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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 16 – Love Eternal

Erestor left the alcove, left the waterfall, and abandoned Lastar. His body was still feeling after effects of their love making, but the anger and guilt was beginning to numb him. He knew all along that it was wrong to give in to his lust. How would he ever be able to face Lastar again? Even their friendship was ruined now. Erestor did not love him, and he wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to have those kind of lasting feelings for him. He had just wanted to shed the loneliness for a while. He could have done that with anybody that was willing to have a temporary tryst. But it had been Lastar that he came upon, alone in the alcove behind the waterfall. There had been some safety in knowing that Lastar wanted him, but his love for Erestor made all of this very difficult and confusing.
That should have been the least of his problems, and perhaps it was, when he thought about all the times the visions reoccurred. Up until recently, Erestor had been able to keep them at bay, for they only invaded his mind in his sleep. But lately, they were getting stronger and creeping upon him in the waking hours. He would open a book and the words would play tricks on his mind, jumbling and reorganizing in the form of words he’d heard the Witch-king say. And then there was the incident with Canyo, when he could have sworn he heard that defiled voice tell him to embrace the hatred and let it empower him. But it was just now, when he was making love to Lastar, that he’d heard the voice once again, and realized that something was trying to control him, twisting his thoughts, making him think that he was selfish and uncaring, that taking Lastar with no real feelings for the ellon was the first step to dominating the world. Erestor had heard an evil laugh in the distant reaches of his mind, and knew who it was. Astarion.
He was no longer an elf. There was nothing useful within that form anymore. And he was using Glorfindel, and perhaps others, as a way to infiltrate Erestor’s life. It was beginning to make sense, and he knew he had to do something. It was no longer about Glorfindel or Lastar. It was about breaking Erestor’s spirit until his soul was so desolate and lost that the only thing he could do was give it over to the Nazgûl. The hatred made him want revenge, and what better way to exact punishment than to relinquish his soul to the ones that could help him deliver it. Another part of the vision had been to seek out Glorfindel and torture him as he had once done to Erestor, for torture it had been ever since they came out of Dol Guldur. And now, Erestor had gotten Lastar mixed up in all of this.
“As long as he listens to me and stays away,” he thought to himself as he made his way to the prison building. The hour was still late, he was sure that Glorfindel would not be there. There would be at least an hour before Fin would take his daily track along the streets of the city, and begin another day of delivering treatment. That would be enough time to confront Astarion, beat him down, and make him confess his wickedness to Glorfindel. Fin had to know what was going on, that it was not about saving a tortured soul, but creating one … Erestor’s.
The prison was dark and abandoned except for a single guard at the guardhouse. Erestor approached him and meant to walk past, but he was stopped.
“I was … uh, instructed by Lord Glorfindel to come and speak with the prisoner first thing,” Erestor lied.
“I’ve been given no instructions other than to turn anyone and everyone away but for Lord Glorfindel. I’m sorry, Lord Erestor. You’ll have to–” The guard swallowed his words when he saw the hilt of a sword as Erestor pushed aside his robe.
“I will not hesitate to slice you and let you bleed out your life force onto the ground. I’ve business with the prisoner, and you will let me in,” Erestor threatened.
The guard regained his position of control. “You dare to threaten an officer of the Imladris army? You’ll be arrested, and then you’ll have plenty of time to talk with the prisoner inside.”
Not as young and vulnerable as he looks, Erestor thought to himself. Obviously, this elf was well trained and would not cower to anyone. Time to change tactics. Erestor smiled kindly. “I apologize. Perhaps I did not make myself clear. I’ve been given instruction by Lord Glorfindel, your commanding officer if I’m not mistaken, and you will allow me inside.”
“Absolutely not. Unless you bring me written orders from Lord Glorfindel, then I’m afraid you must leave,” the guard said, unforgivingly.
“Very well,” Erestor smiled. “If you need it in writing . . .” Erestor turned and walked away, and waited until he thought the guard was not looking before he glanced over his shoulder. Once he was out of sight, Erestor disappeared into the shrubbery, and snuck back to the guard’s post. Of course, he knew he’d never actually use his sword against an innocent ellon just following orders, but the rock he picked up and now carried would serve him better. With quiet stealth, Erestor snuck up behind the guard, lifting the rock in the air, and brought it down with determined force. The guard never knew what happened, and fell limp as a rag to the ground. Erestor dragged him off into the bushes, where he hoped he would remain unconscious long enough to carry out his plan. Checking the area once more and finding it deserted, Erestor entered the prison building and made his way towards the sloping corridor.
The smell was horrible, like stale urine and unwashed clothes. The air was damp and had that classic mustiness to it, not unlike the dungeons of Dol Guldur. Actually, Rivendell’s prison smelled like a garden compared to the reek of that horrid place, where death always scented the air. Here, it was not death, but something unclean and evil, sour like a festering wound.
“Glorfindel, is that you? It is still early,” Astarion called from down the corridor. His voice told Erestor that he was close to the cell that held the prisoner, and his hand went to the hilt of Aicalango, Erestor’s sword. He moved along on the shadowed side of the corridor. There the light did not touch that side, and he stopped in front of Astarion’s cage.
The ancient one narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness. Erestor could see the blue hue of his eyes. Last time he’d met Astarion, they were white with fog. Maybe Glorfindel was right about the healing procedures, but he still did not trust that Astarion was the elf from Gondolin.
“Glorfindel? Why are you hiding in shadow?” Astarion asked curiously.
Erestor stepped into the filtering light and let him see who his visitor was. Astarion’s face looked shocked at first, as he tried to figure out who the intruder was. And then the eyes turned to dangerous slits, the blue fading to white.
“Erestor,” Astarion said welcomingly with menace. “What a surprise to see you here. I didn’t think you would come visiting so soon, but I am glad you are here. Come to grovel and threaten me to stay away from Glorfindel? Because if that is the case, it is too late, don’t you think?”
“The only thing I’m late in doing is killing you. I should have done it when you asked it of me,” Erestor said through clenched teeth.
“Ah, yes. Astarion managed to dominate that particular conversation. It was a surprise to see anyone within the tower and we were unprepared for company. Fortunately, our control over him is much stronger than anyone might think. Well,” the strange voice laughed, “you saw that for yourself. Astarion did a splendid job of slicing Glorfindel’s back. He is quite thorough at following directions.”
“And you are a fool to think it would be that easy to destroy one as mighty as Glorfindel.”
“Well now, he wasn’t really our goal, but I see you have figured that out by now,” Astarion said arrogantly. “So, what is on your agenda now? I know by Glorfindel’s desolate state that you are not here for him, yet . . .” Astarion paused and sniffed the air. “I sense the recent activities upon your person.” He laughed like a deep drum. “You move much quicker than I gave you credit for. Already found new flesh to enjoy? I wonder if Glorfindel knows. He, by the way, has not made any move towards another, not even me, no matter what you might think.”
Erestor ignored his comments and moved closer to the cell. “I am here for one reason, to finish what I should have done in Dol Guldur.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Astarion ridiculed. “A story I’ve heard before. Glorfindel thinks he can save this soul and you think you must destroy it. Well, I’ve news for you, Librarian, this is nothing but an empty vessel.”
“One that you’ve turned into a weapon for destruction,” Erestor said. “I know why you are here. I know you have used Glorfindel to bring Astarion to Rivendell. He guards the creature as a dwarf will protect his treasure. And you have managed to ruin the one thing that means most to me.”
Astarion laughed again. “I find that hard to believe … the part about the ‘one thing’. If that was true, you would not smell like a filthy dog who has just fucked a bitch in heat.” He stepped towards Erestor, only the bars of the cell separating them. “No, what you came here for is to try to make things right again, for the guilt upon your heart is much too heavy. When are you going to learn to throw out those useless feelings? Ah, but there is anger there too. Now that is more like it. My favorite kind, as a matter of fact. So much can be accomplished when hatred rules the heart.”
“You will release Glorfindel from whatever hold it is you have upon him,” Erestor demanded, “or else–”
“Or else what, you’ll kill me? What exactly are you killing, Erestor? Astarion’s soul is long gone. There’s nothing left inside here except memories that we control.”
“I’ll destroy this … vessel, as you call it, and then you’ll have no connection here. You’ve done enough damage.”
“I’ll admit to that. There is not much else we can do. Glorfindel despises you as it is. What do you think will happen when he finds out about you and the succulent ellon that still reeks on your flesh? Any hope you may have had is surely destroyed by now. And as for the ellon, well, it’s just a matter of time before he figures out that you only used him for your own satisfaction. You do not love him, and the one that you do love cannot stand you anymore. What is left for you, Librarian? Are you empty inside or can you still feel the remnants of the darkness upon your heart? We had control of you, if only for a short while, and in that time, we were in ecstasy by the wealth of your knowledge. Do not deny the fact that the visions you saw made you stiffen in your sleep. Power, wealth, an army to do anything you ask of them, revenge against a jilted lover, seems difficult to turn away from that. We can save you from the guilt that you feel now. You never would have pursued the ellon, had Glorfindel not tossed you aside. He seduced you from the very beginning, didn’t he? Has it ever been your decision to be with him?”
Erestor was taken aback. How could Astarion, or whatever it was that dwelled in his body, know anything about his and Glorfindel’s past?
Astarion saw the crease in Erestor’s confused brow and laughed. “Oh, we’ve been entertained by all the things within that gilded head of your mighty lover … ex-lover as it is now. Did you know that when he planned that hunting trip, all he wanted was to have a taste of you, and then he was going to toss you away? He never intended anything permanent between the two of you.”
“You lie!” Erestor shouted.
“I wish you could hear the hatred in your voice. It makes us want more from you,” Astarion said, closing his eyes and smiling. When they opened, they had cleared of the fog, turning blue once more.
“He has deceived us both,” said Astarion in a different voice, weaker, more desperate. Could this be partially the real Astarion? “Tell me, does he still control every situation? He used to be like that, but I thought it was because he was an army captain, and that’s just how he behaved. Then, he got to the point that he would not listen to any of my ideas, and here I was supposed to be his second in command. I told him we should not have taken the secret tunnels. The enemy was following too closely, and I feared we would be trapped, but he ignored me. Glorfindel always had to have things his way.”
Erestor listened to the voice of Astarion as he told more of that fateful night in Gondolin, and the similarities between Glorfindel then and now were uncanny. It was true that Fin always needed to have his way, and they had ended up in quite a few arguments because of his inability to bend.
“And so I listened to him and I followed him, and in the end it cost me everything. Then, when I needed him most, when the orcs captured me and dragged me away in the tunnel, Glorfindel turned from me and left me to die. But I didn’t die. I was kept alive, used, forced to do unimaginable things, raped of my soul, and my heart cut from my chest. That is only a fraction of what it has been like. I sacrificed myself so that Glorfindel might have lived, but in return, he was supposed to give me a mercy kill, not leave me to those barbarians. So tell me, Erestor, what has Glorfindel abandoned you for?”
“For you. You came back from the dead,” Erestor whispered.
“But I never really was dead,” Astarion said. “That was Glorfindel’s fate, after all. He slain the Balrog, sacrificing himself to save our people. So why was his soul spared by the Valar? Why was he allowed second life?”
Erestor shook his head and cocked it to the side as he looked into the ancient blue eyes before him. “Don’t you see? Glorfindel has always asked himself that very question. I don’t think he’s ever been completely himself since he came back from Mandos. The Valar brought him back but would not give him a reason, telling him that when the day came, he would know. So, as far as I see things, Glorfindel never really abandoned you. He always wondered, and the day we found you in the dungeons of Dol Guldur, I think he finally saw the reason. It was you all along, Astarion.”
“No,” Astarion whispered, and his voice turned dark. “No, no … no! You are not supposed to feel pity for him. Glorfindel used you. He told you he loved you when it was Astarion he loved all this time. He left you to fade from despair.”
Erestor was wise to what was happening, and he strengthened as the dark ones within Astarion began to show defeat. “This was you plan all along, to separate Glorfindel from me, to make me think he was choosing Astarion over me so that I would feel the effects of fading. And then you would step in and convince me to seek revenge and save myself from death, but instead, I would come to see the visions from the Seeing Stone turn to reality. But the one thing you didn’t count on was the fact that I might not fall into despair over the loss of my lover. I’ll not deny that I came close to wanting it all to end, but someone else pulled me back from the edge of that abyss. When all seemed lost, there was someone who loved me enough to guide me back. He was right. I never really was alone. He was always there for me, no matter what. Whether I’ll ever be able to mend my broken heart enough to return those feelings or not, I do not know, but I know I will not abandon him. If nothing else, he will always have my friendship. That is why I am still here. That is why I’ll not hand myself over to the darkness. He was strong enough for both of us, and it was he who cast your serpent-like grip from my heart.”
Erestor pulled his sword from its sheath, and then took a set of keys that hung on the wall across from the cell. “Now, it is time to end this. Astarion’s soul will finally be free from your grip. Imladris will not fall into enemy hands, and I’ll not be your bitch.” He unlocked the cell door and let it swing wide. Nothing stood between them any longer. Erestor brought his sword up, the light from the window flashing on its sharp edge. “Astarion, if you are in there still, if you can hear me, I am at your service, and I will give you what you asked of me within the dungeons. You deserve peace more than anyone else.” He brought his sword up in an arc and prepared to impale Astarion in the fashion that Glorfindel had taught him when they gave mercy to the elf prisoners they had found inside Dol Guldur. Just a downward motion straight into the heart, and Astarion would be free of the Nazgûl, free of the darkness, and free of Sauron. “Let this be a lesson to them. Peace be on your soul, Astarion.”
Astarion dropped to his knees, and his countenance turned to one of fear. His eyes turned to a light blue color, pitiful and weak as he looked pleadingly at Erestor’s raised weapon. “Please. Please don’t do this. I am better, I swear.”
“Your tricks do not work on me, beast,” Erestor answered, as he prepared to deliver the final blow.
“Erestor, no!” Glorfindel bellowed from behind.
Erestor turned his eyes to the side, surprised by Glorfindel’s entrance, but he did not look away from Astarion. “He has been deceiving you. This is not Astarion. It never has been. It is a spy for the Nazgûl … for Sauron. They mean to destroy us all, starting with Imladris.”
“Glorfindel, help me,” Astarion whimpered.
“Step out of the cell, Erestor, and leave him alone,” Glorfindel commanded calmly.
“No! This must end, and if you will not see to it, then I will!” Erestor raised the sword again, his vision tunneled on striking Astarion’s heart. The pitiful creature cowering on the ground covered his face with his hands. Just as Erestor was about to bring the blade down, he was slammed from behind and the sword was ripped from his hands. A heavy weight pinned him to the floor, and he angered quickly. Glorfindel had attacked him.
“Get off of me!” he cried out. Surprisingly, the weight lifted, but then he felt himself being hoisted up by the back of his robe. Once on his feet, he spun around and clenched his fist. He swung out before he’d focused on his intruder, and his punch was blocked. Glorfindel countered him and struck him in the gut. Erestor doubled over, but he recovered quickly. When he stood, he returned the punch striking Glorfindel at the base of his ribcage. It felt like punching a stone wall, as Glorfindel barely flinched. Erestor’s robes were gathered at the neck, and the elf lord made him straighten. The counselor decided that if it was a fight Fin wanted, then he would get it.
The gilded warrior’s arm drew back and his fist came forward, but Erestor managed to dodge it. In the split second it took Glorfindel to realize he’d missed, Erestor struck him in the jaw. A sharp pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder. Hitting Glorfindel was like fighting with a tree; he hardly budged and was barely affected. It was enough to distract him so that Erestor could get some distance between them and have a better chance at fighting, or at least evade any more strikes to his person. He wasn’t sure he could survive any more of Glorfindel’s hits without being seriously hurt or knocked unconscious. Fin was very strong, much stronger than Erestor had ever given him credit for. Of course, he’d never fought hand to hand combat with him before, and regretted his choice to do so. This was much too serious to walk away from, though, and if he had to battle Glorfindel to accomplish what he’d set out to do, then that’s what he would do.
Erestor saw his sword from the corner of his eye, but Glorfindel had seen him look. Astarion was closest to the blade, and Fin knew it. “Astarion, go!” the elf lord demanded.
Astarion cautiously picked up Aicalango, hiding behind Glorfindel for fear of Erestor coming at him. He was right to regard him with discretion. Erestor lunged towards the prisoner, but Glorfindel caught him and pushed him away.
“Are you mad?” Erestor yelled, confused and frustrated.
“There will be no blood shed,” Glorfindel said, and keeping an eye on the counselor, he called over his shoulder. “Astarion, leave now and–”
Glorfindel’s words ceased when the point of Aicalango was suddenly pushing dangerously against his back. “Astarion, what are you–”
“Silence!” Astarion directed with authority, no longer the weak fragile creature cowering on the floor.
“Astarion, what are you doing?” said Glorfindel confused.
“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to turn the tables around here,” Astarion said. He was once again speaking like one of the Nazgûl in that sickeningly oily voice. “Erestor played right into my hands, and so have you.” He laughed then, and leaned into Glorfindel’s ear, the edge of the blade dangerously close to slicing his flesh. “The mighty Glorfindel. I think not. No. Glorfindel the foolish seems more appropriate. You were never going to save something that was beyond saving. We rule this body now. We rule his soul. And now we know all of your deepest secrets and your darkest fears.”
As Astarion spoke, Erestor tried to move into a better position where he might be able to take his enemy down, but Astarion was wise to this. He looked towards Erestor with malice. “Get to the back of the cell.”
Erestor could see this was not the time to try anything, and he did as he was told. He watched helplessly as Astarion backed out through the cell door, taking Glorfindel with him at knife point. He pushed the barred door closed with his foot. “Lock yourself in here, and then throw me the keys.”
This was not how Erestor imagined any of this playing out, but he had little choice than to do what Astarion told him. Suddenly, Glorfindel’s eyes were bearing down on him, not in anger or shock, but with a plan. The ancient blue eyes shifted towards Erestor’s boot, and then to the keys in his hand, and back to his face. Glorfindel had remembered that Erestor always kept a small knife in his boot, and he needed it if he wanted to get free of Astarion. The keys would have to do as the diversion in order to retrieve the knife from his shoe. Then he needed to slip it to Glorfindel before it was too late.
“Hurry, Librarian!” Astarion shouted.
Erestor walked towards the cell door and fumbled with the keys. He gave Glorfindel a steely glare, secretly announcing his move. Then he dropped the bundle of keys on the ground. He knelt down, making sure the end of his robes covered the boot with the hidden knife. While he was in this position, he spoke to Glorfindel.
“His eyes have turned white again. This is no longer Astarion that you are dealing with.”
“How observant of you,” Glorfindel answered, as though irritated, but it was part of their plan to make Astarion think they still loathed each other.
Astarion laughed in that deep oily voice, which they recognized as that of a Nazgûl. “Fools, the both of you, but especially you, Glorfindel. You only thought you were healing him, but we have always controlled his soul. We let it out when it is to our benefit, and then we cage it up before it is noticed. Did you really think you could bring Astarion back?”
“I thought I could find what was left of him, and help him find the strength to fight you and free himself,” Glorfindel admitted.
Meanwhile, Erestor stood straight again, and the knife was carefully palmed from sight. Now to make the exchange. Glorfindel watched Erestor’s hand slip through the bars, the bundle of keys in his hand. He concentrated, waiting for the only chance he would have to get the knife from Erestor.
“I know Astarion is still in there somewhere, and if you try to harm me, he will fight back for control,” Glorfindel warned.
But Astarion laughed cynically. “He has no power over us.” He brought the blade up to the side of Glorfindel’s neck. “And soon, I’ll have no use for you anymore, once your lover has locked himself safely away. The foggy eyes regarded Erestor again. “Hurry up.”
Erestor had the correct key in his hand and started to insert it into the keyhole. He lifted his eyes, gazing through his long lashes and winked as a signal. Then, everything happened in a flash. Glorfindel elbowed Astarion, and at the same time, took the knife from Erestor. He turned and jabbed the knife into Astarion’s side, making the prisoner stumble backwards and drop Aicalango. Erestor pushed the cell door open and started for his abandoned sword. Before he could grab it, he heard Glorfindel yell out in pain. Erestor looked up and found Astarion with his arm around Glorfindel’s neck in a choke hold. In his other hand he held the knife, which he must have pulled from his side, and placed the tip against Fin’s side. Erestor froze.
“Let him go,” Erestor said calmly. “You do not want him anyways. It is me that you have always been after.”
“You’re right, it is you that we are after, but you have not made this easy. There is one sure way to make you listen, though, and that is to get rid of the object of your desire.” Astarion whispered into Glorfindel’s ear. “It’s a shame, really. You would have been an excellent subject to further grow our armies. Astarion’s offspring was highly useful. I can only imagine that yours might have been nearly unstoppable. Oh how we would’ve loved to have control over your soul, but I’m afraid we won’t be needing you, once we have Erestor in our brethren.” Astarion dragged the edge of the knife’s blade across Glorfindel’s side, cutting him. Glorfindel cried out and struggle to get free, but his strength was no match to that of Astarion, now controlled by the Black Riders.
“No, please stop!” Erestor begged. “Don’t hurt him.”
“So you still have feelings for him after all. That makes a difference, Librarian. Maybe once you watch me slice his gut open and spill his insides onto the floor, your decision to join us will be easier. Glorfindel dies and you will fade, but you can turn you soul over to us instead. You’ll spend an eternity as a king instead of alone within Mandos Hall. Come with us and there will be no more pain, no more loneliness.” Astarion made another cut into Glorfindel’s torso.
“No, no, no! Enough, please. Don’t do this,” Erestor pleaded.
Astarion ignored him and tightened his arm around Glorfindel’s neck, choking the life from the elf lord. Glorfindel’s hands came up to the thin arm, his nails digging into the pale gray flesh as he tried to claw his way to freedom. Erestor raised his sword, but Astarion drove the knife half way into Glorfindel’s body, blood running down his side, turning his shirt red.
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, a figure hurled himself towards Astarion, wrapping his arms around the ruined elf’s waist and pulling him off of Glorfindel. The elf lord stumbled forward, falling to his knees, and Astarion wrestled with someone on the floor beyond. The smell of blood became stronger as there was grunting and cries of agony. They were in an area where the light did not touch the corridor, and Erestor could not see who fought with Astarion. Leaving them to their battle, Erestor ran to Glorfindel and helped him up, trying to get him away from the fighting elves. Meantime, the sounds of brawling diminished. Erestor could see that there was a lot of blood coming from Glorfindel’s side. Erestor helped Glorfindel to sit on the floor against the far wall. “You need a healer,” he said.
“I’ll be alright,” Glorfindel insisted. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Meanwhile, one of the two figures was moving towards them from the shadows. Erestor tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and stood in front of Glorfindel to protect him. Out of the darkness rushed Lastar. He had dirt and blood smeared on his face, and a cut that ran from his cheek to his jaw, but he looked well. He went to Erestor immediately and grabbed the counselor, checking him over. “Are you alright?” Lastar asked desperately.
“I thought I told you to go home,” Erestor said, but he gathered Lastar in his arms. “Thank the Valar you are alright.”
“Astarion is dead,” Lastar announced. “And Glorfindel?”
“He needs a healer. Will you help me–” Erestor stopped speaking when Lastar went rigid in his arms. “Lastar? What’s wrong? Lastar?” He released the younger elf from his hold and looked at his face. His eyes stared out beyond the walls of the prison house and his mouth hung agape. Then he lost his balance and fell in a heap to the floor. Erestor was about to kneel down next to him, but noticed Lastar’s own throwing knife protruding from his back. The counselor looked up and found Astarion standing in the shadows, a huge blood stain spreading across his stomach, turning his prison garb red. Lastar must have stabbed him, but Astarion was not dead. Instead, he removed the throwing knife and threw it across the room where it embedded into Lastar’s back.
Every part of Erestor began to boil with hate and vengeance. He did not know if Lastar was alive or dead. It mattered not. All he wanted was to kill Astarion once and for all. Astarion came towards him, and Erestor moved to the side. The two elves circled each other in a slow articulate dance until Astarion was between Erestor and Glorfindel. The exit to the cells was at Erestor’s back, but he knew there was no chance that he would run off, not without Glorfindel and Lastar. Astarion turned sideways and eyed Glorfindel. He slumped against the wall, eyes closed. The stab wound hadn’t been that bad. Erestor glanced at Fin’s side and noticed that the knife was no longer protruding from his torso. Fin was only pretending to be weakened. He had a plan, and Erestor knew he needed to distract Astarion.
Astarion glanced over his shoulder, looking at Glorfindel’s slumping form. “He’ll not have long, I suppose, and then it will be just you and me. You’ll join us, and all of your knowledge will belong to us. We’ll know the secrets of every kingdom, every ruler, and vanquish each city one by one until there is no one left.”
“I will never join you,” Erestor said through gritted teeth. He focused all of his attention on Astarion.
“You say that now, but all the hate, all the grief you are feeling will become too much to bear. You’ll beg me for an escape before it is all said and done.” Astarion held Glorfindel’s sword, which must have been lost in the scuffle. He lifted it, and pointed it menacingly towards Erestor. “Ask it of me, Librarian, and I will give you a life of power. Imladris will be yours, filled with your own army that you can rule in any way you want.”
Erestor spit in Astarion’s face. “You will have to kill me, because there is nothing that will make me agree to join forces with you or any of your minions, especially Sauron. Go back to your rotted crypt, you bastard.”
Suddenly, there was Fin standing behind Astarion. “Good idea,” Glorfindel said calmly. The ruined elf spun around and Erestor caught a glimmer of silver where Glorfindel held the knife in his bloody hand. He grabbed Astarion’s arm and bent it behind his back, forcing him to release the sword. Erestor could hear bones cracking, and he knew Glorfindel had a strong grip on Astarion’s arm.
Like a switch had been turned on, Astarion’s eyes filled in with blue as the white dissipated. In the Nazgûl’s weakness, the real Astarion must have gained control over his soul. Erestor could only watch.
“Glorfindel, I’ve only a moment before they strengthen again. I’m afraid I’ll never come back after this, and they will rule my vessel forever, so listen to me. You have to kill me.”
No,” Glorfindel protested. “I can save you, Astarion. I know I can.”
“You already have. It’s because of you that I am here right now, but it is only temporary.” Astarion looked down at Glorfindel’s hand where he held the knife. He took the elf lord’s hand, placing the tip of the blade over his heart, and looked longingly into Glorfindel’s beautiful blue eyes. “It’s alright. I want you to do this. But before you do, know that I never blamed you for what happened in the secret tunnel. If I had just faced my feelings and realized who I really was, maybe none of this would have happened, but I buried my real urges and led my life through everyone else’s eyes. You were the only one I could be myself with. I do not regret any of it. I loved you, though I denied it constantly. If only I’d been honest with myself.”
“I’m sorry I did not give you what your eyes begged of me that day,” Glorfindel said, tears threatening his eyes. “I couldn’t do it. I was too weak in my heart, for I loved you, Astarion, and how does one mercifully kill the one he loves.”
“The Valar, they sent you back for a reason, but it was not for me. It was for yourself, Glorfindel, to set you free of your guilt, but I have been a burden on your soul. Well, I release you from my love so that you might give your whole being to another. There’s just one thing you must do now. Let me go. Please. Give me the honor of dying by your hand. Give me peace so that your heart and soul can be completely free to love.” Astarion’s hands covered Glorfindel’s, and wrapped around the handle of the knife.
Glorfindel held an arm around Astarion and leaned towards him. He kissed Astarion, and at the same time, he pushed the knife into his friend’s heart. The body convulsed and then went limp in Glorfindel’s arms. He pulled Astarion’s lifeless shape to his chest and kissed his forehead. “Sleep now. The nightmare is over.”
From the other side of the room, Lastar started choking and gurgling. Erestor started to go to him, but Glorfindel got to him first. He knelt down beside the young elf laying on the floor, and brushed the hair from his lovely face. Blood ran down from the corner of his mouth. His breathing was shallow, as if he fought for each breath. Glorfindel noticed the blood seeping out from beneath the elf. He was losing a lot. Fin looked up at Erestor, and slowly shook his head back and forth. The injuries were serious. Lastar was beyond any help.
Glorfindel looked back at Lastar. “You saved my life, Lastar. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I … didn’t … do it … for you,” Lastar struggled to say. “Treat him right. Love … him … completely. Take care of … him, as I wish … I could … have.”
Glorfindel smiled and nodded. Then he moved and motioned to Erestor for him to come to Lastar’s side. Glorfindel made his way over to the wall, and sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. Everything had happened so fast, and he was just now comprehending all of it as he held his head in his hands.
Erestor got on his knees and sat next to Lastar. “Oh, my dear Lastar. You should not have come. You should be home. I should have taken you there myself.”
Lastar tried to laugh, but it came out as a sputter and more blood escaped his mouth. “You think … I would have listened? I … always said … I’d be there … for you … no matter what.”
Erestor picked up Lastar’s head and gently put it in his lap. “I wish things could have been different. I wish I could have returned your feelings.”
“No you don’t, because … it wasn’t meant to be. But … I do not … regret … loving you. You gave me … the greatest gift of all, a … small part … of your heart. And that … my sweet Erestor … is … enough to last for eternity.” Lastar’s eyes blinked, staying closed longer each time. His breathing slowed, and with his final breath, he smiled and said, “I … love … you.”
Lastar did not inhale again.
“Oh, Lastar, no,” Erestor whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cupped the beautiful face. “I love you, too,” he said too late, and kissed Lastar’s forehead. Erestor held him in his arms and wept for the loss of such a special, brave soul. It was a tragic loss. Lastar gave his life not to save Erestor, but to save the only elf that he knew Erestor would ever love. It was truly the most selfless act anyone had ever performed, and Erestor would carry a part of Lastar in his heart forever.
After a while, Erestor left Lastar and rushed over to Glorfindel. He looked extremely weak. “I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”
“Maybe a little worse than I led on.” Glorfindel took Erestor’s hand and smiled. “You have to go get help. Bring a healer.”
“I don’t want to leave you again, Fin,” Erestor pleaded. “If I come back and find that you are–”
“I’m not dying, Erestor, not yet and not anytime soon, now that I have you back in my life.” Glorfindel touched the tears on Erestor’s face. “I do have you again, don’t I?”
“You’ve always had me, you bastard,” Erestor said with mirth and tears. “Alright, I’ll go.” He kissed Glorfindel for the first time in months, and felt the strength in his lips. Glorfindel’s life force was still strong, but he could not help worrying. “I won’t be long.” His hand brushed against Fin’s cheek. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you, Erestor. Now go, please, and hurry.”
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