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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5

The last thing Erestor remembered was the scent of earth and blood, the sound of wolves snarling, and a blur of hair and teeth. He’d been in severe pain, and his memory blocked out anything else that might have happened after that. As far as he knew, it just happened, though it could have been minutes, hours or days since then. He blinked his eyes against the brightness of the light, adjusting his vision until he saw that he was laying on the forest floor. The air smelled clean and fresh, like early spring after a morning rain. Something surrounded him. Ferns, their bright green fronds extending towards the sun. He was in a fern forest, but it wasn’t the last place he remembered being. That had been . . .
“The creek,” he said aloud. “There was a creek.” But he heard no sound of water. “And there had been pain, a lot of pain.”
He examined his arms, expecting to find wounds, and noticed that he was dressed in white robes, spotless and clean, smelling freshly laundered. Erestor sat up and looked around the area. “Where am I?”
Sitting up had made his head pound, and with it, flashes of violence and blood. He could feel the weight of Aicalango in his hand, and felt the brush of fur against his arms. His breath quickened as he remembered where he’d been before this. “Wolves,” he said, panicked. Were they still about? His arm reached out and he felt the ground around him, searching for his sword. He could almost feel the hot fetid breath of his attacker on his neck, and was sure that something was behind him. With the speed of a feline, he jumped to his feet and spun around, his fingers curled like claws, his only form of defense. Erestor twisted and turned, eyes scanning the surrounding area for the beasts that assaulted him and his horse. Then he remembered the horse running off, leaving him open to the attack. It had happened at a creek while making his way to . . .
“Bree,” he said. But this was not Bree, and there was no forest like this one between Rivendell and there. Had he been dragged off by the wolves? He thought irrationally. Then he looked at his clothes again. “Where did these come from?” They were not his riding clothes. He took a step forward and noticed that even his boots were white, and he wondered where his riding boots were. They had been a gift from Glorfindel. He could not lose them.
Erestor walked out of the fern covered forest and found a worn path, possibly made by deer or some other animal. It was too winding to be made by the elves. He followed it, hoping to find a familiar place, but the area still looked strange. Soon, he heard the sound of rushing water, and thought he’d found the creek, though none of this looked right. He hurried along the path, following the sound and came to an outcrop of rocks. When he turned the corner, he found that the water he was following was not the creek where he’d been, but a vast ocean. The sound of running water changed to waves lapping at the shore. Erestor was thoroughly confused. There was no ocean anywhere close to where he’d been.
He glanced out over the water and saw a shape bobbing in the distance. Erestor squint his eyes and tried to make it out, but it was too far away. “Where am I?” he asked himself, looking back at the land. There was nothing there. Even the rock formation had disappeared. When he turned back to the sea, the shape he’d seen was twice as close as before. “How did that move so fast?” he said confused. At least now he could see that it was a small boat. It looked too small to be out on the sea. The waves looked dangerously big, swelling with each one that traveled to the shore. Erestor felt water on his feet, and looked down to find that he was standing knee deep in the waves, where before he was standing on sand. He looked up again, and the small white boat had run ashore to his left. Erestor shook his head. “That isn’t possible. It had just been way out there and–”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around reaching down for a sword that was no longer at his side. Then he nearly fainted at the site he saw.
He was ethereal beauty, glowing with iridescent light surrounding him, almost blinding the counselor. He shined so brightly that Erestor could hardly see his face, yet he seemed familiar. “Who are you?” Erestor asked. The light dimmed and Erestor gasped, stumbling backwards with shock. That face, that smile was unforgettable.
“Hello, Erestor,” he said.
“Lastar,” Erestor said with astonishment. “But it can’t be. You … you died.”
“Yes, but I’ve been sent to meet you here.” His voice seemed strange, far away even though he was standing right in front of Erestor.
“Where is here? This is not Rivendell or Bree, or anywhere in between.”
“This is the edge of consciousness, Erestor.”
“I … I don’t understand.”
“I see you have been badly wounded,” Lastar said, brows creasing as he looked at Erestor’s neck and arms.
Erestor looked down and he was no longer dressed in the pure white robes. He was once again wearing his riding clothes, only now they were tattered and torn, stained with dirt and blood. Where the material was ripped, he could see his wounds, deep gashes and bite marks, flesh reddened and swollen with the threat of infection. The pain came back instantly, and Erestor dropped to his knees in the shallow tide. A tear escaped the corner of his eye as he looked at his injuries.
“I was hunted by a pack of wolves. They chased my horse away and then they attacked me. But I thought I’d killed them. I thought I–”
“You did kill them and you survived, but at a great cost. Your healer has treated you and thinks you will recover, but he has not considered your soul,” Lastar said.
“My soul? But what does that have to do with–” Erestor paused, realization taking over. Then he looked to Lastar’s flawless face. “Have I broken some kind of rule or something? Am I being punished?”
Lastar smiled sweetly. “Dear Erestor, this is no punishment. You have put yourself here, for the guilt you carry has been a heavy burden.”
“Guilt?”
“Look deep, Counselor. Some things have not been resolved, and you suffer because of that.”
“This has everything to do with that night at the waterfall,” Erestor said, hanging his head. “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I? I knew I should never have given in.” He reached for Lastar’s hands. He could see them in his own, but he couldn’t feel anything but air. The sensation shocked Erestor. “Are you not real?”
“I am real, but I come to you in my earthly form, for this is how you remember me. Within Mandos Hall, I am nothing more than a speck of light, a soul awaiting my trial.” Lastar lifted Erestor to his feet and looked him in the eyes. “I knew what would happen to you in the forest. I saw your fate already woven into Vairë’s tapestry. I knew you would fight the wolves, and I knew you would fall, but it had been too late. Your fate was already in motion. I watched and I begged them to give you strength. I told them that it was not your time yet. They met me with resistance, but I would not succumb to them. And just before it was to be your end, the Doomsman appeared and asked me why. Why did I interfere with the weavings? My explanations were not a good enough reason, but when I told him how your death would affect others, he gave me his attention.”
“Glorfindel?” Erestor questioned. He was the only person who could be deeply affected by Erestor’s death.
“He is well known here. He spent time within the Halls. It was Námo who sent him back to earth to complete his purpose.” Lastar floated towards Erestor, his opaque hands cupping the counselors face. “It was you all along, Erestor. You are the answer to Glorfindel’s inquiries as to why he was sent back. First, he had to face the guilt he compiled over his re-embodiment. Only when he had come to terms with his existence could he open his heart completely, and you are his reward. But your fate was written long before either of you knew who the other was. Now it is your turn, Erestor. You must face your own guilt and choose. That is the Doomsman’s terms. But know that your choice, whichever it will be, shall come with a price.”
“And if I choose to succumb to my injuries?” Erestor asked.
“Námo will accept you into his Halls,” Lastar said. “There you will await trial of your soul.”
Erestor knew what this meant. The Halls of Mandos would be his eternity if that was to be his fate. The Doomsman did not grant leave to many in his company.
“But know this,” Lastar continued. “Glorfindel will also succumb to his sorrow, and those who fade shall spend eternity in Valinor. There is no guarantee that you will ever join him there.”
“Then I choose to live,” Erestor decided. He could not stand the thought of never seeing Glorfindel again. It would be torturous.
“That you may do, Counselor, but you must confess the truth to Glorfindel about–” Lastar released Erestor and turned from him. “You must tell him about our night together and let him make his own decision.”
“But I … I can’t,” Erestor whispered.
“You must,” Lastar answered and rounded on the counselor. “When Námo gave you a second chance, he forbade Vairë to remove your life story from her tapestry. If you awake and say nothing to Glorfindel, a different ending will be written for you. You will still die. You will never have hope of leaving Mandos Halls. You’ll never see Glorfindel again. Your sorrow will be great.” Lastar took up Erestor’s hands, his eyes fastening on the counselor’s. “Put your faith in the truth. Trust that all will be well. If this love you share with Glorfindel is as timeless as you say, then he will forgive you, but you cannot continue to carry the burden. You know as well as I that there can be no more secrets.”
Erestor looked away and nodded. Yes, he had known this for a long time now, but he chose to ignore it and move on. “It didn’t seem like a secret since it was only one night, and you are … not there anymore.”
“Am I not still in your heart, if only just a piece of it?” Lastar asked, his smooth voice echoing in Erestor’s mind.
“You are, Lastar.”
“And I said that I’d always be there for you.”
“Even in death, it seems,” Erestor said, and he brought his attention to the ghostly vision again. “Is this your punishment? Is it a test?”
“What do you mean?” Lastar asked.
“Your reason for being here. Why were you sent to deliver this message and not someone else?” Erestor looked away when he thought he heard something.
“It is my price for asking Námo to spare you,” Lastar answered.
Erestor smiled but sadly. “I do miss you Lastar.” He started to turn away, but stopped. “Can you tell me one more thing?” Lastar nodded and Erestor went on. “What did Námo do to change my fate?”
Lastar laughed with a huff. “He sent the dog, of course.”
“Léra?” Erestor said confused, and then he heard something and looked away to see what it was. When he looked back, Lastar was floating out to sea in the white boat. “Lastar, where are you going? Lastar! Wait! How do I get back? Lastar! Lastar!” It was too late. He slowly faded from sight and the ocean was once again vast and empty.
Then there was a distant voice coming from the fern covered forest. Hadn’t he been surrounded by sand? He could have sworn . . . Or had the trees been there all this time? Erestor wondered. He heard the voice again and listened carefully.
“Come back to me, Meldanya,” Glorfindel’s ethereal voice said. “Wherever you are, remember that you are mine.”
The sound of waves was gone and Erestor was no longer standing in water. The green ferns surrounded his feet. He was deep inside the forest once more.
Erestor looked down at his clothes, and he was once again dressed in the pristine white robes, but blood from his wounds seeped through the material and spread up his arms and down his thighs. “I don’t think it is time to wake yet, but I’ll take this time to make my decision.” It didn’t seem like there was much to think about. He wanted to live and he wanted to be with Fin. But would Fin still want him after he told him about the night he’d spent with Lastar behind the waterfall? What would happen to him if the elf lord rejected him? It might still cost him a trip to Mandos Halls. On the other hand, his conscience would be clear. Ai, what a price to have to pay, he thought as he laid down in the ferns and went to sleep.
* * *
Glorfindel lightly slept in the chair next to where Erestor lay. He had been in Bree for three days now. It had been two weeks since the attack, and Erestor still hadn’t awakened. He felt it would be soon though. Erestor stirred more often, a sign that he was coming to the end of his healing sleep.
The doctor had been more than generous in allowing Glorfindel to stay in his home. The girls had gotten to know the elf better, and he found that he was rather fond on them also. He would tell them stories from his days in Gondolin, and they would sit and listen for as long as he talked, eyes wide with wonder as they soaked up every detail and recorded it to memory. Glorfindel could see why humans passed down their history through spoken words more often than written ones. The children were the future storytellers. They were like sponges absorbing every bit of information, drawing pictures in their minds. One day they would grow up and tell their own children, and the histories of Men would live on from one generation to the next. Perhaps they would tell Glorfindel’s stories now. He smiled at the thought.
The sun was rising, the last vestiges of darkness giving way to light. Glorfindel opened his eyes and watched Erestor from his chair. By the gods, he was lovely when he slept. He hadn’t told Erestor, but Glorfindel had sketched him sleeping a few times. Drawing was his favorite pastime, and Erestor was the perfect subject. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told the counselor or showed him the drawings. Perhaps Fin wanted to keep these quiet peaceful times for himself while Erestor was lost to dreams. What was he dreaming of now, Fin wondered.
There was a soft tap on the door and Madock came in. “How’s my patient?”
“Restful,” Glorfindel said, getting up from the chair.
Madock went to the bed, pulled back the covers and began unwrapping the bandages. He found little blood on them, a good sign that the deep wounds were coming along nicely. “Nothing is worse than animal bites. They are the longest to heal. I’d say Erestor is making remarkable progress though. I wish I could bottle whatever it is that helps the elves heal so fast. I’d be a rich man.”
Just then, Ella and Carys came in, hugged their father, kissed his cheeks, waved to Glorfindel and left. Fin smiled to Madock. “You already are a rich man.”
As the doctor finished putting clean bandages on, Erestor stirred and moaned. Glorfindel dashed to his side, placing his hand upon the counselor’s chest, over his heart. “Erestor,” he whispered. “I’m here, Meldanya.”
Erestor’s brows creased and his head lolled from one side of the pillow to the other. It looked like he was struggling to wake. His eyes beneath closed lids moved rapidly. He moaned as though trying to speak.
“Wake now, lovely.” Glorfindel encouraged. “It has been far too long since I’ve seen those hazel eyes.”
“F … F … Fin?” Erestor finally managed to say.
“Yes, I’m here, Erestor.”
“Glorfindel,” Erestor said. His eyes cracked open and blinked against the dim lantern light. “Fin,” he said again.
“Meldanya. Ai, Erestor how I’ve missed you.”
“Wh … where am I?”
“You are in a house in Bree. A doctor’s house to be precise,” Glorfindel informed him.
Erestor turned his head to the other side and saw a man standing by his bed. “Doctor?”
“I am Madock. Nice to finally meet you, Erestor.”
“How am I, master healer?”
The doctor laughed lightly. “Just Madock will do. You’re wounds are on the mend. I suspect you’ll be a bit sore and very weak, but you are doing just fine.”
Erestor turned back to Glorfindel. “Why are you not in Lothlórien?”
“What, and let you have all the fun? I think not,” Glorfindel chortled. He leaned down and kissed Erestor’s forehead. “I came as soon as I heard, and I’ve been waiting for you to wake. How do you feel, Meldanya?”
“I feel like shit, what do you think?” Erestor complained with an ill-tempered tongue.
“Well doctor, he sounds like his old self,” Glorfindel stated. He looked down at Erestor. “Mind telling me just what you were doing traveling to Bree without company?”
“I am not well enough to bandy with you,” Erestor said. “Now, help me sit up.”

Glorfindel took Erestor by the arm and helped him up while Madock added pillows behind him. Erestor winced from the slightest of movement. “Did someone use me as a practice dummy while I was asleep? Ai, my ribs are sore.”
“You’ve suffered some bruising from your misadventure,” Madock said. “Do you remember anything that happened?”
“I remember that damn horse throwing me, and landing on a rock in the creek bed. And the wolves scared my horse off, leaving me to defend myself. I swear, if I ever see that horse seller again–”
“What else do you remember?” Glorfindel asked to get Erestor back on the subject.
“I … I fought the wolves. Bastards were using me as a training tool,” Erestor complained. “Well, a lot of good that did them. I killed them, all but one, the pack leader. She came at me, went straight for my throat, but I held her off. My arms, I couldn’t hold out for much longer, and then there was a … there was a–” Erestor stopped himself as the memories came rushing back. He gasped. “Léra! She was there. She saved me. She jumped on the wolf, sending it flying from my chest. I was hurt badly, and could hardly move, but I managed to see Léra fighting with the pack leader. And then there was an awful noise, yelping and howling. I was sure she was dead, but she wasn’t. Léra killed the wolf, and she was still breathing and . . . Where is she? Is she alive?”
Glorfindel smoothed Erestor’s hair down. “She is fine. I’ve brought her here.”
Erestor forced himself to sit up further so he could look around the room. “I want to see for myself. Where is she?”
“She is about. But Erestor, you should know.” Glorfindel paused and sighed. “Her leg was badly injured, and she may always walk with a limp. She’ll never be able to hunt as you wished for her. But she is alive and well.”
Erestor released his breath and hung his head. “Thank the Valar she’s–” His words made him stop. The Valar, he thought to himself, and it all came flooding back … the fern forest, the ocean and the little white boat … Lastar. “Námo sent her to me,” he blurted out.
Glorfindel and Madock gave each other befuddled looks. Then they turned their attention back to Erestor. “Námo?” Glorfindel asked. He raised an ambiguous brow. “It seems you still need some time to come around. You know not of what you speak. Wasn’t Léra already with you?”
“No, Glorfindel, she wasn’t,” Erestor demanded. His words all came rushing out as the memories came back like a tidal wave. “You see, she destroyed the documents, and I threw her outside. Then she was gone, and I thought I’d come to Bree and see the bookkeeper, but the wolves . . . And then I awoke in the ferns, and there was an ocean and a boat, and then Lastar was there and–”
The mention of the name made Glorfindel stop him. “Wait, Lastar?”
“Yes, he came to me, and he told me that he saw me and the wolves, and he asked Námo to help me. It was to be my end. He said Vairë weaved my story long ago.” Erestor spoke with desperation to tell his strange story. He still hadn’t remembered all of it, but suddenly he remembered the most important part. He brought his hand up and covered his mouth, eyes full of fear and worry.
“What is it, Erestor? What happened?” Glorfindel asked him.
“I … I can’t remember. It’s still too fuzzy in my head.” But he did remember. He must tell Glorfindel about Lastar or go to Mandos Halls forever.
“Lie back down, Meldanya. You’ve only just awakened. Give it some time and it will come to you.” Glorfindel helped him get comfortable in the pillows while Madock looked on in amazement.
“How about some tea,” Madock offered, and Erestor nodded. The doctor left the elves to themselves.
Now that they were alone, Glorfindel leaned down and kissed Erestor, filling himself with the warmth of his lover’s touch. “By the gods, Erestor, I missed you something terrible. When I heard what happened, it was like a part of me was ripped away. And when I saw you lying here, so weak and frail, I was so scared. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”
“I’m sorry,” Erestor whispered as he looked away.
“What happened that you decided to come to Bree?” Glorfindel wanted to get to the bottom of it. He was tired of guessing.
Erestor proceeded to tell him, slowly this time, everything that happened that led up to this moment. He told Fin about Léra destroying the precious documents, and putting her outside as punishment, of how she disappeared and his guilt. Then he told Glorfindel about his plans to come to Bree and speak with Oswin about replacing the documents with a copy. Erestor told him that he waited, until Glorfindel sent the letter about his extended stay in Lothlórien, so he decided to go on his way … alone. He knew now that it was a foolish thing to do, but Glorfindel paused to reprimand him for his irrational thinking. That led Erestor to tell him about the wolves and the attack, but he did not go into much detail. It was still too soon to recall it, and Glorfindel did not push him.
Erestor skimmed over the part about his dreams. He was not ready to speak of it in full. He only gave the basic details of waking in the ferns, finding himself dressed in white, and of finding himself on the shore of an ocean. He talked about the boat and Lastar coming to him, but he did not say anything about their discussion, only that Lastar asked for Erestor’s life to be spared and it was.
When he was through, Glorfindel took a seat at the foot of the bed, and searched the plain white sheets for his next words. “Funny that you should mention Lastar, because you called out to him in your sleep.”
“I did?” Erestor seemed surprised by this.
“Yes, you called for him several times, and now you tell me that he came to you in dreams. Why?”
“Glorfindel, I … I can’t talk about this right now,” Erestor said, trying to buy himself a little more time.
“There is something you are not telling me, Erestor,” Glorfindel said. His tone gave him away. He would not let it rest until he had an answer. “Why would Lastar visit you if it wasn’t something important?”
“I told you already that it was to be my time, but Lastar intervened so that I might have a second chance.”
“You forget that I spent time in the Halls of Mandos. I know how things work there, and if Lastar risked coming to you with a message, then it had to be important.” Fin was having no more of Erestor’s games.
“Glorfindel, I … I cannot tell you right now. I’m so tired and the story is long. Please, allow me to recover first?” Erestor asked.
Fin’s eyes turned to slits as he regarded Erestor. “He tried to make you stay, didn’t he. He wanted you to follow him back to the Halls.”
“No, it was nothing like that. Listen, it was probably all just an illusion. You said the doctor gave me something for the pain. That’s probably why–”
Madock reentered the room, and the elves ceased their discussion. Glorfindel glared and whispered, “This conversation is not over.”
“Everything alright?” Madock asked, setting the tea tray on a table.
“Fine,” Erestor said with a smile. His eyes turned to Glorfindel, who was not smiling. For the next hour, Erestor found ways to make Madock stay so that he could take the time to get his thoughts together. How would he ever tell Fin about Lastar? Perhaps he would wait until they returned to Rivendell.
* * *
The next morning, Madock was changing Erestor’s bandages when he noticed that the bite marks on his left arm were looking a little redder than they had the day before. “Hmm,” he said while examining the wounds.
“What?” Erestor said worriedly, following the doctor’s line of sight. “Oh,” he said when he saw the red skin. “Is that normal?”
“If it had just happened a couple days ago, then yes, but we are almost three weeks from the day of the attack. If your wounds are turning red now, it can only mean that infection has set in down deep where I could not see it before.”
“Can’t you just put some extra salve on it and bandage it back up?” Erestor asked.
“If it looks like this now, on the surface, then that means it’s been festering in the deep tissue. Erestor, you could be in real trouble. I might have to cut away the infected tissue or muscle, and if it’s into the bone, which I pray it isn’t, then you could lose your arm.”
How was this possible? He was healing well. The wounds were looking clean. And now they were showing signs of infection? What had happened?
“Let me see something,” Madock said and unwrapped the bandages around Erestor’s thigh. He didn’t have to say anything. The look on the doctor’s face was enough for Erestor to figure out that it was not good news. Madock shook his head. “I don’t understand. You were almost completely healed, and now–”
The door to Erestor’s room opened, and Glorfindel strolled in with a tray of food for their breakfast. Right away he could tell something had happened. He dropped the tray on the table and rushed to the bed. “What is it?”
Madock shook his head with confusion. “I don’t understand it. He was healing.”
Glorfindel looked for himself and saw the angry welts around the puncture wounds on Erestor’s arm and thigh. “This makes no sense.”
But it made perfect sense to Erestor. It was Námo rewriting his death. Instead of succumbing to the wolves and dying in the woods, he was going to die here in the doctor’s home, unless he could find a way to explain to Glorfindel about–
“I thought I’d have more time,” Erestor said, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.
“Time for what?” Glorfindel asked.
Erestor turned his eyes towards Madock. “Could you give us some time alone? There is something I need to discuss with Lord Glorfindel.”
“Of course,” Madock said with a bow, and he left, closing the door behind him.
“Sit,” Erestor commanded, pointing to the chair, and Glorfindel sat.
“What’s this about?” Glorfindel asked cautiously.
“You were right. There was a reason for Lastar to come to me in healing dreams, and if I say nothing, it will be my end soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
Erestor swallowed the hard lump in his throat and came right out with it. “I slept with Lastar.”
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Price for Peace