To feel good.

Title: To feel good.
Author: Fishy (fishyz9@yahoo.com)
Beta: Kei.
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: All the broken hearted want, is to feel good again.
Notes: AU, Slash. I have a tendency to write two versions of one fic, and twisting certain parts into alternative endings or story lines. This is one of those, but I shan’t say which fic it is of course ;)

To feel good.

Nothing felt good anymore.

He turned the gold band over in his sweaty palm, hidden deep within his pocket.

Erestor watched him, quickly glancing away when he caught his eye. It was not out of coyness, or out of fear of non-reciprocation that he looked away. His quick retreat was always due to the unworthiness he felt at still, after all this time, having these romantic feelings returned - waiting for him.

“Is there something you wish to say, Erestor?” Glorfindel asked from across the small chess table which they regularly occupied, and blatantly not for the chess.

Erestor paused a second before answering, his mind speaking yes, he lips speaking…

“No, no.” And with a clearing of his throat, he looked back to the board, his brow furrowed as if in thought over strategy.

“You…are sure?” Glorfindel prompted gently, hopefully. Something that always cut the advisor deeply.

Erestor looked up, holding his breath, and gave an unconvincing nod, “Umhm,” and quickly tore his gaze away form those - as always - disappointed, melancholy eyes.

Rashly, his hand darted out and committed his bishop to an uncalculated move, which only served to show that yes, he did wish to say something, and had been wishing to do so for a long time. Glorfindel of course saw this, and in his wonderful way, his wonderful, sweet way, did not take advantage of the rash move and the opening in the game, and opted to advance one of his pawns instead.

The words left Erestor’s lips on a breath of amusement, unbidden and regretted a moment later.

“You’re adorable.”

His teeth gritted together and his hand clutched the ring in his pocket tightly as his frame froze. It was getting worse, harder to keep it all inside. He resisted rolling his eyes at his own thoughtless words, and gathered the courage to look up from the board.

Oh no, there was a slight tint of colour to the warrior’s cheeks, a small, hesitant curve of his lips that was eager to spread into a smile but was held back. And worse yet, there was a glimmer of hope in his beautiful eyes. Oh, his beautiful eyes.

Such simple, small words had meant too much to him. And as the hesitant upturn of his lips threatened to become more bright, Glorfindel nodded and lowered his head in acknowledgement of having heeded the advisor's words - his accidental compliment and show of affection. Glorfindel’s hair had fallen from behind one ear and was not pushed back, even as he supposedly touched the underside of his nose with his forefinger, sniffing, none of which hid his pleasure. He was even more obvious than Erestor, and unable to hide it.

Guilt, always he was laden down with such guilt. He did not deserve such loving reactions to his words. He had no right to speak them. He was terrible, and at that moment he hated himself. Erestor knew he was at a final crossroads; either he would cease giving Glorfindel these confusing signals, these glimmers of hope, or he would forgive himself for the pain he had inflicted upon the warrior so many years ago and grasp now what his heart most desired.

Eternity alone, or with the one he loved? It seemed a simple question with a simple answer. He knew that if he did not already have Glorfindel’s forgiveness, then he would perhaps be able to earn it back now, and all this tedious uncertainty and waiting could be over. He would feel as if he were….he didn’t know, as if he deserved Glorfindel’s love.

Yes or no?

Do it or not?

Stay quiet or speak?

Keep the ring in his pocket, or wear it?

He glanced up again, and saw that Glorfindel seemed…what? Happy? Yes, there was a glimmer of something akin to that about him. Their eyes met, and neither seemed to retreat. And then, with some apprehension, he sent the warrior a small smile, which Glorfindel then returned with barely concealed delight. At once, his decision was made.

Erestor cleared his throat and sat back in his seat, rather than hunching over the board and, had he looked up, he would have seen a look of unparalleled hurt at his having broken their brief contact. He would have seen that small smile slip away and those proud shoulders slouch.

But instead of seeing this, he drew his hand out of his pocket in a tight fist, his heart beginning to race.

**Many years ago**

Hearing the door to his quarters open without so much as a knock, he smiled, knowing who it was. Rising, he walked the short distance to his small sitting room and saw Erestor there. The advisor, who had been craning his head to look into the bathroom, turned and then smiled gently when he finally spotted the one he sought.

Glorfindel’s pace immediately slowed, his own enthusiastic greeting beginning to waver at the look in those dark eyes. There was fear, sadness and, oh gods, there was pity.

“Glorfindel, there you are.” He spoke softly, something that only worried the warrior-in-training further. “Um...” Erestor laughed suddenly, briefly and nervously, gesturing to the door he had just entered. “I always forget to knock.”

Noting how Erestor did not come forward to embrace him as he always did, Glorfindel replied in a voice even quieter and slightly unsure.

“I like it that you don’t knock.”

“Hmm,” Erestor nodded.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and finally Erestor spoke.

“We…we need to talk, Glorfindel.”

‘Please no,’ he mind raced.

“Alright,” he said, and gestured to a nearby divan.

They sat, and silence reigned again. Finally Erestor turned to him, fiddling with something that he was holding. It was then that the blond’s hand darted out, but paused just before those slender fingers.

“Y-you’re not wearing my ring, Erestor.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor began, his palm opening, the ring nestled there.

“Why aren’t you wearing it?” he whispered.

“I…you see….oh, I don’t know how to do this,” he said brokenly, his shoulders slumping.

“Eres…”

“I can’t be with you, Glorfindel.” he interrupted.

The warrior stared blankly towards him, sadness, overwhelming him.

“I should give this back...”

“No! I...why? Why?!”

The advisor felt his heart splinter as his younger lover tried to push his hands away, push the ring away, not wanting it back.

“Glorfindel, I need you to - to understand that…that Ecthelion and I…well we…”

"Ecthelion and you? There is no Ecthelion and you, not anymore!”

“Glorfindel, please...”

“No!” He stood suddenly. “No! It is Glorfindel and I! Glorfindel and I!”

Erestor stood and Glorfindel stepped away, finally backing up against the wall. Erestor stopped before him, prying open his hands and forcing the ring into them.

“Glorfindel, I need to, me and ‘Thel…” The advisor swallowed hard when he heard Glorfindel let out a choked breath at the use of his previous lover’s abbreviated name. “We…we owe it to each other to see if there is still something…You know that we were together for years, Glorfindel, decades….”

“He left you! You have me now...” he pleaded.

“It would not be fair, Glorfindel, not to any of us. I need you to understand this...” His brows drew together sadly, and he reached over gently to touch Glorfindel’s now damp cheeks. “Please,” he whispered. “Do not weep.”

“You said you loved me,” Glorfindel whispered shakily. “You said...”

“I know, and I do, I promise you that.” He now gently cupped the warrior’s face, gaining reluctant eye contact. “But it is wrong of me to love you whilst thoughts of him are still in my mind. I should not be doing this to you.”

“Then just forget him, please...”

“Oh that I could. It’s just that…we have a history, Glorfindel.”

“So that is what you base this on? Your years compared to our months?”

“Glorfindel, I can’t love the two of you at the same time, they are different loves and they confuse me so! I need time, I need to understand, to see what there is left between us.”

“I gave you everything I have,” Glorfindel whispered, looking at the floor.

Erestor thought back then, to their first intimate night, to their first coupling. To Glorfindel’s first coupling.

He was younger by only twenty odd years, but his innocent and loving ways gave him a more youthful persona than the rest of them. And when they had met, Erestor had made clear that he was not ready for a serious affair, but one night Glorfindel had insisted that Erestor come back to his quarters after their nightly walk together and he had relented, expecting nothing more than a night cap. But as he had stood in Glorfindel’s sitting room, turning in a slow circle as he observed the modest surroundings, Glorfindel had re-appeared.

He had walked from his bathroom in nothing but a thin night robe, his hair unbound and feet bare. When he finally met Erestor’s gaze, he had smiled so nervously, so hopefully, that the advisor had been robbed of breath.

Seeing him visibly swallow, Erestor did likewise as Glorfindel then slowly pulled at the sash of his robe, looking to the floor as he shrugged the fabric from his shoulders.

They were of the same height, though he was pale, whereas Glorfindel was bronze, his colouring dark where Glorfindel’s was light. He was of a slim build, whereas Glorfindel possessed a more muscular stature, streamlined and oh so desirable. He had been in a relationship, now past, of many years, whereas Glorfindel…he had not known just what it was the soldier was giving him until a pained hiss had filled his ears, just as he had thrust forwards.

He felt a certain shame now, just as he had then.

“And of that I was, and am unworthy.”

“I want you to keep the ring,”

“Glorfindel, no,” Erestor said as the ring was pushed back on his finger.

“Yes, yes!” he insisted again when his action met with resistance. “Because I am going to wait for you,” he cried. “I‘ll just wait until you know it‘s me you‘re supposed to be with…”

“Don’t you dare sell yourself so short, Glorfindel!”

“Why not?!” he shouted back. “My only love has just left me! I am not good enough for him.” His voice broke. “I’m not enough, I-I’m inadequate, I’m wrong, I’m not…” He went off on a tirade of self-loathing before Erestor’s horrified eyes.

To put a stop to his rant, unable to listen to such despair, Erestor touched their lips together in a closed downward bow shape. When they parted, he rested their brows together and let out a pained sigh when he felt Glorfindel’s head shake from side to side.

“No…no please…”

“I will always have a place inside of me only for you, Glorfindel.” As he drew away, he moved free of the limp hands that tried to pull him back.

“Don’t leave me,” Glorfindel choked. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You will find another, one worthy of you, one who can be yours entirely. One you will love…”

“Never.”

“Glorfindel…”

“Never!”

Erestor shook his head, not knowing quite what to say, “I should go,” he whispered, and only paused briefly at seeing Glorfindel with his back against the wall, slide to the floor, his shoulders shaking

“Valar forgive me, and give him strength,” he whispered to himself. With his hand upon the door handle, he was ready to leave when a broken voice called to him.

“Think of me? Please?”

He turned back and let his own tears escape at seeing this elf, who he truly did love, so alone and broken upon the floor.

“Always, always Glorfindel.”


**Present**

“What do you have there?” Glorfindel asked, and Erestor was brought back to the present.

“This?” he asked rather dumbly, gesturing to his closed fist.

“Yes, that,” Glorfindel smiled.

“I was, ah…spring cleaning.” He laughed nervously.

“It is winter, Erestor.” Glorfindel quipped.

He loved that, he loved it when Glorfindel became more comfortable around him, or around anyone else for that matter. Comfortable enough to jest, anyway.

“Well, my rooms were in such a dire state I feared summer would not come soon enough.”

“You always were messy,” Glorfindel spoke easily, though paused and seemingly pulled back into himself a little, having just referred to the past, their past.

It was then that Glorfindel did take his bishop, something that, for some reason, made him rather proud of the Captain.

“That I was, and - good move.”

Glorfindel nodded, idly fiddling with the bishop as he remained leaning forwards over the board.

“Anyway,” Erestor began, his hand now beginning to shake as he slowly opened it. He swallowed, waiting for Glorfindel to look up and see what he was holding.

“I found this.”

Glorfindel looked up, and froze. He visibly took a deep breath, and leaned back in his chair, clutching the bishop tightly in one hand, just as Erestor had clutched the ring only a moment ago.

“Oh,” he responded in a whisper.

“Yes,” Erestor replied, waiting for more of a reaction.

“I would have thought that…” He rubbed the back of his neck, not even glancing forwards, “…that you would have lost it, or…” He returned his attention to the chess piece, and spoke again in a barely audible voice, “…that you would have thrown it away,” he shrugged.

“Thrown it…away?” Erestor asked in mild astonishment. “I would never do such a thing!”

“How am I to know that?” Glorfindel shot back.

“I have kept this ring in my pocket, on a chain, and when you were dead I wore it upon my finger, every day since our parting!”

There was an unbearable silence between them before Glorfindel next spoke.

“I thought you were spring cleaning?”

“Yes, well...” Erestor flushed, sitting back in his chair, having not realised he had leaned clear over the board into Glorfindel’s own personal space.

“I suppose I had better give this back to you.” It had all gone wrong, he should not have taken it out of his pocket.

“It was a gift,” Glorfindel finally replied, uncertain of where they stood, but then again, was he ever?

“Then I will keep it for, despite what you think, it is most dear to me - as are you,” he finished in a weak voice.

When Glorfindel did not speak again, the situation became clear to him. Glorfindel wanted him, just as he longed for the Captain. But he was not allowed to have him. He had had his chance, and he had left it weeping upon the floor all those years ago. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear to be sitting there, to be in the same room as Glorfindel. He felt his eyes sting upon realising it was really over and that neither of them would ever be truly happy again.

He stood, taking all the blame on his own shoulders, and only turned to speak once more before departing to his won rooms.

“May I wear it?” he spoke softly.

Glorfindel sat slouched, looking as confused, defeated and as sad as Erestor.

“Only when you are thinking of me.”

Erestor slipped the ring on his finger. “Then it shall always be worn.”

Glorfindel stood, opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but Erestor had left the quiet and now empty alcove they occupied every eve. He sat back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands.


~*~


The dead of night, a time when someone in love, such as himself, should be entangled in passion, held possessively by lithe limbs, or be stroking the dark head that should rest on his chest. Glorfindel lay in bed now, in agony over not taking what it was he had wanted for so long.

It was not a case of forgiveness, it was a need to feel safe. To feel secure. He wanted to pin Erestor down and be able to say that he was his. That he owned him, that he would always be his. And that was the one thing that he could not be sure of if Erestor were to come back to him.

These horrible thoughts circled his mind, and only paused in their dangerous tracks when he heard his sitting room door open. He leaned up in bed. No one would simply dare to enter his quarters unbidden.

He had nearly forgotten that there was one who had always dared such a thing, and he nearly gasped as Erestor’s form appeared hesitantly in the doorframe of his bedroom.

“Y-you didn’t knock,” he said rather defensively, leaning back on his hands, the bed sheets falling to pool around his waist.

“You used to like it when I didn’t knock.”

Glorfindel did not reply; he was not obligated to, so Erestor continued.

“I…I thought that I would lay it all out, once and for all,” he began, feeling braver than he ever had before. “No hiding behind fears, guilt or hurts. I love you, want you, there will be no other for me. You love me, you want me, there has never been another for you. I know this.”

He glanced down at the sash that held together the silken robe he wore, and swallowed as he pulled it. He looked Glorfindel square in the eye, unable to make out the warrior’s thoughts, as he shrugged the robe from his shoulders.

His hair was loose, his feet bare. Now that he was completely naked, he took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes a moment.

“I left you, broken and weeping upon the floor. Now I give you the chance to send me away naked and ashamed. Let us just know what it is the other wants. Let us be done with all this pain.”

Glorfindel swallowed and pulled himself further up the bed, his back pressing against the headboard.

“Come here,” he spoke in a firm voice that was not entirely his own.

Erestor opened his eyes, and shuddered when he saw the power and strength in that broad frame. Glorfindel was no longer his younger lover, left heartbroken and full of nothing but self-loathing. Aye, he was still as sweet and, despite all the world’s possible troubles, innocent in his own fashion. But he was also Captain here, he had seen and faced perils greater than most could imagine. Erestor hoped that the one they faced now together would be their last and most harrowing.

He walked to the side of the bed, and knew he visibly trembled. Glorfindel pulled back the sheets, his want clear.

“Get in, that’s it. Now lay down beside me.”

Erestor followed all instructions, he would do anything, anything to make it right again.

“The drawer next to you. Oil, get it out.”

Erestor’s breath came in quicker intakes now, as he leaned over to open the drawer. He had never known Glorfindel to be like this before. But he wanted it, he wanted to know and love every sweet, angry, soft and brutal part of him.

“There should be a small knife in there, also. That too.”

Confused and now worried, Erestor held a vial of oil in one hand and a small knife in the other. He swallowed as Glorfindel slowly moved over him, pinning him with his weight, purposefully laying himself between the councillor’s legs. Erestor watched as the vial was taken from his hand and laid upon the pillow. And he watched as the knife was taken from his other hand and brought before him, in clear view.

“If this is what will make it right for you,” he stopped to lick his lips apprehensively, his voice a nervous croak, “then I want you to know you may do whatever it is you wish. Whatever will gain your trust.”

He grew confused, however, when Glorfindel furrowed his brow in what appeared slight hurt.

“You think I would hurt you?” His tone had suddenly become more familiar, softer, intimate. More the way Erestor remembered it.

“Nay, but I deserve no more than…”

“Erestor, you were brave enough to come here. I will be brave enough to take us the rest of the way. But you need to know now, you need to understand that you…hurt me…” He spoke with such anguish that Erestor closed his eyes tightly, unable to endure such guilt.

“No, open your eyes, you owe me that much.”

Erestor opened his eyes.

“You hurt me in a way you cannot comprehend. If I had not died in battle, then….”

“No, don’t say that,” Erestor pleaded, his voice now thick with threatening tears. “Do not say it.”

Glorfindel relented, whatever he may have felt was not worth hurting Erestor in such a cruel way, even if it be the truth - he loved him too much.

“I need something, Erestor. I need to feel safe, secure in that you will not leave me…”

“I…”

“No, you will listen to me,” Glorfindel interrupted him. “I want you, all of you, I want to own you and I want to be owned. Cherish me, Erestor, I beg you, and let no other love or possess you but me.”

Erestor watched as Glorfindel took the knife and, in one slow motion, dragged it down hard across the palm of his hand, blood spilling instantly.

“Glorfindel!” Erestor cried, and attempted to sit up but was forced back down by Glorfindel’s bulk.

“A bond in every sense. By love and marriage, by breath and blood. Barbaric and primitive as it is, if you wish to stay in this bed then you will shed blood for me.”

“Binding?” he breathed.

A flash of old hurt crossed Glorfindel’s features.

“Do you think me so simple, Erestor?”

Erestor was stunned into silence.

“You went back to him once.”

And it was suddenly clear to Erestor what it was Glorfindel feared, what it was he was after, why he was doing what he was doing.

“You will see him again, Erestor. Not for a long time yet, but eventually you will see him upon the new shore.”

“He died as a friend, Glorfindel! We parted before his death!”

“That matters not. You parted as friends before taking my heart, also!”

“You don’t understand. I wanted to go back to you, but gods! How could I do that? After everything?” He searched Glorfindel’s eyes, intense with deep emotion. “Glorfindel, there is no Ecthelion in my future, save only his friendship, I swear to you…”

“You do not know the pain I suffered. You would leave me again, I know it…” His face contorted slightly as he fought back tears, “…and there would be no peace for me.”

A fierce resolve, the like of which he had never known, overtook Erestor. He took the knife from Glorfindel’s hand and looked up at him as he dragged the blade across his palm.

Glorfindel let out the breath he had been holding as he saw Erestor cut himself - for him. He frowned, though, as the dark elf did it again, and again, and again.

“Erestor!” He pulled the knife from his hand, suddenly horrified as to what he had driven Erestor to do.

He looked at the blood-soaked hand, five long gashes in all, barely visible amongst the torn flesh and flowing blood. He reached for the bed sheet to tear it, to stop the bleeding, but that bloody hand grasped his own injured one, and with an audible slapping of blood, and with a hiss leaving both of their lips, their fingers entwined until their knuckled turned white.

“Let me cut the other one,” Erestor shakily breathed against Glorfindel’s lips. “Let me bleed for you, please.”

“No, no, enough.”

Erestor’s hand squeezed, and blood oozed out between their fingers.

“Have me now, have me forever. I bind myself to you.”

Glorfindel closed his eyes and felt a tear escape, and he pressed his brow to Erestor’s.

“Bind,” he breathed, and it was done.

He possessed Erestor, blood mixed with seed, sweat mixed with tears. He rocked Erestor’s body until he screamed for mercy and for more. He was deep and forceful, to the brink of loving pain. His back rippled with blood as nails clawed into him. Erestor’s neck bled lightly in three thin rivulets as teeth sank into him. They were reduced to animals, grinding, primitive animals, and it was the most beautiful of all things.

Finally Glorfindel lay collapsed across Erestor’s chest, still snugly between the dark elf’s legs, Erestor panting heavily beneath him as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. And then there was a hand rubbing his back and stroking his hair. He inexplicably began tp weep, in a manner so violent and revealing that he was rolled onto his back without even noticing. When next he opened his eyes, Erestor was leaning above him, whispering words of love, and kissing him everywhere, everywhere.

“Speak, speak to me, Glorfindel,” he implored worriedly.

“I…” he began, stopping to take a breath and control the sobs that had so suddenly overwhelmed him. “I just feel….so good.”

“Good?” Erestor repeated, continuing to kiss away every tear with an absolute urgency.

“Good,” he said again. “I haven’t been able to feel good in so long, and now…”

“And now you feel good?” Erestor asked quietly, a dangerous swirling heat rapidly rebounding on his insides.

“Yes,” he croaked, nodding. “Good.”

“Good,” Erestor breathed, and his kisses became more heated, faster, as every inch of Glorfindel’s body became his. He had never felt such a primal heat inside of him as this.

His hands sought Glorfindel’s entrance, and were already stretching, preparing, as his teeth gnawed, his lips caressed.

“My golden flower, my brutal love. Mine, mine, mine...” he ground out between his teeth, as Glorfindel continued to weep in bliss.

Strong thighs squeezed his waist as he thrust with all his might. Yet somewhere in the midst of his adamant lovemaking he slowed, and both gathered their breath as the rubbing and friction of their flesh became unhurried and languid, heated and slick, as their eyes found one another.

Wet kisses, that would last for what seemed forever… One had never possessed and held, owned and become another, so fiercely, so undeniably, so simply and so completely.

Spent, they lay there, entwined and inseparable amongst the blood-smeared sheets, the scent of sweat, seed and tears hanging in the very air.

And they had never felt - so good.


The End.