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!
Also, I am very sorry for the long wait but Real Life interfered as always and I am in the middle of my mock final exams.
NOTICE
: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now 'ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie.'Response to reviewers:
Beatrix Ravenclaw
- now.Earendil Eldar
- talk about being pent up!EmpressTryphosa
- thanks for reviewing!Haldir's Heart and Soul
- yeah, if he cares to notice. Besides Glorfindel can be discreet!Linfindel
- thanks for your comments!Losseniaiel
- yes, the Elvish translations will now go at the end only!Melian
- thank you for your comments. In addition, I will take your advice about the translations.S-belmyne
- thanks! And your story is great!She-Cat
- I thanked you for reviewing of course!Trustingfriendship
- Thanks!CHAPTER THREE: FIRST STIRRINGS
Lindon, the year 1610 of the Second Age.
"I still say that Lord Mithrael's estimate is grossly exaggerated," Erestor said, "There is no way that the kitchens are overspending on produce. With so many people constantly moving in and out of Lindon, they are only being prudent."
"Relax, mellon nín," Elrond said, "We all know that Mithrael delights in causing you trouble."
It was no secret that Mithrael hated Erestor with a vengeance, begrudging him his influence with the king and his herald. Erestor habitually ignored his bile, but there were times when Mithrael made life difficult for the Elf.
As Elrond skilfully soothed his friend, Glorfindel watched the by play in fascination. He had not been long in Lindon ere he had been forced to put up with a troop of counsellors coming to see, or stare at, the 'legend' of Glorfindel of Gondolin. The golden Elda detested them with all their false words, insincere charm and most unsubtle gaping. The only advisor who had not accosted him was Erestor, who merely looked at him appraisingly with his cool dark eyes, as if waiting to see if he was going to make a mistake.
Glorfindel had also realised that the true duties of a counsellor fell mostly on Erestor, for the little use that Gil-galad got out of the rest of them, and that the High King was well aware of who held the true power in that gaggle of advisors. The others knew it as well, and hated the slim Noldo for it, but were wise enough not to show it when the King or his Herald were present. In addition, he knew that Gil-galad and Elrond nearly always listened to his opinions on matters that most of the other advisors were not privy to.
As Erestor was in charge of the smooth running of the palace, Glorfindel, as captain of the guard, often had budget matters to discuss regarding the outfitting of the troops, and so the Elda had firsthand experience dealing with Erestor's sharp wit and sharper tongue.
And what he found in the Elf intrigued him.
And surprised by that flicker of interest, he had watched the reserved Elf closely, but for all his endeavours to find out what lay behind the mask, he had not been able to see beneath it.
But in the sessions where Elrond was present, the Peredhel brought the counsellor out of his shell a little, especially if no one else was present. And so having been already exposed to Erestor's wit, and rapier of a tongue, Glorfindel now saw glimpses of the younger Elf's humour and temperament. And he liked what he saw.
Erestor seemed to be a very well grounded Elf, and a responsible one. But best of all to Glorfindel's eyes, he seemed to care little for his fame and even less for the fawning that was regularly inflicted on him.
And so after the meeting was done, Glorfindel delayed Elrond a moment after the others had left, "Elrond," he said, "May I ask you something?"
The Peredhel looked at him in small surprise, "Of course, Glorfindel." he answered, "What is it you wish to ask?"
"I wish to know more about Erestor," Glorfindel said quietly, "He is an enigma to me, and I fear not one I can crack with just observation."
A wary light came into the herald's grey eyes, so reminiscent of Turgon, "I fear that Erestor's business is his own, Glorfindel," Elrond said carefully, "And I would know more of what you wish to know ere I would tell anything."
"He has raised my curiosity," the Elda answered honestly, "Ever since I came here, few have been those that have treated me as a person, and not some hero from legends, and his reserve has me curious. Especially since we shall be working together for the foreseeable future."
Elrond studied him carefully, and then sighed, "There is not much I can tell you, even if I could. I cannot break a friend's confidence, and Glorfindel, do not take offence at my words, but I say now that I will not tolerate anyone toying with his feelings. I do not pass comment on your activities, but I think that your personality would overwhelm Erestor's if he let you, and I know he wants no part of any casual relationship. It is not his way."
Glorfindel nodded, and watched the younger Elf thoughtfully as he left. Both Elrond and Gil-galad seemed to have firm 'keep away' signs out when it came to Erestor, for whatever reason. He knew that the shy Elf was neither the lover of King nor Herald, and no ties of kinship seemed to hold them. Indeed, Erestor had trouble calling either by their names and not their titles.
Still, he was not as foolish as to risk the High King's ire, or the wrath of Lord Elrond, for a mere feeling of curiosity. Whatever fascination young Erestor held, he was sure it was nothing more than a passing thing. Too often had Ecthelion told him that he had a very discerning eye, and more curiosity than all the cats in Gondolin.
No, he would leave the mystery of Erestor be, and turn his attentions to more pleasurable matters than puzzling out an enigma.
-
Rising from the bed, he looked askance at the figure under the covers, still held in reverie, and crossed to the balcony. Ever since his return to Middle Earth, he had been taunted by dreams of a love of his own. Every time he slept, he could see a figure, feel the love that passed between him, but always, the figure was out of his reach. He could see neither face nor form, and no telling name passed their lips. At first, he thought that it had been a sign of hope, that he was to meet someone who could fill the emptiness in his heart but as more and more time passed by, he could only consign it to be some torturous dream; showing something that he wanted desperately, but could never have.
It wore on him. He had made efforts to seek out a mate, to see if any were the one that called to him in his slumber, but each time he was disappointed anew. Nothing more than lust ever passed between him and those who caught his eye, and as his dream seemed to slip farther and farther out of reach, these empty encounters burdened his soul.
He cared not for awe, nor hero worship, nor lust, nor the ambitions that others held when they saw him. They only saw the Balrog Slayer of Gondolin; - a name he had never claimed for himself. In fact, he scorned them for it, for had not dearest Ecthelion slain more than he, and Gothmog, the Lord of Balrogs at that? It grated on his nerves, and wore on his patience but he endured it with ever fading hope that somewhere in Middle Earth, there was one that he could cherish and be cherished by in return.
The sharing of the body that he had indulged in in Gondolin was no longer enough. He needed more than empty words and hollow passions. He wanted someone he would be content to hold and talk of their day, someone that could put that warm glow into his heart, someone to be his for eternity.
With one last glance at the brown haired figure in his bed, he dressed quietly and left to wander the gardens of the palace, hoping that some inspiration would strike him to put an end to this cycle of disappointment.
-
The sound of steel meeting steel carried through the cold air, echoing across the near empty grounds.
In the training field, Ereinion Gil-galad and Glorfindel circled each other, swords held ready, sparring with rarely seen skill.
The hour was early, and they were alone; a state both of them preferred. And both were eager to test their own skill against the other's reputation. Glorfindel and Gil-galad had established an easy rapport, both being Ellyn who preferred action to endlessly debating something, and nearly anything to paperwork.
For their parts, Gil-galad was pleased to have a friend who was not impressed with his title, a rarity in his life, and Glorfindel was pleased that Gil-galad did not fawn and was also of an easy temper.
And so King and Lord had become quite well acquainted since the Elda's arrival, and Gil-galad had taken him into his confidence- after all, there were just some things that he could not share even with Elrond.
"You have the same problem as I, mellon," Gil-galad said as he parried a bone-shocking blow from Glorfindel, "'Tis the burden of either being titled, or famous, or in your case, both. It should die down in a millennia or so."
The Elda gave him a glowering look, "Why thank you, meldiren, that reassures me so greatly," he said sardonically as he lunged again at the king, "And considering your long years of being King, I would have thought you would have settled down by now. Surely there was someone who caught your interest?"
"Attempts to catch my interest and have the prestige of being bedded by a king, along with ambition is what I have mostly seen," Gil-galad said, nearly landing a strike on Glorfindel's thigh, "I have yet to meet one that makes my heart sing, and I confess that loneliness wears on me."
Glorfindel's face sobered, "Aye, we share the same dilemma; I too cannot find a love, though I wish for one. It seems that things never come when we are ready for them."
Gil-galad arched an eyebrow, "From what I have heard, though you are very discreet I give you, is that you have bedded more than your fair share of Ellyth and Ellyn since coming here. Do none of them satisfy you for a bed-mate?"
"None of them see me," Glorfindel growled out, "They see only the 'Balrog Slayer' of tales, much as they see you as the king. I cannot escape their shallowness."
Gil-galad held up his hand to signal for a tie and a stop to the sparring match, "I am sorry, Glorfindel," he said quietly, "Mayhap the solstice festival will cheer your spirits?"
The blonde glared at him, "I shall be in a room, wearing finery, with plenty of wine flowing, trapped there with everyone I wish would leave me alone. How can I possibly enjoy myself?"
Gil-galad clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed sympathetically, "Aye, I know what you go through. The first two centuries of banquets are always the worst, but perhaps Erestor would share his corner with you? He always manages to find a shadowed spot…."
He barely ducked Glorfindel's playfully swatting hand.
-
Two days later, a bemused Glorfindel spotted counsellor Erestor on the training fields. The advisor shyly waved him over. And curious, he went.
"Lord Erestor," he said, discomfiting the other Ellon, "What are you doing here on such a fine day?" The counsellor was dressed in his customary dark robes, and dark eyes pinned him as he approached.
"We have matters to discuss, Hir nín," Erestor replied stiffly, "I was told to seek you out, to deal with the acquisition of some new armour and the funding for it. Is now a good time, Lord Glorfindel?"
The Elda had almost forgotten about the order, figuring it lost amid the mires of papers that routinely buried the king's desk. "Of course, counsellor," he replied graciously, "Lead the way to your office."
Following the small, dark clad figure through the winding halls of the palace, he was surprised at the counsellor's office, it being his first time there. The smooth curving walls and glorious architecture would not have done badly for Elrond's office and it confirmed his opinions that Ereinion Gil-galad was grooming young Erestor for some higher office. From what he had seen of the other Elf, if he could come out of his shell, then he could be a very formidable opponent to anyone in the field of diplomacy and organisation.
Taking the seat offered, he watched with no small amusement as Erestor produced his original order from a pile of immaculately ordered documents. "His Majesty has cleared your order," he began, "But the smiths need more specifics on what type of armour who are looking for and the soldiers they are intended for. This order will be sent to the Gwaith-i-Mirdain in Eregion so we need to have all the particulars sent with it."
And as they discussed the details, the younger Elf more animated than he had seen him since the disaster in the kitchens, Glorfindel felt a strange feeling well up in his heart. A longing… for the Elf in front of him. It was if he was a bee and Erestor was the honey.
He tried to remember Elrond's caution and the well acknowledged shyness of the other Ellon, but Glorfindel could only find himself wondering how he had not seen the merit in the others darkling beauty, the keen intelligence and the wicked wit. He was captivated. And he knew not why.
Feeling the weight of that cool stare upon him, in puzzlement as his mind had drifted from the conversation, to the way a dark lock of hair played beside Erestor's ear.
Moreover, even as he departed from the office, there was a twinge of pain in his heart at the separation, and hidden behind a pillar, he watched the slender figure walk away and disappear down another corridor ere he left himself.
-
It was a troubled lord of Gondolin that went to the High King for advice.
Troubled by the unrest in his heart, he spilled his tale to the king, and after he was finished telling of the feelings that had taken hold of him, he sat back and awaited the king's advice.
Ereinion was silent for a long moment but then he began to speak, "Are you sure about this, Glorfindel?" he asked, "Erestor is a quiet Elf, not prone to company- or lovers , and he has his own past. I would not wish to see him hurt."
"Elrond said much the same. Why is he so important to you?"
"Because he is a treasured friend, a loyal counsellor and a wise soul," Ereinion said, leaning back in his own high backed chair, "I wonder at your feeling anything for him, meldir, you are very much different in personality."
"Because out of all the Edhil I have seen since returning to Middle Earth, he is the only one who has stirred me so. I know that he is a pen neth, but I wish to know more ere I make any decision as to this longing's validity. I know little of his personality; save that his cold shell is consumed in fire when he is angry."
"Glorfindel, if your feelings are true, and that you and Erestor are meant to be, I shall be very happy for you both," Ereinion said, "But I beg you, take this slow, get to know him first ere you broach anything. I would not have this end badly for either of you. Do not rush this. If you can like him as a friend, then you can turn your mind to other things if it works out, but I will not see either of you hurt if I can help it."
The Elda nodded, "I see the wisdom in your words and I shall follow your advice. If I do seek to court Erestor, then rest assured that I shall mean it."
"That is all I can ask."
-
The winter solstice was an undeniable success. Everyone was enjoying themselves, the food and wine were flowing nicely and the music was perfect. Standing in his normal corner, Erestor felt free to congratulate himself on a job well done.
However, all was not meant to be so.
Gildor and Glorfindel, well filled with wine, were staging some contest of tales, when Glorfindel, forgetting his strength, pushed Gildor, who staggered and while the rest of the Edhil watched on in horror and amusement, he fell into the banquet table, bringing the food and drink clattering on him and down around his ears.
Even as Glorfindel rushed to help him, he slipped and slid on the messy floor and he grabbed a tall candlestick on the way down to try to prevent his most undignified fall. He fell anyway but the candle caught the decorative bunting and streamers and set them alight.
Before either Gildor or Glorfindel could drag themselves up from the mess they had fallen in, the entire solstice decorations and meal had been ruined and every eye in the room was on them.
Including one pair of narrowed, smouldering balefully, dark eyes.
The entire hall watched aghast as all of Erestor's carefully and meticulously planned decorations and arrangements were unceremoniously destroyed in quick succession. The advisor in question could only watch his perfect winter solstice festival vanish amid ruins as the people responsible cringed at the amount of devastation they had caused.
Gil-galad and Elrond nervously watched Erestor, whose fists were clenched, his dark eyes spewing molten fire, and whose not so inconsiderable ire when roused was directed towards the unwitting Balrog Slayer, and the Lord of the Wandering Company.
Both of them knew that look well. It took quite a lot to rouse it from the normally reserved Noldo, but when it took hold, the advisor was a force to be reckoned with.
Elrond personally thought Glorfindel would have had better luck with another Balrog, whilst Gil-galad idly mused that his predictions over Erestor making Glorfindel's daily life most uncomfortable seemed to be coming true.
The entire room watched in shock as the slender advisor, who was practically seething with rage, stalked over to the two miscreants, his footing ever sure.
Dark eyes bored into them for a long moment ere that deceptively silky voice spoke, anger tingeing it, "This…. disaster is all your fault!" Erestor snarled, hands on hips as he glowered at the two shocked Elves, who had never seen the advisor like this. "I cannot believe this! And you are supposed to be warriors! And yet you set fire to the celebrations! You are no better than irrepressible elflings! Save that they would have more sense! I care naught for what titles you claim, you will clean up this mess by yourselves! And by Elbereth, if I hear that you tried to ask anyone else to help you, I will ensure your life is akin to an extended stay in the pits of Udûn! Am I understood!"
Glorfindel glanced at Gil-galad but the king only shrugged, as if to say, 'what do you expect me to do?' and then Gildor and he shared a glance, and as one turned to look back at the livid advisor, who for all his reserve, now resembled a dark dragon intent on devouring them.
Hearing no response, Erestor's eyes flashed, "Am I understood, elflings!" he said again, fury colouring his tone.
With a resigned nod, Glorfindel looked at this new side to the counsellor, and said, "Aye, Master Erestor," he said, "We understand."
"Good," the Elf snapped, "Because if you do not put out those fires, I will show you the meaning of 'cruel and unusual punishment'!"
And with that, the Elf stormed out of the hall, a path opening for him through the crowd and with an amused glance at Glorfindel, Elrond left the remnants of the high table to chase after his friends.
The housekeeper approached with a mop and a brush, and handed one to each of them, ignoring their dismayed and pleading looks. And as the two Eldar looked around the sea of steadily growing more and more amused faces, they realised that Erestor had already given them a 'cruel and unusual punishment'.
Because none of these Elves were going to miss the chance to see the two wine and food covered Eldar clean up this disaster in front of them.
Glorfindel got the sinking feeling that he had greatly underestimated the deceptively delicate Erestor.
Because the Balrog slayer seemed to have lost this round.
-
A/N:
So? What do you think? Opinions please! Feedback is most welcome and appreciated! Please READ AND REVIEW!NOTICE
: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now 'ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie.'Elvish:
Mellon nín - my friend
Peredhel - Half-Elven
Ellyn - he-Elves
Mellon - friend
Meldiren - my friend
Ellyth - she-Elves
Hir nín - my lord
Ellon - he-Elf
Meldir - friend
Edhil - Elves
Pen neth - young one
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Eregion
- an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.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.('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)
«´¨ Asha D ¨»
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