Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: see links under userinfo
Beta: None
Chapter: 4/?
Word Count This Chapter: 1917
Pairings: Glorfindel/Erestor, OC/Erestor
Rating: PG-13 this chapter
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or its characters. I make no money from this fiction.
Summary: The realization of who you are and where you belong is never easy.
A/N: Sequel to “Tolerance”

Erestor sat in the horse barn, meticulously cleaning the tack of his very own horse. Glorfindel had presented him with the mare as soon as the warrior had discovered that Erestor had never ridden a horse before. Determined that all elves should learn to communicate with the beautiful beasts, Glorfindel had purchased a gentle and sweet tempered mare for Erestor to begin his lessons. The creature was smallish and not nearly as large and imposing as Glorfindel’s battle-bred beast. She was neither the most beautiful nor graceful horse around, but she had the most lovable disposition anyone could ask for.

The short riding lesson was over for the day, Glorfindel gone back to his duties and Erestor procrastinating going back to studies. It was a lovely, late summer day. Far to nice a day to be in the library, and, anyway, Erestor had been itching to do something other than sift through old tomes. He rarely wanted to do anything else, but occasionally he needed a change of scenery.

The quiet shuffle of hooves through straw and the occasional snort or huff could be heard throughout the barn. Most of the horses had the external doors to the stalls open to let them wander from the indoor area to small, private outdoor runs. Most of the beasts were outside dozing in the sun, while the rest nosed around their hay mangers or meandered around their stalls.

Expecting to be alone for many hours to come, Erestor was terribly surprised when he heard the sliding doors open. He looked up from his work to greet the newcomer and gasped slightly when he noticed that it was none other than Corchvorn that entered the stables. Erestor hadn’t seen Corchvorn since he helped the young warrior to the healing ward several days earlier. He’d almost forgotten about it. Suddenly nervous, Erestor glanced around the barn complex. Several years of bullying could not be wiped away by one day of congeniality, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised to find himself in the middle of a set-up.

“Oh, uh…hi…uh…Erestor,” Corchvorn stuttered as he spotted Erestor sitting on a chair in the middle of the main work area.

“Hello,” Erestor said quietly, hoping the other youth would get what he came for and go away. He really didn’t want to deal with anything more complex than that.

Corchvorn stood uncertainly and fidgeted a few moments before stumbling over to the tack room and disappearing inside. Erestor frowned. The former bully was usually much more graceful than that. Could he still be injured from that day on the field? When the young elf exited the tack room with an arm full of leather mending supplies, Erestor asked quickly, “How are you feeling?”

“Huh?” Corchvorn squeaked as he dropped his arm-load of objects, clearly startled. Erestor moved from his own project to help the other youth gather the scattered items.

“I asked if you were feeling alright.”

A blank look followed.

“…from when you hurt your back?” Erestor prompted.

“Oh…oh, ya. I’m fine. See?” The large youth stood and turned around, flexing his back muscles through the thin material of his shirt. “I was out of alignment…or…something. The healers put me back together. I’m on light duty for awhile, so I’m learning armor repair while I’m resting.” Hence the leather repair supplies.

“Good.” Erestor swallowed and looked away from the fine example of a young warrior. When had it become so warm in the barn?

“Thanks again for helping me the other day,” Corchvorn said, a touch of…something odd in his voice. “I know that I have been…uh…well…a real jerk to you. Saying I’m sorry sounds kind of…trite, but I am. I’m sorry I was an asshole, and thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it.”

Erestor looked up at Corchvorn, amazed that the other boy had not only completed an intelligent sentence but apologized in a seemingly sincere manner. The dark-haired youth knew that this would have been the perfect excuse for Corchvorn and his bullies to terrorize him. They were alone, and no one was in hearing range. Corchvorn, however, seemed as nervous as if he were the one about to be beat upon.

“It was not a problem. Really. I was just glad to help,” Erestor murmured demurely. As he stood from gathering some of the objects Corchvorn had dropped, Erestor tripped over some leather straps dangling from his arm and fell right into the other boy. Corchvorn gasped and caught the smaller elf, helping him to straighten up. Expecting a wallop for his clumsiness, Erestor flinched and regarded Corchvorn with frightened eyes.

The large boy regarded Erestor with a sad expression when he saw the fright in the smaller boy’s eyes. “I really hurt you, didn’t I?”

Erestor looked down at the items in his arms, saying nothing.

Corchvorn reached for Erestor, hands out in a placating manner. He took tiny, shuffling steps closer and closer still until he was inches from the delicate darkling. The smaller boy looked up into Corchvorn’s eyes and was startled to see grief and regret. Could the other boy truly be remorseful for his actions? If the hurt in those dark eyes said anything, it was that the young warrior very much mourned his treatment of the other elf. Corchvorn lifted a hand slowly, as if afraid Erestor would dart, and placed it on the side of the smaller elf’s cheek. He stroked the soft, milky skin gently.

“How could I have hurt something so beautiful?” he whispered. Seemingly caught in an unknown thrall, the taller boy leaned down and pressed his lips to Erestor’s. The darkling’s breath caught, and he stood frozen in place until Corchvorn moved away.

Looking terribly rattled at what he had just done, Corchvorn immediately grabbed his things from Erestor and bolted out the door. Erestor stared dumbly at the still-open door for many long minutes before collapsing into the chair he had vacated earlier.

Why had Corchvorn kissed him? This was the boy that had beaten him to a bloody pulp for his being sly, so why had Corchvorn done such a thing?

…and why had he liked it?

******************************

Corchvorn bolted toward the guard house without truly seeing anything as he ran. The training fields and trees whipped past in a blur, and he ignored all other elves he crossed paths with. When he finally reached the house he stopped, panting and leaning against the shaded wall.

What in all hells had he just done?

The boy dropped his cargo on the ground and sank slowly to sit beside it. He’d been startled to find Erestor in the stables that was for sure. He didn’t think the scribe went anywhere that didn’t involve books or Glorfindel. And anyway, it was the wrong part of the stables for the Seneschal’s charger. The scribe had been seated in the wing that typically housed hunters and ponies, not war beasts. He’d thought he’d be safe fetching the leather mending materials.

The young warrior had been doing his best to avoid both Glorfindel and Erestor since the night of the ball. And really, he’d been doing a good job. That was, until the day he was injured on the training field. He hadn’t meant to solicit Erestor’s help that day. He’d just collapsed in the first spot of shade he’d seen. And then…then that-that boy. Erestor was truly just too nice for his own good. That was what made him such a good target for him and his former friends.

Former friends. Ever since their public humiliation at Glorfindel’s hands, they’d stopped spending time together. In fact, Corchvorn hadn’t been spending a lot of time with anyone except teachers lately. It just didn’t feel right anymore. The other boys were exactly what his father approved of in the way of friends. They were all aspiring warriors and training to be in the guard. Their fathers were all friends with his father. They were all taught the same beliefs, they had the same backgrounds, and they were all part of the same station in life. They were just one more part of his pre-approved existence.

He had very much enjoyed his life-path for the longest time. It was fun. He loved training to be a guard. He liked riding horses and sharpening swords and learning combat.

What he hadn’t liked was thinking Erestor looked very pretty when he wore blue.

Corchvorn hadn’t realized until many years after Erestor’s rejection from the social ranks of their age group that maybe he wasn’t quite as perfect as he father extolled him to be. What if someone found out that he had such tainted, impure thoughts about Erestor? He could never allow such a thing to be known. He could stand to loose everything, including the respect of his fellows and, most importantly, his family.

So he’d made it very obvious about what he thought of Erestor. Or at least what he thought others thought he should think of Erestor…if that made any sense.

But just days ago, Erestor had, despite all the hell and damnation Corchvorn had put him through, helped him in a time of need.

Corchvorn’s former friends wouldn’t have helped him, not since their very public chastisement. He’d basically been abandoned by the other boys. He was the known ring-leader of their gang, and associating with him exposed them as sycophants…and they couldn’t have that in the eyes of their teachers. They could claim they’d only done what they had to in order to stay in Corchvorn’s good graces. Basically, they’d thrown him to the wolves.

He’d worked hard to restore his standing, but it was a difficult thing. Corchvorn was the guilty instigator of terrible transgressions against Erestor, the great and respected Lord Glorfindel’s betrothed. It would be the work of years to regain any respect from his elders.

But what hurt the most was the absolute terror he’d seen in Erestor’s eyes today. He’d never looked into the darkling’s eyes when he taunted or abused him. He couldn’t. Those beautiful dark eyes were hypnotizing and so ultimately powerful in their honesty and emotion. To look into them was to look into himself, and he couldn’t do that and keep up the façade he’d created to appease his father.

Today, Corchvorn had made the mistake of gazing into Erestor’s eyes.

And now…now he was caught.

Oh, dear Valar he’d kissed the other boy.

Glorfindel was going to kill him.

Well…maybe if Erestor didn’t say anything he’d be safe. Would he say something? Of course he would. Unless the young scribe didn’t think it was of any consequence. He liked to think that he was, but Erestor had a betrothed, someone to commit his whole being. Why would someone as lowly as Corchvorn make any difference in his life?

The boy sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. What would it be like, to have someone like Erestor at your side? He tried to imagine any circumstance that would allow Erestor to be his and couldn’t. But he could pretend, just for a moment, that the darkling wasn’t betrothed and Corchvorn was able to court him.

He daydreamed until his supervisor exited the building and called his name. Startling from his reverie, Corchvorn quickly jumped from the ground and gathered his tools.

“What are you doing out here? I sent you to get those things a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Corchvorn apologized. “I just got…distracted.”

TBC…