Spring In Rivendell

Title: Spring in Rivendell
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 5/?
Pairings: Erestor/Elrond, Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: This chapter R-NC-17
Warnings: Slash, a rather rare view on elf sexuality, mpreg
Summery: It’s spring time in the valley
Disclaimer: Don’t sue. All I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.


Erestor gawked at Elrond for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, finding the words he seemed bereft of he chocked out, "You jest. It...how....SO SOON?"

"Surely you know your own cycles, my friend."

"I...yes, but..."

"So which part of your cycle would you have been entering today?"

Erestor's brow furrowed in thought. "I...was ovulating yesterday...." His eyebrows shot skyward. "Oh, Valar. What have I done..." He wrapped his arms around his waist and sat up, immediately regretting the actions as a violent wave of dizziness washed over him and a sharp pain cut through his nether regions. The combination of the dizziness, pain, and emotional turmoil were taking their toll on the advisor. "I think I'm going to be sick." Erestor lunged for the edge of the bed as nausea hit him full force. He would have fallen off if Elrond had not caught him. He held the heaving elf as he vomited and sobbed, rubbing his back soothingly and holding back long, wavy black hair. Eventually, Erestor quieted and lay back on the bed shivering from shock. Elrond did not fair much better. He was getting backlash of Erestor's emotions through the bond, and he was barely keeping himself under control.

"Let me send for my healing things, and we'll get you comfortable. Alright, my friend?"

Erestor nodded, tears still streaming from his eyes.

Elrond leaned down and kissed Erestor's brow, and he gently wiped away the dampness on his new bonded's cheeks. He looked deep into Erestor's eyes, and said sincerely, "Remember how I said I would always be there for you? That has not changed. Will never change. You are my best friend, and I will love you and support you always. Alright?"

Erestor smiled a ghost of a smile, but it was a real smile none-the-less. Elrond smiled back. He leaned down to press another kiss to Erestor's hair, and went to the door to summon a page.

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Minutes later, Elrond had all of the things he had requested, and he stood in front of his fireplace brewing a calming tea. He ensured that the tea was turning out as it should, and he turned to the form still lying on the dirty sheets. He moved to the dark elf and squatted next the bed. "Would you like a bath?"

"Yes," came the whispered reply. Erestor had his eyes closed, and was curled up on his side. Elrond gently lifted his friend in his arms, and proceeded to the private bath adjacent to his bedroom. Laying Erestor on a towel he had placed on the tiled floor, he returned briefly to the bedroom. Before Erestor could call him back, the Lord returned carrying a bag of healing tools and herbs.

"I'm going to examine you better now, and see what I can do about the pain," Elrond informed his patient. Erestor nodded for him to proceed. The healer spread Erestor's legs and prodded the passage exposed to him. Erestor hissed and closed his legs on Elrond's hand. Elrond stopped, and let his patient relax and open to him again before proceeding.

"Valar, Elrond. Why does it hurt so bad? They say your first time hurts, but....DAMN this hurts! I have not met an ellith yet that said ANYTHING about it hurting this bad..." Erestor whimpered.

"An ellian's hymen is much, much thicker than that of an ellith, my friend. It makes the first experience....more difficult."

"Difficult my ass. This fucking HURTS!"

"Just wait till you give birth."

"Not funny, Elrond."

Elrond smiled. "I think the bleeding has stopped, but you are torn badly. Let us get you clean, and get you back to bed. I'm afraid you are going to have to miss the festivities tonight."

"Oh, that's too bad....considering I can't even *walk*. This is all your fault, you know!"

Elrond shook his head and muttered, "And so it begins...."

He lifted Erestor into the filled tub and slid inside with him. Erestor leaned into him, burrowing his head in Elrond's neck as Elrond washed him.

Elrond was busily washing Erestor’s back when he felt hard, sharp teeth embed themselves in the vulnerable skin of his neck. He flinched and grunted, but did not pull away, knowing it would only cause more damage. He felt wet lines running down his chest and smelled the metallic tang of blood before Erestor let up and began to lap at the perfect oval mark he had placed on Elrond’s neck.

Elrond raised a brow as Erestor met his eyes. Erestor smiled and shrugged, then leaned in to continue lapping at the blood welling up in the wound. “Mine,” Elrond heard the advisor breathe.

Not to be outdone, Elrond pinned the smaller elf to the side of the tub, and he lowered his mouth to the assailable skin of the advisor’s throat and bit down hard. Elrond felt the elf’s throat vibrate as he whimpered, but he only pulled back when his own mark of possession was clearly stated on Erestor’s person.

Elrond pressed a gentle kiss to Erestor’s lips, and the both tasted the saltiness of their own blood as their lips sealed. “Mine…” Elrond breathed.

“Yours…” replied Erestor.

Pressing their brows together, Elrond calmed himself. This was the worst part of the year for being gentle. His whole being cried out to take the dark elf in his arms and ravage him again and again. Little did his body care that his mating frenzy of that morning had already borne fruit. Shuddering, and blocking out the carnal clamoring of body, Elrond rose from the bath and lifted Erestor from it to lay the smaller elf once again on the towel. He dried the councilor and applied a healing balm to the bite wound on his neck and the much more painful wound between his legs. “This should dull the pain,” Elrond explained as he cleaned his hand on a small rag. “Let’s get you back to bed. You need all the rest you can get, sweet one.”

“Alright.” Erestor said as he opened his arms to the elf above him.

Elrond wrapped his arms around his precious burden and carried him back into the bedroom. While they had been in the bath, servants had come and cleaned the chambers. There was no longer a mess on the floor where Erestor had been sick, and the bed had been cleaned. The Lord was sure that the mattress had to of been changed due to the large amount of blood that had stained it. He briefly wondered what kind of rumors where running rampant through Imladris at this moment. The cleaning crew would have obviously known what had transpired in this room last night. Did any of them know to whom their Lord was now bound? Or did one of them know Erestor had been in his rooms? Elrond guessed he would find out tonight at the Festival.

He lay Erestor on the now clean bed and folded him the soft, warm quilt that was waiting at the foot. After drinking the tea that Elrond fed him, the advisor fell asleep promptly, and Elrond turned to the wardrobe to choose an outfit for the festivities that would start in less than an hour.

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As Elrond walked to the central bonfire that once again stood in the courtyard, he felt the eyes of hundreds of elves watching his every move. More accurately, they were staring at the mark of possession that was proudly displayed high on the peredhil’s neck. One look into the Lord’s eyes told everyone what they had burned to know since the rumors had started flying around an hour ago. The Lord had taken another mate.

Glorfindel fought his way through the crowd, trying to glimpse his lord and friend. Where the rumors true? Had his Lord bound? Had his worst nightmare come true? Panting Glorfindel pushed the through the last of the onlookers, and stood directly in front of Elrond. Looking into his Lord’s stormy grey eyes, he found his answer.

“Who?” the golden warrior demanded.

Holding his head high, Elrond answered quite clearly, “Erestor.”

Glorfindel stood unmoving for a moment, then growled deeply. Everyone stood back, and cleared a space around the two elves. A Challenge had just been issued. Elrond growled back, and took up a fighting stance, just as Glorfindel lunged for Elrond’s throat. Elrond grabbed the Seneschal out of the air, and used his own momentum to fling him several feet away. Glorfindel recovered quickly, and turned once again to face his adversary.

Many men who came to the valley had seen the Lord of Imladris as a simple diplomat and nothing more, but the men of Middle-Earth were essentially ignorant of the ways of elves. Unlike humans, elves did not necessarily inherit their positions from their fathers before them (although being bred of such fine blood helped greatly). An elf’s position in the hierarchy of a kingdom depended on his strength as warrior and his cunning as a leader. Any time a leader became lax, they could be usurped by a stronger leader below them. Elrond was a diplomat, but he was also a warrior. In fact, he was the best in Imladris. If Glorfindel won this Challenge, he stood the possibility of becoming the new Lord of Imladris. If he killed Elrond, he could bind himself to Erestor before the advisor had a chance to fade, thereby making himself the ruler as well as Erestor’s mate. If Elrond won, he could decide the Seneschal’s fate. He could simply kill Glorfindel and be rid of him, banish Glorfindel from the valley, or he could let things go back to the way they had always been.

The two elves, light and dark, grappled in the light of the bonfire. The population of the valley looked on anxiously, as this fight could very well alter their futures. Both warriors seemed equally matched, neither have an advantage over the other. They fought for hours as the stars shifted position in the sky, each becoming slower as the night wore on and they became fatigued.

That fatigue signaled the end of the match. Glorfindel attacked, swinging his arm upwards. Elrond dodged, and Glorfindel moved too slowly to recover himself from his forward momentum. The elven Lord took advantage of this, and quickly knocked the Seneschal to the ground. Glorfindel tried to recover, but his weary body was not responding as it should and he was quickly pinned to the ground with Elrond’s hand closing over his windpipe. He closed his eyes and prepared to meet with Mandos once again, but the crushing blow never came.

“Do you yield?” panted Elrond above him.

“Aye. I yield,” said Glorfindel, his voice hoarse from panting and the hand squeezing his throat.

Elrond released him and stood. The golden warrior sat up and coughed as his lungs filled with air again. He looked up at his Lord and got to his knees, crossing his arms behind his back in a show of submission. Elrond growled and the elf in front of him bowed his body deeper, cowering in front of him.

“I want you in my rooms. Now.” Upon saying this, Elrond turned and stalked to the house.

Glorfindel rose from his position on the ground and followed his Lord’s lead.