MELETH: LOS'LÓRIEL BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER
Disclaimer
: I own nothing but the plot and any OC's.Summary:
Glorfindel/Erestor. When Glorfindel returns to ME, he finds his attention caught by a haunted advisor with a dark past. Between the outbreak of a war, and Erestor's own demons, can Glorfindel win his love, and survive the darkness?Author's Notes:
This is SLASH, people. This means a male/male relationship. If you are homophobic, don't read past this point.You have been warned. No flames accepted because of this as proper warnings have been given!
Response to reviewers:
GJ
- Thanks! Yes, Erestor does angst wonderfully!Griswold
- thanks a million! Erestor's guilt is definitely going to cause problems!JunoMagic
- Thank you! And I hope that the meeting is tasteful enough for you!Kasmi Kassim
- Thanks for reviewing! And there is a serious shortage of Erestor/Glorfindel pairings out there! By the way, 'Strength of a Greenleaf' was really good!trustingfriendship
- they meet in this chapter!And major thanks goes to:
Emma, Haldir's Heart and Soul, She-Cat,
CHAPTER TWO: FIRST MEETINGS
Lindon, the year 1610 of the Second Age.
Great was the curiosity and joy in Lindon the day that the hero of legend, Glorfindel of Gondolin arrived in the city.
For such a renowned lord, and the means by which Eärendil had lived to escape the fall of Gondolin, the High King himself would greet the Elda, surrounded by his steward, Elrond, and a host of his chief advisors.
First and foremost, Gil-galad had wanted Erestor present. The counsellor may have been shy but he was by no means ignorant of anything that went on in the High King's realm. Indeed, Gil-galad, even if he had not considered himself a friend of the retiring Noldo, would have valued him most highly for that sharp tongue, keen wit and even keener mind. Few things got past Erestor of Lindon unnoticed. And Gil-galad wanted that mind at work at deciphering the character of the reborn Elf-lord.
But Erestor had proved most reticent indeed.
The advisor had flatly refused when Elrond first broached the topic with him, and his stance had not changed much in the ensuing days.
Erestor was not fond of crowds as a rule, and the very thought of being stuck in the middle of such a throng that was likely to gather to greet such a noble lord, made him most uneasy.
He had tried everything to gracefully duck out of the proceedings, even citing to Gil-galad that he could easily perform His Majesty's observations from a more secluded place, if His Majesty so desired.
In the end, he had frustrated Gil-galad so much that he'd issued a direct order to the stubborn Noldo.
Erestor was the best of his advisors save for Elrond, who supervised them all, and Gil-galad was hoping to be able to reward his friend's service ere long but in order to do that, he had to make Erestor show off his abilities in public more so that he would not have to listen to the griping of the other advisor's over the shy Elf's promotion.
And so while Gil-galad and his once ward and now steward, Elrond Peredhel (Half-Elven) gracefully held the most prominent position in front of the palace, Erestor was discomfited by the many enquiring stares he received.
Letting the dark curtain of his hair fall down to either side of his face, he used it to block his vision of the stares directed his way, and shrank back into the most secluded spot that he could locate in the area.
It was a little nook in the shadow of the pillars that held up the wide and lofty roof above the palace's entrance, and as the High King was busily engaged talking with his steward, neither had yet noticed that Erestor had left the position assigned to him, which was just a little behind and to the right of Elrond, and had drifted away to a safer spot of more obscurity.
As the legendary Elda approached, a surge of whisperings broke out amongst the crowd gathered, and they only became louder as the Lord approached the High King and Lord Elrond.
Erestor took his time to observe the Elf in question, instead of paying attention to the mass fawning of many of the Elves of Lindon.
Glorfindel was possessed of striking good looks, and it was not long ere Erestor heard that fact being exclaimed and gossiped over by most of the single Edhil (Elves) present, and a goodly portion of the coupled Elves as well.
Erestor, while not so close to the King and the two great lords to be discerned easily, was nevertheless in easy hearing range, and soon discerned the easy, unaffected manner of the Lord Glorfindel, and the healthy respect between the three mighty Elves.
From his vantage point, the advisor swiftly deduced that Lord Glorfindel was an Elf of keen intelligence, and had a healthy dash of humour, as he spoke most amiably with the other two.
Probing further, using the gifts he held for his own, he was at last satisfied that this slayer of Balrogs was possessed of a good heart. That combined with the other factors, was enough to make him leave things be.
Other musings on him could be left until he saw how the Lord's character unfolded. But as he was now satisfied that both his lords were not dealing with an unsavoury character, he would leave things alone.
Now if he could only find a way to exit the scene gracefully, not wanting to linger any longer in this melee.
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Gil-galad welcomed Glorfindel most graciously, immediately seeing in the golden Elda an Elf worth trusting, and so had treated him most warmly, and Elrond had followed suit, unwilling to believe ill of the Elda who had allowed his father, Eärendil, to escape the Fall of Gondolin unscathed.
When the pleasantries and formalities were dispensed with, Gil-galad was eager to introduce Glorfindel to Lindon, and to those that he would most likely be working closely with.
"Elrond here you have already met, but I have an advisor that you should go to if you have any problems. He is more smart and less vulture like than the others. May I introduce you to…"
The High King turned around in mounting annoyance, looking for Erestor, "Where did he sneak off to now?" he complained, wondering how he was ever to draw the Noldo out of his well lived in shell.
Elrond looked around also, swiftly finding his friend's shadow nearby, "He lurks over by the pillars there; do not try to draw him out, for he will only slink away," he warned.
Gil-galad turned apologetically to Glorfindel and indicated the advisor's barely to be seen location. "He is very reserved, and not fond of crowds as a rule. Do not think it a reason to think ill of Erestor, you will not find a more sharp witted Elf in all of Lindon, I dare say. He is more sociable when he is not amongst so many." the king explained, trying to convey his friend's notorious shyness without actually saying so.
Glorfindel turned to look at this mysterious counsellor, who both these mighty Elves thought so highly of, and his sharp eyes, like Elrond's, soon found their goal.
A black shadow lurked between the shelter of the roof pillars, and after a moment, Glorfindel realised that part of the shadow was the fall of raven hair that blocked the Elf's face.
The Elf happened to look up then, and their eyes met; the advisor, Erestor as Gil-galad had called him, looking at him in surprise and Glorfindel looking at him in thoughtful appraisal.
Glorfindel noticed the very subtle power and keen intelligence that lay veiled by those cool dark eyes with curiosity, as it was at odds with all that he had seen of the Elf thus far.
Just from that observation, he wished to know the Elf better, and the advisor was fair of face from what he could see, so the Elda could not understand why an Elf of such standing, was reticent to be in the light.
The advisor was an enigma, and a puzzle he would like to solve.
Seeing that Gil-galad was talking once more, and now going into the beautiful and airy palace, Glorfindel tore his eyes away, and followed Elrond and Ereinion, but as he walked in their wake, he could not help but ponder on the lithe shadow that intrigued him so.
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Erestor was better able to reflect on things once he had reached the safety of his quarters.
As Lord Glorfindel's eyes had met with his, he had experienced a most discomfiting feeling. Those blazing azure eyes had pierced his, seeming to try to see through him, an effect that Erestor soon realised that he detested.
But the Lord had not sought to threaten or intimidate he knew, only in his curiosity had he looked at all, and so was in no way responsible for Erestor's unease, but the advisor hated anyone seeing him so deeply, even if they were a reborn Lord from the West.
His body relaxing as he enjoyed the solitude and the absence of the stifling crowds, Erestor let his rigid control of himself slip for the moment, and took the rare opportunity to calm down ere he dove back into the preparations for the winter solstice.
He did not know why the golden Elda had unnerved him so, even more so than Gil-galad when he had first tried to befriend him, but he was quite determined to find out.
He could not, would not, tolerate losing control.
Not after last time.
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Glorfindel's apartments were luxurious and welcoming, and he soon thought that he spied the elegant touch of Elrond on the furnishings rather than some other of the High King's staff.
Understated elegance and a deep respect and compassion for others were the two most dominant traits that Glorfindel had seen in the son of Eärendil, and the Elda reminded himself to thank Elrond for his troubles on his behalf later.
The rooms were elegant as befitting a lord, whilst still maintaining a homey, comforting atmosphere and Glorfindel was instantly delighted with them.
And even more delighted to be on his own, away from the over enthusiastic Elves he had met so far.
Only Elrond and Gil-galad, of all that he had met today, had behaved with unaffected civility and gracious manners without the taint of obsequiousness that was present in all the others.
Elrond had shown him to his rooms, seeing the Elda's dilemma with the rest of Gil-galad's suddenly awed and curious staff, and so to save the renowned Balrog slayer some unnecessary and unwelcome probing over his infamous death, had personally seen to his comforts.
"The High King will give you an audience later this evening, to discuss your role in Lindon," the Peredhel had said with a small smile, "But for now, I shall leave you to your peace, as undoubtedly, you shall be subjected to much posturing and flattery this evening at the evening meal."
Glorfindel had groaned theatrically, causing Elrond to chuckle, and had thanked him for his time and trouble, but Elrond had waved him off.
That had been an hour ago, and now that the sense of peace was wearing off, isolation was beginning to be felt.
Glorfindel had never been an unsocial Elf, and only now in his second life in Middle Earth had he experienced such blatant rudeness and the sycophantic behaviour towards himself which disgusted him.
But through it all came the unrelenting desire for company. After the grey of Mandos Halls, Glorfindel wanted to live life again, in every way.
And so as he pondered, he realised that he could only hope that whatever awe the Elves of Lindon held for him would wear off ere he lost his temper with them.
And very deliberately, he pushed aside the ache in his heart, and Círdan's words, and ignored the fact that he was feeling increasingly empty inside, despite all the company that would attach themselves to him.
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In the High King's chambers, after the stress of an eventful day, Elrond and Gil-galad were at last left to themselves, to talk about the little things, as well as their plans for the future.
Gil-galad joyfully slouched into his comfortable armchair, causing Elrond to shake his head in bemusement, "You do realise that you are King and therefore are allowed to slouch in public if you wish."
Gil-galad lazily cracked open one eye, "But it is so much more enjoyable when everyone is not staring at me," he replied, "And I think that you meldiren, (my friend), could do with a bit of a slouch now and then."
Elrond just jested right back, "And you need a mate to look after you. I sometimes weary of being your minder."
"You make me sound as I were a mere elfling, when I am older than your father pen neth, (young one)." Gil-galad answered with feigned annoyance.
"Yes, but with all the weight and burdens that you take upon yourself, I, and many others, wonder when will the mighty Ereinion settle down."
Gil-galad's face clouded over for a moment, for some reason that Elrond could not discern, but a second later it was gone as if it had never been. "Not all Elves seek marital bliss, Elrond," he said, "And even more of us have not yet met one who stirs our hearts so."
The High King's tone was so full of melancholy that Elrond reached across and took his hand in comfort, "Ereinion, you must not despair," the Peredhel (half-Elven) urged his friend and the closest thing to a father he had known since Eärendil had gone out to the Sea, and on to the West, to sail the immortal skies evermore. "You shall find love in time. And then it shall come to you with all the force of a storm, until even you bow down before it, and then you shall know eternal happiness in their arms."
"Your words comfort me, pen neth (young one)," Gil-galad said after a moment, "But such is rarely the fate of kings. And especially those who claim the title of High King. As a rule, we rarely live long enough to experience such joy."
"You should not say such things!" Elrond exclaimed, "Such a fate shall not be yours as was your kin's. Morgoth is gone. Do not let the ghosts of the past fetter you to them. Believe in the future and let it come to you. Despairing will not help."
"I will take your words to heart, mellon (friend)," Gil-galad replied, feeling better even if he felt that the chances of his friend's words coming true was slim, "But now let us change to a lighter topic, shall we? What think you of Glorfindel?"
Elrond leaned back in his own chair, knowing that Gil-galad would say no more on the topic, "I think that Lindon has gained a valuable ally and a priceless captain."
"And of his character?" the High King pressed.
"I think that he is as noble as his reputation, and a merry spirit for the most part. But I fear the memory of Mandos Halls weighs heavy on him," Elrond said, thinking back to his conversation with the golden warrior.
"So we can trust him then?"
"He is not Celebrimbor, Ereinion, for all that you fear. He will not countermand a direct order."
"I know he is not Celebrimbor. The smith's stubbornness is generally conferred only on to the scions of the house of Fëanor," Ereinion answered, "But I dearly wish to hear Erestor's opinion as well. If I can ever find him."
"He will never become what you want him to be until he faces his own demons, meldiren (my friend)," Elrond said sagely, "You cannot blame him for not wanting the attention and position that you would unwittingly foist on him."
"But he did not even remain beside us when Glorfindel arrived!" Gil-galad said, "He did not even greet him. I fear that war is brewing, pen neth, that it shall come upon us without warning. I know not why I fear it, but I fear it anyway, and I need to know that if we must march once more, that Lindon is in safe hands."
"By Eru!" Elrond exclaimed in little more than a whisper, understanding coming to him, "You want to have Erestor lead them! Are you mad?! He would never agree, and you would throw the court into turmoil!"
Gil-galad held up a hand to quiet him, "There is no other I can trust to see to Lindon's best interests. I sense a great darkness coming, and I am not sure that we shall be strong enough to weather it. If it does come to war, I need to know that Lindon is not only being ruled by someone I trust implicitly, but by someone on whom pride and influence has little sway."
"What do you mean?" Elrond asked, growing more horrified as more of Gil-galad's fears were revealed, "Speak more plainly, I beg of you!"
"I mean, that I must act in the best interests of the realm. Too many of my advisors are too arrogant for their own good. They believe wholeheartedly that no army exists any more that can overwhelm a city of the Eldar. They are all fools," Gil-galad said darkly, his face grave and solemn, lines worn of care evident on the smooth plane, "They would not only be ill prepared but they would try to hold out even long past all hope is lost. They would not call on the race of Men for aid. In short, they would leave Lindon in ruins, and her people slaughtered or left as playthings for the orcs ere they would retreat. I cannot countenance it Elrond!"
Elrond's own expression reflected the dark mood of the king, "You are certain this is coming?"
The king only nodded, his mind troubled.
"Why Erestor? He has not any inclination for such roles."
"Because he would keep them safe," Ereinion said softly, "He does not cling to false hope, nor will pride lead him astray. If Lindon was seen to fall soon, he would get her people out and leave the city to burn if he had to. I can trust him and his heart to do right. If I could I would leave you behind to deal with things, but I cannot spare my herald and one of my captains. Nay, there can be no other. Erestor must do as I ask of him when the time comes."
"And how long do you think that will be?"
"No more than a century at most to prepare I would think," the king replied, "And even that will not be enough time. The great armies of the Noldor of the first age are no more, meldir (friend), the time of Men is coming. And I fear that what is coming will take us unawares, no matter how much I forebode its coming."
"By the Valar, what are we to do?" Elrond said.
"What can we do but wait?" Gil-galad answered with grim finality, "We can do nothing to strike against its occurrence until we know the nature of the threat. But you will help me then, my young friend?"
"How could I not, hir nín (my lord)?" Elrond replied, and silence fell between them for a long while.
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When Erestor had been summoned to the kitchens by Ivorwen, the assistant to the head chef, he truly had not expected any disaster of the magnitude that was facing him now.
It was two days before the winter solstice festival and a catastrophe of such magnitude as to render him speechless for several moments had just occurred.
As he had strode into the kitchen on the heels of the plainly nervous assistant cook and was immediately swallowed in a great cloud of smoke. The room was terribly hot, the noise level was unbelievable due to the harried shouting of several Elves and Erestor could just make out the bright flames of fire through the great haze of grey smoke.
Erestor coughed as the smoke went straight to his lungs before croaking out in utter dismay, "What happened here?!"
Ivorwen took the liberty of hauling the lord advisor aside, hoping to Eru that that formidable tongue would not take a pound of her flesh to calm its ire at this mess. Ducking into the pantry, where the smoke and noise were less, and hurriedly explained things to the most unamused advisor, whose dark eyes were starting to promise trouble when he found out who was to blame for this calamity.
"My lord," Ivorwen began anxiously, "Two of the ovens went on fire, my lord. I am afraid that they are quite destroyed and we shall need to get two new ones, my lord."
Erestor's eyes closed in utter horror, "Are you telling me that two days before the biggest festival of the season, this kitchen's ability to cook has been halved? With no chance of reprieve?" he deliberately kept his voice icy calm, not noticing the effect that his chilly demeanour had on the elleth before him.
"Yes, my lord," the elleth said quietly, unwilling to meet that dark gaze.
Erestor sighed in utter frustration, already feeling the beginnings of a headache, "Are the ovens still on fire?"
"Yes, my lord," she replied.
"Then come, let us sort out this mess, ere the palace is burned down!" Erestor cried in dismay, "Fetch somebody to gather water. I want this kitchen free of fire within the half hour!"
And with that order, he waded into the disarray and panic that was the state of the kitchen proper.
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Elrond was deep at work when Lindir, one of the realm's favoured minstrels popped his head into the study, "Lord Elrond?" that melodious voice said quietly.
"Yes, Lindir? Do come in," Elrond replied, putting aside the parchment he was perusing and giving the minstrel his full attention. "What brings you to my study? 'Tis not often that you grace this wing of the palace."
"I wish it was under better circumstances, my lord," Lindir said uncomfortably, "But I felt that you should be warned."
Elrond felt an uneasy feeling overtake him at Lindir's words, "Tell me, Lindir, warn me of what?"
"'Tis the kitchens my lord. There is some sort of fire, and smoke is flowing out of the halls nearby, and I have it on good authority that the Lord Erestor is on the warpath over it."
"Fire?!" Elrond gasped.
"I believe the Lord Erestor has it under control my lord, but his shouting can be heard from four halls away, and I have good reason to believe him most incensed my lord."
Elrond sighed, if the destruction of the kitchen interfered with Erestor's plans for the solstice, he could very well imagine the tongue lashing that the unfortunate Elf responsible was receiving. "Thank you for the warning, Lindir," he said, "But now I must leave you as I think the kitchen staff are in need of rescuing."
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Lindir had not been the only one to hear the almost obscene level of noise emanating from the kitchen area.
Glorfindel, curious about the extreme amount of shouting and concerned about the wafting smoke, entered the disaster area with a small amount of trepidation.
Surrounded by a gaggle of flustered, constantly moving Elves stood the Elf he had glimpsed the other day, completely ensconced in the mess.
Erestor was trying to placate the shouting cooks, while barking orders to the kitchen hands to stop the fire and to let the smoke out of the room. His fair face flushed with the heat, eyes bright with a mixture of concentration and harassment, and robes and hair in pleasant disarray from the formalness of previously, the advisor looked strangely tempting to Glorfindel's experienced eye.
Shaking his head to try to erase the sudden lustful thoughts about the shy advisor, he tried to remember that this Elf seemed to be a personal favourite of both Gil-galad and Elrond and showing an interest in treating him like a bed-treat would not be an advisable way of recommending himself to the King or his herald.
Glorfindel, seeing that things were under something that could be termed as control, kept out of the way while Erestor supervised the solving of the current problems.
But when the advisor finally had things under control, and had looked at his soot covered robes in disgust, Erestor did not look where he was going and crashed into Glorfindel's more solid form on his way out of the door.
Erestor staggered and would have fallen if Glorfindel had not reacted quickly.
Swiftly the warrior reached out to catch the slighter form, and in an attempt to steady him, enfolded him in his arms to prevent his fall.
When Erestor had recovered his wits, he was most duly mortified, especially since his face was pressed into Glorfindel's firm chest. And he blushed lightly as he became increasingly aware of the solidity of the golden Elda's form, and the evidently strong, muscular frame which he was graced with, especially in contrast to his own more lithe slenderness.
Stepping out of the strong arms that held him, Erestor forced himself to look Glorfindel in the eye, noting in annoyance that the warrior had the gall to actually seem amused! "I am most sorry for my inattention, my lord," he apologised, wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible but it seemed that the older Elf had other ideas.
"There is nothing to apologise for, Lord Erestor is it not? I understand perfectly that the troubles in the kitchen occupied much of your mind."
At this, Erestor narrowed his chocolate hued eyes, getting the distinct feeling that he was being mocked, and fell back on his usual chilly reserve. "Be that as it may, Lord Glorfindel, some of us have other duties to attend to beside loitering in places that we have no business being in," he said frostily, enjoying the way that Glorfindel's eyes widened at his altered tone.
And with that parting sentence, Erestor swept out of the room with all of the dignity that he could, wondering what on earth had possessed him to displease a lord who had the king's ear.
And in the kitchen, a somewhat stunned Glorfindel was swiftly growing to appreciate the counsellor's frosty temper. If Erestor's eyes blazed so when in the depths of frost, what must it be like when that anger came from the fire of his heart?
Not to mention that the advisor looked most delectable when in the throws of anger, and that flash of steely spine assured Glorfindel that this was no meek and cravenly scholar.
Yes, he would readily admit that Erestor of Lindon was so far the most intriguing person of his acquaintance.
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Later that day, after an audience with Gil-galad in which his duties were outlined, his motives for returning questioned, and had eventually resulted in the appointment of Glorfindel to the captain of the guards of Lindon, as there was a vacancy in that position for lack of an Elf who could both devote themselves to the job and have the skill to do justice to it.
For his part, Glorfindel did not mind overly much. He had been a warrior nearly all his years, and he had been sent back to fight the Shadow so 'twas not entirely unexpected and he had to admit that he seldom had patience for the seemingly endless paperwork that swamped Elrond daily.
But now that his time with the High King had ended, Glorfindel was feeling somewhat lonely and decidedly in the mood for some recreational company of the night time sort.
Whereas his interest had already been stirred by an unexpectedly fiery counsellor, Glorfindel was by no means blind to the physical attractions of many of the Elves that eyed him with desire.
And for tonight, he was most willing to oblige them.
He could not face one more night alone, in a cold bed, left to the shadows of his nightmares and fears.
Having quickly seduced a most eager and able stable hand by the name of Arthalion, Glorfindel had swiftly led them to his bedchamber, capturing the Elf's lips in a kiss that held all the passion of millennia of abstinence before his rebirth, and the self imposed celibacy that he had suffered through at the Grey Havens.
But even as his body merged with the other's most willing one, Glorfindel was acutely aware that the pleasure was fleeting and that for all his attempts to tire himself out, the loneliness of the heart that plagued him seemed only increased when the bed play finally stopped.
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A/N:
So? What do you think? Opinions please! Feedback is most welcome and appreciated! Please READ AND REVIEW!!!Elvish:
Adar - father
Naneth - mother
Bereth - spouse
mellon nín - my friend
Ellon - he-Elf
Pen neth - young one
Ellyth - she-Elves
Ellyn - he-Elves
Meldir - friend
Edhil - Elves
Peredhel - Half-Elven
Meldiren - my friend
Mellon - friend
Hir nín - my lord
Elleth - she-Elf
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Círdan
- also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.Eärendil
- Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.Ereinion
- 'scion of Kings'. High King of the Noldor after Turgon's death. Also known by his épessë (surname) Gil-galad.Gil-galad
- Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon.Gondolin
- called the Hidden City or the Hidden Realm. Founded and ruled by Turgon, son of Fingolfin, in the First Age. Eventually destroyed by Morgoth.Mithlond
- the Grey Havens. Ruled by Círdan.('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)
«´¨ Asha D ¨»
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