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Twilight Tales - Stolen Moments	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4131 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Twilight Tales: Stolen Moments

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairings: Glorfindel/Erestor, Elrohir/Legolas (implied)

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters. They are the property of that esteemed master storyteller, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate.

Warning: Implied mpreg

Summary: Caught up in being a father, Erestor neglects Glorfindel once too often. An ‘out-take’ from Greenleaf & Imladris.

Author’s notes: Greetings! First of all, I know I said this would be a short one-part story but… suffice to say my muses decided otherwise.

Second, with the frequency with which AFF has gone down in recent times, I finally went and got an LJ wherein I will post updates whenever this site is inaccessible.

Third, I’ve posted a short Legolas/Elrohir story over there entitled “An Ounce of Kindness”, which isn’t archived on AFF because of its rating. If you wish, you can read it as well as the full explanation for the LJ at: http://www.livejournal.com/users/eresse21/

Chapter I

Artirion, Eldamar, lairë FA 256

The house was neither large nor elaborate in design. But it was stately and exuded a sense of muted nobility. No overbearing statuary or impressive stone columns graced either courtyard or entryway. No soaring second story rose above its slate roof, no sprawling gardens lay beyond its back entrance. It was an abode built for comfort and contentment but its beauty and elegance was due to its inhabitants' impeccable sense of taste and inborn restraint.

That was not surprising when one learned that it was home to the highly respected but reserved chief steward of the Lord of Artirion and his exalted mate, the erstwhile Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin, re-born Balrog-slayer and captain of legendary Imladris and presently of Artirion. What had surprised many and continued to baffle them was that said Balrog-slayer had chosen to remain in Lord Elrond's service rather than return to Tirion upon Túna and take up his position as a scion of his ancient and noble house.

But Glorfindel had never cared for the trappings of high position or the adulation that came in the wake of his illustrious career. Duty, responsibility and an implacable sense of honor had impelled him in times past to take over the rulership of the members of his house who had chosen exile in Middle-earth in the First Age. For those same reasons had he accepted re-birth and the second sojourn in the Hither Lands in service to Elrond of Rivendell.

But they were not the reasons he had chosen continued service in newly founded Artirion over power and privilege wielded from the venerable family seat in the elven city in the cleft of the Calacirya. His reason was not principle but emotion. His reason was Erestor.

Born in Middle-earth to parents of different elven tribes, bereft of their love and caring early in life, the chief steward would not have felt at ease amongst the Noldor of Tirion. Erestor would always and ever feel most at home and of use amongst his former fellow Elves of Imladris. And as Erestor had ensnared Glorfindel's heart long ago so had his desires dictated the golden Elda's choices when they came to Valinor together a quarter of a millennium ago.

Not that Glorfindel regretted foregoing his former life and status. He had found his greatest happiness in the arms of the auburn-haired counsellor who had once been his student and had since become his most trusted colleague. Not to belittle the miraculous gift the Valar had chosen to bestow upon them but, in Glorfindel's opinion, Erestor was and always would be his greatest blessing.

The apple of the fair-haired captain's eye presently puttered around the small but orderly garden behind the house. Here was no lush rose collection such as grew in the garden of Elrond's lady wife Celebrían or the exotic and utterly rare blooms that graced the expansive grounds of Finarfin in Tirion. There was no rhyme or reason for the choices of blossoms - daisies, violets, forget-me-nots, baby's breath, elanor from Maltaurë and sundry other lovely but quite common flowers. If a bloom found its way into the garden it was because either Erestor or Glorfindel favored it.

Erestor bent over the golden patch of elanor, loosening the soil around it before quenching the blossoms' thirst. As he straightened, he found himself caught in a powerful embrace. Powerful but impossibly tender at the same time. Lips pressed against the side of his neck, eliciting a shiver and a sigh from him. He turned his face and met Glorfindel's lips with his own. He was shifted around and pulled more tightly again the warrior's hard body. A suggestive hand on his hip communicated quite succinctly what Glorfindel desired of him.

It was a day of rest for both and invariably they chose to spend it at home together rather than take off in search of adventure or amusement. They did not have to; they found more than enough of both in each other's company, frequently enough in their conjugal bed.

Erestor gasped against Glorfindel's lips as his hips were tugged closer, bringing their groins into heated contact. There was definitely no mistaking what the fair-haired Elda intended for the rest of the afternoon.

“Ada?!” Papa?!

They broke apart as five little Elflings, none older than a score of years, came dashing around the house into the garden. Glorfindel sighed with resignation as Erestor slipped out of his arms and turned to greet the new arrivals. The one who had called out hurried into his arms and lifted an excited countenance up to him.

“What now, Galadon?” Erestor asked his only child.

“Can I swim in the river?” the little Elf implored. “'Tis horridly hot and Uncles Elladan and Elrohir have already given leave to the others.”

His parents had to smile at the exaggeration. Valinor's climate was never as unpleasant as Middle-earth's could be. Neither its long summers nor short winters (a recent introduction by the Valar for the sake of the Sindar of northern Middle-earth) could be remotely described as discomforting.

“Ah, and who will watch over you?” Glorfindel inquired, ruffling his son's hair fondly.

“I will,” called out a deep, familiar voice.

The two looked up and smiled in greeting as Elrohir approached, Celebrían at his side. The Lady of Artirion was as serenely exquisite as ever, her argent locks shining like spun silver in the sunlight. Elrohir's dark beauty was in striking contrast to hers yet in his features one saw a glimmer of his mother and that marked him as much her son as Elrond's.

Elrohir chuckled at the hopeful faces of the little ones about them. “You might as well give in,” he said. “Or live with long faces for the rest of the day. You know the others will not forsake Galadon should you deny him.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Aye, they are a loyal lot, aren't they,” he remarked. “Very well, ion”-son-“you may go. But-” he added when his son broke into delighted giggles, “-you must remain within sight at all times. The river may be calm in this season but it can be perilous if you are heedless.”

“I will, Ada,” Galadon promised. He hugged his golden father and snuck a kiss at his dark-haired parent before rushing off with the others. Elrohir hurried after them but Celebrían lingered a while. She had taken note of Erestor's anxious mien.

“Now, Erestor, there is no need to worry,” she gently admonished him. “'Tis not the first time they have swum in the river.”

“But 'twill be the first without my presence,” Erestor replied.

Not about to pass up an opportunity to be alone with his mate, a thing understandably lacking in recent years, Glorfindel placed a hand on his arm and subtly pulled him closer.

“Elrohir is more than capable of keeping them out of harm's way,” he said.

“Mayhap with two or three,” Erestor countered. “But five?” He shook his head. “I would rather help him than have regrets later.”

“Erestor-”

Glorfindel stared with some exasperation as his mate left. He pursed his lips with displeasure before remembering that Celebrían was still by his side. He looked at her apologetically.

“He takes his paternal duties quite seriously,” she gently murmured. At Glorfindel's unsmiling nod, she added: “Too seriously mayhap?”

The warrior let out a frustrated exhalation. “You would think we were still in Middle-earth the way he dotes on Galadon,” he said. “I confess I do not fully understand his over-protectiveness of our son.”

Celebrían slipped her arm around his and pulled him along. “Come, we might as well join them rather than have you brood over this,” she suggested. As they walked, she said: “As for Erestor's demeanor, I would venture to guess that it has much to do with the loss of his parents so soon in life.” At Glorfindel's curious glance, she added: “Do you not recall Elrond's own behavior when the twins were born?”

Glorfindel stared at her awhile then nodded. “Aye, he was so besotted with them, he nigh neglected you for months after.”

Celebrían chuckled. “Nay, he did not really neglect me,” she said. “Else I would have packed up the children and returned to the Golden Wood! But he was distracted by them to the point that he oft forgot his duties as husband to me. I would have taken exception to this but for my suspicion of the cause. Like Erestor, my dear lord had had to make do without the regard of his parents ere he reached his majority.” She sighed as she recalled her husband's straits. “Because he lacked parental love and guidance he gave as much of himself as was possible when he became a parent himself. He could not bear to see our children suffer as he had.”

Glorfindel looked at her in latent comprehension. “He tried to compensate for his loss by trying to keep your children from ever knowing his sorrow,” he stated.

“As Erestor I think is attempting to do with your son,” Celebrían finished for him. “But my husband was more fortunate in that he had Elros to console him during their formative years. Erestor had no close kin at all.”

Glorfindel blew his breath out. “I can understand such a need,” he said. “But I cannot do without my mate's attention indefinitely. How did you engage Elrond's?”

Celebrían shrugged daintily. “I simply waited,” she admitted. “I let him sate himself with their company.” She suddenly giggled. “And I made a long visit to Lórien to remind him of what he was neglecting.”

Glorfindel laughed, of a sudden remembering Elrond's fury and frustration when he began to miss his wife after a half-year drought of her loving. Yes, that had certainly cured the Imladrin lord of his husbandly negligence. When Arwen was born a century later, he had not forgotten the lesson taught him by his beloved lady and knew enough to balance his attention between his wife and his infant daughter.

The warrior sobered after a moment. “That will not work with Erestor,” he said a little sadly. “If you recall, I stayed in Formenos for an eight-month last year to avert a brewing feud between two mining guilds. I thought Erestor would miss me and yearn for my return soonest.” He laughed softly but bitterly, the sound making his companion glance at him with a frown. “It was nigh a week after my return before I finally bedded him. And do you know why? Because he chose to accompany Galadon on a camping trip with Elrohir and Legolas and their sons.” His mouth tightened at the painful memory. “He would not part from Galadon for four days though we had been apart for months!”

Celebrían bit her lip. She had not known that and she suspected neither had Elrohir nor Legolas. Both would have insisted that Erestor see to Glorfindel's needs rather than agree to his joining them on that trip.

“I am sorry, Glorfindel,” she murmured. “I did not realize how badly things have gone between you.” She patted his arm comfortingly. “Have you spoken to Erestor of your grievances?”

The captain nodded. “Many times.”

“And?”

Glorfindel snorted. “He apologizes, attempts to make amends for a day or two and then forgets what we discussed. Sweet Eru, I never thought I would say this, but had I known the price I would pay to have a child of our own, I would never have asked the Powers to grant our wish!” He turned unhappy eyes on a hushed Celebrían. “I love Galadon with all my heart and soul but there are times I yearn for the days when he was not here to take Erestor's love from me.”

“Glorfindel! Erestor loves you!” Celebrían exclaimed.

The warrior shook his head. “I am no longer so sure of that,” he said. When his lady started to protest, he added: “Even if he does, I know I am no longer first in his heart. I have not been since our son was born.”

She would have said more but they arrived at the river and it became imprudent to speak of such matters where young ears might hear them. With a sympathetic hug, she released Glorfindel's arm and gently urged him to go to Erestor. He did and at once slipped an arm around the latter's waist when he reached his side. She sighed as Erestor returned the gesture but in a cursory manner. As one who did so in instinctive response and not out of true desire. Glorfindel's expression was impassive but his eyes evinced his renewed disappointment.

Celebrían joined her son where Elrohir stood on the riverbank. He had shed his shirt and shoes in readiness should he be required to dive in and pluck a hapless Elfling from the water. But he was relaxed for he did not believe such a service would be needed. The children were strong swimmers and had learned their lessons almost from infancy onwards.

The Lady of Artirion smiled with loving regard at her grandchildren, whether by blood or affiliation. For she thought young Galadon as much her own grandchild as the sons and daughters of Elladan and Elrohir. She perused the younglings with pride and deep-seated affection. Her home was much the richer with these latest additions of babes.

She had to admit, it was wonderful to have little ones about once more. With Elladan's sons grown and off on their own - Elros soon to bind himself to Lindir and Elendir oft away exploring Valinor with his long-time maiden love - the home she shared with Elrond had seemed much too quiet. But now, it was alive with the noise and laughter of Elflings again and she would not have it otherwise.

There were Elrohir and Legolas' lively twenty-year-old twins, Eledhmîr and Mîranor, counterpoints in color and personality, yet as close to each other as their darkling father was to his own brother. Raven-haired Eledhmîr was the reserved one, the twin who preferred the quiet of his Imladrin grandfather's study and frequented the Elf-wrights' shops in his fascination with all things wrought whether they be of stone, metal or wood. Golden-haired Mîranor was the adventurer, the wily hunter, the extrovert who was as at home in the fastness of any forest as the sire he most resembled.

Their little sister Irilde, now all of fourteen years of age, was a luscious blend of her parents. Her hair was paler than Legolas' and her countenance as delicate, but she had Elrohir's sinuous lips and strong jaw and her eyes were a deep blue flecked with silver, a most astonishing feature in any Elf. Small wonder her Peredhel father doted on her when he could see his mate's incandescent beauty in her tiny face.

Her cousin was no less comely. Ereiniel was Elladan's daughter to a marked degree though Nimeithel had bequeathed her slender full-elven form to her daughter as she had to her sons. So alike was the little elleth to the aunt who had chosen a mortal fate that she had been similarly named. Her hair was as black as night, pointing up her ivory complexion, and her eyes were of a luminous violet hue; already many said she was Lúthien returned, a declaration that seldom pleased her parents. After all Lúthien had chosen to abide by the Doom of Men and the one who had been hailed as her equal in beauty and grace had done likewise. Ereiniel would not need to make such a choice - none of the Peredhil would do so any longer - but the memory of loss was ever present and none cared to add to it.

A minor altercation caught everyone's attention. Mîranor had mischievously pushed both his brother and Galadon off the banks ere either could dive in properly. A moment later the victims grabbed their would-be tormentor by his ankles and hauled him in as well. Celebrían and Elrohir shook their heads in mirth at the children's antics. She smiled fondly as a flash of red and gold bobbed a moment above the water before vanishing below in a feathery spray.

Spritely Galadon looked like a miniature version of his golden sire but for the emerald of his eyes and the reddish glint in his blond hair. He was bidding fair to be as gloriously handsome as Glorfindel though not as outgoing. For in personality he was Erestor's son - more reticent both in word and deed yet quite eloquent and resolute when he desired to impart or acquire something. Celebrían's smile faltered.

The dear child was at the center of the growing rift between his parents though not the cause. She wondered if and when Erestor would realize his error. Hopefully, not after Glorfindel's forbearance snapped. Once it came to that, it would be much more difficult to mend matters. Artirion's captain was not one to lose his patience or temper readily but when he did, few could withstand the heat of his displeasure. She was not all that sanguine that Erestor would once it was unleashed.

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

Glossary:

lairë - Quenya for summer

elleth - Elf-maid

To be continued…
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Twilight Tales - Stolen Moments