Title: Wild Justice 36/?
Author: Rune Dancer
Rating: R
Paring: Thranduil/Celeborn/Elrond; Elrohir/Glorfindel; Haldir/Gildor; Elladan/Orophin
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plotline.
Warnings: BDSM. For those of you who have been following this story, you remember what comes after a vanilla chapter, don't you? Fuzzy consent warning.
A/N: This is a continuation of my previous Unspoken story arc. Read them in order--Unspoken/Revelations/Changes/One Last Time/Quid Pro Quo--or prepare to be confused.
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Erestor regarded with serious concern the orc they had acquired as a guide. True, the creature seemed to know his way through the mines, but that did not mean that he was taking them where they wanted to go. After his capture, Erestor had warned him that, should he lead them into a trap, he would be the first to die, and he had nodded in comprehension. It did not reassure him greatly. It was true that most of the creatures were totally without understanding of anything other than self-interest, but there was the odd example that retained, however vaguely, some conception of honour from their distant elvish ancestors. It would be just their luck to run across such a one now, who was willing to risk his life to do what he regarded as his duty. Erestor kept a tight rein on the leash they had fashioned from the creature's own belt to make sure that he did not suddenly disappear down a side tunnel, yet he was nonetheless uneasy.
Glorfindel wasn't in much better shape, he noticed, after glancing quickly at his grim faced companion. He had seemed increasingly jumpy since they entered the caves, and Erestor didn't think it was simply his usual reaction to being underground. He knew his friend wished that they had left Elrohir in Lorien, tied to a bed or chained in the cellar if need be to insure his safety, and none of Erestor's comments that he was as safe as possible this close to the orcs' lair and quite capable of defending himself made any difference. Secretly, Erestor agreed that there was cause for concern--in neither lifetime had Elrohir been the type to ignore a challenge, and this sortie into the mines was taking much longer than they had planned. Suddenly, leaving him in the care of three invalids did not seem like such a good idea. Erestor could only hope his former student would do the sane thing for once and stay put.
Erestor wished he had something to take his mind off such thoughts, but the blank, dark walls that surrounded them provided little in the way of a distraction. Inevitably, his mind went in the very direction he didn't want it to go, and conjured up images he had been trying desperately to ignore. Erestor shivered slightly, then urged on his captive when the orc stopped in response to his action, in fear that it had done something wrong. He grimaced at the thought that the little creature could not possibly be any more terrified than he was himself. His uneasiness, which had been growing ever since they rescued the High King, had gone off the charts when they entered the caves. The knowledge that Gil-Galad still lived had immediately begged the question of who else might have survived those long years, bringing up the possibility that the spectre he had long thought dead might live to haunt him still.
No! It was ridiculous to torment himself like this. There was absolutely no reason to assume that one of the surviving elves had to be Oropher. True, the High King had somehow lasted out the centuries, but even he had been on the verge of death when they found him. Oropher had probably died in battle and, if by some miracle he had not done so, had expired in the mines. Yet, if anyone could endure a traumatic experience somehow intact, it would be Oropher; if nothing else, he would have had his considerable capacity for hatred to sustain him. And Erestor was quite well aware of where that hatred centered.
For the thousandth time he wished there was some way to contact one's former self with words of caution or warning. If he had been able to do so, however, he doubted it was words he would have employed on his younger, cockier self; a sharp blow to his head might have had more effect. For, after all, Oropher had tried words, hadn't he? And look what they had won him.
** "You cannot actually mean to stay with him, Erestor! After what he did to us--to all the Sindar?"
"I do not recall Elrond doing anything to you, Oropher, or have I missed something?" Erestor waved a negligent hand, the other being occupied with his wine glass. "If you wish to take insult at the High King's actions, very well, although one could argue that Arenal rejected him, not the other way around. But to speak in such a fashion about dear Elrond . . . well, that is hardly fair, is it?"
Erestor savoured the wine, some of the best in Gil-Galad's cellars, and watched with delight as Oropher tried to control his temper. The handsome Sindarin noble had come to his chambers after dinner and spent the better part of an hour trying to convince him not to follow his stated course and join Elrond's household. Many of the other Sindar had chosen to link up with Oropher on his scheme to erect a purely Sindarin kingdom, but others were not so sure. Some had feelings of loyalty to the High King or ties of marriage or friendship to various Noldorin households. Some just did not care for Oropher's arrogance or his bigoted attitudes. He had been making valiant attempts to overcome their reluctance, and had won many to his side with a combination of flattery and high-sounding principles. None of it had any meaning for Erestor, but the chance afforded by Oropher's determination to leave none of their people in Lindon was not one to be missed.
Erestor had expected his distant cousin's visit, having insured that a casual comment about where his loyalties lay would be overheard at dinner, and he had dressed accordingly. He had waited years for an opportunity to take what he wanted from the haughty noble, and did not intend to waste the opportunity. His velvet robe matched the colour of the wine in his glass and was open in the front, baring much of his chest to view. Underneath he wore only a loincloth, and had high hopes of not needing even that for much longer. His hair tumbled in an unbound raven wave down his back and over his shoulders, and he had taken the time to brush it to a high shine. Erestor knew he looked well, and was almost amused that Oropher was blind both to his attraction and to what his carefully studied appearance meant for him.
"Elrond!" Oropher almost spat the name. Erestor wondered who it was his cousin hated more, the High King or the king's chief councilor. He supposed they were about equally despised. "That little whore! He was the one who persuaded the king to turn away from Arenal, to shame her and her entire family before the whole court! I do not know how you can even bear to speak his name, much less to contemplate entering his service. Where is your pride, your self-respect? Erestor," he leaned forward in his chair, his face aglow with what Erestor supposed was meant to be appealing earnestness. He found much attractive in that face, but not, he thought with an inner smile, quite in the way his cousin probably expected. "Think what we could accomplish, in a realm of our own! And you would have a place of honour in my kingdom, make no mistake. I could appreciate a councilor such as you and reward you well."
Erestor allowed his smile to become visible, now that they had finally reached the point. "Reward?"
"Indeed yes!" Oropher leaned even closer, his long blond hair brushing accidentally against Erestor's bare knee, but those serious green eyes showed no awareness of the turmoil the simple gesture had caused in his companion. "You can name your price--titles, lands, anything you want! Just say you'll come with me." He took Erestor's long, pale hand in one of his large suntanned ones as he pleaded. Erestor barely managed to avoid licking his lips--Oropher was practically begging, just like in his many fantasies. This was perfect. "You cannot seriously think Elrond will reward you half as well as I."
Erestor drained his glass. It was time to get to the point. "There are many types of rewards," he commented, setting the delicate goblet down on the table at his elbow. He would hate to see it shattered when things became more interesting shortly. "You offer titles and lands. I already have the former--indeed, my branch of the family has never been considered inferior to yours, so I am rather at a loss as to what titles you think you can bestow that would have any meaning for me. Lands and wealth are of equally little value. My parents left me quite well off when they returned to Valinor, as you must know. I have all of my wants and most of my caprices provided for already; there is nothing you have said so far that tempts me."
"But . . . but then, what could Elrond possibly offer you? And never say you follow him out of loyalty! You barely even know him!"
"I do not think loyalty is precisely the issue, no." In truth, Erestor thought Elrond a much more stable choice than Oropher, who had a somewhat fanatical gleam in his eye at times and was far too certain of his own superiority. However, he was not about to say so at the moment.
"Then what is the attraction? What do you hope to gain from him that you could not get from your own people--from me?"
Ah, finally. Erestor brought Oropher's hand to his lips and, as his cousin watched with bewildered eyes, slowly took the thumb into his mouth, letting his tongue curl about the rigid digit as his teeth lightly abraded it. His companion was so shocked that he allowed him to continue for perhaps thirty seconds before wrenching his hand away. His eyes were stunned and his breathing laboured as he regarded him a moment later from a safer distance halfway across the room. "What in Mandos do you think you're doing?"
Erestor sighed and sat back, letting his robe fall open the rest of the way as he did so to reveal his state of undress. He would have been disappointed had Oropher made this too easy; a struggle was expected and even welcomed--as long as it didn't drag on too long. "I will be happy to explain, cousin. But allow me to first clarify why you are really here. We have never been what anyone would describe as close. Why, then, are you so disturbed at the thought that I might pledge my service to Elrond? You despise him, true, but that is not the real issue, is it?"
Erestor managed to keep his lip from curling at the look of surprise on Oropher's features; his cousin underestimated everyone's intelligence, and that had always been especially true in Erestor's case. Just because politics held little interest for him did not mean that he was unable to follow the convoluted pathways of his kinsman's mind when he had good reason. "You don't care if I enter Elrond's household or not, but the many elves whose decisions might be swayed by mine--yes, I think you do care about them. After all, if your own cousin, the head of the other main branch of your house, were to openly stand against this new scheme of yours, how many of our people might reconsider their positions? This isn't about one elf or even the few dozen that I directly control. This is about the success of your entire scheme."
Erestor rose and crossed casually to the bed, draping himself over it invitingly. "So, if you want my support, you'll have to make a much better offer than that."
Oropher's face looked for a moment as if it couldn't decide whether to be outraged or disgusted, but ultimately disgust won. "So this is what that slut Elrond promised you, or has he given it to you already? Do you pleasure him when the king is too busy to be bothered, or do you perhaps join them in their debauchery?"
Erestor almost lost his concentration at the delightful image Oropher's words invoked. But alas, it didn't seem likely that he would find himself sharing a bed with the king and his unofficial consort any time soon. Elrond and Gil-Galad thought they were being discreet, but an elfling could see how besotted they were with each other. Unfortunate, but they weren't his real interest anyway. "Not yet, but one can always hope." He smiled at Oropher's shocked expression. One of the very many things that had always annoyed him about his cousin--even as it strangely attracted him--was his prudery. What a great pleasure it would be to destroy that proud complacency, but he had to obtain his consent first. "You can sneer all you like, Oropher, it matters little to me. But if you hope to win my allegiance, you'll have to do a bit more than that."
"You are mad as well as depraved!" Oropher turned on his heel and strode for the door, his every gesture one of outraged propriety.
"Perhaps." Erestor noticed that, although his cousin had reached the door and even clasped the handle, he did not yet turn it. "But that does not lessen the truth in my words. You need me if you hope for your plan to succeed. Fortunately, there's also a little something I need from you."
Oropher turned around once more, his face purpling. "You . . . you would actually suggest . . . you know I do not . . . that males are not . . . "
"Of course. That's half the fun," Erestor told him truthfully. "Oh, don't worry. I don't want you permanently. Just for tonight." He ran a hand over the satin sheets he had had the servants put on his bed. He was regretting the choice, as they did tend to be rather slippery, but there was nothing to be done about it now. "If you please me, then we can talk about my joining your little scheme and lending you all the support that entails. Otherwise . . . well, Elrond is very fair . . . and worth waiting for."
"He isn't even a full elf!"
"He also isn't the point. Do we have a deal or not?" As Oropher continued to stand by the door, a look of deep revulsion on his features, Erestor sighed. "I don't have all night, cousin. If you refuse to oblige me, I still do not intend to spend the evening alone and will have to make other arrangements. So what is it to be?" He smiled at the inward struggle that was almost perfectly mirrored on his cousin's face. He had gambled that Oropher's great pride would require that he do everything within his power to see that his plan succeeded as, once it had been announced, he would not feel able to remain as a mere subject in Lindon. He had already made himself odious among most of the rest of the elvish community; having gambled his future on a kingdom of his own, he would have nowhere left to go if he failed to mass enough support. Oh yes, he had him, Erestor thought with glee, and Oropher knew it. "Do you agree or not?" Erestor tired of the hunt. He had made his preparations like any good hunter and he wanted his reward.
"If--and I only say if--I was to agree . . . do you swear to join me and use every means in your power to aid me?"
Erestor shrugged. "That will depend on my level of satisfaction with your performance." He ran an appreciative glance over Oropher's fair form. Haughty and swaggering his cousin might be, but there was no doubt that he had reason to feel vain. He was one of the most handsome elves of Erestor's acquaintance, and he well remembered their first meeting as little more than elflings. Oropher had all but struck him dumb when leaving the family bathing pool, seeming like some type of golden god, with sunlight caressing the perfect lines of his body and that bright mane falling unbound almost to his knees. Erestor had wanted him with a helpless passion from that moment, but Oropher's preference for the ladies was soon made more than evident. He had treated his younger relation with the greatest condescension, when he was not teasing him unmercifully. But
although it had been years since that ridiculous infatuation, Erestor's feelings had never entirely faded. Something had told him to bide his time, and wait for events to someday bring him all he desired. But his patience was not endless. "Make up your mind, Oropher, I grow tired of your maidenly reluctance. You've had your share of experience through the years, if even half the rumours are true. You won't find this so very different."
"Then, you'll let me take you?"
"Of course," Erestor smiled at Oropher's look of relief. Just as soon as I've had you, he added silently.
Erestor managed somehow to keep his expression vaguely bored as Oropher studied him. He had no intention of giving away just how much he wanted this. Accustomed to easy conquests, Erestor had been unprepared for how Oropher's unattainable position had affected him. The longer he was forced to wait, the higher his passion flared. He could not afford for Oropher to know that, however, as his wily cousin would no doubt manage to turn it to his advantage. "Come Oropher," Erestor urged, shrugging out of his robe as he spoke, "make up your mind." He gloried in having Oropher's eyes on him with more than just indifference for a change. The ornate court robes, with their long sleeves, heavy brocaded fabrics and high collars, gave little indication of it, but Erestor knew his form to be pleasing; he'd had enough elves tell him so through the years. "Is my courageous cousin daunted by such a simple thing?"
Oropher slowly approached the bed, his face wary. "How do I know you'll keep your word?"
Erestor smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. "When have I ever lied to you, cousin? Now stop stalling and come here." Oropher looked as torn as he probably felt, but Erestor gave him no time to think of a way out of his predicament. Instead he reached up and, with a sudden movement that caught Oropher off guard, dragged him into bed. "You wear too many clothes, cousin," he murmured, divesting Oropher of his thick outer robe and tossing it over a nearby chair. Underneath was only a thin silk shift that revealed more than it concealed. Oropher did not flinch as Erestor's hands ran appreciatively over his body, reveling in finally having those smooth muscles under his control. He knew this would be his only opportunity to experience the sensation and he intended to enjoy every second of it.
The candlelight served the same purpose as the sun all those many years ago, changing Oropher's skin to burnished gold as Erestor pulled the thin shift from his body, baring it to view. "You are truly beautiful, cousin," he breathed, and smiled to see Oropher relax slightly. "Trust me, you'll enjoy this." Burying his hands in that golden mane that he had so longed to touch, Erestor pulled him up for a passionate kiss, dropping his hands to caress the broad shoulders before him as his tongue sought entrance to his reluctant partner's mouth. Oropher eventually opened to him and Erestor immediately deepened the kiss, enjoying the feeling of control over the powerful elf in his arms. He eventually dipped his lips to savour the strong throat and taste the well-muscled chest, noting with pleasure that his partner's heart rate had definitely sped up.
Let him try to feel nothing, Erestor thought as he bit lightly into a dark gold nipple; he had centuries of practice on his side and he quickly learned exactly how Oropher liked to be touched. Within moments that beautiful skin was slick with sweat and the usually emerald eyes were deep jade from passion. "Give in to me, Oropher," Erestor urged, as he kissed and nibbled his way along his partner's powerful inner thighs, sensing the tenseness in the body beneath him. "Why fight what you feel? You can waste time that way if you like, but we both know you want this." Erestor saw with satisfaction that he wasn't lying; his cousin's interest in the proceedings was more than obvious. Taking that as a signal to advance to the next level, he slid his tongue slowly up one side of his partner's arousal, savouring his scent and the velvety softness of the skin
that was stretched tightly over his hardening length.
Oropher was obviously attempting to deny his emotions, but Erestor's attentions soon had him writhing in need. Encouraged, Erestor engulfed him completely, using all his skill to tease him beyond the possibility to control. He considered the salty taste of Oropher's capitulation a personal victory, and swallowed it greedily, never breaking eye contact with the stunned looking elf under him.
"There, that wasn't so . . . unpleasant . . . was it?" Erestor was not surprised when Oropher didn't answer. He would probably need a few minutes to recover enough to have a coherent thought, and Erestor did not intend to waste those precious seconds of confusion. Sliding his hands up his partner's unresisting arms, Erestor slowly pushed them over his head until he could
slip Oropher's wrists through bonds hidden under the pillows at the head of the bed. The next instant, he seized the lubricant from his bedside table with one hand while forcing Oropher's thighs further apart with the other. Before his lover could protest or even fully understand what was happening, Erestor positioned himself and a second later breached his entrance with a powerful thrust.
By the gods but he was a tight fit! Erestor had not anticipated such a struggle at the very beginning, and his partner did not help matters by bucking and twisting beneath him. Oropher almost succeeded in throwing him off, but after a brief struggle, Erestor managed to get a grip on his cousin's hips. He forced him to lie still long enough to fully sheath himself in his lover's warmth.
It was even better than he had dreamed. Oropher cursed and fought, but Erestor ignored him, concentrating on enjoying the powerful flood of adrenaline coursing through him at the challenge. Oropher's arms were corded with his attempts to free himself, but the manacles were strong and Erestor continued his deep strokes into the struggling body with the assurance that they would hold. He located his partner's prostate with the ease of much practice and soon his cousin's formerly satiated erection was taking an active interest in the proceedings once again. Erestor ignored it, however, as there was another matter still to be dealt with. He was not willing just to physically master his partner; he had waited far too long for that alone to satisfy him. "Tell me you want this, Oropher--admit it!"
"Get off me you depraved, perverted son of an orc! When I get free I'm going to . . . " Erestor silenced him by a particularly strong stroke, and a second later Oropher wrapped his long legs about him, forcing him to plunge even deeper.
Erestor looked down on his cousin's heavily flushed face and passion dark eyes and knew what he had to do, however difficult it might be. Making himself stop moving, he waited until Oropher realised what was happening, then informed him as calmly as possible under the circumstances that, if he wasn't interested in proceeding, they could stop. "I would hate to bore you, cousin."
"Curse you! Curse you until the end of time! You belong with the Noldor, Erestor--you are just as degenerate, just as tainted, just as debauched as they are!"
"As impressed as I am by your vocabulary, especially under the circumstances . . . "
"Curse you!"
"I believe you've already said that. In any case, if you want this to continue, you know what I want to hear." Erestor was barely managing to maintain his sanity and had no idea how much longer he could hold out against sensation. The urge to move was so strong that any moment he would have to give in to it. Yet, although his threat was meaningless, Oropher was in no condition to notice that. "Say it," he urged, fighting to keep his voice steady.
"I . . . "
"SAY IT!" Erestor allowed himself to just barely nudge his partner's prostate, and Oropher shuddered beneath him in an agony of need.
"All right! I'll say it! I want you, Erestor. What's more, I need you, and damn you for using that against me!" Oropher clenched his inner muscles around his lover, trying to force him to continue. "Finish this or I swear there will be a Sindarin kin slaying for the bards to sing about!"
Erestor was more than ready to oblige, massaging his cousin's desperate arousal as he quickly finished emptying himself inside that hot channel. It was possibly the most intense orgasm of his life, and he supposed Oropher must have felt something as well, although he said nothing as Erestor collapsed onto him, boneless and satiated, a few moments later. Some things, Erestor thought dazedly, are worth the wait.
With reluctance, he withdrew himself from his lover's body and went to find something with which to clean them up. He returned to find Oropher regarding him quizzically. "That was . . . not what I expected."
The higher part of Erestor's brain was still lost in a satisfied haze, making it easier to concentrate on minor concerns. He regarded his bed sheets critically, deciding that they would have to be changed before they continued. Luckily he had quite a supply. Perhaps he would need them; considering how he felt at the moment, this could easily turn into much more than one night. "Why, did you surprise yourself and enjoy it?"
Oropher ignored the question. "Are you satisfied now?," he asked eagerly. "You will support me?"
Erestor came down to earth with a jolt. He had actually given the question little prior thought, having far less interest in whether Oropher's plans succeeded or not than in obtaining his long held desire. Now, however, he regarded his cousin with disbelief. Even after the experience they had just shared, all he could think about was politics. He supposed he should have expected it. Oropher's life had been one long scheme, filled with endless plotting in his never-ending struggle for more power and increased prestige. He had never learned how to appreciate what he already had in life, and he never would. No, that would not be Erestor's future.
"I wish you success, of course, cousin," he commented lightly, finishing cleaning himself with clinical efficiency. "And knowing you, I am certain you will manage well enough without my poor support."
"What?" Oropher regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You said you never lied. Is this some kind of test, Erestor?"
Erestor smiled, and tossed the cloth he had been using in Oropher's lap. Oh, no, cousin, he thought grimly, you already failed that. Well, what had he expected? Protestations of undying affection? There was no such thing, he reminded himself. Use or be used; there was nothing else. When would he ever learn that? "No, no test. I just think that Lindon suits me better."
He was not particularly surprised when Oropher suddenly launched himself at him and they ended up in a pile on the floor rug. "You said I would have your allegiance! You said . . . "
"That we would talk about my joining you afterwards. We ARE talking, Oropher, but my decision is no."
"You cannot do this!" Erestor rolled out from under his enraged companion and moved a few steps back toward the bed, to put the knife in his nightstand closer to hand should it be needed. Oropher stayed on the rug, however, consciously or not leaving himself at Erestor's feet. "What do you expect to achieve here? Are the crumbs Elrond allows you so satisfying that you would betray your own people?" Oropher waved an arm wildly. "He will NEVER care about you! None of them will! We are just Sindarin scum to them, good enough to wait at table and to fill their armies, but nothing more. You are a fool, Erestor, if you keep to this course."
Erestor shrugged. "Then I'm a fool." He supposed it was true enough. He did not bother to explain to Oropher that Elrond, despite his undoubted charms, was not the point. His cousin had never been able to understand anything except his own gain; to expect him to see that Erestor had just had the last of his childhood romantic dreams crushed before his eyes would be too much to expect. Trying to explain that Lindon's main attraction was that Oropher would not be in it was hardly likely to be understood or well received. "I will do this much. Let it be thought that my decision is a personal one. Say what you will; I will not refute it. That way, my choice should not be interpreted as opposition to your plans."
Oropher rose to his feet and snatched up his outer robe, throwing it about his shoulders in one swift movement. "Oh, I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what you are, Erestor, never fear. Just remember to stay out of my way. Because the next time I see you," he told him severely, "I'll kill you."**
Erestor stumbled on a rock that had been hidden in the darkness of the caves, but quickly righted himself. He shuddered at the emotions his memories could still cause, and hoped Glorfindel put it and his clumsiness down to the cold. Erestor wondered what his friend would think of him if he knew the real reason for the hatred between Mirkwood and Imladris, for he had never told anyone of his and Oropher's little . . . misunderstanding. Everyone had thought they knew the reason for the sundering of the races, and he had not bothered to correct them. It had haunted him, however, especially after Oropher's actions at Barad-dur. How much of his cousin's decision to ignore the High King's orders had been anger at Gil-Galad, and how much at him? He had never known, and since his cousin had fallen--or so he had long thought--in the battle, he had assuaged his conscience by telling himself that it no longer mattered, that it was all in the past. But now the past may have found him once more.
Erestor followed the little orc further into blackness, his thoughts far darker than the mines around him. If Oropher did still live, he had had centuries to brood over the events that had brought him to his fate. Erestor had no doubt that their past relationship had provided a good deal of fodder for thought, and for plans for revenge. It occurred to him as almost funny that, while everyone else in their group worried about the threat posed by the orcs, he was far more concerned about meeting a certain elf.
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TBC
Author: Rune Dancer
Rating: R
Paring: Thranduil/Celeborn/Elrond; Elrohir/Glorfindel; Haldir/Gildor; Elladan/Orophin
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plotline.
Warnings: BDSM. For those of you who have been following this story, you remember what comes after a vanilla chapter, don't you? Fuzzy consent warning.
A/N: This is a continuation of my previous Unspoken story arc. Read them in order--Unspoken/Revelations/Changes/One Last Time/Quid Pro Quo--or prepare to be confused.
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Erestor regarded with serious concern the orc they had acquired as a guide. True, the creature seemed to know his way through the mines, but that did not mean that he was taking them where they wanted to go. After his capture, Erestor had warned him that, should he lead them into a trap, he would be the first to die, and he had nodded in comprehension. It did not reassure him greatly. It was true that most of the creatures were totally without understanding of anything other than self-interest, but there was the odd example that retained, however vaguely, some conception of honour from their distant elvish ancestors. It would be just their luck to run across such a one now, who was willing to risk his life to do what he regarded as his duty. Erestor kept a tight rein on the leash they had fashioned from the creature's own belt to make sure that he did not suddenly disappear down a side tunnel, yet he was nonetheless uneasy.
Glorfindel wasn't in much better shape, he noticed, after glancing quickly at his grim faced companion. He had seemed increasingly jumpy since they entered the caves, and Erestor didn't think it was simply his usual reaction to being underground. He knew his friend wished that they had left Elrohir in Lorien, tied to a bed or chained in the cellar if need be to insure his safety, and none of Erestor's comments that he was as safe as possible this close to the orcs' lair and quite capable of defending himself made any difference. Secretly, Erestor agreed that there was cause for concern--in neither lifetime had Elrohir been the type to ignore a challenge, and this sortie into the mines was taking much longer than they had planned. Suddenly, leaving him in the care of three invalids did not seem like such a good idea. Erestor could only hope his former student would do the sane thing for once and stay put.
Erestor wished he had something to take his mind off such thoughts, but the blank, dark walls that surrounded them provided little in the way of a distraction. Inevitably, his mind went in the very direction he didn't want it to go, and conjured up images he had been trying desperately to ignore. Erestor shivered slightly, then urged on his captive when the orc stopped in response to his action, in fear that it had done something wrong. He grimaced at the thought that the little creature could not possibly be any more terrified than he was himself. His uneasiness, which had been growing ever since they rescued the High King, had gone off the charts when they entered the caves. The knowledge that Gil-Galad still lived had immediately begged the question of who else might have survived those long years, bringing up the possibility that the spectre he had long thought dead might live to haunt him still.
No! It was ridiculous to torment himself like this. There was absolutely no reason to assume that one of the surviving elves had to be Oropher. True, the High King had somehow lasted out the centuries, but even he had been on the verge of death when they found him. Oropher had probably died in battle and, if by some miracle he had not done so, had expired in the mines. Yet, if anyone could endure a traumatic experience somehow intact, it would be Oropher; if nothing else, he would have had his considerable capacity for hatred to sustain him. And Erestor was quite well aware of where that hatred centered.
For the thousandth time he wished there was some way to contact one's former self with words of caution or warning. If he had been able to do so, however, he doubted it was words he would have employed on his younger, cockier self; a sharp blow to his head might have had more effect. For, after all, Oropher had tried words, hadn't he? And look what they had won him.
** "You cannot actually mean to stay with him, Erestor! After what he did to us--to all the Sindar?"
"I do not recall Elrond doing anything to you, Oropher, or have I missed something?" Erestor waved a negligent hand, the other being occupied with his wine glass. "If you wish to take insult at the High King's actions, very well, although one could argue that Arenal rejected him, not the other way around. But to speak in such a fashion about dear Elrond . . . well, that is hardly fair, is it?"
Erestor savoured the wine, some of the best in Gil-Galad's cellars, and watched with delight as Oropher tried to control his temper. The handsome Sindarin noble had come to his chambers after dinner and spent the better part of an hour trying to convince him not to follow his stated course and join Elrond's household. Many of the other Sindar had chosen to link up with Oropher on his scheme to erect a purely Sindarin kingdom, but others were not so sure. Some had feelings of loyalty to the High King or ties of marriage or friendship to various Noldorin households. Some just did not care for Oropher's arrogance or his bigoted attitudes. He had been making valiant attempts to overcome their reluctance, and had won many to his side with a combination of flattery and high-sounding principles. None of it had any meaning for Erestor, but the chance afforded by Oropher's determination to leave none of their people in Lindon was not one to be missed.
Erestor had expected his distant cousin's visit, having insured that a casual comment about where his loyalties lay would be overheard at dinner, and he had dressed accordingly. He had waited years for an opportunity to take what he wanted from the haughty noble, and did not intend to waste the opportunity. His velvet robe matched the colour of the wine in his glass and was open in the front, baring much of his chest to view. Underneath he wore only a loincloth, and had high hopes of not needing even that for much longer. His hair tumbled in an unbound raven wave down his back and over his shoulders, and he had taken the time to brush it to a high shine. Erestor knew he looked well, and was almost amused that Oropher was blind both to his attraction and to what his carefully studied appearance meant for him.
"Elrond!" Oropher almost spat the name. Erestor wondered who it was his cousin hated more, the High King or the king's chief councilor. He supposed they were about equally despised. "That little whore! He was the one who persuaded the king to turn away from Arenal, to shame her and her entire family before the whole court! I do not know how you can even bear to speak his name, much less to contemplate entering his service. Where is your pride, your self-respect? Erestor," he leaned forward in his chair, his face aglow with what Erestor supposed was meant to be appealing earnestness. He found much attractive in that face, but not, he thought with an inner smile, quite in the way his cousin probably expected. "Think what we could accomplish, in a realm of our own! And you would have a place of honour in my kingdom, make no mistake. I could appreciate a councilor such as you and reward you well."
Erestor allowed his smile to become visible, now that they had finally reached the point. "Reward?"
"Indeed yes!" Oropher leaned even closer, his long blond hair brushing accidentally against Erestor's bare knee, but those serious green eyes showed no awareness of the turmoil the simple gesture had caused in his companion. "You can name your price--titles, lands, anything you want! Just say you'll come with me." He took Erestor's long, pale hand in one of his large suntanned ones as he pleaded. Erestor barely managed to avoid licking his lips--Oropher was practically begging, just like in his many fantasies. This was perfect. "You cannot seriously think Elrond will reward you half as well as I."
Erestor drained his glass. It was time to get to the point. "There are many types of rewards," he commented, setting the delicate goblet down on the table at his elbow. He would hate to see it shattered when things became more interesting shortly. "You offer titles and lands. I already have the former--indeed, my branch of the family has never been considered inferior to yours, so I am rather at a loss as to what titles you think you can bestow that would have any meaning for me. Lands and wealth are of equally little value. My parents left me quite well off when they returned to Valinor, as you must know. I have all of my wants and most of my caprices provided for already; there is nothing you have said so far that tempts me."
"But . . . but then, what could Elrond possibly offer you? And never say you follow him out of loyalty! You barely even know him!"
"I do not think loyalty is precisely the issue, no." In truth, Erestor thought Elrond a much more stable choice than Oropher, who had a somewhat fanatical gleam in his eye at times and was far too certain of his own superiority. However, he was not about to say so at the moment.
"Then what is the attraction? What do you hope to gain from him that you could not get from your own people--from me?"
Ah, finally. Erestor brought Oropher's hand to his lips and, as his cousin watched with bewildered eyes, slowly took the thumb into his mouth, letting his tongue curl about the rigid digit as his teeth lightly abraded it. His companion was so shocked that he allowed him to continue for perhaps thirty seconds before wrenching his hand away. His eyes were stunned and his breathing laboured as he regarded him a moment later from a safer distance halfway across the room. "What in Mandos do you think you're doing?"
Erestor sighed and sat back, letting his robe fall open the rest of the way as he did so to reveal his state of undress. He would have been disappointed had Oropher made this too easy; a struggle was expected and even welcomed--as long as it didn't drag on too long. "I will be happy to explain, cousin. But allow me to first clarify why you are really here. We have never been what anyone would describe as close. Why, then, are you so disturbed at the thought that I might pledge my service to Elrond? You despise him, true, but that is not the real issue, is it?"
Erestor managed to keep his lip from curling at the look of surprise on Oropher's features; his cousin underestimated everyone's intelligence, and that had always been especially true in Erestor's case. Just because politics held little interest for him did not mean that he was unable to follow the convoluted pathways of his kinsman's mind when he had good reason. "You don't care if I enter Elrond's household or not, but the many elves whose decisions might be swayed by mine--yes, I think you do care about them. After all, if your own cousin, the head of the other main branch of your house, were to openly stand against this new scheme of yours, how many of our people might reconsider their positions? This isn't about one elf or even the few dozen that I directly control. This is about the success of your entire scheme."
Erestor rose and crossed casually to the bed, draping himself over it invitingly. "So, if you want my support, you'll have to make a much better offer than that."
Oropher's face looked for a moment as if it couldn't decide whether to be outraged or disgusted, but ultimately disgust won. "So this is what that slut Elrond promised you, or has he given it to you already? Do you pleasure him when the king is too busy to be bothered, or do you perhaps join them in their debauchery?"
Erestor almost lost his concentration at the delightful image Oropher's words invoked. But alas, it didn't seem likely that he would find himself sharing a bed with the king and his unofficial consort any time soon. Elrond and Gil-Galad thought they were being discreet, but an elfling could see how besotted they were with each other. Unfortunate, but they weren't his real interest anyway. "Not yet, but one can always hope." He smiled at Oropher's shocked expression. One of the very many things that had always annoyed him about his cousin--even as it strangely attracted him--was his prudery. What a great pleasure it would be to destroy that proud complacency, but he had to obtain his consent first. "You can sneer all you like, Oropher, it matters little to me. But if you hope to win my allegiance, you'll have to do a bit more than that."
"You are mad as well as depraved!" Oropher turned on his heel and strode for the door, his every gesture one of outraged propriety.
"Perhaps." Erestor noticed that, although his cousin had reached the door and even clasped the handle, he did not yet turn it. "But that does not lessen the truth in my words. You need me if you hope for your plan to succeed. Fortunately, there's also a little something I need from you."
Oropher turned around once more, his face purpling. "You . . . you would actually suggest . . . you know I do not . . . that males are not . . . "
"Of course. That's half the fun," Erestor told him truthfully. "Oh, don't worry. I don't want you permanently. Just for tonight." He ran a hand over the satin sheets he had had the servants put on his bed. He was regretting the choice, as they did tend to be rather slippery, but there was nothing to be done about it now. "If you please me, then we can talk about my joining your little scheme and lending you all the support that entails. Otherwise . . . well, Elrond is very fair . . . and worth waiting for."
"He isn't even a full elf!"
"He also isn't the point. Do we have a deal or not?" As Oropher continued to stand by the door, a look of deep revulsion on his features, Erestor sighed. "I don't have all night, cousin. If you refuse to oblige me, I still do not intend to spend the evening alone and will have to make other arrangements. So what is it to be?" He smiled at the inward struggle that was almost perfectly mirrored on his cousin's face. He had gambled that Oropher's great pride would require that he do everything within his power to see that his plan succeeded as, once it had been announced, he would not feel able to remain as a mere subject in Lindon. He had already made himself odious among most of the rest of the elvish community; having gambled his future on a kingdom of his own, he would have nowhere left to go if he failed to mass enough support. Oh yes, he had him, Erestor thought with glee, and Oropher knew it. "Do you agree or not?" Erestor tired of the hunt. He had made his preparations like any good hunter and he wanted his reward.
"If--and I only say if--I was to agree . . . do you swear to join me and use every means in your power to aid me?"
Erestor shrugged. "That will depend on my level of satisfaction with your performance." He ran an appreciative glance over Oropher's fair form. Haughty and swaggering his cousin might be, but there was no doubt that he had reason to feel vain. He was one of the most handsome elves of Erestor's acquaintance, and he well remembered their first meeting as little more than elflings. Oropher had all but struck him dumb when leaving the family bathing pool, seeming like some type of golden god, with sunlight caressing the perfect lines of his body and that bright mane falling unbound almost to his knees. Erestor had wanted him with a helpless passion from that moment, but Oropher's preference for the ladies was soon made more than evident. He had treated his younger relation with the greatest condescension, when he was not teasing him unmercifully. But
although it had been years since that ridiculous infatuation, Erestor's feelings had never entirely faded. Something had told him to bide his time, and wait for events to someday bring him all he desired. But his patience was not endless. "Make up your mind, Oropher, I grow tired of your maidenly reluctance. You've had your share of experience through the years, if even half the rumours are true. You won't find this so very different."
"Then, you'll let me take you?"
"Of course," Erestor smiled at Oropher's look of relief. Just as soon as I've had you, he added silently.
Erestor managed somehow to keep his expression vaguely bored as Oropher studied him. He had no intention of giving away just how much he wanted this. Accustomed to easy conquests, Erestor had been unprepared for how Oropher's unattainable position had affected him. The longer he was forced to wait, the higher his passion flared. He could not afford for Oropher to know that, however, as his wily cousin would no doubt manage to turn it to his advantage. "Come Oropher," Erestor urged, shrugging out of his robe as he spoke, "make up your mind." He gloried in having Oropher's eyes on him with more than just indifference for a change. The ornate court robes, with their long sleeves, heavy brocaded fabrics and high collars, gave little indication of it, but Erestor knew his form to be pleasing; he'd had enough elves tell him so through the years. "Is my courageous cousin daunted by such a simple thing?"
Oropher slowly approached the bed, his face wary. "How do I know you'll keep your word?"
Erestor smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. "When have I ever lied to you, cousin? Now stop stalling and come here." Oropher looked as torn as he probably felt, but Erestor gave him no time to think of a way out of his predicament. Instead he reached up and, with a sudden movement that caught Oropher off guard, dragged him into bed. "You wear too many clothes, cousin," he murmured, divesting Oropher of his thick outer robe and tossing it over a nearby chair. Underneath was only a thin silk shift that revealed more than it concealed. Oropher did not flinch as Erestor's hands ran appreciatively over his body, reveling in finally having those smooth muscles under his control. He knew this would be his only opportunity to experience the sensation and he intended to enjoy every second of it.
The candlelight served the same purpose as the sun all those many years ago, changing Oropher's skin to burnished gold as Erestor pulled the thin shift from his body, baring it to view. "You are truly beautiful, cousin," he breathed, and smiled to see Oropher relax slightly. "Trust me, you'll enjoy this." Burying his hands in that golden mane that he had so longed to touch, Erestor pulled him up for a passionate kiss, dropping his hands to caress the broad shoulders before him as his tongue sought entrance to his reluctant partner's mouth. Oropher eventually opened to him and Erestor immediately deepened the kiss, enjoying the feeling of control over the powerful elf in his arms. He eventually dipped his lips to savour the strong throat and taste the well-muscled chest, noting with pleasure that his partner's heart rate had definitely sped up.
Let him try to feel nothing, Erestor thought as he bit lightly into a dark gold nipple; he had centuries of practice on his side and he quickly learned exactly how Oropher liked to be touched. Within moments that beautiful skin was slick with sweat and the usually emerald eyes were deep jade from passion. "Give in to me, Oropher," Erestor urged, as he kissed and nibbled his way along his partner's powerful inner thighs, sensing the tenseness in the body beneath him. "Why fight what you feel? You can waste time that way if you like, but we both know you want this." Erestor saw with satisfaction that he wasn't lying; his cousin's interest in the proceedings was more than obvious. Taking that as a signal to advance to the next level, he slid his tongue slowly up one side of his partner's arousal, savouring his scent and the velvety softness of the skin
that was stretched tightly over his hardening length.
Oropher was obviously attempting to deny his emotions, but Erestor's attentions soon had him writhing in need. Encouraged, Erestor engulfed him completely, using all his skill to tease him beyond the possibility to control. He considered the salty taste of Oropher's capitulation a personal victory, and swallowed it greedily, never breaking eye contact with the stunned looking elf under him.
"There, that wasn't so . . . unpleasant . . . was it?" Erestor was not surprised when Oropher didn't answer. He would probably need a few minutes to recover enough to have a coherent thought, and Erestor did not intend to waste those precious seconds of confusion. Sliding his hands up his partner's unresisting arms, Erestor slowly pushed them over his head until he could
slip Oropher's wrists through bonds hidden under the pillows at the head of the bed. The next instant, he seized the lubricant from his bedside table with one hand while forcing Oropher's thighs further apart with the other. Before his lover could protest or even fully understand what was happening, Erestor positioned himself and a second later breached his entrance with a powerful thrust.
By the gods but he was a tight fit! Erestor had not anticipated such a struggle at the very beginning, and his partner did not help matters by bucking and twisting beneath him. Oropher almost succeeded in throwing him off, but after a brief struggle, Erestor managed to get a grip on his cousin's hips. He forced him to lie still long enough to fully sheath himself in his lover's warmth.
It was even better than he had dreamed. Oropher cursed and fought, but Erestor ignored him, concentrating on enjoying the powerful flood of adrenaline coursing through him at the challenge. Oropher's arms were corded with his attempts to free himself, but the manacles were strong and Erestor continued his deep strokes into the struggling body with the assurance that they would hold. He located his partner's prostate with the ease of much practice and soon his cousin's formerly satiated erection was taking an active interest in the proceedings once again. Erestor ignored it, however, as there was another matter still to be dealt with. He was not willing just to physically master his partner; he had waited far too long for that alone to satisfy him. "Tell me you want this, Oropher--admit it!"
"Get off me you depraved, perverted son of an orc! When I get free I'm going to . . . " Erestor silenced him by a particularly strong stroke, and a second later Oropher wrapped his long legs about him, forcing him to plunge even deeper.
Erestor looked down on his cousin's heavily flushed face and passion dark eyes and knew what he had to do, however difficult it might be. Making himself stop moving, he waited until Oropher realised what was happening, then informed him as calmly as possible under the circumstances that, if he wasn't interested in proceeding, they could stop. "I would hate to bore you, cousin."
"Curse you! Curse you until the end of time! You belong with the Noldor, Erestor--you are just as degenerate, just as tainted, just as debauched as they are!"
"As impressed as I am by your vocabulary, especially under the circumstances . . . "
"Curse you!"
"I believe you've already said that. In any case, if you want this to continue, you know what I want to hear." Erestor was barely managing to maintain his sanity and had no idea how much longer he could hold out against sensation. The urge to move was so strong that any moment he would have to give in to it. Yet, although his threat was meaningless, Oropher was in no condition to notice that. "Say it," he urged, fighting to keep his voice steady.
"I . . . "
"SAY IT!" Erestor allowed himself to just barely nudge his partner's prostate, and Oropher shuddered beneath him in an agony of need.
"All right! I'll say it! I want you, Erestor. What's more, I need you, and damn you for using that against me!" Oropher clenched his inner muscles around his lover, trying to force him to continue. "Finish this or I swear there will be a Sindarin kin slaying for the bards to sing about!"
Erestor was more than ready to oblige, massaging his cousin's desperate arousal as he quickly finished emptying himself inside that hot channel. It was possibly the most intense orgasm of his life, and he supposed Oropher must have felt something as well, although he said nothing as Erestor collapsed onto him, boneless and satiated, a few moments later. Some things, Erestor thought dazedly, are worth the wait.
With reluctance, he withdrew himself from his lover's body and went to find something with which to clean them up. He returned to find Oropher regarding him quizzically. "That was . . . not what I expected."
The higher part of Erestor's brain was still lost in a satisfied haze, making it easier to concentrate on minor concerns. He regarded his bed sheets critically, deciding that they would have to be changed before they continued. Luckily he had quite a supply. Perhaps he would need them; considering how he felt at the moment, this could easily turn into much more than one night. "Why, did you surprise yourself and enjoy it?"
Oropher ignored the question. "Are you satisfied now?," he asked eagerly. "You will support me?"
Erestor came down to earth with a jolt. He had actually given the question little prior thought, having far less interest in whether Oropher's plans succeeded or not than in obtaining his long held desire. Now, however, he regarded his cousin with disbelief. Even after the experience they had just shared, all he could think about was politics. He supposed he should have expected it. Oropher's life had been one long scheme, filled with endless plotting in his never-ending struggle for more power and increased prestige. He had never learned how to appreciate what he already had in life, and he never would. No, that would not be Erestor's future.
"I wish you success, of course, cousin," he commented lightly, finishing cleaning himself with clinical efficiency. "And knowing you, I am certain you will manage well enough without my poor support."
"What?" Oropher regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You said you never lied. Is this some kind of test, Erestor?"
Erestor smiled, and tossed the cloth he had been using in Oropher's lap. Oh, no, cousin, he thought grimly, you already failed that. Well, what had he expected? Protestations of undying affection? There was no such thing, he reminded himself. Use or be used; there was nothing else. When would he ever learn that? "No, no test. I just think that Lindon suits me better."
He was not particularly surprised when Oropher suddenly launched himself at him and they ended up in a pile on the floor rug. "You said I would have your allegiance! You said . . . "
"That we would talk about my joining you afterwards. We ARE talking, Oropher, but my decision is no."
"You cannot do this!" Erestor rolled out from under his enraged companion and moved a few steps back toward the bed, to put the knife in his nightstand closer to hand should it be needed. Oropher stayed on the rug, however, consciously or not leaving himself at Erestor's feet. "What do you expect to achieve here? Are the crumbs Elrond allows you so satisfying that you would betray your own people?" Oropher waved an arm wildly. "He will NEVER care about you! None of them will! We are just Sindarin scum to them, good enough to wait at table and to fill their armies, but nothing more. You are a fool, Erestor, if you keep to this course."
Erestor shrugged. "Then I'm a fool." He supposed it was true enough. He did not bother to explain to Oropher that Elrond, despite his undoubted charms, was not the point. His cousin had never been able to understand anything except his own gain; to expect him to see that Erestor had just had the last of his childhood romantic dreams crushed before his eyes would be too much to expect. Trying to explain that Lindon's main attraction was that Oropher would not be in it was hardly likely to be understood or well received. "I will do this much. Let it be thought that my decision is a personal one. Say what you will; I will not refute it. That way, my choice should not be interpreted as opposition to your plans."
Oropher rose to his feet and snatched up his outer robe, throwing it about his shoulders in one swift movement. "Oh, I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what you are, Erestor, never fear. Just remember to stay out of my way. Because the next time I see you," he told him severely, "I'll kill you."**
Erestor stumbled on a rock that had been hidden in the darkness of the caves, but quickly righted himself. He shuddered at the emotions his memories could still cause, and hoped Glorfindel put it and his clumsiness down to the cold. Erestor wondered what his friend would think of him if he knew the real reason for the hatred between Mirkwood and Imladris, for he had never told anyone of his and Oropher's little . . . misunderstanding. Everyone had thought they knew the reason for the sundering of the races, and he had not bothered to correct them. It had haunted him, however, especially after Oropher's actions at Barad-dur. How much of his cousin's decision to ignore the High King's orders had been anger at Gil-Galad, and how much at him? He had never known, and since his cousin had fallen--or so he had long thought--in the battle, he had assuaged his conscience by telling himself that it no longer mattered, that it was all in the past. But now the past may have found him once more.
Erestor followed the little orc further into blackness, his thoughts far darker than the mines around him. If Oropher did still live, he had had centuries to brood over the events that had brought him to his fate. Erestor had no doubt that their past relationship had provided a good deal of fodder for thought, and for plans for revenge. It occurred to him as almost funny that, while everyone else in their group worried about the threat posed by the orcs, he was far more concerned about meeting a certain elf.
* * *
TBC