The Wrong Path

Title: The Wrong Path
Author: Erviniae
Chapter 22/22
Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path”
For the Hall of Books challenge
Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Erestor/OFC, 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.

Gossip flies fast. It was no different here in Tuná. In two days time, all knew of the scene in the main square between Erestor and Lord Ecthelion. Erestor held his head high as he went about his stay with Elrond and his grandparents. No servant dared say anything untoward in the presence of their lord and lady’s guest. Tonight would be their last night before returning home, to which a huge dinner party would be thrown in honor of Elrond and his coming to Valinor. King Turgon and his wife, Lady Elenwë would be in attendance for their great-grandson’s event. Many noble Elves as well were invited to this special affair.

The dinner was held in the great garden of King Turgon’s home. Long tables were set in rows perpendicular to the main table which held Idril, Tuor, Turgon, Elenwë, Elrond, Celebrían and Erestor. The feast was massive. The servants brought out many dishes to serve their hungry guests: soups, pheasant, fish, venison, cheeses and wine flowed in abundance. Desserts of pies and fruits sated every belly at the reception until near bursting. Conversation flowed easily and more than one glance lingered on the face of Elrond’s faithful friend. King Turgon stood and banged an ornate spoon against his empty wine glass to bring attention upon himself. All eyes looked toward him in eager anticipation of what was to come next.

“Friends and family," Turgon looked around the garden of curious faces until his eyes came to rest upon Elrond’s.

“My son, I welcome you back to the home of your people. A people for whom you sacrificed much. Long years you fought beside Elves and Men against an evil many of us once faced ourselves, in Gondolin. That time will never be forgotten to any of us and some of us still bear the scars we received; both emotionally and physically.

But you my son, you suffered so much more: the loss of your parents at such a young age, the loss of your brother, your wife, your daughter. And yet you still went on, never faltering. Your unselfishness for our people is humbling. In Imladris you provided a home not just for yourself but a haven for anyone; be they Elf, Human, Dwarf or Hobbit. You provided safety, help and healing. I am so very proud to call you my grandson. Well met, my son, well met.” Turgon’s voice began to crack with emotion. Many an eye held unshed tears as he finished his speech. Those at the main table could no longer hold back there tears.

Erestor stood and held his glass toward his friend, “to Elrond!” He bellowed. All stood with glasses in hand and cheered “Elrond!" This went on for quite some time until Idril clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

“Please, my friends, let us make way for merry.” To which the servants began to move the tables to clear an area for dancing. Minstrels began to set up while happy chattering filled the night air.
Elrond took Erestor by the side and hugged him tightly. This caught Erestor off guard because this was not something his lord would do regularly. "And most of this, my dear friend, would not have been done without you by my side. For that I'm eternally grateful for the guidance and the friendship that you have given me."
Erestor felt a lump form in his throat. He was overwhelmed by the words spoken to him. "I'm afraid I know not what to say." Erestor said into his friend's eyes.

Elrond clapped him on the back. "Well my friend, then this is indeed a first." Elrond smirked and turned towards his wife and grabbing her by the hand twirled her out to the dance floor as the music began to play. Erestor watched them: a huge smile formed on his face.

~~~
For the fourth time that day Torech burst into Ecthelion's home only to find him sitting in a chair, in his study, staring at an empty fireplace. Ecthelion did not even turn to see who was coming into his room. "Ecthelion, I have had enough. This is not about you. This is about Erestor. You either get your arse out there or you will lose him forever."
Ecthelion slowly turned his neck and looked at Torech. "I have lost him already. I do not deserve him. I am a coward." He then turned to stare back at nothingness.
“Fine! You're right. This Ecthelion does not deserve him. The Ecthelion of Gondolin did. How you ever defeated two balrogs, I will never know." Torech gave a sound of disgust and promptly left the room but not before muttering, "and this Ecthelion is not the one that I was killed for.” The slamming of the door reverberated throughout the entire room. ~~~


Many were the Elves that came up to Elrond to thank him and greet him that night. It was a little overbearing at times. His family tried to save him every chance they could by either taking him for a dance or to excuse him for some feigned important matter. Erestor danced with Celebrían and even with the Lady Idril. Many glances were thrown his way by an Elf interested in getting to know the handsome counselor and some by the curious onlooker who heard of the mess in the square.

Erestor was having an enlightening conversation with Tuor and King Turgon about the ramifications of The Fall. They were curious as to what the histories had to say. Turgon dealt with guilt all these many long years due to Maeglin’s deceptions. He felt that he should have known. That he had a duty to protect his people and in isolating them so well, he failed them. Tuor and Erestor tried to reassure him that it would have happened no matter the circumstances, but they could see that even though Turgon would nod in agreement with them, his eyes were ever dark and haunted with the past. So engrossed in their conversation were they that they did not notice that the room had gone quiet while the minstrels took a much needed break.
Hushed whispers started around them:

“Look who is here.”

“I wonder if there will be a scene?”

“Disgusts me, he does.”

“He doesn’t even know Lord Elrond……”

Walking into the garden, with his head held high, Ecthelion glanced around him in search of Erestor. He was dressed impeccably. His hair was braided intricately with a few diamonds scattered within them. He wore a tunic of delicate gray with a spray of silver and diamonds sprawled in a delicate pattern that simulated a water-fall. His pants of dark blue matched the color of his robe which held the same pattern of his tunic. His countenance was striking. His face the only part of his visage to belie his true feelings; though confident, he was fraught with nervousness. In that he felt alive for the first time in a very long time. His stomach played annoying games of leap frog with its meager contents as he espied that which he came here for.
Idril nudged Celebrían gently, “that is Lord Ecthelion.”

Celebrían turned to look at whom Idril was referring to and smiled wide. She in turn whispered into Elrond’s ear, and he turned to see what the fuss was all about. He scowled. He better not hurt Erestor anymore than he already had, he thought. He could not deny that this Elf indeed looked like the slayer of yore.
Turgon was the first to see him. He stopped a few feet before them and bowed before the king. “My King,” he spoke respectfully.

Erestor’s head whipped around to the intruder. His eyes narrowed even as his heart rate sped up at the beautiful Elf before them now.

Turgon waved his arm in dismissal. “I am not your king here.”

“You will ever be my king.” He nodded sincerely. He then turned to Tuor.

“My Lord,” he nodded to Tuor who in turn greeted him similarly.

“May I speak to Master Erestor?” He asked the king.

“Of course… we shall take our leave.”

“No, that is not necessary,” he looked to both, “what I have to say I must do so to all.”

Inwardly Erestor groaned. Here it was, Ecthelion’s public denial of their once relationship. Let him, thought Erestor, let him deny us so I may start anew.

What he did not expect was the next thing that happened. Ecthelion raised his hands and turned to the crowd. His voice rose commandingly as he asked for everyone’s attention.

“My fellow Elves, please, may I have your attention. “ All fell silent around them in anticipation of what was to come.

Celebrían had to gently restrain Elrond who was ready to defend his friend in any way needed. Erestor saw the slight commotion and nodded to Elrond and my mouthed that he was fine with a slight nod of his head.

Ecthelion continued. “In Gondolin, so very long ago, I fell in love with Erestor.” Gasps were heard around the room and even one came from Erestor, himself. Erestor turned to face Ecthelion, his eyes filled with surprise. Ecthelion nodded to him. “Being forbidden, we hid our love in clandestine meetings. But soon we were found out by Salgant and his minions. He forced Erestor to marry his niece or else he would reveal all. He had already killed Torech years before….” Ecthelion then held his head down in humiliation. Shocked gasps and declarations were heard all around them now. Salgant was not returned to the undying lands and now it made sense to all as to the reason why.

“I made plans to leave Gondolin with Erestor…but then The Fall….and we all know what happened after that.”
Ecthelion turned to Erestor and pleading into his eyes, spoke. “I know I do not deserve it but I seek your forgiveness. I was a fool, a coward, weak. I should have written you back when your son gave me your letter. I stood upon the hill overlooking your arrival at the dock and I should have run to you.” Erestor was shocked by that revelation. “I cared what others thought of us…of me…I was afraid that like Torech, you would be harmed because of me. Torech died because of my lusts, but you, I could not bear to lose you and yet I did just that. I love you. You may reject me forever and I can understand it if you do, but know that it is you whom I love, you who owns my heart now and forever. Can you forgive an old fool?” Ecthelion’s voice wavered; his palms were now sweating as he stared deeply into the most stunning eyes he had ever seen. Erestor just stood there, unable to move. He was shocked not only by the words spoken, but that Ecthelion did so publicly. He aired their secret. To all. No answer came from Erestor’s beautiful lips. His head was spinning wildly. He felt as if this were some dream he could not awaken from.

Defeated, Ecthelion sighed heavily while backing up. He turned and began to walk the way he came in which now seemed far longer than it did when he entered the garden. He no longer saw any around him. All he observed was his heart breaking. He deserved it. He did it to Erestor and only warranted the same.

Erestor watched his back retreat and a panic welled up in the pit of his stomach. This is it, he thought. Now or never. He knew this was hard for Ecthelion-monumental.

“Ecthelion!” Erestor called after him with all the authority he could muster. Slowly Ecthelion turned. “I accept your apology…for everything. I…I love you.” Idril began crying as did Celebrían and quite a few others in the garden that night.

The two began to walk in great strides to the other. Finally reaching each other, they fell into the other’s arms and kissed passionately; lips clashing and teeth banging against the other in their passion. “I am so sorry, so sorry,” Ecthelion kept whispering between kisses.

“You are forgiven, please, no more,” Erestor would reply. Suddenly many broke into applause of the love before them. And others turned their heads in disgust. But it did not matter to the two who stood as if alone, in the king’s garden, on a beautiful night in Valinor.

The End.

Epilogue to follow.


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