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Weakness And Discord.	By : fishyz Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3370 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Weakness And Discord.
- 1
Weakness And Discord.
I have many flaws I suppose, but I have one big weakness. It can be a young maiden, crushed by her first adolescent love, it can be a soldier, overwhelmed by his duty and loss, or it can be any sweet cheeked elfling with a scraped knee.

The thing about tears� well, tears you see, they really are my weakness. Not that I am in the habit of provoking such emotions, in fact I hope to be nothing alike, because tears, as I said - really are my ultimate weakness. And when they come from a most unexpected source, most unexpected, and also take into consideration that I am the cause, well then I am as remorseful and guilty as any one person can be.

In my futile defence, I had never really thought him susceptible to tears in the first place. A terrible thing to say, for sure. Perhaps I am as thoughtless as he has claimed in the past, though, I now rather wonder perhaps at his reasons behind those words. And I only ever claimed him to be so untouchable and incapable of - lets call it what it is - crying - a most basic, natural feeling and reaction - because I thought him perhaps� so unaffected by all, by everything, that I have unintentionally put him on an impossibly unfair and, unflattering pedestal.

But we judge, where we perhaps should not. In truth he has done nothing to me but dislike me. Am I so vain then, to think wrongly of one person because of their indifference? If I am honest, it is more then that, it is not so simple and neither of us so blameless. If I were brutally honest with myself, I think I would discover that, I am angry with him. Or with us.

I met him, and instantly liked him. To put it most simply, I saw him and I liked� everything. It�s one of those things that are unexplainable and just are. Some people just look good to you. You like how they talk, you like their mannerisms. Some people just smell right. It�s not completely understandable but it is what it is, it�s almost universal and usually completely unacknowledged but� some people just feel like home.

So that was what I first thought instinctively, even if I never did before form basic feelings into thought and then words. I never pursued this odd reaction upon our acquaintance. But you must understand he is so sarcastic! He�s so much more witty then I. He�s the intellectual, reflective sort, and with one look he seems to of summed up your character and purpose. Do you know how patronising and at the same time, intimidating that is? And this might be, I think, why I am so shocked now, to see him in a state of vulnerability. He is off guard and pinned by me, literally. He has no more scathing words which I suppose have been his good companion these years, he is trapped by me and has given way to frightened, angry tears.

He breathes raggedly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, pushing up against my own. His hot breath brushes across my lips as he glares defiantly up at me. His hair, partially loose from its plaits, lets free wispy strands that stick to one corner of his mouth and cling to a damp brow. With one last burst of energy, one last defiant effort, he tries to pull his wrists away from where they are pinned in my harsh grip either side of him in the grit and dust. And then they fall lax. He gives in, and I see the tears.

�Erestor?� I ask, afraid. And I suddenly wonder how this had escalated so much. When had this disagreement, that had moved from the hall to the deserted walk way, become so serious. When had I stopped playing along, stopped ignoring that first long ago innate reaction, and become so aggressive?

His head turns to the side as he closes his eyes, his wrists half heartedly writhing in my grip before settling again.

�Get off of me,� he whispers, and I feel horrid, crushed and horrid.

�I don� think I can,� and I mean it to. I can�t move, I�m too startled, and awed by what it happening.

He squeezes his closed lids tight and swallows hard, �please� he breaths.

My grip on him becomes gentle, barely there but he�s still unable to move. I lick my lips, �if I do you�ll run away.�

How did this start again? A witty jibe, nothing particularly hurtful. No, wait, it started with me. I couldn�t just leave him alone. He was perfectly content, as far as I know, to sit alone, with wine in hand, listening to the music. He wasn�t bothering anyone. Accept me. He didn�t look at me, probably didn�t even realise I was there, and he was bothering me. So I sat myself next to him.

I attempted friendly conversation which was barely acknowledged. And with every half hearted, half listening nod of his head, always looking away to the musicians, my ire had risen��..

�Do you mind?� He cut the warrior off mid sentence. The warrior had been asking after his well being and that was how the dark elf chose to dismiss him. Both sociably acceptable but incredibly rude.

�Forgive me for daring to speak to you,� he spat out as he stood, so unlike him to react so, but he had felt hurt. A thousand times before they had exchanged far worse, but he had been attempting genuine cordiality and had been abruptly dismissed, rejected.

�Suddenly I am worth passing pleasantries with?� He sneered up at the warrior.

Never before had the warrior touched him, in anyway, but to that remark he gripped his upper arm, his large hand nearly circling and slim bicep, and ungraciously hauled him to his feet. His wine had spilled and he had to check his footing so as not to stumble. A look of incredulity had covered his fair features, his eyes darting left and right in embarrassment as the gazes of others had been drawn to the sudden movement.

�What to do you think you are doing?� he hissed, attempting to pull his arm from the iron grip that held it but with no success.

�Do you delight in being so.. so�� he had been furious, he could not have explained the absolute fury he felt towards the dark eyed elf, words simply would not come, and despite still being held so, a condescending sneer touched to the councillor�s lips.

�Lost for words? There�s a shock.�

An inarticulate growl left the warrior�s throat, one so annoyed and menacing that the advisor�s eyes widened slightly, a look of actual unease and surprised crossing his features. Without another word from either, he then forcibly, with the bruising grip on his arm, escorted Erestor from the hall in an altogether unseemly and embarrassing manner. Those of close parties who had witnessed part of the exchange stood uncertainly, and a few made to follow, either worried for their friend Glorfindel, or uncertain as to why he would handle Erestor - who was, as far as many were concerned, quite polite and harmless - the way he had. A few meandered to the door when a voice carried over the general murmur of the room.

�Sit.� It was their Lord. �Worry not,� he spoke with kindly authority, looking to the door in which the two had departed, �just sit.� And after much intrigued whispering the gaiety had continued. Though not for the angered two.

�How dare you!� The advisor hissed when free from my warrior�s grip. He took two safe steps back from the opposing figure and unconsciously rubbed his arm. He glanced around them to check that the hall was indeed empty and continued. �Who do you think you are, just-�

�Who do you think you are!� Glorfindel cut in, �speaking to me like-�

�Like you deserve!� Erestor yelled and turned, walking from the hall and out into the night air.

This provoked another growl and hastily he followed. When Erestor heard his approach from behind he quickly turned and paused, surprised. Glorfindel closed that small gap between them. And was surprised himself when Erestor retreated to gain back that safe distance. An unfriendly smirk crossed the warrior�s lips.

�Afraid of me?�

�No,� Erestor spoke at first, then frowned, and bravely stepped forwards, facing the warrior who was a good three inches taller. �No.� he spoke louder, firmly.

Glorfindel bristled, and then taking a deep breath, sighed heavily and spoke through gritted teeth. �I was just making conversation..�

�I do not trust you and your idol conversation.�

�What?� Glorfindel asked in confusion.

�Never before have you had a genuine interest in me, what reason do I have to be completely compliant to your wasted smiles and pleasant talk?� When the warrior said nothing in return he continued in a shout, his eyes wide with frustration and expression �I don�t trust you!� He said this almost slowly, as if having to explain something that was obvious. �I don�t have anything to say to you and Valar help me, I don�t like you!�

Glorfindel had blanched, and it seemed Erestor gasped almost at his own words, but more so at the look or actual hurt and regret on the warrior�s face. The look was brief, and was soon replaced with a look of bitterness.

�Then we are at an agreement. Gods I�ve never known anyone as unapproachable-�

�No one else seems to feel thusly� Erestor pointed out

�So ungracious..� His voice grew low and his gaze cold.

�Again..�

�impolite, unsociable, graceless�� he stepped closer and was soon toe to toe with the advisor, looking down with a sneer. Erestor swallowed hard but did not move.

�I don�t care what you-�

�And so utterly unlovable,�

Had the words come out of my mouth? They had. A small gasp, and the advisor looked stunned, and then deeply saddened. He tilted up his chin defiantly and with his mouth set in a downwards arch, he ground out his reply in an unsteady voice.

�What is this?�

His last statement had left Glorfindel somewhat speechless himself. He blinked a few times and licked his lips. �What is what?�

�This!� Erestor growled. �From day one there has been this.. discord, this tension, and I know not why!�

Glorfindel was equally helpless to explain. He didn�t dislike Erestor, but the elf made him angry, caused such uncertainty in his own mind.

�I was never anything but civil to you!� Erestor continued.

�I know!� Glorfindel yelled back.

�I treated you the same as any other, I left you be!�

�Exactly!� Glorfindel yelled, and was shocked a moment later, not quite understanding his own words.

Erestor frowned, and passed the palm of his hand over his face. �I don�t understand,� he began, �how it got to this, but lets finish this now.�

Glorfindel was still trying to understand what it was he himself had just said, but looked up at this. �What do you mean.�

Erestor shook his head, laughing almost sadly, and rolled up the sleeves to his shirt. �Can�t believe I�m about to say or do this�but quite clearly words are not helping.� He seemed to take a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, �lets just battle this out physically,�

�What?!� Glorfindel guffawed, making Erestor glare in offence. �I�d kill you!�

�Most certainly,� Erestor spat back, �but I dare say I�d get a few hits in there first that would be well worth the effort!�

Glorfindel shook his head, �I�m not fighting you,� he chuckled, and tiredly, he turned to walk away, when a sudden tackle from behind sent him to the ground.

He landed with a thump, dust rising from the dirt, the wind nearly knocked out of him, and instantly they began to tussle.

�Erestor! Ere-oof!� An elbow, whether on purpose or by sheer luck connected with his stomach, and suddenly their grapple became two sided, and almost vicious.

A fist connected with the warrior�s jaw, and the advisor was bodily slammed to the ground, causing him to cry out. They continued this way for some time, Glorfindel�s teeth bared as he finally pinned the wild cat to the ground with his bulk, Erestor�s feet kicking out helplessly as he thrashed with all his strength.

�Stop it!� Glorfindel yelled, �STOP IT!� He exclaimed, slamming the dark elf�s wrists to the ground either side of his head, undoubtedly tearing the flesh across the advisor�s knuckles. �Just please, stop it��

And that was how they came to be now. Erestor breathing hard, utterly defeated, and Glorfindel panting hard above him, his golden locks mused and hanging over one muscular shoulder as his gaze changed from confused to sorrowfully surprised, when seeing the tears gathering in those dark eyes that looked away from him.

�Get off of me,� Erestor reiterated in a quivering whisper, attempting to move beneath the bulk pressing him down, but to no avail.

There was utter silence on the walkway but for the sound of ragged breathing and the distant sound of merry making. The quietness grew as the stars twinkled above, and their gazes locked. One dark and sad, the other, blue and almost frightened.

�I�m not unlovable.�

Glorfindel let out a harsh breath and released the wrists he had been holding. Shifting his weight onto his elbows, he gently cradled flushed, damp cheeks. With their legs still entwined, he gently touched their brows together.

�No, no. Not unlovable, Not unlovable.�

Erestor�s voice broke, �then why?�

�I - I�m sorry I don�t.. but you�re not-�

�Not unlovable?� He demanded in a whisper.

And this was where the arguments, the denied feeling the tension the confusion the unfriendly discord had led them to.

�Not unlovable, not unlovable,� without even realising what he was doing the warrior whispered this into Erestor�s ear, his lips then travelling and brushing against his cheeks, brow, eyelids as he repeated this.

�Not unlovable, loveable, love, love��

It was Erestor who reached, when their lips hovered so close, it was he who reached up and made that first contact, tentative as it was. Just a brush of the lips, before his stretched out neck relaxed and the back of his head again touched the hard ground.

Glorfindel followed, engaging Erestor in a deep, thorough kiss that was long over due. When finally parting, both needed air.

�I�ve never been kissed like that before,� Glorfindel breathed, and Erestor smiled a small sort of smile.

�Should have been like this from the beginning,� it was partly a scolding, which both luckily could find amusing, but he was also very serious. And as he spoke, his hands gently eased the warrior back down by the neck, his fingers brushing against a cool scalp as his knee bent, accommodating, welcoming the bulk above him, so as to be kissed as he deserved.

I�m so glad tears are my weakness. I may be easily baited, I might have been ignorant and unwise, and he too at that. But I am glad his tears were and probably always will be my weakness and that in that, love was finally able to find me.

Fin.
- 1
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Weakness And Discord.