Through the Ages
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
26
Views:
7,367
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
26
Views:
7,367
Reviews:
19
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 11
Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Glorfindel’s hands wander again. Mention of upcoming pain.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)
Chapter 11
Erestor flitted about his office, placing books here and parchment there, arranging his desk to face the door rather than the window along the back wall, stocking his drawers with quills and inkwells, adding a few personal items from his rooms and putting the two extra chairs on the other side of his desk for consultation purposes. Not that he expected to have many, but they must have been put there for a reason. Just as he was straightening his desktop items there came a knock at the door.
A slight flutter arose in his stomach at the sound and straightening up proudly, Erestor crisply called “Enter.” However, the thrill Erestor had felt disappeared the second the door opened and Glorfindel stepped over the threshold.
“My Lord, how may I help you?”
“You were supposed to come to me first thing this morning for your jobs,” he said sharply.
“Yes my Lord, I know. I was about to come… I just thought to make my office ready before starting work.”
“You have had three days to make your office ready. You are now officially wasting mine and the King’s time.”
Erestor looked as if he were about to protest, but swallowed any complaint and nodded his head, lowering his eyes in supplication. “I am sorry my Lord.”
“I should hope so. Though you ought to be more sorry for that robe!”
“What is wrong with it?” Erestor asked, looking at his robe, expecting to find a stain or stitching come undone.
“Look at it! It’s gaudy! I doubt any Scribe has ever worn anything so hideous!”
Erestor felt a lump in his throat form and swallowed around it. “My father bought this for my majority,” he mumbled, unconsciously brushing it down.
“It shows,” Glorfindel said harshly.
Erestor’s head bolted up, his eyes wide. “I like it,” he stated, squaring his shoulders.
“Well it won’t do. I shall see that new clothes are issued for you. You are now a representative of my House and as such you are expected to look presentable, as any possession of mine is.”
“You do not own me,” Erestor growled lowly. Glorfindel merely raised an eyebrow in amusement and before Erestor knew what was happening, he found himself wedged firmly between Glorfindel and the back wall of his office.
“Do not be so sure of that,” Glorfindel husked, his lips all but pressed against Erestor’s. “My rooms. Tonight,” he ordered, smoothly rolling his hips into the Scribe’s. The younger Elf’s eyes widened upon feeling the Lords’ hard and generous ‘package’. Glorfindel smirked, his intentions grasped, he swiftly swept from the room.
Shaking, Erestor slowly shuffled to his chair and sat down, his mind blank of all thought except that of his impending doom.
~*~*~*~*~
Down the hall, Glorfindel smiled to himself as he would soon *finally* gain that which he had coveted most for the past two years.
TBC
AN: To make up for this short chapter, as a treat I’ll be posting another one this Thursday night (approx.). And sorry for the half a day late update, I had to work 9 ½ hours. My feet kill! No, scratch that, I don’t have feet anymore, they’re just stumps! Anyone care to volunteer rubbing some life back into them? *looks pleadingly*
Thanks for reading,
Luv Mawgy
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Glorfindel’s hands wander again. Mention of upcoming pain.
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)
Chapter 11
Erestor flitted about his office, placing books here and parchment there, arranging his desk to face the door rather than the window along the back wall, stocking his drawers with quills and inkwells, adding a few personal items from his rooms and putting the two extra chairs on the other side of his desk for consultation purposes. Not that he expected to have many, but they must have been put there for a reason. Just as he was straightening his desktop items there came a knock at the door.
A slight flutter arose in his stomach at the sound and straightening up proudly, Erestor crisply called “Enter.” However, the thrill Erestor had felt disappeared the second the door opened and Glorfindel stepped over the threshold.
“My Lord, how may I help you?”
“You were supposed to come to me first thing this morning for your jobs,” he said sharply.
“Yes my Lord, I know. I was about to come… I just thought to make my office ready before starting work.”
“You have had three days to make your office ready. You are now officially wasting mine and the King’s time.”
Erestor looked as if he were about to protest, but swallowed any complaint and nodded his head, lowering his eyes in supplication. “I am sorry my Lord.”
“I should hope so. Though you ought to be more sorry for that robe!”
“What is wrong with it?” Erestor asked, looking at his robe, expecting to find a stain or stitching come undone.
“Look at it! It’s gaudy! I doubt any Scribe has ever worn anything so hideous!”
Erestor felt a lump in his throat form and swallowed around it. “My father bought this for my majority,” he mumbled, unconsciously brushing it down.
“It shows,” Glorfindel said harshly.
Erestor’s head bolted up, his eyes wide. “I like it,” he stated, squaring his shoulders.
“Well it won’t do. I shall see that new clothes are issued for you. You are now a representative of my House and as such you are expected to look presentable, as any possession of mine is.”
“You do not own me,” Erestor growled lowly. Glorfindel merely raised an eyebrow in amusement and before Erestor knew what was happening, he found himself wedged firmly between Glorfindel and the back wall of his office.
“Do not be so sure of that,” Glorfindel husked, his lips all but pressed against Erestor’s. “My rooms. Tonight,” he ordered, smoothly rolling his hips into the Scribe’s. The younger Elf’s eyes widened upon feeling the Lords’ hard and generous ‘package’. Glorfindel smirked, his intentions grasped, he swiftly swept from the room.
Shaking, Erestor slowly shuffled to his chair and sat down, his mind blank of all thought except that of his impending doom.
~*~*~*~*~
Down the hall, Glorfindel smiled to himself as he would soon *finally* gain that which he had coveted most for the past two years.
TBC
AN: To make up for this short chapter, as a treat I’ll be posting another one this Thursday night (approx.). And sorry for the half a day late update, I had to work 9 ½ hours. My feet kill! No, scratch that, I don’t have feet anymore, they’re just stumps! Anyone care to volunteer rubbing some life back into them? *looks pleadingly*
Thanks for reading,
Luv Mawgy