Through The Ages

Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: R
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: Talk of rape and consequences to Erestor’s body. General icky-ness
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)

Chapter 23

“How is he?” Glorfindel asked, looking down at the prone form on the bed. Erestor’s eyes were closed as his body tried to heal, his eyelids a disturbing purple colour. Glorfindel’s hand shook with rage as he lowered it from his lip and folded his arms across his chest. The white sheets Erestor lay upon were slowly turning red, despite the bandages that now covered three quarters of his body.

“I have set arm and applied healing herbs and bandages everywhere I can. Unfortunately there is extensive damage to his posterior and shall cause him pain for several weeks yet. It is too early to tell if his anus shall ever truly heal, all we can do is wait,” Clorel said.

“Should he really be lying on his back then?” Glorfindel asked.

“Probably not, but it is the best position for him to be in for the rest of his body to regenerate. I may roll him onto the side in a week or so, but for now it would only aggravate his other wounds.”

“What did they do to him?”

Clorel sighed deeply. “I am not sure you want to hear-”

“Just tell me.”

“From some of the bruises it is easy to see they were inflicted by punching and kicking. His arm was broken at the shoulder and elbow, suggesting it was being twisted around his back when it happened. There are lashings on his back and buttocks, clearly made by a whip. His chest has long, winding trails of cuts… most likely done very purposefully with a thin blade. And-” Clorel took a moment to swallow before going on, “his entrance has been used several times. Stretched by foreign objects much larger than he could handle. And there is bruising around his penis and testicles. They would have been handled very roughly and probably bound at some point. There are also markings around his wrists and ankles. The bruising suggests his movement was restricted and the peeling of the skin around there confirms he struggled violently.”

Glorfindel’s eyes closed slowly and he swallowed down the bile rising from his chest. “And-”

Glorfindel’s words were interrupted by Earane barging into the room, the message Clorel had written to him scrunched within his hand. He took one glance at Erestor’s resting form and immediately rushed to his son’s side, crouching down low and examined the sleeping face.

“What happened?” he managed to choke out after several attempts.

“Last night, several Lords, myself not included,” Glorfindel was careful to make it clear that he was not involved, “had their way with him. From the injuries we can merely guess what occurred. Perhaps it would be better if you ask Erestor when he wakes?”

“And when might that be?”

Clorel stepped up to the bed on the other side. “I cannot say for sure. His injuries are grave and will take many weeks to heal. It is best that he is sleeping through the pain.”

Earane nodded his head, tears unashamedly flowing from his eyes. He moved to hold Erestor’s hand, but halted at noticing the bandage tied around it. He settled instead for gingerly stroking his son’s arm, near the elbow.

“There is nothing you can do here. Be at ease knowing he has survived this ordeal and when he wakes he will need your strength, Earane. He will not hold it against you if you returned to work now,” Clorel said soothingly, watching Earane as the jeweller watched Erestor.

“I know… I would have him at home where he can heal in familiar surroundings.”

“He cannot be moved. Not now and certainly not for another fortnight at the very least.”

“No,” Glorfindel spoke up.

“No?” Earane asked and slowly turned his head to stare harshly at the golden lord.

“That is correct, I forbid it. Here, Erestor has access to expert treatment, all his needs are catered to and it is quiet. Everything he needs to recover in comfort and peace.”

“And your room is but two corridors away! Do not think I am unaware of that!”

“Please keep your-” Clorel tried to say but was spoken over.

“It matters not where I sleep, only that this is a suitable place for Erestor to rest and heal. And while I am the one paying for his treatment then-”

“Then allow me to amend that now. Never let it be said that my son or myself are in your debt, Lord Glorfindel,” Earane opened his outer tunic while he was speaking and took out a bag of coins and threw them at Glorfindel.

Glorfindel easily caught the bag and carefully weighed them in his hand. “This would barely cover his bandages,” he said then tossed the bag at Earane’s feet. The jeweller’s lips curled in fury and his hands balled into fists by his sides. Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, almost daring the peasant to strike him.

“I shall be back later, and I expect you to no longer be near *MY* son!”

“I really don’t think-” once again Clorel was drowned out.

“And when he is able, I shall be moving him to his home, no matter what you say!” Earane shouted and left the room, bumping his shoulder into Glorfindel’s on the way.

Glorfindel watched Erestor’s father leave. “Barricade the door if you must, but do not remove Erestor from this room until he has healed completely.”

“If I might say so, there has been no proper research, but many healers have noted a marked improvement upon a patient if they are in an environment they find safe and comforting, rather than alien and sterile. There are no windows in here, completely shut out from nature with not even a hint of sound coming from the outside world. I might recommend-”

“No! He is to stay here until he is mended! Do I make myself clear?” Glorfindel demanded.

“Of course, my lord,” Clorel half bowed.

“And should Earane try ANYTHING to take Erestor away from me- uh, here-”

“You shall be the first to know,” Clorel finished.

“Good. Now, there is work I must tend to, but I shall return later. Keep a close eye on him.”

“I will.”

Glorfindel nodded his head. He took one last, lingering look at Erestor before leaving the room, silently closing the door behind him. Clorel let out a long, deep sigh and looked around the sparse, cold room, shaking his head with disapproval. Walking around the bed, he picked up the bag of coins and placed it on the counter near his equipment. He then returned to Erestor’s side and closely watched his patient.


~*~*~*~*~


Darkness flowed around Erestor’s naked and broken form. He lay on the cold ground, daring not to move for the pain that would flare up. Everywhere hurt. Every muscle and limb, every fibre and cell was in constant agony, inside and out. No place on his body was left untouched and without pain. He couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to.

Mists of black smoke floated around his head. Shadowy figures rose from the recesses of his mind… taunting… teasing… happy.

Erestor closed his eyes tight, his arms wrapped around himself in a shallow display of comfort. Friends and foes alike formed a circle around him, though none could see his distress. Each individual played out images of bygone cheerful moments. Memories of gleeful times by all those that surrounded him were displayed only for him, despite what they meant to Erestor. Every countenance was smiling, their actions belying their gaiety. Erestor, though his eyes were tightly shut, vividly saw Cirilea embrace Tamarin… His father bending down to tickle him on his first day of school… King Turgon holding his daughter for the first time…

But amongst these innocently happy moments were also darker ones. Galdor as he shoved a sword hilt forwards… Ecthelion as the lord threw his arm forwards, a whip following the movement… Galshor as he drove his member into another being over and over again… Natahl as he rejected Erestor’s proposal…

All cloudy figures were pressed so closely to one another that the dark smoke mingled happy memories with despairing ones and Erestor began weeping uncontrollably. He was defenceless against the images invading his mind and he felt his will wavering.

A bright light suddenly pierced through the impeding darkness and illuminated his body. The glowing rays dispersed all doubt and the ghosts around him disappeared in a flash. Erestor’s skin melted beneath the illumination and all his hurts fused together and left no scar or mark on his soul or frame. Opening his eyes, he stared into the light, his dark eyes glistening with tears, thankful for this salvation,

A speck. A tiny speck of darkness could be seen coming from within the centre of the bright spectre. Erestor focussed on this point and watched as it grew larger and larger, slowly taking form… A woman. Her frame was thin, her features delicate. Dark hair flowed down her back and blue eyes smiled at Erestor encouragingly. Though she stood some distance away, half in the light, she crouched a little and held out her hand to Erestor. Spellbound by the apparition in front of him, Erestor stretched out his arm, willing to take hers…

Just as he began crawling towards her, a beacon shone from behind him, also highlighting his body. But this light hurt him. His skin sizzled and all the pain that had been removed moments ago suddenly came back. Erestor yelled as his skin was torn anew and the tears that now fell were full of agony. He sobbed and looked over his shoulder, wondering who would do this to him and was surprised to see his father. He also stood half in the light, but he was not calling to Erestor as the lady was. His face was full of pity and worry.

Erestor tried to call out to his father, but his voice failed him as his body writhed in pain. He hiccoughed and turned back to the lady waiting patiently for him. He choked back a cry and started painfully crawling towards her, each movement becoming easier the closer to the light he came.


~*~*~*~*~


“What is happening?” Glorfindel demanded, bent over Erestor’s body. Earane brushed his hand over Erestor’s sweaty forehead and looked at Clorel hopelessly for an answer.

“I have never seen this for myself, but I have heard reports from healers in other cities. Elves, after being subjected to a traumatising situation start to fade,” Clorel responded.

“Fade?” Earane and Glorfindel asked together, neither understanding the term in this situation.

“Unfortunately there is no other word for it just yet. It is as though the victim loses the will to live. Like with one’s soul mate dying. Earane, I have heard you went through a period where many thought you would follow your wife to Mandos’ Halls after she passed…”

“That is true… Were it not for Erestor needing me, I would have indeed joined her…” Earane agreed.

“Apparently such reactions are not only due to a loved one’s death now. Incidences such as rape, loneliness, grievous bodily harm, despair and many more, unknown reasons can now also lead to this path. It is as though we are becoming frailer creatures,” Clorel tried to explain.

“And with lords doing whatever they want to whomever they wish, we are likely to lose a great many numbers in days to come,” Earane bit out angrily, accusing Glorfindel with every word.

“Do not blame me! I have used none other than my slaves and those that are willing!” he defended himself.

“Oh, but you would have used my son given the right circumstance. Not to mention all the distress you have already put him through! Do not think I am unaware of his nightly visits to your rooms and the constant pressure you have put upon him!”

Glorfindel gritted his teeth and leant over the bed further, his face mere centimetres away from Earane’s and the two males tried to stare each other down.

“So, he is fading?” Natahl asked, speaking for the first time since he entered the room ten minutes ago. His eyes were glistening with tears and his arms were held across his torso. “Is he going to die?”

Earane breathed out all the anger and frustration he felt, knowing deep down that arguing with Glorfindel would do nothing for his only child. He turned his eyes back to Erestor and slowly sank back into his chair beside the bed.

Likewise, Glorfindel felt ashamed at his selfishness and stepped back to look at Clorel, waiting for an answer.

“It is hard to say. There is nothing I can do for now. We just have to hope there is something left in this world for him. If not…” Clorel left his statement hanging in the air.

“Please… Please Erestor… Come back to us…” Earane whispered gently into Erestor’s ear. Picking up a damp cloth, he laid it across Erestor’s forehead and stroked a bruised cheek before he carefully held Erestor’s hand.

“There is nothing we can do for him now. I suggest you all get some sleep,” Clorel said after a long stretch of silence.

“I would rather stay,” Earane said, and from the determined look in his eyes, none would dare to deny him his wish.

“I shall post guards outside to ensure you are not disturbed. If there is any change, send one to me immediately,” Glorfindel said.

“I will,” Clorel bowed.

Glorfindel made his way to the door and almost bumped into Natahl on the way. The two blondes took a step back and stared threateningly into each other’s eyes. Time slowed and passed around them unknowingly, both too intent on not backing down from the silent challenge.

“This is hardly the time or place,” Clorel admonished after a minute of watching them warily.

“Too true,” Natahl smiled solemnly and stepped aside, allowing Glorfindel to pass. Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed and his head turned, watching Natahl closely as he left the room. Natahl approached the bed and stood behind Earane, clasping the jeweller’s shoulder in silent support.

“Thankyou, but you should be off too. Nothing else can be done this night,” Earane said without turning around.

“Very well, but I shall visit again in the morning. Be sure to rest, you are no good to Erestor half dead.” Earane grunted, agreeing to nothing. Natahl patted his shoulder once more and left the room.

“What of you? Do you not need to rest?” Earane asked Clorel when he noticed the healer had picked up a book and settled himself in a chair in the far corner of the room.

“I do, but the first few days are the most critical. I shall rest the day after tomorrow and allow another healer to watch Erestor in my absence.”

“The day after tomorrow? That means you shall not have slept for four days!” Earane protested.

“There is no need to sound so shocked. Many elves can continue to work at peak efficiency with up to a week’s worth of sleepless nights and days. Besides which, I am so used to it now I would not be able to sleep even if I were drowsy.”

Earane nodded in understanding then turned his attention back to Erestor.

“I am no healer…but is there anything I can do to help?” Earane asked, his voice breaking as he spoke, fresh tears threatening to fall as Erestor’s breathing became slower.

“There is no physical wound that has not been seen to and no bandages need changing again for another few hours. All I can suggest is for you to perhaps talk to him. Patients often say they are able to hear what is being said to them, even though they are in a deep, healing sleep. It may help to bring him back from whatever dark place he is in.”

The corners of Earane’s mouth twitched, ever in a downward direction. Swallowing around a large lump in his throat, Earane’s voice crackled as he began to speak.

“Erestor… Please, you have worried me beyond death this day! Come back to me! You were all that saved me from death fifty years ago…please let my love for you be enough for you to return to the light. Please… I could not bear it if you left me now… I love you, my son.”

Earane stayed by Erestor’s side throughout the night, whispering heartfelt words to the still form on the bed. The only movement came from the slow, steady rise and fall of Erestor’s chest, and even that became so gradual that Earane worried Erestor would stop breathing completely with every breath he expelled.

With each noticeable decline in pace, Clorel moved his chair closer to the bed, wanting to be that little bit nearer to his patient should things turn for the worse, until he sat right next to the bed, opposite Earane. Growing desperate, Clorel softly placed his hands on Erestor’s body, one on his forehead, the other over his chest and sent healing energy into the battered and bruised body, hoping the warm light would reach Erestor, body and mind.


~*~*~*~*~


“ERESTOR!” a voice called from behind him. The scribe stopped and turned his head towards his father. Earane stood in the same position he had before, and did not look as though he would say anything more. From behind the jeweller, another figure took shape. Glorfindel looked at Erestor and said nothing. Just watching the pitiful, half-scarred being trembling on the ground.

Erestor whimpered at the arrival of this visage and turned his face away. The blue highlights of his hair glistened in the golden rays as his locks were flung about him. He began shuffling across the ground once more, his injuries impeding his movements, though they slowly disappeared with each fraction closer he moved towards the female. The sound of a raindrop caught his attention, and Erestor’s gaze was drawn to his father’s countenance. The older elf now cried unashamedly. The tears fell like rain down his ever-youthful face and plip-plopped on the ground.

Erestor’s movements halted.

Pain mingled with love and support… His body whole and hollow joys… Both decisions were fraught with despair and rejoicing, and neither were enough to sustain him fully. Erestor lay on the ground and seriously thought about his options. The logical side of his brain took over, and once his physical hurts were removed from the equation, his choice was easy to make.

Reaching his destination, however, was a whole other matter.


~*~*~*~*~


“I told you to call me if there was any change! I think his breathing coming almost to a complete stop is a change worthy of calling me from my slumber!” Glorfindel shouted, though this time Clorel had ushered everyone out of the room before Erestor could be disturbed.

“Even if we had called you, there would have been nothing for you to do. Earane has been comforting Erestor and I have been healing him as best I can. With our combined efforts, I have been hoping for a positive change, that should come any moment now,” Clorel explained. “Now, I really should be getting back to my patient, if you will excuse me.”

Glorfindel put his arm against the wall, obstructing Clorel. “No! I think-”

A loud, guttural holler came from within the room behind them and all four concerned elves flew inside the doors. Erestor lay wailing upon the bed, his mouth open wide in agony and his body jerkily moving beneath the blankets. Earane rushed past Glorfindel and came to his son’s side.

“Erestor! Thank the Valar! Please, be still, you shall only cause yourself more harm!” Earane said as soothingly as he could over the screams coming from his son. Erestor looked at his father; his dark eyes full of despair and pain, but his shouts did not cease.

“Help me father! It hurts! I hurt! SO MUCH! IT DOESN’T END-AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!” Erestor’s torso left the mattress as his limbs dug into the soft surface.

Clorel was busy with his equipment while Earane assisted Erestor. He quickly pulled out his strongest sedative and poured it into a small rimmed flask. Rushing to the bedside, he ordered Earane to keep Erestor’s head as still as possible while he poured the liquid down Erestor’s throat. Clorel then covered Erestor’s mouth roughly and kept eye contact with the frightened elf, bobbing his head as he told Erestor repeatedly to swallow.

Erestor’s throat burned as he was forced to drink the vile potion. No sooner had he consumed all that was in his mouth did Clorel force more into his body.

Earane noticed Erestor’s struggles weakened after his third gulp. The black eyes glazed over and his eyelids fluttered closed. Earane breathed a sigh of relief and removed his hands from Erestor’s face.

“It worked,” he said numbly, with a small smile on his face. “Oh gods, he is going to be all right.”

“Yes, his life has been spared, but there is much to do before he is healed. Come, I must examine his body once more. I would appreciate an empty room while I do so.”

“How long will that take?” Earane fretted, trying to get around Clorel’s body as the healer ushered him, Glorfindel and Natahl from the room.

“An hour, possibly two. I shall inform you all once my work is complete, now leave me be,” Clorel said and shut the door, locking all three out. He quickly threw off his outer robe and removed the blankets from Erestor’s body. Blood oozed through each bandage and he immediately set to cleaning every injury on the small body.

~*~

On other side of the door, the three elves did not look at one another. Natahl breathed in relief. Glorfindel allowed silent tears of joy flow down his cheeks. And Earane stumbled across the hallway to the opposite wall and leant against it heavily, shudders racking his frame as wept uncontrollably.

“Thank the gods… He is going to be all right! Oh my precious, precious son!” Earane smiled through his tears. His strength then gave out, and he fell to the floor, laughing brokenly in delight.

Natahl quickly moved behind the jeweller and grasped the older elf under his arms. The soldier easily hoisted Earane up from the floor and began moving down the corridor, heading towards the lower levels of the Golden Flower.

Glorfindel watched as they left, Earane leaning heavily into Natahl’s embrace. At that moment he felt himself falling apart, but knowing there would be no friendly embrace to put him back together again, instead wiped his face and walked away, though his thoughts never strayed from Erestor for the whole day.


TBC

Hi everyone,

Sorry again for not updating as quickly as I should. If anyone isn’t already aware, I have two new purchases keeping me VERY busy indeed! :D

Go here to see if you are curious: http://mawgy.livejournal.com/32043.html


Sione: Well, obviously Glorfindel hasn’t done much ‘saving’, but there is potential now for some growth and perhaps a willingness to protect Erestor even more… hope that brings you some comfort.


Nikkling Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I hope you haven’t given up on me or this story just yet.
Thankyou so much for your kind words. I’m rather overwhelmed with the response this fic has been getting. I’m so happy you’ve found some enjoyment out of it. And I hope you enjoy the rest (once I get round to writing it :p )


Kalima Well, I certainly don’t intend for this fic to be read just for fun. It is dark and angsty with adult themes. And though you may not see a ‘pairing’ coming to light any time soon between these main characters, well, that’s precisely what I want you to think! After all these gruesome and emotionally charged events it is going to be impossible for anything but mistrust and anger to occur between them.
BUT, I do write *eventually* Erestor/Glorfindel pairing. Anything that does happen between them will not occur for a long time yet. This story is not exactly fast-paced so you’ll have to stick with it for some time yet before you see my true intention for them.
Though I hope you do find SOME enjoyment in this fic and are willing to read it till the end.

Thanks for commenting guys!

Luv Mawgy