Livin' On A Prayer

Title: Livin’ On a Prayer
Fandom: LoTR
Author: Lynsey
Websites and Mailing List: See links under user information
Beta: None
Chapter: 4/?
Pairings: Erestor/Lindir
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings or its characters. I do not make any money from this fiction.
Summary: An aspiring musician and his husband are down on their luck and living the hard life. Can they hope to rise above as long as they have each other? Or will life fall apart around them?

Erestor walked alongside Elladan, feeling a quite out of sorts and misplaced among the brightly lit streets and well-dressed lords and ladies that traversed the clean, beautifully decorated avenue. He didn’t usually come here, as he had no business in this wealthy area of town.

He didn’t belong here.

Erestor tried to hide a little behind the larger lord, head down. Elladan noticed after only a few steps.

“Hey, lovely. No hiding,” Elladan admonished, pulling the younger boy forward to walk beside him.

“Elladan, I…I don’t…” Erestor hesitated, stopping their traipse down the sidewalk.

“Don’t what, little minx?”

“I don’t…I’m not wearing…” Erestor picked at his threadbare tunic and old, cracked leather belt.

“Then let’s go shopping!” Elladan said with enthusiasm, pulling into the first clothing shop they passed. Erestor was surprised that the shop was still open this late in the day, but a glance down the avenue showed bright, inviting lights from almost every storefront he could see.

The inside of the store was quiet compared to the bustle of the busy sidewalk. The shopkeeper smiled brightly at the young, obviously wealthy lord and Elladan nodded back. Elladan pulled Erestor along the racks and rounds of clothing hanging every which-way. The lord pulled down hanger after hanger of clothing and tossed them at Erestor until the darkling could hardly hold the pile and bits starting falling off the top.

“Here we are!” Elladan crowed, shoving Erestor into a changing booth.

Erestor stood stunned for a minute in the booth and dropped his armful of clothing with a huffed release of breath. What was he doing here, really? He had a husband at home. Granted his husband was more than a little angered with him at the moment…

…for something that wasn’t your fault.

Erestor shook his head, banishing the thoughts from his head.

He pulled his tunic over his head, wincing as the material scratched over his bruised face. The darkling picked up the first thing that caught his eye in the huge pile of clothing. A silvery grey tunic. A little more digging rewarded him with a cream colored shirt with billowing sleeves that tied at the wrists. Black leggings and soft, grey boots were also removed from the pile. He finished disrobing and pulled everything on. The tunic hung from his frame, a little too big. He fished around in the pile a little more, but he didn’t find a belt.

“Elladan?” Erestor called, hoping the other elf was somewhere nearby.

“How can I help you?” Elladan called, a perfect imitation of a typical shopkeeper’s too-nice helpful tone.

Erestor smiled, amused. “I need a belt.”

“You couldn’t have tried all that on already!”

Erestor almost giggled, but held himself in check. “I found something I like so I’m not trying on anything else,” he said stubbornly. “I need a belt.”

“What color?”

Erestor looked at himself in the mirror. “Black.”

It wasn’t much later that several belts were flung over the top of the door. He chose a slim one that tied rather than belted with a buckle.

One last thing.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a…brush?” Erestor blushed at the state of his long-unwashed and uncared for hair.

Some muttering and shuffling later, a hairbrush was held over the top of the door. Erestor took it and brushed his hair out as well as he could. A tapping on the door brought his attention to a black ribbon being dangled over the top. Smiling, Erestor seized it and tied his hair back with it.

It wasn’t often that Erestor got to see a mirror let alone see himself in a mirror. This mirror didn’t warp or twist his reflection, clearly showing his image in sharp relief. He studied himself, trying to avoid looking at his injury and what it signified.

One last exam in the mirror and he opened the door with apprehension.

Elladan wolf whistled, causing Erestor to blush deeply. Approaching slowly, Elladan gently touched the bruising and swelling on Erestor’s face. “Too bad I can’t magically make this go away with a trip to a clothing store,” he said with a truthfulness that almost startled Erestor.

He wondered when Elladan would stop surprising him.

“What do you want to say?” Elladan asked.

Erestor was confused. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want to say if someone asks you how this happened?”

“Oh,” Erestor said, previous happiness easily forgotten. “I…I don’t know,” he said lamely.

“I know!” Elladan exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Polo!”

“Excuse me?”

“You were playing polo and got smacked in the face with a ball.”

“Elladan,” Erestor protested, “I’ve never even ridden a horse.”

“Croquet!”

“That…that just might work. But…who is bad enough at croquet to hit someone in the face with a ball.”

“I am,” Elladan said with extreme confidence. “I actually broke my brother’s nose with a croquet ball before.”

Erestor laughed, “You’re kidding!”

“Nope! That was the day after I almost hung him from a rope swing.”

“Apparently, you are a menace to society!”

Elladan struck a heroic pose and Erestor poked him in the stomach. Elladan grinned handed Erestor one last thing before stalking away to pay. Erestor stared blankly at the item in his hands. It was a very fine silver necklace. Broad but extremely thin, the links so seamlessly put together the metal flowed like water through his fingers.

When Elladan returned to him, Erestor tried to offer the item back. “Elladan, I…this…is too much. You already bought me all these clothes; I can’t accept this, too. It must have cost a fortune.”

Elladan smiled and took the necklace from Erestor, only to pop open the clasp and step behind him. He lowered the necklace in front of Erestor’s face and settled the metal against the darkling’s chest. “Lift up your hair,” Elladan whispered and Erestor complied with shaking hands. The lordling snapped the catch closed and stepped away. Erestor turned to face Elladan and dropped his hair. One hand come up to touch the cool metal that quickly warmed against his skin.

“I’ve had that necklace for years,” Elladan drawled, reaching forward to run a finger along the silver metal. “It’s been sitting in a box, unused and unloved. Beautiful things were meant to be worn by beautiful things,” he said with a bright smile.

Erestor blushed deeply and had to say, “This doesn’t change the fact that I’m married.”

“I’m not protesting that,” Elladan said. “Is it wrong for a friend to want another friend to be happy?”

Erestor smiled shyly. “I guess not.”

The shopkeeper came up and handed Erestor his clothes that had been put into a fine cloth bag that probably cost more than the clothes inside it. Erestor thanked her, wondering what she thought of the odd couple he and Elladan made.

“Well, let’s be off, shall we? Things to do and all that,” Elladan said jovially, taking the bag from Erestor and slinging it over his shoulder. Erestor nodded and followed Elladan into the bustling avenue.

Erestor felt a little better now that he was dressed the part. It was easier now to pretend that he belonged amongst the noble and wealthy.

They chatted as they strolled along the idealistic sidewalk with its decorated arches, oil lanterns with stained-glass covers, and carved topiaries.

They stopped in front of a little restaurant that Erestor’s nose made him stall at. His mouth watered and he stared longingly through the large window at the patrons inside.

“I take it you want to eat here?” Elladan said with a smile, encouraging Erestor forward. The darkling nodded eagerly.

Not minutes later they were ensconced at a table by one of the big windows. It wasn’t often Erestor saw glass this clear. Most of the glass he was familiar with was bubbly, greenish, and not good for much besides letting in a little light. He touched the glass, chagrined when his fingers left a smudge on the perfect, smooth surface.

Elladan smiled and cleared it away with the napkin he pulled off the table. Erestor smiled in thanks.

“Well,” Elladan said, handling Erestor a menu, “What do you want?”

Erestor couldn’t help but think, For this to be my life.

TBC…