Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: see links under userinfo
Beta: None
Chapter: 5/?
Word Count This Chapter: 2096
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 entered the common room of Glorfindel’s apartment in something of a detached daze. He immediately went to the bathing chamber and ran himself a very hot bath. The darkling submersed himself in the cleansing heat with the hopes that the water would purify his thoughts as well as his body. He felt as if the very smell of the other boy clung to him, and he had to wash it off before Glorfindel could perceive it.

With trepidation, Erestor went over the events in the barn, searching for anything to make the incident make sense. He could not understand his reaction to other youth, especially when he loved Glorfindel with all his heart.

Over and over his mind replayed the image of Corchvorn’s back flexing under that thin, gauzy shirt. The bigger youth’s brown hair had been pulled into a lazy knot at the back of his head, and a few pieces had escaped to hang around his strong face, softening the somewhat harsh lines. Erestor shuddered as he felt himself become flushed with arousal. This was not right!

The darkling scowled as he soaped a rag and ran it over his skin. Corchvorn was not someone Erestor should be thinking of in such a way. Glorfindel. Only Glorfindel should consume his thoughts so. The golden warrior did take up the majority of fantasies, but as of this afternoon…the other youth wouldn’t get out of his head. It was disturbing and alarming. He was betrothed for the Valar’s sake. The only person leaving a lasting imprint on his soul should be his promised beloved.

How could he possibly become aroused by Corchvorn of all people? The other boy had practically tortured him for years. He’d ridiculed him, beaten him, and caused him terrible grief for the very thing that just a few minutes ago…

He’d kissed him. Corchvorn had kissed him, and it had been soft and sweet. He hadn’t felt revolted by it, and he should have. Only Glorfindel was allowed to touch him so. Only Glorfindel could know his kiss and know his passion.

This…what had transpired…it was as good as betrayal.

Thoroughly enraged with himself, Erestor left the bath and stormed out of the bathroom to dress in fresh clothing. Eager to get his mind off of Corchvorn, the young elf stalked to the library and buried himself in paperwork until it was time to meet Glorfindel for dinner.

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

A week passed, and Erestor had not seen Corchvorn except at a distance in the training field. He was still very confused about his feelings, but he had successfully kept Glorfindel in the dark about his incident with the other boy. Truth be told, he was happy to keep it that way forever. Erestor was beginning to think that he was safe when again he encountered the other boy in the library.

The young scribe had been searching for an obscure tome for Lord Elrond when he had rounded a corner to run smack into Corchvorn. He had nearly fallen over, but the larger boy’s reflexes allowed him to catch Erestor before he crashed to the floor. It had taken Erestor a moment to figure out what had happened, and when he realized just who was holding his arm, he backed away into a bookcase.

“Erestor, I-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Please, Erestor just listen to me for one second.”

“Only if you answer one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Why? Why did you do that? You who taunted and beat me all these years for being…tainted?” Erestor’s distraught face begged for information, for anything to give him some understanding as to what had happened between them.

Corchvorn sighed and looked at the ground, book in his hand forgotten. He muttered something Erestor couldn’t hear.

“Excuse me?” Erestor coaxed, fearful of what he would hear.

“I said that…that…Ithinkyouarepretty,” he rushed.

“You think I’m…pretty? Girls are pretty,” Erestor wrinkled his nose in distain.

Corchvorn blushed. “Beautiful then.”

Erestor shook his head in denial. “I am none of these things.”

“I can’t keep my eyes away from you,” the older boy murmured, looking away.

Erestor shook his head in denial. “This still does not tell me why! Why did you kiss me? Is this another plot to amuse you and hurt me?”

Corchvorn breathed in and out deeply a few times, obviously preparing to tell Erestor something he didn’t want to. “I’m sorry for how I treated you in the past, Erestor. But…I was afraid. My Dad…he always spoke of how bad it was to like one of your own sex, and as I got older I realized that I was becoming what he hated so much. I hid it, and I started picking on you to make it seem like I despised...people like you as much as he did. I even kind of convinced myself that I was just going through some demented phase and that I was ‘fixed’ of my ‘ailment.’ But then, you kept getting more and more beautiful every day, and you kept reminding me of how much I wanted you.”

The brown-haired youth regarded Erestor with an expression of mixed loathing and yearning. “I hated you for making me feel that way, for making me want you. I started hurting you because I was so afraid of…how you made me feel. And now…” he trailed off, staring directly into Erestor’s eyes.

“And now what?” Erestor asked quietly, unable to look away.

“And now…I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“Then don’t.”

Corchvorn looked at Erestor with uncertainty and little hope. “How? How can you be so open? How can you stand the ridicule? The other warriors would surely shun me.”

“As they shun Glorfindel?” Erestor countered.

“Glorfindel is different!” Corchvorn argued. “He’s a great warrior! A hero! I have nothing to commend myself to others. I have nothing to save me from…what you went through.”

“Be who you are, not what others want you to be. Glorfindel taught me that.”

“Glorfindel,” Corchvorn said the name like a curse, and Erestor wrinkled his brow in shock.

“Excuse me?” said the dark-haired elf.

Corchvorn turned around and punched the bookcase. “He has you. He has you and I can never-” he leaned his head against the bookcase in defeat.

Erestor nervously stepped forward from his position opposite the other young elf. Another step brought him in range, and he put a tentative hand on Corchvorn’s shoulder. “We…we could be friends,” he offered tentatively.

“I don’t know if I could just be friends with you.”

Deciding to be brave and jump off the cliff this surely was, Erestor said, “We could try, and if it becomes too much we can stop.”

Corchvorn turned around to face the small elf in front of him. Gods, Erestor was beautiful. He wished so much that Erestor could be his…

“Alright,” said the larger boy. “Let’s try.”

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

“Are you sure this is alright?” Corchvorn asked nervously. The library was quiet this afternoon. Only a handful of scribes inhabited the large facility, and they were across the huge space near a large bank of bright windows while studiously transcribing old, worn books for binding.

Erestor nodded and set out his books and parchment. “This is a place of learning, and that is what we are here to do.”

Corchvorn sighed and set out his own books: tomes of ancient battles and strategies. “I still don’t understand how you can help me with this. I hardly suspect Lord Elrond demands you to read and understand skirmish tactics.”

“No,” Erestor agreed. “However, I am very good at comprehension.”

“Well then, let’s get to it.”

Three hours later, Erestor had understood and deciphered some of the greatest strategies ever used by elven armies, and Corchvorn was…disoriented to say the least.

“And the right flank does…what?”

Erestor sighed and traced a pattern on the map in front of them. “Here…and here,” he pointed to specific spots.

“…why?”

The darkling looked into the perplexed eyes of the young warrior next to him. “To break the ranks of the enemy, see?” His fingers traced again purposefully against the map to point the positions of friend and foe.

“And that worked?”

“Apparently, otherwise I doubt King Gil-galad would have used it.”

Corchvorn’s head thumped to the table in near despair. “I’m never going to understand this before my next exam. It’s too complicated.”

“You just need to concentrate,” Erestor said, patting Corchvorn’s head in a rather patronizing way.

“I am.”

“You’re letting your frustration get in the way of learning. Just relax and be patient. If there is anything we elves have in abundance, it’s time.”

Corchvorn lifted his head from the table to give Erestor a rueful half-smile. “How can you always be so calm?”

The darkling shrugged his slender shoulders. “It’s just the way I am.”

“You know, I always admired that about you.”

“Admired what?”

“That you could be so calm, even when…when…we were hurting you. You never got angry.”

Erestor dropped his eyes to the table. “I was too scared to be angry. That is hardly something to admire, and I don’t believe that I was ever calm.”

“Anger…it’s…darker and-I don’t know,” Corchvorn shook his head. “It’s worse. Fear is clean and natural. Everyone feels fear, but…I’ve only seen anger brought out by the worst in someone.”

“I guess…I can see your point.”

Corchvorn heaved a wretched sigh as he pulled a large, open tome forward. “You always were above and beyond us when it came to these things,” he said distractedly as he smoothed the pages of the book.

Erestor smiled, glad to be on a different, less uncomfortable subject. “Don’t feel bad. I just have a talent for it.”

“And I feel like a simpleton.”

“Would you feel better if I bumbled around with a practice sword for awhile? I assure you that I am just as awkward there as you are here,” Erestor said with a rueful tilt to his mouth.

Corchvorn tapped his fingers absently against the paper. “Have you ever even picked up a sword?”

Erestor nodded with a little blush of embarrassment. “I have multiple times. Glorfindel is trying to teach me, but I fear I may be hopeless. He jokes that I should be grateful I can run fast.”

“He really said that?”

An amused nod. “He’s quite correct. I’d be better off running away from a skirmish than joining in. I’d probably harm more friends than foes.”

Corchvorn snorted. “You must be really bad.”

“Rather like a horse trying to waltz.”

“Much like me trying to make sense of this…mess,” he said sadly. “How will I possibly be able to go into officer’s training if I can’t…” a forlorn sigh.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m here to help you now, remember?”

“Ya…ya you are. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I don’t exactly deserve it.”

Erestor downcast his eyes. “I…I guess I believe that everyone deserves a second chance.”

“You know…you’re the only one that knows that I’m…that way. You’ve given me more than a chance. The fact that you’re not…not…”

“Rejecting you? Calling you names? Beating you?” Erestor said with an eyebrow raised in irony.

Corchvorn blushed brightly. “All of that. You’re a better person than I am. Truly. I hope that one day I can return your favors and kindness.”

“I hope you never have cause to,” Erestor said softly.

Corchvorn nodded with a smile. “I can agree with that.”

“Speaking of old times…” Erestor said. “What do your friends think of you spending time with me?”

The burly young elf shrugged his wide shoulders. “I haven’t been around them since Glorfindel…”

“Ah,” Erestor said succinctly. “I see.” The darkling flipped to the next page in the book and glanced over the text. “So…what do you do now without them?”

“I study with you,” the young warrior said with a grin.

“That’s hardly as entertaining as gallivanting around the countryside.”

Corchvorn looked at this companion with appraising eyes. The soft light of the library made Erestor seem to glow slightly, his dark hair shining with subtle sapphire highlights. Scholarly, ink-stained fingers fiddled with the edge of a page. Pale skin and red, sweet lips drew the eye and held it. “I don’t know,” the brown haired boy said softly. “I think I’m quite enjoying it.”

Erestor blushed five shades of red and looked down at the text. “Let’s continue with the fifteenth flanking tactic of the third month of the Last Alliance…”

Corchvorn smiled and flipped the page in his tome.

TBC…