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: 7/?
Pairings: Erestor/Lindir
Rating: PG-13
Word Count this Chapter: 2254
Warnings: Implied domestic abuse
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?


“You’re positive you’re up to this?” Elladan asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

Erestor smiled gently. “Yes, of course. I’m feeling very well, thanks to your father’s kindness.”

Elladan softly touched the side of Erestor’s face that, just a few days ago, sported savage bruises. “Your body may have healed, but…your heart,” the older elf whispered. His hand trailed from Erestor’s face, down his neck and covered his heart. “I fear you’re your heart is not ready for this.”

The smaller elf turned his eyes downward. “I…I don’t know if my heart would ever be ready for this. And…thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re my friend. Of course I’ll be there for you. We’ll go to your home, collect your things, and leave. It’s just that simple.”

“Just that simple,” Erestor said weakly.

Elladan’s face softened and he moved to embrace the slender body. “It’ll be quick, Erestor. This doesn’t have to be any more painful than it has to.”

The morning air was warm in the parlor where they sat. The splendid home was elegantly furnished, and the couch they sat on was quite comfortable was well as beautiful. The room was east facing and filled with sunlight. On the low table in front of them sat a tray of untouched pastries and two cups of calming tea, still steaming.

“Now look here,” Elladan said quietly. “Let’s get something in your belly and then we’ll head out.”

“What if he’s there?” Erestor whispered fearfully…and hopefully.

The older elf shook his head. “We will deal with that if it comes. I suspect that he’s…gone.”

“G-gone?” Erestor choked, on the verge of tears.

“Don’t, sweet one. Let’s get this done and over with. Then…then you can mourn and heal. One more step, and you can rest.”

Erestor nodded and took a deep, shivering, fortifying breath. “Thank you, for everything.”

Elladan smiled tenderly. “I would be remiss to do any less. Now eat something and drink your tea. It might make you feel better. Here,” he reached forward and picked up one of the folded, flaky pastries stuffed with fresh berries. He pulled off a corner and offered it to Erestor’s soft lips.

The darkling smiled timidly and opened his mouth to accept the morsel. He chewed with a soft curl to his lips when Elladan placed the rest in his hands. Erestor finished the turnover and sipped his tea as Elladan laid waste to the rest of the plate of goodies.

“Would you like the last one?” the bigger elf asked.

Erestor shook his head and watched with a grin as Elladan devoured the last pastry.

“Are you full, yet?” the darkling giggled.

“Never. My father says I have a hollow leg,” he smirked as he patted his thigh.

“Hollow leg, indeed,” Erestor chuckled.

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

The carriage pulled up to the little hovel that was once Erestor’s home. The beautifully crafted, sumptuous coach was rather incongruous in front of the derelict hut. From the plush interior, a handsome elf stepped down and turned back to hand out a slender, sweet-faced youth. Both carried tired, poignant airs, and the smaller elf had a distinct aura of despair. None of these things were totally out of place in this district of the city. Pain was a daily, unavoidable part of life. However, it was regrettable to see such beautiful, striking creatures as heartbroken as they were.

The more slender of the pair moved toward the shack and unlocked the door with a key he pulled from his pocket.

“He…he hasn’t been here, since we left. Everything is the same,” Erestor said quietly. The blood stain from where he hit his head still dirtied the floor. The bedcovers were mussed with another stain of murky brown on the pillow. All of their things were in the same place he had left them. A bowl still lay on the floor, forgot and forlorn where he had thrown it in a fit of anger.

“I’m sorry, Erestor,” Elladan murmured. And truly, he was. He was sorry Erestor had to deal with the pain of rejection from someone he obviously loved so much. He was sorry that everything had come to this. He was sorry he couldn’t find that ungrateful wretch make him sorry for what he’d done to Erestor.

But being sorry didn’t change anything.

Erestor nodded and looked down at the bag he dangled in his fingers. With a sigh that verged on tears, he went to the tiny dresser and pulled open the top drawer. His clothes were neatly folded inside, as always. He pulled out a shirt and…he couldn’t move. It was as if he was frozen. Like this act would be the end. The final nail in the coffin of his relationship, of his love.

“It’s going to be alright,” Elladan whispered and grasped Erestor’s hand gently. “I know that it’s not right now, but someday. Someday it’s going to be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

Erestor sobbed one short, huffing cry and his trembling hand stuffed the shirt in the bag. Systematically, they went through the small hut and gathered Erestor’s belongings. One bag after another was filled and piled neatly into the carriage outside. Erestor skipped through Lindir’s belongings and left them in their places. They would be abandoned; there was no need for them, after all. A small purse of coins was left on the bed as undoubtedly the landlord would be by soon to collect the rent. He could do what he wanted with the rest of the belongings, as far as Erestor was concerned.

It wasn’t his problem anymore.

It didn’t take long before everything was stowed away and the hut was cleared of everything Erestor held of value. He even left some of his clothes, those that were worn through and no longer good for anything but dish rags.

Without a word, they loaded themselves into the carriage. As the coachman urged the horses into motion, Erestor leaned into the solid presence of the other elf and cried until they reached the lofty estate of Elladan’s friend.

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

“Here we are,” Elladan said as he walked Erestor into the comfortable guest room. The smaller elf leaned in, letting Elladan guide his stuttering steps. He felt so tired now, after such a painful ordeal. Removing his things from the home he had shared with his husband and leaving Lindir’s belongings made his heart ache. Abandoning their home, their life, seemed like an impossible, insurmountable wound that would never heal.

Elladan gently lowered Erestor to the bed. The younger elf sighed softly, a tiny, lonely little sound. Behind them, a sturdy servant carried the multiple bags Erestor had cleared from his previous home. Discretely, he put them just inside the door in a neat pile and left without a word.

“Would you like me to help you with anything? Or would you like to be alone?”

Erestor considered Elladan’s words for a moment before replying. “I…I just want to be alone for a little while, please.”

“Alright, little one. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.” With that, Elladan squeezed Erestor’s shoulder softly before exiting the room and shutting the door softly behind them.

Erestor stared at the closed door for a long moment and glanced briefly at the bags before looking away. His hands twisted in his lap, and, with great trepidation, Erestor looked down at his clasped fingers. The shining glint of metal from his marriage finger made tears well in his eyes. A few warm drops of moisture tracing down his cheeks heralded a flood. He cried heavily, yet silently as he twirled his wedding ring around his finger. They hadn’t been able to afford real silver for their bonding rings, but the smooth steel was nicely crafted and had suited its purpose. It hadn’t matter to them at the time. They had been so in love that the only thing that mattered was each other and their vows to always love and cherish one another. They’d been young, were still young, probably too young, if truth be told.

Erestor had gone against the advice of his parents to marry Lindir. He hadn’t heeded any of their advice. He dropped out of school, married, and left home at the whim of his husband, his love, his everything. At the time, it had seemed like the perfect thing to do. Lindir’s plan had seemed so foolproof. They believed in each other. They had the world in front of them…

And now that world had crashed around their ears.

Erestor slipped his ring off his finger and held it in the palm of his hand.

He was a bonded elf. His soul was connected to his husbands, but…he couldn’t feel him anymore. It was a startling realization that made Erestor’s eyes widen. How long had it been? How had he not noticed? He’d always been able to feel his husband’s soul entwined with his own until…until when?

It almost made him more upset by the fact that he hadn’t felt the dissociation than that it had occurred. How had he not noticed?

Maybe it was his soul’s way of protecting him, Erestor considered. Perhaps it was that lack of connection that ensured he survived the cruel rejection by his husband.

He’d always assumed the sundering of bound souls would be an excruciating ordeal. He couldn’t imagine how it could be otherwise. But this…it was almost as if their binding had fallen apart, like a braid shaken loose from its ribbon.

What did that mean?

Erestor’s fingers curled inward to trap the band of metal in his palm. It was over now, regardless. Lindir had harmed him and abandoned him. The kind-hearted and wise Lord Elrond had informed Erestor of what his choices were at this juncture. He could remain as a bound elf, forever without his mate or wait in vain for Lindir to return. Yet, there was also the option of annulment. Annulled bonds were rare and nearly unheard of, but Elrond was sure one would be granted in Erestor’s case. The hurt caused to the darkling, both mental and physical, and the desertion by his husband was enough to confirm the bonding broken beyond repair. It would take but a short trip to the local court to sign a parchment, and the sundering would be sanctioned. Elrond had taken the liberty of drawing up a contract should Erestor choose that option.

A signature and his marriage was over. It was such a mellowing, shameful thought.

Could he have done something different? What did he do wrong to have his husband be so spiteful towards him? It hadn’t been his association with Elladan, Erestor conjectured. The problems between them had started long before that. He’d tried so hard to keep up hope. He’d done everything to bolster his husband’s spirits, to love him unconditionally, to be Lindir’s light and laughter. But it was as if…as if he’d never been quite enough. Or perhaps Lindir had never wanted to accept Erestor’s support in the first place. It hadn’t ever taken much for his husband’s depressed nature to rear its ugly head. Erestor had struggled so much just trying to…to…be everything for Lindir.

He’d prayed, day in and day out. He’d lived on prayers and hope.

Why did this happen to him?

Erestor opened his fingers again, which had clenched so tight that the smooth edges of the ring had made sharp red lines against his skin. The band had once symbolized the beginning of a new life and love everlasting. Now…now it felt like a heavy, leaden weight strangling his heart. Erestor stood, his light cloak still fastened around his neck.

The well-oiled hinges of the door were silent as he opened it. The hall beyond was warmly lit by a window at the end whose curtains were tied back. Erestor silently went to Elladan’s room and knocked softly at the door. As expected, it was immediately answered by the handsome lordling.

“Erestor?” Elladan queried.

“I…I’d like to go to the docks, please.”

The older elf didn’t question. Erestor certainly acted as if he had a mission in mind, and if it was important to Erestor than Elladan was not one to second guess. The older elf called for the coach and loaded his precious cargo inside.

The ride was quiet and filled only with the rumble of cartwheels over cobblestones and the sharp pounding of hooves. The docks were not far, but crowded streets made the trip long. Erestor hadn’t specified any particular part of the docks he wanted to be brought to, so Elladan had instructed the driver to take them to a quiet area, one used to moor the expensive, finely crafted vessels the wealthy used when traveling or for short outings at sea.

Erestor walked along the docks, thoughts turned deep within. Elladan followed close behind but not interfering with whatever Erestor had decided to do here. The darkling would let him know if he was needed, and he would be near if needs be.

After pacing for long minutes which turned in to long hours, Erestor stood at the very edge of a lengthy outcropping of wooden slats. The sea winds twirled his cloak around him, like the wings of a broken bird. Elladan watched as Erestor opened his tightly clenched hand, and he caught the vaguest shine of metal before that slender hand tilted and the glint was gone, swallowed by the restless waves of the ocean.