Love’s Healing Flame

BY : Argleena
Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 262
Disclaimer: The following work is based on the fantasy world and characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien and I do not own them or profit from this piece of work.

Notes:  This work is dedicated to Alexcat for the MSV 2022 exchange on AO3. 
Request: (from alexcat)
Elf/Elf, Elf/Man, Elf/Gandalf, the LOTR elflords (Gil-galad, Thranduil, Oropher, Celeborn, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor)
The prompt was:
LOTR and/or Silmarillion based. humor, a goat (I love goats)


Imladris, early 3rd age

   Erestor had had it! He was fed up. He needed a break. An extended vacation. Anything! Perhaps he could take a soothing sabbatical in the Golden Wood. Galadriel and Celeborn were dear old friends of his. He was sure they would welcome him with open arms while also concealing his presence from overly involved Elf Lords (i.e. Elrond). Or maybe he needed a vacation by the seaside. Círdan was always up for a good time and could be convinced easily enough with a bribe of some potent Greenwood wine or aged miruvor to keep his location under wraps. That may not be the best of ideas though. He may find himself too tempted to never return from there and instead hop the next ship to sail on over to Valinor. Blazes, at this point he might even take a one way trip to Thranduil’s rotting realm, that is if he thought his cursed luck could withstand the venomous, elf eating spiders that roamed freely there. Youknow, the ones that were the size of a small house... With his luck of late, he’d be snatched up by some overgrown arachnid for a midnight snack. Erestor would even settle for a solo camping trip to the ruins of Eregion. There he could bemoan the trials and tribulations he had been experiencing at the hand of one Peredhil Elf Lord and company with the spirited remains of Gil-Galad. If any fëa would be breaking out from the Halls of Mandos and sneaking back to haunt Middle Earth in the afterlife, Erenion was a prime candidate. If all these plans were to fall through, then maybe, just maybe Gildor could make space for one more ellon in his caravan whenever he passes through the valley next. The only problem with this is that Gidor’s traveling company of elves were free wanderers and pinpointing their location was always unpredictable. They could show up in Imladris two weeks from now, or it might be two centuries from now when they are next seen carousing through the river valley. 

     Feeling a familiar pressure building back up in his chest, Erestor held back sob. He snuck silently into his dimly lit chambers and gathered up a well worn pair of sleep leggings and tunic in hand, happy to get out of this flimsy robe from the Healing Halls. He headed straight for the private baths of the royal wing, which should be empty at this time of the day. Forget dinner, where the rest of the household was at, Erestor needed to be alone at this moment, he was trying to gather himself and calm down. Despite his daydreams of absconding to a realm far, far away, he knew that he could not really leave Imladris. If he stepped away for more than a fortnight, everything would fall into chaos and catastrophe worse than it already had. All of Middle Earth recognized Elrond as the lord and leader of the elven city of Imladris, however, it was really Erestor, working diligently behind the scenes, that kept everything running smoothly in the river valley. It’s not that Erestor didn’t greatly appreciate and love his Lord dearly, they had been friends and companions for ages, at times closer than brothers. It’s just that, not everyone realized what goes on behind the scenes to keep an elven community and such an expansive household running. Elrond had many big responsibilities and was busy around the clock. Coupled with his recent marriage and newly growing family, many seemed to forget just how much responsibility of the realm fell on Erestor’s slim shoulders. Erestor’s stern and private persona also did not help the way that many perceived him. His short temper and no nonsense attitude, coupled with some of his introverted ways caused him to be the focus of some gossip, speculation and even criticism by his fellow elves. Don’t get him started into his ancestry. Some elves just didn’t seem to understand he couldn’t help the family he was born into. Believe you me, he’d be the first to change history if he could. Some days it was nice to just end a stressful day (understatement) with a nice peaceful and relaxing soak, bathing pool all to himself.

     Erestor glided gracefully into the private baths, unbuttoned and slipped out of his well worn patient robes and slid into the steamy water of Elrond’s private baths. This was one of Erestor’s favorite privileges of being Elrond’s right hand man. He was considered part of Elrond’s immediate family and was welcome to use the hot spring heated, private baths whenever he wished. The only other elf in the kingdom who had unlimited access beyond Elrond, Celebrìan and their children was Glorfrfindel, whom if Erestor was Elrond’s right hand man, would be Elrond’s left hand man. Neither Erestor nor Glorfindel held rank higher than each other, they just each had very individual responsibilities and ways that Elrond depended on them to keep the realm functioning and running smoothly. Elrond valued both elves dearly and gave each the title of lower Lords of the kingdom. Elrond also had a deep and abiding friendship with each. At the thought of Glorfindel, especially thoughts of him partaking in the relaxing private baths of their Lord, Erestor just may have developed a pinkening of color in his cheeks, that quickly changed to one of deep abiding sadness and he recalled the reasons why he had snuck out to find some privacy here. He certainly would never be admitting to the fact that he had held an attraction for the Golden Lord. Oh no, he had always found an excuse to blame for the blush of color across his cheeks, and he doubted there would be any more blushing moving forward. Erestor sank chest deep down into the luxurious waters and leaned his head back against a head rest installed on the side of the pool. Covering his eyes with a warm, damp cloth, Erestor reflected on what brought him to the situation he currently found himself in, hiding away in the baths and semi-seriously considering absconding from this beloved realm.

Translations
Fëa- Soul

*FYI, this work will move in and out of a past and present timeline. Most past events take place in the six weeks leading up to current events. Please keep this in mind and you read on.

 

 



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