Cinderestor

Title: Cinderestor
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Beta: None
Chapter: 1/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes
Warnings: Slash (male elf loving male elf), murderous thoughts, non-consensual sex (rape)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summery: A dark!Cinderella inspired story featuring Erestor and Glorfindel.
A/N: I watch too much Disney. So sue me. Try reading this story to the song “Absence of Fear” by Jewel. The lyrics, I feel, are highly appropriate.

Erestor cracked his eyes open as the first light of dawn poured through the windows of the kitchen. He sat up stiffly, the cold stone of the fireplace making him sore. It never seemed to matter how hot the fire was, the stones were always cold, and they seemed to suck all the warmth from his body while he slept wrapped in his tattered, dirty blanket. He wiped at the cinders that had settled on his face during the night. He knew they left black marks across his skin, but he could care less. He was already filthy; a few more dirt smudges did not make so much difference.

He folded the blanket and put it in what he termed ‘his’ corner. There he stored all of his earthly possessions, in the little corner between the wall and the fireplace. His most precious items were hidden in that same corner, only they were under a loose stone that lifted up from the fireplace hearth. He had discovered the hiding place as a small child, and he still used it today. Otherwise he would have nothing left.

He stoked the fire so he could start breakfast. As the water was heating over the flames, he went out and fed the animals. Chickens, hogs, horses, cow. The same routine every morning. By the time he was done, the water was hot enough to make the porridge.

Quickly, he finished breakfast and loaded up the trays. He picked up the first tray and went to the master bedroom of the quaint little house. Once again, routine took over. He set the tray on the bedside table, opened the curtains, and took out the chamber pot all while the occupant of the room remained fast asleep. Erestor gazed down at the ellith sleeping in the large bed, and once again thought how easy it would be to pick up one of those soft, fluffy pillows and lay it over her face. And press down. And keep pressing. It would be so easy….he shook his head and continued his routine. He took the next tray to a smaller room and went through the same motions.

Erestor took the last tray and went to the next largest room in the house. He stopped at the door and shuddered as he hesitated. Maybe today he would be spared. Sometimes the occupant of this room remained completely asleep the entire time Erestor was there, Erestor just needed to be absolutely silent. He opened the door, only to immediately close it again as an object was flung forcefully at the door. He shuddered as he realized that this morning he would have no reprieve. Erestor cracked open the door once more. No more projectiles forthcoming, he entered the room and approached the bed.

He set the tray on the bedside table and went to open the curtains, only to be stopped by a vice grip on his wrist. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shivering breath.

“Morning, beautiful,” muttered a slurred voice from the bed.

“Good morning, Master Celairion,” Erestor whispered softly. “I trust you slept well?”

“Mmmmm…” the hand gripping Erestor pulled him forcefully onto the bed. The dark elf squeezed his eyes shut and tensed as a much larger body than his own rolled on top of him and pressed him down into the mattress. Rough hands rubbed up and down his body, strong legs pinned his legs to the bed. A tear made its way down his cheek as teeth sank into his neck, adding to an already extensive collection of bites and bruises he sported there. He hissed as already abused skin was torn once again. Maybe today, he could cut a leaf off the aloe plant in the foyer without anyone noticing…the juice from the leaves would help sooth the raw pain of the battered skin.

As his dirty pants were pried from his legs, Erestor thought about the rest of his routine for the day. Thinking about the comfort of his chores helped take his mind off of what was happening elsewhere. As pain ripped through him, he thought about doing laundry. Scrub, rinse. Scrub, rinse. Safe. Uncomplicated. Scrub, rinse.

Unsatisfied with the reactions he was pulling out of the elf beneath him, the larger elf became more violent. Erestor whimpered, putting up a token struggle to satisfy his master. The increased roughness made it impossible to take his mind off of what was happening just by thinking about his chores. The only image that could comfort him at times like these was the image of an elf he had once known as child. However, he no longer imagined the elf as an elfling, instead he saw the fierce warrior the elfling had become. A warrior with golden hair and gleaming sword. Someday, he fantasized, the handsome warrior would come to save him. He would strike down all those who had harmed Erestor, would take him into his arms and kiss him lovingly….

The body above him finally grunted and rolled over.

Erestor pulled himself out of the now soiled bed and shrugged into his tattered pants again. He would have to change the sheets in here today. He limped slightly as he went to open the curtains. As he picked up the chamber pot, the voice of his nightmares addressed him again.

“Naneth will be taking Glaweth and I to the market today. I want my horse saddled by the time we return, so I can leave for the courts as soon as I get back.”

“Yes, Master.”

Erestor scurried from the room as fast as he could. Today had been easy. At least he could walk, albeit a little painfully, as he left the room.

------------------------------------------------

The trio of mother, daughter, and son finally gone, Erestor went about doing the rest of the housework. He cleaned up the dishes from breakfast, after taking whatever leftovers there were and putting them in a bowl. He ate hungrily from the bowl, licking up every scrap he could get. He always ate fast. He never knew when he would be interrupted, or if he would be allowed to finish if he dawdled.

Done with that particular task, he went to the front yard to weed the flower garden before the heat of the day began to scorch the earth. As he was bent over scrabbling in the dirt, a throat cleared behind him. Erestor jumped a foot in the air as he was startled. He quickly stood, and without looking at the intruder, he bowed. It was always best to bow, as everyone he met was probably above his station.

He looked up timidly at the dark haired elf before him, a messenger of the House of the Golden flower by the insignia on his robes.

“An invitation,” the messenger stated as he handed over the rolled parchment to the pitiful elf in front of him. His lip curled in distain at Erestor’s appearance. “Please see that the head of the house receives it.”

“Of course, my lord,” Erestor said as he bowed his head.

The messenger left, and Erestor took the parchment into the house, carefully unrolling it. He knew how to read…or at least he knew enough to understand what the parchment said.

To The Head of the House of the Circling Raven,

All eligible ellith and ellon over the age of majority are invited to a masked ball to be held in honor of Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower and his induction as a full Lord of the Courts. Lord Glorfindel will also be searching for a suitable mate. Either gender will be accepted as possible candidates. The ball will be held in seven days time. Please respond with the number of people to be attending….

And the parchment read on.

Erestor rolled the invitation and quietly stared into space. He had once been tentative friends with the golden haired lord. That is, before his life became nothing more than a living hell. They had gone to school together for a short time, and Erestor clearly remembered the charismatic elfling that was the self-appointed protector of all those weaker than himself. Oh, how he remembered. The image of Glorfindel had comforted Erestor through some very dark times, this morning’s incident flashed across his mind. Would Glorfindel even remember him if he saw him today? Erestor looked at his image in the hallway mirror. No. Glorfindel would never recognize this pathetic excuse for an elf. He was a waif, a slave, a nothing. He had been ever since his father had died. He had been ever since his father’s second wife had taken over the household.

Placing the parchment on the entryway table, Erestor made his way into the kitchen to begin supper. The Mistress had demanded roast beef for supper, and in order for it to be done on time, he would have to start it now.

As he stood at the table slicing the beef, he started daydreaming. A warm embrace, the feeling of being absolutely safe, words of love whispered into his ear…a sharp pain in his finger.

He absently stuck his finger in his mouth as it began to bleed. He sighed. At least his Mistress had not caught him daydreaming, for the punishment would have been much worse than a nicked finger.

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

The lady of the house smiled in triumph as she read through the parchment. “It seems the Golden Lord has finally broken down and decided to take a mate!!” She regarded her two children as they lounged on sofas in the den. Erestor was in the process of serving drinks. “It will be a fight to the finish, my beautiful children. However, I believe that we have a more than fair chance at seducing the Lord of the Flower.”

“Overly confident as always, Mother,” drawled Celairion.

“No, my handsome son.” The Lady dropped down on an overstuffed chair and looked over the parchment again. “You and your sister are simply two of the most beautiful elves in the kingdom.”

“And we play dirty,” stated Glaweth, with a small, fake sounding giggle. Everything Glaweth said sounded fake, or at least Erestor thought so.

“If either of you can lay the Golden Lord before any other, we will be able to blackmail him into marrying you. Do you think you can accomplish this?”

“Of course. The blond twit has the brains of a sparrow. It will be child’s play to seduce him.”

“Only if you get to him before I do, my brother.”

Celairion nodded in acknowledgment.

Erestor sighed as he left the room to fetch dinner. He had to admit, the two young elves had a more than fair appearance. It had driven more than one Lord to distraction, and, in affect, had driven more than one lord to empty his pockets to keep Celairion and Glaweth quiet about their liaisons. As he returned to the den carrying a loaded tray, he realized someone had joined the party. He set the tray down and listened carefully as he started serving the meal. His step-mother’s informant from the House of the Golden Flower was currently gossiping with the Lady about his newest findings.

“…and he seems to prefer ellon to ellith,” said the elf as he took a cup of tea from Erestor.

“Hmmm….” mused the Lady. “It seems you have a better chance at the Lord than we had thought, my son.” Celairion smiled, Glaweth pouted. “What else?”

“He prefers his prospects quiet, yet well-spoken. He likes them to be chaste in public, yet fiery behind closed doors. He also prefers brunettes, small in stature.”

The Lady scowled as she looked at her blond-haired, robust son. Celairion raised an eyebrow. “You cannot blame *me* for my hair color or my size, mother.”

“I will blame you for whatever I like,” she snapped. As Erestor handed the Lady a plate of food, she grabbed his hair and pulled him down beside her. “If only he had your coloring, whelp,” she commented as she pulled at some of his greasy, raven tresses none too gently. She took the plate from Erestor’s hands and pushed him away. The four kept up a steady stream of dialog while Erestor finished serving. The darkling elf retreated to the kitchens as fast as he could, preferring the quiet crackle of the fire to the incessant chatter.

Erestor sat on one of the wooden chairs and stared out the window. Seeing a shooting star cross the heavens, he hastily made a wish.

*I wish that I could go to the ball. I wish that Glorfindel would choose me. I would be anything he wanted me to be. I would do anything he wanted me to do. Anything is better than here. Maybe…someday…he could even love me…as much as I love him…*