Shadows Of The Past
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
9,899
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
6
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
9,899
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
6
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.
Chapter 3
Title: Shadows of The Past (3/?)
Author: Janalynn27
Type: FPS
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, Rape, Non-con, AU
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. No disrespect is intended and no profit is being made.
Beta: Patricia Pleasant aka slayer9649, Thanks a bunch! Any other mistakes are of my making.
Summary: Glorfindel uses Erestor as a shield to say no to a suitor and Erestor is tormented by the past.
Timeline: Early TA
Feedback: It is greatly appreciated
Author's note: Okay, I know Greenwood the Great wasn't called Mirkwood until about 1050 TA but in my story it is already called Mirkwood. The twins are around 22 yrs. Old which is about 8 human yrs. Old.
Chapter 3
The council meeting had just gotten over and Nibenon waited for the advisors to depart the chamber before venturing forward to bow in front of his Lord. “Your Majesty, I am here to let you know that Lord Glorfindel and his party arrived a few hours ago.”
Thranduil scowled and demanded, “And why was I not informed, at once, upon their arrival.”
Taking a deep breath from his suddenly restricted lungs, Nibenon said, “But, Majesty, you said you were not to be disturbed unless it was of vital importance.”
Thranduil sat back and said in a softer tone, “I apologize, Nibenon, of course you were doing only what you were told. But Lord Glorfindel must be treated with the utmost respect while he is here. I suppose he is still resting from his long journey?”
Bowing once again, Nibenon said, “Yes, Majesty. Do you want to be told when he awakes?”
“Yes, at once. I want dinner brought to my personal dining chamber and him brought there as soon as he wakes,” Thranduil said with a wave of his hand in dismissal.
“I will see to it personally, Your Majesty,” Nibenon bowed then left the council chamber.
After Nibenon departed, Thranduil sat back in his chair and thought of the one and only time that he had met the Elda. Thranduil had journeyed to Imladris for a short visit to discuss happenings in and around his and Elrond’s realms. Lord Glorfindel had been on patrol when Thranduil had arrived and only returned two days before his scheduled departure. Thranduil had truly been mesmerized by the sight of the warrior; bare-chested, sparring in the training field. From that moment on, he was consumed by lust for the born again ellon (m. elf). Much to Thranduil’s chagrin, he could not justify his staying another day longer, for he needed to return to Mirkwood and his people. Now the Golden Warrior was here, in his home, and it made Thranduil almost giddy in thinking of Lord Glorfindel gracing his bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After getting some rest and a refreshing bath, Glorfindel was ready to start his mission, for he did not want to linger in Mirkwood any longer than he had to. Nibenon had appeared at his chamber door to inform him that he was to dine with King Thranduil in his personal dining chamber.
Thranduil looked up as Nibenon escorted Glorfindel into the room and he stood, “My Lord Glorfindel, I hope your journey here was safe?”
Bowing slightly, “Yes, your Majesty, we did not encounter too many difficulties on our way here.”
Coming forward to stand before Glorfindel, the King said, “Saes (Please) call me Thranduil.”
Glorfindel was a little shocked at the informality of King Thranduil’s conduct, but none the less, bowed once more and said, “Thranduil.”
“Come, sit and eat, I am sure you are famished,” Thranduil motioned to the mahogany wood table that was set with silver platters of various foods.
Glorfindel followed Thranduil to the table as he looked about the chamber. There were rich tapestries hanging on the walls, lush carpets graced the floor, and there was a huge fireplace, lined on each side with shelves that held books and other odds and ends. After sitting down, servants came forward and filled their glasses with wine and their plates with food.
Thranduil watched the Slayer as he set about eating. ‘How magnificent he looks,’ he thought to himself. “So, Lord Glorfindel, tell me, how goes the security in Imladris?” Thranduil asked as he started to eat himself.
Glorfindel took another sip of his wine. He had noticed out of the corner of his eye that the King had been studying him and he did not miss the lustful look he gave him. Glorfindel mentally sighed, ‘He would have to tread carefully so as not to offend the King,’ he thought. It was not that Thranduil was unattractive; he was tall with broad shoulders. His hair rivaled Glorfindel’s own in its radiance, and not for the first time did Glorfindel wonder why he was reluctant to take a lover. Before, in Gondolin, he was very passionate, not going more than a few days without engaging in the pleasures of the body. It was not that he flaunted himself around or took pleasure without thinking, for he never left his lover wanting, whether it be ellon (m. elf) or elleth (f. elf). But ever since he returned to Arda, he was not quite the same. He took lovers, but never dallied with them more than once. He supposed that his heart was the main factor, because he had yet to find the elf that would claim it, and his soul. Over these last centuries he had taken fewer and fewer lovers until he stopped all together, always something holding him back, and he was not sure what.
Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel said, “We have seen an increase in orc activity, they seem to be traveling farther from their hovels. And you, how does Mirkwood fare?”
Thranduil sat back with a sigh, “We, also, have noticed that the orcs seem to be roaming farther abroad than was their wont.”
They finished eating with companionable conversation and Glorfindel found he much liked the King’s wit, but continued to see that lustful glint in his eyes that made Glorfindel keep his guard up so as not to lead Thranduil on, for the treaty that Elrond trusted him with was of vital importance to both their realms. Finally Glorfindel asked, “Your Majesty,” he started to say until the King arched his brow at him, “I mean, Thranduil, I would beg your forgiveness, for I still feel weary from my journey and with your permission I would like to take my leave. I would like to be refreshed and well rested for our meeting in the morning.”
Thranduil studied him and decided to give him a reprieve this night. He knew that this treaty was important also, plus he would rather have the Elda well rested, for he would not get much sleep in his bed. Standing, he motioned for Nibenon to come forward and said, “Of course, Lord Glorfindel, you do not need to ask for forgiveness. I want you to feel at ease here. Nibenon will escort you back to you chambers.”
Glorfindel bowed to the King and followed Nibenon from the room, swiping an apple from the table before he went. After they started down the hallway, Glorfindel said, “Mellon nín (My friend), I would like to visit the stables before I retire. I had promised Asfaloth that I would check on him this evening.”
“Of course, My Lord, follow me,” Nibenon said.
When Glorfindel entered the stables, he heard a familiar nicker. “Mellon nín, how are you,” Glorfindel asked as he leaned his forehead against Asfaloth’s and rubbed his neck, while hiding his other hand behind his back. He smiled as Asfaloth nickered again and bumped his shoulder, “What? I am not hiding any thing,” Glorfindel laughed. “Hey!” Glorfindel exclaimed, as Asfaloth grabbed a hold of Glorfindel’s tunic with his teeth, “Okay, okay, here you are,” he said, while handing him the apple.
Glorfindel rubbed Asfaloth’s back for a few minutes then said, “Goodnight, mellon nín, I will see you tomorrow.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imladris
Erestor stood with his arms wrapped around himself, looking out the window of his office, towards the east. He felt so alone all of the time, but it always grew worse when Glorfindel was gone from Imladris. He could not understand why it always affected him so, but next to Lindir, Glorfindel was the only one to give him a semblance of peace. Closing his eyes tightly, Erestor fought the memories that were always lurking in the shadows. To this day Erestor did not understand why he was not allowed to fade, he had grown so cold and a shadow of his former self, like a dying flame, but no matter how hard the winds blew in his life, the flame only flickered, never burning out.
Elrond stood in the doorway and watch Erestor. It broke his heart that he had never healed. It still amazed him that Erestor never faded and wondered why, with the constant torment that he went through.
Slowly, Erestor opened his eyes as he felt Elrond’s presence. Erestor turned and looked at him while he sat down in the chair behind his desk.
Elrond sighed as he saw the haunted look that graced Erestor’s face. Coming to sit before Erestor’s desk, he said, “Mellon nín, when are you going to tell Glorfindel of your past?”
Erestor flinched as if Elrond had struck him. He knew that he owed Glorfindel the truth, but Erestor never had talked about what happened so long ago. The only reason why Elrond knew was because he was the one who saved him. Erestor supposed that was why he never healed; he had never talked about it, always pushed deep inside and with each passing year, it became harder and harder to keep it hidden. Glorfindel was his best friend, ever patient and understanding, never asking too much of him. Part of Erestor wished that Glorfindel would ask him what was wrong, for he was tired of being so alone. Suddenly he became dizzy and his vision dimmed as the memories broke to the surface, catapulting him to that horrific night that had forever changed his life.
Elrond watched as his dark advisor became pale, shivering and his brown eyes clouded, almost making them seem obsidian. He knew that the memories were crashing in on him and had to run their course, which would cause him to pass out. Standing up, Elrond retrieved a blanket from the nearby settee and gently wrapped it around Erestor, careful not to touch him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It will be good to be home, eh, Erestor?” Gelduron said with a grin.
Erestor smile at his friend and threw his arm over his shoulder, “Aye, mellon nín. A soft, warm bed, real food, and the company of others.”
“Hey, and what am I?” Gelduron exclaimed while elbowing Erestor in the side.
Playfully shoving Gelduron, Erestor and he started to wrestle around and those in their party just shook their heads at them. They were always in a jovial mood, joking and playing around.
They were about three days from Lindon and it was nearing dusk, so they were scouting out a safe place to make camp when they came across another traveling party of elves. At once, Erestor felt uncomfortable around these elves but he could not figure out why, for they did not do anything that would be deemed offensive.
“Why do you not come camp with us, mellyn nín (my friends)? We are camped not far from here,” Mauron, the leader, asked.
Gelduron looked to Erestor, then said, “Hannon le (Thank you), Mauron.”
An hour later, they came upon Mauron’s camp. There was a tent erected and a fire blazing with a boar rotating on a spit. They all sat around the fire, laughing and eating together, yet Erestor still felt uneasy and Gelduron noticed, “Mellon nín, what bothers you so?”
Erestor sighed, “I do not know, I just feel ill at ease around these elves and I do not know why?”
Throwing his arm around Erestor’s shoulders, Gelduron pulled him close to his side, sharing their body heat, hoping that would help calm his friend. They had grown up together and were the best of friends and lovers when the mood struck them. Erestor and he were not soul mates, yet there was a bond between them none the less, more like a blood bond, though they were not kin.
Erestor leaned his head on Gelduron’s shoulder and neither of them saw Mauron give them lustful looks. Soon the bedrolls were laid out and the camp fell silent as elves took their rest. Erestor did not know how long he had been asleep when a hand was clamped over his mouth and he was roughly pulled to his feet. Struggling, Erestor tried to fight his captor when he looked down and saw Gelduron lying on the ground, unconscious. Erestor fought harder at seeing his friend upon the ground and was cuffed on the head, causing his vision to whirl. As he was pulled towards the tent he heard screams rent through the air and looked, and to his horror, he saw his fellow companions being violated while a crowd cheered on and arguments broke out on who would be next. Sickness came over Erestor and he struggled harder and was hit once again on the head, making his body go limp as black spots filled his vision. The next thing Erestor knew, he was being lashed to a pole, his arms above his head. Breathing hard he yelled, “Why! Why are you doing this?”
An evil laugh filled the tent as Mauron came through the door, dragging Gelduron along with him, “My pet, we take what we want, and what we want is you and your companions. It has been quite awhile since we have had our pick of such tasty morsels such as yourselves.”
Erestor paled at the malicious tone of Mauron’s voice. ‘How could elves do this to others of their kind’ Erestor thought to himself. The nightmare was growing far worse as he watched Mauron tie a still unconscious Gelduron to a table. “Saes, take me! Do with me what you will, just leave Gelduron be,” Erestor pleaded.
Mauron walked over to Erestor and ran a finger down his cheek, “Oh, you will have your turn, my pet. But first I want you to watch while I take your friend here, for I have fancied him from the moment I saw him. I take great pleasure in breaking others, and I feel you will be a challenge and I like challenges.”
Spitting in Mauron’s’ face Erestor glared at him, “How can you call yourself an elf? You are no better than a filthy, evil orc!”
Mauron snarled and punched Erestor in the stomach, knocking the air out of him, “Yes, I will take great pleasure in breaking you, my pet.”
And that was when the true horror started. Erestor had no way to get free and he had hoped that Gelduron would stay unconscious during the ordeal, but it was not to be, for he woke before Mauron had finished ripping his garment off. Tears filled his eyes as the realization came to Gelduron of what was happening to him. They both could hear the screaming coming from outside and soon there were screams coming from inside the tent, which only seemed to excite Mauron all the more. Erestor did not know how long this torture went on, he was only thankful that Gelduron had passed out a short time into his torment, leaving Erestor to watch, for if he would try to look away he was hit and his head force back toward the table by the elf that was guarding him.
By the time it started to grow light outside, Erestor was bruised and bleeding on various parts of his torso and his shoulders hurt from the strain of holding up the weight of his body. When he thought that he could not take another second there was a commotion outside the tent and then a Savior came crashing into the tent. An arrow whizzed by Erestor’s head and he felt the guard behind him crumble to the ground and then watched as the silver of the Savior’s sword ran Mauron through, ending his evil existence.
His bonds cut, Erestor stumbled towards Gelduron, who was being released and cared for by his Savior. Looking into the steel-color eyes, Erestor saw the truth in them, Gelduron was dying. All the rage and pain Erestor was feeling suddenly gave him strength and he shoved his Savior across the tent and gathered Gelduron into his arms, rocking him. Weeping, Erestor soothed the hair away from Gelduron’s face and laid kisses upon his brow. He did not know how long he sat there, cradling his friend when Gelduron’s eyes fluttered open, “Mellon nín,” Erestor breathed.
A tear fell down Gelduron’s cheek and with his last breath whispered, “Erestor.”
That was the day Erestor’s fear of other’s touch took hold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elrond caught Erestor as he passed out, swinging him up into his arms and started for his chambers, thankful that the memories were over, at least for now. Gently laying Erestor on his bed, Elrond took off his boots and outer robe and sat down next to him. Taking Erestor’s hands into his, Elrond sent healing energy into his body, giving Erestor much needed body contact. It was not normal or healthy for an elf to go so long without another’s touch and through the years Elrond had to resort to slipping Erestor sleeping draughts so he could hold the dark-haired elf and send healing energy into his body, like he was doing now. Elrond stayed there, using as much of his energy as he could, until he felt his body weaken, then released his hands. Covering Erestor up, he built a fire in the fireplace to warm the bedchamber, then left after taking one more look at his friend, tears blurring his vision as he made his way down the hallway to his suites.
TBC
Author: Janalynn27
Type: FPS
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, Rape, Non-con, AU
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. No disrespect is intended and no profit is being made.
Beta: Patricia Pleasant aka slayer9649, Thanks a bunch! Any other mistakes are of my making.
Summary: Glorfindel uses Erestor as a shield to say no to a suitor and Erestor is tormented by the past.
Timeline: Early TA
Feedback: It is greatly appreciated
Author's note: Okay, I know Greenwood the Great wasn't called Mirkwood until about 1050 TA but in my story it is already called Mirkwood. The twins are around 22 yrs. Old which is about 8 human yrs. Old.
Chapter 3
The council meeting had just gotten over and Nibenon waited for the advisors to depart the chamber before venturing forward to bow in front of his Lord. “Your Majesty, I am here to let you know that Lord Glorfindel and his party arrived a few hours ago.”
Thranduil scowled and demanded, “And why was I not informed, at once, upon their arrival.”
Taking a deep breath from his suddenly restricted lungs, Nibenon said, “But, Majesty, you said you were not to be disturbed unless it was of vital importance.”
Thranduil sat back and said in a softer tone, “I apologize, Nibenon, of course you were doing only what you were told. But Lord Glorfindel must be treated with the utmost respect while he is here. I suppose he is still resting from his long journey?”
Bowing once again, Nibenon said, “Yes, Majesty. Do you want to be told when he awakes?”
“Yes, at once. I want dinner brought to my personal dining chamber and him brought there as soon as he wakes,” Thranduil said with a wave of his hand in dismissal.
“I will see to it personally, Your Majesty,” Nibenon bowed then left the council chamber.
After Nibenon departed, Thranduil sat back in his chair and thought of the one and only time that he had met the Elda. Thranduil had journeyed to Imladris for a short visit to discuss happenings in and around his and Elrond’s realms. Lord Glorfindel had been on patrol when Thranduil had arrived and only returned two days before his scheduled departure. Thranduil had truly been mesmerized by the sight of the warrior; bare-chested, sparring in the training field. From that moment on, he was consumed by lust for the born again ellon (m. elf). Much to Thranduil’s chagrin, he could not justify his staying another day longer, for he needed to return to Mirkwood and his people. Now the Golden Warrior was here, in his home, and it made Thranduil almost giddy in thinking of Lord Glorfindel gracing his bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After getting some rest and a refreshing bath, Glorfindel was ready to start his mission, for he did not want to linger in Mirkwood any longer than he had to. Nibenon had appeared at his chamber door to inform him that he was to dine with King Thranduil in his personal dining chamber.
Thranduil looked up as Nibenon escorted Glorfindel into the room and he stood, “My Lord Glorfindel, I hope your journey here was safe?”
Bowing slightly, “Yes, your Majesty, we did not encounter too many difficulties on our way here.”
Coming forward to stand before Glorfindel, the King said, “Saes (Please) call me Thranduil.”
Glorfindel was a little shocked at the informality of King Thranduil’s conduct, but none the less, bowed once more and said, “Thranduil.”
“Come, sit and eat, I am sure you are famished,” Thranduil motioned to the mahogany wood table that was set with silver platters of various foods.
Glorfindel followed Thranduil to the table as he looked about the chamber. There were rich tapestries hanging on the walls, lush carpets graced the floor, and there was a huge fireplace, lined on each side with shelves that held books and other odds and ends. After sitting down, servants came forward and filled their glasses with wine and their plates with food.
Thranduil watched the Slayer as he set about eating. ‘How magnificent he looks,’ he thought to himself. “So, Lord Glorfindel, tell me, how goes the security in Imladris?” Thranduil asked as he started to eat himself.
Glorfindel took another sip of his wine. He had noticed out of the corner of his eye that the King had been studying him and he did not miss the lustful look he gave him. Glorfindel mentally sighed, ‘He would have to tread carefully so as not to offend the King,’ he thought. It was not that Thranduil was unattractive; he was tall with broad shoulders. His hair rivaled Glorfindel’s own in its radiance, and not for the first time did Glorfindel wonder why he was reluctant to take a lover. Before, in Gondolin, he was very passionate, not going more than a few days without engaging in the pleasures of the body. It was not that he flaunted himself around or took pleasure without thinking, for he never left his lover wanting, whether it be ellon (m. elf) or elleth (f. elf). But ever since he returned to Arda, he was not quite the same. He took lovers, but never dallied with them more than once. He supposed that his heart was the main factor, because he had yet to find the elf that would claim it, and his soul. Over these last centuries he had taken fewer and fewer lovers until he stopped all together, always something holding him back, and he was not sure what.
Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel said, “We have seen an increase in orc activity, they seem to be traveling farther from their hovels. And you, how does Mirkwood fare?”
Thranduil sat back with a sigh, “We, also, have noticed that the orcs seem to be roaming farther abroad than was their wont.”
They finished eating with companionable conversation and Glorfindel found he much liked the King’s wit, but continued to see that lustful glint in his eyes that made Glorfindel keep his guard up so as not to lead Thranduil on, for the treaty that Elrond trusted him with was of vital importance to both their realms. Finally Glorfindel asked, “Your Majesty,” he started to say until the King arched his brow at him, “I mean, Thranduil, I would beg your forgiveness, for I still feel weary from my journey and with your permission I would like to take my leave. I would like to be refreshed and well rested for our meeting in the morning.”
Thranduil studied him and decided to give him a reprieve this night. He knew that this treaty was important also, plus he would rather have the Elda well rested, for he would not get much sleep in his bed. Standing, he motioned for Nibenon to come forward and said, “Of course, Lord Glorfindel, you do not need to ask for forgiveness. I want you to feel at ease here. Nibenon will escort you back to you chambers.”
Glorfindel bowed to the King and followed Nibenon from the room, swiping an apple from the table before he went. After they started down the hallway, Glorfindel said, “Mellon nín (My friend), I would like to visit the stables before I retire. I had promised Asfaloth that I would check on him this evening.”
“Of course, My Lord, follow me,” Nibenon said.
When Glorfindel entered the stables, he heard a familiar nicker. “Mellon nín, how are you,” Glorfindel asked as he leaned his forehead against Asfaloth’s and rubbed his neck, while hiding his other hand behind his back. He smiled as Asfaloth nickered again and bumped his shoulder, “What? I am not hiding any thing,” Glorfindel laughed. “Hey!” Glorfindel exclaimed, as Asfaloth grabbed a hold of Glorfindel’s tunic with his teeth, “Okay, okay, here you are,” he said, while handing him the apple.
Glorfindel rubbed Asfaloth’s back for a few minutes then said, “Goodnight, mellon nín, I will see you tomorrow.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imladris
Erestor stood with his arms wrapped around himself, looking out the window of his office, towards the east. He felt so alone all of the time, but it always grew worse when Glorfindel was gone from Imladris. He could not understand why it always affected him so, but next to Lindir, Glorfindel was the only one to give him a semblance of peace. Closing his eyes tightly, Erestor fought the memories that were always lurking in the shadows. To this day Erestor did not understand why he was not allowed to fade, he had grown so cold and a shadow of his former self, like a dying flame, but no matter how hard the winds blew in his life, the flame only flickered, never burning out.
Elrond stood in the doorway and watch Erestor. It broke his heart that he had never healed. It still amazed him that Erestor never faded and wondered why, with the constant torment that he went through.
Slowly, Erestor opened his eyes as he felt Elrond’s presence. Erestor turned and looked at him while he sat down in the chair behind his desk.
Elrond sighed as he saw the haunted look that graced Erestor’s face. Coming to sit before Erestor’s desk, he said, “Mellon nín, when are you going to tell Glorfindel of your past?”
Erestor flinched as if Elrond had struck him. He knew that he owed Glorfindel the truth, but Erestor never had talked about what happened so long ago. The only reason why Elrond knew was because he was the one who saved him. Erestor supposed that was why he never healed; he had never talked about it, always pushed deep inside and with each passing year, it became harder and harder to keep it hidden. Glorfindel was his best friend, ever patient and understanding, never asking too much of him. Part of Erestor wished that Glorfindel would ask him what was wrong, for he was tired of being so alone. Suddenly he became dizzy and his vision dimmed as the memories broke to the surface, catapulting him to that horrific night that had forever changed his life.
Elrond watched as his dark advisor became pale, shivering and his brown eyes clouded, almost making them seem obsidian. He knew that the memories were crashing in on him and had to run their course, which would cause him to pass out. Standing up, Elrond retrieved a blanket from the nearby settee and gently wrapped it around Erestor, careful not to touch him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It will be good to be home, eh, Erestor?” Gelduron said with a grin.
Erestor smile at his friend and threw his arm over his shoulder, “Aye, mellon nín. A soft, warm bed, real food, and the company of others.”
“Hey, and what am I?” Gelduron exclaimed while elbowing Erestor in the side.
Playfully shoving Gelduron, Erestor and he started to wrestle around and those in their party just shook their heads at them. They were always in a jovial mood, joking and playing around.
They were about three days from Lindon and it was nearing dusk, so they were scouting out a safe place to make camp when they came across another traveling party of elves. At once, Erestor felt uncomfortable around these elves but he could not figure out why, for they did not do anything that would be deemed offensive.
“Why do you not come camp with us, mellyn nín (my friends)? We are camped not far from here,” Mauron, the leader, asked.
Gelduron looked to Erestor, then said, “Hannon le (Thank you), Mauron.”
An hour later, they came upon Mauron’s camp. There was a tent erected and a fire blazing with a boar rotating on a spit. They all sat around the fire, laughing and eating together, yet Erestor still felt uneasy and Gelduron noticed, “Mellon nín, what bothers you so?”
Erestor sighed, “I do not know, I just feel ill at ease around these elves and I do not know why?”
Throwing his arm around Erestor’s shoulders, Gelduron pulled him close to his side, sharing their body heat, hoping that would help calm his friend. They had grown up together and were the best of friends and lovers when the mood struck them. Erestor and he were not soul mates, yet there was a bond between them none the less, more like a blood bond, though they were not kin.
Erestor leaned his head on Gelduron’s shoulder and neither of them saw Mauron give them lustful looks. Soon the bedrolls were laid out and the camp fell silent as elves took their rest. Erestor did not know how long he had been asleep when a hand was clamped over his mouth and he was roughly pulled to his feet. Struggling, Erestor tried to fight his captor when he looked down and saw Gelduron lying on the ground, unconscious. Erestor fought harder at seeing his friend upon the ground and was cuffed on the head, causing his vision to whirl. As he was pulled towards the tent he heard screams rent through the air and looked, and to his horror, he saw his fellow companions being violated while a crowd cheered on and arguments broke out on who would be next. Sickness came over Erestor and he struggled harder and was hit once again on the head, making his body go limp as black spots filled his vision. The next thing Erestor knew, he was being lashed to a pole, his arms above his head. Breathing hard he yelled, “Why! Why are you doing this?”
An evil laugh filled the tent as Mauron came through the door, dragging Gelduron along with him, “My pet, we take what we want, and what we want is you and your companions. It has been quite awhile since we have had our pick of such tasty morsels such as yourselves.”
Erestor paled at the malicious tone of Mauron’s voice. ‘How could elves do this to others of their kind’ Erestor thought to himself. The nightmare was growing far worse as he watched Mauron tie a still unconscious Gelduron to a table. “Saes, take me! Do with me what you will, just leave Gelduron be,” Erestor pleaded.
Mauron walked over to Erestor and ran a finger down his cheek, “Oh, you will have your turn, my pet. But first I want you to watch while I take your friend here, for I have fancied him from the moment I saw him. I take great pleasure in breaking others, and I feel you will be a challenge and I like challenges.”
Spitting in Mauron’s’ face Erestor glared at him, “How can you call yourself an elf? You are no better than a filthy, evil orc!”
Mauron snarled and punched Erestor in the stomach, knocking the air out of him, “Yes, I will take great pleasure in breaking you, my pet.”
And that was when the true horror started. Erestor had no way to get free and he had hoped that Gelduron would stay unconscious during the ordeal, but it was not to be, for he woke before Mauron had finished ripping his garment off. Tears filled his eyes as the realization came to Gelduron of what was happening to him. They both could hear the screaming coming from outside and soon there were screams coming from inside the tent, which only seemed to excite Mauron all the more. Erestor did not know how long this torture went on, he was only thankful that Gelduron had passed out a short time into his torment, leaving Erestor to watch, for if he would try to look away he was hit and his head force back toward the table by the elf that was guarding him.
By the time it started to grow light outside, Erestor was bruised and bleeding on various parts of his torso and his shoulders hurt from the strain of holding up the weight of his body. When he thought that he could not take another second there was a commotion outside the tent and then a Savior came crashing into the tent. An arrow whizzed by Erestor’s head and he felt the guard behind him crumble to the ground and then watched as the silver of the Savior’s sword ran Mauron through, ending his evil existence.
His bonds cut, Erestor stumbled towards Gelduron, who was being released and cared for by his Savior. Looking into the steel-color eyes, Erestor saw the truth in them, Gelduron was dying. All the rage and pain Erestor was feeling suddenly gave him strength and he shoved his Savior across the tent and gathered Gelduron into his arms, rocking him. Weeping, Erestor soothed the hair away from Gelduron’s face and laid kisses upon his brow. He did not know how long he sat there, cradling his friend when Gelduron’s eyes fluttered open, “Mellon nín,” Erestor breathed.
A tear fell down Gelduron’s cheek and with his last breath whispered, “Erestor.”
That was the day Erestor’s fear of other’s touch took hold.
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Elrond caught Erestor as he passed out, swinging him up into his arms and started for his chambers, thankful that the memories were over, at least for now. Gently laying Erestor on his bed, Elrond took off his boots and outer robe and sat down next to him. Taking Erestor’s hands into his, Elrond sent healing energy into his body, giving Erestor much needed body contact. It was not normal or healthy for an elf to go so long without another’s touch and through the years Elrond had to resort to slipping Erestor sleeping draughts so he could hold the dark-haired elf and send healing energy into his body, like he was doing now. Elrond stayed there, using as much of his energy as he could, until he felt his body weaken, then released his hands. Covering Erestor up, he built a fire in the fireplace to warm the bedchamber, then left after taking one more look at his friend, tears blurring his vision as he made his way down the hallway to his suites.
TBC