The Librarian 19/
How the Whip was Won
LotR
NC17
Summery: Erestor = Erestor! w/ Glorfindel & Melpomean
Warnings: BDSM, kink, ahhh getting harder to code
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, Machiavellian and LK
AN LK graciously beta read this and offered some brilliant suggestions –
Thank you.
If Erestor thought that agreeing to Glorfindel's proposition meant the warrior would use his body as had used Melpomaen's, that illusion was quickly shattered. The Valar only knew how many lovers the Eldar had taken over the ages, and the legend of his physical prowess was second only to the story of slaying the Balrog. Erestor had been so worried when he learned of the binding that Glorfindel would expect, well, some physical intimacy that he'd twisted himself into knots dreading the inevitable. Instead Glorfindel's behavior around him was so completely non-sexual that Erestor wondered if he'd imagined any interest he'd sensed their first day together. Try as he might Erestor could perceive neither desire nor lust from his friend. He began to relax. And if somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what it was about him that left Glorfindel with absolutely no interest in bedding him, it was a voice he chose to ignore.
Erestor, on the other hand, had long hid his lack of experience, Finding 'forbidden scrolls in the back corner of the Library and hiding them behind boring texts with titles like: 'Orc Nation, a statistical analysis of population and power' or 'Structural problems of the Great Dwarrow mines'. No one raised an eyebrow at his reading habits. He supposed he ought to be grateful for his bookish reputation that it was taken for granted that 'Erestor of the Library' would devour such dry material, as his shoulder was never peeked over while he was buried into one of those volumes. Over the years Elrond had occasionally called upon his knowledge, forcing Erestor to scramble back and actually read the books, but for the most part his little deception passed unnoticed, leaving him free to pour over diagrams, gleaning nuance and learning quite a lot. In theory, at least. In practice he knew Glorfindel would see his inexperience. For reasons Erestor couldn't quite explain the idea terrified him.
*
Haldir scooped Melpomaen's wilted form into his arms and carried the youngster back to his room. He hadn't spoken since his keening wail had died in the bursts that had painted Haldir's face. His eyes were open and wide, though Haldir couldn't tell what, if anything he saw. He really was still a child. Once back in his own bed he seemed curled up, watching as Haldir rinsed his face and cleaned himself, and returned to the bed. Haldir had intended only to say good-bye, but when Melpomaen scooted back Haldir felt the same ache in his chest that had stopped him from brutalizing Mel earlier. Sighing resignedly he climbed under the sleeping furs, spooning against Melpomaen's back and burying his face in his hair. He could wait one more day.
*
"How did it start with Melpomaen?"
The question started Erestor from the fugue he had lapsed into after dinner. After a day of dining on raw vegetables Glorfindel arranged for meals to be brought to the house. Sumptuous meals: chilled summer vegetable soup garnished with rich dollops of cream, Oven roasted mushrooms from the West Forest with honey-baked figs and young cheese, wild duck roasted with sweet onion and plum; the dishes just kept coming and coming. Erestor had never eaten this well, even when he dined with Elrond. Comfortably stuffed he had leaned back into his chair, watching the dancing shadows of firelight against the walls. Glorfindel had plied him with sweet Dokai wine, wrapped him in a cozy blanket, and left him alone. He hadn't realized that Anor had set, nor even that the fire had died down until Glorfindel's question roused him. Now, comfortable and secure he had to admire Glorfindel's tactic even as he heard himself answering the question.
"It was the scrolls" he mumbled. "As I transcribed them I began to picture myself re-enacting them with Melpomaen"
"Just the scrolls, or was there another source that lead you on this path?" The question was too probing to be innocent and Erestor flushed red.
"Aye, there was another. Your diary. I think you know that" Erestor answered.
"I assumed you wanted me to know when you used information you learned in its pages to put me in a very compromising position with Elledan". Glorfindel's answer triggered another memory in Erestor.
"I hardly think you minded!"
He hadn't meant to sound so peevish, and flushed again when Glorfindel remained silent, watching him.
"Erestor, go stand in the center of the room"
"Whah...why?"
Glorfindel didn't answer, continuing instead to stare at Erestor. Erestor squirmed in his seat.
"But why do you want me to stand there?"
Erestor folded and unfolded his blanket, working a frayed end loose. It really was annoying, hanging there, ruining the symmetry of the blanket. He pulled at it experimentally and was gratified when a long thread pulled free. Much better. Glorfindel watched him silently.
"Honestly Glorfindel, you can be most frustrating".
The edge of the blanket looked worse now; there were at least five hanging threads marring the line. He tried surreptitiously pinching them off, only to lengthen the frayed edge. Why a blanket disaster had to occur while Glorfindel stared at him was yet another in a long list of laughs the Valar seemed determined to have at his expense. Erestor squirmed in his seat. Glorfindel didn't appear to be blinking.
"What? What is it you want...Fine, I'll stand there. It hardly matters to me"
He stood and walked stiffly to the center of the chamber.
"Is this what you wanted?"
Glorfindel smiled and then wordlessly left the room.
*
The apprentice healer assigned the night shift at the healing house was the first to notice Melpomaen's absence. He awoke with a guilty start from his short nap and saw the empty bed. After checking all the bunks, the bathing chambers and the kitchen he trudged to his Master's door, cringing at the tongue lashing he would undoubtedly receive, and knocked gently. By his third attempt he gave up. The elf hadn't appeared too badly off; he'd probably needed some air or returned to his own rooms. He'd get the housing list from the chatelaine in the morning and check. He much preferred being able to tell his Master where Melpomaen was if he was forced to admit he'd lost him. He smiled at his plan, for surely this solution would sidestep the worst of the reprimand. After all, this was Imladris. What harm could possibly come Melpomaen?
*
When Glorfindel returned he was carrying a large basket. Erestor was still standing where he'd left him, a waspish twist ruining the bow of his mouth.
"Really, Glorfindel! What is the purpose of this exercise? I assure you I am quite capable of standing"
Glorfindel removed candles from the basket setting them in a ring around Erestor. To the end of each one he attached a rather curious looking shade: it was one sided, the inside a mirror. Each one faced Erestor.
"Inside this circle you are safe. Nothing you say or do will be discussed outside. You control that space"
Glorfindel then lit a long branch from the fire and used it to light the candles. It took no more than a moment for Erestor to understand the purpose of the shades. Each amplified and focused the light of the candles on him. Every side of him was illuminated. The light was so bright that he had difficulty seeing past it, barely able to see Glorfindel's shadowy outline. It was as if the entire world outside his circle had disappeared.
"How do you feel" Glorfindel's voice carried through the light and Erestor squinted towards it.
"... hot?"
It wasn't the correct answer apparently, because Glorfindel didn't answer. Erestor struggled with his thoughts.
"I feel like I'm on display"
"On display?" asked Glorfindel. "As Melpomaen was on display for you?"
Well no. Melpomaen had been naked for one thing. No sooner had the thought occurred than Erestor wondered if he was supposed to take the hint and undress. He searched the shadow for Glorfindel, but couldn't see him. He pulled at the collar of his robe, trying to loosen it and allow cool air under the heavy fabric. He hadn't been lying before, it was hot.
"Am I supposed to undress?"
The question had sounded much bolder in his head. Glorfindel's silence was really starting to annoy Erestor. He pulled his collar open, allowing his robes to spill wide to his waist. He was cooler at least. He shifted from foot to foot, fiddling with the tie around his waist. Then, in a burst he made a decision; yanking the belt free he shimmied he shoulders causing all of his clothing to pool at his feet. He stood, defiantly, staring at the darkness.
And staring.
Waiting.
Tension throbbed in a vein down his forehead. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't be first to shatter this silence.
At long last Glorfindel's voice broke across him.
"How do you feel now?"
"Exposed" Erestor muttered.
"Because you are wondering what I'm looking at."
Well, no, he hadn't until Glorfindel had said /i. The voice seemed to be coming from behind him. Was Glorfindel staring at him from behind, exposed as every inch of him was to the magnified lights of a hundred candles? What was he looking for? He cleared his thoughts, seeking Glorfindel's out. His mind met only an impenetrable opaque darkness. Frustrated he pushed harder, forcing a breach into Glorfindel's mind and sensed...laughter? Somehow that was worse than not knowing. Perhaps his muscles were less defined than the warriors of Glorfindel's regiment, but his figure was just as fine. His form was sculpted of almost classic elfin beauty; elongated, taut, graceful. Thrusting his chin forward he straightened his posture, and held himself posed, above any comparisons Glorfindel might be making. This was his circle, and in it he was the most desired elf on Arda.
*
If Erestor thought that agreeing to Glorfindel's proposition meant the warrior would use his body as had used Melpomaen's, that illusion was quickly shattered. The Valar only knew how many lovers the Eldar had taken over the ages, and the legend of his physical prowess was second only to the story of slaying the Balrog. Erestor had been so worried when he learned of the binding that Glorfindel would expect, well, some physical intimacy that he'd twisted himself into knots dreading the inevitable. Instead Glorfindel's behavior around him was so completely non-sexual that Erestor wondered if he'd imagined any interest he'd sensed their first day together. Try as he might Erestor could perceive neither desire nor lust from his friend. He began to relax. And if somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what it was about him that left Glorfindel with absolutely no interest in bedding him, it was a voice he chose to ignore.
Erestor, on the other hand, had long hid his lack of experience, Finding 'forbidden scrolls in the back corner of the Library and hiding them behind boring texts with titles like: 'Orc Nation, a statistical analysis of population and power' or 'Structural problems of the Great Dwarrow mines'. No one raised an eyebrow at his reading habits. He supposed he ought to be grateful for his bookish reputation that it was taken for granted that 'Erestor of the Library' would devour such dry material, as his shoulder was never peeked over while he was buried into one of those volumes. Over the years Elrond had occasionally called upon his knowledge, forcing Erestor to scramble back and actually read the books, but for the most part his little deception passed unnoticed, leaving him free to pour over diagrams, gleaning nuance and learning quite a lot. In theory, at least. In practice he knew Glorfindel would see his inexperience. For reasons Erestor couldn't quite explain the idea terrified him.
*
Haldir scooped Melpomaen's wilted form into his arms and carried the youngster back to his room. He hadn't spoken since his keening wail had died in the bursts that had painted Haldir's face. His eyes were open and wide, though Haldir couldn't tell what, if anything he saw. He really was still a child. Once back in his own bed he seemed curled up, watching as Haldir rinsed his face and cleaned himself, and returned to the bed. Haldir had intended only to say good-bye, but when Melpomaen scooted back Haldir felt the same ache in his chest that had stopped him from brutalizing Mel earlier. Sighing resignedly he climbed under the sleeping furs, spooning against Melpomaen's back and burying his face in his hair. He could wait one more day.
*
"How did it start with Melpomaen?"
The question started Erestor from the fugue he had lapsed into after dinner. After a day of dining on raw vegetables Glorfindel arranged for meals to be brought to the house. Sumptuous meals: chilled summer vegetable soup garnished with rich dollops of cream, Oven roasted mushrooms from the West Forest with honey-baked figs and young cheese, wild duck roasted with sweet onion and plum; the dishes just kept coming and coming. Erestor had never eaten this well, even when he dined with Elrond. Comfortably stuffed he had leaned back into his chair, watching the dancing shadows of firelight against the walls. Glorfindel had plied him with sweet Dokai wine, wrapped him in a cozy blanket, and left him alone. He hadn't realized that Anor had set, nor even that the fire had died down until Glorfindel's question roused him. Now, comfortable and secure he had to admire Glorfindel's tactic even as he heard himself answering the question.
"It was the scrolls" he mumbled. "As I transcribed them I began to picture myself re-enacting them with Melpomaen"
"Just the scrolls, or was there another source that lead you on this path?" The question was too probing to be innocent and Erestor flushed red.
"Aye, there was another. Your diary. I think you know that" Erestor answered.
"I assumed you wanted me to know when you used information you learned in its pages to put me in a very compromising position with Elledan". Glorfindel's answer triggered another memory in Erestor.
"I hardly think you minded!"
He hadn't meant to sound so peevish, and flushed again when Glorfindel remained silent, watching him.
"Erestor, go stand in the center of the room"
"Whah...why?"
Glorfindel didn't answer, continuing instead to stare at Erestor. Erestor squirmed in his seat.
"But why do you want me to stand there?"
Erestor folded and unfolded his blanket, working a frayed end loose. It really was annoying, hanging there, ruining the symmetry of the blanket. He pulled at it experimentally and was gratified when a long thread pulled free. Much better. Glorfindel watched him silently.
"Honestly Glorfindel, you can be most frustrating".
The edge of the blanket looked worse now; there were at least five hanging threads marring the line. He tried surreptitiously pinching them off, only to lengthen the frayed edge. Why a blanket disaster had to occur while Glorfindel stared at him was yet another in a long list of laughs the Valar seemed determined to have at his expense. Erestor squirmed in his seat. Glorfindel didn't appear to be blinking.
"What? What is it you want...Fine, I'll stand there. It hardly matters to me"
He stood and walked stiffly to the center of the chamber.
"Is this what you wanted?"
Glorfindel smiled and then wordlessly left the room.
*
The apprentice healer assigned the night shift at the healing house was the first to notice Melpomaen's absence. He awoke with a guilty start from his short nap and saw the empty bed. After checking all the bunks, the bathing chambers and the kitchen he trudged to his Master's door, cringing at the tongue lashing he would undoubtedly receive, and knocked gently. By his third attempt he gave up. The elf hadn't appeared too badly off; he'd probably needed some air or returned to his own rooms. He'd get the housing list from the chatelaine in the morning and check. He much preferred being able to tell his Master where Melpomaen was if he was forced to admit he'd lost him. He smiled at his plan, for surely this solution would sidestep the worst of the reprimand. After all, this was Imladris. What harm could possibly come Melpomaen?
*
When Glorfindel returned he was carrying a large basket. Erestor was still standing where he'd left him, a waspish twist ruining the bow of his mouth.
"Really, Glorfindel! What is the purpose of this exercise? I assure you I am quite capable of standing"
Glorfindel removed candles from the basket setting them in a ring around Erestor. To the end of each one he attached a rather curious looking shade: it was one sided, the inside a mirror. Each one faced Erestor.
"Inside this circle you are safe. Nothing you say or do will be discussed outside. You control that space"
Glorfindel then lit a long branch from the fire and used it to light the candles. It took no more than a moment for Erestor to understand the purpose of the shades. Each amplified and focused the light of the candles on him. Every side of him was illuminated. The light was so bright that he had difficulty seeing past it, barely able to see Glorfindel's shadowy outline. It was as if the entire world outside his circle had disappeared.
"How do you feel" Glorfindel's voice carried through the light and Erestor squinted towards it.
"... hot?"
It wasn't the correct answer apparently, because Glorfindel didn't answer. Erestor struggled with his thoughts.
"I feel like I'm on display"
"On display?" asked Glorfindel. "As Melpomaen was on display for you?"
Well no. Melpomaen had been naked for one thing. No sooner had the thought occurred than Erestor wondered if he was supposed to take the hint and undress. He searched the shadow for Glorfindel, but couldn't see him. He pulled at the collar of his robe, trying to loosen it and allow cool air under the heavy fabric. He hadn't been lying before, it was hot.
"Am I supposed to undress?"
The question had sounded much bolder in his head. Glorfindel's silence was really starting to annoy Erestor. He pulled his collar open, allowing his robes to spill wide to his waist. He was cooler at least. He shifted from foot to foot, fiddling with the tie around his waist. Then, in a burst he made a decision; yanking the belt free he shimmied he shoulders causing all of his clothing to pool at his feet. He stood, defiantly, staring at the darkness.
And staring.
Waiting.
Tension throbbed in a vein down his forehead. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't be first to shatter this silence.
At long last Glorfindel's voice broke across him.
"How do you feel now?"
"Exposed" Erestor muttered.
"Because you are wondering what I'm looking at."
Well, no, he hadn't until Glorfindel had said /i. The voice seemed to be coming from behind him. Was Glorfindel staring at him from behind, exposed as every inch of him was to the magnified lights of a hundred candles? What was he looking for? He cleared his thoughts, seeking Glorfindel's out. His mind met only an impenetrable opaque darkness. Frustrated he pushed harder, forcing a breach into Glorfindel's mind and sensed...laughter? Somehow that was worse than not knowing. Perhaps his muscles were less defined than the warriors of Glorfindel's regiment, but his figure was just as fine. His form was sculpted of almost classic elfin beauty; elongated, taut, graceful. Thrusting his chin forward he straightened his posture, and held himself posed, above any comparisons Glorfindel might be making. This was his circle, and in it he was the most desired elf on Arda.
*