The Last Luster
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,933
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,933
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
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.
The Road Less Traveled
The Last Luster
By Isabel Schemes
Pairings: Glorfindel/ Erestor, Glorfindel/ Erestor/ Elrond
Ratings: NC-17 (later chapter)
Warnings: Graphic male/ male /male sex, borderline NCS, mentions of domestic abuse, suicidal bits
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of The Lord of the Rings characters, plot and all included in the novels.
Summary: Trepion, on, courage and love lead to…
Part Three: The Road Less Traveled
Elrond woke blearily to the soft pitter-patter of rain rattling down the drain pipe near his window. The curtains were open just a crack, so Elrond blindly reached, and pulled. The room quickly filled with hazy blue light, falling mostly atop the prone bodies on his bed; Glorfindel and Erestor.
After Glorfindel had come to him last night, they had decided to bring Erestor out of his dank, disgusting room and into the quiet clean of Elrond’s room. The pair on the bed were still asleep, their stomachs rising and falling beneath heavy blankets. They did not hold each other in sleep; rather, they were as far away from each other as possible. Elrond laughed quietly at the sight of his friends in bed before making his way to the bath.
The Lord of the Last Homely House sighed deeply as he shrugged off his sleeping robes and sank into the warm bathwater. He tried to concentrate on washing, however his mind was taken up with the pact he and Glorfindel had made the previous night. Today they would try to convince Erestor to heal, and to heal by sexual methods. This was a somewhat common practice, Elrond knew, yet Erestor was a bit of a prude after his marriage to Aiglos. Which was nothing to be ashamed of – in fact it would be expected after one entered a terribly strong bond with another. Elrond could only hope that Erestor was in a logical and daring mood to accept this treatment. If he refused, Elrond didn’t know what they would do.
Although Glorfindel was the primary worrier albeit warrior, when it came to Erestor, Elrond found himself becoming deeply entwined with concern over his advisor. This was no longer the worry of a Lord, or even a friend; Elrond knew that. He was becoming attached to every little thing the advisor did, whether it was how the sun fell across his face or how his mouth would quiver in frustration. Elrond found himself wishing he could sit with Erestor and listen to him all day, if only the elf would talk to him. This newfound admiration and profound yearning for Erestor was alarming, and most of all, forbidding. Even if he loved Erestor (which he wasn’t quite yet sure of) and if Erestor loved him back, there was still Glorfindel to consider. There was always Glorfindel to consider – for Elrond had long since discovered his love for the Golden Lord. Elrond could see no way to remedy his situation and still include the happiness of his dearest friends, so, like always, he pretended the feeling of love for both his advisors was that of friendship. He made plans to find another elf to take to bed, an elf that could temporarily cure his desires. Nothing less would comfort the Lord so.
When Erestor had awoken, he spent the first few minute reveling in his newfound calm. The dreamscape had awakened him, had opened is eyes to what would truly be his destiny. For so long now he had denied the fact that he was fading. Now, he had accepted it. His ancestors had whispered it to him in his dreams, they had shown him, and while he felt somewhat cold at his realization, he also felt euphoric. Then he saw who was in bed with him.
Now, Erestor glared across the room at his two friends, staring so hard and maliciously at them that it could have burned holes through their stomachs. A bare half hour ago he had awoken with a blazing hangover that destroyed his calm, in a bed with a sinfully gorgeous Lord Glorfindel and to top in off, in the bed of notorious playboy Lord Elrond himself. He knew then that he’d had too much wine. Now he was seated across from them, expecting either an apology or a reprimanding for his unhealthy habits.
“Erestor, I know that you may have woken up, in an odd place-” Elrond started calmly, but Erestor angrily cut him off.
“Odd place indeed! And what was it you intended to do with me in your bed, m’Lord?” Erestor snapped, his tone sarcastic.
“Look! I brought you here because I wanted to look after you. I wasn’t about to let you sleep in that pig pen!” Glorfindel intervened harshly.
“It’s not a pig pen,” Erestor muttered.
“Besides, we need to have a discussion about your health, Erestor. One you’ve spent years avoiding,” Elrond stated. Erestor’s heart leapt at that statement, and he immediately stood up and stalked towards the door. He had no intention of discussing anything with anybody about his present state of health. That was his business and his alone.
“Sit back down, Erestor! We are going to have to talk about this whether you like it or not,” Glorfindel commanded, maneuvering himself directly in front of the fleeing elf.
“Well I don’t have to and I don’t want to talk to either of you! For all I know you could have taken advantage of me while I was asleep and-”
“Is that what you really think of us?” Elrond asked slowly, quietly and dangerously. Erestor glanced from Elrond to Glorfindel, finally recognizing the distressed and caring facial expressions on both their faces. Ai, how could he have said that, Erestor thought. He knew that was not the truth, that his friends would never betray him as such. Erestor backed away from the pair, back into the chair, and slumped over.
“No, no I don’t. I’m sorry I said that. Please forgive me,” Erestor murmured, slowly wrapping his arms around his waist. Glorfindel moved to sit with his love.
“Meldir… we know you don’t think that,” Glorfindel noticed the guilt across Erestor’s face, “But we must talk to you,”
Erestor drew in a ragged breath and licked his dry lips. He had hoped to avoid this sort of intervening, for he was now quite sure what his destiny would be. He had seen it in the dreamscape. Amidst the very breath of his ancestors, within the ego that consisted of every elf who ever had existed and would exist, Erestor had seen his fate. He had watched his form, weary and pale, shake from desire and hide from love. He saw himself shrivel up and disappear like crushed le to to the wind in the autumn. He had watched his dream, watched until he saw his soul flee his body in a magnificent array of blood and tears, and he had stopped watching when he soul joined the greater soul. Yes, Erestor knew his fate and he would not contend options to dispose of his destiny; a destiny that would bring him to Aiglos. Erestor smiled and took comfort from this premonition.
“You are not well mellon, you are ill. You no longer take care of yourself. You hide away from other elves, from us. You work yourself to the bone. Your soul is fading and your grief has taken such hold of you that now I fear it will not let you go,” Elrond said purposefully. Glorfindel flinched at Elrond’s solemn prescription of his love’s fate. Carefully, yet boldly, Glorfindel wove his arm around Erestor and held him tight. Erestor made no move to break away. He also refused to answer.
“We want,” Elrond’s voice broke here, “To heal you. We want you to help you, we want you around with us for the rest of eternity,” Elrond declared faithfully. The sight of a huddled Erestor broken with cold depression filled Elrond with such remorse and sadness, that he felt the emotions in his bones.
“Please stay with us, meldir. I know that Aiglos is gone, and that your circumstances of parting were painful, but I want you with us. Don’t you want us?” Glorfindel’s words were uttered quietly and out of deep pain. Erestor sighed.
“Of course I want you, but I fear I cannot be helped, nay, I feel I do not want to be helped. I know the coldness when it sweeps over me, yes; I know what to call it. I had ignored it desperately, until this morning. I have seen my fate, and I will see that it is carried out, regardless of whatever healing you intend me to endure,” Erestor affirmed.
Glorfindel nearly lost all of his composure at that point. He felt his eyes fill up with a cascade of tears at Erestor’s admission. How Erestor could simply give away his life was so intrinsically a lie to Glorfindel, that he couldn’t understand it. He tried to, in his mind, find a way to let Erestor go, yet he could find no rational reason to release him. All Glorfindel knew with much certainty was that it wasn’t Erestor’s time and he was damned if he let his love die. Finding his courage and his voice, Glorfindel wiped his tears and looked deep into Erestor’s cold brown eyes.
“You may think that, but I know you’re wrong, and I still gonna help you,” Glorfindel murmured loyally, “I will not leave you for death, when you neither deserve it or when it is surely not your time,”
Glorfindel allowed a few tears to fall before he angrily wiped them away. He would not be a baby, he decided! He would be a warrior! Erestor saw this deep wound in his friend and he sat back quiet, thinking hard on the display before him. He admitted, he had not expected this much adoration on Elrond and especially on Glorfindel’s part. He had hoped that they would understand his destiny, and leave him to it.
Now, he was torn. He felt the sea of his ancestors call him to death, and the two magnificent voices of loved ones calling him to life. Somewhere within in him, he felt the whisperings of survival reach him and he resigned. He would allow more time to ponder his destiny. He would wait for another sign from his ancestors before he joined them. He owed that much to Elrond and Glorfindel.
“I… I must think about it,” Erestor voice quaked. Elrond’s heart jumped when he heard Erestor’s voice. He knew that now they might stand a chance. A slow, lazy grin spread its way across his face, likewise with Glorfindel. Glorfindel now looked as though he were a child who’d just been given permission to attend the fair. Elrond’s exhilaration was short lived however; as he remembered the last bit of news they had to tell their love.
Taking a deep breath, Elrond stood and walked to stand before the two he loved most.
“I am very grateful that you are taking this into consideration, but, I feel I must make sure you know all the details,” Erestor frowned slightly at this statement.
“But first, please know that we love you truly and we would never do anything without your permission or anything that might harm you,” Erestor’s frown grew deeper.
“To heal you, you must give your heart and body to us completely for three days. You must let yourself be loved in all senses of the word, and also to give love back. You must let us touch you, dote on you, feel every inch of your body and heart… and in return we will give you everything that you give us. You will be ours, and we will be yours,” Elrond explained, trying to convey some sort of ease into his advisor. Erestor had turned white while Elrond spoke.
“You mean, sexual healing!” Erestor exclaimed. Erestor’s heart trembled with this new knowledge, and despair quickly set in on him. Even if he wanted to be saved, he would have to whore himself to his friends to make it back to light!? Of course, rationally, Erestor knew this procedure was far from dirty-raunchy and non-consensual, but his brain told him to immediately flee- that this so called healing would bring him nothing but pain and heartbreak. Nothing except that dreaded feeling of enslavement and obligation in sex would come of this and that was the exact feeling he’d been fighting before Aiglos had died. He never wanted to be there, ever again. He’d prefer the cold black and soothing voice of the elves to the mixed emotions that come from sex.
Glorfindel made to touch him again, but this time Erestor moved away.
“I must think about this, now. Please leave,” Erestor said as calmly and peacefully as he could. He wanted to rip Elrond apart, yet at the same time he wanted to hold him close. He wanted to cry for how Glorfindel and Elrond were unwittingly putting him through more pain.
Elrond grabbed Glorfindel and dragged him out the door before he had a chance to say anything that would upset the elf. Elrond knew Glorfindel would continue to fight in his brash, warrior manner to protect and save his love. Elrond knew what Erestor needed now, and it was not the fiercely loyal proclamations of Glorfindel. He needed to think. He needed to pick between succumbing to the tempting voice of destiny, or to bravely fight his fate as he was so allowed. Now, Elrond knew, only Erestor could make that decision. No one else.
__________________________________
Please review and thank you for reading. - Isabel
By Isabel Schemes
Pairings: Glorfindel/ Erestor, Glorfindel/ Erestor/ Elrond
Ratings: NC-17 (later chapter)
Warnings: Graphic male/ male /male sex, borderline NCS, mentions of domestic abuse, suicidal bits
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of The Lord of the Rings characters, plot and all included in the novels.
Summary: Trepion, on, courage and love lead to…
Part Three: The Road Less Traveled
Elrond woke blearily to the soft pitter-patter of rain rattling down the drain pipe near his window. The curtains were open just a crack, so Elrond blindly reached, and pulled. The room quickly filled with hazy blue light, falling mostly atop the prone bodies on his bed; Glorfindel and Erestor.
After Glorfindel had come to him last night, they had decided to bring Erestor out of his dank, disgusting room and into the quiet clean of Elrond’s room. The pair on the bed were still asleep, their stomachs rising and falling beneath heavy blankets. They did not hold each other in sleep; rather, they were as far away from each other as possible. Elrond laughed quietly at the sight of his friends in bed before making his way to the bath.
The Lord of the Last Homely House sighed deeply as he shrugged off his sleeping robes and sank into the warm bathwater. He tried to concentrate on washing, however his mind was taken up with the pact he and Glorfindel had made the previous night. Today they would try to convince Erestor to heal, and to heal by sexual methods. This was a somewhat common practice, Elrond knew, yet Erestor was a bit of a prude after his marriage to Aiglos. Which was nothing to be ashamed of – in fact it would be expected after one entered a terribly strong bond with another. Elrond could only hope that Erestor was in a logical and daring mood to accept this treatment. If he refused, Elrond didn’t know what they would do.
Although Glorfindel was the primary worrier albeit warrior, when it came to Erestor, Elrond found himself becoming deeply entwined with concern over his advisor. This was no longer the worry of a Lord, or even a friend; Elrond knew that. He was becoming attached to every little thing the advisor did, whether it was how the sun fell across his face or how his mouth would quiver in frustration. Elrond found himself wishing he could sit with Erestor and listen to him all day, if only the elf would talk to him. This newfound admiration and profound yearning for Erestor was alarming, and most of all, forbidding. Even if he loved Erestor (which he wasn’t quite yet sure of) and if Erestor loved him back, there was still Glorfindel to consider. There was always Glorfindel to consider – for Elrond had long since discovered his love for the Golden Lord. Elrond could see no way to remedy his situation and still include the happiness of his dearest friends, so, like always, he pretended the feeling of love for both his advisors was that of friendship. He made plans to find another elf to take to bed, an elf that could temporarily cure his desires. Nothing less would comfort the Lord so.
When Erestor had awoken, he spent the first few minute reveling in his newfound calm. The dreamscape had awakened him, had opened is eyes to what would truly be his destiny. For so long now he had denied the fact that he was fading. Now, he had accepted it. His ancestors had whispered it to him in his dreams, they had shown him, and while he felt somewhat cold at his realization, he also felt euphoric. Then he saw who was in bed with him.
Now, Erestor glared across the room at his two friends, staring so hard and maliciously at them that it could have burned holes through their stomachs. A bare half hour ago he had awoken with a blazing hangover that destroyed his calm, in a bed with a sinfully gorgeous Lord Glorfindel and to top in off, in the bed of notorious playboy Lord Elrond himself. He knew then that he’d had too much wine. Now he was seated across from them, expecting either an apology or a reprimanding for his unhealthy habits.
“Erestor, I know that you may have woken up, in an odd place-” Elrond started calmly, but Erestor angrily cut him off.
“Odd place indeed! And what was it you intended to do with me in your bed, m’Lord?” Erestor snapped, his tone sarcastic.
“Look! I brought you here because I wanted to look after you. I wasn’t about to let you sleep in that pig pen!” Glorfindel intervened harshly.
“It’s not a pig pen,” Erestor muttered.
“Besides, we need to have a discussion about your health, Erestor. One you’ve spent years avoiding,” Elrond stated. Erestor’s heart leapt at that statement, and he immediately stood up and stalked towards the door. He had no intention of discussing anything with anybody about his present state of health. That was his business and his alone.
“Sit back down, Erestor! We are going to have to talk about this whether you like it or not,” Glorfindel commanded, maneuvering himself directly in front of the fleeing elf.
“Well I don’t have to and I don’t want to talk to either of you! For all I know you could have taken advantage of me while I was asleep and-”
“Is that what you really think of us?” Elrond asked slowly, quietly and dangerously. Erestor glanced from Elrond to Glorfindel, finally recognizing the distressed and caring facial expressions on both their faces. Ai, how could he have said that, Erestor thought. He knew that was not the truth, that his friends would never betray him as such. Erestor backed away from the pair, back into the chair, and slumped over.
“No, no I don’t. I’m sorry I said that. Please forgive me,” Erestor murmured, slowly wrapping his arms around his waist. Glorfindel moved to sit with his love.
“Meldir… we know you don’t think that,” Glorfindel noticed the guilt across Erestor’s face, “But we must talk to you,”
Erestor drew in a ragged breath and licked his dry lips. He had hoped to avoid this sort of intervening, for he was now quite sure what his destiny would be. He had seen it in the dreamscape. Amidst the very breath of his ancestors, within the ego that consisted of every elf who ever had existed and would exist, Erestor had seen his fate. He had watched his form, weary and pale, shake from desire and hide from love. He saw himself shrivel up and disappear like crushed le to to the wind in the autumn. He had watched his dream, watched until he saw his soul flee his body in a magnificent array of blood and tears, and he had stopped watching when he soul joined the greater soul. Yes, Erestor knew his fate and he would not contend options to dispose of his destiny; a destiny that would bring him to Aiglos. Erestor smiled and took comfort from this premonition.
“You are not well mellon, you are ill. You no longer take care of yourself. You hide away from other elves, from us. You work yourself to the bone. Your soul is fading and your grief has taken such hold of you that now I fear it will not let you go,” Elrond said purposefully. Glorfindel flinched at Elrond’s solemn prescription of his love’s fate. Carefully, yet boldly, Glorfindel wove his arm around Erestor and held him tight. Erestor made no move to break away. He also refused to answer.
“We want,” Elrond’s voice broke here, “To heal you. We want you to help you, we want you around with us for the rest of eternity,” Elrond declared faithfully. The sight of a huddled Erestor broken with cold depression filled Elrond with such remorse and sadness, that he felt the emotions in his bones.
“Please stay with us, meldir. I know that Aiglos is gone, and that your circumstances of parting were painful, but I want you with us. Don’t you want us?” Glorfindel’s words were uttered quietly and out of deep pain. Erestor sighed.
“Of course I want you, but I fear I cannot be helped, nay, I feel I do not want to be helped. I know the coldness when it sweeps over me, yes; I know what to call it. I had ignored it desperately, until this morning. I have seen my fate, and I will see that it is carried out, regardless of whatever healing you intend me to endure,” Erestor affirmed.
Glorfindel nearly lost all of his composure at that point. He felt his eyes fill up with a cascade of tears at Erestor’s admission. How Erestor could simply give away his life was so intrinsically a lie to Glorfindel, that he couldn’t understand it. He tried to, in his mind, find a way to let Erestor go, yet he could find no rational reason to release him. All Glorfindel knew with much certainty was that it wasn’t Erestor’s time and he was damned if he let his love die. Finding his courage and his voice, Glorfindel wiped his tears and looked deep into Erestor’s cold brown eyes.
“You may think that, but I know you’re wrong, and I still gonna help you,” Glorfindel murmured loyally, “I will not leave you for death, when you neither deserve it or when it is surely not your time,”
Glorfindel allowed a few tears to fall before he angrily wiped them away. He would not be a baby, he decided! He would be a warrior! Erestor saw this deep wound in his friend and he sat back quiet, thinking hard on the display before him. He admitted, he had not expected this much adoration on Elrond and especially on Glorfindel’s part. He had hoped that they would understand his destiny, and leave him to it.
Now, he was torn. He felt the sea of his ancestors call him to death, and the two magnificent voices of loved ones calling him to life. Somewhere within in him, he felt the whisperings of survival reach him and he resigned. He would allow more time to ponder his destiny. He would wait for another sign from his ancestors before he joined them. He owed that much to Elrond and Glorfindel.
“I… I must think about it,” Erestor voice quaked. Elrond’s heart jumped when he heard Erestor’s voice. He knew that now they might stand a chance. A slow, lazy grin spread its way across his face, likewise with Glorfindel. Glorfindel now looked as though he were a child who’d just been given permission to attend the fair. Elrond’s exhilaration was short lived however; as he remembered the last bit of news they had to tell their love.
Taking a deep breath, Elrond stood and walked to stand before the two he loved most.
“I am very grateful that you are taking this into consideration, but, I feel I must make sure you know all the details,” Erestor frowned slightly at this statement.
“But first, please know that we love you truly and we would never do anything without your permission or anything that might harm you,” Erestor’s frown grew deeper.
“To heal you, you must give your heart and body to us completely for three days. You must let yourself be loved in all senses of the word, and also to give love back. You must let us touch you, dote on you, feel every inch of your body and heart… and in return we will give you everything that you give us. You will be ours, and we will be yours,” Elrond explained, trying to convey some sort of ease into his advisor. Erestor had turned white while Elrond spoke.
“You mean, sexual healing!” Erestor exclaimed. Erestor’s heart trembled with this new knowledge, and despair quickly set in on him. Even if he wanted to be saved, he would have to whore himself to his friends to make it back to light!? Of course, rationally, Erestor knew this procedure was far from dirty-raunchy and non-consensual, but his brain told him to immediately flee- that this so called healing would bring him nothing but pain and heartbreak. Nothing except that dreaded feeling of enslavement and obligation in sex would come of this and that was the exact feeling he’d been fighting before Aiglos had died. He never wanted to be there, ever again. He’d prefer the cold black and soothing voice of the elves to the mixed emotions that come from sex.
Glorfindel made to touch him again, but this time Erestor moved away.
“I must think about this, now. Please leave,” Erestor said as calmly and peacefully as he could. He wanted to rip Elrond apart, yet at the same time he wanted to hold him close. He wanted to cry for how Glorfindel and Elrond were unwittingly putting him through more pain.
Elrond grabbed Glorfindel and dragged him out the door before he had a chance to say anything that would upset the elf. Elrond knew Glorfindel would continue to fight in his brash, warrior manner to protect and save his love. Elrond knew what Erestor needed now, and it was not the fiercely loyal proclamations of Glorfindel. He needed to think. He needed to pick between succumbing to the tempting voice of destiny, or to bravely fight his fate as he was so allowed. Now, Elrond knew, only Erestor could make that decision. No one else.
__________________________________
Please review and thank you for reading. - Isabel