Holy wow it's been a fair bit but here I am again :D It may be short but sometimes I get these spurts of nothing at all so I'm going to try to do a mini-update to slog through some of the boring stuff to get back into the blood and guts of the plot. Business first:

Rhelena: Thank you! I just hope it's not getting too...weird ()_() I was really hoping for somethin' fluffy and light but...I suppose these two are just NOT allowed to have too much fluffy and light ()_()

Dragonrider125: BLAM here ya go

Ana Auron: ^_^ Double here ya go

Estry: Very slowly

Danira: ^_^ Thank you, it definitely started as a one shot but then it started to invade my head and it turned into an all out KABLAM with a plot line and a story line and angst and Balrogs...I desperately hope to get back to the fluffy stuff soon...this one took on its own life ()_()

aka Lizinsky: I think it has potential as well but thank you for saying so:) I definitely think that there may have to be offshoots of this one...but we'll see...()_()

ENJOY

I have always been a very different elf. Very set apart, not cold and aloof, not cruel and closed off...just...different. While I don't value being alone as much as people seem to think I do I tolerate it because I suppose being alone, is better then being...I'm not sure.

I'd say made fun of, or perhaps made a fool of...but they do that already so I'm not certain where I would go with that.

None the less, I don't hate my life for my half enforced solitude, I in fact, find it MOST enjoyable. Because to be alone is very enlightening.

I see things others don't see, I feel things others don't feel. I am left to my own devices, my own thoughts, and my own meanderings far more then anyone else-and it is probably because of that that I find appreciation in things that others don't stop to appreciate. It does have severely negative draw backs though-not just the label of the cold, aloof, calculating librarian wannabe Councillor but the things I appreciate can never be shared.

I am DEFINITELY not always as boring and austere as people think I am -I think if any of the Marchwarden's found out some of my inner thoughts they would be shocked to the edge of Mordor and back a thousand times over.

Lately though I've been feeling it more and more and more and more, that feeling of being not quite enough. I mean in some small possibly arrogant way I've always felt more superior to the other elves around me. As an elfling I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to do AND I knew how to do it. I dreamed of becoming a scholar, and as a young student I dreamed of becoming a scribe, as a scribe I dreamed of becoming a librarian-nothing has stood in my way thus far, and when Silinde started taking me to meetings I knew that it was bound to happen. But that feeling...that damned feeling haunted me in everything.

It was my dreams that were the hardest to endure, I dreamt of things I had only ever written of before, warm, strong hands, sun kissed flesh, blonde hair, warm lips sucking the life from me in the most distinctive of ways. I would wake drenched in sweat, lost in paroxysms of pleasure that seemed to have created themselves, I love sex. Probably more then Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin -combined- so why did it bother me so much to have these dreams? Because...well, they were very different.

Which was only compounded by the strangest visitor to my library in all the years I've mastered it...

"Erestor" her voice was like silk, flowing across the room to colour and shape the air around her.

"My lady" the Noldo leapt immediately to his feet, eyes wide with shock and awe at having her here, in his library.

"Prepare yourself, penneth nin. It is time." She said quietly, a soft, knowing smile in her eyes.

"Time for what?" he asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly

"For changes both great and small...your knowledge is endless Erestor but you must survive the flames of destruction before you can be TRULY kissed by the golden sun" she said mysteriously, and he felt his brows draw together.

"You are different, Erestor and so is he...you must know what he has known the same as he is coming to know what you know" she said, and then his eyes flew wide opened, and soft magenta coloured his neck and face, up his pale ears. She knew.

"I will not let you perish. But you and he must burn together, as you already do" and with that the beautiful golden lady slipped out the doors and disappeared, without so much as another word.

The dreams, being kissed by the Golden sun...I closed my eyes in memory of the dreams, they were infrequent at first, brought on I thought by indulging in too much imagery laced poetry. But after a while they started to come every night. And they always started in the same way.

Walking down a hallway, showing something to someone (it was completely irrelevant and always served as nothing but an irritation) when I felt eyes on me, I'd look up, discretely trying to see but I never did. Wherever I was I was expected but not...known, if that makes sense. As if I was supposed to be there but no one was sure why.

I'd feel the eyes leave and then I would leave, returning to my work-usually something I was translating which again, was a useless annoying detail that got in the way and prevented me from going to where I wanted to go.

My body would ache and ache, my dream self seemed to think it was from the position above the desk, but my mind self KNEW it was an unrelenting, unrepentant throbbing that made me ache so. My dream self would stretch and for half a second AGAIN I knew I was being watched, but it didn't matter.

Then I would go to eat...and then I'd meet him, those around me, those that were talking or sitting or doing whatever the flames of Mordor thought was good for them to do. I remember feeling as I always do out of place, off to the side, set aside, not sure what to do or what to say because whatever I want to say is not what they expect of me, and will only garner me a terrible reputation, so I stay silent. And then. Then. He appears.

Tall, broad, muscular, perfect in every way, his long golden hair plaited hap-hazardly down his back most of it spilling out free and loose. He is dressed as a warrior with tight tunic and tight leggings, showing off EVERY thing the Valar has given him.

He smiles as he sees me, and someone introduces me, I nod my head, and can't quite meet his eyes-he is far too tall. I cannot look much into his eyes but I can smell him, musk and sweat and cranberries, yes, cranberries...or juniper berries? He always greets me in the same way "Councilor! You're the talk of the hour! Call me Glorfindel, I don't hold much to formal titles" and I reply in the same way "Well then You shall have to call me Erestor, for equality." he repeats my name and his eyes tell me nothing, there is a flash there, but nothing else and for once. For ONCE. I feel as if I have been recognized, as if he sees something in me that no one else does...though it is gone in a second and he turns his mind back to those around him but it was there...

There is something about him too, that easy going manner, his booming voice and gentle comraderie, something that I deeply admire and recognize, and I use my hair as a shield while I watch him relentlessly, thinking shamelessly of how I wish I could see his eyes unguarded, see him with a much more lurid smile on his face, his eyes closed, head pressed back to the pillows...I knew that if only he DID see me, for more then just another icy cold councillor then maybe...maybe I'd have a chance.

And dear Elebreth there was something about HIM. Something that took my soul and my breath...but as the night wore on and I was forced to go somewhere with a LOT of people, where I felt alone, again, as always. I spoke of literature and history, of politics and diplomacy, languages and music-all subjects I knew a great deal about, but I was not asked of myself. I was not made into an important subject, I was hardly made into anything at all, once again cast into a place reserved for the people that no one bothers to understand.

There was something though in me...something...was I being watched again? It was irritating and then I saw him, his blue eyes, riveted on my face, I don't think he saw me looking but I watched him out of the corner of my eyes and saw him get up and storm out, angry. But I had seen it. I was almost positive.

It coursed through me hot and ready and I could hardly repress a moan, it took me 20 minutes to extricate myself politely from the company I was sitting with. I trailed around the house, sniffing deeply, he was the only male I'd EVER met to smell like Juniper berries and it wasn't hard to find where he slept.

I paused outside his door and moved to knock, but I bit down on my bottom lip and hesitated, I took a deep breath and turned the knob, it opened silently underneath my hand and I slipped in, turned my back on him and closed and locked the door.

I turned slowly as I heard him get up, I reared my chin as I saw him and he saw me, blue and brown and electricity shot through me EVERY time. He opened his mouth and recognition flashed over his entire body and I took the opportunity, I vaulted myself forward and launched my arms around his neck careening up I took his lips, hard. I pushed my tongue in his mouth tasting everything he gave to me.

For a moment I thought that I was alone in my dance...again that he hadn't seen me, hadn't recognized it, hadn't shared it, but I clung to his head, to his warm flesh and liquid golden hair, and kissed him for all I was worth.

Rewarded at last, I always felt the pure relief running through me as his hands threaded into my hair clinging me close needing me, wanting me. He yanked my body hard against his and I kissed him until I felt real, until I felt like an elf again.

The dream would go on, sometimes he would throw me to the ground and fuck me until I bled while I screamed for him to do it, sometimes he laid me on the couch and kissed me until I couldn't breathe, then he would hold me in front of the fire trading kisses for stories, or poems. Sometimes (and these were my favourites) he would lead me to his bedroom and we would make love in the silvery moonlight all night long, alternating fast and slow, long and short...I think that in some way I began to love him. No. No. I DID. I did love him, with everything in me...this dream figure.

It was the day that Galadriel came to me in the library that the dream changed...that my life began to change, drastically, and if I had known then the truth-I never would have done what I was about to do, ever...but it had to change, and I wouldn't go back and fix it...because now...now he appears.