The Wrong Path
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
23
Views:
4,213
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
23
Views:
4,213
Reviews:
6
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.
Chapter 10- And All Falls
Title: The Wrong Path
Author: erviniae
Chapter 10/?
Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path”
For the Hall of Books challenge
Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Glorfindel
Rating: PG to eventual NC-17
Warning: AU, Angst, M/M
Beta: Nikkiling
Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit
in having fun with his wonderful universe.
Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the
Right one.
Feedback: If you would be so kind.
And all Falls
Excitement filled the air around him, although the night was bittersweet for Erestor. Finally he would be united with the one who owned his heart; yet he would leave behind all he ever knew and those he cared for. Checking his pocket once more, he was comforted by the bag of money and gems that Ecthelion had given him to keep for their journey. He added a dagger to his belt as his final act of dressing for the night’s festivities-the very dagger that Ecthelion had given him as a gift upon his wedding to Lothwen.
Lothwen. There was a note to be delivered to her upon the stroke of midnight. In it was an explanation of his departure and of all the wealth he and Ecthelion decided to leave her. Lothwen walked into their sitting room dressed in a gown of lightest blue, her hair arranged in an intricate weave of braids and pearls. Erestor offered his arm to her as they left their chambers to head to the celebration. “You look lovely this night, Lothwen,” he told her with sincerity into her eyes. She blushed and smiled back at her husband in name only.
Across the city, Ecthelion prepared to leave his home for the last time. Memories assaulted him as he looked fondly at his belongings. Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against the carved wooden door and sighed; Erestor’s visage before him gave him the resolve to go on. As he took one step down his path towards his new life, the great horns sounded loudly: not in celebration as expected, but in distress. ‘How could this be?’ thought Ecthelion until he saw guards running down the road, with some stopping before him. “My Lord Ecthelion,” breathed a guard heavily, his eyes wild with fear. “We are under attack!”
Ecthelion began yelling orders and ran into his house to the armory. He was hastily helped into his armor, his spiked helm forced upon his head. He met with Turgon and the other House Chieftains for a quick war council. Erestor, along with the other advisors, were in attendance as well. Tuor called for all to break the siege, but Salgant convinced them to stay and fight, since he was enamored of Maeglin, and unfortunately Turgon did not want to give up his idealist city. ¹ And so to war they went.
Ecthelion looked towards Erestor with untold emotions in his eyes as their gazes locked. “Take all that you can and flee through Idril’s passage.” Ecthelion shouted as Glorfindel took hold of his arm to lead him to their posts.
“Nay, I too will fight! I am a warrior!” Erestor yelled back.
Ecthelion pulled out of Glorfindel’s grip. “That is why they will need you! You have to help those who can escape, Erestor! Do not be fools like us!” With that he was gone down the palace steps and into the market square.
Erestor did as he was told, following Tuor and Idril’s lead. He could only hope that his family escaped as they lived near the breaching wall. Lothwen helped Idril care for any elflings in the tunnel that led to their present destination upon the narrow pass of the Cristhorn. There, Glorfindel met up with his infamous demise, bringing safety to all with his selfless end.
Imladris, 1700 Second Age
Lothwen awoke to the sounds of screams. She entered Erestor’s bedroom to see him panting heavily, sweat rolling off of him. Tendrils of ebony hair stuck to his moist chest; which was heaving with each breath he took. Wild eyes looked at her in fear. “Shhhh, tis alright, my lord. You are safe. It is but a dream.” She soothed her husband of over a millennia. He clung to the front of her nightdress, resting his head under her chin.
Comforting him, she rocked back and forth until he fell into a deep sleep once more. When he would awaken, he would not remember any of it. It was this way since Imladris became besieged by Sauron’s forces, causing them to defend their newly founded home, led by Gil-Galad’s herald and Idril’s grandsire, Elrond. It forced memories that lay hidden back to the forefront of his mind; memories of Gondolin’s fall and of all that they had left behind.
“Nana?” came the small voice from the open doorway. “Is Ada sick?”
“No, my son, he has just had a bad dream,” Lothwen proceeded to usher their child back to his bed. His long brown hair tousled from sleep around his small frame.
Stopping in the sitting room suddenly, the elfling turned to his mother, “May I go sleep with Ada? Maybe it will stop him from having bad dreams?” Their son adored his father, for Erestor was a doting parent who cherished the gift of life that was granted them.
He spent as much time with Melpomean as he could, teaching him and playing with him whenever duty did not keep him from his son. Lothwen smiled and escorted her son back to Erestor’s room. She watched fondly as Melpomean climbed in next to Erestor, his small hands pulling the sheet over the both of them. She noted that even deep in sleep, Erestor seemed to be comforted by his very presence. His countenance took on a peaceful look of slumber.
Returning to her room, Lothwen sat upon a chair that faced the balcony. The night, clear and crisp, twinkled with the light of stars. So calm and peaceful-so unlike the attacks their vale had suffered from of late. Pulling her legs up under her, she threw a blanket over her lap and thought of the night she asked Erestor for a child….
… She had never been so afraid or so sure of anything in her life. She came to Erestor as he sat behind his desk in Lindon twenty-six years ago. Nervously she had wrung her hands, her throat suddenly going dry. Looking up from his paperwork, he smiled and asked her what was wrong. Of course he would be able to tell, she had thought, he was an advisor for a reason. Standing in front of the desk now, she sighed heavily. “I…I… have been thinking of late and have come to an important decision.” Intrigued, he put down his quill and gave her his full attention. It was not every day that she spoke thusly. She was not a frivolous she-Elf and was content with what life had given her.
“I wish to have a child,” she stammered out but kept her eyes fixed on his.
“You wish to adopt?” He asked with a questioning furrow to his brow.
“No, I um, I wish to have a child with you.” She watched for any sign of disgust from Erestor.
“May I have time to contemplate all of this, since it is so sudden to me?” He asked her with sincerity.
“Aye, my lord, as long as you wish.” She bowed her head and left, a smile lighting her face. ‘He did not say no,’ she told herself with hope.
Erestor fell back against his chair as she left. Long slender hands running through silken midnight locks. ‘A child?’ His thoughts raced. ‘I did not think it possible.’ Then his face paled at the implication. Of the act it precipitated. Could he do this? Would he be able to?
It had been millennia since he even took himself in hand. Not since Gondolin. Not since Ecthelion…he closed his eyes as a single tear fell upon his lap.
He had grown to love Lothwen. She was a wonderful friend. They had helped one another through the grief of The Fall. They had built a life together; even though they were separate, they still shared a life. To all they were as any other married pair of Elves. In their quarters they lived as friends to the mutual benefit of both. So it was with logical thinking that he decided to grant her request. He knew she would make a wonderful mother and she needed to love as much as he did.
And so it was that twenty years ago, Lothwen gave birth to their only child: a son they named Melpomean. He was light of both his parent’s lives. She remembered with fondness the night that Erestor had finally lain with her. They were both so nervous, so unsure of the act in itself. To her delight as she opened herself to receive his seed, he treated her with kindness, tenderness and affection. She felt loved. Her eyes watched as his face contorted in ecstasy as he came with the slightest of moans; and so began the little life inside her.
Smiling, she fell into an easy sleep.
………….
News arrived that Gil-Galad and Cirdan had come by river to aid to Imladris in her moment of need, thus ending the siege upon her borders. With them, they brought someone who was to become an important part of all their lives; to Imladris and to the House of Elrond, a certain warrior of old, Glorfindel of Gondolin.
TBC……
1. Based upon information at http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Fall_of_Gondolin
Author: erviniae
Chapter 10/?
Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path”
For the Hall of Books challenge
Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Glorfindel
Rating: PG to eventual NC-17
Warning: AU, Angst, M/M
Beta: Nikkiling
Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit
in having fun with his wonderful universe.
Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the
Right one.
Feedback: If you would be so kind.
And all Falls
Excitement filled the air around him, although the night was bittersweet for Erestor. Finally he would be united with the one who owned his heart; yet he would leave behind all he ever knew and those he cared for. Checking his pocket once more, he was comforted by the bag of money and gems that Ecthelion had given him to keep for their journey. He added a dagger to his belt as his final act of dressing for the night’s festivities-the very dagger that Ecthelion had given him as a gift upon his wedding to Lothwen.
Lothwen. There was a note to be delivered to her upon the stroke of midnight. In it was an explanation of his departure and of all the wealth he and Ecthelion decided to leave her. Lothwen walked into their sitting room dressed in a gown of lightest blue, her hair arranged in an intricate weave of braids and pearls. Erestor offered his arm to her as they left their chambers to head to the celebration. “You look lovely this night, Lothwen,” he told her with sincerity into her eyes. She blushed and smiled back at her husband in name only.
Across the city, Ecthelion prepared to leave his home for the last time. Memories assaulted him as he looked fondly at his belongings. Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against the carved wooden door and sighed; Erestor’s visage before him gave him the resolve to go on. As he took one step down his path towards his new life, the great horns sounded loudly: not in celebration as expected, but in distress. ‘How could this be?’ thought Ecthelion until he saw guards running down the road, with some stopping before him. “My Lord Ecthelion,” breathed a guard heavily, his eyes wild with fear. “We are under attack!”
Ecthelion began yelling orders and ran into his house to the armory. He was hastily helped into his armor, his spiked helm forced upon his head. He met with Turgon and the other House Chieftains for a quick war council. Erestor, along with the other advisors, were in attendance as well. Tuor called for all to break the siege, but Salgant convinced them to stay and fight, since he was enamored of Maeglin, and unfortunately Turgon did not want to give up his idealist city. ¹ And so to war they went.
Ecthelion looked towards Erestor with untold emotions in his eyes as their gazes locked. “Take all that you can and flee through Idril’s passage.” Ecthelion shouted as Glorfindel took hold of his arm to lead him to their posts.
“Nay, I too will fight! I am a warrior!” Erestor yelled back.
Ecthelion pulled out of Glorfindel’s grip. “That is why they will need you! You have to help those who can escape, Erestor! Do not be fools like us!” With that he was gone down the palace steps and into the market square.
Erestor did as he was told, following Tuor and Idril’s lead. He could only hope that his family escaped as they lived near the breaching wall. Lothwen helped Idril care for any elflings in the tunnel that led to their present destination upon the narrow pass of the Cristhorn. There, Glorfindel met up with his infamous demise, bringing safety to all with his selfless end.
Imladris, 1700 Second Age
Lothwen awoke to the sounds of screams. She entered Erestor’s bedroom to see him panting heavily, sweat rolling off of him. Tendrils of ebony hair stuck to his moist chest; which was heaving with each breath he took. Wild eyes looked at her in fear. “Shhhh, tis alright, my lord. You are safe. It is but a dream.” She soothed her husband of over a millennia. He clung to the front of her nightdress, resting his head under her chin.
Comforting him, she rocked back and forth until he fell into a deep sleep once more. When he would awaken, he would not remember any of it. It was this way since Imladris became besieged by Sauron’s forces, causing them to defend their newly founded home, led by Gil-Galad’s herald and Idril’s grandsire, Elrond. It forced memories that lay hidden back to the forefront of his mind; memories of Gondolin’s fall and of all that they had left behind.
“Nana?” came the small voice from the open doorway. “Is Ada sick?”
“No, my son, he has just had a bad dream,” Lothwen proceeded to usher their child back to his bed. His long brown hair tousled from sleep around his small frame.
Stopping in the sitting room suddenly, the elfling turned to his mother, “May I go sleep with Ada? Maybe it will stop him from having bad dreams?” Their son adored his father, for Erestor was a doting parent who cherished the gift of life that was granted them.
He spent as much time with Melpomean as he could, teaching him and playing with him whenever duty did not keep him from his son. Lothwen smiled and escorted her son back to Erestor’s room. She watched fondly as Melpomean climbed in next to Erestor, his small hands pulling the sheet over the both of them. She noted that even deep in sleep, Erestor seemed to be comforted by his very presence. His countenance took on a peaceful look of slumber.
Returning to her room, Lothwen sat upon a chair that faced the balcony. The night, clear and crisp, twinkled with the light of stars. So calm and peaceful-so unlike the attacks their vale had suffered from of late. Pulling her legs up under her, she threw a blanket over her lap and thought of the night she asked Erestor for a child….
… She had never been so afraid or so sure of anything in her life. She came to Erestor as he sat behind his desk in Lindon twenty-six years ago. Nervously she had wrung her hands, her throat suddenly going dry. Looking up from his paperwork, he smiled and asked her what was wrong. Of course he would be able to tell, she had thought, he was an advisor for a reason. Standing in front of the desk now, she sighed heavily. “I…I… have been thinking of late and have come to an important decision.” Intrigued, he put down his quill and gave her his full attention. It was not every day that she spoke thusly. She was not a frivolous she-Elf and was content with what life had given her.
“I wish to have a child,” she stammered out but kept her eyes fixed on his.
“You wish to adopt?” He asked with a questioning furrow to his brow.
“No, I um, I wish to have a child with you.” She watched for any sign of disgust from Erestor.
“May I have time to contemplate all of this, since it is so sudden to me?” He asked her with sincerity.
“Aye, my lord, as long as you wish.” She bowed her head and left, a smile lighting her face. ‘He did not say no,’ she told herself with hope.
Erestor fell back against his chair as she left. Long slender hands running through silken midnight locks. ‘A child?’ His thoughts raced. ‘I did not think it possible.’ Then his face paled at the implication. Of the act it precipitated. Could he do this? Would he be able to?
It had been millennia since he even took himself in hand. Not since Gondolin. Not since Ecthelion…he closed his eyes as a single tear fell upon his lap.
He had grown to love Lothwen. She was a wonderful friend. They had helped one another through the grief of The Fall. They had built a life together; even though they were separate, they still shared a life. To all they were as any other married pair of Elves. In their quarters they lived as friends to the mutual benefit of both. So it was with logical thinking that he decided to grant her request. He knew she would make a wonderful mother and she needed to love as much as he did.
And so it was that twenty years ago, Lothwen gave birth to their only child: a son they named Melpomean. He was light of both his parent’s lives. She remembered with fondness the night that Erestor had finally lain with her. They were both so nervous, so unsure of the act in itself. To her delight as she opened herself to receive his seed, he treated her with kindness, tenderness and affection. She felt loved. Her eyes watched as his face contorted in ecstasy as he came with the slightest of moans; and so began the little life inside her.
Smiling, she fell into an easy sleep.
………….
News arrived that Gil-Galad and Cirdan had come by river to aid to Imladris in her moment of need, thus ending the siege upon her borders. With them, they brought someone who was to become an important part of all their lives; to Imladris and to the House of Elrond, a certain warrior of old, Glorfindel of Gondolin.
TBC……
1. Based upon information at http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Fall_of_Gondolin