Amin
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,064
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,064
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 3
“Erestor! By the sea and stars, what has happened to you?”
The advisor pushed passed the gaping Elven Lord and flopped into the nearest chair, peeling the still-drenched robe from his body.
“I do not wish to discuss it, Elrond. . “ Erestor grumbled through chattering teeth, stripping his saturated tunic away from his chilled skin as well.
One eyebrow arched upward, but the Elven Ruler said nothing, politely turning his back as Erestor disrobed.
“Ereinion has invited us to dinner, Erestor. . .as soon as you have. . .collected yourself,” Elrond said, performing a brief inspection of his nails and chuckling as Erestor tossed his breeches onto the floor with a moist plop.
“Fine, fine. Yes. . .” the advisor muttered. “I shall be there.”
“Most excellent,” Lord Elrond swept towards the door, glancing coyly over his shoulder at Erestor who shot him a look of annoyance. “Oh, and I would do something with that hair if I were you. It looks as if you fought a losing battle with a sea urchin.”
“Mordor Fires, Elrond! Would you kindly leave me be!” Erestor groaned.
Elrond chuckled. “As you wish.” With an exaggerated graceful bow, the Lord of Imladris left the room, closing the door with a soft click.
* * * * * * * * *
The warmth of the bathing pools had done little to rest the unsettling chill from Erestor’s body, for it felt as if it had seeped into his bones where it clung stubbornly, refusing to swept away. Despite the unrelenting frigidity within him, Erestor had dressed to the fullest extent of his station, having donned one is sis signature form fitting robes with a the hintings of a burgundy tunic beneath. His damp hair had been recombed and plaited into his usual solitary braid offset by the accents of strategically woven pins tipped with ruby stones.
He could not resist admiring his countenance in the mirror for a moment before stepping from his chambers and sweeping down the hallway with a flourish where he met with Lord Elrond as promised. Although Erestor had little appetite, he did very much enjoy the thought of time in the presence of Ereinion Gil-galad, especially now that he no longer resembled a damp rodent.
Elrond led him into the lavish dining hall which dwarfed even Rivendell’s own residence for extended guest meals. The High King was already there, seated within one of the ornately carved chairs apparently studying what appeared to be an apple as the pair approached him.
“Ah, Lord Elrond. . .Lord Erestor. . .” the Noldor Ruler greeted them, setting the apple down as he rose from his chair. “It is good of you to join me, my friends. Dining alone is so unpleasant!”
“Indeed it is!” Elrond agreed heartily. “And just where have all the others gone?”
Ereinion waved his hand dismissively. “I have no need of them, so they are free to do as they please. The evening is far too lovely to be wasted for the sake of my entertainment.”
The High King seated himself once more with a rustle of sapphire silk. “I would much rather enjoy the company of one of my oldest friends and his companion.”
Erestor fought to tear his gaze away from Ereinion’s exquisite features. The deep hue of the silver etched robes offset the creamy perfection of his skin in quite an alluring manner. Lowering his eyes, Erestor concentrated his efforts on eating rather than staring as the two Elven Rulers conversed jovially.
An odd mix of cold and heat alternated within his body as he shivered one moment and dabbed sweat from his brow at the next. Perhaps he was more tired that he had originally believed.
“You are most quiet, Lord Erestor,” Ereinion observed between sips of wine. “Have you nothing to add to our horridly boring discussion?”
Erestor set his napkin within his lap. “I am afraid I know precious little of the subject of ruling a kingdom,” he confessed.
“There is very little to know. . “ Elrond chimed in with a wink which the High King returned.
The suggestive intimacy of the gesture left Erestor slightly irritated. Why had they not sought the company of each other rather than inviting him? Having dressed to the hilt for the sake of impression had been an utter waste of time. Clearly, the High King’s affections were marked for Lord Elrond.
And thus it continued as the colors of the evening deepened into darkness, his every subtlety overlooked, his normally compelling seductive nature having no effect what so ever.
Finally having withstood all that he could endure, Erestor excused himself, leaving the two Elves to prattle and reminisce over lordly nostalgia in private. And whatever else they may havennednned.
“Erestor,” Ereinion called as the advisor had reached for the door’s handle, “I trust that you will attend the festival upon tomorrow’s eve? It is, after all, held in the honor of Rivendell.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Erestor said as smoothly as he could manage through his clenched teeth.
“Ah, good. Pleasant dreams, Advisor,” the High King said as he and Lord Elrond chuckled over some unspoken jest.
“And to you,” Erestor said stiffly, exiting the dining hall as quickly as he could manage without the appearance of bolting.
Sleep certainly sounded like a splendid idea. Normally, he would seek a companion to warm his bed, but on this night, he felt little virility. He would sleep alone.
* * * * * * * * *
The advisor pushed passed the gaping Elven Lord and flopped into the nearest chair, peeling the still-drenched robe from his body.
“I do not wish to discuss it, Elrond. . “ Erestor grumbled through chattering teeth, stripping his saturated tunic away from his chilled skin as well.
One eyebrow arched upward, but the Elven Ruler said nothing, politely turning his back as Erestor disrobed.
“Ereinion has invited us to dinner, Erestor. . .as soon as you have. . .collected yourself,” Elrond said, performing a brief inspection of his nails and chuckling as Erestor tossed his breeches onto the floor with a moist plop.
“Fine, fine. Yes. . .” the advisor muttered. “I shall be there.”
“Most excellent,” Lord Elrond swept towards the door, glancing coyly over his shoulder at Erestor who shot him a look of annoyance. “Oh, and I would do something with that hair if I were you. It looks as if you fought a losing battle with a sea urchin.”
“Mordor Fires, Elrond! Would you kindly leave me be!” Erestor groaned.
Elrond chuckled. “As you wish.” With an exaggerated graceful bow, the Lord of Imladris left the room, closing the door with a soft click.
* * * * * * * * *
The warmth of the bathing pools had done little to rest the unsettling chill from Erestor’s body, for it felt as if it had seeped into his bones where it clung stubbornly, refusing to swept away. Despite the unrelenting frigidity within him, Erestor had dressed to the fullest extent of his station, having donned one is sis signature form fitting robes with a the hintings of a burgundy tunic beneath. His damp hair had been recombed and plaited into his usual solitary braid offset by the accents of strategically woven pins tipped with ruby stones.
He could not resist admiring his countenance in the mirror for a moment before stepping from his chambers and sweeping down the hallway with a flourish where he met with Lord Elrond as promised. Although Erestor had little appetite, he did very much enjoy the thought of time in the presence of Ereinion Gil-galad, especially now that he no longer resembled a damp rodent.
Elrond led him into the lavish dining hall which dwarfed even Rivendell’s own residence for extended guest meals. The High King was already there, seated within one of the ornately carved chairs apparently studying what appeared to be an apple as the pair approached him.
“Ah, Lord Elrond. . .Lord Erestor. . .” the Noldor Ruler greeted them, setting the apple down as he rose from his chair. “It is good of you to join me, my friends. Dining alone is so unpleasant!”
“Indeed it is!” Elrond agreed heartily. “And just where have all the others gone?”
Ereinion waved his hand dismissively. “I have no need of them, so they are free to do as they please. The evening is far too lovely to be wasted for the sake of my entertainment.”
The High King seated himself once more with a rustle of sapphire silk. “I would much rather enjoy the company of one of my oldest friends and his companion.”
Erestor fought to tear his gaze away from Ereinion’s exquisite features. The deep hue of the silver etched robes offset the creamy perfection of his skin in quite an alluring manner. Lowering his eyes, Erestor concentrated his efforts on eating rather than staring as the two Elven Rulers conversed jovially.
An odd mix of cold and heat alternated within his body as he shivered one moment and dabbed sweat from his brow at the next. Perhaps he was more tired that he had originally believed.
“You are most quiet, Lord Erestor,” Ereinion observed between sips of wine. “Have you nothing to add to our horridly boring discussion?”
Erestor set his napkin within his lap. “I am afraid I know precious little of the subject of ruling a kingdom,” he confessed.
“There is very little to know. . “ Elrond chimed in with a wink which the High King returned.
The suggestive intimacy of the gesture left Erestor slightly irritated. Why had they not sought the company of each other rather than inviting him? Having dressed to the hilt for the sake of impression had been an utter waste of time. Clearly, the High King’s affections were marked for Lord Elrond.
And thus it continued as the colors of the evening deepened into darkness, his every subtlety overlooked, his normally compelling seductive nature having no effect what so ever.
Finally having withstood all that he could endure, Erestor excused himself, leaving the two Elves to prattle and reminisce over lordly nostalgia in private. And whatever else they may havennednned.
“Erestor,” Ereinion called as the advisor had reached for the door’s handle, “I trust that you will attend the festival upon tomorrow’s eve? It is, after all, held in the honor of Rivendell.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Erestor said as smoothly as he could manage through his clenched teeth.
“Ah, good. Pleasant dreams, Advisor,” the High King said as he and Lord Elrond chuckled over some unspoken jest.
“And to you,” Erestor said stiffly, exiting the dining hall as quickly as he could manage without the appearance of bolting.
Sleep certainly sounded like a splendid idea. Normally, he would seek a companion to warm his bed, but on this night, he felt little virility. He would sleep alone.
* * * * * * * * *