Unattainable

Part 4…

Erestor slipped silently though the corridors, moving steadily towards the library. He would have preferred to return to his chambers to regain his composure but realized he would most likely never reach them without coming across someone, and knew that in his present state would undergo some unwanted questioning. Reaching the large, intricately detailed oak door, Erestor held his breath as he opened it. Releasing it in an audible whoosh of air he entered the deserted library and headed directly towards the adjourning study, where Elrond kept a supply of beverages that served as the occasional night cap after working late. Removing the stopper from the crystal decanter of a dark, rusty colored liquid, the name of which he did not know, nor cared about. After transferring a hefty portion into an awaiting goblet Erestor quickly tossed it back in one long swallow. Pouring another goblet full of the strong liquor, Erestor moved towards the window and gazed out, unseeing into the darkness, while struggling to regain his composure. Oh how he wished he could simply closet him self in his rooms, but realistically he knew he had to return to the festivities. Allowing his gaze to focus he inspected his face in the glass pane of the window. Pathetic, truly, inescapably, pathetic! A simple kiss in the garden had turned him into a whimpering little Elfling. Heaving a sigh and rotating his shoulders Erestor concentrated on his breathing. In… and out, in… and out. There, he felt much better already.

Finishing off his drink Erestor returned to the table and replaced the stopper back in the decanter. Stepping back into the library he moved to face the mirror hanging beside the door. Calmly smoothing his hair and robes, Erestor restored some semblance of order to his chaotic appearance. His eyes were understandably a little red and he chastised himself for loosing control of his emotions. Really, he hadn’t cried in ages and couldn’t believe he had broken down now. He shouldn’t have allowed the remarks of the visiting Galadhrim and Mirkwood archers to prey on his mind so. What did he care if there was an open wager concerning him and the fortunate soul who found their way into his bed? He didn’t give a damn, although he was a little shocked at the amount of interest that seemed to have been generated, he hadn’t received so many propositions in his entire life. And if Glorfindel wanted to participate in such a fiasco, then so be it. He would simply have to admit defeat along with all the other hopefuls. Taking a deep breath and tucking a single, wayward strand of midnight black hair behind the delicately pointed tip of his right ear Erestor clasped the weighty iron handle of the library door and pushed it open. Squaring his shoulders he moved quietly and decisively in the direction of the dining hall.


Glorfindel meanwhile had not been idle. After having fixed his own rather disheveled appearance he had returned to the hall and proceeded to question several of the merry makers. It did not take long to discover that Erestor’s emotional little outburst about a wager had actually originated from truth, not that he had thought the advisor to be lying, but one could hope. While talking to one of the visiting Mirkwood warriors Glorfindel had learned of the appalling situation. It seemed that one of the Galadhrim, no one was quite sure who, had boasted of his uncanny ability to seduce any unattached individual. Taking his boast one step further he had dared anyone to prove his claim wrong. As was to be expected a challenge, in the form of a contesas ias issued. Citizens of Mirkwood, Lothlorien and Imladris would compete against each other. Their objective; the seduction and bedding of one Erestor of Imladris!

Glorfindel was furious. How dare they play such trivial games with Erestor! Not only was it undignified, but it had also ruined his chances of obtaining Erestor’s affections for him self. Even though there was the slim possibility that Erestor was truly not interested in him in a carnal way, Glorfindel much preferred to direct the blame concerning his lack of success at the feet of the offending gamblers. Despite numerous questions and mild threats, no one seemed able, or more likely willing, to recall the name the one who instigated the challenge, although personally Glorfindel had his own suspicions, namely the arrogant and snobby March warden of Lothlorien, Haldir. Determined to confront the culprit and gain both a confession and an apology for Erestor his gaze scanned the large hall, finally encountering him across the room, entertaining a small group of fellow warriors by the fire. Well, no time like the present, thought Glorfindel, and crossed the hall, intending to have words with the offending guardian.

TBC...