Sleeping Erestor

Title: Sleeping Erestor
Author: MaelleConstance
Part: 3/?
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: I do not own any elves; they belong to Tolkien's estate. The story line belongs to the Mouse. And I make no profit from it, darn it!
Warning: None
Beta: None; all spelling mistakes and grammatical fantasies are mine.
Summary: Erestor is the victime of an evil spell. Who will save him? ( As if you did not know!)
Author's Notes: The story line follows the one in Disney's adaptation of Sleeping Beauty, a tale by Charles Perreault, since it is my all time favorite Disney movie.
Written for the Fairy Tale Challenge at Erestor_Lovers.

Many thanks to everyone who took time to leave reviews. It is greatly appreciated and it makes me write faster!


The next week.


It had been a very long first week for the three godfathers. Getting used to one another living habits had been painful. Especially for Celeborn. Compared to him, Gil-Galad and Thranduil were mere elflings for the Sinda lord had seen many, many millennia upon his arrival at the cottage. Most of these multiple years had been spend with his mate, the Lady Galadriel. It was fair to say that after such a long time together, the couple had established quite the routine.

The very first thing that had bother Celeborn had been to wake up alone. He could not shake the "something is missing" feeling. Then he had missed Galadriel's voice; he never realized until that day how much he had grown accustomed to her talking all the time. Celeborn was even more disturbed when he realized that Thranduil talking all the time had become quite a good substitute for the babbling of his wife. In addition, there was the whole "living on the ground" thing. That, Celeborn knew, he would never be accustomed to.

For Gil-Galad, things were a bit easier, the cottage belonging to him after all. He was in his own environment. However, he too quickly found out that something was missing, namely Elrond, although he would never had admitted it. Especially not in Thranduil's presence. The Noldo king could not fathom living the next 500 years under the constant teasing of the Wood Elf. Thranduil had enough munitions against him as it was.

For Thranduil, things had turned into a nightmare on the second day. Suddenly, he had realized that it had been a whole 24 hours since his last drink. He began to panic. Where in this Valar forsaken place would he find alcohol? He put to work on this problem all the remaining functioning brains cell he had left. It took him a whole hour to remember how much Gil-Galad loved to live comfortably. His table's reputation was known even in Mirkwood. Ereinion would never live in a place where he would not have something good to eat... or to drink. Thranduil deduced that his good friend Ernie must had a secret hiding place for his favorite wine. The booze was somewhere hidden and only waiting to be found out. Thranduil went to work.

Baby Erestor was perfectly happy in his new environment. After all, he was fed, bathed, changed, played with and sang to. At such an early age, he did not ask for more. The three godfathers were also getting more at ease with such a small elfling. Both Thranduil and Gil-Galad were still childless but Celeborn already had his daughter, the beautiful Celebrian which meant that he had experience. At his court, Ereinion had been around children long enough not to be completely lost with Erestor. Thranduil however...

On the fourth day, the Wood Elf had entered the cottage in a near panic state. He had been playing outside with baby Erestor, trying to teach him birds name when something happened.

-There is something wrong with the baby.

He was holding Erestor as far away from himself as he could.

-I think that Saruman's curse is having an early side effect.

-What to you mean? asked a concerned Celeborn.

-I think the baby is decomposing.

-What?!?

-Yes; everything was fine until a moment ago when he began to smell weird. I am telling you, something terrible is happening to him.

Celeborn's head dropped to his chest in an attempt not to laugh at Thranduil's face. Over the past days, the Wood Elf had been preoccupied with some secret mission and had not paid any attention whatsoever at how to care for Erestor other than rocking him to sleep or signing to him.

-Thranduil, Erestor is not decomposing. He had soiled his cloths.

-He had what? Why would he do that?

-Thran, he is far too young to know how to use the privy; that is why he does his bodily function in his cloths. He just needs to be changed. Come here, I will teach you how.

Celeborn took Erestor from his clueless godfather's arms and began to change him. Thranduil watched carefully until Celeborn open the soiled cloth.

-Holy Eru's arse! What are you feeding this child! Valar, I think I am going to be sick.

He ran outside. Erestor cooed and Celeborn laughed merrily.

-He sometime swims in spider's blood and guts and this is making him sick? I will never understand your uncle Thran.
After finishing cleaning and dressing the baby, Celeborn went to search for Thranduil. He found him sitting under and oak, shivering.

-Are you all right? You look a little pale.

-I will be fine.

Erestor giggled and raised his arms in Thranduil's direction. Looking at the beautiful smiling face of the elfling, Thran could not resist and took him back.

-He will be fine for a few hours, informed Celeborn.

-Thank you.

Some minutes later, the Sinda lord heard Thranduil's voice coming from the bathing room. Curious, he approached the door.

-This is the privy. As you can see, it is a kind of bowl with some water in it. It is use to do what you did in you cloths.

There was a moment of silence.

-Well, I can see that for one, you cannot stand up yet and two, you are still too short to reach the bowl. And if I try to make you sit on it, you fall inside. This is a problem. But do not worry, little one. You will soon be grown up to the perfect size.

Celeborn smiled. In his own way, Thranduil could be quite adorable. When he wanted too, of course.

On the second week of their stay in the cottage, Celeborn approached Gil-Galad with some disturbing new.

-I am sorry to tell you this, Ereirion, but I think that Thranduil has found your wine cellar.

-What? Where is he?

-He is sitting under the big oak, as always. Maybe the oak has adopted him.

Gil-Galad was in no mood for jokes. He quickly found the Wood Elf.

-What do you think you are doing?

-I am enjoying this wonderful vintage, Ernie. It really was a shame to let it go to waist in that damp cave.

-Thranduil, this wine is not for gobbling down when you are thirsty; it is meant to be enjoyed with a good meal...

-I have a good meal, look.

He showed Gil-Galad a piece of bread and an apple.

-Thran, I warn you: stay away from my cellar!

-Why? It is not as if we have much to do around here! I have already killed all the spiders in the house!

-May I remind you that we are not here for our own enjoyment, ; we are here to raise and protect Erestor.

-I am protecting Erestor! I told you, I have killed all the spiders!

Celeborn pulled Gil-Galad back and murmured:

-It will do no good to argue with him; now that he has found the wine, he will drink it.

-But Celeborn, we cannot have him drunk all the time!

-There is no real danger yet and unless I am mistaking, your wine cellar is not enchanted, is it?

-Of course not! What does it have to do with anything?

-The wine will ran out, eventually. It is better that it runs out now when Erestor is still too young to notice Thranduil's behavior.

Gil-Galad thought about it for an instant.

-You are right, of course.

He then turned to face Thranduil.

-All right, Thran; I give up. Drink all you want.

-Really? Thanks, Ernie. You are a true friend.

-Right.

After that incident, nothing of importance really disturbed the life at the cottage. While Thranduil was making his way through Gil-Galad's cellar, Erestor was growing up, becoming more and more beautiful with each day that passed. His hair, luxuriously abundant, ran down his back like a dark river. His skin remained of the palest ivory, soft and warm to the touch. Celeborn and Gil-Galad had taken upon them to teach him to read and write, even thought they were without quills, of course. Celeborn came up with the idea: he spread a fine coat of flour on the kitchen table and using a finely carved stick, Erestor could write his letters in the flour. Thranduil had carved the stick one day when he had been mostly sober. Celeborn and Gil-Galad were also teaching Erestor about history and the Great Music, Eru and the Valar. Thranduil was teaching the young elf about the world around them; trees and how they were talking to him; forest animals good or bad, placing the spiders in the "bad" category and failing to think of another evil one until he though about the wargs years later. All three of them quickly noted how intelligent the young elf was. Erestor was absorbing knowledge as fast as Thranduil was absorbing Ereinion's wine. However, the wine was limited and soon ran out. Erestor's intelligent seemed endless.

The greatest fear of the three godfathers was that Erestor would begin to ask about the world outside the forest. Or about his parents. Celeborn in particular knew those questions were coming and feared what he would give as answers. Erestor's majority was approaching fast and Celeborn would be soon faced with to great challenge: Erestor's curiosity and Thranduil's forced sobriety. None looked too appealing to him. However, on one of these problems, a solution soon presented itself.

Tbc...