Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

A Price for Peace	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2269 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. No money is being made from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3

Erestor was tired, very tired. He sat in his library, trying to write in his personal ledger, when Léra trotted in, crying and whimpering in her usual way.
“Not again,” Erestor complained. “I just took you to the courtyard moments ago. Be a good girl and go lay down. You’ll just have to wait.”
Léra unfortunately did not understand the word wait. She cried again and started walking in circles with her nose to the carpet. Erestor looked up just in time. “Ack, no!” he corrected, jumping up from his desk, and almost spilling the ink pot. He hesitated just long enough to save his papers from damage, giving Léra the opportunity to do what she needed to do on Erestor’s expensive rug.
“No, no, NO!” he shouted, but it was too late. Léra was already running off, and a fresh puddle replaced the spot where she just stood. “Glorfindel!” Erestor called, but there was no answer. He only half expected the elf lord to be within range to hear his voice.
Erestor retrieved a towel and proceeded to soak up the mess, crawling on hands and knees. “I should have known better than to give the servants the day off. Just once, I’d like to sit silently and do a little writing,” he muttered in complaint. When he was done, he discarded the towel and washed up in the basin. “You need something to take care of,” he said mocking Glorfindel’s voice. “You are so good at doing that.”
There was a knock at his door, and Erestor turned. “Glorfindel, if that is you, I swear I will–”
“Look who I found wandering the halls.” It was not Glorfindel, but rather Elladan come for a visit. Following him into the library was Léra. “My, she has grown by leaps and bounds, hasn’t she?” Elladan leaned down and ruffled the puppy’s hair, her tail wagging rapidly as she enjoyed the attention.
“Oh, you brought her back,” Erestor said, sounding disappointed.
Elladan came into the room and raised a questioning brow. “Do I sense a bit of trouble in paradise?”
“A bit? I swear, Elladan, if I had any inclination that taking care of a puppy was this much work, I would have made Glorfindel march right back to Bree, and give this dog back to the boy. I haven’t had any time to myself. I can’t concentrate long enough to get my thoughts together, and there she is, crying because she needs to relieve herself again. How much piddle can one dog make?”
“Sounds like you need a break,” Elladan mentioned.
“A break? I need a good night’s sleep. I am up every hour on the hour. And you’d think that Glorfindel would help? Oh no, wouldn’t want to disturb his lordship from his beauty sleep,” Erestor complained. “Not to mention the terrible strain it has put on our … night life, if you understand my meaning.”
“It won’t last forever,” Elladan said reassuringly. “Soon, she’ll outgrow all of this, and she’ll be a well behaved dog, loyal to her master.”
“Not soon enough,” Erestor murmured indistinctly to himself.
“Why don’t you let me take her for a few days,” Elladan offered. “That way you can get some rest, and it will give you and Glorfindel a chance to be together … uninterrupted.”
“Are you sure it would not be a burden to you? Léra can be quite persistent, especially in getting her own way.” Normally, Erestor would refuse an offer of kindness, but the thought of having Glorfindel to himself for an entire evening without stopping to take care of the puppy was too good to be true.
“It’ll be no problem at all,” Elladan smiled. “How about tonight?”
Erestor sighed with relief. “That would be perfect timing.”
* * *
For three nights in a row, Erestor had Glorfindel to himself. They had enjoyed a light meal, sipped fine wine, warmed their flesh by the fire, and slipped into bed, finding repeated satisfaction until the early hours of the morning. It felt wonderful, Erestor thought, just like it used to be.
This particular night had been adventuresome, and they had slept lightly after another round of love making. Erestor was awakened by the feel of Glorfindel kneading his naked arse, a finger sliding lower and lower, sending static charges surging up his spine. A set of teeth playfully clamped down on his right buttocks, and Erestor undulated seductively. The scent of lavender filled the air, and the counselor anticipated what would come next.
“Again already? You are a beast tonight, Fin.”
Glorfindel slid onto Erestor’s body as he lay face down on the bed. He felt his thighs forced apart and raised himself into position. Glorfindel released a low growling laugh. “A bit anxious, aren’t we? I think I’ll play with you first, my prey.”
Erestor rolled his shoulders as he turned his head. “Kiss me, lover,” he invited, and Glorfindel obliged. As they kissed, Erestor managed to move his body, turning over so that he was on his back, looking up into the handsome and lovely face of his gilded warrior. Their legs tangled, and their arms wrapped around each other. Glorfindel’s thigh came up and laid across Erestor’s pelvis. His hardness pushed against Erestor’s hip. Their lips slid across each other, tongues tasting and exploring.
“Roll onto your side,” Glorfindel whispered.
“Oh Fin, I do love it when you–”
There was a sudden pounding on the door, and before either elf could separate their lips, someone burst through the bedroom door. Erestor gasped and stared towards the shadowy figure invading his home. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Out of the darkness leapt Léra, bounding onto the bed. She circled the lovers, still in their embrace, and then jumped down, disappearing into another part of Erestor’s home. Erestor scrambled for the sheet, covering both himself and Glorfindel. “Elladan, is that you?”
Out of the shadows stepped Elladan, and next to him his twin, Elrohir. They stood side by side, gawking at the lovers. Glorfindel, in his suave and seductive manner, looked over his shoulder and smiled deviously. “Hello boys, care to join us?” He removed the sheet that Erestor had just covered them with. Luckily, his thigh was covering Erestor’s still fully aroused manhood.
Erestor gasped again, this time out of shock. “Fin!” he reprimanded.
Elladan looked embarrassed, but mostly fed up. Elrohir cocked his head, raised a brow, and allowed a smile to slowly spread. “Hmm,” he muttered, considering the offer.
Elladan glanced at his brother and elbowed him. “Elrohir!” he complained.
The glancing blow did nothing to keep Elrohir from eyeing Glorfindel and Erestor, his mind running rampant with temptation. “What!” he countered. “He asked.”
“I swear, if it was not like staring into a mirror every time I looked at you, I’d say we were not related,” Elladan chided.
“Really, El? You feel nothing when you look at them? Not even a twitch? Do you not find it arousing to look upon two males?”
“What I find arousing is the fully willing and wet elleth that I left in my room.” Elladan turned back to Erestor, who had managed to wrap himself in his discarded robe, and now stood by the bed. “And that leads me to the reason for my invasion upon your privacy. I deeply apologize, Erestor, but I cannot take one more moment. I know I offered, but I take it back. Léra is a hand full, and too much to handle. I haven’t slept in three nights.”
“Sounds like you weren’t sleeping tonight either, but for a different reason,” Glorfindel chortled.
Erestor sighed and rolled his eyes at Glorfindel. He turned his attention back to Elladan and nodded. “I apologize if she was a burden. I should have taken her back sooner. Please, accept my apology and go back to your … guest.”
“It’s alright,” Elladan responded, sounding a bit guilty for reneging his offer. “I’m sorry too, for interrupting. Good night.” He turned and left the room, but Elrohir stood there a moment longer.
Glorfindel’s mouth curled into a wicked smile as he watched Elrohir’s eyes scan over their bed. He looked up at Erestor. “Are you sure you don’t want company?”
Erestor started to berate Glorfindel, but Elladan grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him through the door. “Fin was only jesting. Let them alone,” he scolded his brother. Then he smiled regretfully to Erestor and Glorfindel. “Good night,” he said, closing the door.
Glorfindel watched Elrohir leave reluctantly, but Erestor had seen the hopeful gaze on his lover’s face. He cleared his throat to gain Fin’s attention. “Have you ever … uh … with … Elrohir?” he asked curiously.
“I was only toying just now. I’d never do such a thing with the sons of Elrond. They were never even a consideration.”
“Mmph,” Erestor huffed again cynically.
“Meldanya, how could you suggest such a thing? They are Elrond’s sons. Their mother was like a sister to me.”
“Well, it’s good to know that you still have some morals left,” said Erestor, pulling the robe tighter around his body.
“However, if you ever decided that you wanted to experiment–” Glorfindel taunted before he was cut off.
“Three’s a crowd,” said Erestor, walking away from their bed.
“Where are you going?” Fin griped.
“To check on Léra, and then to make some tea. I don’t think I feel like playing anymore tonight.” The counselor strolled across the room to the door.
Glorfindel watched his lover leave the bedroom. He flung onto his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking that he might have made a mistake by bringing home the puppy.
* * *
A few weeks had passed, and Léra was getting better about holding her bladder and using the courtyard. Erestor was thrilled to be able to sleep through the night. However, Léra’s new habit was just as annoying. She’d reached the age when all puppies began losing their teeth, and that meant she chewed everything. So far, she’d eaten two pairs of Erestor’s boots, and gnawed on a handful of wooden spindles on the stairs. And now, while sitting at his desk trying to write something witty in his daily journal, he looked down to find the dog chewing on the corner of his good rug. Well, it was not so good anymore, not since Léra made use of it as a place to relieve herself. He was about to yell at her, but he was tired of it, and the rug was already ruined. “Go on then. Perhaps you’ll choke on it,” he said, laughing to himself.
He watched as Léra’s ears perked up and her head twisted sideways, as though she was trying her best to understand Erestor’s words. She had grown twice as big as the day Glorfindel brought her home. She would be generous in size when she was full grown, probably the height of a small pony, he thought. “Must be part wolf hound,” he said to himself. He reached out and ruffled the brown hair on her fuzzy head. “We must teach you to hunt. You could be quite helpful to Glorfindel on his excursions.”
Léra’s tongue flopped out and her mouth curved into a smile. Then she licked Erestor’s hand and wagged her bushy tail. Erestor couldn’t resist smiling himself. “Alright, you’ve been fairly good today so far, except for the rug, but that’s beyond repair by now. Stay there and I’ll fetch you a special treat. I believe there is some dried venison in the pantry.” Léra sat obediently.
Erestor went to the kitchen and searched the cupboards until he found what he was looking for. Glorfindel always kept dried meat in the house. Another trait of a warrior, always prepared. Erestor had learned a lot of things about Glorfindel since he permanently moved in with Erestor a few months ago. He slept with a weapon close to their bed out of habit, even though there was no threat of anything happening in their sleep. He thought it was due to the fact that Fin still had nightmares occasionally. They had both been trapped and held prisoner in Dol Guldur during the Ring War. The Witch-king of Angmar had managed to invade both of their minds at the time. While Erestor dealt with his own capture, Glorfindel had been locked up and whipped almost to the point of death. Even though the Witch-king and his brethren were long destroyed, this was still the reason for the nightmares. Erestor did his best to help Fin through the memories of that time, but they still visited him every once in a while, hence the reason for the dagger that he kept in the drawer of his side table. The dried meat was just an old soldier’s habit. It was a main staple among the troops when they were out on patrol. Dried meat kept for months and was a viable source of protein and strength. Even now, when Glorfindel went on errands, he still took a supply of the stuff with him.
Currently, Fin was away on another errand for Lord Elrond, some business in Lothlórien. Erestor hadn’t gone with him this time because of Léra. She was not old enough to go with them, too curious and troublesome was more like it. And Erestor could not ask Elladan to watch her again. So he decided to stay in Rivendell and perhaps find time to finish his writing, but that hadn’t been so easy.
Often times, Erestor found his mind wandering back to the day he came upon Lastar at the waterfall. It was a desperate time for the counselor. Glorfindel had closed himself off to Erestor. Their relationship had seemed to end, and Erestor’s heart was in turmoil. That’s when he truly discovered the bond that they’d made, for without Fin in his life, he felt the fading of his soul. It was excruciating, something he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. And just when he thought he’d reached the deepest abyss, Lastar was there, as usual. The young elf, who had always held Erestor with high admiration, seemed to appear anytime the counselor was troubled, and especially when it concerned Glorfindel. This time, though, Erestor needed him, used him as an anchor and drew from his strength so that Erestor could confront Fin one more time before giving up. In order to do this, Erestor conceded to Lastar’s seductions, and they joined in secret behind the waterfall.
Erestor told himself time and time again that he committed this act of immorality to save himself from the pain of fading and try once more to confront Glorfindel. It had worked, but it came with a price, when Lastar sacrificed his life in order to save Fin’s, and not for the elf lord, but for Erestor. Although Lastar loved Erestor, he’d seen how desolate the counselor was without Fin in his life, and the young elf knew Erestor could never return the love that Lastar gave so freely. And so, he gave his own life to ensure Erestor’s happiness.
Erestor knew he should have been honest right from the very beginning, and confessed to Glorfindel about Lastar, but the memory of the pain of not having the elf lord in his life was still too new. He was terrified that he would lose Fin again, and he couldn’t stand the thought. So, Erestor buried the memories, and tried to cope as best he could. He’d told himself that if Glorfindel ever asked him directly, he would tell the whole story, but the safety in this plan was knowing that Fin had no reason to ask. Lastar was gone, and Erestor and Glorfindel had moved on, reestablishing their relationship. Life was good, he told himself. No need to conjure up the past and open old wounds.
Erestor shook himself from his thoughts, and continued looking for a treat for Léra. “I know there has to be something around here,” Erestor said to himself. “Fin always leaves a bit of dried meat in the house.” He laughed to himself when he thought about that, all doubt and guilt dismissed. His heart beat loudly at the thought of his lover. Despite all that had happened, their love had survived and their commitment was solid now.
“Ah, here it is,” Erestor said, finding the meat wrapped in a bundle. He took out a strip and made his way back to his writing room only to be horrified by what he found. It looked like it started with that damn rug again. Léra must have decided to play tug of war with it and in the process, she bumped into one of the bookshelves, upsetting one of the shelves. Books lay scattered, some opened with their pages exposed, other’s lying face down. Some of the pages were ripped from where she carelessly stepped on them. One book had teeth marks on the binding. Obviously Léra thought she’d try chewing on it, but stopped when she had to relieve herself on the next book. Erestor’s eyes traveled along the path of destruction until they came to rest on Léra, standing across the room at the end of the trail. And in her mouth were the Dale documents that he’d just traded for. He could just make out the title at the top of one of the pages, ‘Pertaining to the Black Arrow’.
“Drop that, you mangy mutt!” Erestor demanded.
Léra simply wagged her tail, thinking that they were engaging in a game. When Erestor took a step towards her, she jerked to the side, ready to flee. “I’m not playing games!” Erestor said angrily. He started towards her again, and she shook her head violently. The bottom half of the first page fell from her mouth.
“No!” Erestor screamed. Léra took off like a flash, her nails tearing at the exposed pages of the books laying on the floor. Erestor chased her out of the writing room, and searched the house until he found her standing in the middle of his bed, bits of paper scattered all over the blanket. She was chewing frantically, as though trying to destroy any evidence of her bad behavior.
“Not my documents, you pitiful excuse for a pet!” he shouted. “Those are one of a kind accounts of the destruction of Dale. They are rare. They are priceless.” He slumped his shoulders in defeat. “And now they are in your belly.” He lifted his eyes, now shooting daggers at the dog, anger building with every breath. “That’s it. I’ve had it with you. I’ve given you all my attention. I’ve spent many sleepless nights waiting on you. I’ve set aside my love life for you, and you bring me nothing but grief.”
Erestor stood up straight and slowly approached the bed. Léra knew that he was angry with her, and she did not try to run this time. Instead, she laid down on the bed, ears pinned back and eyes drooping with submission. Erestor mocked Glorfindel. “You need something to take care of, he said. You are good at it, he said.” He grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and pulled her from the bed. “Out of my room. Out of my house.” He dragged Léra through the house, opened the front door and pushed her out. “Go! Get out!”
Léra backed away from the doorway, ears down and tail tucked beneath her. She gave Erestor one last pitiful look, and for a miniscule moment, he felt bad, until he thought of the documents laying in shreds upon his bed. “You’ll sleep outside. Go on! Get!” Then he slammed the door and walked back to take care of the mess, cursing the day he first met the pup, cursing Glorfindel and his hair brained ideas.
He gathered up the scraps of paper and put them in a bowl. Perhaps he could piece them back together, at least enough so that he could make a written copy. Why didn’t he make a copy to begin with, he berated himself. Erestor always made sure to make a copy of anything that he only had one of, in case something like this ever happened. The original document was always best to have and it could never be replaced, but a copy ensured that the information would never be lost. Any good scribe was sure to do the same thing. And perhaps if he hadn’t been distracted by raising a puppy, he might have made sure to do this with the priceless Dale documents.
Any good scribe, he thought again. Oswin was not just a bookstore owner, he’d been a scribe once himself. “Maybe he has a written copy,” Erestor said aloud. He must go back to Bree and ask him, but he didn’t want to leave before Glorfindel came home. If Fin had business there, which he often did, then he might want to go together. While he thought about this, he could have sworn he heard Léra whimpering outside beneath his window, but when he looked at the street below, it was empty and the dog was gone. Erestor fought back the guilt that tried to enter his head. “She started out on the streets. She’ll be fine for the night,” he justified, snuffing out the regret that started snaking its way into his heart. “I’ll let her back in by morning.” But he wouldn’t find her the next morning.
* * *
As a matter of fact, a couple weeks had gone by, and there’d been no sign of Léra since he threw her out of the house. He remembered Glorfindel telling him how the pup had wandered away from her original family in Bree. She was a determined little thing, but not so little anymore, he reminded himself. She’d lost her mother just after being weaned, so she was used to being on her own. Even the boy who had found the litter had a difficult time keeping track of Léra. “I didn’t think she’d disappear though,” he said. “I hope she’s alright. Then again, a dog like that never stays in one place for very long.” This made him think of Glorfindel. The elf lord hadn’t been much different once, always on the move, never staying in one city for too long, even the city he called home, Rivendell. It wasn’t until he met Erestor that he changed his wandering ways and finally settled down. Erestor sighed and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake with Léra.
A letter came for him, from Lothlórien. Without breaking the wax seal, Erestor already knew it was from Glorfindel. “Let me see,” he said. “Things are taking longer than he thought and he has to stay a while longer.” He opened the letter and read, laughing to himself. “Just as I thought.” He set the letter down on his office desk and looked around. “Well, I could send correspondence to Oswin and ask him if he has a copy of the documents, but Glorfindel might be home by the time I receive a response. It’s not all that far to Bree. I could just go there and ask him in person. It would be good to see the little old bookkeeper again. Perhaps that’s what I’ll do.”
Erestor exited his office and searched the library until he found Canyo, his assistant. “Things have been rather quiet around here. Would you mind if I left you in charge for a while?”
“Not at all,” Canyo smiled. “Going somewhere?”
“To Bree, actually. Glorfindel won’t be back for a while yet, and I’ve some business to attend to there.”
“Who will you be going with?” Canyo asked curiously.
“No one. I won’t be long so there’s no need to uproot someone just for the company,” Erestor said.
“Well, you be very careful then,” Canyo advised with concern. “Just because we are into the Peaceful Days does not mean that all dangers have disappeared. There are wild animals upon the path, and not a few thieves either. Maybe if you asked one of the twins to accompany you–”
“Nonsense, Canyo. I believe I shall be just fine. It’s not far and I’ll not be there long.”
“Suit yourself, but stay cautious.”
Erestor smiled and patted Canyo on the shoulder. “I appreciate your concern.”
His bags packed and adorning his riding clothes, and of course the boots that Glorfindel gifted him a while ago, Erestor headed to the stables. The stable hand brought his horse out and helped secure the bags in place. The horse, a mature brown mare with a blond mane, was new to Erestor. He’d only had her for a few months and they were still getting used to each other. The man Erestor bought her from said she was excellent at traveling long distances. She did not tire easy. Erestor trusted this to be true, though he felt there was something the man was not telling him. Still, he’d had no trouble with her, and he’d ridden her a lot so that the horse would learn to gain his trust, and his trust for her too. Only once did she give him a slight scare when he brought Léra with him to the stable. He wanted the pup to get used to being around horses, hoping that Glorfindel would eventually bring her along on hunting trips. The dog seemed a bit leery at first, which was only natural, but the horse whinnied and nickered in a threatened tone. Erestor didn’t think much about it at the time. The horse was not used to dogs it seemed, but that was alright. It was Erestor’s horse anyways, and he usually did not accompany Glorfindel on his extensive hunting trips.
As his thoughts went out to Léra, he felt a pang of guilt, and hoped she was alright. Had she found a new home by now or was she living in the wilds? He began to fret the latter. “Maybe I was a bit hasty after all. I should not have put her out, but I was just so angry at the time.” He’d never had a pet before. The only animals he’d ever owned were horses, and they weren’t pets. Besides, the stable hands dealt with them, not Erestor. And the only dogs he’d ever seen lived in barns or wandered the streets of human villages. No one brought them into their homes. So perhaps Léra was fine on her own. Perhaps it was natural for her. Perhaps he still felt guilty. Erestor sighed and decided to keep his eyes and ears open for any sign of the dog. He regretted his decision, and found himself worrying more.
* * *
It was only a few days journey to Bree, and the first two nights were uneventful. Erestor made due with his food rations and slept beneath the stars. It was quite peaceful to be alone for a change, though in his heart he missed Glorfindel terribly. Things had been good between them, maybe a little too well. They’d had no arguments, not like they used to have. He supposed that after everything they’d been through, there wasn’t much else to discover, outside of the small things, but those were always fun and interesting. The bigger issues had all been dealt with. Their past lives had been discussed and were out in the open. Any unfinished business had found closure. Glorfindel made amends with his past, as well as Erestor. All was well, he lied to himself.
As Erestor laid on his bedroll and stared up at the stars overhead, his thoughts drifted to that unfortunate incident, when he and Glorfindel had their falling out. It all started when Glorfindel discovered that Astarion, someone from his past in Gondolin, was still alive and imprisoned after all these long centuries by the Nazgûl. Neither Fin nor Erestor were in their right mind at the time, having been affected, themselves, by the Nazgûl’s black magic. After freeing Astarion, Fin thought he could save the elf’s lost soul, and Erestor was sure he couldn’t. It broke them apart and almost destroyed everything they felt for each other.
Again, Lastar entered Erestor’s mind. Why? “Leave me be, Lastar. You are gone now. I have Glorfindel back. I can’t … I won’t do anything to damage that. I will not risk losing him. He never needs to know what happened between us.”
A light wind blew across his campsite, and Erestor felt the vestiges of his ghostly remorse disperse. This would be his last night on the road. Tomorrow he would reach Bree, and then he’d speak with Oswin about replacement of the ruined documents. Then he would return to Rivendell, and hopefully find Glorfindel returned from Lothlórien. He could get back to his peaceful life, and never again think about his past.
“I should have made a copy,” he mumbled to himself as he drifted into elvish dreams, the mind of a counselor always working.
* * *
Erestor awoke to the distant sound of wolves howling. He sat up and looked through the darkness, but all he could see were trees lining the road to his right, and the land sloping down to a creek at his left. Erestor had made camp just inside the small stand of trees, not wanting to be too far from the road. His fire had died to nothing but smoldering embers, and his horse whickered nervously where he’d tied her up. Erestor stood and walked a little ways into the forest, relieving himself on several trees. He’d heard that this was a deterrent to keep wild animals away. Glorfindel laughed when Erestor shared his knowledge, and told him that someone had given him false information. The only thing that kept wolves away, Fin had said, was a bow and arrows.
He returned to his camp and started to stoke the fire when his horse started nickering and stomping her feet. Making no sudden moves, Erestor abandoned the fire, slowly stood and walked over to his horse. He spoke calming elvish while he ran a gentle hand along her side. She stopped her fussing, but her muscles were still taut. Danger was definitely near.
“Alright now, old girl,” he said easily. “We’re just going to be on our way.” He mounted the horse as he spoke to her, wrapped his fingers in her golden mane and started to give her the next command, when suddenly all Mordor broke lose.
Out of the darkness, their silver eyes glowed. Erestor could barely make out their dark shapes emerging from the forest. Wolves. They’d been there for a while, he thought, planning their attack. They would assault an individual, but they were cautious of the horse. This was Erestor’s only sense of security. He’d not brought a bow, but he had Aicalango, his sword. Still, he didn’t want to get that close to the wolves. It was better to leave the camp and the wolves behind. He was sure that they would not follow. And his horse was his assurance that they would not try anything.
Or so he thought . . .
Erestor gave the command for the horse to go, but she froze as though her legs were stuck in quicksand. He commanded it of her again and was met with resistance. Now it was beginning to dawn on him, the reason he’d felt slighted by the horse seller. She was terrified of canines. The signs were there when she became nervous at the sight of gentle Léra, but he hadn’t paid attention. The horse’s natural instinct to run was not there. Terror of the wolves had caused her to become immobile. Next, Erestor thought, would be panic. He had to get her out of there or she might throw him. Then he would be in danger of being trampled.
Erestor nudged the horse hard in the ribs to gain her attention. She bobbed her head in annoyance, and he clicked his tongue and aimed her towards the creek opposite of the forest. Water might slow down the advancement of the wolves, long enough for Erestor’s horse to come to her senses and make for Bree. She responded to his calming voice and let the elf lead her across the road and down the sloping land towards the creek. They made it, and he directed the mare into the shallow creek bed. It was wide enough to keep the wolves at bay until they figured out that it was not very deep.
Erestor took a moment to get his bearings straight, and saw that the wolves had followed him. They padded closer to the edge of the creek, eyes steady on him. One wolf raised its head to the sky and let out a hair-raising howl. Instantly, the sound of more wolves came from the opposite side of the creek, and Erestor was surrounded with nothing but the shallow water keeping them back.
The horse threw her head up and down, and snorted uncomfortably. One foot began pawing at the water, and then she was stomping with nervousness. Erestor raised the tone of his voice and commanded that she calm, but it did no good. The horse was deaf to his demands. Her only focus was to escape the wolf pack. She swiveled back and forth, trying to keep her eyes on the danger that surrounded them. Erestor tried to get her to follow the creek, but she would not leave the spot where she stood.
One of the wolves darted forward to the edge of the water. The horse bounced, lifting her front feet off the ground. Another wolf performed the same move and the horse kicked her hind quarters. The wolves were toying with her, trying to force her to throw her rider. Erestor realized that it was not the horse they were after, just him. But as long as he could stay atop his mare, he might have a chance.
No sooner did that thought brush his mind that his untrusting steed rose high up on her hind legs. Erestor dug his heels into her sides and grasped her mane. He had to hold on. She set her front feet back into the creek. He’d managed to stay upon his horse this time, but the wolves were surrounding them. The only open avenue was the creek itself. He yelled for the horse to go forward, but it was no use. She would not budge from her spot. Damn that horse trader, he cursed under his breath. The mare might be good at traveling long distances, only if there was no danger of wolves. Little good that did. There were always wolves about, though Erestor had never seen any as aggressive as this pack.
There was a howl and a splash, and suddenly, the pack leader was standing before them in the middle of the creek. Too late now, Erestor said to himself. They finally figured out that the water was not deep. The horse, terrified by the sight of the large grey beast before her, lost her senses and reared up on her hind quarters again. Erestor tried with all his elvish might to hang on, but he couldn’t, not at this angle. He fell from high up, and landed flat on his back. The middle of his spine cracked as he felt the sharp jolt from falling on a large rock. Pain shot down his right leg and he cried out. That was the least of his fears at the moment, when he realized he was looking up at the belly of his horse. She was stomping and kicking, water splashing, making it hard for Erestor to see. That’s when a flash of silver caught his eye. Aicalango hung from one of his bags, the edge of the hilt caught in the burlap. It must have snagged on the sack as he fell from the horse. That sword was his only means of defense, and if the horse took off, he’d be without any weapon. Ignoring the pain in his back, Erestor struggled to stand, but he couldn’t while beneath the terrified horse. One large hoof came forward, almost kicking him in the chest, but he rolled out of the way. Erestor now had to concentrate on the horses movements until he could get out from under her. Then he needed to free his sword and with any luck, get back on his horse. The mare was the only thing between him and the wolf pack, but a moment longer and the horse would be gone. Either that or he would be trampled, left as an easy meal for the wolves.
He managed to get himself into a crouching position and moved along with the horses steps, keeping a close eye on her legs. Like dancing with a directionless partner, Erestor jumped and dodged until he saw his chance to get out from beneath her. Aicalango hung down right at arm’s length. In one swift movement, Erestor rolled out from underneath the mare, but the sharp edge of her hoof caught him across the cheek. He cried out, but kept his concentration on his sword. He reached up, grabbed the hilt and pulled it free of the sack. It ripped open, spilling its content into the creek. Luckily, he had nothing of value with him, and that bag had carried his food rations. Dried meat and lembas floated in the light current. An untimely laugh bubbled up in his throat at the sight of the dried meat. Glorfindel.
Erestor tried to get back onto his horse, but her movements were too erratic. He looked around to see if there was a place he could get to, where, if he had to fight off the wolves, he could at least get his back up against something. Fighting a pack of hungry animals from all sides was not ideal. He couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Right now, the only thing he had to use as shelter was his horse, and she was not going to stay much longer. Barks, growls, howling and snarling, the wolves were closing in, trying to make the horse run. They were getting anxious, and Erestor realized why. He looked down and saw the blood on his shirt. The cut on his cheek bled profusely, and the iron tinge in the air roused the wolf pack. Injured prey, Erestor thought of himself. Well, not so injured that he couldn’t use his sword.
And then it finally happened. The horrified mare saw her opportunity and shot off down the creek before flanking to the right and darting into the trees. His only protection was gone. Erestor stood alone in the water, wolves on every side of him, baring white fangs as they drooled with hunger. They slowly stepped towards him, graceful even when they were about to kill.
Erestor lifted his sword into position. Would they all pounce on him at once, or one at a time, he wondered. Something pulled at the back of his tunic, and he spun around, his sword striking air. A wolf was backing away just before being caught by the blade. They were playing with him before they killed him, and he realized that this was a young pack, and the leader was teaching them to hunt. The morbid thought actually eased Erestor’s mind. They were not seasoned animals. He might have a chance.
In the midst of everything, Erestor hadn’t taken inventory of his aggressors. He counted seven including the leader. Young or not, he was outnumbered, but if it was a fight they wanted, so be it. And that’s when the first one struck, the pinching of teeth felt through his riding boot. Erestor spun and swung his sword, the tip just catching the first wolf. Not enough to do any damage, but enough so that this particular beast heightened his cautiousness. The others still had to learn, and Erestor was not thrilled about being their example.
“Come on then, who’s next?” he called, looking left and right, turning to see who was behind him. When he came forward, another one was standing before him, lips curled back so that its white fangs were showing. It leapt at Erestor, and he brought his sword forward, slicing the animal’s side. It yelped and fell back with the others. Next, two wolves approached him together, finding safety in numbers. The first one darted towards him in a grey blur. Erestor defended him off, but the second one got a hold of his free arm. His sword impaled the first wolf and it fell limp, splashing into the creek at his feet. Then he kicked the second animal in its chest, and it released his arm. Erestor wished he’d worn his bracers, but there had been no reason to travel in any kind of armor. A quick observation found blood seeping through the white cloth of his sleeve. The bite marks had been deep, though his adrenaline kept the pain at bay.
Suddenly, he was hit from the back. He could feel the imprint of two large paws close to his injured spine. Searing pain shot down his leg again, and he fell. Lying face up in the creek, he was now fighting for his life. A wolf would approach and he’d slice through the air. Sometimes he caught flesh and sometimes not, but he found that hidden elvish strength that all warrior mustered when their eternity was at stake. Three wolves lay dead. He was winning. But that small piece of overconfidence cost him as the next wave of beasts attacked. The last three youths played unfair, taking turns distracting Erestor while the others snapped and bit at his flesh. Jaws clamped down on his thigh and shook violently as he thrust his sword at a different animal. Then his arm was being treated the same way. If anyone ever wondered what it was like to be eaten alive, this must be it, he thought.
The torture went on for what seemed like hours, though it must have only been moments. Erestor had bite marks on one thigh, both arms and his shoulder. He was losing his strength with each attack, though he still managed to retaliate with his sword, catching one of his attackers with a good slice that sent the beast away whimpering. It wasn’t dead, but at least it was injured. Only two to contend with now. Unfortunately, with that last swing, Aicalango had fallen from his hand. He had to get his sword back.
No sooner had that thought appeared, when there came an awful snarling growl. The two young wolves snapped back at the larger, more aggressive animal, forgetting their standing in the pack. The alpha latched on to one of their necks and shook until the youth cried out and slunk away. The other followed suit, not wanting to upset their leader. She was enormous compared to the others. Her eyes were filled with hunger and rage, teeth gleaning white where her furry lips folded back. A ridge of grey hair stood up on her back, from neck to tail, and her growl would have frightened the greatest of trolls. She was done with the training exercise, and after letting the young ones wear down their prey, she was ready to put an end to Erestor’s life and finally have her feast.
Erestor looked over his shoulder and eyed his sword. He couldn’t reach it from this position, so he started edging backward, pushing with his feet, but his boots slipped on the moss covered rocks. He checked on the alpha wolf and she was still advancing, slow and methodically. She could pounce at any moment, but she seemed to want to let Erestor try for his sword. He knew she wouldn’t let him, so he planned his next move carefully.
And then it happened. The wolf lunged towards him, sailing through the air. Erestor grabbed a large rock on the creek bed and used it for leverage, rolling out of the way. The wolf landed in the water with a splash, and for a moment Erestor was blind. While the animal was getting to her feet, Erestor flipped over onto his hands and knees and jumped towards his sword. His fingers touched the hilt, and then he was hit in the back, forced face down into the water. Sharp teeth dug into the flesh of is outstretched arm and he lost his grip on the sword. With all his might, he rolled over to face his attacker. The wolf released his arm and clamped down on his shoulder. White hot shards of pain darted through his arm and he cried out. His free hand punched the wolf in the head, but it did not faze her at all. He punched again and she released him, more from anger than injury. She bared her teeth as she glared at his face. Her lips drew back, saliva dripping from her mouth as it slowly opened. Her vicious growl sent chills down Erestor’s aching spine. Then she went for his throat, but Erestor reached up, grabbed the sides of her head and locked his elbows. He didn’t know how long he could hold her off. She pushed and snapped at his face. Erestor’s arms were weakening. As soon as he let go, she would grab him by the throat. And just as he thought he could not hold on any longer, something slammed into the side of the pack leader, knocking her from Erestor. Not wasting any time, he scrambled onto his knees and retrieved Aicalango. He glanced briefly at the wolf, who was fighting with another animal. Erestor thought it was one of the younger ones, but the two that were left were now coming for him. He forgot about the pack leader for the moment and focused on the remaining beasts. As they flung themselves at him, he secured his sword with both hands and brought it up, slicing through the attacking animals. It was the last of his strength, and when he was sure they were dead, Erestor fell to his knees. On the far side of the creek, the alpha still fought with something. They changed positions, the wolf pinned to the ground at the edge of the creek, and then all movement ceased. Blood pooled in the mud and the creek water lapped at the two bodies. The wet fur was unrecognizable, as both animals were wet and covered in mud and blood. Erestor crawled to them, and finally saw who his rescuer was.
“Léra?” he said, baffled. He could barely identify her. Her hair was matted with mud.
Erestor looked at the wolf. There were large puncture wounds in her neck, hair and skin torn away and blood oozed from the fatal wound. Then he realized that Léra wasn’t moving either. He dropped his sword and collapsed next to the dog. His hand rested on her side, and her chest moved. She was still alive, but for how long he didn’t know.
“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” he asked. Léra gave a whimper and raised her head. But she laid back down again, no strength left.
Erestor was shocked to see her, to see her befouled matted hair, and her poor condition. The guilt he’d kept at bay released itself, and he shed a tear for the mangy mutt. He felt ridiculous crying for a dog, but it was because of him that she was out here in the wilds instead of at home with a comfortable bed and plenty of food. So she’d destroyed some personal items, and some things that were priceless and irreplaceable, but was that really a reason to throw her out? And now here she was, dying and dirty. He’d been mean to her, yelled at her countless times, threw her onto the streets, and yet she risked her life to save him. It could only be an act of the Valar that she was here in his time of need. Canyo had warned Erestor not to go to Bree alone, and he thought lightly of it. If it weren’t for Léra, he might have succumbed to the wolf. The searing pain in his leg, shoulder and arm told him he might still succumb. He decided that nothing hurt worse than to be mauled by an animal. The puncture wounds went all the way through tendons and muscles, touching bones.
His horse was long gone, and he was alone. Léra was too far gone to be of any more help. All Erestor could do now was to pray that someone would find him as his body gave way to the need for healing sleep. Should no one come, then this might be his end too.
“Blessed Valar, help me,” he whispered, and then lost consciousness.
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A Price for Peace