Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

A Price for Peace	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2271 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
Chapter 7

Glorfindel entered the house, and stopped in the front foyer. Straight ahead, the hall led to the patient rooms. To the left, led to the main part of the house. He couldn’t decide which way to go, so he just stood there with his feet glued to the floor. The air smelled like someone had made fresh strawberry jam, and the scent of biscuits were just beginning to purl through his senses. Upstairs, where the bedrooms were, he heard the pounding of feet and giggles coming from the girl’s room, and the occasional bark from Léra. She seemed content with the doctor and his family. Glorfindel was glad he fetched her from Arwel, the man who found Erestor and treated the wounded dog.
He glanced again down the hall in front of him, and strained his ears to pick up any sound, but it was quiet. Fin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was time to face conflict and make his decision. The two days he’d spent wandering around Bree had only been a trace helpful to his damaged soul. Without someone to talk to, his thoughts were difficult to decipher. And there was no one to talk to about any of this besides the one whom it concerned.
Feet trampled down the stairs, sounding like a tiny army of soldiers, and Ella and Carys appeared with Léra at their heels.
“Glorfindel! You’re back!” Ella called with joy as she came skipping towards him. She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.
He ruffled her blond hair and smiled at the child. “Well now, I can’t say I’ve ever been greeted with such enthusiasm.”
She released the elf and patted Léra’s head, the dog standing next to her almost as tall as Ella. “We took good care of her while you were away, and we made sure to give her lots of food and attention.” Léra licked Glorfindel’s hand and whimpered in greeting, wagging her tail.
“Why don’t you take her outside?” Carys asked of Ella. “It’s been a while, and you know how she gets after we play with her.”
“Alright,” Ella said without argument. “Come, Léra,” she commanded, and the large dog followed the girl out the front door.
When they were gone, Carys approached Glorfindel and hugged him tightly. He got the feeling she wanted to greet him in private, or she wouldn’t have displayed her emotions as she did. “I’m glad you came back,” she whispered against his tunic.
Glorfindel got down on one knee so that Carys was now taller than him. He brushed a stray hair from her face and smiled. “Someone gave me some sound advice, and I took it to heart.” At that, she seemed to blush, but only slightly.
Carys looked down the hallway. “Papa’s with him, checking his wounds. He says they started healing again, the same day that you left. He’s not worried about infection anymore.”
“That is good, very good,” Fin replied. “And what about your sister? Did the nightmares return?”
“Actually, no,” Carys said with astonishment. “Léra sleeps on the floor by our bedroom door. Ella feels certain that nothing will get past her, and the nightmares have stopped.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Glorfindel got back to his feet and gazed down the hallway again.
“He’s been miserable since you left, and not from the wounds. Will you speak to him now?”
“Yes,” Glorfindel said, his voice distant. “It is time.”
Carys wasn’t sure what it was time for, to reconcile or go their separate ways. She hoped for the former. She liked Glorfindel tremendously, and she wanted to see him happy.
Glorfindel wrapped his fingers around the door handle and froze. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he went inside. The feeling of betrayal was still new, and he was afraid that looking at Erestor would conjure up images of him with Lastar. How could he ever feel secure in their relationship when Lastar’s apparition would always hover near, at least in Glorfindel’s mind?
He’d met danger face to face, killed more orcs and goblins than years he’d lived, slayed a Balrog, and none of those things were as difficult as turning the knob in his hand. He didn’t want to hate Erestor, but he was afraid that’s all he would feel when he saw him. He wouldn’t know until he did, and he opened the door.
Inside, Glorfindel found Madock sitting in the chair next to the bed. He focused on the doctor, trying with all his might not to look at the one lying in the bed. Madock looked surprised to see Fin, and he stood to offer the elf his seat. Glorfindel hesitated, staring at the chair. He couldn’t seem to make his legs work, except to dash back through the door he just entered. He stayed himself though, and concentrated on the chair, nothing else. Madock moved towards him, clapped a strong warrior hand on the elf’s shoulder in greeting and left. Glorfindel wished he hadn’t gone. He didn’t want to be alone with Erestor just yet, but he knew that they must.
He forced his eyes to look to the bed, but no further than the end of it, where he could safely look at the sheets. Then they traveled cautiously up the bed, discovering the shape of the elf that laid beneath them, and he realized that Erestor was laying on his side, facing away from the chair. Strands of ebony hair spilled over his pillow, and Glorfindel was reminded of the mornings he would awake to face his lover. After all, Erestor’s sleeping form had always brought him comfort and joy to look at.
Glorfindel quietly sat in the chair, his eyes never leaving the sleeping form, always looking for movement like an animal ready to dart away. He watched Erestor’s side slowly rise and fall; he was in a deep sleep. Fin began to relax, if only a little. It felt like it used to, when he would wake early and watch Erestor as he slept. His fingers itched to hold charcoal and parchment, to sketch the innocence that only sleep revealed. Fin feared that he wouldn’t be able to capture this anymore. Could he still draw Erestor the way he’d always seen him, or would the eyes reflect things from the past, things Fin wished never happened? And then he realized that, just like himself, Erestor could not continue to live with the secret and the guilt. Glorfindel knew this feeling well, for he’d lived like that ever since his re-embodiment, regretting the unfinished business left behind in Gondolin. He’d finally found closure a year ago, when Astarion was avenged and spared further torture. Glorfindel had been the one to deliver the mercy of death, something he should have done millennia ago. And on that very day, Erestor began his journey of secrecy and guilt. That’s what angered him most. They’d lived a year of ignorance. Was there really any difference between telling multiple lies and keeping something secret?
Glorfindel found himself trying to justify it all. Part of him wanted to give Erestor the benefit of doubt. Part of him wanted to make Erestor suffer. He glanced at the back of Erestor’s neck, and the bandages that still covered the bite marks left by the wolves. Perhaps he’d already suffered. And then there was this vision of Lastar and a message from the Doomsman. Glorfindel felt he knew him better than others, and Námo did not send word to anyone unless it was of utmost importance. This meant that Erestor had been very close to death, his soul already preparing for its journey. Lastar’s role would have been to intercept before Erestor reached the Halls. But why Lastar, he asked himself. Because it had to do with him, Glorfindel answered his own question. A price to pay, Erestor had said. To tell the truth, Glorfindel assumed. Erestor must tell the truth and spare his soul, or–
“The reoccurring wounds, the infection,” Glorfindel said aloud in a whisper so not to disturb Erestor’s sleep. “That’s why he confessed.”
How should he feel about that? If Erestor had never been injured, would he have ever told Glorfindel about his tryst with Lastar? Would he have continued to live the lie? Did he really have so little trust that he could not confess his mistake? Glorfindel thought about his reaction when Erestor finally told him. Anger, disappointment, fear, betrayal … he’d felt all these things. He’d asked why Erestor did this, but he hadn’t listened. It was just instinct to question him, and anger blocked his ears from hearing any reply. When the ringing in his head became too much to handle, Fin vanished without a word, leaving Erestor to wonder and suffer. He understood why Erestor had remained silent for the last year.
“I cast him away once before. I see that now, though I thought it was to protect him. He feared that I would do it again, and perhaps permanently this time,” Glorfindel told himself. “I guess Madock was right. We are both at fault … actions and reactions.”
He needed to test himself. He needed to look at Erestor and know he could do so without feeling anxiety or anger. He needed to know what he saw, and he could only do that through drawing. So, Glorfindel slipped out of the room and went to Madock’s study. He rifled through drawers until he found a small bit of used charcoal. There was no fresh parchment, but there were lots of books. He found one that had a blank page separating the title page from the contents in the first chapter, and ripped it from its binding. Erestor would have cringed at the sight of desecrating a book in such a barbarian manner. Fin could hear the complaints.
When he came back to the healing room, Erestor had stirred in his sleep, and was now lying on his other side, facing the chair. His arm was snaked beneath his pillow, his hand sticking out at the top. The other hand rest on the pillow in front of his face. His breathing hadn’t changed, still slow and deep. Glorfindel sat down with the book he’d torn the page from, and the blank sheet of paper on top of it. He took up the charcoal, prepared to begin drawing, and paused to study Erestor’s face. He waited and then … there is was, that heavy thump, thump of his heart beating. It was still there, thank the Valar. Despite everything that had happened, he still felt love.
* * *
Erestor awoke to the sound of light scratching, rapid and broken like a mouse making a new doorway through the floorboards. He had the illusion of having previously experienced this moment before, or at least the scratching seemed familiar. He wasn’t ready to open his eyes just yet. He wanted to test his injuries first. He did so by twisting his head from side to side, and lifting his arm away from his body. It hardly hurt now, and he wondered how long he’d been asleep.
The scratching stopped after he moved, and he opened his eyes and focused on the first thing he saw, Glorfindel. He was sitting in the chair, a book on his lap and something in his hand. His fingers were black. Had he been drawing?
“You’re here,” Erestor whispered. He didn’t expect to see Fin, not after the news he delivered. Part of him thought he’d never see the elf lord again, and he wouldn’t blame him for disappearing.
“Of course I’m here,” Glorfindel said. He stowed the paper inside the book and laid it on a small table.
“For how long?” Erestor asked. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Glorfindel. He was not an easy elf to read.
“It depends,” Glorfindel said.
“On what?”
Glorfindel didn’t answer. He tilted his head to the side, looking at the bandages on Erestor’s arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Erestor answered tersely. He didn’t like the fact that Fin didn’t answer him.
“And your wounds?” Glorfindel asked.
“Healing.”
“Good.”
“Where have you been?” Erestor asked.
“About.”
Well, this conversation was going nowhere quick, Erestor thought. Since when did they ever make small talk? “Glorfindel, I just want to say–”
“Don’t,” Fin said with warning, knowing what Erestor was going to say. His voice softened when he realized he might have sounded a little harsh. “Not yet.” He didn’t want to hear apologies or explanations. He only wanted to be in the moment, alone with Erestor without any other thoughts. He needed closeness, and got up from the chair, approaching the bed.
As if Erestor read Fin’s thoughts, he moved to one side of the bed. Glorfindel hesitated, but he gave in and laid on the bed next to Erestor. At first his body was tense and stiff as a wooden plank. Fin laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Erestor mimicked his body language, afraid to touch Glorfindel, afraid to move. Amazingly, Glorfindel rolled onto his side away from Erestor, but he pushed his back against him. Erestor moved onto his side and spooned against Glorfindel. After a few tense and silent moments, Glorfindel reached his hand back and took Erestor’s wrist, bringing his arm across his own hip. Erestor smiled at the gesture, and gathered Glorfindel closer to him. They had both missed the closeness, and it felt good to be in each other’s arms again. Neither one moved for a long while. They just enjoyed the warmth shared between their bodies, reacquainting with one another.
Erestor’s eyes scanned what he could see of Glorfindel’s form. He seemed so vulnerable right now. They both were, especially after everything that happened. The fact that Fin was here, lying next to him, was promising. Maybe they could move past this after all.
“I sold your horse,” Glorfindel said after almost a half hour of silence.
“Oh,” Erestor responded. He was actually glad. The old mare was not trustworthy, and now Erestor had reservations toward her. “That’s good.” He shifted behind Glorfindel nervously. “I, uh … I told Madock that he should keep Léra.”
“You did? Why? I thought you wanted her,” Glorfindel said with surprise.
“I don’t think I’m ready to be someone’s master. And besides, the girls love her, and she helps them with their nightmares. Léra will be much more useful here.”
“If you’re sure,” Glorfindel said. He rolled onto his back and glanced sideways at Erestor. “I’ll miss Léra.”
Erestor smiled to himself. “I will too, but I think it’s for the best.” He reached for a stray lock of Fin’s gilded hair and twirled it between his fingers. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Glorfindel answered. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I guess we never really discussed everything that happened between us.”
“No, we just picked up where we left off, but I think we needed to do that. We needed to get to somewhere familiar.”
Glorfindel turned on his side and faced Erestor, sharing the same pillow. Erestor’s hand snaked its way beneath it, his other resting on his side. Glorfindel stayed on his half of the small bed, though they were close enough that they breathed each other’s breath. His blue eyes looked everywhere but at Erestor’s hazel ones. He still could not do it, not until he said what should have been said a long time ago.
“I never told you why I turned you away,” Glorfindel started.
“I don’t need a reason,” Erestor said, but Fin’s finger touched his lips to silence him.
“When I came back from the dead, I knew a part of me was left behind in Gondolin. It was a part that I was not proud of, but it was still a piece of me, and I missed that. But I knew I was different. I knew there were things I needed to move on from, and that’s why certain feelings, certain memories were left behind. I lived that life for centuries. And then, when … Astarion came back, all those things that were abandoned in those tunnels in Gondolin escaped, breaking open the wall that had been put in place to protect me from myself. I suddenly remembered all the things I’d done, all the regret, the guilt, the fear and the cowardice. The proof that any of that ever existed was sitting in front of me, ruined and tortured, but still alive, and it was my fault. I knew what I needed to do to fix it, or I thought I did, but I couldn’t let you see that side me. So, I turned you away, not for lack of love, but to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I thought I could explain myself after it was all over, but I discovered that it would take more effort than I originally thought.” Glorfindel touched the bandage on Erestor’s arm. “Not unlike these bites, the deeper the wound, the longer and more difficult the healing. But these wounds went back millennia. I couldn’t drag you along into that open pit of guilt, for fear of changing the way you saw me. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, and I knew you wouldn’t go easily, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I cast you as far from me as I could, in hopes that you’d never come back for me.”
“Fool,” Erestor whispered, reaching out and touching the side of Glorfindel’s face.
“Yes, I was. And I realize that I was the reason that you went to Lastar.” Glorfindel finally looked into Erestor’s eyes, and was rewarded with the love that had always been there. “I chased you into his arms, and now I punish you for your decision. I had no right, and I am truly sorry, Meldanya.”
“Do you know the real reason I did what I did?” Erestor asked, though he didn’t wait for a reply. “It wasn’t to smite you. It wasn’t so that I could move on. It was because I was dying without your love. It was the most excruciating pain that I’d ever felt, and I just wanted it to be over. But a voice from somewhere deep within said it was a mistake to fade from grief, that it would only end my own suffering. But in doing so, I would create suffering of the same kind to the one who owned my soul. It meant that my death would cause you to experience the same pain that I could not bear. I couldn’t let that happen, but I couldn’t go on either. And then, there was Lastar, one last rope to grab onto before falling into the void. And I gave in to him. But … I did not love him. He loved me, and that knowledge was enough to stay alive, and muddle through the pain of losing you. In return, you would go on and never experience the same agony as I had.
“And then, everything turned around. My inner strength returned. The desolation I’d felt started to diminish, and I wanted you back. I could not give up without one last fight, for I loved you too much. I made the decision to confront you, to confront Astarion … to make you realize what exactly you were throwing away. So, I marched back to the prison house that same night with my mind set on getting you back. If it meant killing Astarion with my bare hands, then that’s what I would have done. I needed you as I had never needed anything or anyone. I knew that without you, life would be bitter, but with you, the journey would be sweet and fulfilling. And, even though there was much heartache and bloodshed, I accomplished my goal. I had you again. I was safely away from that never-ending void, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep from losing that, even if it meant keeping my secret and my guilt for what I shared with Lastar. It was all very confusing, but I buried it anyways, until recently.
“Close to death, and facing Mandos Halls, I was told that I must confess my wrongdoings. It was the only way to stay alive, to heal from my wounds, and to change my outcome, for I was meant to die by those wolves. But the Valar hadn’t foreseen our love, and if I died, you would follow, and we would be separated forever in death. My price for peace was to confess and trust that our love was strong enough to carry us past this, though I know that it remains yet to be seen.” Erestor closed his eyes, unable to look at his lover, afraid of what he might see.
Erestor felt Glorfindel’s hand cup his head, the long fingers twining in his hair, and a thumb tracing the outer edge of his ear. “You are right,” Glorfindel said. “We cannot resolve this quickly. We’ve both been wrong, and we’ve both done things we regret.”
Erestor opened his eyes, and Glorfindel was looking at him as if for the first time. His blue eyes were intense as they followed the course of Erestor’s brow, the bridge of his nose, across his cheekbone and along his jaw line, finally coming to rest on his lips. The elf lord moved closer until their bodies touched. Their lips were only a hair’s width away from each other when he whispered. “But with resolve or not, our souls cannot be separated.” And then he touched his lips to Erestor’s, kissing him delicately. “We will try though, and we will find a way to start again.”
It wasn’t what Erestor had hoped for, to rekindle what they’d once shared. He knew it would take time for them to learn to trust each other once more. At least Fin was willing. That had been Erestor’s biggest fear, and it had been put to rest. Glorfindel had come back to him, and that was as much as Erestor could have hoped for.
* * *
A few more days passed, and it was time to leave Bree and head back to Rivendell. Erestor’s wounds were mostly healed, the process sped up after his talk with Glorfindel. Námo had kept to his word. Vairë would rework her webbed tapestry. Perhaps there would be no end, and he would spend eternity with Glorfindel. It sure felt that way.
The two elves stood in the front foyer, saying their farewells to Madock and his daughters. Glorfindel got on one knee, and Ella jumped into his arms.
“Goodbye, Glorfindel,” she said, hugging him around his neck.
“Be good for your Papa, and keep to your studies,” Glorfindel said.
“I will.” Ella jumped down and went to her father.
Carys looked up at both elves and smiled. “I’m glad it all worked out.” She looked over at Léra, who stood next to Madock. “And thank you for letting her stay with us.”
“Are you sure about the dog?” Madock asked.
Glorfindel looked at Erestor for the answer. After all, it was originally his dog. Erestor smiled at Léra, and she crossed the room, wagging her tail. He patted her head and scratched behind her big floppy ear. “She will be much happier here. She’s home.”
Glorfindel stepped to Madock, and the two soldier’s grasped forearms. “If you need anything … anything at all, do not hesitate,” Glorfindel said.
“Same goes for me, Lord Glorfindel. You’ll always have a place to stay when you’re in the city.”
“I believe I’ll take you up on that offer. Bree has its charms, but its inns are lacking,” Glorfindel chortled.
Erestor came forward and clasped Madock’s shoulder. “Thank you seems not enough for all you’ve done.”
“Just fulfilling my oath as a doctor,” Madock replied modestly.
They all said their final farewells, and Glorfindel and Erestor were off to the stables. The stable hand had Glorfindel’s white horse, Asfaloth, ready and waiting as he requested. Erestor paused before mounting. He looked slightly embarrassed, and Glorfindel gave him a wondering look.
“I haven’t ridden double back on a horse in a long time, not since I was very young. It just seems a little strange, two grown elves riding on one horse,” Erestor commented.
“I’ll let you sit in front if it will make you feel more masculine,” Glorfindel chaffed.
Erestor shot Fin a displeasing look. Oddly, Glorfindel took great comfort in the counselor’s bitter glare. Long had it been since Erestor behaved in his usual stuffy manner, and Fin missed that side of him. It already seemed like things were returning to normal, though it might be some time before Glorfindel could really forget what happened. It still pained him when he thought about Erestor with another elf. He needed to find a way to keep himself from harboring these hurtful thoughts or they would always creep up between them.
“I believe I will oblige, but not to feel more masculine,” Erestor complained. “After my last experience on a horse, I’d rather be where I feel in control.”
Glorfindel patted Asfaloth’s neck, and the horse quietly whinnied. “In all the years we have been together, Asfaloth has never once thrown me, and he will not do it to you either. But if it makes you feel better. . .”
With their riding arrangements made, the two elves mounted and started on their journey home, leaving Bree behind for now. They knew they’d be back again. Bree was a place they visited from time to time, and as Erestor thought about it, he gasped and looked back at the city gate.
“Damn, after all that happened, I forgot,” Erestor said disappointed. It was too late now. He didn’t feel like going back.
“What did you forget, Meldanya?” Glorfindel asked from behind.
“I forgot to go to the book store and speak with Oswin about–”
“About these?” Glorfindel interrupted, reaching into his tunic and retrieving a roll of parchments with a red satin ribbon tied around them. He handed it to Erestor.
“What’s this?” Erestor held it up to his eye as if able to see inside the paper tube.
“Copies of the documents that Léra destroyed.” Glorfindel smiled proudly.
Erestor looked over his shoulder. “You … entered a bookstore?”
Glorfindel knitted his brow. “Did you think I might instantaneously combust into flames or something?”
“No,” Erestor laughed. “I just didn’t expect you to visit Oswin, that’s all. But I’m glad you did. That was quite amiable of you. Thank you,” he said with sincerity. He never would have thought that after everything, Glorfindel would be so kind, or that he would remember in the first place. It gave Erestor hope that they would eventually get back to the way things used to be without the dark shadow of either of their mistakes hanging over their heads.
* * *
They rode for a good long while. It would be getting dark soon. They could ride through the night if they wanted to. Both elves and the horse were used to riding for long periods of time without a break. Glorfindel and Erestor had been silent for most of the day. It was unlike them to go for so long without something to talk about. There was still some discomfort between them that neither one knew how to settle.
“Do you mind if we take a bit of a detour?” Glorfindel asked, breaking the silence.
“Where are we going?” Erestor asked curiously.
“I know of a place not far from here, where there is a natural hot spring. I thought if you might be feeling a little stiff after riding all day, and so soon after your mishap, that we might take comfort in a hot bath.”
“That’s not a bad idea. And besides, we’re in no hurry to return home, are we?”
Glorfindel smiled contentedly. “Not at all.” He pointed to a path that led into a stand of trees. “Take us that way, and stay on the dirt path until you come to a large boulder. Then go to the right. It won’t be too far off the road.”
Erestor clicked his tongue and directed Asfaloth as Glorfindel told him. Soon they arrived at a secluded place where the ground was made of rock. They dismounted and set Asfaloth free to graze nearby. Glorfindel took their packs and Erestor took their bed rolls, and they walked along the stony path until they saw steam rising in the distance. Erestor figured that was the hot spring, and he started to look forward to a nice soak. The water in these types of springs was said to be full of minerals that helped with all kinds of ailments.
“Are you hungry?” Glorfindel asked.
“A little,” Erestor answered. “There’s some fruit in one of the bags, and a stone jar with stew that Madock made this morning.” They had other food, such as dried meat and lembas, but they would eat the perishable food first, since it wouldn’t last more than a day.
They came to the hot spring, hidden amongst some large rocks. The hard stone ground gave way to an unusual reddish orange dirt. Beyond that was a forest where Erestor was sure they’d find wood to make a fire. They already planned to spend the night here, and get back on the road for home first thing in the morning.
Soon enough, their bellies were satisfied and Glorfindel had gathered a pile of wood. The sun was setting, and Erestor got to work making a fire with his knife and some flint that he kept in his bag. Glorfindel was doing something where the red dirt was, but Erestor didn’t pay attention. He was thinking about how quiet they had been all day, only speaking when necessary. He knew Glorfindel still held some resentment, and Erestor couldn’t blame him. It would take time to settle into the normal pace of things, at least he hoped they could.
They sat next to the fire for a while, each elf staring into the flames, absorbed in their own thoughts. Erestor wished there was something he could say, something he could do to help ease them back to the comfortable peace that once flowed between them. Now, things felt forced. Erestor knew it must be Glorfindel’s lack of trust and his own pestering guilt.
Finally, Glorfindel jumped up from his place by the fire, and stood still, towering above Erestor. “I cannot stand this barrier between us any longer.”
“You feel it to then,” Erestor said. “I don’t know what else to say, and I’m afraid if I say anything at all, it might sweep us further apart.”
“I would not have come back to you if I couldn’t find it within myself to forgive you,” Glorfindel said. “But you are right. Something holds us apart.”
“I just want our old lives back, but I don’t know what to do,” Erestor admitted. He looked up at Glorfindel, so tall and solid, but so far from his reach. “What if things can never be that way again? What if the things I’ve done have cause our souls irreversible damage?” Erestor held his head in his hands. “I thought confessing would alleviate the guilt, but it has only made it worse. I won’t blame you if you want to go your own way when we get home. I don’t much want to be around myself either, though there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“That’s enough!” Glorfindel demanded. “Things happened and they can’t be unmade, but I still want you, Erestor. I don’t like this silence and hesitancy. We must both move on from this, accept that it happened, and make a new life together.”
“I don’t know how we can,” Erestor said, his voice no more than a whisper.
Glorfindel picked up a large piece of wood that was hollowed out where it had rotted. He looked at the red dirt, and then to the hot spring. The corner of his mouth twisted slyly, but he hid it from Erestor. He went to the dirt and scooped some into the makeshift wooden bowl, brought it back to the fire and set it down on a rock. “Where’s that stone jar?” he asked, and Erestor handed it to him. They had eaten all the stew and it was empty. Glorfindel cleaned it out with water from the hot spring. When he was satisfied with it, he filled the jar with clean warm water from the spring and brought it to the bowl of dirt. He added water to the dirt, making it into a reddish paste. When he was satisfied, he started undoing the buttons of his tunic.
“Take off your clothes,” he told Erestor, but the counselor cocked his head to the side and raised a cynical brow.
“What are you doing?”
“Just do as I say.” Glorfindel threw his tunic and shirt over a rock and began unlacing his leggings.
“Is this your answer for everything? Are you going to punish me like you did in the storeroom that time? Because if that is what you have in mind, I’ll have nothing to do with it,” Erestor complained.
By now, Glorfindel was completely naked, and the moon’s light helped accentuate his muscles, warming parts of Erestor that hadn’t been warmed in some time. Without saying a word, Glorfindel started undressing him.
“If you’re not going to–” Fin started to say, but Erestor slapped his hands away.
“I can undress myself,” he snapped.
“Then do so,” Fin ordered.
“What is the meaning of this, anyways?” Erestor asked. He was not giving in easily.
“Undress, and I will explain what we are about to do.”
Erestor knew that once Fin set his mind to something, there was no changing it. The elf lord was determined, so Erestor did as he was told, and started taking off his riding clothes. Glorfindel watched and explained.
“There was an ancient race of Northmen, whose descendants are now known as the Woodsmen of the North. They were great warriors, but they also held life in high respect. They fought for the good of their own people, but they were regretful in the fact that they must kill other men to protect their families and their land. They didn’t want war, but the surrounding tribes were a threat. They couldn’t live peacefully. There was always someone who wanted to conquer and control the other tribes. These Northmen did what they had to do. They fought bravely, and they won many times over, but it’s said that they never forgot a face. Every man that they killed became engraved upon their minds. Their guilt became too much, and it weakened them. But they found a way to help cleanse themselves of these acts of violence.”
By now, Erestor was naked and stood before Glorfindel. The elf lord took the wooden bowl and scooped red mud into his hand. He rubbed it over Erestor’s shoulder, down his chest and halfway down his arm. The mud felt warm and comforting, and Erestor stopped resisting whatever Fin planned on doing. “Did this have something to do with their ceremony?”
“It had everything to do with it,” Glorfindel continued as he spread more mud onto Erestor’s body. “You see, they gathered as a group, not unlike you and I are now, and they painted each other with this red mineral clay. They believed that the warm mud drew any toxins within the body, including guilt and remorse, to the surface of the skin, where it became absorbed by the clay. They covered themselves completely, pairing up with each other to make sure that not an inch of skin was left bare. It was believed that when the mud dried, the body was rid of the unwanted toxins.” Glorfindel shoved the bowl towards Erestor. “Go on, take some and do my back.”
As Glorfindel went on with this strange history, Erestor spread mud over Fin’s shoulders and back. He observed every muscle, taking his time about it. His mind wandered. Glorfindel’s body was a thing of masculine beauty, perfect in every sense of the word. The mud accentuated every ripple of the elf lord’s toned body. It was a very arousing ritual, and he wondered about this ancient race. Did any of them get as much joy out of it as he was at the moment?
Erestor covered the small of Glorfindel’s back, and then he started on the perfect round arse, making sure to do a thorough job of covering all the taut flesh. While Fin spoke and Erestor rubbed, the elf lord covered his own chest and arms.
“Done,” Erestor said, wishing he didn’t have to stop roaming his hands all over Glorfindel’s body.
“Your turn. Spin around,” Glorfindel said, and Erestor obeyed.
Now, Glorfindel was covering Erestor’s back, his strong hands traveling over shoulders, back and waist. Erestor felt Fin’s hands on his hips, and come around to the front, caressing his stomach. The counselor couldn’t help himself, and twitched to life from Glorfindel’s sensual ministrations, whether Fin meant to be seductive or not. Before long, they were entirely covered, and they stood back to look at each other.
“We look … the same, but for the color of our hair,” Erestor observed. The mud covered muscles and scars, half healed wounds and other differences.
Glorfindel came forward and kissed Erestor. Then he moved back and studied every part of the counselor’s body. “You look like some exotic beast. It is quite stimulating.”
Erestor noticed just how stimulated Fin was, and it created his own response as he stirred to action. Glorfindel watched him rise and smiled, mud cracking around his mouth. Erestor raised a brow to his lover. “Do you think any of the Northmen enjoyed this ceremony as much as the two of us seem to be at the moment?” he jostled.
“Actually, they looked down upon such carnal ideas. A man could be killed for his perverse desire for another man.”
“Really?” Erestor said with interest. “What a shame to feel remorse for killing your enemy, but not for your own tribesman just because of his sexual preference.”
Glorfindel came forward again, and pulled Erestor against him, their warm muddy bodies touching and trading heat. “We wouldn’t last a day amongst the Northmen.”
Erestor reached up and took a lock of Glorfindel’s hair, leaving a trace of mud. “We would have to hide our feelings, and run off somewhere secluded where we could be together, hoping never to get caught. We definitely could not live under the same roof, or it would raise suspicion.”
“We could claim that we were brothers who never married, too vain and arrogant to settle for just one woman,” Glorfindel said.
“Interesting concept. That might make a good story. To everyone else, they were brothers, but no one knew what happened once they were behind closed doors,” Erestor thought aloud. “What an awful way to live one’s life. I’m glad the elves have no reserves about that.”
“Erestor,” Glorfindel said dreamily, as though he hadn’t heard a thing Erestor had said. “I don’t want to have any reserves about us. I want us both to move past all that has happened. I said I forgave you and I meant it, but you must not carry the guilt any longer. We can’t change the past, only learn from our mistakes. Let’s make a new start, again. There’s nothing we do not know about each other anymore, is there?”
“You know everything now. I had feared that it would be too much, though. I crossed a line that most can never come back from. So tell me … why? Why are you so willing to forgive so easily, when I can hardly forgive myself?”
“Because I can’t change my feelings for you,” Glorfindel explained. “I was afraid also, until I looked into your eyes, and felt my heart pound in my chest. As mad as I might have been, it could never overpower my love for you.”
Erestor took Glorfindel by the neck and brought him close. “How is it you always know what to say?” He kissed Fin, letting go of the guilt and the past. Make a new start, they would, and it would begin now.
When they separated, Glorfindel glanced at the hot spring. “Ready to cleanse yourself?”
“At long last, yes.” Erestor followed Fin to the steaming pool amongst the rocks. They each stepped in and sucked air in through their teeth. The water was almost unbearably hot at first, but the body adjusted quickly. It felt wonderfully invigorating. Erestor could see the mud drifting from his skin and settling on the rocks that jetted out along the inside of the pool. The red clay was heavy, and it didn’t cloud the water, which stayed crystal clear.
The elves lowered themselves into the water inch by inch until they were up to their necks. Erestor could feel his wounds pulsate as they adjusted to the intrusive water, filled with healing minerals. It felt better than any soothing salve he’d ever used, and it wasn’t uncomfortable for long. Almost instantly, he felt as though he’d never been injured. Even his spine felt limber and not stiff from where he’d fallen on the rock in the creek. He closed his eyes and imagined what the Northmen must have thought about as they let the visions of their enemies sink along with the mud. He suddenly conjured the vision of Lastar and the waterfall, of the night they’d spent together when Erestor had lost all hope of ever being with Glorfindel again. He took a deep breath, and when he let it out, the memory went with it, falling from him with what mud still clung to his skin. The smell of iron and earth rose in the steam, and so did a vision of Lastar, back to the Halls of Waiting, floating upwards and evaporating in the sky.
A pair of strong arms grasped Erestor by the waist, and Glorfindel was pulling him in. Erestor let go of everything that had once stood between them. For the first time in a year, he felt truly free, his soul no longer held captive by guilt. Glorfindel still loved him, and as it turned out, that had never changed.
Erestor surrendered his body to his lover as they made love in the healing waters. The world fell away, and it was just the two of them, the only lovers left on earth. This place would forever belong to them. It would become a new memory, the one that crushed the old memory of the waterfall and all that happened between them so long ago. Erestor felt as though he and Glorfindel had been reborn into a new world, this one without struggle, without remorse. There was only amity and love in this place, a future full of hope. The past now lay at the bottom of the hot spring where it would go back into the earth and stay buried. What he and Glorfindel shared was so massive, so extreme that there was no room for past faults or regret.
Together they were stronger than anything that tried to tear them apart. Together, they were whole, one being, one soul, one heart, for all eternity.
--The End--
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A Price for Peace