Cinderestor
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,294
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,294
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 4
Title: Cinderestor
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Books
Chapter: 4/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes
Warnings: Slash (male elf loving male elf), implied torture
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: A dark!Cinderella inspired story featuring Erestor and Glorfindel.
For weeks, Glorfindel and his father went door to door looking for any word of the two elves in the miniature portraits. As yet, they had no leads. As the sun set, the procession from the House of the Golden Flower made their way to the last house on their list, The House of the Circling Raven. Glorfindel had wanted to avoid the house as long as possible as he was not eager to be proposed to by Celairion again. However, they were running out of options, and now had no choice. The party dismounted in front of the cozy little manor and announced their presence. The Lady of the House answered the door and gestured for them to enter. That the Lady of the House answered the door and not a servant surprised Glorfindel, but he was not one to question the workings of a house not his own.
As they settled in the sitting room accompanied by the Lady‘s daughter, Glorfindel recovered the locket from his pocket. “I come to ask you a favor,” the young Lord stated. “Inside this locket, there are two portraits of elves that are unknown to all. I would like to know if you recognize either of them.”
The Lady grasped the locket and opened it. Her carefully schooled expression revealed nothing as she looked upon the face of her deceased husband and his first wife. “I do not know if I have ever seen these elves before. However, I will go ask my son if he has a notion of who they may be. I will retrieve him and return shortly.”
Some minutes passed and the Lady did not return. Glorfindel asked Glaweth where the bathroom was to be found, and left the flirting maid to make her way through his escort. He entered the appropriate room, and he simply sat on a chair in front of a vanity with his head in his hands. He felt frustrated, helpless. This was his last hope, and it seemed to be just as worthless as all the others. As he sat there, he heard a small, fluttering sound. Intrigued, he raised his head and cocked it to the side, listening intently. There it was again. A sound like a whimper. Soft and quiet, as if the creature making it did not wish to be heard but was in too much pain to suppress the sound. Determining where the sound came from, Glorfindel headed out of the bathroom and went to the door leading into the room he swore he heard the whimpering from. Feeling only a faint pang of conscience for trespassing, Glorfindel entered the room.
It looked to be a bedchamber. From the sword and daggers hung on the walls, he judged it to be Celairion’s. The sound came again, and Glorfindel zeroed in on the closet. He felt a twinge of sickening fear as he approached the door. The entire room stunk of fear, blood, and urine.
The soft cry came again. Whatever was making that sound was hurt badly. Hesitantly he opened the door and looked at the floor. Huddled on the floor in a bloody bundle of soiled rags was what may have been an elf. Glorfindel knelt on the floor and pulled the bundle around until he could see its face. He was nearly sickened by what he saw.
One side of the elf’s face was destroyed, the eye missing. It looked like the elf had used his own hair to try to bandage his face. The eyelid fluttered on the eye that was still intact, and it finally opened as wide as it could considering it was swollen from repeated beatings. Glorfindel’s heart stopped as he stared into the chocolate gaze he had been longing for his whole life.
“Is it really you?” whimpered a voice that was thick with despair and agony as the broken jaw worked. “Or has Irmo granted me this last, sweet dream before I am taken to the Halls?”
“It is I,” Glorfindel whispered. “I have finally found you, my sweet one.” Erestor tried to smile, but the effect was ruined as he cried out in pain as his battered face moved. Glorfindel pulled the assaulted form to his chest, wincing as he felt broken bones grating against one another. He lifted Erestor as carefully as he could, cradling him to his chest. “I have dreamt of you since we were but children. Your face has haunted my thoughts,” the Lord admitted.
Erestor’s eye darkened in sorrow. “My…face…”
“I care not, lovely one. If I wanted only beauty, I would have chosen Celairion. Your soul has called to mine since we first met.”
Tears made their way down their faces, and Glorfindel leaned in to taste lips that were cracked and bloody. The brushing of lips was gentle, almost chaste. Glorfindel had never tasted anything sweeter.
----------------------------------------------------------
“We are leaving. Now.” Glorfindel swept into the room carrying a bloodied bundle of rags that reeked of bodily fluids.
“My Lord?” questioned the Lady as she stood from her chair.
“You, my Lady,” Glorfindel sneered, “will find yourself imprisoned in the lowest cells of the darkest dungeons on Arda for this.”
“What…oh, no,” the Lady whispered as she realized what Glorfindel held in his arms.
Celairion stepped forward in front of his mother. “That worthless piece of filth belongs to *us*. We have the right to do whatever we please with him! He is our property!”
“NO ELF IS THE PROPERTY OF ANOTHER!!” Glorfindel bellowed, startling all in the room. “Guards! Take them!”
The Lord exited the room, leaving his guard to deal with the three elves in question.
Epilogue To Follow
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Books
Chapter: 4/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes
Warnings: Slash (male elf loving male elf), implied torture
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: A dark!Cinderella inspired story featuring Erestor and Glorfindel.
For weeks, Glorfindel and his father went door to door looking for any word of the two elves in the miniature portraits. As yet, they had no leads. As the sun set, the procession from the House of the Golden Flower made their way to the last house on their list, The House of the Circling Raven. Glorfindel had wanted to avoid the house as long as possible as he was not eager to be proposed to by Celairion again. However, they were running out of options, and now had no choice. The party dismounted in front of the cozy little manor and announced their presence. The Lady of the House answered the door and gestured for them to enter. That the Lady of the House answered the door and not a servant surprised Glorfindel, but he was not one to question the workings of a house not his own.
As they settled in the sitting room accompanied by the Lady‘s daughter, Glorfindel recovered the locket from his pocket. “I come to ask you a favor,” the young Lord stated. “Inside this locket, there are two portraits of elves that are unknown to all. I would like to know if you recognize either of them.”
The Lady grasped the locket and opened it. Her carefully schooled expression revealed nothing as she looked upon the face of her deceased husband and his first wife. “I do not know if I have ever seen these elves before. However, I will go ask my son if he has a notion of who they may be. I will retrieve him and return shortly.”
Some minutes passed and the Lady did not return. Glorfindel asked Glaweth where the bathroom was to be found, and left the flirting maid to make her way through his escort. He entered the appropriate room, and he simply sat on a chair in front of a vanity with his head in his hands. He felt frustrated, helpless. This was his last hope, and it seemed to be just as worthless as all the others. As he sat there, he heard a small, fluttering sound. Intrigued, he raised his head and cocked it to the side, listening intently. There it was again. A sound like a whimper. Soft and quiet, as if the creature making it did not wish to be heard but was in too much pain to suppress the sound. Determining where the sound came from, Glorfindel headed out of the bathroom and went to the door leading into the room he swore he heard the whimpering from. Feeling only a faint pang of conscience for trespassing, Glorfindel entered the room.
It looked to be a bedchamber. From the sword and daggers hung on the walls, he judged it to be Celairion’s. The sound came again, and Glorfindel zeroed in on the closet. He felt a twinge of sickening fear as he approached the door. The entire room stunk of fear, blood, and urine.
The soft cry came again. Whatever was making that sound was hurt badly. Hesitantly he opened the door and looked at the floor. Huddled on the floor in a bloody bundle of soiled rags was what may have been an elf. Glorfindel knelt on the floor and pulled the bundle around until he could see its face. He was nearly sickened by what he saw.
One side of the elf’s face was destroyed, the eye missing. It looked like the elf had used his own hair to try to bandage his face. The eyelid fluttered on the eye that was still intact, and it finally opened as wide as it could considering it was swollen from repeated beatings. Glorfindel’s heart stopped as he stared into the chocolate gaze he had been longing for his whole life.
“Is it really you?” whimpered a voice that was thick with despair and agony as the broken jaw worked. “Or has Irmo granted me this last, sweet dream before I am taken to the Halls?”
“It is I,” Glorfindel whispered. “I have finally found you, my sweet one.” Erestor tried to smile, but the effect was ruined as he cried out in pain as his battered face moved. Glorfindel pulled the assaulted form to his chest, wincing as he felt broken bones grating against one another. He lifted Erestor as carefully as he could, cradling him to his chest. “I have dreamt of you since we were but children. Your face has haunted my thoughts,” the Lord admitted.
Erestor’s eye darkened in sorrow. “My…face…”
“I care not, lovely one. If I wanted only beauty, I would have chosen Celairion. Your soul has called to mine since we first met.”
Tears made their way down their faces, and Glorfindel leaned in to taste lips that were cracked and bloody. The brushing of lips was gentle, almost chaste. Glorfindel had never tasted anything sweeter.
----------------------------------------------------------
“We are leaving. Now.” Glorfindel swept into the room carrying a bloodied bundle of rags that reeked of bodily fluids.
“My Lord?” questioned the Lady as she stood from her chair.
“You, my Lady,” Glorfindel sneered, “will find yourself imprisoned in the lowest cells of the darkest dungeons on Arda for this.”
“What…oh, no,” the Lady whispered as she realized what Glorfindel held in his arms.
Celairion stepped forward in front of his mother. “That worthless piece of filth belongs to *us*. We have the right to do whatever we please with him! He is our property!”
“NO ELF IS THE PROPERTY OF ANOTHER!!” Glorfindel bellowed, startling all in the room. “Guards! Take them!”
The Lord exited the room, leaving his guard to deal with the three elves in question.
Epilogue To Follow