Erestor's Secret

Title: Erestor’s Secret (15/?)
Author: Aglarien
Type: FPS
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel, Galdor/Dringion (OMC), Ecthelion/Thoniel (OFC)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, except for the cats. The great Master Tolkien’s estate owns everything else. I promise to return his elves when I’m done playing with them.
Timeline: Gondolin, 501 of the First Age
Warning: AU.
Beta: Phyncke. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.
Summary: Nestoron is agitated and there is a wedding to prepare for.
A/N: If you recall, Thoniel’s mother is Galdor’s niece, and her father is Galdor’s seneschal. In this story, the seneschals are the head of the household and in charge of domestic arrangements and the servants, and have no military duties.

Chapter 15

Erestor surprised both Ecthelion and Glorfindel and rested quietly after his breakfast, even falling into a deep sleep. Ecthelion set things in motion for the wedding that evening, giving instructions to the servants for the decorations in the garden and the feast afterward. Once Galdor and Dringion had given their consent, messengers were dispatched to the seneschals of both the House of the Tree and the House of the Golden Flower, bidding them to send clothing and rings, and more importantly, to attend the weddings. Once everything was set in motion, Ecthelion departed from the house to call upon the king.

Glorfindel left the sleeping Erestor with Nestoron when the healer arrived to check on his patient, wanting to see for himself how Dringion fared. The former guard’s face was spectacular in its still vivid discoloration. His eyes were surrounded with purple and black and the broken nose was swollen, but none of it dimmed the light that had returned to Dringion. It would take many days before the graying, brittle hair returned to its former dark glory and the battered face healed, but neither he nor Galdor seemed to care. Galdor and Dringion were both greatly moved by the offer to hold their wedding that evening in Ecthelion’s garden. They had accepted gladly, for after the turn of recent events it would not be fitting for them to hold a public ceremony. As Galdor’s only remaining family, Thoniel’s parents would officiate at his wedding and pronounce the blessing. Satisfied that all was well, he left the newly bonded couple in Thoniel’s care and returned to watch over Erestor’s sleep.

Erestor slept peacefully through the morning until Glorfindel finally woke him just before luncheon to drink more of the healing tea that Nestoron has ordered. Ecthelion returned with the expected news of the king’s consent to the wedding, and the three elves and one small black kitten sat together over their meal.

“I really do feel much better,” Erestor said. “I should very much like to stand beside you this evening, Glorfindel, instead of lying down on the chaise.”

“No!” three voices exclaimed together, the third belonging to Ecthelion’s chief healer standing in the doorway. Nestoron had returned to check on his patient again and was just in time to hear Erestor’s words. “It has barely been two days, Master Erestor! Two days! You will *not* get up, you will *not* stand! Do you not realize how injured you were? How injured you still are?” The healer paced and fumed, angry over the news he had heard from all over the house. “You will stay in that bed until I say you may leave it! We do not yet even know if you will have any lasting effect from your head injury. The only reason you are not feeling ill is because of the tea you have been drinking, and the only reason you are feeling better is because you slept all morning! You are still as weak as that kitten!” As if on cue, Mordithen stretched and then curled up at the foot of the bed to sleep.

“Yes, Nestoron,” Erestor said meekly. He and Ecthelion had known the healer their entire lives and looked upon him as a member of their family. The healer might sometimes be gruff and excitable, but they knew it was because he cared for them deeply. Nestoron’s word in matters of health was law.

“It was bad enough that you were moved for a bath yesterday!” Nestoron said, glaring at Glorfindel. “And now what do I hear but talk of a wedding! A wedding? And in the garden, no less!” He threw his arms up in frustration and stomped around the room for long moments, trying to regain his composure, before finally standing and looking sternly at Erestor and Glorfindel.

“Nestoron,” Glorfindel said softly, “I promise you I will do nothing to hurt Erestor – ever. I do realize that he is not healed yet.”

“Lord Glorfindel,” Nestoron began emphatically, “you cannot… Erestor cannot be… If you…” the healer stammered. “Master Erestor’s broken leg and arm cannot be moved,” he finally said. “It goes against all my best judgment to allow this!”

Erestor reached for the hand closest to his free one, which happened to be Ecthelion’s at the moment, and clenched it tightly. His eyes pleaded with his brother to intervene.

Ecthelion squeezed Erestor’s hand in reassurance. He did not know, or want to know, what Glorfindel planned, but he had implicit trust that his friend would never hurt Erestor.

“I understand, Nestoron,” Glorfindel said solemnly, his eyes meeting the healer’s. “Erestor’s leg and arm will not be moved or harmed in any way. You have my word. I will not hurt him.”

Nestoron gazed into Glorfindel’s eyes for a long moment and then finally nodded once. “Very well. I shall take you at your word.”

Erestor breathed a sigh of relief. “Glorfindel was very careful when he bathed me, Nestoron, and I lay on the chaise so it was not a real bath. I was hoping for another this…afternoon…if you…agree…that is…” Erestor’s voice faltered as the healer glared at him.

Nestoron huffed and turned to Ecthelion. “Master Erestor will be carried to the garden on a litter to prevent any impact to his leg or arm. He will be placed on a chaise longue and will remain recumbent until it is time to return to his room, at which time he will be carried here, again on a litter.”

Ecthelion nodded. “It will be done.”

“It will be done because I will be here to see to it myself.” The healer took a deep breath and turned to Erestor, this time with a small smile twitching at his lips. “And yes,” he said softly, “you may have another bath, since you have already managed one without harm. I would do it myself, but I suppose you prefer Lord Glorfindel over your old healer.”

Erestor gifted the healer with a blinding smile. “Thank you,” he said softly. “You will be at my wedding, won’t you Nestoron?”

The healer huffed. “Of course I will be there. Did you think I would miss it?” He gazed fondly at his young patient. Erestor really was a treasure. If Glorfindel ever did hurt him, he would have more people to answer to than just Ecthelion. He sighed, feeling all at once a bit too old for all of this. With a mention of going to see if he could repair any of the damage Glorfindel and Ecthelion had caused to Dringion’s face, he turned and left the room.

~~~*~~~

Glorfindel gently bathed Erestor’s body as the smaller elf lay upon the chaise, this time not bothering to shield his eyes from the sight before him. The soapy cloth moved along Erestor’s free arm, and then stopped to gently caress the sensitive spot on the inside of his elbow.

“Do you remember the time when I was little and Thel was gone on a patrol for weeks?” Erestor asked. “You came to help take care of me. He didn’t want me to be in the care of only the servants for so long and you came nearly every night. I can remember you giving me baths.” The cloth moved over a shoulder, and with a gentle touch, glided along the shapely neck.

“I remember,” Glorfindel said, recalling those days with fondness. “You were such a sweet little elfling. I would set you on my lap as we sat before the fire after your bath and I would read to you.”

Erestor gasped as the cloth crept down his chest, circling a rosy nipple seductively. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and he felt blood rush to his groin. “And when I was scared, you stayed with me in my little bed and held me through the night. It could not have been very comfortable for you.”

“It was more than comfortable,” Glorfindel replied as he rinsed the cloth in warm, soapy water. The cloth slowly moved up Erestor’s unbandaged leg. “I loved to hold you even then, and you loved to cuddle into my arms. You smelled so sweet and were so soft.”

The cloth slipped slowly along the inside of Erestor’s thighs, and the young elf nearly purred. “I am sorry that Nestoron will not allow our physical joining until my leg is healed,” he whispered. “It is not fair for you to have to wait.”

“Shhhh…” Glorfindel whispered. The cloth dropped to the floor and he leaned up to press a soft kiss to Erestor’s lips. As his hand wrapped around Erestor’s awakening member, he deepened the kiss, caressing Erestor’s tongue with his own.

~~~*~~~
Glorfindel entered the room where his trusted friend and seneschal, Sadron, awaited him, along with Amareth, his lady wife. “Thank you for coming, my old friend,” he said, clasping the older elf’s shoulder in greeting. Sadron was the closest thing he had to family left in Gondolin, and had been with Glorfindel’s father since before his birth. The seneschal and his wife had helped raise him, and he had many fond memories of their loving care. Together, Sadron and Amareth now oversaw the running of his house. “Will you and Amareth stand for me at the ceremony and pronounce the blessing?” he asked.

“Need you even ask, Glorfindel?” Sadron replied, his face alight with a brilliant smile. “Your father would be proud of you this day,” he said softly. “An alliance between the Houses of the Flower and the Fountain is not one to take lightly, and by all accounts Erestor is as kind as he is wise.”

“And he is also very beautiful,” Amareth added with a smile. “The whole house is abuzz with the news and looking forward to your bringing our new lord home when he is healed, accursed be the name of the one who caused his injury.”

“Amareth,” Glorfindel said quietly, taking her hand, “Erestor has befriended Dringion, as Ecthelion and I have also done. He and Galdor are to be wed this evening. Much has happened in the past two days.” He knew he had to step lightly where Amareth was concerned, for Sadron’s wife was still as protective of him now as she had been when he was but a child. “But I must begin to prepare for this evening so I will tell you the story as I bathe, and then you can show me what you have brought for me to wear.”

“Very well,” Amareth said with a sigh. “It had better be a good story,” she added firmly.

Glorfindel hid a grin as he moved into the bathroom where servants had already prepared a bath. As he quickly bathed, he began the long and involved story, continuing it as he sat in a simple lounging robe before a dressing table and Amareth arranged the top and sides of his hair into elaborate braids, weaving sapphires and golden beads in the shape of flowers into the long tresses.

“That is quite a story,” Sadron said as Glorfindel finished his tale. “I almost begin to feel sorry for him.”

Amareth snorted. “He still injured our Lord’s betrothed and might have caused his death.”

“Wait until you see him with Galdor, then you will understand,” Glorfindel responded. He took Amareth’s hands into his own and looked up into her eyes. “You will be kind to him for Erestor’s sake?” he asked. “It would upset him greatly if you were not.”

“Yes, of course I will,” Amareth said quietly, smiling down at Glorfindel as he sat before her. “You know my bark is always worse than my bite anyway.” She patted Glorfindel’s hand. “Your hair is finished, so up with you and into your robes.”

Glorfindel silently donned a golden, floor length tunic. Over it he wore a surcoate of deep blue shot with gold, like a night sky glittering with golden starlight. On his feet were ankle boots of soft, dark blue leather. Telling the story of Dringion and Galdor had kept any nervousness at bay, but now he felt as though thousands of butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach. He silently reached for his circlet when Sadron offered it, and arranged it on his brow. Satisfied that he was ready, he asked, “What have you brought for Erestor’s gifts?”

Sadron lifted a wooden box from where he had laid it on the bed in the room and handed it to Glorfindel. “I thought you might approve of this,” he said. “It should fit Erestor nicely.”

Glorfindel smiled, recognizing the box, and nodded as he opened it. “Yes. It will be perfect for him and it is fitting that he should wear her circlet.” His fingers flitted over the golden circlet in the box, stopping here and there to trace the golden flowers that sprang from its well polished curves. “My mother would be pleased to see this passed on to him.”

“She would be very happy for you, Glorfindel,” Amareth said quietly, “and it will look beautiful on Erestor. We thought of bringing one of your parents’ jewels as his wedding gift from your family, but since Sadron and I planned on standing in place of your parents whether you asked us to or not, we decided to give him a new jewel.”

Glorfindel chuckled at Amareth’s words and then said, “May I see it?”

Sadron picked up a second, smaller box. “We were fortunate that we ordered it from the jewelers when you told us you were courting Erestor, or it would not have been ready. It combines the golden flower of our house to the diamonds of his.” Opening the box, he displayed a brooch of a golden flower with a large diamond set in the center. “Do you think he will like it?”

“I am sure he will love it, my friends,” Glorfindel said. The diamond sparkled, its clarity reflected in the gold. “Thank you – both of you. It is beautiful.” He beamed at his friends. “I do not know how to thank you – for everything.”

“It is our pleasure, my lord,” Sadron answered with a grin. “We thought it fitting for your husband, and I am happy it pleases you.”

“It pleases me very much,” Glorfindel said, enveloping his old friends in an embrace. After a long moment, he lowered his arms and took a deep breath. “You have the rings, Sadron?”

“Safely in my pocket,” the seneschal answered.

”Then it is time for us to go to the gardens and await my future mate,” Glorfindel said.

~tbc

Sadron: Faithful
Amareth: Maiden of the earth