Rationalising MPreg

Title: Rationalising MPreg

Author: sylc

Summary: Lindir, a former thrall, is forced against his will to become a witness in Sauron's trial on Taniquetil in the Fourth Age.

Characters/Pairings: Glorfindel/Lindir, Sauron/Lindir, OMC/Lindir, OMC/Lindir, Ingwë, Eönwë, Silmo, Elrond, Ecthelion, OMCs, OFCs

Rating: NC-17 (for series)

Warnings: Slash, MPreg, Angst, Slavery, Noncon, Tentacles, Body manipulation, Mind control, Oral, Violence, Minor involved

Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I make money from this.





“How did you meet Sauron?” Silmo asked.



After the court had asked him various questions to confirm his identity and confirm that he was indeed a former thrall and did consider himself as one, they had proceeded straight to the questions pertinent to Lindir's history with Sauron.



I met him in Eregion. In the Second Age of the Sun. He was introduced to me soon after he had moved into Lord Celebrimbor’s house."



"Who introduced you?"



"My master, Erestor, son of Erendur. He was Lord Celebrimbor's chief scribe and advisor. I was his assistant. Lord Annatar came to Erestor's study one day; I was there at the time so Erestor introduced us."



"How long had you worked for Erestor before that day?"



Not long at all. About six years.



“Was that your first station?”



No, I was still in training - my placement in Eregion was the last stage in my training to become a scribe.



"What were you doing before you received your placement in Eregion?"



I was in Lindon, my homeland, and training with Lord Elrond, son of Earendil, then herald to King Gil-galad.



"Elrond was then and is still a highly regarded scholar. Your being his student suggests that you were very talented."



I was. Elrond said I was exceptional and that he hoped to see me back in Lindon one day.



"Why then, if you were so exceptional, did he send you away to Eregion?"



Elrond considered taking me on at the palace, but thought that I would do better under Erestor. He thought highly of Erestor.



“Back to Annatar. You say you met him soon after he had moved into Celebrimbor's house.”



Yes.



“Had you heard of him before then?”



I had, but I had not set eyes on him before then; he had lived for the few months before that time on the side of the realm that was closest to the mountains and the smithies and thus, furthest from where I lived and worked.



“What about before he first entered the realm? Ever. Had you heard of him then?”



I think Celebrimbor and some other jewel smiths had heard something of Annatar’s skills with jewel-smithery before he first arrived in the realm - his reputation had preceded him in the smithies, but I had not heard of him before then.



“Not as Sauron?”



Well, of course I had heard of the name Sauron, but that Annatar was Sauron or that Sauron was even active after the War of Wrath, never entered my mind then or later when I eventually met him.



“Were you aware at the time that you met Annatar that he had already tried and been refused entry to Lindon?”



No. I knew later that Gil-galad and Elrond had both written to warn Celebrimbor, but Celebrimbor at the time did not tell us that he had received such warnings.



"Why do you think that Celebrimbor, in spite of these warnings, admitted Annatar to Eregion and did not tell the citizens that Gil-galad and Elrond had both rejected him?”



I do not know. I think that perhaps Celebrimbor felt pressured by the jewel smith population in Eregion to admit Annatar and did not wish to concern the rest of us. Also, there was no conclusive evidence that Gil-galad and Elrond had sound reason for refusing Annatar entrance to Eregion; Lindon was a very conservative realm at that time and suspicious of outsiders - perhaps it was assumed that Lindon simply refused Annatar because he was not one of them.



“Lindir,” Silmo said then. “Eonwe has requested that you now recall your first encounter with Sauron.”



How?



“I will help you. It is quite easy once the process has started. See the images in your mind’s eye and try to recall the feelings, the smells, the lights, and the sounds that travel with the memory; it should flow from there. I will help you to sustain the memory.”



Lindir swallowed, inclined his head, and tried to do as Silmo said. He thought of his first familiar memory of that day that came right before Sauron’s arrival and focused on it. That the memory incidentally happened to begin with his then master, Erestor, Celebrimbor’s scribe, and it involved Erestor telling him off, was no surprise to him.



~*~



The scribe Erestor was in a terribly foul mood and he seemed intent on letting everyone over whom he had any power have a taste of it before the morning was out. And unfortunately for Lindir, who was the only other permanent occupant of Erestor’s study, this meant that he received the full brunt of the scribe’s wrath.



Lindir, his ears still ringing from the verbal lashing that Erestor had given him only minutes ago, waited until Erestor’s back was turned before raising his hand to his mouth to suck at the paper cuts on his fingers. Curse Erestor for standing over him and criticising him for the past few hours and making him tremble so much that he could not hold his work properly. Even if he had misspelled Ereinion Gil-galad’s name throughout the Anthology of Elven Kings book that Erestor had been dictating to him over the past month, that was no reason for the scribe to rant and rave at him and make them both feel miserable.



What on Arda bit him at breakfast and where on his person did it bite him? he thought grumpily as he watched Erestor stalk into the back room with the copy and slam the door so hard that the paintings shook on the wall. He glanced up at the day schedule that was pinned on the wall before him and above his desk in the corner. Save for the tasks that he had already completed and cut his fingers on, it was blank. If Erestor had been in a better mood, it was likely that the scribe would have let him have the rest of the day free even though it was not yet noon.



But as it stood, it was likely that Erestor would simply give him some extra work - probably something dusty that would make him sneeze. Perhaps the scribe would even offload some of his own work onto him.



He turned around in his chair and stared at Erestor’s desk, which sat in the centre of the room; nicely cast in the golden glow of the morning sun that was streaming through the windows, and the fat diary that was sitting on top of it, full of Erestor’s appointments. Lindir filled it in and checked it every morning, usually as soon as he arrived in the scribe’s study at dawn, though sometimes he was still eating his breakfast so he did something else that would not matter so much if he got crumbs all over it.



And he could not recall having put anything in that diary for today save for a lunch appointment of Erestor’s with the scribe’s own colleagues. Lindir was not invited.



So what was up with the scribe? Aside from the scribe’s dull anthology book.



He thought back to the diary’s entry for the previous few days… and then forward to the next few days…



Or maybe he really had struck a nerve with Erestor with the book. Maybe the book had been dearer to Erestor than he had thought. What anyone would want with an anthology book containing many long and overcomplicated words when the same royalty stories were plastered over almost every single wall space of the realm in big colourful pretty pictures baffled him, though.



His musings were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. Lindir took his fingers out of his mouth, hurriedly ran over to wash and dry them at the wash basin near his desk, then went to the door to pull it open right after the second knock.



He did not recognise the individual standing there. Tall, fair-haired, slender but not weak, extremely handsome with a sort of classical face that Lindir was used to seeing on old-fashioned busts. In spite of his rather plain-coloured blue robes, he looked like a fashion model. He smiled hesitantly at Lindir, as if unsure he had found the right place.



“Can I help you?” Lindir asked.



“Ah,” began the stranger. His accent was strange. Lindir's brow creased.



The backroom door suddenly opened and Erestor stalked forward, a wide smile welcome on his face that was in complete denial of his temper tantrum only minutes ago. Lindir suppressed his intense urge to scowl. Before him, the stranger’s expression relaxed and he smiled broadly.



“Erestor!” he said.



“Lord Annatar,” Erestor said then, coming over to embrace him, “I trust you found this study without too much of a struggle?”



“Not too much of a struggle at all, though I did wonder when I saw this one.” Annatar gestured at Lindir, who had stepped neatly aside and back towards his desk to give them both some room.



“Ah, Lindir, allow me to introduce you to Lord Annatar, a special guest of Lord Celebrimbor’s. Annatar, this is Lindir, my assistant.”



The tall stranger turned back towards Lindir; his laughing eyes widened. “Your assistant! But he looks so young!”



Lindir, feeling awkward under the scrutiny, smiled slightly and inclined his head.



“He is young, but extremely capable at his work,” Erestor said. “Usually.” He shot Lindir a sharp look before returning his attention to Annatar. “Now, what brings you here at this hour?”



“Oh, Celebrimbor informed me that you deal with all of the mail that comes through Eregion.”



“We both do,” Erestor said. “Usually it is Lindir who sorts through it as I am often occupied with other work.”



Annatar turned his brilliant smile back onto Lindir, who felt his face turn red under the once again intense scrutiny. “Is that so? Well, I was wondering if there was any news for me.”



“No, Your Lordship, not today,” Lindir said. “But when there is, it will be delivered to you personally so there will be no need for you to call on us.”



“Oh, and who will be the deliverer,” Annatar asked, his gaze not shifting from him. “You?”



“Ah, not usually me.”



“May I request that it be you?” Annatar’s eyes glittered slightly, but not in an unfriendly manner. Lindir swallowed and looked at Erestor, who nodded agreeably.



“Lindir will be happy to deliver your mail to you,” he said.



“Good. Then with that settled, I would like to move onto my second and reason for disturbing you," Annatar said. He clasped his hands in front of him and looked back at Erestor. "His Lordship informed me that this is where I must call if I have an interest outside of jewel smithery."



Erestor's brow creased. "And what interest might that be, Your Lordship?" he asked.



"Well, I have always had an interest in other cultures and since I came here, that interest has blossomed. So I was hoping that one of you might be able to help me locate the realm's archives on different cultures, especially those cultures located in the eastern and far eastern regions of Middle-earth," Annatar said. He looked about the room. "Do you store your books here?"



"No, there is a library down the hall," Erestor said, "would you like me to show you there?"



"Ah, not at the moment," Annatar said, "I have a lunch appointment and then I am busy with Celebrimbor in the smithies all day; perhaps, if it were not too much trouble though, could I have some books chosen and sent up to my rooms for me by tomorrow night?"



"I will send Lindir to choose and deliver the books," Erestor said. "He will attend to your request tomorrow morning and have the books delivered to your rooms before noon." He gestured towards Lindir, who inclined his head.



"I would be delighted, Your Lordship."



Annatar, smiling broadly, bowed, shot Lindir a wink, and then turned and left the room.



After the door had shut, Erestor turned and looked at him. “Do not be in a hurry to come back to the study tomorrow when you deliver the books to him; he is a formidable favourite of our lord,” he said shortly, then he turned and went back into the back room.



Lindir exhaled heavily. Well, at least I will be out of the study tomorrow, he thought glumly as he walked back to the wash basin to look in the cupboard underneath for some ointment to put on his fingers.



“Lindir, stop now.” Silmo’s voice intervened into the recollection. Lindir blinked. “How would you describe your relationship in Eregion with Sauron?”



We were friends.



“Who befriended who?”



We both befriended each other.



“Why were you interested in befriending him? You were not a jewel smith.”



I was encouraged to befriend him because he was an important foreign guest and because he often called on me to find him books and run him errands. I also enjoyed his company. I suppose I also was a little lonely.



“Lonely?”



I was still a newcomer to Eregion and although I had friends, I had few close ones. Sauron seemed to be in a similar situation.



“Why do you think he befriended you?”



I had hoped it was because he liked me like I liked him.



“And how did you like him?”



I liked him very much.



“How much? More than a friend?”



Yes.



“A lover?”



Yes.



“Did you become lovers?”



No… yes, well not really…



“Why not?”



Well, after I told him that I loved him, we began to sometimes kiss and embrace, but we never went beyond the barest of touches. Not then in Eregion, anyway.



“We will come back to that later. Back to your thoughts on why he befriended you. In hindsight, why do you think he befriended you. Beyond any possibility that he might have done so because he enjoyed your company.”



He did so because I was close to Erestor and by that, close to Celebrimbor. I knew Celebrimbor’s movements, including most of his political movements. I also was vulnerable for the reason I already stated: I was still new to the realm and had few ties with the older residents.



~*~



"It is very quiet over this table. I feel like I am intruding on something private. Am I?" Ecthelion asked, looking between Glingal and Glorfindel who both sat on either side of the narrow tea table on the porch of the courtyard that lined the library. Tea and cakes had been set out before father and son, courtesy of the servants that the King had ordered to attend to them after they had met with him earlier that afternoon, as soon as they had left the place where they had lunched. But neither Glorfindel nor Glingal had touched the food. Nor had they spoken much with one another. Only now, with Ecthelion standing over them, the elf having noticed them on his way out of the library, did they stir to speak.



"No, you are not intruding at all," Glorfindel said. He waved for Ecthelion to pull up a seat and join them. "Lindir was called away to the trial a few hours ago."



"Oh."



"We spoke to Ingwe," Glorfindel continued. Across from him, Glingal stirred and reached out to pour Ecthelion a cup of tea and offer him cake. "He is willing to let us attend the trial as members of the audience."



"So what is the problem?" Ecthelion asked, nodding his thanks to Glingal and nodding again when Glingal silently offered to serve him some cake as well. "Thank you."



"It is nothing important -- quite a petty reason," Glingal supplied, when Glorfindel looked away. "Ingwe will not let us go up there until the end of the week, when he is able to accompany us. We shall only be allowed to stay one day and then, depending on how we feel, he said that we may accompany him at the end of the following week."



Ecthelion nodded slowly, frowning slightly. "How is that a problem?"



"Ecthelion," Glorfindel asked then, "were you allowed to watch your brother when he attended the trial?"



Ecthelion shook his head, slicing a piece of icing off of his cake with his fork. "That question does not apply to me -- I never asked for permission; my brother made it quite clear to me that he had no wish for me to share his memories. Even though I may still hear details of his accounts to the court through hearsay, it is not the same." He raised his fork, then lowered it. "Surely though, even if you are not able to meet with Lindir, you will be able to meet with members of the audience who will be happy to update you on the details of the court that you have missed?"



"So we hope," Glorfindel said. He exhaled heavily.



"But there is still something wrong?"



Glorfindel exchanged a worried look with Glingal, who pulled a sympathetic face, clearly echoing his thought that this was not the half of their problems.



On their way to consult Ingwe, they had attempted to find Laiglas and Linden, to invite them to see the King with them. But on venturing to find them, they had then discovered that Laiglas and Linden had disappeared. And not merely left them as Laiglas had done frequently over the past few weeks, but actually left them. Left without a trace. Their rooms had been vacated, their possessions gone. No messages had been left for them and no one knew to where they had gone. Indeed, save for theirs and the servants' memories of Laiglas and Linden ordering various servants to assist them in carrying their bags out to the carrier that had apparently arrived for them outside the halls borne by elves of unknown origin, it seemed that neither Laiglas or Linden had accompanied them to the halls from Tirion at all.



When they had expressed their concerns to Ingwe, the King had seemed just as uninformed of the situation as them. "I had not heard that they had left," Ingwe had said, and for the first time since they had arrived, the elderly elf had actually looked sympathetic with their distress and confusion. Glorfindel suspected that that was why Ingwe had sent for tea for them, as an expression of his sympathy, though it was very small comfort. He vaguely wondered if this feeling was reminiscent of how Ingwe and his own parents had felt when he had disappeared amongst the crowds of elves who had participated in the kinslaying and then departed for Beleriand. Many of the relatives of those who had left Aman at that time had not known for certain the whereabouts of their kin for many months, years, even centuries after their loved ones had disappeared.



"Could it be, perhaps, that Lindir does not wish for you to see his part in the trial?" Ecthelion asked, drawing Glorfindel forth from his thoughts. Glorfindel blinked and looked back at him.



"He has said nothing definite," he said, raising his hand to rub it over his mouth and chin. His lips felt a little dry; he wondered if they had bothered Lindir earlier when he had kissed him after lunch earlier in the afternoon. "Actually, to tell the truth, we have not discussed the matter at all."



"Really? But you both seemed to be so relaxed about your situation when I last met you all," Ecthelion said, referring to when they had last ate together less than a week ago. He frowned when Glorfindel frowned. "That was not an act that you both put on for me, was it?"



"Nay, well, well... nay," Glorfindel said, frowning when Ecthelion shot him a sceptical look. "Well, we have never discussed his past as a thrall and he seemed so stressed about his situation now that it was impossible to discuss the details of it without an argument so we... just... let it drop and focussed on enjoying our time together without worrying about the trial."



There was a silence. Then Ecthelion shrugged. "I... suppose I understand," he said slowly.



"Well..."



"But it does not sound at all like you," Ecthelion continued, interrupting him. "I never knew you to be patient."



Glorfindel smiled ruefully. So Ecthelion had finally noticed his change in character now, had he? "Before I met Lindir, I, also, did not know that I could be so patient," he said.



"Ho?" Ecthelion smiled.



In the ensuing silence, Glorfindel reached out and filled the cups before him and Glingal -- even if neither of them particularly felt like drinking, it was rude for Ecthelion to be drinking alone.



Presently Ecthelion said, "Well, the way I see it, if Lindir gave you no clue as to whether or not he was happy for you to attend the trial as audience members, then the decision to attend is entirely left up to you."



"And that is why we went to Ingwe and gained his permission," Glingal said. "Though we are disappointed to learn that we may only have one chance a week at most to see Lindir, whether in person or in court."



A servant suddenly appeared through the archway that led back to the passageway outside the library. She came over to them, a silver tray in her hands, and stopped beside Glingal. On it sat a folded and sealed letter.



“A letter for you, Your Lordship,” she said.



“From whom?”



Glorfindel wondered if it were from Lindir or Laiglas. The fact that it was addressed to Glingal, however, strongly suggested that the letter was more likely to have been written by Glingal’s sweetheart.



He was therefore surprised, then, when the maid simply shook her head and replied that she did not know, and Glingal, on picking up the letter and tearing it open, gave a cry of surprise.



“It is from Linden,” he said.



“To my beloved brother Glingal,” he read, “Perhaps you do not remember, but when you very small, I once told you that one day, I and my older brothers might have to…”



At this point he fell silent and though he continued to read as his eyes continued to scan the letter, he did not read it to them. As he read, his brow creased and he swallowed more than once, as if greatly disconcerted.



Finally, at the end, he handed the letter silently to Glorfindel and then leaned back in his chair, his eyes downcast towards the table.



Glorfindel, noting his grave look, picked up the letter and read it silently.



To my beloved brother Glingal,



Perhaps you do not remember, but when you very small, I once told you that one day, I and my older brothers might have to leave you forever. That moment is now. We have left Elvenhome.



I have never had Laiglas's strength. I have always been afraid of who I might be and then, when Laiglas showed me irrefutable evidence, always in denial. But now I have no choice and so, with Laiglas's courage to assist me, and even though I abhor everything about my real father, I have chosen to cast off everything that is false about me. Everything will soon be uncovered and perhaps very soon, you will be in denial that Laiglas, Lindo, and I were and are your siblings. Perhaps that will be a good thing for it will be a time of turmoil for you as well.



Laiglas and I have travelled to the summit of Taniquetil. We have spoken with Lord Manwe who has allowed us, with his compassion, to stay there until the conclusion of the trial or until we wish to leave.



I cannot express the depth of my grief in leaving you and Gloredhel and of course the elf who I will always consider as the father who raised me - Glorfindel - behind. You will always be in my thoughts and held dear to my heart.



Perhaps, should you come to attend the trial, we shall meet one another on the summit. Perhaps you will also understand better then as to why I have made this choice. I hope that you will be able to forgive me.



May the Valar always watch over you, dearest one.



Your sister,



Linden



Glorfindel raised his eyes to look across the table at Glingal, who he noticed had moved and was sitting with his elbows on the table, his face in his hands. “Glingal?”



“I am well,” his son replied. “And yet also extremely unwell.”



Glorfindel swallowed and looked at Ecthelion and the maid, the latter of whom had not moved and was hovering around them as if she had received instructions to listen in on the contents of the letter. “Ecthelion, please forgive us, but Glingal and I must return to our rooms.” He carefully refolded the letter.



Ecthelion nodded and rose. “Of course.”



“Thank you.”