level headed, gentle and kind, a look
of such understanding on his handsome face that Erestor wanted to weep like
a baby right then. And Elrond. His lord, his love, his life. Standing as
still as if he had been carved from marble, tears welling in his eyes.
The Chief Councilor of Imladris took one look at their faces and looked
back to Glorfindel, his tears breaking through his resolve to slide down
his face in shimmering rivulets. "Oh bloody hell, what have I done?"
And then he ran.
*~*~*~*
Glorfindel turned to look at his lord and friends. No one moved for long
moments, each reluctant to break the awkward stillness that cloaked them.
Lindir looked to Lothvaen, puzzled by the compassion and understanding he
read in the other's moss green eyes. Lothvaen just smiled sadly, and looked
away. Glorfindel met Elrond's swimming grey eyes, reading the happiness
that blossomed there, the concern for Erestor, and the pain he felt at seeing
his love's obvious desolation.
Elrond was the one to finally end the silence. "Glorfindel, would you
please explain to Lindir and Lothvaen what has happened here tonight?"
At the blonde's nod, he turned and followed the path Erestor had taken.
"Glorfindel?" Lindir's clear voice reached Glorfindel's ears,
and he turned to face the minstrel and the scribe.
"Come and sit, my friends. It is a long tale."
*~*~*~*
Erestor ran, heedless of the trees snagging on his robes, or the brambles
biting into his skin. He knew not where he headed, just that he ran. His
feet flew over tree roots and rocks, his robes whipped about his legs, his
hair streamed out behind him. The stormy grey eyes, unseeing, spilled glistening
tears unchecked. His life was over.
Elrond could never return his feelings; what had possessed him to pour out
his heart to Glorfindel? And, inadvertently, Elrond himself. Surely the
Elf lord would ask him to apply himself to his duties elsewhere, mayhap
assigning him different offices, far from his own. Or he might scream and
rage at him for allowing himself to be so foolish. Then again, he might
show understanding and compassion- or worse yet- pity.
That he could not allow.
The trees thinned out around him, and he slowed, chest heaving from both
the deep wracking sobs that escaped his soul and the exertion of running
so far so hard. He came to a stop under a willow tree, slumping against
the comforting presence. The Chief Councilor of Imladris slid to his rear,
his body suddenly no longer capable of holding his weight, and landed in
an ungraceful heap in the soft grass that grew about the base of the tree.
Erestor rested his forehead on his knees and began taking deep, long breaths
in an effort to calm himself. The tree lent the advisor her calming energy,
and the Elf gratefully accepted all that she gave. When he was finally able
to draw breath without the world spinning about him, he leaned back against
the smooth bark of the willow.
But try as he might, he could not escape the image of Elrond standing in
the rose garden after hearing his foolish confession. He saw the tears in
his argent eyes, the set of his features in a mask of calm detachment, the
rigidity in the way he held himself still. Erestor was mortified. He had
never intended for Elrond to hear the secrets of his heart.
There was only one thing to do. He had to leave. He would rather leave his
family and home than bear Elrond's pity and understanding. The great Elf
lord would never turn him away, would never blame him or close himself off.
But Elrond had such a compassionate soul, such a giving heart that he would
not be able to stop himself from pitying his friend. And no matter how he
would try to hide it, it would show in his eyes. Erestor would rather leave
than see pity for him in his love's eyes.
The sharp snap of a twig breaking tore him from his thoughts, and Erestor
looked to his left, freezing in place. Elrond had followed him. This was
it. Now or never.
The advisor stood shakily, one hand on the tree trunk for balance. He shook
his hair out of his face and squared his shoulders.
Time to face his fate.
*~*~*~*
"He what?" Lindir asked, a shrill note coming into the normally
melodious voice.
Glorfindel sighed, lowering his head for a moment and sending a silent prayer
to the Valar for patience. He looked up and met Lindir's leaf green eyes.
"I will say this slowly, so you will understand this time. Lord Elrond
staged this tableau for your benefit, meldir. He knew Lothvaen's feelings,
and he knew your interest was returned to some degree, but he also knew
that you favored myself. He wanted to bring you together, and he thought
that when you saw that I was involved with Erestor, you would forget about
me and turn your attention to Lothvaen once more."
To his credit, Lothvaen took this whole thing with grace and dignity, though
his fair skin was stained pink with embarrassment. He sat on the stone bench,
to the right of Glorfindel, back straight, hands folded, eyes on the ground.
His long chestnut hair partially covered his face, but he could feel the
weight of Lindir's gaze on him from the other side of Glorfindel.
Lindir was speechless. He had no idea that Lothvaen had any interest in
him. He had long harbored secret feelings for the scribe, but thought them
hopeless. Lothvaen and he had formed a friendship long years past, when
Lindir first came to the valley, and he had loved him nearly as long. The
minstrel's dearest wish was to find courage enough to confess his heart
to Lothvaen, one day.
Now he found he did not have to.
Glorfindel looked from one Elf to another, wondering how long it would take
them to figure this whole thing out and make with the lovey dovey. He had
some important things on his agenda this evening, important she-Elves- ahem-
*things* to do. He dearly hoped one or the other would at least say something,
get the ball rolling.
Lindir shifted next to him, and the golden Elf glanced over, reading the
puzzled _expression his friend wore. "What is it, Lindir?"
The younger Elf turned to face him and opened his mouth to speak, but then
closed it. He turned his face away, looking out over the roses, his forehead
marred with his frown.
Lothvaen peaked over at him from behind his veil of hair, and Lindir sensed
his movement and looked at him.
Lothvaen snapped his head around, suddenly fascinated with the rose bush
that grew to his right. Lindir visibly slumped, and his face crumpled a
bit. For one long horrifying moment, Glorfindel thought he would cry. But
the minstrel took a dep breath and turned away again.
Glorfindel sighed once more, looking up at the starry heavens and asking
the Valar again for patience. It was going to be a long night.
*~*~*~*
Elrond stood at the edge of the farthest garden, which really wasn't a garden
at all, but little more than a clearing with a path wandering through it,
wildflowers, trees and shrubs growing at will. It was lovingly tended by
the Elves who cared for the grounds, and so was not entirely overrun, but
wild enough that most Elves avoided it. It was also Erestor's favorite spot.
Erestor, the object of his heart's secret longing, watched him from under
an ancient willow, sizing him up and ready to flee. Elrond took several
deep breaths, and just watched his love. Erestor looked, to Elrond, like
a frightened colt, ready to bolt at the first threatening move. Which, upon
reflection, was not all that far from the truth. Elrond knew he had to proceed
with much caution, but his heart wanted to just burst out and smother Erestor
with its long held silent feelings. He began slowly walking across the garden,
one measured step at a time, Erestor watching him closely all the while.
When he was close enough to reach out to him, Erestor stiffened and raised
his chin defiantly. His eyes still shimmered with tears, and his beautiful
face was red and blotchy. And though his hair was a tousled mess, and his
face was streaked with tears, and his robes were torn in several places,
he was still beautiful.
Reaching out a trembling hand, hardly daring to breathe, Elrond cupped Erestor's
face in his palm, relishing the feel of the silken skin burning hotly against
his own. Erestor faltered, a quick breath hissing through clenched teeth,
and his eyes fluttered for a mere second. Elrond was encouraged by this,
and took another step closer, bringing their bodies within inches of one
another.
The Lord of the Valley waited until Erestor opened his eyes, smiling when
the advisor was visibly shaken by his closeness, and raised his other hand
to gently cradle Erestor's face. This was too much for Erestor. He could
smell Elrond's sweet breath, feel the heat from his body; his head swam
with years of repressed desire, his heart fluttered with years of hidden
love and his loins swelled with years of denied release.
The councilor raised a hand and clutched at Elrond's sleeve, just below
his wrist. Erestor dared a look into Elrond's eyes and his own filled with
fresh tears as what he read there. Respect mixed with trust, pain fought
with happiness, desire warred with love. He couldn't...
Could he?
"I know." Elrond whispered, and Erestor closed his eyes as he
felt the older Elf's hot breath ghost across his lips.
The advisor opened his eyes again, not wanting to miss this moment, this
second, that he had dreamed of for years uncounted. Elrond smiled at him,
a soft smile, full of unspoken promise, before he lowered his head and claimed
Erestor's lips in a loving kiss.
*~*~*~*
'My aren't my fingernails fascinating?' Glorfindel thought. Lothvaen and
Lindir still had not spoken of- well- anything. They were currently studiously
ignoring one another. Lothvaen, examined the rose bushes that grew in a
bed a few feet from the stone bench, and Lindir stood on the opposite side
of the garden, picking at a weed.
The Balrog slayer began the utterly absorbing task of picking at his nails,
which were always ragged from handling weapons each day. 'This night is
never going to end.'
Lindir looked over his shoulder at the object of his desire, a hopeful _expression
on his face. Lothvaen did not look back. Lindir sighed and looked away.
Lothvaen knew the moment Lindir's heavy gaze left him, and took this opportunity
to look back at him, longing clear in his moss colored eyes.
They had been at this for an hour or more. Any longer and Glorfindel would
do something desperate, like tear his hair out in boredom. One more surreptitious
glance from Lindir, and he was on his feet, striding across the garden to
grasp the younger Elf by the hand. He ignored Lindir's gasp and tugged him
clear across the grass to the rose bed where Lothvaen stood, pointedly ignoring
the scene they made.
Glorfindel grasped his wrist as well, and pulled both Elves back to the
bench. "Sit." Lothvaen and Lindir sat, on opposite sides of the
wide stone surface. Glorfindel rolled his eyes and squatted down, on eye
level with his two friends. "Now, we will get to the bottom of this,
and we will do it with all possible haste as some of us have better things
to do."
Lindir snickered, the veiled meaning behind the blonde Elf's words not lost
on him. He knew his friend well, and was very familiar with his lusty ways.
Lothvaen hid a smile, and looked at Lindir.
The minstrel turned clear green eyes on the scribe, and for a moment, no
one spoke. Then, with a deep breath and a swallow to rid the lump in his
throat, Lothvaen addressed the situation.
"It is my understanding that Lord Elrond arranged this evening to bring
the two of us together." he paused, and Lindir nodded, a little apprehensively.
"Why was it that you could not come to me with your feelings, if you
indeed still harbor these feelings for me."
Lindir blanched, even though he was well used to the scribe's blunt manner.
He looked at his hands, wringing in his lap. "I do not know. I suppose
I thought you would not return my feelings."
"Lindir." Lothvaen's voice took on a gentle tone and he waited
until the fair Elf met his eyes before continuing. "Have I ever given
you reason to think that?"
The other Elf shook his head sheepishly. He was a little ashamed of himself,
unable as he was to admit this to his friend, forcing his lord to think
up this ruse to try and bring them together.
"I have cared for you for many years, mellon nín. It was I who
thought my feelings unrequited." the young scribe said softly.
Lindir looked up at him, his eyes wide. "But they are, Lothvaen. Almost
from the moment we met I have felt this way."
Lothvaen blushed, smiling at his love.
"There see? All happy again. Are you finished?" Glorfindel asked.
He squirmed as two sets of green eyes fixed upon him, one light and clear
and the other deep and luminous, both shooting daggers at him. "Yes,
well, I'll just leave you to it."
Glorfindel rose, and the two Elves turned back to one another. Lindir reached
out and took Lothvaen's hand, holding it gently. The dark Elf blushed and
smiled at his new love. Neither noticed Glorfindel leaving the gardens,
but just before he was out of sight of the two lovebirds, he turned back.
And just in time to see Lindir place a sweet kiss on Lothvaen's lips. Glorfindel
grinned. They had succeeded, however roundabout that success had come.
The Balrog slayer turned on his heel, thoughts of this night's activities
bringing another smile to his lips, and- whistling as he went- walked back
to the House. Quickly.
*~*~*~*
Erestor's world turned upside down. He whimpered when Elrond pulled their
bodies close, and shuddered when Elrond ran a moist tongue over his lips.
And he groaned when Elrond broke the kiss. He opened his eyes and looked
at Elrond, hardly able to believe this was real.
"How did you know?" he asked, breathless and hopeful.
"Did you not know that I am aware of everything that goes on in my
valley?" Elrond replied, a smirk flirting with the edges of his full
lips, still wet from their kiss.
"And you do not-" Erestor began, but was cut off when Elrond kissed
him again, hard. He slid one hand up to tangle in Elrond's dark hair, his
fingers rubbing against his scalp.
Elrond moved his right hand to the small of Erestor's back, pulling the
other Elf up and in, tight against him, leaving no doubt in Erestor's mind
how he felt about this revelation. He groaned when Erestor's lips parted
at his gentle prodding, and the moan that sounded deep in the other's throat
at the first touch of their tongues was enough to set his Peredhel blood
boiling. Elrond drew Erestor's tongue into an erotic dance, taking the chance
to fully taste the Elf he had loved for years. And taste he did.
Elrond broke the kiss, pulling back to look into Erestor's eyes, now darkened
to a glittering black with desire. He smiled. "I have to confess something
to you, Erestor."
The advisor's face turned down in a frown, and his eyes held questions only
Elrond could answer. "What is it?"
"I have been keeping secrets from you, seron vell. I have guarded my
heart from your sight, to keep you from knowing it's secrets." Elrond
paused, raising a hand to stroke his love's fair skin. He took a moment
to gather his thoughts and courage, and Erestor read the fleeting emotions
on his lord's noble face. He smiled, easily seeing the nervousness in Elrond's
demeanor. Erestor placed a hand against Elrond's cheek, stroking the soft
skin with his thumb.
"We all have secrets, Elrond. There is a part within us all that we
hold private and separate, and only those of our choosing have the privilege
of knowing what those secrets are."
Elrond smiled. Leave it to Erestor, practical, logical Erestor, to chase
away his nerves with a smile and a few kind words. He took both Erestor's
hands and held them against his chest. Erestor looked at him encouragingly,
a gentle smile on his lips.
"I have watched you for longer than I care to admit. I have dreamed
of this moment for more years than you could imagine. You have been the
center of my thoughts and desires, the core of my strength, the pillar of
support I lean upon. My desires burn constantly, and they burn for you.
You hold my heart in your hands, and you have since my children were Elflings,
longer than I cared to realize. I do not know how I have survived this long
without speaking these words to you, seron vell. My heart is yours, Erestor."
Erestor's lower lip trembled, and his grey eyes looked like twin pools of
molten mithril. Elrond watched his beloved, waiting for him to speak, his
heart hammering in his chest in trepidation.
The councilor smiled brilliantly through his tears, lighting both his whole
face and Elrond's heart. "You could have told me." he whispered,
his throat dangerously tight.
"Aye, my love, I should have." Elrond said, and lowered his head,
intending to kiss Erestor's pink lips once again. He was thwarted when the
other Elf raised two fingers and placed them against his mouth, effectively
gaining his attention.
"Elrond, I also have something I wish you to hear." Erestor began
in a soft voice.
The Half-Elf pulled back and nodded, releasing Erestor's hands and sliding
his own over the other's waist.
Erestor looked down at his hands, feeling the Peredhel's heart beating beneath
his fingers. When he looked up into Elrond's stormy eyes, he felt a rush
of love course through him at the open and trusting _expression he read.
He gave Elrond a watery smile and began to speak.
"I have worked beside you, I have known you as both my lord and my
friend, I have become part of your family. You amazed me with your compassionate
nature, with your gentle soul, with your strong will. I am better by your
side; you make me better, you make me whole. I want to know you in every
way I can, I want to remain by your side until the end of time, I want to
feel the grace of your love every moment of my life." Erestor smiled.
"Melin le, Elrond."
It was Elrond's turn to hold back tears of happiness, Elrond's turn to feel
humbled and honored by the other's words. He lowered his head to brush Erestor's
willing lips in a ghost of a kiss, breathing the words his heart ached to
say against the waiting flesh. "Melin le, Erestor."
Erestor whimpered, whether at his words or his kiss Elrond did not know.
The only thing that mattered now were their heart beating together, finally,
after so much time. Elrond kept the kiss gentle, letting Erestor feel all
the love he had kept silent. When the reluctantly pulled apart to breathe,
both Elves had tears glistening on their eyelashes, reflecting Ithil high
above.
Elrond smiled and wrapped his arms around Erestor, holding him tightly.
Erestor held him just as tight, not wanting to let go for fear he would
disappear and the last moments be revealed as a cruel dream. They stood
against each other for some time, breathing each other's scent, content
with the simple intimacy of holding their beloved at last.
*~*~*~*
The old willow smiled to herself, reaching her long limbs to catch in the
light breeze. The garden was quiet; Ithil had long begun his descent, his
silvery light bathing the earth below in a quiet glow. The Elves of the
valley had long found reverie, retreating to their beds to find rest to
face the coming day. This time of night was magical, where the other living
creatures of Arda went about their business.
The plants in the gardens of Imladris whispered among themselves, telling
stories of all they'd learned this day and hearing them in turn. They buzzed
and they laughed, in the way plants do. The roses told their story, of the
scene witnessed by a handful of Elves and hundreds of plants. When they
were finished, another voice joined in the telling, adding the ending. For
only she knew, only she heard the whispered words and saw the shared love
that held them captive. The willow in the farthest garden began to tell
her tale, of two Elves in love, and their confessions in the dark.
Elvish translations:
Meldir- friend
Mellon nín- my friend
seron vell- beloved
Peredhel- Half-Elf
Melin le- I love you