Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: LoTR
Author: Lynsey
Websites and Mailing List: See links under user information
Beta: None
Chapter: 9/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel, Erestor/OC
Rating: R this chapter
Warnings: AU, self harm
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I do not make any money from this fiction.
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor learn to love each other after the events in “Tolerance.” One young elf realizes something about himself.


Erestor slowly opened the door to his little cottage. The home was quiet since Corchvorn was out on a message run Valar knew where.

This is how it was now. Erestor spent hours and hours every day pouring over every book Elrond put in front of him. He attended council meetings and took pages of notes, occasionally voicing his own opinions to the surprise and delight of the council members.

Corchvorn was almost always gone. He took every job he could, hoping to provide for Erestor and himself.

The darkling’s feelings on the matter were rather mixed. On one hand, being alone more often than not gave him ample time to brood, which he did well and often.

On the other, he was really rather…lonely without the constant tending by his husband. Corchvorn was really rather sweet as well as good company.

And…he made the horrible, aching hole left behind by losing Glorfindel feel a little less excruciating. It was easier to distract himself from his grief when Corchvorn was there, mothering him.

Erestor moved to the bedroom, laying down on the bed and forgetting about eating dinner entirely. The bed was cold, as cold as the rest of his life was. Nothing felt warm anymore. The days stretched on in frozen, winter-like nothingness. His very soul had a blanket of stifling, blank snow covering anything resembling life. The numbing, biting frost made him ache deep inside.

But he hid it all behind a blank face, monotone words, and stoic countenance.

He’d purposefully avoided any contact with Glorfindel, even seeing him. He knew that the moment he saw that strong, handsome face again, the world would crumble around his feet and drag him even farther down into the hole of despair.

But today his purposeful and very careful avoidance maneuvers had been trumped by a council meeting that incorporated the blond Captain. Elrond, busy as he was, hadn’t even thought to warn Erestor ahead of time, and had only realized his error when he and his aid walked through the door.

Erestor had froze, feeling faint and slightly ill at seeing Glorfindel for the first time since the healing ward. Elrond had turned and grasped Erestor’s arm and asked if he was alright, if he wanted to leave under his breath. Erestor shook his head and moved from Elrond’s grasp to take his seat. The darkling’s head stayed down the entire session, pen poised but never writing a single letter. He didn’t hear a word said by anyone at the council, and only moved when Elrond’s gentle hand settled on his shoulder.

“Everyone has gone, little one,” Elrond said quietly. “Would you like the rest of the afternoon off?”

Erestor didn’t know how to respond. He could hardly speak, or even think.

“He…” Erestor said, voice thick with emotion he had suppressed for several weeks. “Did he look at me?”

Elrond’s face softened. “Yes.”

“What-” Erestor’s voice wobbled so badly he had to swallow a few times before he could continue. “What…did he look alright?”

Elrond hesitated. “He looked fine.” He looked a few moments away from jumping from his seat and taking Erestor into his arms and feeling disgusted at himself for feeling so.

Erestor’s eyes lost a few tears that had been welling. “That’s good. I want him to be…fine.” He could hardly talk, he was so overwhelmed.

“Let’s get you home, child. You need to rest.”

The trip to his home was a blur, and Erestor didn’t even know where he was until everything jumped back into sharp focus after Elrond had opened the door and ushered him inside.

“Will you be alright by yourself?”

“Yes. Thank you for escorting me home,” Erestor said formally. “Have nice evening, my Lord.”

Elrond sighed and stroked Erestor’s hair paternally. “If you have any trouble sleeping, take the draught I made for you.” With that, the elder turned and left the small cottage with no small trepidation. But…there was nothing he could do. Erestor had shut himself off to everyone, and he could do nothing to break down those walls. The best he could do is keep himself available if Erestor decided to seek help.

That brought Erestor where he was now, laying on his bed and staring at the wall of his day-lit room. Normally, he’d be transcribing meeting notes at this time of day to distribute to the rest of council. But…

ohValaritHURTS

He curled into himself and couldn’t help an agonized sound of irrepressible pain. That one glimpse of golden hair and noble face had torn his heart in two once again. Barely healed hurts were laid open in weeping, raw gashes to torment his battered and bloodied soul.

It had to come out. The pain was so devastating, his small body just couldn’t contain it anymore. He needed to…to…

Erestor rolled out of bed and fell to the floor. He pulled his knees under him, body hunched forward until his head hit the floor. An unidentifiable scream left his throat, the sorrow trying to leave his body any way it could. His arms crossed in front of his chest and small hands gripped shaking biceps. Fingers went white knuckled as they gripped fabric and skin. His fingernails dug hard into his flesh and…

It felt good. He sat up a little, blinking tear filled eyes. He released his clenching hands, and the physical pain went away but…the hurt inside surged to the surface again. His vision went black and a tortured scream left his mouth.

His vision cleared at the stab of sensation in his palms. Unclenching his fingers, blood welled up in the palms of his hands where clamped fingernails had carved deep grooves into the skin. The searing pain in his soul lessened, concentrating on the hurt in his hands. The physical pain felt so much better, so much cleaner than the all-encompassing torment wracking his spirit.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Erestor was tearing at his arms through the fabric of his robes, pulling the material off in strips to reach the flesh underneath. It felt good, better than anything he’d felt in a long time. Each rent torn in his skin was like a relief for all the anguish he held inside. For every wound, another bout of grief was released until he fell limp and panting on the floor.

Erestor lay on the floor, staring at the wall again. However, he felt good. Better than he had in a long time. Eventually, he heaved himself off the floor and collapsed onto the bed.

He fell into an exhausted sleep in a pile of limp limbs and unnoticed tears.

*****************

Erestor woke at the sound of his rooster cackling in the early morning sun. He pushed himself up, squinting in the light that filtered through the open window. Breathing a little, wavering breath Erestor swung his legs to the side of the bed. He hung his head and stared at the mess he had made of himself. Large, but shallow slashes covered his arms and blood was crusted everywhere.

He felt…he didn’t know how he felt. The unspeakable, devastating grief was…not gone but significantly lessened. His breath shook a little as he traced the marks on his arms and touched the wounds from his fingernails on the palms of his hands.

He needed to clean himself up.

Erestor was sincerely grateful for Elrond’s more-than generous gift of a water boiler for their home. It only took a few minutes to fill the tiny tub with warm water. Shedding his ruined robes, Erestor slid in. Once settled, Erestor stared at his arms again before dipping them under the surface. Immediately, the water turned light copper. He soaped a rag and gently dabbed at his battered forearms. More scarlet clouded the water and stained the washrag.

Several minutes past while Erestor cleaned the traces of his madness from his body. Finally cleansed, he drained the water and refilled the tub. The hotter water soothed him into a state of semi-alertness.

He couldn’t believe what he had done. He’d…mangled himself. Why? Why had he done this?

Why…did he feel better?

The questions circled and circled in his head until he couldn’t take it anymore. Sighing in frustration at himself and the universe in general, Erestor stood from the tub and dried himself off with one of the towels hung on the wash-basin. He wrapped the towel around himself and wrung out the bloodied rag to erase any evidence of his…debacle.

Back into the bedroom, Erestor double checked the room. Nothing was out of place, and no blood had spattered anywhere.

A set of robes were pulled from the small wardrobe and donned over a set of trousers and a shirt. Erestor double checked himself in the small mirror on top of the dresser. He was a little too pale, but he was always a little too pale. He reached up to start taming his hair and froze as the sleeves of his robe fell down to gather at elbows and exposed his injured arms.

This wouldn’t do.

Erestor removed the robe and shrugged on a different shirt, one that tied at the wrists. He put the robe back on and again lifted his arms. The robe fell downward, but the sleeves of the shirt stayed in place.

Perfect.

No one would know.

************************

Corchvorn tried to open the door silently, but the hinges squeaked loudly as it swung inside. He winced and tried just as unsuccessfully to close the door quietly.

“Hey.” The quiet voice made Corchvorn jump in the air and swing around wildly. Erestor stood in the door to their bedroom, clad only in a long-sleeved shirt that reached down to his thighs.

Corchvorn put a hand to his chest and breathed deeply. “By the Valar you scared me. I had thought you would be in bed this time of night.”

“Elrond said you would probably be home this eve, so I thought I would wait for you.”

The brown haired lad let his armload of travel bags sag to the floor, mesmerized by the sight of his quiet, broken husband not only talking to him willingly, but scantily clad. Erestor had been completely dressed every moment of their time together, only undressing behind the locked door of the bathroom.

Corchvorn’s breath caught at the beautiful elf before him. They hadn’t done…’anything’ since the terrible day at the sables. Only the occasional chaste kiss to Erestor’s forehead had been bestowed. Corchvorn had almost forgotten his more…physical desires in light of Erestor’s needs, and now, he shivered in suppressed want.

“I…um…” Corchvorn choked.

Erestor’s hands clasped in front of him and fiddled with the ties on the wrists of his shirt. “I’m glad you’re home,” Erestor said quietly.

Corchvorn took a few steps forward and crossed the tiny living room. His breath wavered as he came close and stood nearly touching his husband. “I’m glad to be home, too,” Corchvorn agreed. His hand came up and very hesitantly touched Erestor’s arm. “How do you feel?”

Erestor tilted his face so his beautiful, dark hair fell across one of his eyes. “I’m feeling…better.” Those dark eyes peered at Corchvorn from behind the partial veil of night sky. “Would you…like to come to bed?”

Corchvorn wet his suddenly dry lips and nodded unsteadily. “Aye. I would love that.”

TBC…