Queer as Elves

Title: Queer as Elves
Author: Eawen Penallion
email: cross_stitcherire@yahoo.com
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/eawen_penallion/
Type: FPSlash, sort-of-crossover
Pairing: Erestor/Rumil
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, silliness!
Beta: Nienna, beta reader extraordinaire!
Disclaimer: all rights to the LOTR characters belong to JRR. Tolkien – I’m only playing with them. All rights to the characters and stories of QAF belong to Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman, and Showtime.
Timeline: Third Age
Feedback: Yes please,
Archive: OEAM, AFF, LJ, anywhere else, please ask

Summary: Erestor is a sexual predator - no excuses, no promises, no regrets - until under the soft glare of a flaring torch he meets a very tenacious young blond ellon…

Author's note: This is combination of two of my obsessions - my long-standing love of LOTR and my more recent exposure to Showtime's 'Queer as Folk'. This little story utilises the QAF plot of episode 1, series 1, but set in the LOTR universe. Still, I have tried to twist it so that it doesn't disrupt the LOTR logic too much. This is dedicated to Sian, Fimbrethiel, Chloe Amethyst and Fishy, who inspired me to watch QAF and become a B/J shipper!


Imladris, Early Third Age:


The room throbbed with the rhythmic beat of the playing band, a beat that was echoed by the swaying and writhing of both elven and human bodies. The atmosphere was rife with energy, throbbing with promise of many pleasures both subtle and overt. To the beat of tambour and lilt of harp and deep pipes the ellyn and men held close to their partners, either in couples or groups, as others imbibed of their favourite alcoholic beverages. This was their haven, their refuge within the elven realm of Imladris for here played those who had embraced the duality of their sexual nature in a world where humans frowned upon such activities and the present politics of the realm's Lord were dictated by the whims of his Lady. Thus they retreated to the Woodman's Inn, set amongst the deep firs of the lower reaches of the ravine wherein they found succour - and sucking and fucking - in this adjoining tavern called 'Melethron'. Here they found the liberty to express their needs and wants and lusts - male to male, female to female. They searched for their next lover, prowling like a pride of those legendary lions of the far southern lands - raw, predatory, dangerous. And like that pride, they had a leader, a king who ruled them by supreme example.

"Orc's breath! Where *is* he?"

Lindir sniggered at Glorfindel's expletive.

"Where on Arda do you expect him to be?" he laughed and nodded to the innocuous door in the corner - held ajar by an old barrel, it belied the purpose to which the inner room was used. "He said he would be back in ten inches."

Glorfindel huffed, his annoyance clear upon his handsome face.

"Well, I have early patrol in the morning. I am tired and hungry, and I want to eat *my* meat off a *plate* this night!"

Saelbeth sipped his drink slowly, setting a deadpan expression upon his face before commenting.

"Somehow I do not think that Erestor is the one eating the meat. Not his style."

Lindir giggled again. "No, for in this matter our esteemed councillor judges that it is better to give than to receive."

"Aye, so generous is he with his favours."

"But never more than once."

Glorfindel glowered at the teasing repartee and glanced at the dark portal once more.

"So why is he delayed then?" he grumbled. "He has already had most of the males here."

Lindir grinned once more at the Elda's petulant face. It was common knowledge that he had never been the recipient of Erestor's attentions. 'Never mate with your mellyn' was a cornerstone of the dark councillor's creed. Glorfindel was his closest friend - and therefore off limits. It did not stop the golden lord from yearning though.

Saelbeth was speaking once more. "Newly-arrived cohort from Lothlórien," he was explaining. "Fresh meat, so to speak."

Glorfindel glared at the secretary then turned back to the bar to lift and drain his tankard.

"Still, I wish that he would hurry up," he grumbled.

****

The young elf trembled as he approached the torch-lit building, shivering in anticipation as he lingered in the shade of the surrounding trees. Seeing the constant trickle of customers in and out of the side door of the Woodman's Inn, Rúmil knew that this was the place that Dinendal had described to him before he left home.

" 'Tis a place for those like us, pen neth. For those of us who long for muscular arms and penetrating strength rather than soft breasts and an uninviting dampness in the core of our lovers." The Galadhel had looked sharply at his young friend when offering this information, wondering if had been doing the right thing in instructing the brother of his Commander. Haldir would *not* be happy if he knew the way his youngest brother leaned in his sexuality. Haldir was most traditional in his thinking, had wed young to a submissive female and already had two sons.

Rúmil had taken his friend's advice to heart and when his brother and guardian had insisted upon his taking this opportunity to further his education, Rúmil had ensured that his false protests against the order had looked real. Rúmil knew that Haldir would never have allowed him to come to Imladris if he had shown any enthusiasm at all. As it was, the Marchwarden had insisted on accompanying him and had utilised the journey to deliver strict instructions as to his behaviour during this ten-year tenure in the libraries of Rivendell.

"Lord Celeborn is sponsoring you personally, Rúmil, for he has great hopes for you. I too agree with this move for I have noticed that you have come under - unsettling - influences since your majority six months ago. It will be good for you to leave them behind." Haldir had paused before giving his final admonition. "You are the son of a noble and the brother of the Marchwarden of Lothlórien. You have a responsibility to your House to fulfil your duties and to pass on your proud heritage to your future children. Remember to act according to your upbringing."

Now Rúmil glanced back at the Last Homely House, perched proudly upon a high ledge of the ravine. His bed in his room that was next to Haldir's was neatly piled with carefully shaped pillows and draped in a duplicitous blanket. Such subterfuge was needed to gain his freedom, though the ivy clinging to his balcony had helped in his escape. His lips twitched in a devious smirk. Haldir was going to be *so* disappointed in his high expectations of him. Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, Rúmil sauntered out of the shade into the flickering light cast by the high-placed torches.

****

"Well - are we leaving?"

The deep voice slid languorously over their ears, a drawl that always spoke of lust and erotic pleasures unlimited. Glorfindel felt his heart speed a little as he sensed the proximity of his long-time friend. Turning quickly he scowled at the elf, annoyed that his emotions showed so freely.

Erestor was stunning, as usual. His dark hair lay easily across the toned shoulders, flickering with auburn highlights picked out by the illuminating candlelight. The penetrating eyes were a deep brown in this light, belying their normal colour of hazel touched with green, an exciting amalgamation that swung from one shade to another with his varying moods. The mouth was finely carved and curved into his habitual smirk - half welcoming, half mocking but always beckoning to be kissed. The cocky smile spoke of the assumption that this was an ellon who normally got what - or whom - he wanted, no questions asked. The rich ensemble of softly-draped red silk tunic and tight black leggings clung to the well-honed body, drawing admiring glances that he ignored, for Erestor accepted them as his due. Elrond Peredhel may have been the Lord of Imladris but in *this* corner of the realm, Erestor was King.

"That didn't take long," Lindir noted, straightening up to greet the elf. Erestor shrugged.

"His mouth promised more than it could deliver. I got bored."

"Bored," sighed Saelbeth, almost wistfully. It had been a long time since anyone had clamoured for his attentions. Then again, this was Erestor they were talking about. "Would that we all were so lucky."

Lindir flung his arm about Saelbeth's shoulders in sympathy. "I suppose that when one gets as old as Erestor, the memories set in and unfavourable comparisons are made - unlike us young, fresh things."

He looked directly at Erestor, fluttering his lashes in mock innocence. Erestor narrowed his eyes but made no reply. He was an elf, for Arda's sake. Age mattered not to the Firstborn, yet still he was touchy with regard to it. That he was an elf of the early Second Age was on record but as to the rest of his history - well, that was known to only a few.

Their exit was swift, enabled by the uncanny parting of the crowd to allow them to pass. Glorfindel wondered at the sheer force of presence that was the councillor, for it was he who led the way. Once outside, the golden lord yawned.

"Ai, I am tired. Let's go to the kitchens and get the food, eh Erestor?"

He looked at his friend but the dark elf did not answer. Instead he stared into the trees, his attention captured by something not yet visible to Glorfindel. He turned his head to see what Erestor was observing.

From the gloom and smoke given off by the burning torches emerged a slight figure, his slouching stroll evidence of the youth of the elf. The boy was lithe and lean in pale green garb; his pale silk-blonde hair glowed in the torchlight as bright as the sun. He was as a spirit of beauty born from the forest. Leaning casually against the tall pole that supported the burning brand, he looked towards the emerging elves, his gaze never wavering.

Glorfindel glanced back at Erestor, startled to see that his friend was walking towards the youth without a word to his puzzled companions.

Rúmil looked at the elf who stood in front of him, gazing up into those expressive eyes. His breath caught at the beauty of the ellon who smiled gently at him, and his heart faltered as the moist lips rolled back into the enticing mouth for a moment before he began to speak.

"Suilad."

"M-mae govannen," Rúmil stuttered politely, trying desperately to control his voice. He lifted his head defiantly, determined that he would not behave like the nervous elfling he felt himself to be at this moment. He felt as if the edhel towered over him though he was but a few inches taller, so magnetic was his aura.

"So," the ellon continued softly. "How fare you this night? Where do you go?"

Rúmil shrugged nonchalantly. "Nowhere special."

The ellon nodded then leaned forward, his lips pursed as he whispered the next words. The breathy exhalation shot straight to Rúmil's shaft, stiffening what had already hardened with the mere presence of this manifestation of perfection.

"I can change that."

Rúmil looked up wonderingly into the hazel eyes again, and realised in that moment that his life would never be the same again.

****

The door was flung wide open to reveal a large and elegant chamber, sparsely yet expensively furnished. The dark-haired ellon strode in, revealing his dominion of his lair, and Rúmil could only follow. Erestor began to divest himself of his clothes, casually draping them over a nearby chair before turning naked to face the stunned youth, stretching his arms wide in query.

"Well," the mellow voice purred. "Are you coming in?"

As if in a trance Rúmil tore off his tunic, thrusting it aside as he walked into the strong embrace. Lips crashed down upon his and a questing tongue immediately demanded entrance into his hot mouth. Without a demur the young elf relinquished all control and melted into the kiss, the arms, and the naked body of Erestor. Within a short space of time the remaining offending garb was gone and the bewildered yet excited youth lay upon the large bed in the adjoining room, being stroked gently but firmly by the older elf.

"So how does this feel for you? Is it good, pen neth? Does it excite you?"

"Y-yessss!"

Rúmil groaned and bucked at the constant attention being paid to his member. Erestor chuckled for it was obvious that this delectable morsel was at the very least inexperienced if not a virgin. Not his usual type but for some reason he had been entranced at the first sight of the boy. It would be a novel entertainment to instruct the youth, and he shivered slightly at the prospect. The thought of any other touching the untouched flesh, of any other male trying at the untried entrance filled him with a disturbing anger. The beautiful boy with the sunshine hair was *his* - at least for tonight.

His distraction, compounded by a sudden banging at the chamber door, caused Erestor to turn his attention away from the boy though his hand still moved upon the purple shaft.

"Lord Erestor!" The voice carried through the outer door into the bedroom, urgent in its tone.

"What in Arda do you want at this time of night?" the dark elf cried angrily, ignoring the frantic gasps and shifting body underneath him.

"I come from the Halls of Healing, my lord, with word that Síredol is about to give birth. Lady Celebrían attends upon her."

Erestor glowered. 'She would,' he muttered to himself. Aloud he cried out, "I will come!"

"Aargh!"

"Valar!" Erestor looked at the white cream that had splattered over his hand, the boy, and his crisp blue sheets. "Ah," he said, somewhat annoyed, "you already have."

The boy blushed, total in his embarrassment.

"I-I am so sorry," he stuttered, his eyes wide with apprehension. Erestor very nearly smiled for the look upon the young elf's face was almost endearing…

Elbereth! He shook his head briskly. He *was* getting sentimental for once in his long life - and that just would not do. Rolling off the lithe body and off the bed, he pulled his mask firmly into place, kicking into action the persona he had perfected over thousands of years. His hard-nosed, hard-cock, free-living, unremorseful, uncaring, unfeeling -

"Get up and get out. You have to go."

"W-what?"

The shock and pain in the young voice was unmistakable but Erestor did not react. He turned from the boy, picking up his own leggings and shirt, pulling them on quickly.

"You have to go," he repeated, a little more kindly. "I am busy, so go home to bed, little boy."

"I-I can't! My brother, he thinks I am abed already… He - he must not know!"

Erestor raised an eyebrow. Just how old was this boy? He voiced his question.

"How old are you, child?"

The blue eyes flashed in irritation, revealing an inner stubbornness and strength. "I am no child! I am - one hundred and fifty!"

The brown eyebrow rose further.

"A-a hundred!"

A slight smirk appeared on the lips of the dark elf as he took a step around the four-poster bed, peering at the youth in query. Rúmil knelt naked upon the dark coverlet, the contrast with his pale skin causing Erestor to draw his tongue slowly over his open lips. The blond elf flushed under the sceptical stare and Erestor noted with pleasure just how far the flush travelled down the pale flesh.

"E-eighty…" the voice began to tremble under Erestor's relentless scrutiny.

"Seventy…?"

Erestor laughed in amusement, pausing in his slow stroll.

"What is this - an exercise in regressive mathematics?"

Rúmil dropped his chin in defeat, fighting hard to deny the moisture that pricked at his eyes. No, he would *not* weep like some silly brattish elfling. Gathering his fortitude, he looked at Erestor in defiance.

"I attained my majority on my last begetting day. I am no child!"

The strength and pride of the boy struck a chord deep within the councillor, for it spoke of maturity that his youthful looks belied. In the flickering candlelight the sheer beauty of the youth shone brightly. With a sharp acknowledging nod of the head, Erestor held out his hand to Rúmil.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you coming? Or going? Or coming and staying?"

Rúmil stood still in momentary stupefaction then broke into a blazing smile.

"I am coming!" he cried. 'And I want to stay', he added silently to himself, somehow knowing that the words should not be spoken. He wanted this dark elf with a passion he knew would not be appreciated - yet.

Erestor had broken into an answering grin. "You *will* be, before the night is over!" he laughed, throwing the boy's clothes at him. "Now hurry, pen neth - a very special event awaits us."

****

Out of breath and still laughing, Erestor and Rúmil tumbled through the doors of the Healing Hall to be greeted by a ferocious glare from a formidable female. Rúmil stumbled to a startled halt for the elleth bore a striking resemblance to one he knew well - Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien. Beside her was one of the companions of Erestor, the golden warrior who had looked at him with such disdain - Rúmil recognised him from their encounter outside the tavern. He still did not seem pleased to see him, for sapphire eyes lighted upon him and Rúmil was shocked to see the naked hatred and jealousy within them. A sharp exhalation from the elleth drew his attention away from the towering elf.

"*Finally*! I wondered if you would show your face, you promiscuous laggard. Well, though for the life of me I do not understand why, she has been asking for you." The elleth's angry tone mellowed slightly. "Síredol has been delivered of a boy child this night," she finished softly.

Rúmil looked enquiringly at Erestor and saw an apprehensive but happy smile upon the ellon's face. Could it be… surely this was not Erestor's child? Silently he followed the dark elf, slipping determinedly past the golden-haired ellon who would have denied him entrance. The warrior turned and addressed his grievance to Erestor.

"'Res, why did you have to bring *him*?" he said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a whine. Erestor shrugged.

"He had nowhere else to go, Fin. Besides," he leered lasciviously at the boy, "we have unfinished business tonight." The councillor reached out his arm and wrapped it around the youth's neck, drawing him close so that he could plant a firm kiss upon the pale pink lips. Rúmil moaned into the kiss as Erestor's tongue pried the lips apart to seek entrance to his mouth. Feeling the boy's unspoken and complete surrender, Erestor broke the kiss gently then leaned his forehead against Rúmil's. "Do we not, Glawaren?"

The affectionate moniker took him by surprise but Rúmil felt a warm glow sweep through him at this special name. In that moment he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be with this ellon forever. He almost forgot to respond, but simply grinned his pleasure.

"Erestor?"

The gentle call of an elleth and the plaintive wail of a newborn baby drew Erestor's attention away from him and to the inner room. A few strides brought the dark elf to the bedside and the very domestic scene there.

" Síredol?"

The brown-haired elleth raised her eyes to Erestor and Rúmil saw a deep love in her eyes for the elf, a love that was obviously reciprocated. The young ellon felt a fearful tightness clench at his heart when he saw the tender emotions cross the councillor's face. The elleth - Síredol - smiled and lifted the child to the bemused advisor. His hazel eyes were wide with wonder.

"Can I hold him?"

The baby was placed in the dark elf's arms, strong arms that gently embraced the new life. Erestor chuckled at the startled little face. "He has your lips, Síre …"

"And *his* eyes - and yours," she answered. The mournful catch in her voice provoked a tear to form at the corner of her eye, but Erestor came to sit upon the edge of her bed and softly kissed it away.

"I miss him too," he whispered in a low voice that cracked upon the telling. "But I promised you, Síre - I will be as a father to him. I always keep the few promises I make, you know that…"

Síredol lifted her hand to gently caress Erestor's cheek. "I know, and I am grateful, gwador."

"What will you call him?"

"I thought Belegon, but Celebrían suggested Joleyon…?"

Erestor looked darkly at the silver-haired elleth who still stood at the side of the bed, his nostrils flaring.

"She would." The dark elf turned to Rúmil. "What do you think?"

Rúmil was startled at being asked such a personal question. "Uh - Joleyon sounds a bit - pallid - but Belegon is a good name…?"

The older elleth snorted. "And just *who* is this, Erestor?"

Erestor swung around, still holding the baby in his arms, confused at the question. "Um - this is…" his voice trailed away and Rúmil blushed, realising that Erestor had not cared enough to ask him his name.

"His name is Rúmil," a voice interjected. "Gods, 'Res - if *I* can remember, why cannot you?"

Erestor laughed. "You always were better at that kind of thing, Glorfindel. That's why I always leave it up to you."

Rúmil stood in shock. *This* was the mighty Glorfindel? The legendary Warrior Re-Born? This whining asshole? Aiya… And the elleth was Celebrían, the Lady's daughter and Lord Elrond's wife. Oh Elbereth, what had he gotten into?

"So," Celebrían spat, "you are still indiscriminate in your affairs, Erestor. It seems that both you *and* Síredol had babes tonight! For the life of me I cannot see why my husband puts up with you!"

Erestor snorted in poorly concealed irritation, handing the child back to the elleth in the bed.

"I often wonder the same thing about you, Celebrían. And as for my pretty young thing, we were - interrupted - before the event - but do not fret, the night is yet young." He kissed Rúmil on the lips. "Wait outside for me, pen neth. I just have to find someone then we shall be away." The dark elf turned and leaned over to Síredol and the baby, kissing each in turn. "Sleep well, pen vuin, ion nín. I will see you in the morning."

With that the councillor exited, leaving a room full of understanding, and annoyed, and jealous, and horny elves.

****

The walk back to Erestor's rooms was slower than their race to the Healing Halls for it was compounded by Erestor's erratic behaviour. He had returned to collect Rúmil as promised but, to Rúmil's chagrin, Glorfindel had insisted on accompanying them back to the main house. However, Erestor still insisted on fondling and nuzzling the youth's slender body and face, murmuring nonsensical endearments as he staggered along the path.

"I want you, pen neth, I will have you. All. Night. Long."

Glorfindel glowered at Erestor. " 'Res, what did you take?"

Erestor giggled. "A potent concoction encapsulated by my supernaturally superlative apothecary!" He kissed Rúmil once more, his voice a mock whisper in the pointed, shell-like ear. "If you ever hump a herbalist, always be nice to him afterwards, pen neth. *Then* he will always be nice to you!"

Glorfindel huffed in disgust. "Erestor, you have a council meeting in the morning! You, boy, run on home now - this is no place for you."

Erestor's head shot round to glare at the golden warrior. "No, no, Fin. This tasty little morsel is mine until dawn breaks, are you not my sweet?"

Rúmil narrowed his eyes at the golden lord and pressed closely to Erestor, defying the elf to prise him from the councillor's grasp. His statement was clear and firm.

"I am going with *him*."

Erestor laughed again and pulled the youngling to him, kissing him soundly.

"Good boy!"

****

The bed was as comfortable as before but Rúmil did not feel comfortable. Nervous, scared, terrified even - but not comfortable. But above all these emotions he felt wanted, needed, excited and cherished by the elf who was now kissing and stroking his body with a gentleness that amazed the young elf. Even through the haze of the medication he had taken it seemed that Erestor was still aware of Rúmil's innocence in these matters and had gently prepared the youth. Panting now from the erotic movement of the fingers within his hole he knew that he was gazing at the dark elf in lustful adoration. Erestor smiled down gently at him between the raised legs.

"The oil is to prepare the way, pen neth," he murmured. Each movement of the digits within his channel caused Rúmil to gasp more, compounded by the silken brush of the auburn hair against his sensitive nipples.

"It was cold," he whimpered shakily.

"But it heats up quickly." Erestor reached for the vial of oil again, administering a lavish handful to his full member.

Rúmil looked up, his lip trembling in fearful anticipation as the elf leaned forward, the tip of his shaft pressing firmly against the lubricated opening. The youth gasped at the sharp intrusion.

"It hurts!"

"Hush, little boy, breathe with it. Venture beyond the pain and I will bring you a pleasure of which you have only dreamt."

Erestor paused for a moment, allowing the young elf to adjust and then pressed forward once more. Rúmil gasped as the thick shaft brushed across the internal gland, sending a rocket of sensation bursting through his body. He arched up into the contact, wanting more, needing more. Erestor reached forward to whisper in his ear.

"That is it, my little man. Feel me within you for every time you are claimed in the future, you will know that I am always there. Always."

Erestor rocked again, capturing those enticing pink lips with his own on the down stroke, ravaging the mouth even as he claimed the body. Gods, the boy was tight, and so wanton! With every thrust the boy reacted, demanding that he increase the pace to match the passion rising within them. It took all of the ellon's experience and restraint to resist the needful cries for he knew that he did not want to hurt the young boy - nay, edhel - beneath him. Valar, he had not felt such a connection with a lover since - Erestor knew not when. Of the thousands of bodies he had taken none had touched him like this beautiful boy. He wanted to make this good for Rúmil - no, he wanted this to be perfect. He wanted to imprint himself on his very soul so that this gentle elf would remember this night and his first lover forever.

"I will always be with you, seron vell - always!" the councillor gasped as he felt himself reaching the crest of his climax. He pressed forward again, glowing with satisfaction as Rúmil found his release, his hot seed splashing onto their bodies. With one final thrust the dark elf came within the hot channel, coating its walls with his own copious semen.

"Melin le, Glawaren!"

The cry rang around the echoing chamber, exploding unknowingly from an uncomprehending mouth and heard only by the open and trusting heart of the virgin-relieved.

****

The dawn light drifted gently through the glazed windows, unhindered by any drapes or blinds. Rúmil lay on his side watching Erestor toss in his now-disturbed sleep as the light began to wake him from his reverie. The young elf glowed with an inner happiness resulting from the night's endeavours, enjoying his contemplation of the perfection of this elf - his melethron. The first session had not been their last for Erestor had proceeded to repeatedly take him to previously unknown heights, opening his eyes and his body to delights beyond his comprehension. When at last they had succumbed to reverie Rúmil had fallen asleep in the warm and secure arms of this beloved elf, knowing that Erestor of Imladris loved Rúmil of Lórien as much as he loved the councillor.

Flinging an arm across his face to protect the hazel eyes, the councillor groaned as he stirred. Rúmil leaned across to gently lay a soft kiss upon the dark elf's cheek. The arm shot down at the light touch, and the bleary eyes glared at him.

"What the fuck…?"

Rúmil grinned, not knowing that his smile was as blinding as Anor's beams.

"Maer aur, Erestor," he laughed, seeing the irate confusion upon the edhel's face.

The elf grunted. "What are you doing here?" he growled, then shook his head. "Forget it, I remember everything - you could not return to your brother …" Erestor squinted, looking sideways at the youth. "What was your name again?"

"Rúmil…" the young elf stuttered.

Erestor nodded. "I remember." He sat up slowly, clutching his head. "Aiya, what was in that orc shit I took last night…?" He looked sourly at Rúmil, as if to blame him for the pain he was in then seemed to think better of it. "Up, boy. I have a busy day and I am sure you do too."

Rúmil nodded slowly. "I am to take classes under the auspices of Lord Elrond but I do not know where they are held…?"

Erestor nodded absently. "Come on - I will direct you, pen neth." He looked at Rúmil expectantly.

"May I … use your bathing chamber…?" Rúmil asked hesitantly.

Erestor collapsed back onto the bed, waving silently at the door into the bathroom. With haste Rúmil removed himself from Erestor's presence, determined not act like a spoiled child even though the disappointment of the elder elf not even remembering his name bit deeply. Once in the chamber he proceeded to fill the deep tub and slid slowly into the warm water, revelling in its heat even as he winced slightly at the sharp sensation emanating from his hole. He grimaced - then grinned with satisfaction. He was a virgin no longer, and the edhel who had taken it was the most beautiful ellon that Eru had ever created. Despite his youth Rúmil knew that Erestor was his soulmate, the one he would love forever. Of course, from this brief encounter it seemed that Erestor was yet unaware of this fact but Rúmil was nothing if not determined. And obstinate. And resolute. No, Erestor of Imladris *would* be his. He just had to convince the dark elf. He tossed his head back, the soaked strands of his hair flinging out a rainbow shower of droplets, the movement causing his tresses to flare like a silver-gold cloak about the pale shoulders.

From the doorway Erestor watch the action. Varda, the boy was so unaware of his magnetism, his wanton allure! What was it about this youngling that called to him so, that pierced his shield as no other had in his long life? Erestor knew that the shield was truly a wall built about his heart, trapping his emotions, all his feelings - all the love he had left to give was locked within its imprisoning bars. A prison to protect him from memories - to divide him from his childhood. The boy was a danger to him. He could not let him in.

He smirked. Nevertheless, there was no reason that he could not be *within* him once more. Slowly he sauntered to the bath, sliding his long body in behind the youth and took the soap bar from Rúmil.

"Here, let me wash your back."

Rúmil glanced at Erestor in surprise but acquiesced gratefully. Feeling emboldened by Erestor's obvious attraction to him, he ventured to ask a question that had lain on his mind since the night before.

"Who is the child that we saw born last night? Is it yours?"

The gliding hand stopped for a moment against his spine and then began to cleanse him once more.

"I am not the father. That was my cousin, Síredol's husband, but he is now dead. He was killed whilst on patrol six months ago. We three grew up together, in a childhood that was not - easy. When Tolín died I promised that I would keep an eye out for them." The councillor shrugged, the tenor in his voice changing to a more sardonic tone. "It costs me nothing, and she is happy."

Rúmil heard the change but thought it false. He remembered the pure love and joy he had seen in the councillor's eyes at the moment he had taken the baby into his arms. Erestor loved them both, he was sure. The rhythm of the stroking hand had changed and the soap was now circling against his stomach as the councillor placed himself firmly against Rúmil's back. The young elf's breath quickened as the soft voice brushed against his ear.

"Forget the child, for I have my own youth to play with now. What say you, pen neth - are you up for another round?"

Erestor enfolded Rúmil in his arms, clasping the firm chin in one hand to pull him into a devouring kiss. The other hand dropped the soap into the water, freeing it to slide sensuously over the flat stomach. As the hand slid lower Rúmil gasped and he could feel the slim mouth curve into a grin against his neck, for the wandering hand had surely felt just how ready he was. In one quick movement he was lifted and folded over the thick ledge of the tub as firm hands kneaded and parted the swell of his cheeks and a finger probed within. Rúmil cried out at the sensation of the welcome intrusion as first one then two fingers entered his hole to find it still lubricated. The fingers were swiftly replaced by something much harder and larger. The deep voice chuckled.

"I see that you are, Glawaren. I see that you are."


****

Rúmil glanced about them, conscious and somewhat embarrassed at the stares they had garnered during their journey through the halls of the Last Homely House. Glorfindel had arrived at Erestor's chambers as Erestor was dressing him, pressing kisses upon his bare flesh then covering each spot with an item of clothing. The golden warrior's surprise at seeing Rúmil still there was disturbingly apparent.

"You let him stay the night?"

Erestor had looked at Glorfindel in amusement and had laughed. "Of course, Fin." His finger had stroked the downy cheek of the youth, trailing over his jaw to end upon his pouting pink lips. "You do not think that I would send him to his lessons without a very - nourishing - breakfast?"

Glorfindel had grunted his disapproval but Erestor had shrugged away his objections. Together the three elves had exited the residential wing of the main house, Erestor leading the way in his usual confident manner with his arm lightly draped across his friend's shoulders. Glorfindel had almost glowed at the careless attention.

The way had been long and the passages a veritable maze before they finally arrived at the library and associated teaching halls. A large crowd were already gathered there, young elves massing to attend the lectures. The students looked curiously at Rúmil's arrival in the company of the notorious chief councillor of Imladris. Erestor motioned Rúmil forth then called to a lovely dark-haired elleth of similar age to Rúmil. The elleth smiled hesitantly, but the smile was warm and sympathetic.

"Arwen, this is Rúmil who is here to join your class. Be his mentor today, for he is new to Imladris and is in need of a friend."

The elleth smiled in acquiescence, entirely prepared to accept Rúmil as a mellon.

"Of course, Lord Erestor."

Behind Arwen, a heavy-set youth sniggered openly. He was surrounded by a circle of contemporaries and Rúmil could see that he was their leader.

"Ai, not another little sodomite to intrude upon us," the youth commented caustically. "We shall have to watch our backs, boys, especially in the baths after weapons drill!"

Rúmil blushed at the vicious barb and the obedient laughter it provoked. Erestor was more explicit in his response.

"One more word, Cylleruion, and you will find my boot up your tight little ass - or are you longing for a much harder part of my anatomy?"

The youth flushed red, shooting an angry glance at Rúmil before turning to quickly enter the classroom accompanied by the derisive chuckles of those who were not part of his coterie. Rúmil turned eagerly to Erestor, delighted at his spirited defence.

"Can I see you again?"

Erestor looked down upon the glowing elf, his lips twisted into a wry smile.

"I am chief advisor to Lord Elrond, pen neth. I have no doubts that our paths will cross again."

Rúmil shook his head. "No, I mean tonight?"

Erestor sighed and laid the palm of his hand against the soft flesh of Rúmil's young face.

"Glaze your eyes in reverie tonight, Glawaren, and you will find me there. You will see me - in your dreams."

The councillor patted the cheek one last time before departing with Glorfindel to begin his busy day. Rúmil could only stare longingly after him. Arwen touched him on his arm, rousing him back to awareness.

" Come, Rúmil. Our classes begin in a few minutes." She paused, looking at the now-empty corridor that Erestor had traversed but moments before. "He is a handsome edhel, is he not?"

Rúmil shook his head, knowing that the dark elf was so much more than that.

"I have seen the face of a Vala Incarnate," he breathed reverently, "and his name is Erestor of Imladris."

He turned to look at his new-found friend and in a moment of shared humour they laughed at the happy revelation. Looping her arm through Rúmil's, Arwen turned them and together they entered the classroom to begin Rúmil's first full day in Imladris.


FIN

Elvish:

ellyn - male elves (pl)
mellyn - friends (pl)
pen neth - young one
ellon - male elf
edhel - elf (sing.)
Glawaren - my sunlight (Sunshine)
pen vuin - dear one
ion nín - my son
seron vell - beloved/lover
Melin le - I love you
Melethron - male lover
Maer aur - good morning
mellon - friend

Elvish Names from the Sindarin Name Finder, http://www.councilofelrond.com/index.php

Síredol - Lindsay
Belegon - AuGUStus