Spring In Rivendell

Title: Spring in Rivendell
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 9/?
Pairings: Erestor/Elrond, Erestor/Glorfindel, Elrond/Glorfindel, Elrond/Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: This chapter R (for language and violence)
Warnings: Slash, a rather rare view on elf sexuality, mpreg, and forgive my terrible attempts at elvish.
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.


Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel made haste to get to their rooms. Once there, Erestor simply changed his soiled hip wrap for a clean one. “I will go first and greet the Her Bitchiness. You need to look your best when you greet her Elrond, so take your time and make yourself look nice.” He paused on his way out the door. “And a sword wouldn’t hurt anything,” he added as he disappeared.

“He’s right,” Glorfindel sighed. “I’ll draw some hot water if you pick out a set of robes. We’ll get you cleaned up and looking Lordly in no time.”

“Thank you, beloved,” said Elrond, as he began to dig in his wardrobe for an appropriate outfit.

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Erestor entered the receiving room where the officials of the Lothlorien party had been ensconced for the time being. Celeborn rose as the councilor entered, and started to walk toward him with a friendly smile. A smile which died as Galadriel ‘hummphed’ angrily. The White Lady and the Chief Councilor had never gotten along. Ever. Even before Celebrian had passed into the Undying Lands, he and the lady had been at odds. Their conversations were made up of little more than catfights and verbal daggers. Erestor had instantly disliked the arrogant and selfish female the first time he had met her as one of Gil-Galad’s advisors, and he made no effort to hide his contempt of her.

“Is this how you treat all of your guests? Stick them in a room for an indeterminate amount of time until you deem yourself ready to receive them?” She turned and gave Erestor a deadly glare.

Erestor smiled sweetly. “I am truly sorry, my Lady, but we were not prepared for your visit, as we received no correspondence as would be *proper* for a visiting dignitary. We were otherwise engaged when you arrived, and I have come as soon as I was able. The Lord is still freshening up, and will be with us shortly.”

“Otherwise engaged, indeed. You reek of sex,” Galadriel sneered. She came face-to-face with the advisor and placed her hand on his abdomen, digging in her sharp fingernails. “Already you quicken with seed. Who is the father? Do you even know? Or have you lain down for so many that you can no longer remember?”

“I assure you I know exactly who the father is,” Erestor said happily, as if nothing could have bothered him, simply because he knew it drove Galadriel insane. He picked Galadriel’s hand off of his stomach as if it were a disgusting piece of garbage and began to wipe at his abdomen as if to rid it of some vile muck. He continued, “I can also assure you that Elrond was ecstatic when he learned I was carrying his child.”

Galadriel backhanded Erestor into the wall, her eyes livid with rage. “That should have been MY daughter’s child you carry within you. MY daughter should be carrying the child of Elrond, not some filthy whore!”

She drew back her hand to slap Erestor once again, when a voice from the door stopped her. “I would not do that again if I were you,” said Glorfindel calmly as he strode into the room to stand in front of his mate. His sword glittered dangerously at his side, and his eyes were feral.

Galadriel stepped back marginally, appraising the new opponent in front of her. “I offer you a deal, Lord,” she began. “You hand over the valley to me now, and I will be easy on its people. If you fight me, I will make your lives hell. You and your slut can leave, and I will not follow you. However, should you choose to stay, you will suffer my wrath.”

“This decision is not mine to make,” Glorfindel replied. “You must take this up with the Lord of the Valley.”

A flash of confusion crossed Galadriel’s face before the ever-present sneer replaced it. “Nice try, Balrog-Slayer. Give me your answer now, or you will regret your stalling."

“A delight to see you, as always, Galadriel.” Elrond remarked drolly from the doorway. Erestor’s breath caught at the sight Elrond made. His robes made him look even more regal and intimidating than usual, his hair braided and knotted perfectly, sword at his side, and Vilya sparkled on is finger. He was every inch the Lord of Imladris, and it made Erestor weak in the knees. Forgetting the stinging pain in his face, the advisor went to his knees in front of Elrond in a show of subservience, followed closely by Glorfindel. Erestor purred happily at his mates, and Elrond, stimulated by Erestor’s purring, pulled the councilor up to place a claiming kiss on his mouth. Parting with his exotic husband, he pulled Glorfindel up and gave him the same treatment.

The normally pale Galadriel was now whiter than snow, and looked as if she had been hit upside the head with a warg. “You live,” she gasped.

“And you overstep your boundaries,” Elrond hissed angrily. “I want you out of my valley before sunset today. After that, you are fair game. Now, out of my sight!” Galadriel did not move for a moment, stunned as she was. Elrond growled threateningly, assuming a dominant stance. Galadriel’s attention returned to the dark-haired lord, and she hissed, but backed up in a placating manner. She and her councilors backed out of the receiving room slowly. To turn their backs on the others would have been folly. You never turn your back to an enemy. The only exception to the mass exodus seemed to be Celeborn, who stood in the same place he had stopped when Galadriel had begun her confrontation with Erestor.

“Come, Celeborn!” Galadriel commanded, as if Celeborn were nothing more than a dog. Celeborn looked to his wife, whom he had once loved. His face was full of sadness and loss, finally realizing that his beloved wife was no more. Instead of retreating to his wife’s side, he instead went to Elrond and knelt at his feet, blatantly stating his new allegiance.

“You cretin! How dare you betray me!” Galadriel moved to strike Celeborn, but Elrond growled threateningly.

“He is under my protection now, and unless you want to Challenge me, I suggest you leave.”

Galadriel hissed again, murder in her eyes and fled. Many of her advisors lingered slightly, casting longing looks in Celeborn’s direction before finally following their Lady out of the Last Homely House.

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“I thank you for your kindness, my Lord,” Celeborn began where he knelt at Elrond’s feet.

“There is nothing to thank. I would do the same for anyone who sought sanctuary with me.” He reached down and tilted Celeborn’s face to his, gasping at the changes he saw there. “It has been long since I last saw you, my friend, and the changes I see are not for the good.” Celeborn, despite being elven, was aging. Wrinkles stood out on his face, and he simply looked….old.

“Galadriel has been draining you,” whispered Erestor, where he sat pressed against Elrond’s thigh.

“Yes,” said Celeborn in an embarrassed manner. He once again lowered his head to stare at the ground.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Erestor soothed, brushing brittle, silver hair away from the tired face. “She is a witch, a warrior. You are not a match for her, and she used you terribly. No mate should harm another such as she has harmed you."

"I am so sorry, my old friend," Elrond murmured. "The distance that will be between you now should keep her from draining you further. I have many protections on this valley, and she should be unable to reach you here."

Celeborn lowered his head once again. "Thank you, my Lord."

"None of that now," Elrond reached down and pulled Celeborn to his feet. "As far as I'm concerned, you have always been my equal, and I will always treat you as such." Celeborn inclined his head, and then focused on Erestor who was still happily purring where he knelt by Elrond's leg.

"It is good to see you so happy again, Erestor," Celeborn smiled.

"I have the two most wonderful mates on Arda. Why wouldn't I be happy?" Erestor reached for and grasped Glorfindel's hand, grinning sweetly.

"Are you truly expecting?"

"Aye," Erestor applied as he absently rubbed his abdomen.

"How far along..." Celeborn asked, knowing how delicate an ellian pregnancy could be.

Elrond caressed Erestor's hair lovingly. "He is about two weeks along."

Celeborn released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Good. The farther along the better. I am very happy for you."

"Thank you, my friend...Erestor? Would you mind finding quarters for Celeborn while I go and finish what we abandoned earlier?" Elrond queried.

"Of course beloved." Erestor stood and gestured for Celeborn to follow him, chattering happily about nothing.

Glorfindel and Elrond watched Erestor exit the room, his slim hips swaying in the hip wrap sensually. They both sighed happily. "How did we get so lucky?" Glorfindel inquired of his bonded mate.

"The Valar have blessed us," Elrond replied. He took the Seneschal's hand. "Would you mind joining me in my study?"

Glorfindel smiled. "I'd love to."

Hand in hand, they walked through the Last Homely House, barely watching where they were going as they gazed lovingly at each other.