Beauty And The Beast
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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.
Part Two
Title: Beauty and The Beast
Author: Erynlinia
Type: FPS
Beta: Slayer9649, all other mistakes are mine.
Pairing: Erestor/Lindir
Rating: R, eventually NC-17
Warnings: Slash (m/m)
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. No disrespect is intended and no profit is being made. This is purely for entertainment ONLY!
PART TWO
.... present day
“We will be making camp in a few hours! Can you make it until then?” Gildor shouted over the roaring of the wind.
Lindir nodded and tucked himself further into his cloak, trying to hide from the pelting snow. Gildor patted him on the shoulder and trudged back to the front of the group.
Pushing through the waist deep snowdrifts, Lindir cursed himself for the dozenth time today. He should have waited until spring to return to Imladris. He had been enjoying his time in Lothlórien but had grown restless for no apparent reason. When Gildor and his group passed through on their way to Lindir’s home, he did not hesitate to join them. However, now he questioned his actions.
Gildor said they would arrive in Imladris in a few days’ time, but this sudden snowstorm had caught them on their way through the Misty Mountains and he doubted it would subside anytime soon!
“I will be happy when we leave this cursed place behind!” whispered an elf to Lindir’s side.
“Aye, it is too close to where he lives.”
Lindir managed to glance at the two elves, wondering what in the world they spoke of.
Seeing the minstrel’s questioning look, the others quickly explained.
“It is said The Beast lives somewhere close to this pass.”
Lindir rolled his eyes and snuggled further into his cloak. What the two elves spoke of was only a legend. If, indeed, the first dark lord had cursed this unfortunate Erestor who supposedly haunted the mountain pass, someone would have seen the elf. No one had ever seen this elf of legend up close, if you discounted rumors and brief glimpses describing a ‘dark figure who moved as shadow and turned your blood cold when set upon by those glittering midnight black eyes’.
The story had been told and retold over the centuries, usually to frighten children into not wandering from home. Lindir was glad it was legend, for he could not comprehend the horror of such an existence.
Suddenly, he looked up and realized he had lagged behind a bit. Grasping his bag tighter to himself, Lindir quickened his pace. The exertion through the deep snow caused him to gasp for air as his body broke into a sweat. He had just reached the trailing elf when he slipped and fell, rolling several times.
Pulling himself back to his feet, Lindir began brushing the snow from himself when he noticed his bag was not with him. No! Frantically scanning the area, he did not see any sign of it. He had forgotten about everything except finding his lyre. It had been a gift from his parents on the day of his majority…it was the only thing he had left of them!
He retraced his steps and dug through suspicious mounds of snow but to no avail. Only when his fingers started bleeding and his lungs burned from gasping in the frozen air, did Lindir stop.
He looked about in disbelief…his traveling companions were nowhere in sight!! Lindir called out Gildor’s name but the sound was swallowed by the shrieking wind.
Sweet Elbereth! Lindir fought the urge to panic, concentrating on slowing his breathing. Trying to ignore the icy hand of fear that clutched his heart, the minstrel continued in the direction of Imladris. He looked back one last time, a tear frozen to his cheek, but there was no sign of his lyre. Swallowing hard, Lindir began walking.
~*~
The sun had long since been gone from the sky and Lindir knew he had to find some sort of shelter. He should have come across Gildor and the others but obviously had gotten himself lost.
Shuffling miserably through the snow, Lindir stopped when he spotted a strange outcropping of rock. Perhaps it was a cave! The Valar knew he needed to rest and get out of the storm! Whispering a quick prayer that there were no orcs or other evil creatures in residence, the frozen elf walked inside. Curiously, the entrance led, not to a mountain cave…but to a door!
Lindir ran his numb fingers over the carvings, elvish carvings. How odd. His hearing then detected a faint click as the door eased open ever so slightly.
‘Well go in,’ part of his mind argued. ‘You are cold, wet and will most likely freeze to death before sunrise.’
‘But whose dwelling am I trespassing on? I cannot just go in without an invitation!’
‘Lindir, you foolish elf! That is a *door* before you…not a rat infested cave. Obviously, whoever is at home will be more than happy to have the company being out here all alone.’
The minstrel hesitated. Who, indeed, lived here? What elf would be in such a place?
‘It is cold out here. At least go in and warm up…perhaps the place is empty and no one lives here at all.’
Knowing he had little choice, Lindir quietly opened the door and entered. There was a faint glow in the distance, as if from a fire and that is where he headed. He looked about in astonishment as the rough hewn stone gave way to polished, finished walls and the floors began to show rugs and carpets. The further he went into the dwelling, the more and more it looked like a regular home.
Suddenly, the hallway opened up into what appeared to be a living room. Sure enough, a warm, welcoming fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. There was a plush sofa before it and two chairs on either side. In the faint light on the other side of the room, Lindir could barely make out another hallway.
“Hello,” he called out, his voice shaking with fear. When there was no answer he tried again but much louder. Still no response.
Glancing around nervously, Lindir’s frozen body made its way to the fireplace. He sighed in bliss as the warmth seeped into his bones and sent a wonderful lethargy through him.
“Hello!” he tried once more. “My name is Lindir! I apologize for barging in unannounced like this!”
Again…no answer.
With a yawn, Lindir sat down on the couch and eyed the fur coverlet. He would stay only to warm up and then be on his way. Yes, he could do that! Just warm up and go.
Wrapping the fur around his body, Lindir yawned again. His eyes began to fill with reverie and before he could stop himself he was lying on the couch, sound asleep.
~*~
He sensed he was no longer alone! Setting down the piece of charcoal, he placed his hands to his face.
Who dared trespass!? He had watched this mountain pass for centuries! He would watch the travelers hungrily, aching for some sort of contact, communication but knew what the reaction would be. For the most part, he stayed away; however, at times the loneliness became too much and he would attempt to speak with one of the human rangers…and even an elf once. Sadly, the reactions were as they had been when he was first cursed.
Terror, revulsion.
And now someone was here in his sanctuary!
Angrily, he swept out of his study and silently made his way to the living room. He could hear the interloper in the distance, apologizing for his trespass. The voice sounded tired, ragged. When Erestor came to the doorway, he stopped. His visitor was wrapped up in the coverlet and asleep on the couch. He clenched his jaw and moved closer until he could see the white hair peeking from the blanket.
With a gasp, Erestor realized the sleeping figure was an elf! A Teleri!! Closing his eyes, he tried to fight back the accusing screams that resonated through his mind. This could not be happening! This could not be happening!!
As he paced before the fireplace, he wondered why the elf slept with his eyes closed. Deep from within his memory he recalled if one was ill or wounded they would sleep thusly. Was that it? Was that why this elf was here? He was ill?
Rubbing his hands across his face, Erestor did not know what to do with his uninvited guest! He knew what he *should* do…toss him out as quickly as possible!!
Abruptly, he stopped his pacing as he became aware that the elf…called Lindir if he heard correctly, was awake. Erestor felt as if someone had reached in and ripped out his heart when he looked into amethyst eyes.
Beautiful! He had never seen anyone with eyes such as the ones that held him captive now. He took a step closer, his soul begging to be closer to this one. However, Erestor stopped when Lindir flinched at his approach, those beautiful eyes filling with fear.
His heart turned icy once more.
Lindir woke to find a dark figure pacing, mumbling to himself. He stayed silent, hoping to learn more of this elf…for he was an elf there was not doubt to that. Then the elf turned to face him and when he stepped closer, Lindir fought the urge to jump up and run.
The elf’s raven hair hung to his waist in an unkempt mess and midnight eyes glittered dangerously behind a feral, black countenance. Feeling his heart race with fear, Lindir whispered one word; a word he thought was only a nightmare legend.
“Erestor.”
TBC
Author: Erynlinia
Type: FPS
Beta: Slayer9649, all other mistakes are mine.
Pairing: Erestor/Lindir
Rating: R, eventually NC-17
Warnings: Slash (m/m)
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. No disrespect is intended and no profit is being made. This is purely for entertainment ONLY!
PART TWO
.... present day
“We will be making camp in a few hours! Can you make it until then?” Gildor shouted over the roaring of the wind.
Lindir nodded and tucked himself further into his cloak, trying to hide from the pelting snow. Gildor patted him on the shoulder and trudged back to the front of the group.
Pushing through the waist deep snowdrifts, Lindir cursed himself for the dozenth time today. He should have waited until spring to return to Imladris. He had been enjoying his time in Lothlórien but had grown restless for no apparent reason. When Gildor and his group passed through on their way to Lindir’s home, he did not hesitate to join them. However, now he questioned his actions.
Gildor said they would arrive in Imladris in a few days’ time, but this sudden snowstorm had caught them on their way through the Misty Mountains and he doubted it would subside anytime soon!
“I will be happy when we leave this cursed place behind!” whispered an elf to Lindir’s side.
“Aye, it is too close to where he lives.”
Lindir managed to glance at the two elves, wondering what in the world they spoke of.
Seeing the minstrel’s questioning look, the others quickly explained.
“It is said The Beast lives somewhere close to this pass.”
Lindir rolled his eyes and snuggled further into his cloak. What the two elves spoke of was only a legend. If, indeed, the first dark lord had cursed this unfortunate Erestor who supposedly haunted the mountain pass, someone would have seen the elf. No one had ever seen this elf of legend up close, if you discounted rumors and brief glimpses describing a ‘dark figure who moved as shadow and turned your blood cold when set upon by those glittering midnight black eyes’.
The story had been told and retold over the centuries, usually to frighten children into not wandering from home. Lindir was glad it was legend, for he could not comprehend the horror of such an existence.
Suddenly, he looked up and realized he had lagged behind a bit. Grasping his bag tighter to himself, Lindir quickened his pace. The exertion through the deep snow caused him to gasp for air as his body broke into a sweat. He had just reached the trailing elf when he slipped and fell, rolling several times.
Pulling himself back to his feet, Lindir began brushing the snow from himself when he noticed his bag was not with him. No! Frantically scanning the area, he did not see any sign of it. He had forgotten about everything except finding his lyre. It had been a gift from his parents on the day of his majority…it was the only thing he had left of them!
He retraced his steps and dug through suspicious mounds of snow but to no avail. Only when his fingers started bleeding and his lungs burned from gasping in the frozen air, did Lindir stop.
He looked about in disbelief…his traveling companions were nowhere in sight!! Lindir called out Gildor’s name but the sound was swallowed by the shrieking wind.
Sweet Elbereth! Lindir fought the urge to panic, concentrating on slowing his breathing. Trying to ignore the icy hand of fear that clutched his heart, the minstrel continued in the direction of Imladris. He looked back one last time, a tear frozen to his cheek, but there was no sign of his lyre. Swallowing hard, Lindir began walking.
~*~
The sun had long since been gone from the sky and Lindir knew he had to find some sort of shelter. He should have come across Gildor and the others but obviously had gotten himself lost.
Shuffling miserably through the snow, Lindir stopped when he spotted a strange outcropping of rock. Perhaps it was a cave! The Valar knew he needed to rest and get out of the storm! Whispering a quick prayer that there were no orcs or other evil creatures in residence, the frozen elf walked inside. Curiously, the entrance led, not to a mountain cave…but to a door!
Lindir ran his numb fingers over the carvings, elvish carvings. How odd. His hearing then detected a faint click as the door eased open ever so slightly.
‘Well go in,’ part of his mind argued. ‘You are cold, wet and will most likely freeze to death before sunrise.’
‘But whose dwelling am I trespassing on? I cannot just go in without an invitation!’
‘Lindir, you foolish elf! That is a *door* before you…not a rat infested cave. Obviously, whoever is at home will be more than happy to have the company being out here all alone.’
The minstrel hesitated. Who, indeed, lived here? What elf would be in such a place?
‘It is cold out here. At least go in and warm up…perhaps the place is empty and no one lives here at all.’
Knowing he had little choice, Lindir quietly opened the door and entered. There was a faint glow in the distance, as if from a fire and that is where he headed. He looked about in astonishment as the rough hewn stone gave way to polished, finished walls and the floors began to show rugs and carpets. The further he went into the dwelling, the more and more it looked like a regular home.
Suddenly, the hallway opened up into what appeared to be a living room. Sure enough, a warm, welcoming fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. There was a plush sofa before it and two chairs on either side. In the faint light on the other side of the room, Lindir could barely make out another hallway.
“Hello,” he called out, his voice shaking with fear. When there was no answer he tried again but much louder. Still no response.
Glancing around nervously, Lindir’s frozen body made its way to the fireplace. He sighed in bliss as the warmth seeped into his bones and sent a wonderful lethargy through him.
“Hello!” he tried once more. “My name is Lindir! I apologize for barging in unannounced like this!”
Again…no answer.
With a yawn, Lindir sat down on the couch and eyed the fur coverlet. He would stay only to warm up and then be on his way. Yes, he could do that! Just warm up and go.
Wrapping the fur around his body, Lindir yawned again. His eyes began to fill with reverie and before he could stop himself he was lying on the couch, sound asleep.
~*~
He sensed he was no longer alone! Setting down the piece of charcoal, he placed his hands to his face.
Who dared trespass!? He had watched this mountain pass for centuries! He would watch the travelers hungrily, aching for some sort of contact, communication but knew what the reaction would be. For the most part, he stayed away; however, at times the loneliness became too much and he would attempt to speak with one of the human rangers…and even an elf once. Sadly, the reactions were as they had been when he was first cursed.
Terror, revulsion.
And now someone was here in his sanctuary!
Angrily, he swept out of his study and silently made his way to the living room. He could hear the interloper in the distance, apologizing for his trespass. The voice sounded tired, ragged. When Erestor came to the doorway, he stopped. His visitor was wrapped up in the coverlet and asleep on the couch. He clenched his jaw and moved closer until he could see the white hair peeking from the blanket.
With a gasp, Erestor realized the sleeping figure was an elf! A Teleri!! Closing his eyes, he tried to fight back the accusing screams that resonated through his mind. This could not be happening! This could not be happening!!
As he paced before the fireplace, he wondered why the elf slept with his eyes closed. Deep from within his memory he recalled if one was ill or wounded they would sleep thusly. Was that it? Was that why this elf was here? He was ill?
Rubbing his hands across his face, Erestor did not know what to do with his uninvited guest! He knew what he *should* do…toss him out as quickly as possible!!
Abruptly, he stopped his pacing as he became aware that the elf…called Lindir if he heard correctly, was awake. Erestor felt as if someone had reached in and ripped out his heart when he looked into amethyst eyes.
Beautiful! He had never seen anyone with eyes such as the ones that held him captive now. He took a step closer, his soul begging to be closer to this one. However, Erestor stopped when Lindir flinched at his approach, those beautiful eyes filling with fear.
His heart turned icy once more.
Lindir woke to find a dark figure pacing, mumbling to himself. He stayed silent, hoping to learn more of this elf…for he was an elf there was not doubt to that. Then the elf turned to face him and when he stepped closer, Lindir fought the urge to jump up and run.
The elf’s raven hair hung to his waist in an unkempt mess and midnight eyes glittered dangerously behind a feral, black countenance. Feeling his heart race with fear, Lindir whispered one word; a word he thought was only a nightmare legend.
“Erestor.”
TBC