No Remedy

NO REMEDY - CHAPTER THREE


Erestor sighed.

He’d forgotten how much he hated traveling.

Hated the idea of tents, and bugs, and
eating half-raw, half-burnt food cooked
over an open fire, or dry lembas with plain
water. Sharing the same conversations with the
same people...

The company he was with just made it worse.
Well... except for one thing. His eyes went
to the front of the column, where Glorfindel
rode beside his temporary Second-in-Command.
The Elf who had just wed had been left in
Imladris; to spend time with his new bride
while handling Glorfindel’s regular duties.

He sighed softly again, reaching up to pull
the hood of hisnew cloak further over his face.
It was very early morning still; the mist was
clinging to everything and he knew it would
make his hair try to escape the tight braid
and form into tiny ringlets around his face.
He didn’t feel like being teased overthem -
especially with Araden riding only a few horses
away. His cousin would be the first to cry out
a laughing remark.

Erestor felt too sleepy to try to come up with
a sarcastic remark in return.

He was rather surprised to find himself more
confident than he had expected - as soon as
Araden’s pale blue eyes had settled on him
this morning, he’d been certain he would start
shaking again - but he hadn’t. Maybe he was
just too sleepy after being up for two nights
in a row, or maybe his millennia away from the
Mirkwood Elves had helped him build up an immunity
to their taunting.

Whatever the reason, he had decided to just
rely on the sharp tongue he’d developed at
Imladris and let the rest take care of itself.

As long as Glorfindel didn’t get involved.
He couldn’t bear the thought of being teased
by his secret love.

But then, he’d never seen the blond do or
say anything deliberately cruel to another
Elf. It was one of the many things that
made him love Glorfindel; he had such a kind
heart.

He yawned, and shifted slightly in his saddle.
Another thing he wasn’t used to was riding a
horse; though he loved the animals, he had
avoided the stables after his favorite mare
had died of advanced age. He had enough past
experience to realize he was going to have a
very tender backside for a few days.

The prospect didn’t exactly fill him with glee.

And there was one other thing that was going to
make this trip miserable. His dark eyes slanted
past the Mirkwood Elves to the beautiful white
mare that pranced delicately along in front of
them, her mane and tail braided with silver
ribbons and her bridle and saddle decorated
with flowers.

Lady Riel’s mare.

And Lady Riel, riding her. Wearing a white
cloak with a design of flowers etched in tiny
silver threads, her hair coaxed into curls that
were rapidly losing their shape in the heavy mist.
She wore a crown of flowers that some maiden
Elflings had presented to her and she was
breathtaking.

And she knew it.

Erestor wondered again what she was doing
with the party - Elrond had murmured something
about Lothlorien fashions, looking puzzled, and
his Chief Counselor gathered that the She-Elves
of Imladris had petitioned him for a representative,
to bring back sketches of the latest robes,
cloaks and dresses. Lady Riel had been chosen.
Erestor had to admit she always seemed to be
dressed to perfection. She was probably the
best choice.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

And perfection or not, she looked rather silly
dressed like that, on a mare like that, in the
middle of the plain, sturdy cloaks and plain,
sturdy horses of the rest of the party. Even
Glorfindel had given her an odd look and moved
away to his place at the head of the line. Riel
seemed to be sulking, her pretty mouth turned
down in a pout. Erestor knew he should feel
ashamed of the wicked satisfaction that strummed
in his heart over that little event.

But he didn’t.


*


Glorfindel glanced back over the group of Elves
that were his responsibility for the next two
weeks, checking to make sure everything was in
order. He saw Riel’s pout and ignored it; if
she was going to be silly over not riding beside
him, that was her own fault. This wasn’t a
pleasure trip, riding out for a day of picnics
and fun. She had no idea what she was getting
into, but she hadn’t asked. When he’d stared at
her appearance among the travelers, she’d simpered
and told him she had planned it to be a surprise.

‘A romantic little trip together,’ that was what
she’d called it.

Well, she’d certainly find out differently. He
had no time to spare her while they rode, and
would have even less when they made camp. Bad
enough that he had to take care of a bunch of
soft diplomats - he had a feeling Riel was going to
be a nightmare.

His eyes passed over the Mirkwood Elves and
settled on the slim figure in the grey cloak
that rode among the Imladris diplomats. There
were only two others, both assistant Counselors
that had seemed immeasurably relived when told
Erestor was going along. Glorfindel had found
it difficult to hide his own glee at the success
of his manipulations. It hadn’t taken more than
a hint or two to Elrond to get the Chief Counselor
numbered among his charges.

Erestor looked sleepy, he thought, admiring the
way the thick eyelashes drifted over those dark
eyes. He wasn’t that far away, he could see him
fairly well from here. He’d given up wondering
why Erestor had become so fascinating; he wasn’t
one to worry about the deeper meanings behind his
thoughts. Erestor was intriguing - therefore
Erestor was watched.

Simple as that.

He liked the grey cloak. It was much better than
the black one he’d expected. The rich material
was soft and sturdy at the same time, much different
than Riel’s flimsy white thing. *That* cloak wouldn’t
last out two days. Erestor’s must have cost a nice
bit of coins - he’d have to compliment the twins on
their taste. They had told him how they wanted to get
Erestor a gift; they had thought of a horse of his
own or perhaps a tent he would not have to share.
Glorfindel had suggested the cloak himself. He’d
told them the idea of a horse might not please Erestor,
the Counselor seemed much too busy for casual riding
and a horse would need to be exercised after they
returned home.

The idea of Erestor having to share a tent had given
Glorfindel ideas of his own.

So he’d suggested the cloak, the twins had
enthusiastically agreed - the result was the grey
garment with darker grey embroidered edging and
elegantly plain grey fastenings. It made Erestor
look as though his skin were made of moonlight;
instead of looking like he was recovering from
some traumatic disease.

Glorfindel really liked the change.

He wondered how Erestor would react if he told
him so?

The Captain frowned a bit as he also wondered
what the twins had meant by their parting words
- why would he want to steal Erestor’s hair ties?
The other Elf would *not* be happy; he wanted to
stay onhis good side, not make him angry. Ah,
well, he’d figure it out. Perhaps he really did
look nice with his hair down, instead of in the
tight braid that looked as if it could pull his
scalp off.

Perhaps he should take their advice - such a
hairstyle was sure to give Erestor a headache
if he wore it long enough, and Glorfindel was
sure the Counselor would be unlikely to loosen
it at night. Erestor wasn’t the type to relax
around others just because it was evening and
time for rest.

Yes, he was definitely going to have to look
after his obsession.

And he’d enjoy every minute of it.


*


Erestor had been sure that he’d wake up more
as the day continued, but instead he found
that the swaying of the horse just made him
sleepier. He would have liked to just relax on
her back and nap, like he had when he was an
Elfling and his mare Hylidae was still alive.
He’d spent hours on the big, sturdy horse,
sprawled over her like she was a couch, sleeping
or reading while she grazed, unconcerned. It
had been one of the things Araden and the others
mocked him for, but he hadn’t cared for once.

Hylidae had been his dearest - and only - friend,
and he’d wanted to spend all his time with her.
It wasn’t like the others had given him options
or offered to let him play with them. No, they’d
just laughed at him.

Erestor found himself gritting his teeth at the
memory and forced himself to relax. The little
mare he was riding seemed to sense his sudden
emotional turmoil; she turned her head and looked
at him out of a big liquid eye, then attempted to
nuzzle his knee. He smiled down at her and patted
her neck. She was a nice little thing, though
she wasn’t Hylidae - a pretty little dapple grey
like moonlight on creekstones, where Hylidae had
been big for a mare and black as midnight.

Still, he found himself wondering what her name
was, and determined to ask one of the escort later.

Maybe even Glorfindel...

No, he’d be wise to avoid Glorfindel. He’d be
too nervous around him, with Araden and the other
Mirkwood Elves watching his every move. He’d make
an idiot of himself before he realized it.

Ah, he shouldn’t have thought about Araden so much.
His cousin was looking at him again. And that odd
expression was back in his eyes. Erestor kept his
own face blank and eyes facing the front of the column;
he pretended not to notice how Araden was staring. It
wasn’t like he could move back to speak to him; the
company had been carefully arranged and the part of
the path they had reached had become rather narrow.
Araden couldn’t move his flashy stallion without
upsetting the whole group.

Thankfully, he had enough brains to realize that.

But Erestor was sure there was going to be a nice
little sarcastic discussion around the campfire tonight.
For some reason he almost smiled; he’d been barely past
his majority when he’d left Mirkwood, still shy and quiet
and wore his feelings ‘on his sleeve’ as his mother had
said. Over the centuries he’d learned to bury them deep
under his skin and had sharpened his tongue to a razor’s
edge.

Araden had a shock in store for him.

He patted the little mare’s neck again and let his
thoughts drift away from his cousin and toward the
meetings they had scheduled in Lothlorien...


*


The evening turned out better than Erestor had
expected.

The Mirkwood Elves seemed to have picked up on
the respect - bordering on fear, for some of
them - that the Imladris Elves held for Erestor
and stayed silent around him. Araden just watched
him, his pale eyes thoughtful and measuring; even
when Erestor scraped up his courage and met those
eyes with a questioning look, he didn’t speak.

Maybe it was just because they were tired - the
first day of traveling was usually the hardest.
Sore limbs and sore backsides didn’t equal good
chances for comfortable evening conversation.

Erestor pulled his cloak a little closer. He’d
never taken it off, though most of the other
Elves had shed theirs once the fire was lit.
He was just so used to his robes that he knew
he’d feel naked if he sat there in just his
leggings and a tunic, no matter how loose the
tunic was. He yawned and watched the flames
dancing. So pretty...

He never noticed when the other Elves started
drifting away to their tents or to guard posts
- not until two voices registered in his ears.

Two familiar voices.

“Glorfindel - you cannot be serious! After all
the trouble I took to make sure I would be on
this trip with you?!”

“Riel - we cannot share a tent! We are not
bonded; no matter what is overlooked at Imladris,
we are on a diplomatic mission and morals must
be observed! Besides, I will have little time
- I will be up and down all night checking on
the guards.”

“But, Glorfindel...”

“This is not a pleasure trip, Riel. I have
serious responsibilities and I will not neglect
them!”

“What about your responsibilities to your Intended?”

Erestor felt an almost audible crack in his
chest when he heard that word.

“Intended? You’re a bit ahead of yourself, Riel,
I have never asked...”

“Oh, come, Glorfindel! All of Imladris knows you
intend to ask me to bond with you; there’s not an
Elf there or in this group that will blink twice
if we share a tent. I cannot believe you expect
me to share with that Mirkwood She-Elf!”

“You are the only females on this trip, Riel, you
will have to make due! She is probably not over
pleased at the idea of sharing, either.”

“Then let me come to your tent!”

“You cannot, Riel, I have a tent-mate of my own.
A She-Elf sharing with one Elf to whom she is not
bonded will set tongues wagging; do you want them
speaking of how you share with two?”

Erestor could almost see Riel pouting, even though
the Elves were behind him somewhere. They were
speaking low, so their voices wouldn’t carry to
the tents. He wondered if they didn’t realize he
was still sitting by the fire.

“Can’t your tent-mate share with the Mirkwood
Elf?”

“No, my *male* tent-mate cannot share with the
Mirkwood She-Elf. It just puts them in the
position you are trying to put *us* in!”

Riel’s voice took on a purr. “Oh, Glorfindel,
you have no *idea* of the positions I want you
in!”

“Riel! Enough, go to your tent. You shouldn’t
speak like that where we could be overheard!”

Glorfindel’s blush was nearly audible; Erestor
had to fight a grin off his face even though he
felt sick at the thought of the two beautiful
blond Elves lying together.

“Well! See if I offer myself to you again on
this trip! Good night!” And he heard Riel’s
footsteps as she flounced away.

Glorfindel approached the fire and sat down
beside of Erestor, who was once again gazing
into the flames, his eyes beginning to take
on the lovely glaze of sleep. “Counselor,
you will fall into the flames if you are not
careful; let me escort you to our tent?”

Well, *that* certainly woke him up! He stared
at Glorfindel in wide-eyed amazement. “O-our
tent?!”

The blue eyes gazing at him took on a wicked
gleam. “Yes, our tent. Come, the night grows
late and we have an early start in the morning.”
He took Erestor’s arm and lifted him to his feet,
practically manhandling the stunned Elf toward a
small tent.

A very small tent, with one large bed made of
blankets inside. Erestor gaped at it, then
Glorfindel. The blond Elf ignored him and began
undressing. Erestor ripped his eyes away, staring
at the tent wall as his cheeks flushed hotly.

“You cannot sleep in your cloak, Erestor.”
Glorfindel’s voice was gentle; Erestor risked
a glance and found that the Elda had only taken
off his outer tunic and armor. He still wore
a pair of soft grey leggings and a sky blue
under-tunic.

Erestor still blushed again. He pushed back
his hood and lowered his gaze to his buttons,
trying to keep his hands from shaking as he
unfastened them. He missed the surprised gaze
that slid over his hair, small strands of which
had indeed escaped in adorable little ringlets
around his face, or the way those eyes turned
hungry when he shrugged out of the cloak and was
left in his own black leggings and a dark green
tunic. The tunic might be baggy, but they simply
did not make leggings that didn’t cling; Glorfindel
could easily admire the shape and tone of his
slender legs and leanly muscled thighs.

And admire he did.

Quite breathlessly.

He had to restrain himself from reaching out
to stroke those thighs...

Erestor lay his folded cloak on top of his bag
and turned to find Glorfindel staring at him
with a very odd look in his eyes. “Are you all
right?”

“Do you sleep with your hair braided?”

“What?”

“You should take your hair down, or you’ll
have a headache tomorrow.”

Erestor’s chin went up a little, hiding
dismay behind arrogance. “I can take care
of myself, Captain.”

“I know you can, Counselor.” Glorfindel
gave him a teasing smirk and dropped the
subject of hairstyles for now. Instead
he lay down on the blankets and stretched
out, smirking harder when he saw Erestor’s
big black eyes go impossibly wider at his
actions.

And was it just him, or was he doing his
best not to let them drift over his body?

Glorfindel had forgotten any surprise or
trepidation over the way his thoughts were
turning. He’d always wondered about Erestor;
why he was so quiet and contained, why he wore
such unflattering robes and scraped his hair
back tightly. The fact that his thoughts had
turned to wanting the Counselor had ceased to
bother him when he saw the grey-cloaked figure
climbing on to Alethea, the little grey mare,
at dawn that morning. He’d felt a rush of pride
and protectiveness, knowing he was responsible
for Erestor’s safety on this journey.

“Come and rest, Counselor. I don’t bite.” He
paused, then his smirk turned wicked. “Not
unless you wish me to do so.”

Yes, that was definitely a blush.


*


Glorfindel pretended sleep until long after
Erestor’s breathing had finally evened out.
It hadn’t taken the dark Elf very long
to fall asleep, despite his obvious nervousness
at sharing a bed. He knew it was because
Erestor was not used to traveling. Perhaps,
tomorrow night, he would try to have a bit
of a conversation with him.

As for tonight...

As soon as he was certain Erestor was asleep,
Glorfindel got up and threw back the tent flap,
letting the light from the fire chase the
shadows away. Erestor lay with his back to
him, his braid like a black snake on the blankets.
Glorfindel oh-so-carefully eased the leather
fastener off the end and began to undo the raven
tresses, one cautious inch at a time. Finished,
he ran his fingers through the silky stuff,
spreading it like a midnight shadow over the
pale green blankets. He watched, fascinated,
as it instantly began to form into curls and
waves.

“Beautiful...” he whispered, stroking it
gently, letting one small curl wrap around
his finger. *Why* did Erestor hide this?
He’d never seen anything so lovely.

And now he understood what the twins had
meant.

Good advice.

He’d definitely be taking it.

At night, anyway. He wasn’t sure he wanted
the other Elves to see Erestor with his hair
loose - not until he had openly staked his
claim on the Counselor.

Erestor was *his*.

Even if the dark Elf didn’t know it, yet.

Glorfindel closed the tent flap and lay
back down, smoothing Erestor’s hair out
of the way so he wouldn’t pull on it. The
other Elf murmured softly, too low to make
out any words, and rolled toward him.
Glorfindel, nothing loathe, opened his
arms and pulled the Counselor to him,
settling the dark head against his shoulder
and wrapping both arms around Erestor’s
waist.

Ah, yes, perfect. Erestor fit against him
like he was *made* to lay there. Glorfindel
couldn’t help but wonder how well the fit would
be if he had those pretty thighs wrapped around
his waist and was thrusting...

...um. Getting aroused probably wasn’t the
best idea, right now.

After all, he didn’t want to frighten Erestor.
As silent and lonely as the Elf had always been,
it wouldn’t surprise him if he was completely
untouched. *That* thought didn’t help his arousal
any; he had to clench his hands into fists to keep
them from wandering down past Erestor’s waist, to
explore what was sure to be a lovely backside and
to touch those thighs like he had longed to, earlier.

To be the very first to touch him...

But he wouldn’t do that without Erestor’s permission.
That would be a betrayal of the fragile friendship
and trust between them; the last thing he ever wanted
to do was hurt the delicate-looking Elf in his arms.
He knew Erestor was strong, capable of taking care of
himself, but that wouldn’t excuse molesting him while
he slept.

No matter how much he wanted to.

It was going to be a long night.


*


It was morning.

Lady Riel woke up with a rock poking her in the
back. And her Mirkwood tent-mate had rolled over
on her favorite mirror during the night - it had a
lovely crack right through the middle. The Mirkwood
She-Elf was wishing she could give Riel a lovely
crack right down the middle of her face. What kind
of an idiot slept with a mirror in the bed?!

Erestor woke up sprawled over Glorfindel, with the
blond’s arms locked firmly around him. No amount
of wriggling could get him free. Then he realized
the froth of black around them both was his hair.
Loose.

Glorfindel woke up when panicked fingers started
trying to pry the leather hair-tie out of his hand.
He pretended he was still asleep, wrapped both hands
in Erestor’s glorious hair, and rolled over until
the smaller Elf was pinned beneath him.

And in Imladris, Lord Elrond stretched and yawned
and sat up and then got up and then started cleaning
up - and never realized that outside his door, the
usual peace of the Last Homely House was about to
descend into utter chaos.