Cinderestor
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,292
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,292
Reviews:
15
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
Title: Cinderestor
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lynsey_schadegg/
Beta: Your Mother (aka Books)
Chapter: 3/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warnings: Allusions to torture.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summery: A Dark!Cinderella inspired story featuring Erestor and Glorfindel.
As he mounted the stairs to enter the House of the Golden Flower, Erestor remembered Gandalf’s warnings, “Remember, Erestor. You must return before your step-family does, or else they will know you were absent.” The dark beauty one more smoothed the fabric of his robe, and fingered the locket about his neck. The locket had been his mother’s, and one of the few items he had hidden in his special spot beside the fireplace. Inside, it contained a miniature portrait of both his father and his mother. Erestor looked the most like his mother…a spitting image actually. All except coloring. While his mother had hair the color of an evening sunset, his father had gifted Erestor with the raven dark tresses he sported.
Erestor reached the top of the steps, and he nodded to the guards at the door. One guard raised an appreciative eyebrow. He entered the doors into the foyer, and he was met by a servant.
“This way,” gestured the elf. He lead Erestor down a long corridor to a set of gilded double doors which were open wide. Erestor was dumbstruck by the sheer opulence of what he saw. Gloriously clad elves whirled around a parquet dance floor, and, standing near the door greeting the arriving guests, was Glorfindel. The Lord was dressed as a golden eagle, and he had never seemed more majestic to Erestor.
Erestor’s hand went to his face to ensure that the mask that covered the upper part of his face was made out of black silk and raven feathers was still in place. He stepped forward with a hesitant smile on his face, and immediately blanched when he realized who was hanging on Glorfindel’s arm. Celairion, looking as stunning as the sun he was dressed as, seemingly held all of Glorfindel’s attention. Erestor’s forward motion halted, and he nearly turned to flee, but Glorfindel’s cerulean eyes raised and met Erestor’s cinnamon brown orbs.
Everything seemed to melt away as Glorfindel gazed at those eyes, eyes that had haunted his dreams for more years than he cared to count. Forgetting the blond bimbo attached to his side, Glorfindel moved forward and grasped a slender, shaking hand in his. He bowed low over that hand, his eyes ever holding the chocolate gaze. He pressed a light kiss to the back of Erestor’s hand and stood. “Would you like to dance?” he asked the vision in black satin, unaware of the evil glare Celairion was bestowing upon the couple.
“Of course, my Lord,” Erestor said quietly. Glorfindel gently took Erestor’s arm, guiding him out onto the dance floor.
Erestor hardly knew what to do. He was whirled around the floor amidst flowing gowns and sparkling robes as he was drowned in the blue regard of Glorfindel’s eyes. After several songs, Glorfindel whirled Erestor onto an empty balcony. There, he drew the dark elf close, much closer than proper etiquette demanded. He tucked the raven head under his chin and held the thin body tight to his.
“You are so small,” whispered Glorfindel, the first words he had spoken since he had asked Erestor to dance.
Erestor merely nodded. As Glorfindel continued to sway with him in his arms, Erestor managed to glance into the ballroom. He made a sound of alarm as he saw Celairion and his family leave through the double doors.
The dark elf pulled away in a near panic, fear of Celairion and the Lady‘s anger if he was not home when they arrived overrode any thinking on Erestor‘s part. “I…I have to go!” Erestor escaped the protective embrace of Glorfindel’s arms. Glorfindel made a grab for the smaller elf, but instead he caught hold of the locket around Erestor’s neck and it broke free as Erestor twisted. Erestor ran as soon as he was free, bolting around party goers as fast as he could.
“Wait! Wait, please!” cried Glorfindel. He tried to fight his way through the massed elves, but he was inundated with proposals as soon as others realized he was alone.
Glorfindel fought his way through crowd, eventually making it to the doors. He ran down the hallways and outside his home, looking in vain for a glimpse of black hair or robes. Seeing none, he sat dejectedly on the stairs looking at the locket he had clasped in his hands. He opened it, looking at the miniatures inside. Nothing on the locket denoted the elf’s house or his name. “I did not even ask his name. How could I be so stupid?”
“Glorfindel?” The golden lord turned at the sound of his father’s voice. “What has happened.”
“I met the elf of my dreams, and I let him get away. I do not even know his name. All I have is this,” Glorfindel handed his father the locket.
The other lord looked at the locket critically. “I do not know these elves, but someone may. We will search Gondolin, going door to door if we have to. Someone must know who these elves are, and that may lead us to your elf.”
Glorfindel stood and embraced his father. “Thank you, Ada. Thank you.”
“We will start our search in the morning.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Erestor ran as fast as his feet would carry him, but nearly collapsed as he neared his home. To many years of undernourishment and beatings did not make for a healthy elf. He entered the stables first, hastily removing the robes and his mask. He pulled on his dirty, torn clothing as fast as he could, and bolted to the house. There were no lights showing in the windows. Was he safe? Had he arrived before his family?
He slowly opened the back door and stepped inside, only to be grabbed by the hair and flung to the ground. A flint sounded and light flared as a candle was lit. Erestor looked up from his position on the floor, fearful of what was to come.
“Where have you been, beautiful one?” Celairion asked.
Erestor bowed low to the ground, cowering in front of the elf and his mother, who sat at the kitchen table. “I was tending the animals,” he said in a quivering voice.
The Lady stood and grasped Erestor’s hair. “Since when did you need to have clean and braided hair to tend the animals?”
Erestor cursed himself. He had forgotten that his hair had been cleaned and braided by Gandalf before he had left. “I….I’m sorry my Lady. I…just wanted to be clean,” he finished lamely.
“This pretty hair looks awfully familiar,” Celairion remarked, reaching out to fiddle with a thin braid. “I seem to remember a dark haired elf at a certain ball with his hair done just like this. If I remember right, he usurped a certain Lord of the Golden Flower for the entire evening.” Erestor paled and felt dizzy as his heart threatened to stop from fear.
“Teach our little darkling what it means to misbehave in such a manner, Celairion. I am going to sleep.” The Lady made for the door, but turned her head for a last remark, “Remember to gag him. I do not wish to be awakened by the screams.”
“Yes, Mother.”
TBC
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lynsey_schadegg/
Beta: Your Mother (aka Books)
Chapter: 3/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warnings: Allusions to torture.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summery: A Dark!Cinderella inspired story featuring Erestor and Glorfindel.
As he mounted the stairs to enter the House of the Golden Flower, Erestor remembered Gandalf’s warnings, “Remember, Erestor. You must return before your step-family does, or else they will know you were absent.” The dark beauty one more smoothed the fabric of his robe, and fingered the locket about his neck. The locket had been his mother’s, and one of the few items he had hidden in his special spot beside the fireplace. Inside, it contained a miniature portrait of both his father and his mother. Erestor looked the most like his mother…a spitting image actually. All except coloring. While his mother had hair the color of an evening sunset, his father had gifted Erestor with the raven dark tresses he sported.
Erestor reached the top of the steps, and he nodded to the guards at the door. One guard raised an appreciative eyebrow. He entered the doors into the foyer, and he was met by a servant.
“This way,” gestured the elf. He lead Erestor down a long corridor to a set of gilded double doors which were open wide. Erestor was dumbstruck by the sheer opulence of what he saw. Gloriously clad elves whirled around a parquet dance floor, and, standing near the door greeting the arriving guests, was Glorfindel. The Lord was dressed as a golden eagle, and he had never seemed more majestic to Erestor.
Erestor’s hand went to his face to ensure that the mask that covered the upper part of his face was made out of black silk and raven feathers was still in place. He stepped forward with a hesitant smile on his face, and immediately blanched when he realized who was hanging on Glorfindel’s arm. Celairion, looking as stunning as the sun he was dressed as, seemingly held all of Glorfindel’s attention. Erestor’s forward motion halted, and he nearly turned to flee, but Glorfindel’s cerulean eyes raised and met Erestor’s cinnamon brown orbs.
Everything seemed to melt away as Glorfindel gazed at those eyes, eyes that had haunted his dreams for more years than he cared to count. Forgetting the blond bimbo attached to his side, Glorfindel moved forward and grasped a slender, shaking hand in his. He bowed low over that hand, his eyes ever holding the chocolate gaze. He pressed a light kiss to the back of Erestor’s hand and stood. “Would you like to dance?” he asked the vision in black satin, unaware of the evil glare Celairion was bestowing upon the couple.
“Of course, my Lord,” Erestor said quietly. Glorfindel gently took Erestor’s arm, guiding him out onto the dance floor.
Erestor hardly knew what to do. He was whirled around the floor amidst flowing gowns and sparkling robes as he was drowned in the blue regard of Glorfindel’s eyes. After several songs, Glorfindel whirled Erestor onto an empty balcony. There, he drew the dark elf close, much closer than proper etiquette demanded. He tucked the raven head under his chin and held the thin body tight to his.
“You are so small,” whispered Glorfindel, the first words he had spoken since he had asked Erestor to dance.
Erestor merely nodded. As Glorfindel continued to sway with him in his arms, Erestor managed to glance into the ballroom. He made a sound of alarm as he saw Celairion and his family leave through the double doors.
The dark elf pulled away in a near panic, fear of Celairion and the Lady‘s anger if he was not home when they arrived overrode any thinking on Erestor‘s part. “I…I have to go!” Erestor escaped the protective embrace of Glorfindel’s arms. Glorfindel made a grab for the smaller elf, but instead he caught hold of the locket around Erestor’s neck and it broke free as Erestor twisted. Erestor ran as soon as he was free, bolting around party goers as fast as he could.
“Wait! Wait, please!” cried Glorfindel. He tried to fight his way through the massed elves, but he was inundated with proposals as soon as others realized he was alone.
Glorfindel fought his way through crowd, eventually making it to the doors. He ran down the hallways and outside his home, looking in vain for a glimpse of black hair or robes. Seeing none, he sat dejectedly on the stairs looking at the locket he had clasped in his hands. He opened it, looking at the miniatures inside. Nothing on the locket denoted the elf’s house or his name. “I did not even ask his name. How could I be so stupid?”
“Glorfindel?” The golden lord turned at the sound of his father’s voice. “What has happened.”
“I met the elf of my dreams, and I let him get away. I do not even know his name. All I have is this,” Glorfindel handed his father the locket.
The other lord looked at the locket critically. “I do not know these elves, but someone may. We will search Gondolin, going door to door if we have to. Someone must know who these elves are, and that may lead us to your elf.”
Glorfindel stood and embraced his father. “Thank you, Ada. Thank you.”
“We will start our search in the morning.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Erestor ran as fast as his feet would carry him, but nearly collapsed as he neared his home. To many years of undernourishment and beatings did not make for a healthy elf. He entered the stables first, hastily removing the robes and his mask. He pulled on his dirty, torn clothing as fast as he could, and bolted to the house. There were no lights showing in the windows. Was he safe? Had he arrived before his family?
He slowly opened the back door and stepped inside, only to be grabbed by the hair and flung to the ground. A flint sounded and light flared as a candle was lit. Erestor looked up from his position on the floor, fearful of what was to come.
“Where have you been, beautiful one?” Celairion asked.
Erestor bowed low to the ground, cowering in front of the elf and his mother, who sat at the kitchen table. “I was tending the animals,” he said in a quivering voice.
The Lady stood and grasped Erestor’s hair. “Since when did you need to have clean and braided hair to tend the animals?”
Erestor cursed himself. He had forgotten that his hair had been cleaned and braided by Gandalf before he had left. “I….I’m sorry my Lady. I…just wanted to be clean,” he finished lamely.
“This pretty hair looks awfully familiar,” Celairion remarked, reaching out to fiddle with a thin braid. “I seem to remember a dark haired elf at a certain ball with his hair done just like this. If I remember right, he usurped a certain Lord of the Golden Flower for the entire evening.” Erestor paled and felt dizzy as his heart threatened to stop from fear.
“Teach our little darkling what it means to misbehave in such a manner, Celairion. I am going to sleep.” The Lady made for the door, but turned her head for a last remark, “Remember to gag him. I do not wish to be awakened by the screams.”
“Yes, Mother.”
TBC