The Wrong Path

Title: The Wrong Path
Author: erviniae
Chapter 14/?
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
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.



Lothwen entered their chambers hurriedly; she had delayed longer than usual and wished to bathe before Erestor retired for the night. Her heart was heavy. She longed to be with Glorfindel, but her loyalties, she knew, should lie with her husband. This secret was wearing her down. She found herself looking over her shoulder all the time. The rooms were dark, illuminated only by that strange twilight when the sun has set but the dark is not quite sure it wants to make its appearance yet. As she neared the door to the bathing chamber, she was startled by a familiar voice, her heart immediately made a leap to leave her chest as her voice already did so. “Lothwen,” was the call that was neither accusing nor surprised to see her.

“My-my lord, why are you sitting in the dark? You startled me.” Her hand rested over her heart as her chest rose and fell swiftly and deeply.

“I would ask you once more a question I put to you many years ago.” With a deep sigh, Erestor stood and slowly walked the short distance between them. “Do you regret this marriage?” His eyes never left hers while watching her face as it mimicked the struggle waging war within her.

“I, I do not regret the years I have been your wife for you have taken good care of me.” Lothwen’s eyes began to well with unshed tears. “You have blessed me with a wonderful son,” here she smiled while thinking of Melpomaen, adding, “I could not ask for a better father for my child.” She began to visibly shake to his dismay.

He gestured for her to sit and as she did so he fetched a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. Gladly accepting it, she sipped it eagerly while collecting her courage. “But yes, “ she barely spoke above a whisper, “I, I do regret our marriage, forgive me, but I do.” This statement unleashed the tears that slowly began to fall down her cheeks.

Erestor closed his eyes to that revelation. Why it affected him so much confused him: for wasn’t he ready to leave her a lifetime ago in Gondolin? Wasn’t he ready to make a life for himself with Ecthelion as far away from that tyranny as possible? She deserved love - and yet he felt betrayed. Betrayed by her, by Glorfindel, by Ecthelion and by his father. That last thought startled him; he hadn’t thought of his father in millennia. He held such animosity towards him that he never thought that Calimion, too, was a victim of the rules they lived by in Gondolin.

“Ecthelion and I were lovers.” He crouched down in front of her as he suddenly blurted this out.

“I know.” She replied.

“You knew?” Erestor said aloud not so much as a question but as a surprise of sorts. Running a hand through his dark hair he decided to continue, he was tired of lies and of hiding. “You knew.” He nodded as he continued to speak, almost finding it amusing. “We were going to leave Gondolin, leave you all his riches and all that we received on our wedding. We were to set out the day we were attacked.”

This time the emotions welled within Lothwen. He was going to leave? She felt betrayed by the very idea. “Why did you agree to wed me?”

“Your uncle alleged if I did not, then he would expose us,” Erestor said so with sadness, knowing that revealing this would hurt her.

“I see,” she whispered and looked down at her hands that were folded upon her lap. Thinking of their wedding night, and the whole awkwardness of it, she suddenly realized just how hard it must have been for him to lay with her.

“The Valar forsook us.” She whispered angrily.

“You mustn’t speak ill of the Valar, we make our on beds to lie in.” Erestor arose to look out upon the growing darkness blanketing the quieting vale.

Still with his back to her, he spoke clearly, sadness invoked from his tone, “I saw you with Glorfindel this day, behind the falls.”

A gasp was heard in the stillness behind him. “You love him.” It was not an accusation, just a need to say it out loud. To give it weight.

“I do.”

“He loves you.”

“Yes.”

“Whatever shall be done?” She quietly asked, fear heard in the quiver of her voice.

“That, I do not know.” He then whispered low as if to himself, “it seems there is much I do not know.” Turning suddenly, he walked past her and directly out of their chambers.

She watched him leave and as the door closed behind her husband, the tears fell fast and hard.

Erestor walked with a swift stride throughout the halls not caring whom he passed. He returned neither a gesture nor a smile to those who tried to catch the counselor’s attention. His feet took him to the familiar path towards the library, and as he turned to his right he saw Glorfindel up ahead making way towards the dining hall, no doubt. He adjusted his tread and quickly found himself before the Captain of Imladris.

Glorfindel raised a hand as if to greet Erestor but stopped mid-gesture; something was not right in the counselor’s eyes-a wild look to them that he had never seen before. Erestor stopped before him and in a moment too swift to be seen, found himself on the receiving end of a rather unexpected fist. Falling backwards, Glorfindel landed hard against a pillar, his head shaking in surprise. Upon opening his eyes, he only saw the diminishing back with long flowing dark tresses flying wildly about as the figure of Erestor retreated down the stairs to the library.

Elves ran to Glorfindel’s side in shock, but the captain shrugged them off, “So… he knows.” All in attendance before Glorfindel, heard this, and with his appetite rapidly failing him, he left for his rooms.


Within the sanctity of the library, Erestor began his mad search of any scroll or tome that he could find on the rules of the Elvish world- and of the various realms: he was determined to never be found uninformed again. Hours later, as he lost all track of time, he heard the sound of a throat clearing before him. Looking up he found the gray eyes of his Lord Elrond.

“Do you wish to talk my friend? I feel there is much muddled around you.” Elrond bit into the apple he had in his hand as he sat on the dais before Erestor. He was dressed without robes as it was late at night and he was near to retire.

“You heard?” Erestor sighed as he previewed the disarray of scrolls around him.

“Well, yes, it is not everyday that my captain is accosted by my right hand.” An eyebrow rose in mirth.

“Whatever are you searching for?” Elrond gestured to the scrolls in mayhem about the room.

“Everything.” Was the sincere reply.

“Hmm, that is no small task.” Elrond patted the space next to him. “Come, sit.”

Erestor did so willingly. Stretching his long legs he took the rest of the apple offered to him and bit deeply. Hours passed swiftly as only time has a way of doing whenever important things are being done or said; such as being held within a lover’s embrace or listening to the sweet sound of a child’s laughter.

Elrond spoke very little but listened attentively- knowing that unleashing his story and feelings was something that Erestor had needed to do for a very long time-even as time concerns an Elf. As birds began to chirp their morning songs and the smell of baking bread filled the early morning air; mixing with the gentle dew, the valley began to stir with life and with it the Elf that had been sitting behind the two, stirred. He had been absorbed in the tale of the two most cherished Elves in his life. Elrond knew he was there-knew that Melpomaen deserved to hear the tale without Erestor having to repeat the account once more.

“What of Melpomaen, my dearest friend, will you tell him?” Elrond rubbed circles along his counselor’s back in comfort.

“Yes, he must know all truths, he must know that I do love his mother and that he is a blessing to us both. He has given me the greatest joy in my life.” Erestor slowly stood, his legs protesting from being moved from their too long held position. As he did so, he turned to face the gardens and gasped audibly at seeing his son standing before him.

“How long have you been there?”

“All night.” Melpomaen moved towards his father. “I came looking for you when you had not shown in the hall for evening meal and mother said that you were not in your room.

“I confess that it is much to contemplate, however, it answers many questions from my childhood. Whenever I was within one of my friend’s chambers, I saw that their parents shared but a single room, whilst you each had your own.”

Erestor pulled Melpomaen into a strong embrace. “My son, forgive me, forgive us, we did our best with what we had.”

“Father, you have ever shown me love. What more could anyone hope for?”

Holding his son at arms length, Erestor just wondered at the compassion of his child. “I am blessed to have you my child. Come, let us greet your mother and ease her worry.”

Before they left, Erestor turned to Elrond and bowed before him. “Thank you.”

Elrond waved a hand in dismissal, but before Erestor left, he called after him: “Erestor, there is but one thing.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You will have my library in order today, yes?” Twinkling gray eyes spoke into his.

“Of course, my lord.” Erestor smirked as Elrond watched father and son walk up the stairs and out of his sight.



TBC……

Calimion- Bright Son (Q)