Love and its Labours

Title: Love and its labours.
Author: Fishy (fishyz9@yahoo.com)
Beta: Kei.
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: Overall NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: AU, Mpreg, WIP.
Summary: Love and it's labours, one can not have one without the other.

Love, and its labours.

Part1.
The pregnancy.

Summary and rating for this part: PG13, and how it came about.

Prologue


**Present**

Glorfindel rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders to try and ease the telltale ache building there. It had been a trying morning with the new recruits and now he was spending his short break in his office, hunched over his desk sewing colourful and sparkly…things - onto his daughter’s dress. Not to mention the sewing on of pink ribbons. Aye, he cared not if it was conceited to think such a thing, but he was most definitely a good, devoted father. He confirmed this thought with a stout nod of the head.

His tongue protruded from the corner of his mouth as he attempted to thread a fine pink thread through what seemed the incredibly small eye of a needle, missing each time.

“Damn it,” he muttered to himself as he missed the small opening yet again, and continued in his efforts

When finally succeeding, he grinned proudly and slouched back in his chair as he began to sew on the purple flower with pride. His shoulders and neck ached less in this position, though, when feeling an ache such as this, it brought one vivid memory to mind. A memory of another night where he had ached so, thought for other, less admirable reasons. He let his mind wander…


**Four years ago**


He groaned as he turned once again in his futile attempt to find a more comfortable position on the couch he had been delegated to sleep upon. He should not grumble, this he knew. It was his own fault that he now had a crick in his neck, not Erestor’s.

Now lying upon his back, with one arm across his middle and his other resting just above his head, he thought upon his mate. These past few months had been the most intense of all his long life.

Erestor, pregnant.

They had not planned it, they had been content in their ways. There was love, oh most defiantly love, of bountiful proportions. But they had been content to take their time, to enjoy each other and prolong the relationship’s freshness before settling into a routine, as would be the way of any bound couple.

So they had not even been living together when Erestor revealed the nature of his condition. When not working or on duty they would spend the majority of their days together, and at night…at night they would steal away to share the most passionate of love making. The most amazing and satisfying sex. The hottest, most earth shattering coupling either had ever known. And in the mornings they would wake, and for a brief time enjoy the more tender moments of their relationship, where eyes were cloudy and cheeks flushed with residue sleep and skin pressed warmly together, not yet in passion, but in a gentle embrace.

There were moments where Erestor would seem anything but stern, and would be so malleable and gentle to hold in his arms. Where they would lie in silence beside one another, and Erestor’s fingers would lazily follow the lines and curves of Glorfindel’s muscles, his earlobe or face - only for him to catch those fingers and kiss them in a most gloriously clichéd but no less lovely of ways, bringing forth a very private smile from the dark elf.

That had been their relationship, and it had been perfect in its slow arc. But now, now everything was so different. There was no less love between them, though at times it seemed that that love could become obscured by what had been thrust upon them.

He cringed when thinking of how he had responded to the news. He had not been particularly supportive. In fact, he would be the first to say that he had been a bit of a bastard, really.

~*~*~

Erestor’s fingers had flutteringly ghosted over his stomach, as he bit the corner of his lip and smiled in an expectant and nervous manner

“How could you be so selfish?!” he cried, closing his eyes and biting his tongue a moment later when the brief glint of pleasure in his eyes had deadened. Glorfindel had fumbled for apologetic words then, as Erestor’s hopeful smile had turned into a shocked, restrained downward shape. Erestor’s voice, when next he spoke, had been nothing but a whisper in its disappointment.

“I had dared hope you-you would perhaps be pleased.”

“Erestor, I…” he sighed. “I am sorry, ‘tis just such a shock, you know?”

“I know, Glorfindel. Believe me, I was most surprised myself upon hearing I was with child.” he replied in a quiet but now defiant voice.

“Erestor, you…you should have told me! How could you not tell me you had such a gift? We could have been more careful!”

“I did not know!” he implored, and Glorfindel felt alarmed as the councillor's chin actually trembled and his dark gaze shimmered in a way he had never seen before - with tears.

“Alright, alright." He held his hands out placatingly, before moving closer to gently rub Erestor's upper arms in a soothing manner. "Ahm…” He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his own hair. “We…we are having a baby, then.”

His somewhat negative tone had done its damage, and the dark elf's disappointment had an accusing quality to it. Erestor's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, just as his lips fought the urge to not turn downwards at the corners and he regarded Glorfindel now with a quiet, hurt look, and it was at that moment between them, that acute and stifling moment, that he knew that perhaps... perhaps Erestor had thought this a good thing, unplanned as it was. That the thought of having a child with the warrior had filled him with a feeling of rightness, joy even. And that having not shared this enthusiasm had perhaps implied that he found something lacking in their relationship, or with Erestor himself.

"You love children, Glorfindel." he said dejectedly.

"Aye, aye that I do, so…" He swallowed, trying his utmost best to sound as if he were warming to the notion or at least considering it positively.

"You just..." Erestor spoke quietly, almost timidly. He clenched his jaw and then gestured to himself. "You just...don't want one with me, do you?"

"Erestor, that is not...I mean, if I were to have a child with anyone I..." He sighed deeply and dropped the pretence, which was insultingly false, and ran his hands over his face. "...I just don't know how to do this - how to make it work."

“Well, know that I'm sorry." Erestor whispered after a stretched silence. "I honestly didn't know. It was never my intention to be an inconvenience.” His voice took on a strained quality and he departed quickly and, despite everything, with a dignity that was somewhat commendable.

Glorfindel had gone after him, of course, and had stood outside the advisor’s doors for an hour, quietly pleading with him to unlock them. Eventually he had given up the pointless endeavour and, taking the longer route, rounded the back of the house into the gardens and climbed his way up to Erestor’s balcony, which would have been romantic had the reason for his ascent been different. Erestor had barked at first, ordering him to leave. But after his hundredth apology, the advisor had allowed himself to be pulled close, and accepted his apologies as he rested his head against a strong shoulder. He had felt lucky that Erestor had forgiven his, despite the shocking, inexcusable reaction.

They had moved in together after that, for he did not wish to be away from Erestor while he was in such a condition. Erestor had put up a fight at first, arguing that he was no less capable of looking after himself, that he would not break, and that he did not wish Glorfindel to feel obligated to do such a thing but… but would rather he want it instead. It took much reassurance, and hours of slow lovemaking, to convince Erestor that, not only did he wish to live with him, but that he was convinced that they would have taken that step sooner or later.

He had enjoyed getting to know the smaller, less seen habits of Erestor’s that, before, went unnoticed. But now that they shared the same living space, those endearing, annoying and precious quirks were all he could see, and he loved and chuckled at each of them, just as Erestor did unto his.

Life had been going just fine, despite the sickness in the mornings and the drastic mood swings that, frankly, scared him to no end….despite that, life was good. Save for perhaps one aspect. He was frustrated, excruciatingly so.

To begin with, Erestor had been insatiable. Something had come over both of them. After having unpacked all personal items in their new living quarters, and realising that this was their home, that they would begin their family right there, when all this settled in, they had been unable to keep their hands off of one another. Duties went ignored, and thankfully understood and overlooked by their Lord and by Glorfindel’s men.

They spent days in bed, only ever leaving when it was strictly necessary. They would talk, heatedly or in soft murmurs. They would lie in contented silence as they gently touched one another. Or they would make love, or simply kiss. They would kiss slowly, lazily, or in a frenzy. They would always kiss.

This blissful period had gone on for some time, until suddenly it had come to an almost complete halt. He would try tactfully to broach the subject, but after a time he felt it perhaps unreasonable to pester Erestor for his attentions when in such a condition. This was not to say that he considered Erestor physically weak, far from it. But he was unable to ignore his innate need to continuously question and see to Erestor's comfort, to what was probably an annoying degree.

It was only when receiving a particular look, a warning look, that he would pull himself in check. It was a look that dared him to fluff one more damn pillow, or to call into question Erestor's masculinity and strength just one more time, as unintentional as it may be. It was only when receiving one of these looks, that he would force himself to calm down, and allow Erestor to fetch him own food and tend to himself and such.

That is not to say that there was no affection between them. They would still kiss, but nothing more. At first he had missed their slow joinings, unsure of why they had stopped to begin with. But now, now he was in need.

When they had become aware of Erestor's condition, he had been more than six weeks pregnant. Their following period of bliss and amazing sex had lasted for approximately one month, and then, nothing. With Erestor now four months pregnant, and having gone more than a month without an intimate touch and being silently, but continuously brushed off and denied, his more primal and base needs were stirring. Having gone from spending days making love, to nothing at all, had had its repercussions. So one night, just as they were settling into bed, he had begged.

~*~*~

“Please Erestor,” he husked into the advisor's ear as his hand slinked past the bump of their growing child and down to Erestor’s groin.

“Glorfindel I, ahm…” Had he not been so overwhelmed with carnal need, then mayhap he would have seen the uncertainty in his lover’s eyes.

“We have not made love in so long, I desire you, beloved. Tonight, I need you, I must have you.”

“I don’t know…the baby…” he whispered.

“Is that what has forced me into celibacy?” He grinned at hearing Erestor chuckle. “We will be careful, here….”

Carefully he had rolled onto his back, bringing Erestor with him so as to have Erestor unsurely hovering above him.

“Come on..” he coaxed, and nervously Erestor tucked back his loose hair behind his ears. “Ride me,” he said, his voice deep with want. “Just like you used to, I won’t be pressing on the baby this way.”

Erestor deliberated a while, biting his lips in thought, before conceding with a smile denoting a mixture of trepidation and excitement of his own. “Alright,” he whispered, and began to slide his robe from his shoulders. Another thing that had bothered Glorfindel, Erestor no longer slept naked.

“Yes, just like that,” he encouraged, and unconsciously wriggled his shoulders against the mattress, and grinned as Erestor seemed to grow more sure of himself and let his robe slip away.

It was then that Glorfindel realised just how long it had been since he had seen Erestor completely naked. Erestor was showing, the advisor’s robes had hidden much and it was now that Glorfindel could see the developing bump where his child grew. So strange was it to look at, when used to seeing Erestor as naught but his lithe and exceedingly slim lover. The bump itself was not big, but his form was different - had changed. It was more plump, more full. In a strange way it was alluring and perplexing at the same time.

He managed to hide his surprise however, and smiled with less hunger and more gentleness as Erestor seemed to take a moment to judge what it was his mate must think of his appearance- his hand unconsciously ghosting over his stomach as he did so. Suddenly realising how important his reaction would be, and noting how clearly significant this was to Erestor, Glorfindel quickly licked his lips and smiled as charmingly and encouragingly as he was able.

Erestor’s reaction had touched him; he had smiled brightly with relief, his hunched shoulders relaxing. Once again, he tucked his hair that had fallen forwards behind his ears, before reaching for the bedside table where the oil was kept.

He had never seen Erestor this way before. His lover was, yes, slender and beautiful to gaze upon, but he was also strong of mind and will, though not one to draw attention to himself, and of a quiet nature; he was not shy or usually coy. Not like now, for now Erestor seemed to him to be…almost hesitant in his ways, his voice softer and his actions and words less sharp and cutting. He seemed to be…in a way…delicate, and he did not dislike this new, tender side of his lover, but felt almost fearful of how to handle it. All of this was simply…so new to him.

He had never seen a pregnant male before, and as lovely as he always thought his mate, it was still…odd, to see up close. He bit the inside of his cheeks when seeing the sweet curve of his stomach brush the coverlet as he leaned forwards, for it was such a strange thing to see and it left him rather curious and amused. He had watched quietly, gently stroking the side of Erestor’s thighs as the advisor projected such a nervous coyness as he handled the small vial. He had hidden his amusement well, and still felt a great desire raging within, but despite this, he was unable to stifle a small chuckle as Erestor straddled him again, lacking this time the grace he had always projected before, his movements now being of a more careful, uncertain nature.

Hearing the small sound, Erestor had paused, his untroubled expression slowly leaving his face.

“Did you just…?”

“Oh no, Erestor...” he tried, as he shook his head and leaned up somewhat awkwardly on one arm, only to snort again as Erestor’s small, oval shaped bump nearly touched his own flat stomach, though he silenced when seeing his beloved’s hurt persona at his instinctive reaction.

“You… you are laughing at me.”

“Erestor, no I…it’s just…”

“No, you are. You are laughing at me.” His voice trembled as he clutched the small vial of oil to his chest and leaned back as Glorfindel leaned forwards.

“I knew it… I - I look horrible, don’t I?” he whispered, his cheeks flushed and his brows drawn sadly together.

Glorfindel’s eyes widened at the sudden implication, he shifted only slightly beneath Erestor so as to reach out a hand to tenderly cup his beloved’s cheek. But it was fruitless, for Erestor - as quickly as he was able - climbed off of Glorfindel and began to desperately search for his robe.

“Oh no, Erestor, sweetheart no…” he said softly as he reached to pull Erestor to him, his playful grin gone as he heard his beloved’s breath hitch. He was shocked to see tears threatening to dampen his lover’s cheeks. “Oh no I, I never…please, I am sorry …Erestor…” he spoke, in a surprised, soft voice.

“No,” Erestor whispered as he shook off his hand and quickly pulled his robe tightly around his form, before making for the bathroom.

Glorfindel rose from the bed, but the door had already been closed. He placed his hand on the light wood as he tried to think of anyway to rectify his accidentally hurting his beloved’s pride and feelings. He was both somewhat shocked and felt an ogre when hearing what sounding like a smothered hiccup coming from the bathroom, where Erestor sat inwardly berating himself for ever giving in to his desires and acting so emotionally.

“Erestor, you….you can not keep doing this, please, open the door. I am sorry.”

When no response came, he growled. “Damn!” he cursed loudly, pacing the room with one hand at his waist as his other rubbed his forehead in frustration.

After a while, a quiet voice drifted from the bathroom.

“Glorfindel?”

“Erestor?” he quickly replied, standing up straight from where he had slumped against the door.

“I am tired, and wish to go to bed. I would like you to please leave.”

“Wha…I…No!” he stammered.

“I am not sharing a bed with you tonight! Please just…go somewhere else!”

He was at a loss, finally he sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Fine, but these are my rooms as well as yours, and you have another thing coming if you think I am going to leave you alone this night…I will be in the den,” he finished resignedly.

Pulling a spare blanket from a cupboard, he sat himself on the divan in the den, his shoulders slumped, holding his head in his hands. He did not look up when hearing the door to the bathroom open, but lay down, cocking his elbows in the air as he rubbed his temples. However, when he heard the door separating the den from the bedroom creak as it was being closed, he spoke up.

“Nay, Erestor, leave it open. In case you are ill in the night again.”

Erestor hadn’t replied, but the door had stayed open.


Chapter one

That was a week ago now, and the couch Glorfindel slept upon had become increasingly uncomfortable. But what was far worse was that the divan he lay upon now was not the one in their den. Nay, it was a divan from one of the unfurnished guest rooms. He had not realised just how in need Erestor had been of his …approval, acceptance of a kind, or how worried he had been over his appearance to his lover. Now he knew why Erestor had taken to wearing a sleeping gown in bed, he knew now why he had shied away from sex. He had been self conscious, perhaps a little embarrassed, at how his body was changing. And what had he done? The one person his Erestor had trusted….he had laughed. ‘Ai, fool!’ he growled to the empty room.

The atmosphere between them had been frosty and awkward at best. Erestor had not yet forgiven his insensitivity, but neither had he lashed out. In fact he had done quite the opposite which was, in Glorfindel’s opinion, far worse. He had been silent, silent and unhappy. And he simply did not know how to make amends. He was, in fact, becoming worried that he had done some permanent damage when Erestor had asked for space, for him to sleep elsewhere.

He had, of course, refused, not wishing to leave Erestor in such a condition alone. Soon he began to realise that his presence was simply making things worse, that giving Erestor his space was letting him breathe, remember who he was, and realise that, hopefully, he missed his lover. The hardest was waiting though, waiting for Erestor to ask him to come back. For he could not invite himself back, he simply couldn’t.

So he gave Erestor his space, or so he let his lover think. He would hover outside of Erestor’s office at times, or watch him as he made his way to the dining hall. He found himself in a constant state of worry for Erestor’s well being, and for that of their child. He knew it underhanded, but he had access to a helpful few who would keep an inconspicuous eye on Erestor, and tell him of his progress and well being, for it was only at brief times during the day that he would speak with his lover.

Every night before he would retire, he would go to their rooms, knock upon the door - the fact that he needed to do so silently annoying him - and would be made to stand in the hall as Erestor would tell him of his day. All of this would be under the pretence of enquiring as to the well being of his child, but it was more than that. He would wait when they had done speaking, giving Erestor a chance to invite him in. But so far he had not and, in all seriousness, he was now beginning to panic.

~*~*~

One chief advisor sat behind his desk, alone in his office, lost amongst his thoughts as he drummed his fingers upon the desktop. The documents before him went ignored as a certain elf took precedence in his thoughts that eve. He missed him. He needed him.

It had been a stupid fight and, though he felt in the right, he could not help but flush when recalling how emotionally and even irrationally he had behaved. Yes, Glorfindel had been insensitive, he had been hurtful, he had acted foolishly, and he had.... he had acted as perhaps any other might have when seeing such an oddity as the warrior had. Had he been overly harsh? At the time he had thought sending him away had been just and deserving, and he had intended to take that time to come to grips with a few things. A few things such as the irreversible shift in his life, and not only the change of his physical form, but that of his heart. He felt it. He felt... life. All inside of him. And it was overwhelming.

The pulse inside of him, the beat, the thrum in his very centre, at times it would drown out all else. And when sitting perfectly still, in absolute silence, he could swear that he could distinguish a separate rhythm and breath from his own. At first it had frightened him, it had caught his breath and unsettled his balance. But when focusing, and forcing himself to accept and feel what was there, he had never felt so blessed or humble.

His child.

He came back to himself, and glanced to the balcony of the stately room; it was dark. Time to retire, he supposed, to a bed for two where only one would lie. Was it time to go to him? He had already forgiven him, he just.... he still felt, in a manner of words, vulnerable. But if anything, he mused, that surely was all the more reason to have him close, to have Glorfindel with him to share what he felt. For this precious gift was equally Glorfindel's as it was his.

He had just decided to return to his rooms to ponder this further, when suddenly he felt something. He gasped, and the papers he had been holding scattered to the floor as he placed one steadying hand on edge of his desk and the other to the focal point of his stomach. It was not pain, it was..... he had to find Glorfindel.

~*~*~

When he had been cast from their quarters, he had thought at the very least he could go back to his old rooms, as he had told Erestor he would, but he had been denied even the simple comfort of familiar settings. His rooms had been taken by another, and now, as they had a full house, he found himself in one of the spare rooms, not yet equipped with a bed or much else. He threw away his thin coverlet with frustration, he couldn’t get comfortable. He remembered that in his old rooms he had stashed away some of the softest quilts. Perhaps he could simply retrieve one? It was not too late at night, the new occupant of his old rooms might still be up, and hopefully in a charitable mood.

He made his way to his old rooms, and had to stop himself from simply letting himself in. Knocking on the door, he heard a shuffling from within, and raised his brows in surprise when the door opened.

“Berenil, you took my rooms?”

“Aye Captain, is there …something I can do for you?” the young soldier asked as he blinked sleepily.

It was then Glorfindel realised he had in fact disturbed the elf’s slumber, judging by the ruffled hair and loose sleeping pants he wore.

“Aye, ah…I am sorry to have woken you, ‘tis just that I was wondering if I could retrieve something I think I may have left here?”

“Of course,” Berenil replied as he stretched one arm above him with a yawn . “Help yourself Cap’n, I’ll just be in the bathroom.”

“Thank you, Berenil.”

Glorfindel looked about his old rooms and had to admit that the young soldier had, in the short time he had been living there, done a fine job in personalising them. Barely did they resemble how they once were, yet his linen closet was in the same place, of course. With a relived sigh he riffled through the closet, searching for a particularly thick quilt that he had favoured.

“Oh, Glorfindel,” came a voice from the bathroom. “In the bottom drawer of the wardrobe I think you will find a few of your old shirts. I had meant to return them to you…”

Curiously, Glorfindel opened the drawer, the quilt forgotten, and beamed as he pulled out one of his favourite tunics that he had thought misplaced or lost in the move of quarters, and an old, baggy shirt he had favoured to wear to bed on chilly nights.

“I had wondered where these had got to!”

Without a second thought and, for the first time in a while, with genuine smile, he pulled the less accommodating tunic he wore over his head, and was about to don the lighter, more comfortable shirt with which he had been reunited, but paused when hearing a rather incessant knock at the door. He glanced to the bathroom, thinking it not his place to answer, but leapt to the door when he heard a familiar voice outside.

“Glorfindel?” was the soft yet urgent call.

Glorfindel swung the door open and immediately smiled in astonished relief.

“Erestor, you came.” He frowned however when noting how Erestor clutched his stomach. He reached forth a hand with a question upon his lips, but was surprised as Erestor quickly clutched the offering hand and pressed it to over his subtle bump.

"Do you feel that?" he asked almost breathlessly.

"What do you mea - " His words were left unfinished at the quick intake of his breath. Beneath his palm, he felt something. His wide eyes quickly met those of the elf he had agonised over all these past nights, and found them alight with equal wonder. The advisor's head nodded vigorously, and he let out a strangled "oh" as he slowly sank to his knees before the Erestor, and splayed his fingers out over the small mound. He laughed when feeling the flutter again, and dared to unfasten just a few clasps to press just the tips of his fingers against the warm, bare flesh.

"Kicking?" he asked, looking up, and caught his breath when noting how dotingly the dark elf gazed down at him.

"Nay," he said softly, "but there is movement there, and it isn't me."

Again he came face to face with the beautifully shaped mound and, holding apart the small opening in the robe, he pressed a soft kiss to the warm skin. He looked up upon feeling the soft touch of his mate's hand against his cheek. When meeting the darkling's gaze, he swallowed hard, seeing the emotion there that needed no words for expression. He closed his eyes and leaned into the soft touch as a thumb grazed his fine cheekbone, and fingers threaded gently through his hair. Slowly he stood with words of undying love in his throat, and it seemed that his life would be once again his, but he was never given the chance to speak those words.

“Did you find what you were looking for, Glorfindel?”

Just then Berenil stepped from the bathroom, with chest bare, hair ruffled, and tying the laces to his sleeping pants.

Glorfindel looked back to Erestor when he heard him suck in a sharp breath. It was only when seeing his lover look accusingly from this anonymous, scantly dressed elf to himself, who was also inconveniently without a shirt, that it dawned on him what the picture they presented might suggest. His eyes widened, and he reached forwards to immediately reassure and gently hold Erestor still by the forearms, just as the advisor slowly began to back away.

In a moment he could see his life pulling apart. This was such a grievous misunderstanding. Erestor had already been in a fragile condition emotionally. Now, now those dark eyes seemed to draw further away from him, to dim as heartbreaking realisation hit him, as false and misleading as it was.

“Glorfindel what…how…I don’t understand..” he said with a hitching, disbelieving breath, trying his best to pull his arms free, and with tears shining in his eyes although refusing to yet fall. “How could you,” he whispered.

“Gods no, Erestor! Ai, this…this is not what it appears to be!”

“Let go…let go of me,” Erestor whispered, his voice sadly pathetic as he futilely struggled to pull away.

“No, Erestor, listen to me….”

“Is everything alright?” asked Berenil with a frown as he came towards the door.

Erestor turned his head away as if it hurt to look upon the one who had taken his beloved from him - as if to hide his humiliation at having been naive enough to have thought he still held possession over Glorfindel. Such shame that was so evident to Glorfindel that it tore at him from the inside.

Looking back over his shoulder, Glorfindel tried to deter Berenil from coming closer, not wishing to escalate the situation. “All is fine, Berenil, please…” At that moment, while his attention was diverted, Erestor, using what little strength remained to him, pulled free and somehow lost his footing.

“Erestor!”

Both Glorfindel and Berenil gasped and lunged forwards when they saw Erestor stumble, strike the wall behind him, and slide gracelessly to the ground.

“Erestor!” Glorfindel gasped. “Oh Erestor, are you alright?” he asked shakily, his hands trembling as he gently cupped Erestor’s stunned and now pale face.

“G-get away from me…” The fall had shaken him, clutching his stomach he tried to rise, but cried out as an unexpected pain shot through his ankle, and would have stumbled once more had it not been for Glorfindel‘s grip.

“I need to get you to the healing rooms, Erestor…” and with that Glorfindel tried to hoist him into his arms, but was batted away as Erestor finally submitted to allowing a few silent tears to escape.

“Erestor..” he pleaded, in a voice that was flat and devoid of strength at seeing Erestor so crumpled. As if weakness had taken him, his usual sureness was robbed of him. Seeing Erestor try in vain to turn away from them to stand, to flee from them with what little or no dignity he had at that moment, was too raw and out of place for words, though his efforts were proved pointless as Glorfindel pulled him into his arms even as he resisted - pushing the warrior away at arm’s length.

“Even…even though I sent you away, I…I had thought you still loved me,” Erestor managed to whisper in a strained voice, his face contorting as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Erestor, how could you think…please, just…you are hurt!”

Degraded was what he was, having fallen so gracelessly and now trying to stifle these damn, suffocating tears in front of Glorfindel and the one he believed to be his new lover, bed partner or dalliance. Oh how low he had brought Erestor, his proud and loving mate. Such shame he felt.

“I will tell the healers you are coming,” Berenil said, not knowing exactly what had happened, but having sense enough to know that his presence made the situation worse. Giving one last, worried glance to the crumpled form on the ground, he dashed down the hallway.

Again Glorfindel tried to pull Erestor to him, only to once more be pushed away.

“Shh, the halls are empty and you are too shaken to walk, just let me carry you,” Glorfindel tried gently, but was stubbornly pushed away.

“Erestor, think of the baby!”

That did it. When sure he would not be slapped across the face, Glorfindel gently pulled Erestor into his arms, helping him to stand and then looping his arms behind his back and knees.

Erestor had been silent, save for the occasional shuddering breath, on the way to the healing wing. Berenil had left when assured all would be well, so that now only Erestor and Elrond were in the wing. Glorfindel waited outside, as requested by Elrond. When the doors opened, Glorfindel stood straight and approached Elrond.

“Is he alright? And the baby?”

“They will be fine, Glorfindel, it is just a twisted ankle.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Glorfindel sighed, and moved to enter the rooms, but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Glorfindel, your private lives are naught to do with me, but whatever happened between the two of you to get him into such a state? Ai Glorfindel, for heaven’s sake, he is with child!” he hissed.

“You think I do not know that?!” Glorfindel replied heatedly. “I have tried to apologise, to get close, but he is so damn unpredictable and volatile!”

“He is carrying your child, he is allowed to be!” Elrond growled, but sighed a moment later when seeing the shame in the warrior’s eyes. He closed his lips tight in mid chastise. “I do not wish to argue or intrude, Glorfindel, but….and I know that you love him…”

“With all my heart,” he replied steadfastly, almost daring his lord to refute this.

“Then, my friend,” he sighed, and rested his hands upon the blond’s shoulders and spoke firmly, “show him.” And he was gone, returning, tired, to his own chambers and the comfort of his family.

Glorfindel watched his Lord depart, and stood in silence for a moment, his Lord’s words lying flatly in his mind. He entered the rooms, and saw Erestor sitting upon the side of the bed, looking miserable as he attempted to slip a house shoe onto his unbound foot.

“Let me do that.” Glorfindel swiftly fell to his knees, slipping it on. “I will carry you back to our rooms.”

“I can walk,” Erestor replied, with a purposeful lack of eye contact.

“Well you at least need my assistance in getting there.”

Unable to deny the help offered to him, Erestor grudgingly allowed Glorfindel to place a strong arm around his middle, supporting most of his weight as he limped. It was a long and quiet walk to their chambers, one full of trepidation and a frosty air of worry and betrayal. Upon reaching the doors, Glorfindel had naturally moved to walk across the threshold, but was stopped by a firm touch to his forearm.

Erestor limped into the room and, without looking the other in the eye, began to close the door.

“Erestor!” Glorfindel cried almost desperately, slamming his hand upon the door to stop it from closing on him completely, though he did not push. He could easily have forced his way in, but could at that moment only muster a pleading whisper.

“Please, don’t.” He shook his head, unaware that he did so, his gaze sad and pleading.

“Leave, Glorfindel.”

“B-but our home,” he implored in a broken voice. “Our family…”

Erestor looked him in the eye then, trying his best to harden and hold the warrior’s gaze and, as if in denial of his tears, said, “You threw that away.”

“No,” he shook his head, refusing to believe that it was as simple as that.

“Go, please…” Erestor implored, losing his own resolve as Glorfindel shook his head slowly yet desperately, looking at him so beseechingly

“Don’t do this, I…I..”

“Glorfindel!” Erestor attempted in a steadier voice as he closed his eyes.

“But I love you…” he whispered shakily, “I love you, it was all a mistake, you are making a mistake…”

“’tis your own doing…please, don’t!” Erestor pleaded as Glorfindel tried to pull him close, to hold and to kiss. With a final effort he pushed Glorfindel away, and it was when he nearly lost his footing once more that night that Glorfindel relented, not wanting to cause him any greater injury.

“You don’t know what…you have not even let me explain! Berenil has taken my rooms, I was just changing, and…”

“There is naught you can say, I will not believe any of your false words. Now leave me…go!” Erestor managed to shout, exhibiting some of the edge he had been known for before he fell pregnant.

Had it not been his previous insecurities that had caused their original distance, perhaps Erestor would have stood to listen to his explanation. But what he had seen had made up his mind for him, and all too quickly at that.

“But my child…what of our baby?”

Erestor sighed, and touched his stomach. He regarded Glorfindel once more through stinging, blurred vision.

“I would not deny our child his father, nor would I deny you access to your own flesh and blood. Though I have every right to deny you myself. Until the baby is born, you will leave me be..”

“Erestor, I can’t…” he implored, his voice failing him as he leaned into the small space where the door was held open. “I can not be without you.”

“You hurt me…” Erestor whispered, trying to scowl, but only a pitiful trembling of his chin could be seen. “I don’t think I shall ever forgive you…” Summoning his last ounce of strength and will, Erestor closed the door upon Glorfindel’s mortified expression.

“No, wait Erestor, no!”

The door closed, and Glorfindel was left standing silently in the hallway, stricken and numb, a shallow ache now making itself known deep from within as the beginnings of despair began to creep along the edges of his mind and helplessness invaded him. He contemplated banging on the door as his mind tried to process what had happened, what he had just lost, and he found himself at the same time both immobile and unable to accept it.

No.

No, Erestor had closed the last door on him, he would not let his life so easily collapse. Resolutely, he pushed back the anger and fear, and drew a deep breath as he stepped away from the door. Inside that room was everything - his mate, his child, his home. And he would not give that up for anything in this world, he would be deterred by nothing, not even Erestor.


**Present**

Glorfindel was startled out of his slouched position and daytime reverie by a rapping at his door, abruptly sitting up and knocking a small pot of ribbons and assortments alike over onto his desk and lap.

‘Damn it!”

Hastily he wiped at his lap, refusing to face any of his men covered in glitter, and bid entrance to the elf outside.

“Captain?” asked Berenil as he crooked his head into the room. “The recruits grow restless, can we be expecting your return any time soon?” Berenil stepped into the room, a wide grin crossing his lips as he spotted what had to be the famous dress lying across Glorfindel’s desk.

“Is that the fabled gown?”

“It is indeed,” Glorfindel replied absently as he continued to wipe himself down, yet to his distress only served to further coat himself in most becoming beads and sparkly…things.

“Oh it’s…it’s very nice.”

Glorfindel looked up at that, momentarily ceasing his sparkly fiasco.

“Very nice?” he replied with more than mild displeasure. “What do you mean - very nice? ‘tis wonderful! She will love it.”

“Oh, I do not doubt it,” Berenil quickly agreed, but could not help but grin at the picture before him. Glorfindel, mighty demon slayer, legend of old, Captain of Imladris…covered in glitter, holding a sewing needle and pink thread, and scowling at him for insulting or not adequately enough complimenting his design for his little girl.

Berenil laughed as Glorfindel held the dress up proudly for him to examine. He shook his head at the curious and slightly annoyed look the warrior shot him.

“Tell the men I will be with them in five minutes,” Glorfindel told him tartly.

“I’ll tell them ten.”

Seeing the Captain frown, he gestured to his sleeve, which was now attached to a purple flower which was, in turn, sewn onto the dress.

“Pink thread? ’tis most definitely your colour, Glorfindel.” He left the office grinning broadly, hearing his captain exclaim in frustration,

“Damn it!”

TBC