By Orchyd Constyne
Erestor watched Elrond's eyes return to their stormy grey, showing him that
the mental conversation the Elf-lord had been engaging in was over.
His friend turned a sad smile to the Councilor. "Thranduil will arrive
within the week. Please ready his room."
Erestor looked at his friend with an odd expression. Ready a room
for his Lord's lover? That made little sense to Erestor. "Meldir, Thranduil
has not used 'his room' in centuries beyond counting. He shares your
Leaving the balcony, Elrond sighed. "Not this time."
Erestor then realized what must have just happened. The Noldo was
old enough to know what this meant. The members of the Company had been
decided, and his long-time friend was going to send his lover's son. His
heart ached for what Elrond was about to go through. But, since his
counsel had not been requested, he was not about to offer it. He simply
nodded. "I will go have the room aired out now and locate his favorite
The Councilor did not bother to summon servants to prepare the King's room;
he was perfectly capable of taking care of it himself. In truth, there
was really nothing to do but make up the bed. Erestor had the room aired
out once a week, and Thranduil's preferred bedclothes were folded at the
foot of the large four-poster bed. No sense in making things difficult,
Erestor was unfolding the sheet when he was enveloped from behind by two
strong and very welcome arms. "I thought I heard you in here," Glorfindel
purred in his ear.
"I was being quiet," Erestor replied, settling back against his lover's
Glorfindel smirked. "I know. The silent sound of efficiency
Erestor hit Glorfindel playfully on the arm. "Make yourself useful.
Help me make the bed."
The Seneschal kissed Erestor on the neck, making the Noldo shiver, before
releasing him and walking to the other side of the bed and taking the other
corner of the sheet. They worked in silence for a few moments, then
Glorfindel looked around, seeming to truly *see* the room for the first time.
"Don't we usually reserve this room for Thranduil?"
"Yes," Erestor replied simply.
"We're not putting anyone else in here, are we?"
"And Thranduil isn't going to be staying with Elrond?"
Erestor hesitated, briefly, then decided to be honest. "Legolas."
The Elda's eyes widened. "He's sending *Legolas* on this insanity?!"
"That's how it appears."
"Son of an Orc," Glorfindel swore. "I'll go talk to him."
"I don't think it will do any good, meleth. Just help me finish this."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Glorfindel screamed in a sudden fit of anger.
"Damn you, don't you see what he's doing?!"
Erestor actually backed away a step, suddenly afraid of his love, despite
the bed that separated them. The motion caused Glorfindel to rethink
himself. The Seneschal clenched his eyes shut for a moment and shook
his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little on edge."
"I understand. The One Ring -- here in Imladris. It's enough
to make anyone jumpy. Especially you."
"I... think I'll just go lie down," Glorfindel mumbled with a fair amount
of shame and embarrassment flooding his voice. He left the room as silently
as he arrived, leaving a stunned Erestor to finish up Thranduil's bed.
The week had passed with relative peace, with Glorfindel avoiding Elrond
as much as he could.
The Seneschal rode at the head of the small guard doing the morning rounds
checking the Imladris border. Once they had done the sweep and began
the ride back to the house, Glorfindel let his mind wander over the past decade.
He felt out of place, he felt as if something had shifted in him and it
frightened him. He had a rage he never thought he could have.
The Elda would find himself seething, wishing to strike someone, saying
things he would never had said in his previous years. Glorfindel would
find himself hurting those he loved the most.
Those like Erestor. The dark-eyed love was the center of most of
Glorfindel's outbursts. He had yet to strike or truly harm his lover,
but he had come too close for the blond Elf's comfort. He was afraid
he would seriously harm someone. And from his previous tantrums, it
looked like the most likely Elf that would be forced to endure that final
madness would be Erestor.
They had been together for several centuries, and Glorfindel had originally
attributed his short temper to the monogamy. He had never held such
an exclusive relationship before. Erestor had even mentioned officially
bonding to one another, but Glorfindel refused -- not while he felt so out
of control. He wanted Erestor to always have a way out, a way away from
him and his insanity.
That was what it felt like: a slow descent into dementia. For the
most part, he was balanced and in control. But, there were other times
when he would lost all grip on himself and he would irrationally lash out.
He would suddenly feel as if he were drowning in jealousy or in paranoia,
the two main emotions that triggered the violence in him when it came to Erestor.
Glorfindel's attentions were brought from his internal struggle by the
eldest Peredhel twin, who was trying to get him to converse.
"Thranduil will arrive tonight?" The question was innocent enough.
Just being reminded of the Mirkwood Elf brought home the betrayal he felt
by Elrond in the Lord choosing his lover's son. That storm that had
been dormant in him the past week awoke with a new fury. The only being
close to him at that moment, though, was the Half-Elf he had always seen as
the son he could never have. With a phenomenal effort, Glorfindel reined
in his irrational anger and was able to respond with a clipped, "So we were
"Is there something on your mind?"
Through clenched teeth: "No. Nothing."
Blessedly, Elladan realized that Glorfindel was in a less-than-pleasant
mood and wished not to be disturbed. He did not even speak to let the
Balrog-slayer know that he'd heard Thranduil approaching; instead, he used
the gesturing "language" that he and Elrohir had developed while on the trail
of roving packs of Orcs. Elrond had been so impressed by it that he'd
ordered all border patrols to learn it, starting with his Seneschal.
Glorfindel gave the "acknowledged" signal with a huff and moved to take
up an escort position for Thranduil. He did not speak on the journey
back to the stables, merely bolstered his reserves against the confrontation
that he could feel approaching.
The conversation with Thranduil went better than he expected, which is
to say, no one was killed in an insane fit of anger. After the Elven
King met with Elrond, he had pretty much kept to himself these past two weeks,
which suited Glorfindel just fine. The Seneschal tried to go about his
daily business as smoothly as possible, but he was now constantly battling
his desire to just jump up and strangle someone.
Erestor was his safe haven, though. Elrond's Councilor accepted him
unconditionally, never judging him or pressing him for answers that Glorfindel
just didn't have. No matter how trying a day he had, the Elda could
always melt into Erestor's arms and let the dark-haired beauty take it all
More than once, the consolation gave way to gentle lovemaking, much as
it had done this night. After talking Glorfindel down from his most
recent bout of ... whatever it was he was going through, the Noldo was running
his fingers through the blond's hair when Glorfindel sat up and kissed him
in thanks. The kiss had deepened, hands began to roam, and all thoughts
of the outside world were forgotten.
At the end of a blur of fondling and kissing, Erestor sat on the bed naked,
bent onto his hands and knees while Glorfindel slowly made love to him from
behind. The Elda's hands were cool against his skin as they held him,
and Erestor's head drooped, his breathing punctuated by soft moans and delicate
Glorfindel massaged Erestor's ass as he slid his shaft in and out of the
tight opening. He was patting the Noldo's behind when his balance shifted,
and his hand came down a little rougher than he'd intended. When Erestor moaned,
though, Glorfindel experimentally gave the other cheek a slight smack.
The Councilor gave another moan of pleasure, and Glorfindel continued, randomly
spanking Erestor's ass every two or three thrusts. The feeling sent
shivers through his cock because Erestor would tense up with each smack, tightening
the muscle around Glorfindel's rod.
The intensity of the spanks grew, and soon Erestor's rear was being pummelled
with loud, powerful strikes that made his skin tingle and sting. The
sensations had been pleasurable at first, but now his ass was beginning to
ache from the punishment. He had trouble drawing in enough breath to
speak or even cry out, though; the continual onslaught was certainly taking
its toll, but Glorfindel felt so good inside him that he was torn between
the pleasure and the pain. Erestor didn't find his voice again until a particularly
strong blow went awry and struck his hipbone, sending a jarring pain through
his whole body.
"Ouch! That one hurt!" he cried out.
Glorfindel did not respond, did not even seem to hear.
He tried again. "Please stop that, meleth; it's really starting to
"Glorfindel, I'm not joking, you're hurting me!"
Erestor felt the Elda's hands on his back and breathed a sigh of relief.
The moment was short-lived, though, when he felt his head jerked up and back.
Glorfindel had taken hold of Erestor's long, dark hair and pulled with the
force of reining in a steed. Erestor's throat strained to take in air against
the pressure, and his eyes filled with tears. Almost immediately, Erestor
felt Glorfindel's cock throb inside him and the heat of his orgasm spilling
forth and filling him. He choked back a sob, his sight began to blur
from the pain and lack of breath, and his neck muscles screamed in protest
at being bent the wrong way.
When Glorfindel's release had finally subsided, Erestor's head snapped
back against the bed as the Elda relinquished his grip with a start. "By
the Valar," Erestor heard him whisper, "what did I do?"
Glorfindel looked down at the mottled mass of redness and rapidly forming
bruises that criss-crossed Erestor's behind. He covered his mouth with
a hand to muffle his cry of shock. "I'm sorry, melethron!" he suddenly
exclaimed, pulling out roughly and backing away from the bed in horror.
"I'm so very sorry!"
Erestor rolled onto his side, gingerly, as his buttocks were now in great
pain, and held out his hand to his lover. "Shh, shh, Glorfindel," he
said in the most comforting voice he could manage. "It's okay. We've
never done this before. It was very nice; it just started to hurt after
"No, no," Glorfindel said, sobbing as he fell back against the wall and
slid down to the floor. "You don't understand, I wanted to *hurt* someone.
I wanted to hurt *you*!"
Erestor got out of the bed and knelt beside the Elda, wrapping his arms
around Glorfindel and cradling him to his chest. "I don't know what's
happening, a'maelamin, but we'll get through it together, I swear."
Erestor was busy in his small office when Elladan came into the room. The
Peredhel must have just returned from his extended patrol; he was still in
riding leathers and was road-weary. But more than that, he looked meek,
which was odd for the eldest twin. Erestor stopped writing his letter
to Lord Celeborn and stood up. "Is something wrong, Elladan?"
Elladan was always amazed at the cool, even tones of his old tutor's melodic
voice. The dark eyes always spoke of wisdom, age and cold, calculating
precision. Erestor made chills go down his spine, so different from
Glorfindel. "Can I speak with you frankly, Erestor?"
Erestor's expression softened slightly when he realized how anxious Elladan
was. "Of course, pen-neth."
"I think something is wrong with Glorfindel."
Erestor sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He had hoped
to keep this change in attitude to just himself and his lover. "How
do you mean?"
Elladan chewed the inside of his cheek a moment, trying to find the right
words. "These past weeks, he's become edgy. He snaps at Elrohir
and I over the smallest things. He nearly brought Elrohir to tears last
week during one of the training sessions. He seems... darker, angry all the
time." Shining silver-grey eyes met his ink black ones and Erestor
knew how upset Elladan was. "And then, on the patrol... I just
gave my report to Ada, but I didn't tell him everything. I wanted to
talk to you first. Erestor, I found myself becoming *afraid* of him."
"I know," the Councilor said simply, sighing deeply. Elladan opened
his mouth, but Erestor held up a hand to silence him. "This is something
that Glorfindel is having to work through. We don't know what is happening,
but it is possible that it is the Ring's closeness to him."
"Because of the Balrog," Elladan said quietly. "Because of his death."
"Yes. As you can imagine, it is quite a painful subject for him,
so I would appreciate it if you not speak to anyone else -- especially Glorfindel
-- about his troubles or this conversation."
Elladan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It wasn't like the Noldo
to be so detached when speaking to the twins, his pupils. "You're worried
about him, aren't you?"
For a moment, the strong front that Erestor was putting up crumbled, and
Elladan saw the hurt and fear just behind the Councilor's eyes. "Desperately,"
The elder Peredhel walked to Erestor and clasped him firmly by the shoulders.
"He's strong. Whatever it is, he'll overcome."
Continued in Part Two
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