Livin' On A Prayer
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,401
Reviews:
3
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0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,401
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Livin' On A Prayer
Title: Livin’ On A Prayer
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: http://lynsey-schadegg.livejournal.com/ and http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296789875
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Fiction_by_Lynsey/
Beta: Tena *huggles muchly*
Chapter: 1/?
Pairings: Lindir/Erestor
Rating: PG this part
Warnings: Slash, AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: An aspiring musician and his husband are down on their luck and living the hard life. Can they hope to rise above as long as they have each other to hold on to?
A/N: This story is inspired by the song “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi. It IS NOT A SONGFIC. Big thanks to Athos for all of her encouragement and great ideas.
Lindir opened the door to his small hut and slammed it behind him. He flopped down onto the little bed in the corner as Erestor looked at him quizzically from the tiny stove he was cooking their meal on.
“You’re home early,” was Erestor’s comment as he stirred a pot of soup.
Lindir groaned and rubbed his face in his hands. “There’s a strike.”
The darker haired elf left his pot and wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “What? I thought this job was supposed to be stable?”
“Apparently they lied. Everyone’s on strike. There’s a few of us that still want the work regardless of the conditions, but with no-one else working it’s pointless to keep us on until the others come back. I’m out of a job. Again.”
Erestor sighed deeply and sat on the bed beside his husband. He put the rag in his lap and took Lindir’s dirtied hands in his own. The silver-haired elf raised his head to regard the other. “We’ll make it, hun,” Erestor whispered. “We’ve just got to hold on to what we got: each other. We’ll just give it another shot.” Lindir looked weary and skeptical. “I swear,” Erestor said as he released his husband’s hand to return to the pot on the stove.
The silver elf watched as Erestor stirred the soup. That was the last of their food until Erestor brought home his pay at the end of the week. Sometimes, his husband got lucky enough to bring home the old or leftover food from the tavern where he worked, but they had learned not to count on that as a constant source of food. The despondent elf looked to the corner beside the bed where his lute sat. It was a very nice instrument. It was worth quite a bit, and it was the most expensive possession in their household. It was too bad he couldn’t get a job as a minstrel if his life depended on it.
All the Lords of the area already had a personal musician, and, being elves, it was unlikely that one would die so he could take their place. So he had taken any job he could find, most of which had bottomed out. Just like this one.
He sighed as he continued to watch the darkling elf putter around, cleaning and cooking. His Erestor. The young elf had caught his attention a few years ago. Erestor had been a server in a pub that Lindir had frequented when he had been going through school. They had begun talking, and Lindir had found that Erestor was going to school too. The younger elf wanted to be a librarian, he had told Lindir. They had fallen in love and bound to each other. Erestor had quit school to follow Lindir in his pursuit of his dream of music. So far, his dream was far from realized, and he had dragged the bright young elf down with him.
/Erestor could have done so much if I hadn’t asked him to come with me,/ thought Lindir sadly. /He could have raised high in the ranks of some Lord’s house. He could have done so much better than me./
Erestor turned to regard the melancholy look on his beloved’s face. “Stop being so down hearted,” he admonished as he brought his husband a bowl of the soup. “I know it’s hard, but we’ll make. I know we will. Just pray a little.” Lindir took the bowl and drank from it slowly. It was thin, watery, and tasteless. He made a face but continued to sip. It was all they could afford.
Erestor put on the loose shirt and breeches he wore for work and kissed his husband goodbye before he left without eating. Lindir sighed again. Erestor always said that he ate at work, but Lindir didn’t believe it. Not with how skinny the other elf was. Erestor worked at a small tavern down the road. It didn’t pay well, but it was all he could get. The dark elf had not completed his training so he couldn’t get a job doing what he really wanted, and he had experience serving.
The silver singer finished his dinner and picked up his lute. He played a few tunes before he stood and packed it carefully in its case. He left his house and made his way to the trade district.
************************
Erestor arrived home near dawn, as usual. Lindir was asleep in their bed, tossing fitfully. Erestor removed his dirtied, stained clothes that reeked of cheap food and beer before moving to slip into bed beside his husband. However, before he could lie down, something caught his eye. The spot where Lindir kept his lute was empty. He looked around curiously. Lindir was so very careful with that instrument, and Erestor found it difficult to think that he had left it sitting around carelessly. He saw a pouch sitting on the tiny table near the door and opened it. There were several coins in it. Much more than they had, he knew. He turned to see Lindir had woken and was leaning up on his elbow.
“I put it in hock. We need the money, and I thought that someday I would be able to buy it back again…”
Erestor dropped the purse and went to his husband. He held the silver elf as he sniffled a few times and some tears left his eyes. He refused to loose it now. There was too much he needed to do. He held Erestor away from him and kissed his cheek.
“I’m going to find another job. Like you said, all we need is a little prayer. We’ll make it through, because I have you.”
Erestor watched as Lindir dressed and left the hut in search of his next job.
*****************
Although he had been exhausted when he got home that morning, Erestor couldn’t sleep. He wandered through the market place, looking at the little stalls that lined the walls of large, light colored buildings. He knew he couldn’t afford anything in this area of the market, but he still liked to look. He ran his hands over the leather spines of the books of one vender. He picked one up and brought it to his face. The dark elf took a deep breath, inhaling the much loved scent of leather and parchment.
A small commotion to his right caught his attention. An elf was trying to barter with a human vendor, and it was obvious the elf didn’t know the human’s language nor the human the elf’s. Erestor watched quietly for a moment and set down the book he had been holding with a nod to the vendor. He approached the duo in time to hear the elf ask exasperatedly how much a particular herb was. Apparently, he had asked this question several times already. Erestor touched the other elf’s arm, and jumped back a step as the much larger male swung around to face him.
Nervously, Erestor twisted the cuff of his worn shirt. He felt very…poor compared to the elf in front of him. It was obvious he was a lord of some kind. When would he learn to keep his nose out of matters that did not belong in?
“I-I can help. If you would like. My Lord,” he added, embarrassed at his own audacity. The lordly elf cocked an eyebrow up to his hairline as he regarded the impoverished elf in front of him. The dark eyes rose from where they had been fixed on his boots. “What did you want to know the price of?”
The Lord pointed to a crumbled mess in jar that Erestor didn’t know anything about, but he dutifully asked the human how much it was. Receiving his answer he relayed it to the Lord. From the look on his face, Erestor could guess that he thought the price was outrageous. The small elf turned to the human and started wheedling the price down. When he was sure that the human would budge no further on the cost, he told the Lord the final price. Satisfied, the Lord pulled out a purse of coins and gave the correct amount to the merchant and took his goods.
“Thank you, pen neth,” the Lord said as they left the booth.
“Not a problem, my Lord,” replied Erestor quietly and meekly.
“You have a gift for haggling. I would have just paid the first price and been done with it. Thank you for your assistance. May I ask your name?” asked the Lord as he stowed his purchases on a horse that was loosely tied in one of the small alleys in between the buildings.
“My name is Erestor, my Lord,” Erestor said as he bowed.
“Where do you work, youngling?”
“At the Corner Tavern, my Lord,” answered the dark elf.
“Hmm…thank you again for your help. And please, don’t call me ‘my Lord.’” With that the elf mounted his steed and started off across the market place, leaving a still nervous and confused Erestor standing in the alley.
TBC…
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: http://lynsey-schadegg.livejournal.com/ and http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296789875
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Fiction_by_Lynsey/
Beta: Tena *huggles muchly*
Chapter: 1/?
Pairings: Lindir/Erestor
Rating: PG this part
Warnings: Slash, AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: An aspiring musician and his husband are down on their luck and living the hard life. Can they hope to rise above as long as they have each other to hold on to?
A/N: This story is inspired by the song “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi. It IS NOT A SONGFIC. Big thanks to Athos for all of her encouragement and great ideas.
Lindir opened the door to his small hut and slammed it behind him. He flopped down onto the little bed in the corner as Erestor looked at him quizzically from the tiny stove he was cooking their meal on.
“You’re home early,” was Erestor’s comment as he stirred a pot of soup.
Lindir groaned and rubbed his face in his hands. “There’s a strike.”
The darker haired elf left his pot and wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “What? I thought this job was supposed to be stable?”
“Apparently they lied. Everyone’s on strike. There’s a few of us that still want the work regardless of the conditions, but with no-one else working it’s pointless to keep us on until the others come back. I’m out of a job. Again.”
Erestor sighed deeply and sat on the bed beside his husband. He put the rag in his lap and took Lindir’s dirtied hands in his own. The silver-haired elf raised his head to regard the other. “We’ll make it, hun,” Erestor whispered. “We’ve just got to hold on to what we got: each other. We’ll just give it another shot.” Lindir looked weary and skeptical. “I swear,” Erestor said as he released his husband’s hand to return to the pot on the stove.
The silver elf watched as Erestor stirred the soup. That was the last of their food until Erestor brought home his pay at the end of the week. Sometimes, his husband got lucky enough to bring home the old or leftover food from the tavern where he worked, but they had learned not to count on that as a constant source of food. The despondent elf looked to the corner beside the bed where his lute sat. It was a very nice instrument. It was worth quite a bit, and it was the most expensive possession in their household. It was too bad he couldn’t get a job as a minstrel if his life depended on it.
All the Lords of the area already had a personal musician, and, being elves, it was unlikely that one would die so he could take their place. So he had taken any job he could find, most of which had bottomed out. Just like this one.
He sighed as he continued to watch the darkling elf putter around, cleaning and cooking. His Erestor. The young elf had caught his attention a few years ago. Erestor had been a server in a pub that Lindir had frequented when he had been going through school. They had begun talking, and Lindir had found that Erestor was going to school too. The younger elf wanted to be a librarian, he had told Lindir. They had fallen in love and bound to each other. Erestor had quit school to follow Lindir in his pursuit of his dream of music. So far, his dream was far from realized, and he had dragged the bright young elf down with him.
/Erestor could have done so much if I hadn’t asked him to come with me,/ thought Lindir sadly. /He could have raised high in the ranks of some Lord’s house. He could have done so much better than me./
Erestor turned to regard the melancholy look on his beloved’s face. “Stop being so down hearted,” he admonished as he brought his husband a bowl of the soup. “I know it’s hard, but we’ll make. I know we will. Just pray a little.” Lindir took the bowl and drank from it slowly. It was thin, watery, and tasteless. He made a face but continued to sip. It was all they could afford.
Erestor put on the loose shirt and breeches he wore for work and kissed his husband goodbye before he left without eating. Lindir sighed again. Erestor always said that he ate at work, but Lindir didn’t believe it. Not with how skinny the other elf was. Erestor worked at a small tavern down the road. It didn’t pay well, but it was all he could get. The dark elf had not completed his training so he couldn’t get a job doing what he really wanted, and he had experience serving.
The silver singer finished his dinner and picked up his lute. He played a few tunes before he stood and packed it carefully in its case. He left his house and made his way to the trade district.
************************
Erestor arrived home near dawn, as usual. Lindir was asleep in their bed, tossing fitfully. Erestor removed his dirtied, stained clothes that reeked of cheap food and beer before moving to slip into bed beside his husband. However, before he could lie down, something caught his eye. The spot where Lindir kept his lute was empty. He looked around curiously. Lindir was so very careful with that instrument, and Erestor found it difficult to think that he had left it sitting around carelessly. He saw a pouch sitting on the tiny table near the door and opened it. There were several coins in it. Much more than they had, he knew. He turned to see Lindir had woken and was leaning up on his elbow.
“I put it in hock. We need the money, and I thought that someday I would be able to buy it back again…”
Erestor dropped the purse and went to his husband. He held the silver elf as he sniffled a few times and some tears left his eyes. He refused to loose it now. There was too much he needed to do. He held Erestor away from him and kissed his cheek.
“I’m going to find another job. Like you said, all we need is a little prayer. We’ll make it through, because I have you.”
Erestor watched as Lindir dressed and left the hut in search of his next job.
*****************
Although he had been exhausted when he got home that morning, Erestor couldn’t sleep. He wandered through the market place, looking at the little stalls that lined the walls of large, light colored buildings. He knew he couldn’t afford anything in this area of the market, but he still liked to look. He ran his hands over the leather spines of the books of one vender. He picked one up and brought it to his face. The dark elf took a deep breath, inhaling the much loved scent of leather and parchment.
A small commotion to his right caught his attention. An elf was trying to barter with a human vendor, and it was obvious the elf didn’t know the human’s language nor the human the elf’s. Erestor watched quietly for a moment and set down the book he had been holding with a nod to the vendor. He approached the duo in time to hear the elf ask exasperatedly how much a particular herb was. Apparently, he had asked this question several times already. Erestor touched the other elf’s arm, and jumped back a step as the much larger male swung around to face him.
Nervously, Erestor twisted the cuff of his worn shirt. He felt very…poor compared to the elf in front of him. It was obvious he was a lord of some kind. When would he learn to keep his nose out of matters that did not belong in?
“I-I can help. If you would like. My Lord,” he added, embarrassed at his own audacity. The lordly elf cocked an eyebrow up to his hairline as he regarded the impoverished elf in front of him. The dark eyes rose from where they had been fixed on his boots. “What did you want to know the price of?”
The Lord pointed to a crumbled mess in jar that Erestor didn’t know anything about, but he dutifully asked the human how much it was. Receiving his answer he relayed it to the Lord. From the look on his face, Erestor could guess that he thought the price was outrageous. The small elf turned to the human and started wheedling the price down. When he was sure that the human would budge no further on the cost, he told the Lord the final price. Satisfied, the Lord pulled out a purse of coins and gave the correct amount to the merchant and took his goods.
“Thank you, pen neth,” the Lord said as they left the booth.
“Not a problem, my Lord,” replied Erestor quietly and meekly.
“You have a gift for haggling. I would have just paid the first price and been done with it. Thank you for your assistance. May I ask your name?” asked the Lord as he stowed his purchases on a horse that was loosely tied in one of the small alleys in between the buildings.
“My name is Erestor, my Lord,” Erestor said as he bowed.
“Where do you work, youngling?”
“At the Corner Tavern, my Lord,” answered the dark elf.
“Hmm…thank you again for your help. And please, don’t call me ‘my Lord.’” With that the elf mounted his steed and started off across the market place, leaving a still nervous and confused Erestor standing in the alley.
TBC…