Pen-Estel

Thank you again for your comment, ElenaDiVita - this chapter actually deals with herbs and teas, although for once, it's Erestor who makes an appearance. *g*


Chapter Nineteen

Legolas moaned before he had even fully woken, rolling over until he came to rest almost on top of Elrond who only sighed in his sleep. Legolas nuzzled his neck, still half asleep, although already he was breathless and aroused. Elrond’s scent, the feeling of waking up wrapped around his naked body – all that was familiar to him, and so for a while Legolas chose to remain in this state where he was still half asleep while his body already sought the pleasure he had dreamed of.

Sometimes it felt like he was aroused almost all the time, and his lust became a burden for him, something with which he seemed to constantly be importuning Elrond. But now, sleepy as he was, he did not think of this – he did not even think much about Elrond. All he knew was his lust, his need, and how perfect it felt to have Elrond’s warm body beneath him...

With a little moan he licked over Elrond’s skin, growing harder at the taste of him, and when his hips began to move with rhythmic little thrusts, he moaned again, louder this time, because Elrond’s legs cradled him now, and it felt so natural to be in this position, so perfect... He could feel that Elrond had become aroused as well, and the Lord was not resisting him.

Legolas whimpered against Elrond’s throat, still thrusting helplessly against his Lord, knowing what it was he needed, wanted... and knowing that he was so close to having it.

He was no longer asleep now, and instead of dreams, it was desire that clouded his thoughts. He moaned again, slipping a little further down, unconsciously encouraging Elrond to part his legs – and only when Elrond obliged him and Legolas came to rest in the perfect position did he finally realise what he was doing.

“Oh!” he whimpered, uncertain, torn between his need and the knowledge that he could not do this... And then he found himself rolled to his back, their positions reversed as now a wide-awake Elrond rested on top of him.

Breathless, he looked up at the Lord who smiled and then did what Legolas had done before – move his hips with slow, lazy thrusts against the youth beneath him.

“Good morning, pen neth,” Elrond said with what almost looked like one of Glorfindel’s smirks, and Legolas sighed in helpless surrender, wrapping his legs around Elrond’s hips to encourage the Lord.

Chuckling, Elrond lowered his head to mirror Legolas’ actions a few moments ago, licking at his skin, tasting him. It brought that moment back to the front of his mind, so that he struggled now unconsciously rather than surrender, wanting Elrond beneath him again. Elrond held him down easily though, and Legolas sighed in frustration – because now the Lord would tease him again.

“You will need to be much stronger to hold me down, Legolas,” Elrond observed, and Legolas groaned in dismay. He looked up into Elrond’s eyes, pleading for the Lord not to torment him like this. With his pregnancy out in the open, the time he spent in training with the other youths of Imladris had ended, and he feared that between Elrond and Glorfindel, he would be kept like this. Weak and unable to fight either of them.

They were weighty thoughts, and he couldn’t stay with them long when Elrond moved against him again. His lust took over once more, and now he only wanted the Lord to take him. Anything to ease the ache – he didn’t care which way around they were anymore.

But Elrond only disentangled himself, reaching around to dislodge Legolas’ legs from around him. “Legolas,” he chided good-naturedly, although there was the slightest hint of exasperation in his voice. “Anyone would think you wanted to be hurt.” Elrond took a bottle of oil from the bedside table, while Legolas blushed at his demanding behaviour, and at Elrond’s inference. He was so hot for it he couldn’t even wait for this…

“I am sorry,” he said softly, and then gasped when he felt Elrond’s fingers at his opening, already beginning to prepare him without any preamble. Legolas was grateful for it, even as it made him feel like little more than an object… or a task that Elrond had to perform.

The Lord caught the look in his eyes, and smiled. “Do not take everything so seriously, Legolas,” he advised, and Legolas sighed at the extra advice. He turned his face away in annoyance, but then Elrond was finally touching him inside, and he moaned wantonly, unable to help himself while the Lord efficiently prepared him for what was to come.

But then the movement of his fingers became slower, more teasing, and Legolas closed his eyes before Elrond could see his frustration. “Please,” he begged, and then froze when he felt Elrond’s lips closing over one of his nipples. He kissed Legolas there, who was holding his breath in expectation, wanting and yet not wanting. It was horrible!

“Gîl no longer requires this from you, does he?” Elrond asked softly against that most sensitive part of him, gently nipping with his teeth when Legolas didn’t answer straight away.

“No, my Lord!” Legolas cried out, trying to arch up, to make Elrond suckle as he often did, but hoping he wouldn’t.

Legolas whimpered when Elrond’s fingers left him, but then, just like he had both hoped and feared, the Lord suckled, and pushed into him at the same time.

Legolas arched up with a cry, feeling like he was dying from pleasure – as if he were suspended in a place that was not quite life and not quite death, where nothing but pleasure existed, and the sensation of the hungry mouth drawing on him, the erection that claimed him so deeply, so completely...

He had not wanted Elrond to continue to take his milk from him, not now that Gîl was weaned – he had wanted to look like any other male youth his age, even if soon his chest would swell with milk again for his other child. But how could he protest against pleasure like this? He wanted it to go on and on, he wanted it to never stop until in the end, Arda was unmade!

Then Elrond raised his head and smiled at him, and Legolas moaned because he had not wanted him to stop – even though he had not wanted this.

“Say it,” Elrond said, tormenting him with another teasing thrust that sent another wave of burning pleasure through his body, and Legolas cried out, wrapping his legs around Elrond’s waist once more to be claimed even deeper.

“Please,” he whimpered, “please, please, please,” gasping for breath all the while and arching up again so that Elrond would close his lips around his nipple once more, giving him that unimaginable pleasure he just could not live without.

He sobbed when Elrond took another mouthful of his milk, feeling very weak and helpless all of a sudden, until in the end Elrond kissed him, and the kiss was sweet with the taste of himself.

Then he moaned again and closed his eyes, calmer now but still breathless, still in need of his Lord, and he tried to tighten around Elrond to entice him to take him harder.

Instead of obliging, Elrond rolled them around until Legolas was on top, and encouraged him to move. Legolas threw his head back and moaned in relief now that he could set the pace. Elrond didn’t make it any easier for him, only every now and again moving with him, startling moans from him that way.

Then at last, they began to move together, and it was so deep like this Legolas whimpered, but he didn’t complain. He felt himself growing tighter, and when Elrond began to stroke him, he only withstood a minute or two before he came. He felt Elrond reach completion too, and Legolas leaned forward, his hands resting on either side of the pillow beside Elrond’s head as they recovered. At last, Elrond spoke.

“I think you should resume your training pen neth.” Legolas looked down at Elrond in confusion. “In a limited way, of course. No overexertion.” The way he said that last part sounded almost like a threat, and Legolas swallowed as he stared down at the Lord, shaking his head slightly, a movement that made his hair fall to the side of him, throwing Elrond’s face into shadow. “But a little exercise will do you good in these early stages, pen neth. It might keep the sickness at bay and improve your appetite.”

Legolas nodded complacently, caring for little but the fact that for now he was at peace. The strange lust that seemed to infect him while he was pregnant was dampened for a little while. But then Elrond reached up and ran his fingers over Legolas’ upper arms, and despite the fact that he could feel Elrond inside him – softened now, but still there – that same mood descended on him as earlier when he had first woken, and he had rolled on top of the Lord.

“Archery will probably be less taxing,” Elrond considered, those fingers still moving over his arms, as if testing the muscle there. Legolas gasped, uncertain if Elrond knew what was happening. There was no threat now. He was spent and sated… and yet… “Maybe I will instruct Thalaron to allow you to concentrate on that.”

Elrond continued to look up at him, and for a moment there was a look in his eyes… something different, something Legolas had never seen before. He hardly dared to breathe, but he leaned down without even being aware of it, captured by that look, and the desire to kiss the Lord’s lips. Elrond smiled just before he could do it, and the look vanished. “Won’t that be interesting?”

Oh! Legolas groaned, and instead of kissing Elrond, he buried his head in the Lord’s dark hair. “Tease!” he accused explosively, amazed that he didn’t recognise what submission looked like when it was shown to him, and Elrond laughed deeply, the sound of it vibrating against his ear.

“Will you?” the Lord asked huskily. “I do hope so…” Legolas growled in pure desire, surprising himself, although maybe not Elrond. The Lord held him close and kissed his hair, cradling his head where he rested against Elrond’s neck. Silently, Legolas vowed to become extremely good at archery.

"I will have to bother you again in an hour... and again after that. And it will be all your own fault," Legolas said rebelliously a little while later. "You should not tease me... you know I cannot help myself."

Elrond laughed. "But maybe I like it when you bother me?" Again he kissed Legolas' hair, and again he repeated what he had said earlier. "Do not take everything so seriously, Legolas."

Legolas huffed, feeling mutinous, trying to turn away again – but Elrond did not let him. "I mean it when I say that I like to be bothered by you. Don't feel bad, Legolas," the Lord said warmly. "I was only teasing you - you should know that."

Legolas sighed. "Yes," he agreed reluctantly. "But I know that, right now, when I am like this... I need you far more than you need me."

Elrond chuckled and raised one hand, gently stroking Legolas' hair for a moment. "But Legolas," he reasoned with amusement in his voice, "just because you are more hungry than me does not mean that I do not enjoy the feast! And if there ever comes a day when I am bothered by having my boring paperwork interrupted by a very beautiful, tempting young elf who is offering himself to me - if that day ever arrives, I will resign as Lord of this valley!"

Legolas had to giggle despite himself. "You cannot resign - you are a Lord by birth. And your people would never let you go," he said affectionately, moving back into Elrond's arms with a sigh.

"That only means that there will never come a day when I will not want to have you here in my bed," Elrond whispered into his ear, and Legolas moaned, weakly hitting the Lord's arm.

"Don't! Don't tease me any more than you already do by being so close!"

"Then settle down, Legolas, and let me sleep for an hour. When I have rested, I will see if I can satisfy you once more - and then I will go and speak to Thalaron. Maybe between the two of us, we will finally manage to get you exhausted..."

Legolas shivered at the promise. "One hour, my Lord," he promised, turning his head so it rested on Elrond's shoulder, although he knew that instead of sleep, he would only find daydreams about Elrond waiting for him.

With a sigh, he tried to relax, and just as he had suspected, instead of rest he found himself replaying everything that had happened since he woke up. After some time, it became obvious that Elrond was asleep again, and in these free moments, Legolas took the opportunity to study him.

One of Elrond’s arms was around him, while the other rested lazily over his chest. Legolas reached out and covered Elrond’s hand lightly with his own. The Lord didn’t stir, and so, feeling a little wicked, Legolas moved Elrond’s arm away. That drew a reaction. Elrond turned his head in his sleep, towards Legolas. It was so tempting to just touch, and Legolas did. Running one finger over Elrond’s shoulder and the line of his collarbone, before resting the palm of his hand flat against Elrond’s chest.

He stayed still for a few moments, feeling the vibration of Elrond’s heartbeat beneath his palm. It made the Lord seem delicate somehow, so that he felt he wanted to protect him, ridiculous as that seemed, and he didn’t know if he liked that or not. After some thought he decided that he did like it, and he smiled secretly at the Lord.

But then he remembered their conversation afterwards, and he shivered when he remembered what Elrond had said. …there will never come a day when I will not want to have you here in my bed… But there must come such a day! Legolas felt his eyes fill with tears, and these were not the useless tears he had shed so many times before. He felt a lump in his throat, and he realised that despite everything, and no matter how friendly Glorfindel was towards him – he was expecting to gain his Lord back. For a moment the possibility he had avoided crushed him. What if he and Glorfindel were meant to lose each other?

Elrond knew some of what had happened between them, although not all. He didn’t know of the game. Hunter and hunted. He didn’t know just how often Glorfindel pursued him, and he didn’t know the public nature of their couplings. But there were times when he had to admit to it, because of marks Glorfindel had left, or because he simply didn’t have time to bathe before Elrond came upon him, covered with the scent of sex… and Glorfindel. The two belonged together. Just as they did. They did belong together… didn’t they?

He didn’t realise how many of the tears had escaped him until he felt Elrond stir and a hand came up to cradle his face.

“Legolas?” the Lord asked in concern. “What is it?” He looked at Elrond, and he knew that the Lord desired him, wanted him, perhaps even loved him in a way, however much he denied it. But he couldn’t help it.

“I want Glorfindel,” he answered desolately, and felt Elrond pulling him closer as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry, my Lord.”

“Don’t apologise for that, Legolas, please.” There was something strange in Elrond’s voice, and Legolas opened his eyes to see what it was. He caught his breath immediately. Was it guilt? It puzzled him but then almost immediately the look was gone, and in its place was a more familiar kind of sympathy. Elrond sighed. “Glorfindel will come to his senses, Legolas. He must.”

The reassurance was given in the same authoritative way as ever, but now Legolas wondered. Because Elrond had sounded just as sure earlier that he wouldn’t want to let him go. The contradiction meant that one of them was a lie… or worse. It meant that whatever Elrond said – he didn’t know what would come either. There was no reassurance then. But still, Legolas calmed as Elrond cuddled him, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind again.

Later that day, after they had had breakfast and Legolas had played a few hours with Gîl, he once again found himself with free time. It was the hour before the midday meal, and Gîl had been put to bed for a nap with the nurse watching him, while Elrond and Glorfindel would both still be busy with their work until they came to the table.

It was not really enough time for a ride, but Legolas did not want to spend his time alone outside in the gardens either. Recently, he had found himself pondering a problem again, that – with the shock of his sudden second pregnancy – he had almost forgotten about. He did not feel comfortable asking Elrond about it for many reasons. It was not because he was ashamed, but because this problem was his, in a way neither Elrond nor Glorfindel could ever understand. If he asked Elrond, the Lord would only be hurt, and Legolas didn’t want that. But he had to find out about it for his own sake.

Maybe he should talk with a woman about it – but then, a woman could not truly understand either, and simply the thought of doing so made him uncomfortable as well. This might be a female area of expertise... but he was no woman.

He was a male who could bear a child. And the problem was that there was nobody else like him - no one he could ask about how it worked. And most importantly - ask about a way to prevent himself from conceiving again, after giving birth once more.

No, he could not ask Elrond, even if he knew. He was looking forward to becoming a father, and how would it seem if Legolas were to ask about such a thing as this? Elrond must never know.

There were no elves like him among the Noldor; all the Lord could go by in his treatment of Legolas was his experience with female pregnancies and the stories he had heard about this trait, which had been thought little more than a myth by most Noldor until Legolas arrived in Imladris. But that had proved to be good enough so far…

Legolas resolved to find out as much about this as possible by himself. He was the one it concerned... and maybe, one day, he would have a son who would be in need of that knowledge. The thought did not please him – and how could it, after all the pain he had to go through? Yet still, there was the possibility that he might give this trait to a future child, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Legolas sighed, then got up from his place at the window. It was not just curiosity – it was his responsibility to find out more about this. And there was really only one place to start...

It wasn’t all that unusual for him to be in the library, but he still felt as though he was sneaking when he wandered casually inside. He needn’t have bothered. The meeting that took Elrond and Glorfindel away from him was still going on, and so many that might have been in here were otherwise occupied.

Quietly, Legolas made his way around the shelves, his eyes widening as he read the spines of the books, trying to understand them. Most of them weren’t written in languages he understood. He sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

He wandered aimlessly around the shelves, becoming frustrated and disheartened the more he searched. This was impossible! How would he ever even begin? He sighed again in despair, and looked around him, only to see Erestor looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

The meeting hadn’t taken him away then… Legolas shook his head in annoyance and ignored the advisor, turning his attention back to the books. Whenever he had wanted something before, either Glorfindel or Elrond had found it out for him. Now he felt completely lost.

He was gladdened when he spied the title of a book he could understand, and the subject matter seemed promising – it was about herbs. He took the book from the shelf and leafed through it a little way, unable to avoid sighing again when he saw that it was going to be no help to him. This was not a healing or medicinal book, but some kind of general interest book, which said a lot at the same time as it said nothing at all.

“Is there something in particular you are looking for?” an amused voice asked behind him, and Legolas nearly dropped the book in his haste to put it back. He turned to find that Erestor had walked over to him, and his old fear returned momentarily. It was like being caught out, and for a second or two, Legolas just stared at Erestor, wondering what to say.

Erestor rolled his eyes and walked away again, and shook his head as if berating himself for wasting his time. Legolas was accustomed to being pursued, and so it surprised him that Erestor had given up so easily – especially when he needed to know so badly… When he was on the verge of calling out, Erestor looked back at him.

“Why don’t you come to me when you have given up?” he suggested with a smirk, and all of sudden Legolas was angry. He watched Erestor walk back to his desk and take his seat without even looking back once. Well – he didn’t need Erestor’s help anyway! How difficult could this be? With a new found sense of determination, Legolas turned back to the endless, confusing array of books and scrolls.

Soon the small amount of time he had was gone, and he hadn’t managed to find out anything. He didn’t even know where to start. But it was time for him to see Thalaron, and discuss what time he would need to spend on exercise during the day.

When he stole into the library the next day, he still didn’t find what he was looking for. Between his archery, and the time he spent with Elrond, Gîlríon, and Glorfindel, he squandered every free minute in the library – but it amounted to nothing. All the time, he was aware of the looks Erestor threw his way – but the advisor didn’t offer to help him again.

Eventually, after about a week, Legolas considered the certainty that Erestor would know where to find anything. The next day, instead of wasting time wandering lost and bewildered around the shelves, he found himself walking to stand before Erestor’s desk. He cleared his throat nervously, understanding that he was about to ask for help, and expecting to be taunted over it. Erestor looked up questioningly.

“I need to find something,” Legolas admitted, looking away from Erestor’s eyes. “A subject…” For the first time he wondered if an interest in herbs and medicines would give him away, and he could almost hear his heart beating. But then, no… It was an innocent enough request. He watched from under his eyelashes while Erestor folded his arms and sat back in his chair.

“Well?” Erestor demanded then. “Will you tell me which subject you are interested in? I fear that without that kind of information, I will not be able to help you.”

Legolas swallowed. “Medicine.... medicine, and herbs,” he said in a firm voice, staring at Erestor without flinching, waiting for a snide comment, a taunt – but none came.

Legolas grew insecure then after all, lowering his eyes to Erestor’s desk while he wondered if this might not actually be the way Erestor had chosen to taunt him – by making him ask only to not answer.

But then Erestor finally spoke, and Legolas realised that it had only been a short moment during which he had been silent.

“Medicine, and herbs? You do realise that you are in the household of a master healer? All the shelves to my left side over there are about medicine, and there are tomes about medicinal plants among them. If your interest goes more in the direction of gardening, though, then you should go to the shelf there on the right side – the one closest to the window. Of course, then there are also herbs used in cooking – but that is not what you are interested in, is it?”

Legolas flushed now despite himself at Erestor’s heavy sarcasm. “No, I am not,” he said, but nothing more, already looking towards the shelves that contained the medicinal section of the library. So many books – he could not read them all! How would he ever find what he wanted? “Of course,” Erestor said slowly, and when Legolas looked up he saw that he was smiling at him, a slow smile that, while not really malicious, was not all too friendly either.

“Of course, nearly everybody who comes here and searches for a specific subject uses the index cards – but terms like medicine and herbs will not get you very far there, I fear.”

“I recommend you go and think some more about what it is you are actually looking for, and if you find out – use the index cards. It is easy... even a child can do it,” Erestor said in such a way that made it all too clear that in his eyes, Legolas was nothing but a child – and a spoilt child at that who had not learned to respect his betters.

At those words, hope stirred in Legolas. He hadn’t given Erestor a clear idea of what he was looking for – but he did know. His gaze slid across the library to the myriad of small drawers the advisor had indicated. The answer was in there somewhere, and Legolas smiled unconsciously, already itching to go over and make a start. What did it matter what Erestor thought? At the last moment, he turned to face the advisor again.

“Thank you,” he said automatically, the smile still on his lips, and then strode towards the index, not even noticing Erestor’s surprise.

Legolas quickly found the first subject he was interested in, and he made a little den for himself in a disused and secluded part of the library. He took a small desk for his own, and began to read, taking selective notes at the same time.

As it turned out, Imladris had very few books about the specific subject of elven pregnancy and associated medicinal treatments. Elrond himself had written two of the four, and none of them contained the kind of information he was looking for.

Where was it then? Beginning again, fearing to have missed something, Legolas combed through the books for any mention of herbs that would affect fertility.

After only a short while, Legolas realised he was going to have to understand medicinal herbs to make sense of whatever he found. Which ones were for treatment of pain and injury? Which ones altered the body’s inner workings? He thought that if he knew the answers to these questions, then he would be better placed to begin finding a solution, and so his attention turned from pregnancy, to the simplest books about medicine Elrond possessed.

But it was a long and difficult road he had chosen, and although Elrond had a fantastic collection of books – it became clear to him that he was not equal to the task he had set himself. Many of the texts that he knew he would find most helpful were written in languages he didn’t understand, and it infuriated him. How would he ever do this alone?

Yet there was nothing for it. With a defeated air, Legolas went back to the beginning again – this time using the index to find books on language. There weren’t many of these either. Invariably, a person who wanted to learn a language would have a teacher, and so most of what Imladris had to offer was companion volumes full of simplified texts for the student to translate.

Back at his desk again, Legolas stared at the foreign-looking words in abject helplessness. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and looked over in that direction immediately. Erestor stared back at him, his eyes slightly narrowed, and Legolas realised that the advisor was actually curious about what he was doing here. Now he had seen it, he couldn’t unsee it, and he turned back to the book before him with a slight smile, his own frustration momentarily forgotten.

Erestor may be curious, but nothing had changed between them. Every time Legolas entered the library, he was still met with a glare of disapproval. But that waned when Legolas ignored Erestor to pursue his hasty education, and he began to suspect that Erestor was not insulted by his ignorance – after all, Erestor wasn’t interested in him – but rather was intrigued by it. Admiration was too strong a word certainly, but respect? There was a certain amount of respect between them now, even if they didn’t like each other.

From then on, he would catch Erestor looking at him off and on throughout his spare time in the library. At first it was amusing, but it quickly became an annoyance when he was headachy and tired, frustrated from trying to understand the impossible. He knew that Erestor watched his selections – but he didn’t fear whatever the advisor thought he knew. He was a fertile male – it was inevitable that he would one day read all the library could offer in the way of information about his condition.

Yet still, despite all his work in the library, he did not make much progress. He certainly knew a lot about female pregnancies now, and he was beginning to acquire a basic understanding of herb lore, but the more he got to know about all the different uses of medicinal herbs, the more he also understood how a false administration might be dangerous. He would need to know a lot more about this subject...

With a sigh, he rested his head on his arms for a moment, closing his eyes in frustration. The text he was reading lead nowhere... maybe he should just give up. He was beginning to suspect that he would have more success with tomes about human medicine. Of course! Legolas cursed himself for his stupidity. Unlike elves, for whom children were a rare gift of the Valar, mortal women seemed to get pregnant all the time. If anyone knew about herbs to prevent this, then it should be them. And surely this was what Elrond had meant all that time ago.

There were no mortal women around whom Legolas could ask, and even if there were – Legolas did not think that he would dare it anyway. Books on the other hand, books there were many, and from the index cards, Legolas knew that there were books about pregnancy among them. The knowledge must be in one of them. Yet these books were written in Westron, and while Legolas had begun to study Quenya with Glorfindel, they had so far kept to the one language.

Maybe he should ask Elrond for a teacher. He still had several long months before him until his second child would be born – that should be enough time for at least a basic understanding of the language of edain. It would not be perfect, and there would certainly be lots of words he would not understand, but at least it would be enough to maybe grasp the most important facts from this book.

Legolas sighed, and then wearily raised his head again. A quick look back showed him that once again, Erestor had been watching him, and Legolas grinned when he thought about how he should maybe ask Erestor. He no longer believed that Erestor would use this knowledge to taunt him – after all, it was widely known that Erestor was rather prudish when it came to bodily pleasures. For once, it would not be Legolas then who would be embarrassed, but Erestor.

Legolas giggled tiredly when he imagined the look on Erestor’s face. He almost wished that he would be courageous enough to actually do it – but then, it would not be a very nice thing to do, and Legolas knew well enough what it felt like to be taunted. And after all, he could not chance to be thrown out of the library – this was the only place where he could find what he needed, even if he had resigned himself to the fact that it could very well take years.

When the advisor walked away again, Legolas leaned forward and rested his head against the desk once more. While he didn’t care much whether Erestor watched him or not, he didn’t want the advisor to see his utter despair. Somehow he knew that he would be taunted for that… A noise from behind him made him start to sit up again, shocked that he wasn’t alone, but then a large, familiar hand held him down by the back of the neck.

In the back of his mind, he had been half-expecting this, and yet now it was here he still didn’t know what to do about it. In panic he stared towards the open part of the library, where at any moment Erestor might appear again.

“My Lord!” he said weakly, willing Glorfindel not to take him here – but he already knew he had lost.


To be continued...