The Librarian 17/
How the Whip was Won
LotR
NC17
Summery: Erestor = Erestor! w/ Glorfindel & Melpomean
Warnings: BDSM, kink, angst
Disclaimer: All LotR characters and settings are the exclusive property of
the Tolkien estate. I do not have permission to use them.
Feedback: Please – I'm using the comments to beta this mess
For Kharessa and Machiavellian and LK
AN some confusing time shifts here – but I did *try* to answer some 'WTF is
Haldir's part in this?' issues that LK kindly raised. I have no elvish
language skills – feel free to correct / call me a goober if I got the
phrase wrong. Blame Kharessa for the squash.
The Household had been in turmoil. Haldir and his Elves had been tersely informed that they were to be moved from the outer guest quarters and into the main house. As the Galadhrim departed Haldir had spotted Glorfindel cradling Erestor's spiritless body before disappearing into the house. Then the door had been slammed shut and Elrond had issued a decree that no one was to venture within a quarter-furlong of the building. Haldir had anyway, creeping close enough to watch as Glorfindel guarded Erestor's sleep. After several hours of spying he left none the wiser and decided to turn his charm on the maids of the household. From them he learned only the sketchiest of facts: Melpomaen was in the healing house, Erestor was on a leave of absence. Haldir stared at his ceiling, unable to sleep, piecing together the fragments of information until they began to resemble a strategy. He was a warrior, accustomed to rearranging battle plans when the tides of war shifted. He smiled in the darkness. His plan was risky, to be sure, but with both Erestor and Melpomaen unexpectedly occupied, the Library should be empty. At first light he left his rooms and made his way down the halls.
*
Haldir pressed Melpomaen backwards, propelling him into the Library. The assistant responded to each nudge, supple heat to Haldir's deliberate pressure. He yielded so completely that Haldir hesitated. He had expected a refusal, a flirtatious hesitancy to prelude this seduction. He found none. Instead Melpomaen opened himself entirely to Haldir's touch, eager and hot, panting and unresisting to his tentatively intimate caress. Haldir had switched tactics easily; shifting from a stealthy invader of the Library to a brazen seduction of its guardian. His goal remained at the forefront of his every thought. The elf was young, he would get over the hurt, Haldir reasoned. And yet something felt off. Melpomaen wasn't behaving like a coy elfling. No, he seemed almost desperate for him, pressing the length of his body against Haldir, letting him feel just how desperately he wanted this. It chilled the 'Lorien elf.
Haldir stopped, holding Melpomaen far enough away to truly look at him. So young, so lovely, his dark hair unbraided and hanging in thick waves almost to his waist, his eyes large and bright in the moonlight. Blue eyes, and Haldir realized he hadn't noticed them before, hadn't seen the sparkle of intelligence and mischief glinting just below the surface. With a twinge of guilt he knew he hadn't really seen Melpomaen at all, only seen a pawn to be exploited. Haldir faltered. He was unwilling to proceed and unable to look at Melpomaen. Did he need to do this? Something serious had to have happened between Erestor and Melpomaen to drive the desperation that hung on him. He knew somehow that this fervor was a key to the puzzle that had Imladris in disarray. These elves were no more to blame than a bird bitten by a poisonous viper. He glanced away, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot, undecided until his gaze fell to the neatly stacked Orc scrolls.
* "Glorfindel I do not want breakfast"
"But it pleases me to watch you eat Melethen, and I think you will need your strength".
Erestor flushed at the endearment. Glorfindel had a talent for pushing those points on him that were susceptible. On some intellectual level he understood that Glorfindel's prodding was intentional, some part of his no doubt grand scheme to help him recover. But he had a visceral reaction to the manipulation, and felt anger and rebellion welling inside him. He would not allow Glorfindel to see how much the pushes affected him. If only Glorfindel wasn't so good at it.
He stared at the platter in front of him. It was a pile of raw fruits and vegetables that Glorfindel had collected from the kitchen garden. None of it looked very appetizing. There was a scattering of rough leaves, some berries and several types of raw squash. He picked up one of the green varietals, brushing away imaginary dirt.
"I will speak to Elrond about having the kitchen deliver meals, but until then we make do. You are more than welcome to prepare something more to your liking".
Erestor weighed his options. On the one hand he knew this was a test. On the other he wasn't exactly sure how to win. He damn well wasn't going to become Glorfindel's kitchen maid. He began to nibble tentatively along the green shaft when he happened to catch Glorfindel's expression. He knew that look well enough; it was one he had worn often when Melpomaen had turned eating into an erotic tease. The thought froze him. He wasn't doing anything sexual, just eating and yet... He swallowed, blushing as he became aware of the fact that the elongated squash was frozen at the cusp of being consumed, glistening dew escaping from its tooth pierced skin. He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth, choking a little as he swallowed it almost whole. He had hoped to end Glorfindel's now heavy lidded gaze. It did. The old warrior's eyes widened then narrowed into an almost feral countenance. Erestor blushed again, swallowing again with difficulty, then glared.
"Is there something you need Seneshal?"
Anger made his voice sharper than he intended, but the tone didn't appear to faze Glorfindel.
"Many things, but for the moment I am content".
The two elves stared at each-other, neither backing down. Erestor felt the minutes tick by as his vision blurred from the strain. He held the stare, his temper and honor demanding it, until at long last Glorfindel tossed back his head and laughed. Not a victory exactly, but not a defeat either.
"Well Melethen, that pride is something we shall also have to address, but after watching you devour that zucchini I think something else is in order"
"I will not bed you, bond or no".
"I did not ask you to Melamin", Glorfindel answered softly.
*
With a growl Haldir propelled Melpomaen deeper into the room and steeled his gaze from the manuscripts. Not soon enough though, as Mel caught the glance and smiled. Of course. It was inevitable, he supposed, the natural culmination of using his charm to convince the youngster to show him copies of the restored scrolls. It was logical that Mel would think his interest licentious; in fact Haldir had encouraged it. And now it was time to pay the piper.
He dug his fingers into tender skin at Mel's waist knowing full well the Elf's reaction. The irony of the situation was not lost on Haldir as he continued to be the very thing he so despised. He noted with almost clinical disinterest as Melpomean whimpered, the pain obviously arousing him.
"Will you take all of me?"
His voice sounded darker than he imagined possible as he mimicked the language of those wretched scrolls.
"I will take whatever you give me"
Revulsion swept through him, and somewhere he felt this all; the sadness of what he had traded, the guilt over what he was doing, but above it all was a surge of anger and blame. Damn Glorfindel for finding the scrolls, damn Erestor for restoring them, and damn Melpomaen for succumbing to their wickedness and looking so tempting beneath him. So eager, so open.
He ran his hand down Mel's chest, breaking open the clasps on his robe. So alluring. The heady rush of power blurred his thoughts. In all his experience he had never been offered carte blanche. He pinched an exposed nipple, twisting it hard. Melpomaen gasped, but did not object.
*
The Household had been in turmoil. Haldir and his Elves had been tersely informed that they were to be moved from the outer guest quarters and into the main house. As the Galadhrim departed Haldir had spotted Glorfindel cradling Erestor's spiritless body before disappearing into the house. Then the door had been slammed shut and Elrond had issued a decree that no one was to venture within a quarter-furlong of the building. Haldir had anyway, creeping close enough to watch as Glorfindel guarded Erestor's sleep. After several hours of spying he left none the wiser and decided to turn his charm on the maids of the household. From them he learned only the sketchiest of facts: Melpomaen was in the healing house, Erestor was on a leave of absence. Haldir stared at his ceiling, unable to sleep, piecing together the fragments of information until they began to resemble a strategy. He was a warrior, accustomed to rearranging battle plans when the tides of war shifted. He smiled in the darkness. His plan was risky, to be sure, but with both Erestor and Melpomaen unexpectedly occupied, the Library should be empty. At first light he left his rooms and made his way down the halls.
*
Haldir pressed Melpomaen backwards, propelling him into the Library. The assistant responded to each nudge, supple heat to Haldir's deliberate pressure. He yielded so completely that Haldir hesitated. He had expected a refusal, a flirtatious hesitancy to prelude this seduction. He found none. Instead Melpomaen opened himself entirely to Haldir's touch, eager and hot, panting and unresisting to his tentatively intimate caress. Haldir had switched tactics easily; shifting from a stealthy invader of the Library to a brazen seduction of its guardian. His goal remained at the forefront of his every thought. The elf was young, he would get over the hurt, Haldir reasoned. And yet something felt off. Melpomaen wasn't behaving like a coy elfling. No, he seemed almost desperate for him, pressing the length of his body against Haldir, letting him feel just how desperately he wanted this. It chilled the 'Lorien elf.
Haldir stopped, holding Melpomaen far enough away to truly look at him. So young, so lovely, his dark hair unbraided and hanging in thick waves almost to his waist, his eyes large and bright in the moonlight. Blue eyes, and Haldir realized he hadn't noticed them before, hadn't seen the sparkle of intelligence and mischief glinting just below the surface. With a twinge of guilt he knew he hadn't really seen Melpomaen at all, only seen a pawn to be exploited. Haldir faltered. He was unwilling to proceed and unable to look at Melpomaen. Did he need to do this? Something serious had to have happened between Erestor and Melpomaen to drive the desperation that hung on him. He knew somehow that this fervor was a key to the puzzle that had Imladris in disarray. These elves were no more to blame than a bird bitten by a poisonous viper. He glanced away, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot, undecided until his gaze fell to the neatly stacked Orc scrolls.
* "Glorfindel I do not want breakfast"
"But it pleases me to watch you eat Melethen, and I think you will need your strength".
Erestor flushed at the endearment. Glorfindel had a talent for pushing those points on him that were susceptible. On some intellectual level he understood that Glorfindel's prodding was intentional, some part of his no doubt grand scheme to help him recover. But he had a visceral reaction to the manipulation, and felt anger and rebellion welling inside him. He would not allow Glorfindel to see how much the pushes affected him. If only Glorfindel wasn't so good at it.
He stared at the platter in front of him. It was a pile of raw fruits and vegetables that Glorfindel had collected from the kitchen garden. None of it looked very appetizing. There was a scattering of rough leaves, some berries and several types of raw squash. He picked up one of the green varietals, brushing away imaginary dirt.
"I will speak to Elrond about having the kitchen deliver meals, but until then we make do. You are more than welcome to prepare something more to your liking".
Erestor weighed his options. On the one hand he knew this was a test. On the other he wasn't exactly sure how to win. He damn well wasn't going to become Glorfindel's kitchen maid. He began to nibble tentatively along the green shaft when he happened to catch Glorfindel's expression. He knew that look well enough; it was one he had worn often when Melpomaen had turned eating into an erotic tease. The thought froze him. He wasn't doing anything sexual, just eating and yet... He swallowed, blushing as he became aware of the fact that the elongated squash was frozen at the cusp of being consumed, glistening dew escaping from its tooth pierced skin. He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth, choking a little as he swallowed it almost whole. He had hoped to end Glorfindel's now heavy lidded gaze. It did. The old warrior's eyes widened then narrowed into an almost feral countenance. Erestor blushed again, swallowing again with difficulty, then glared.
"Is there something you need Seneshal?"
Anger made his voice sharper than he intended, but the tone didn't appear to faze Glorfindel.
"Many things, but for the moment I am content".
The two elves stared at each-other, neither backing down. Erestor felt the minutes tick by as his vision blurred from the strain. He held the stare, his temper and honor demanding it, until at long last Glorfindel tossed back his head and laughed. Not a victory exactly, but not a defeat either.
"Well Melethen, that pride is something we shall also have to address, but after watching you devour that zucchini I think something else is in order"
"I will not bed you, bond or no".
"I did not ask you to Melamin", Glorfindel answered softly.
*
With a growl Haldir propelled Melpomaen deeper into the room and steeled his gaze from the manuscripts. Not soon enough though, as Mel caught the glance and smiled. Of course. It was inevitable, he supposed, the natural culmination of using his charm to convince the youngster to show him copies of the restored scrolls. It was logical that Mel would think his interest licentious; in fact Haldir had encouraged it. And now it was time to pay the piper.
He dug his fingers into tender skin at Mel's waist knowing full well the Elf's reaction. The irony of the situation was not lost on Haldir as he continued to be the very thing he so despised. He noted with almost clinical disinterest as Melpomean whimpered, the pain obviously arousing him.
"Will you take all of me?"
His voice sounded darker than he imagined possible as he mimicked the language of those wretched scrolls.
"I will take whatever you give me"
Revulsion swept through him, and somewhere he felt this all; the sadness of what he had traded, the guilt over what he was doing, but above it all was a surge of anger and blame. Damn Glorfindel for finding the scrolls, damn Erestor for restoring them, and damn Melpomaen for succumbing to their wickedness and looking so tempting beneath him. So eager, so open.
He ran his hand down Mel's chest, breaking open the clasps on his robe. So alluring. The heady rush of power blurred his thoughts. In all his experience he had never been offered carte blanche. He pinched an exposed nipple, twisting it hard. Melpomaen gasped, but did not object.
*