Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Mine	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places of Lord of the Rings/Tolkien. No money is being made. This is for personal enjoyment only.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15 – Fading Pages

Glorfindel was shocked to see Lastar within the holding cells. No one ever came here, especially when he was having a session with Astarion. Not even the guards were permitted to stay, something Glorfindel thought he should reconsider. But there had never been a need, since no one would come close to Astarion, fearing him and what he had become. Lastar had mentioned Erestor, and Glorfindel was instantly worried. “Come,” he demanded, taking Lastar roughly by the upper arm, and leading him towards the exit of the corridor. “You should not be here. What is the meaning of this?” Glorfindel reprimanded. He continued pushing the young elf through the hall until they were outside.
“I came here looking for you. There’s something urgent you should know. It has to do with Erestor.” As he spoke, he rushed his words so Glorfindel would not disappear back inside before he had time to talk. Luckily, the mention of Erestor made Glorfindel stop dead and he made no move to release Lastar’s arm.
“You mentioned Erestor already. What has happened to him? What do you know?” Glorfindel inquired pressingly.
Lastar brought himself to his full height and squared his shoulders, ready to defend the only elf he’d ever loved. “Oh, so now you show your concern for him, and here it might be too late.”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “Too late for what? I swear, Lastar, if you are toying with me–”
“I come on my own accord, but on behalf of Erestor. He is not well. He has not been well since coming back from Dol Guldur.”
“What is wrong? Is he still possessed?” Glorfindel inquired.
“What is wrong?” Lastar said with an accusatory tone. “Do you need to ask that question? Have you not looked at him lately? Oh, but you have been too busy with this monster rather than see the ruin you have caused. Erestor is not himself because of you, Glorfindel.”
“I have done nothing to him,” Glorfindel countered.
“My point exactly!” Lastar shouted, irritated with this elf that could level him to the ground with one good cleave. It was a risk he was willing to take. “Have you not looked up at his window as you pass in the morning? Every day, he leaves a candle burning in hopes that you will notice and come to him. And every morning, you walk right on by without a single glance.”
“I noticed the candle, but I did not think it was for me,” Glorfindel admitted.
“Who else would it be for?” Lastar said with frustration. “The point is not about the candle. The point is, Erestor waits for you every … single … day, and you never come to him. He thinks that at any moment you are going to see the truth, that Astarion is incurable, and that you will come back to him.”
“I tried talking to him. I tried to explain my situation, but he would not listen. He gave me an ultimatum instead of hearing me out and understanding the good I am trying to do here,” Glorfindel defended.
“That does not matter now,” Lastar interrupted. “What matters is that Erestor is, in a sense, fading. His soul dims a little bit more every day, and I cannot stand by watching this happen, and not say anything. I know you think you will just cure Astarion and then go back to Erestor as though nothing happened, but I think we both know that is not going to happened. Astarion might seem like he is improving, but you are a very long way from full recovery, if at all. In the meantime, Erestor’s heart holds out hope.”
“Then what do you want me to do about it? I tried talking to him, and he would rather I abandoned my duty to Astarion than to stand by my side, to be there at the end of a very long and trying day,” Glorfindel argued.
“It’s not just about healing Astarion, Glorfindel. It’s about the relationship the two of you had in Gondolin. It’s about unresolved feelings that might have resurfaced between you again. Erestor doesn’t know where that leaves him, but deep down, he knows that you loved Astarion first, and that is what slowly takes his inner light.” Lastar stopped and sighed, gearing himself towards saying the one thing he hoped would change the elf lord’s mind. He took a step closer to him and looked straight into the vivid blue eyes before him.
“You have to let him go, Glorfindel,” Lastar said easily. “Every day that you are here with Astarion, you are a little further away from Erestor, and it is slowly killing him. He told me himself that his heart holds out hope. He will fade from loneliness if you keep him waiting. Now, I don’t know what transpired between the two of you in Dol Guldur, and I don’t know what he said to you to make you think that he does not care, but I am here, as a concerned friend, to ask that you release Erestor from your hold, and save his life. If you are truly set on saving Astarion, then Erestor will not last the duration it will take to bring him back. You cannot have them both, Glorfindel. You are going to have to set one of them free.”
Glorfindel turned back towards the building, and Lastar thought he might leave. Glorfindel’s shoulders slumped slightly. He was in deep thought over this new information. With his back still turned to Lastar, he spoke. “I do love Erestor with all my heart, but the last thing I ever want to do it to hurt him. However, I’ve come too far to abandon Astarion at this point. Despite what you or anyone else might think, he has made great progress. If I leave him now, it will be like Gondolin all over again. If I lose the real Astarion, the darkness will swallow him and never give him back. I cannot let that happen for fear of what might come of it. The enemy is still very strong, and if I can damage them even in the slightest by healing Astarion, then that is what I must do. If Erestor cannot see that then . . .”
“Talk to him, Glorfindel. Let him go so that he can continue with his own healing. Otherwise, it will not be only Astarion that you abandoned and gave no closure to.”
Without speaking another word or looking back, Glorfindel went into the prisoner house, leaving Lastar to wonder if he got through to the elf lord or not.
* * *
Erestor stood in front of a shelf of books, staring at their black leather binding. Canyo kept checking on him from time to time, but he hadn’t moved since first finding him this way. Not knowing what else to do, Canyo called upon Lastar to come quickly. In an instant, the dark haired youth arrived, and now stood beside Canyo, examining the counselor from the end of the aisle.
“And you found him like this?” Lastar asked.
“He’s not moved an inch. He just stands there and stares at the books. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
Lastar had a very good idea of what was wrong. Glorfindel had taken his advice. “Tell me, Canyo, does a candle burn in the window this morning?”
“Now that you mention it, I believe not. Seems peculiar doesn’t it?” Canyo asked.
“Will you give us some privacy? I need to speak with Erestor alone,” Lastar requested. Canyo nodded and left.
Lastar slowly walked down the aisle until he stood at Erestor’s side. “This must be an interesting section. According to Canyo, you’ve been here all morning.”
Erestor didn’t answer right away. He continued to stare at the books, and Lastar almost gave up waiting when the counselor finally spoke. “There are so many books in Lord Elrond’s library, and I know each one intimately. I’ve read every one, some more times than others, some just a single time, but read each one I have. I know where each and every book is. I can tell you by aisle, by row, by section. I can tell you what color the binding is, whether it had gold or silver lettering on it, the year it was produced. These books have been my life for a very long time. They have always been my safety when the world outside got hectic, and I buried myself in their pages to avoid facing reality at times. But I was pulled out of this comfort, forced to face the world beyond the doors of the library. And it was sweet for a while. It was new. It was adventure. It was risk. And unlike any of these books, I had no idea how it would end. You see, Lastar, the problem was, I never thought it would end. I was given empty pages to fill, a story to grow and nurture, a … hero … a character to develop. That was my mistake. It was never my character to develop in the first place, and it all got away from me. I fell for the protagonist, like most readers do. I believed in him, trusted him to give me a happy ending. I put my faith, all of it, into this one character, only to find out that he was never the hero, or rather, he was never mine. And like every hero, there has to be someone important to him, someone he needs to rescue, someone who might even rescue him from time to time. I allowed myself to think this was me, and for a long time it was. Now, I’ve come to realize that I was just a disposable character in this story. The book was never mine to write; someone else saw to that, someone who needed rescuing more than I did. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think I ever really needed rescuing. I was fine with my life, happy to stay right here amongst my books and the dust and the mustiness. I feel as though I was used for the sake of someone else’s story, but now, I am lost. I don’t know what to do or where to turn. I look at these books, and … they are different somehow. Their words no longer fulfill me. They no longer entertain. I don’t know, Lastar, it’s as if I was a book and my pages were being erased. There is no other way to describe it.”
Lastar wrapped his arm around Erestor’s and led him to a bench. The counselor felt cold to the touch, and Lastar worried for him. Once they were seated, Lastar spoke. “Does any of this have to do with the unlit candle in your office window?”
“You noticed the candle?” Erestor said with desperate hope.
“Every day it sat in your window, flicking … until today.”
“The flame is gone. The light is done,” Erestor responded.
“You’re scaring me, Erestor. Please, tell me what has happened.”
Erestor shook his head as he looked around at the surrounding books, but Lastar touched his arm and gained his attention. “Alright,” Erestor finally said, and proceeded to tell him what happened.
* * *
Erestor told Lastar how he’d spent another morning watching from his window. He said he’d seen Glorfindel pass by, but this time he’d looked up. Erestor did not tell him how his heart leapt rapidly within his chest as their eyes met for the first time in weeks. He spoke of how he watched as the elf lord turned and came towards his door, but he did not mention how he flew down the stairs with hurried feet to meet his visitor.
The counselor told Lastar that he opened the door to find Glorfindel standing in his threshold, invited him in and offered him tea. He said nothing of the way Glorfindel gazed into his eyes, of how he’d seen a thousand stars dancing within their depths or how much he had missed their brilliance.
They had a seat in the foyer and made small talk before the conversation turned to the real reason for Glorfindel’s visit. Erestor said he sat silently and listened to Glorfindel’s account of Astarion’s progress. He didn’t tell Lastar how the hatred that pulsed in his veins made him want thrash Fin for speaking the name of that wretched creature in his own home.
Finally, Erestor told Lastar how Glorfindel came to him to tell him that he had to set Erestor free, that he had to finish what he’d started all those millennia ago in Gondolin, and that it was not fair to drag Erestor along on a journey that might not have an end. Erestor did not tell Lastar how his soul felt like it had been stripped of its flesh and set on fire as Glorfindel told him he was leaving, or of how Glorfindel kissed him one last time, apologizing as their lips parted, or how he slapped Glorfindel across his beautiful face, hoping to leave him with a memory of pain like the one he now felt in his heart. There were a lot of things that Erestor kept to himself, things that he would never tell anyone of how he’d lost his love the day the candle went out.
“I am empty, Lastar,” Erestor admitted. “Everything that I am has been depleted. I’m an empty shell, and I do not think I can go on. The books, they give me no harbor as they once did. I cannot go back to the way I once was. Not even the library brings me comfort or safety from what I fear awaits me.”
“What are you saying, Erestor, that you will fade now that Glorfindel has left you? Is this not a selfish decision?”
Erestor turned on Lastar, narrowing his eyes. “What else can I do?” he said through clenched teeth. “He had my heart. He had my soul.”
“And he gave them back. You just need time to heal, and you need someone to help you. Let me be there for you. Let me in, Erestor, if as nothing else then as a friend. I will not let you suffer. I will not let you fade. You are still needed here. I still need you. I’ve helped you before. Was it not I who vanquished the blackness on your heart? I healed you then, I can heal you now if you’ll just allow it.”
“Why? Why do you care?” Erestor asked.
“I just do. I don’t have any other explanation. I have always cared.” Lastar cupped Erestor’s face and searched his eyes. “When everything else seems like it is spinning out of control, let me be your anchor.”
“It is true, you have always been there, even when I cast you out. And here you are again.” Erestor looked away, shaking his head. “I’ve been a horrible friend to you. I’ve yelled, I’ve turned you away. And yet, you are by my side once more.”
“As I said, I will always be there for you.”
“Thank you, dearest Lastar, thank you.”
* * *
Weeks passed and Erestor was having an awful time of it. Everywhere he went, everything he saw or touched or smelled reminded him of Glorfindel. He was at his wits end. There was nowhere to go that he could escape from the ghosts of his former lover. He’d made sure he was scarce when he knew Glorfindel would be out and about, locking himself away inside the library or in his home or office. Erestor felt like a prisoner to his own life, and Glorfindel was his warden. He wondered that it was not much different than the life of the real prisoner, except that Astarion had Glorfindel and possibly his love. The thought sickened him to the point that he could not eat or sleep. His friends, Elladan and Elrohir visited him often, always trying to find ways to cheer him up or take his mind off his troubles, but it was no use. Nothing could stop his thoughts from wandering, especially in the darkest hours of the night. It was during these times when Erestor would wander the city, looking for a place to disappear and finding none. Oh how tempting it would be to give in to the desolation and fade from loneliness. If it weren’t for Lastar’s friendship, he might have done just that. Lastar would not have it, and did anything and everything within his power to keep the counselor on the bright side of the light, and not snuff out like a candle.
Erestor was within the library one day when Canyo came looking for him. He’d had a bit of exciting news to share about finally deciphering some ancient dwarfish language that he’d been working on for weeks. He thought it might help to enliven Erestor a bit, at least he could try.
The counselor was impressed with his apprentice’s advancement, but he failed to get as excited as his assistant. Canyo looked at him with pity and concern, and Erestor hated it, hated Glorfindel for putting him in this predicament, hated the Witch-king for handing Astarion back to the elf he belonged with.
“Erestor, you do not look well today,” Canyo acknowledged.
“Just today?” Erestor asked with an edge to his voice. “I must be slipping. I’ll try harder from here on out.”
Canyo started to leave, but he stopped himself and decided to confront the irritable counselor. “I know this has been difficult for you–”
“Difficult is an understatement.” Erestor interrupted.
“Well, I can’t help but notice your decline, and as your assistant, I feel it is my duty to tell you when I think you are about to go off the edge of a cliff.”
Slightly shocked by Canyo’s forwardness, Erestor turned his attention onto the youth. “I’m beyond the cliff’s edge. I’m tumbling down a rocky jagged slope in which I cannot hit the bottom soon enough.”
“What you need is to get away from all of this for a while. You need to go somewhere and let yourself begin healing so it will be easier to deal with. Go somewhere unfamiliar, make new memories, strengthen and come back ready to fight your demons.”
“Easier said than done, Canyo,” Erestor said with attitude. “You seem to be an expert all of a sudden. Tell me, where shall I go? Perhaps the treacherous forests of Mirkwood might be a diversion. Or I could wander under the mysterious boughs of Fangorn, and hope an Ent mistakes me for an orc. Better yet, why don’t I just run straight into a troop of the foul creatures and let things come to pass naturally.” Perhaps then he might be worthy of Glorfindel’s affection again, he said to himself as an afterthought.
Unaffected by Erestor’s arrogant response, Canyo moved around behind him. His words sounded muffled at first, but then they cleared up and sounded nothing like Canyo’s voice. Erestor froze. “It is building within you, the hatred upon your heart and soul. That kind of power could prove to be quite dangerous for some, or an advantage to others.”
Erestor cocked his head to one side and listened suspiciously. “What did you say to me?” It sounded familiar.
“You are wasting your energy on this. Redirect it and use it to your benefit.”
“Redirect it how?”
“Only you know where it could lead you, Librarian.” The words came out in an echo and the name sent a chill running through Erestor’s spine.
He closed his eyes tight to clear his sight and his thoughts. When he opened them, Canyo was watching him as if confused by Erestor’s actions. “Are you alright, Counselor? You seemed to black out for a moment. You did not answer me.”
Confused, Erestor recovered quickly and feigned a smile. “I thought you called me … never mind. Now, what were you saying?”
“I said that I thought you had been cooped up in the library for far too long, and perhaps a stroll in the fresh air might do you some good.”
Maybe Erestor misunderstood his assistant. He’d said library, not librarian. That was a term that the Nazgûl used when speaking to him, and he’d somehow confused the two. He tried to justify the moment, but something niggled the back of his thoughts.
Canyo smiled, ignoring the strange moment. Perhaps it was only strange to Erestor. “Well, it really is none of my business, now is it? But just so you know, if you take the notion, I will be glad to see to things here for a while. I’ve got a handle on the library and all the tasks that Lord Elrond sends our way.”
“Extra work on your part won’t be necessary. I have no plans to go anywhere, but thank you, Canyo.” Erestor said. He turned and walked away from his assistant, slightly abashed from the peculiar exchange. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him. It seemed to happen a lot lately.
* * *
The word ‘Librarian’ kept running through Erestor’s head. Where had that come from? Why was it haunting him? ‘Redirect the hatred’, it said. How? Erestor wondered.
He laid down on his cold bed and stared up at the ceiling. Slowly his eyes closed, though he wished to stay awake. He hadn’t slept in many days, not uncommon, but even the elves needed a time of reprieve every now and then, and Erestor was pushing his limits. Truth was, he was afraid to sleep, worried that the nightmares would return. The vision he’d seen in the Palantír came to him often, of destruction and death, black smoke and bitterly pungent air that stung his eyes and burned his nose. And he was king of this desolate land, and the orcs were his bootlicking cohorts. Power was in his cold hands. Vengeance was a way of life. It was all that he thought of, but patience kept him in check. He would get his revenge. The Seeing Stone had showed him as much.
Erestor woke, gasping for air, sweat soaking his pillow. He cursed himself for allowing sleep to take over. The nightmares would not cease except when he was awake. He got up and decided to walk the city again, as was his habit. There wasn’t a soul around; it was usually abandoned at this hour. Where to go tonight, The Hall of Fire? No, too many ghostly memories. The gardens? He’d been there so many times, it was becoming repetitious and dull. He’d not dare go towards the training grounds where Glorfindel’s residence was close to, or in the direction of the holding cells. There was nothing on that side of the city anyways, except for the secret passage that led out of the protective valley. Instead, he crossed a bridge and took an old beaten path that led towards one of the tallest waterfalls in the city. Erestor hadn’t been there since his youth as a soldier. After a hard day of training, he enjoyed coming to the waters to heal his cuts and bruises. The mist from the falls had a soothing affect, and he would stand naked and let the water coat his skin until he was drenched. Perhaps he would do that again. It couldn’t hurt, anyways. Anything to get the remnants of the nightmare out of his conscious thoughts.
He was not surprised to find that he was not the only one who knew about this hollowed out spot behind the waterfall, but he was taken off guard at the sight of who was here now. Erestor halted and hid behind a rock that jetted out beside the entrance. The moon was at its highest, so full and bright that it almost seemed like day. The cascading water looked like liquid silver tumbling down endlessly. It completely hid the alcove behind it, making this a very secretive place, but not so elusive that no one else knew about it. However, finding someone practicing the art of healing as Erestor once had, was somewhat of a shock. Lastar.
Erestor had always thought he was beautiful, with light alabaster skin, flawlessly smooth, the lithe elvish body of a youth who had not practiced in the art of war, yet still masculine and lightly muscled, and touchable, silky, ebony hair that just reached the center of his back. Erestor knew he should not look, but it was truly a sight to behold. The light of the moon illuminated the water, and it gleamed off of Lastar’s naked body. He shined like a jewel from head to toe, his arms stretched over his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. His face was upturned, eyes closed, as he enjoyed the coolness of the water’s mist settling over his desirable form. Erestor actually felt himself stir, and berated himself for it. He should not be here, watching this lovely ellon as he reveled in a moment of private solitude. Yet, Erestor found he could not look away. Long had it been since he’d felt another’s touch or seen another vulnerable in his flesh. Lastar really was gorgeous, and if it hadn’t been for Glor–
He quickly snuffed the thought of the elf lord, probably coddling Astarion as the vision flitted across his mind. Could he not have one enjoyable trice without thinking of … him? The moment slipped away quickly, and Erestor started to move away from his hiding spot, but his foot kicked a loosened rock, and the sound echoed within the alcove. He heard Lastar gasp and call out, “Who’s there?”
Erestor winced, ashamed to have been gawking. He tried to escape without discovery, but Lastar called again. “I know someone is there.”
With no other alternative, Erestor swallowed hard and called back, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s alright. It’s just me,” he answered, eyes scrunched shut in embarrassment.
“Erestor?” Lastar called back.
Erestor stuck his arm out from behind the rock and waved a hand in the air. “I did not mean to intrude. I was up and I was looking for somewhere to go, which led me here and I was just coming here to think and … I … I … oh ballocks. I’m leaving now.”
As he was trying to explain his sudden appearance, he hadn’t noticed Lastar had moved and was now standing at the alcove entrance. “I don’t mind, you know,” he said in a sultry voice.
Shocked to find Lastar so close, Erestor’s eyes flew open, and out of reflex, quickly scanned the dark haired youth from head to toe and back up. He could feel his skin break into a sweat, or was that the mist from the falls.
“Is everything alright, Erestor?” Lastar asked.
Erestor wanted to run, but he couldn’t now. Instead, he smiled as though nothing was wrong and planted his vision on Lastar’s face. “Everything is fine.”
“If everything was fine, you would not be here,” Lastar said. He could tell by Erestor’s squirming that the counselor was skittish. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Just a tad.”
“I really don’t mind. After all, it’s only flesh.” Lastar’s fingers touched Erestor’s arm.
“I … I had no idea … and I was unprepared,” Erestor stammered. Damn his eyes. They couldn’t help but travel down and back up quickly.
Lastar smiled infectiously, taking joy in Erestor’s state of discomfort. “I’ll spare you any more embarrassment,” he said as he turned back to where his clothes lay upon a rock. “Well, come in here before someone suspects you are spying on me.”
Erestor looked over his shoulder and up the path he had taken. It would be unlikely that anyone else would be here, but he still needed to make sure.
“Why are you so conscious anyways? I think there are quite a few who would be thrilled to see you have moved on,” Lastar said as he slipped into his tan trousers.
“They might be happy, but that’s really up to me now, isn’t it?”
Lastar, barefoot and shirtless, strode over to Erestor. “Takes two to be happy.” His fingers played with the rope belt tied at Erestor’s waist.
Erestor reined in his urges and gave a stern look. “What are you doing here, anyways?”
“Don’t you remember? You told me about this place once, and about the healing mist. I thought I would give it a try. You were right. It is very invigorating.” Lastar gave him a questioning look. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Erestor turned his eyes to the ground and shook his head. “I try to avoid it as much as possible.”
“The nighttime tends to haunt us, doesn’t it?”
“More than you know,” Erestor whispered. He looked up and fronted a smile for his friend. “Well, I suppose I should go–”
“No, please. I wouldn’t mind some company, if you are up for it,” Lastar suggested.
“I don’t know. It’s awfully late and–”
“I’ve a flask in my bag,” Lastar offered. “Miruvor, in fact.”
Erestor’s eyebrows shot up. “Miruvor? That’s a rare treat. How did you come about to have any? The only stock I know of is locked away in Elrond’s private chambers.”
Lastar smiled deviously. “I can be persuasive when I need to be.”
Erestor’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish, finding nothing to add. Lastar laughed. “Relax, Counselor. It was a gift from Lord Elrond … for saving your hide actually. I carry it with me just in case.”
“In case of what?” Erestor wondered aloud.
“Oh … an occasion such as this.” Lastar cocked his head to the side, signaling for Erestor to follow. They disappeared behind the watery screen, and Lastar went to his pack to retrieve a silver flask wrapped in red leather. He pulled the cork out and handed it to Erestor.
Erestor looked at the flask, and then to Lastar, who gestured for him to drink. He raised the flattened container to his lips and took a small sip. One did not take in too much Miruvor. I could be quite a potent mead, used to help revitalize a tired soul, and Erestor’s soul was exhausted. The sweet warmth of the drink traveled luxuriously down his throat, purled in his stomach, and made him come alive once again. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Elrond for a little bit of the stuff himself. As tired as he was lately, mentally and physically, this was just the boost he needed.
He handed the flask back to Lastar, who took it and sipped. “Ah, the Cordial of Imladris,” Lastar said smiling. “It carries the power to grant vigor and strength.”
“Refreshing,” Erestor added.
They each took another sip and Lastar studied Erestor a moment before speaking. “More nightmares?”
Erestor brought the flask back to his lips, nodding before he drank again. He knew three sips were too many, but at this point he really didn’t care. Seeing Lastar in the flesh had awakened something inside him, and having him here, still half naked, was a powerful temptation, but one he resisted.
“Do you want to tell me about it, if it might help you?” Lastar offered.
Erestor slowly lowered the flask, handing it back to Lastar, and breathed long and deep. “It’s more of the same, like the visions I told you about.” His eyes came up to meet Lastar’s. “Do you think it is still inside me, the dark serpent?”
Lastar shrugged. “I don’t know. To be honest, I’m not sure how I helped chase it away the first time. Something just … overcame me, and I knew I had to do something. It wasn’t you, back in Dol Guldur. When you came out of that broken tower, it wasn’t you.”
“Is it me now?” Erestor asked, desperation in his voice.
Lastar moved fluidly and came to stand before Erestor. He cupped the side of the counselor’s face with his hand, and gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. “It is you, but you are changed. It’s not that it’s a bad thing, but you seem … lonely, for loss of a better word.”
For the first time, Erestor admitted his feelings aloud. “I am lonely, and it is the right word. Perhaps the Nazgûl still have some hold over my unconscious thoughts, and that is why they come to me in dreams, preying on me while I’m weak. They are trying to tempt me.”
“And you fear you will give in to them?” Lastar asked, as the tips of his fingers traveled along Erestor’s straight jaw.
“I am not easily persuaded,” Erestor said, but there was the slightest waver in his voice.
“Yes,” Lastar smiled, “I have come to that realization, for I have tried many times to no avail. Of course, you were unattainable then.”
“Lastar,” Erestor whispered, closing his eyes. “I … I really shouldn’t–” His words were cut off by Lastar’s slow sweet kiss, lips upon lips, steadily holding together in such a way that slowly warmed each other. It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but the first time that Erestor allowed himself to enjoy it.
Lastar was being very careful, and not wanting to chase the counselor away, he ended the kiss. His eyes met Erestor’s for a brief moment before they looked away towards the gleaming water of the falls, a reminder that they were alone. When he turned back to Erestor, the look upon his face said that the counselor had come to his senses yet again. Just like every time that Lastar tried to persuade him, resistance won out again. Lastar feigned a smile, sadness in his eyes. “Can’t blame me for trying. I thought, maybe now … now that it was just you–”
“I’m sorry, Lastar. You are truly beautiful, and I find that I am attracted to you, but … my heart–”
“Please, say no more,” Lastar said as a huffed laugh. “We are still friends first and foremost. That’s what matters most.”
Erestor cocked his head to the side and reached for the single ebony braid that hung at Lastar’s temple. He tried to think of something to say, something that would make the moment better. Nothing came to mind, and he let the braid slip from his fingertips. With that, Erestor turned to leave the alcove. He made his way up the beaten path, but he stopped and looked over his shoulder, taking one more glance at the waterfall. It still amazed Erestor how nature kept going as if there were no problems in the world. Birds did not stop singing because war broke out. Flowers did not stop blooming because death and destruction was upon someone’s doorstep. This waterfall would continue to turn, even if all the elves ceased to exist. Erestor himself would live yet another day, even if Glorfindel was gone from his life. So why was he letting himself become so absorbed in sorrow? Why did he feel he could not allow himself to feel joy again? Behind this cascade of brilliant moonlit water was someone who he knew loved him, who had pined for him for a long time, who was not afraid to take a chance. It was obvious to Erestor that he was not completely numb. Seeing Lastar’s nakedness, his gorgeous body, had stirred his manhood. He couldn’t say he was moved in any other way. Perhaps it was too soon for that, but he could hope it might turn into something, couldn’t he?
‘Take him,’ said a voice from inside himself, but Erestor was scared, afraid that he might want Lastar for the wrong reasons, especially after knowing how strongly Lastar felt for him.
Erestor found his feet carrying him back to the alcove, whether his mind wanted to or not. Like a magnet, he was being carried by some unseen force. He looked around the rock, finding Lastar putting the flask of Miruvor back in his bag. He was still shirtless, wearing only his pants, bending down as he packed away his things.
“I will not let Glorfindel come between me and my thoughts or needs,” Erestor said to himself. “He made his choice when he cast me aside. I must move on.”
He moved stealthily towards Lastar, and stopped only inches away. Lastar stood, back still turned, but stiffened as he obviously discovered he was not alone. He did not move an inch, waiting for Erestor to make the first move. Lastar had always acted first. Perhaps he was telling Erestor it was his turn. The counselor brought his hands up to lay them upon Lastar’s shoulders, but he stopped, palms hovering just above the young ellon’s silky skin, so close he could feel the heat radiating out. He knew Lastar wanted him. That was not what stopped him. It was the fact that he was about to make a decision that would make it final between him and Glorfindel … that they were in fact no more.
“You know my heart is too shattered to give to you,” he said to Lastar.
“If it is only a small sliver that you offer, then I would cherish it, and treat you as you were meant to be treated, with compassion and care, respect and love, for I have always wanted this.”
“I’ve always said that if things were different . . . Well, now they are. I don’t want to be lonely anymore, but I don’t want to hurt you either,” Erestor admitted.
“I don’t believe you could hurt me. And if I can only have you in this one moment, then it will last me an eternity,” Lastar said as he turned to face Erestor. “It is your choice, for you know how I feel.”
Erestor knew he could not think too long about what he was doing. He could feel himself start to deny his needs, and squashed it by taking Lastar by the arms and pulling him forward. He searched Lastar’s eyes, finding love that had always been there, and wondered what could be seen in his own eyes, for he knew it was not love. He couldn’t look into their depths for too long or he would stop himself. The only thing left to do was to kiss Lastar and break the contact of their stare. Erestor’s hand contoured the back of Lastar’s head, and then he was kissing the young elf with hunger. This time it was not kind or sweet. It was lust. It was desire. And it felt magnificent.
Lastar’s hands had found their way inside Erestor’s robes where their coolness was a shock to the counselor’s warm skin. He made quick work of the material, shedding the layers until they lay in a heap at Erestor’s feet.
Erestor’s fingers fumbled with the laces of Lastar’s trousers. Once loosened, he pushed them down, grabbed Lastar’s taut arse and pulled him against his own naked body. No time to think about what he was doing or he’d stop, which was why he stopped Lastar from getting on his knees. Lastar looked up at him in confusion. “Not like that. Let me take you … here … in the mist.”
Lastar turned around, his back towards the counselor, and Erestor pushed him against a moss-covered wall. His hand traveled along Lastar’s hip until he had a hold of the younger elf’s cock. His own was painfully hard, needing to be sheathed. Lastar assumed such a position, leaning forward slightly with his hands on the wall. He was just the right height, Erestor thought to himself. It all happened so quickly, and Erestor found himself pounding Lastar against the wall, thrusting deep, and becoming highly aroused by Lastar’s pleas to move harder, faster, and deeper. His hand was still pumping up and down Lastar’s shaft, and Lastar’s own hand covered his. Suddenly, Lastar threw his head back and cried out in pure blissful satisfaction, his seed covering both their hands. It was too much to keep controlling himself, and Erestor pulled Lastar up so that he could sink his teeth into the other’s shoulder as his own desire took him, spilling himself within Lastar. He held the youth against him, enjoying the feel of pulsating in the tight space, and eventually softening. Their bodies were slick with a combination of sweat, mist, and viscid fluid. It took a moment to catch their breath.
“I find that I do not want to move,” Erestor whispered behind Lastar’s ear.
“I do not want to leave this alcove,” Lastar said with a smile upon his satisfied lips.
They held each other for a while longer until Erestor separated from Lastar reluctantly. Finally, Lastar turned in Erestor’s arms so that they were facing each other. He kissed the counselor, his hand twisting in the other’s long straight sable hair. “I can’t believe that I finally have you,” Lastar said, “Even if it is just a small part of you.”
“Give me time, Lastar. This was a big step for me, for both of us really, but I … I do not regret it,” Erestor admitted carefully.
“I guess there’s something to say about your lack of persuasion and my persistence,” Lastar jested. “Now, let me take you.”
It had been easier to initiate the sex. Erestor was in control taking the dominant position. Lastar wanted to change rolls, and that made Erestor feel very vulnerable, for this is how he was with Glorfindel. He felt nervous and afraid. What if he could not go through with it? He’d warned Lastar that his heart was cold. But then, a part of him wanted Lastar to dominate him. Perhaps it would erase some of the old feelings he had, like turning a new page, producing a new script. Suddenly, he saw this as an empty journal. He’d written the first few pages just now as he took control of Lastar. Now Lastar wanted his part to play, and Erestor knew he must let him. No more thoughts of Fin. No more comparisons. This was a new beginning, a title to his new story, not another chapter of the old one.
Erestor watched as Lastar strode naked across their small hiding place, picked up his bag and removed a thin blanket, rolled tight so that it fit in the bag. He shook it out and laid it down on a patch of moss that grew on the far side of the cave. The moisture would seep through, but neither elf cared at the moment.
Lastar inched his finger at Erestor, gesturing for him to come over. Erestor walked to the blanket and took Lastar’s outstretched hands. They sat down and Lastar pulled Erestor onto his lap.
“I thought you wanted to–”
“I do,” Lastar interrupted, “but I want to watch you too. It’s more intimate, don’t you think?”
They kissed again, tongues caressing, voices moaning. Erestor slipped backwards and brought himself down upon Lastar’s eager arousal. Lastar threw his head back, his long black hair cascading down to touch the blanket. Erestor moved his body up and down along Lastar’s hardness, and the youth’s eyes opened, settling on Erestor’s hazel depths. The counselor was a little uncomfortable with this, and he captured Lastar’s neck with is mouth, tasting the salt upon his flesh. It was a long fine neck, beautiful glowing heated skin. He couldn’t help but notice that even though Lastar wanted to be sheathed, he still let Erestor be in such a position that he dominated the act. That made all this easier and new … and exciting.
Their breathing became rapid as they both approached climax. And then, Lastar took a fist full of Erestor’s hair and pulled him away. Their eyes met again, but Erestor was inclined to look away.
“Erestor, please,” Lastar begged between panting breaths. “Look at me. Let me help heal your broken heart. Let me see into your soul.”
Erestor tried, and he looked into Lastar’s eyes. But all he saw was someone who loved him when he could not return the feelings, and it suddenly seemed wrong. He shut his eyes. “I … I can’t. Just let it be like this.”
Lastar arched his back and pulled Erestor’s head to his own. With their lips only a hair’s width apart, he whispered. “Alright, this time anyways.”
They wrapped their arms around each other. Lastar’s hips pumped forward as Erestor’s body came down upon him. It was deep and it touched that one place that sent Erestor over the edge, tumbling out of control along the waves of ecstasy. Lastar pulsated and spilled as Erestor came. They crushed their bodies against each other and Lastar whispered. “I love you, Erestor.”
Erestor spilled between their slickened bodies right at the moment of Lastar’s confession. The words mixed with the lust for his release, and he felt shame for not being able to answer Lastar with the same. Instead, he cried out almost as though in pain. “Don’t … don’t say that to me. Don’t EVER say that!”
In an instant, Erestor pushed himself off of Lastar and stood, his legs still weak from lack of blood flow. He stumbled to the wall of the alcove and started banging his fist against it. A primal scream filled his lungs and left them in a roar. Anger festered to the surface. It wasn’t because Lastar said this to him, but because the last time he heard those three words, they came from Glorfindel’s lips. Guilt, lust, anger and shame … it all mixed together and erupted.
Lastar had come to him, but Erestor hadn’t heard him move. He was suddenly being embraced, the young ellon’s warm breath on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Erestor. Maybe I should not have said that, but I must speak the truth. You’ve known this. It surely doesn’t come as a surprise.”
“But I cannot hear those words, not right now, not while it is still painful.”
“I don’t need you to answer me. I just need to tell you. I can wait, Erestor, really I can.”
“And if I can never say them back to you?”
Lastar didn’t answer. Perhaps he always thought that Erestor would come around, but the reality was, he might never tell another soul those three little words. “I’ve hurt you, and I said it didn’t want to do that,” Erestor said.
“I am not hurt, but I am patient,” Lastar answered.
Erestor’s ire came back in full force. “I have to be honest with you, Lastar. Even now, after making love, after enjoying your touch, after accepting the fact that I must move on, my mind is still occupied with Glorfindel. I find it difficult to look into your eyes and see your love, for I have none to give in return. He has that, and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel it again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be truly free of him, and that is not fair to you. I … I just needed to feel something … anything besides the emptiness, and there you were, beautiful and naked. I should not have done this. I’ve given you false hope, no matter what you might say about this being enough.”
“Come back and sit,” Lastar urged. He took Erestor by the arm and pulled lightly. “Let’s talk about this. Let me reassure you–”
Erestor resisted. “I should not have done this,” he repeated. “I’ve involved you for my own lustful needs. It’s not right. It’s … not … right.”
“I would wait an eternity for you if that’s what it takes,” Lastar said to convince him. “But look around you, Erestor. Who are you with right now? Who was with you in Dol Guldur, fighting for you? Who freed you from the Nazgûl’s hold? Who loved you enough and was there when you needed comfort?” Lastar took Erestor in his arms and forced him to look at his face. “Who has always said you deserved better than him? Be free of Glorfindel once and for all. You don’t have to love me, just be with me and let me help you heal.”
Erestor’s mind was a mess. His feet were planted to the ground. He could not speak to accept or refuse Lastar’s offer, and he could not resist when the younger elf dropped to his knees and captured his cock in his mouth, giving him satisfaction yet again. As he spilled into the warm eager mouth, the vision from the Palantír flashed before him, of an army of orcs on their knees, of the power he held over them, a power he felt he held over Lastar, using him for selfish reasons. An oily voice crept into his mind.
“See how it feels to take the one. Now imagine the power you could have over them all. Your knowledge is your power, Librarian.”
“No!” Erestor yelled, as he pushed Lastar away, knocking him to the ground. His eyes looked wildly around the alcove, searching for the owner of the voice. Why was this happening? He thought, and suddenly it came to him. Something was powering his thoughts and the reoccurring nightmares, something close like a receptor that could keep him in a constant state of fear and hatred, altering his mind, controlling him to a degree. It was not as strong as looking into the Seeing Stone, or having the Witch-king in his head, but it was enough to confuse him and bring doubt.
“It’s him!” he called. “It’s the creature. He will help destroy us from the inside. The Palantír was not wrong. It showed me my future, one that will happen if that … thing stays in Imladris. He must be destroyed.”
“What are you talking about?” Lastar asked, confused.
“My nightmares, they showed me what could come to pass if I had taken the Nazgûl’s offer, but I refused. Now, they are trying to force it to happen by using their spy. Don’t you see? It’s Astarion. He is their weapon. As long as he is within Rivendell, none of us are safe. He’s taken control of Glorfindel, weakened him, and separated him from the rest of us. And now he’s using me, instilling anger and hatred, watching it grow and spread until it ruins us all. They want me for my knowledge, the Nazgûl … Sauron. They want to turn me into one of them, to know all that I know, find our weaknesses, and use it to destroy whole kingdoms until they dominate the world. If I don’t stop Astarion, Rivendell will be first. Then, the darkness will spread. Bree, Rohan, Gondor, none will be spared. It all goes along with Sauron’s plan to find The One Ring.” Erestor helped Lastar to his feet. Then he grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly.
“You’re scaring me, Erestor. Where are you going?” Lastar said worriedly.
“No one else can stop this madness but me. I’m going to confront Astarion, and I’ll kill him if that’s what must be done.”
“You can’t!” Lastar yelled. “That is kin slaying. You’ll be punished, locked away, maybe even executed.”
“Astarion is not one of us anymore. He hasn’t been for a very long time. Glorfindel’s plan to rescue him and heal him is futile. But if I destroy the ruined one, the connection to the Dark Lord will be severed. I must do this. I’ve nothing else to lose anyways.”
Lastar’s heart broke to hear this, but he knew it was a risk to love Erestor and to hope he could ever love him back. “I’m coming with you,” he demanded.
“No! You mustn’t come anywhere near us. Stay here or go home, Lastar, but do not come. I will not hesitate to make sure you cannot follow.” Erestor’s voice was brooding and dark, and his hand reached for a knife that he kept inside his robe. “If you love me as you say, if there is any hope that I may some day be able to return those feelings, then you will stay away and wait for me to come to you.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at Lastar. Then, he left the alcove and did not look back.
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