Title: The Wrong Path Author: erviniae Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path” For the Hall of Books challenge Pairing: none… yet, Erestor, Ecthelion, Glorfindel Rating: PG to eventual NC-17 Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit In having fun with his wonderful universe. Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the Right one. A/N: Erestor is around 20, or about the human age of 7. Feedback: If you would be so kind. 411 First Age, Gondolin Sitting beside the road that led to his house, the elfling watched as the elite of the warriors made their way through the third gates of the Hidden City. Erestor's eyes filled with awe at the shining armor of the warriors, while the herald’s held high the elaborate flags of the two houses that waved gently in the light breeze. The line of flautists that preceded them played a merry marching tune. Many came out of their houses to wave to the returning soldiers who were lead by Lords Glorfindel and Ecthelion. The ball that Erestor held suddenly fell as he tried to join in the waving, only to roll in front of the massive stallions. Running out to retrieve his toy with no fear, as only an elfling would do, Erestor found that he was the cause of the sudden and efficient halting of the march homeward. Looking up, he gazed upon the bright helm of a smiling soldier. Long dark hair cascaded in waves beneath the helm and as the wearer dismounted gracefully before the young one, his cloak of deep blue swung over his shoulders to reveal the dazzling armor beneath it. Erestor, frozen to his spot, could do nothing but stare at the warrior who seemed 10 feet tall to him. Suddenly, the warrior stooped down to this elfling's level so that he could talk to him personally. Taking off his spiked helm, the warrior put it easily under one arm. Cascading waves of ebony fell unbound save for two braids next to each finely pointed ear. Eyes twinkling with mirth regarded the brave little one before him. A melodious tenor spoke to the elfling, “What is your name, young one?” “My name is Erestor, what is your name?” Ecthelion threw his head back and laughed at the child's unwavering spirit. Glorfindel sat upon his steed and laughed as well at the fearlessness of youth. “My name is Ecthelion my pretty little one.” Smiled the lord of the fountain as he gently put a stray hair of the elfling’s back in place. Erestor smiled brightly at the magnificence before him. “Why did you choose this moment to cross before my soldiers?” Ecthelion wondered. “My ball, it ran away, and I do believe that your horse squished it.” Erestor replied with a look of melancholy. Looking at the flattened toy, Ecthelion sighed and shook his head. “I do believe you are correct and I shall have to replace your ball with another, would that be to your pleasing, young Erestor?” “Oh, yes, my lord!” The elfling beamed joyfully, his dark eyes filled with happiness. Ecthelion then reached for his blue velvet pouch that was securely tied upon his sword belt and began to rummage through it only to produce two pieces of wrapped hard candies. He offered both to the little one before him, who smiled brightly and lunged forward to place a sweet kiss upon the warrior's cheek in return. “Thank you so very much,” Erestor whispered and then hugged his new friend. “You are most welcome my young Erestor.” Ecthelion then stood and bowed, replacing his spiked helm and making sure that Erestor was returned safely to the side of the road once more. As Ecthelion mounted and resumed his march, Glorfindel grinned brightly. “So you have made another friend. You have such patience, Thel.” Ecthelion shrugged his shoulders, “How could I not, was he not the sweetest elfling you have ever seen?” Glorfindel could do naught but agree with his friend. Erestor ran towards the back of his house. Nearing the steps where his mother and father were relaxing in the afternoon sun, he began a joyful skipping and fell into his mother's waiting arms, hugging her tightly. “Look nana, may I eat them?” He opened his hand to show her the candy therein. “Who gave this to you, my son?” Questioned his father with curiosity. Erestor's face suddenly revealed a look of such immense affection that his little cheeks reddened from blushing. “Ecthelion,” was the preoccupied reply. Erestor's father's eyes widened in surprise, “The Lord of the Fountain?” Shaking his head Erestor actually sighed dreamily, “I love him, when I grow up I am going to marry him.” Leaning against his mother, he was shocked as his father stood and grabbed him by his sleeves, the candy effectively knocked out of his hand in the process. Dragging Erestor into the house, his mother cried out and followed her family inside of their modest home. Once inside, Erestor's father let go of his arms only to grab his chin tightly, bringing his son's gaze to his own. “You must NEVER say such things again, do you hear me!” Hissed his father, spit flying from his mouth in ire. Chin trembling, Erestor began to cry. “Males. Do. Not. Marry. It. Is. Forbidden.” He emphasized each word he spoke through clenched teeth. Looking towards his mother for support, he saw that she too was crying. “Wh ... why is it wrong?” He stammered . “Because it is the wrong path! I never want to hear such things from your lips again, do you hear me?” Erestor nodded, his mind spinning, “Why is love wrong?” He whispered. “Love is not wrong, love between males is wrong… only males and females love each other and marry. Now go to your room until dinner is ready.” “Y ... yes sir,” Erestor turned to go to his room, his shoulder's slumped in retreat. He just had his innocent little world blown apart. TBC... Title: The Wrong Path Author: erviniae Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path” For the Hall of Books challenge Chapter 2/? Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Glorfindel Rating: PG to eventual NC-17 Warning: AU, Angst, M/M Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit in having fun with his wonderful universe. Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the Right one. A/N: Erestor is now 118- past the age of Majority. Feedback: If you would be so kind. 509 First Age, Gondolin Finishing strapping on his new quiver and bow, Erestor looked around his room as his eyes came to rest upon the basket on the floor in his closet. The basket was filled with various toy balls of many sizes. Lord Ecthelion had indeed replaced his “squished” ball, ten-fold, during the twentieth year of his young life. He had kept them safe all these years. As he had kept his secret desires safe as well. Nervousness threatened to overcome him as he nearly ran down the steps into the kitchen. Kissing his mother sweetly, he took one bite of the offered breakfast, only to find he could not swallow it. “Forgive me, but I find I cannot eat this morning for excitement of my lessons.” He looked apologetically at his mother. She smiled brightly at her only child, “worry not my sweet one, enjoy this day and learn well.” “I shall,” he smiled fondly back. Almost out the door Erestor cringed at hearing his father’s voice. “Wait my son, let me look at you.” Erestor slowly turned, as his father looked him over, adjusting a strap here and there. “Go, make me proud,” commanded his father lightly. “Yes, father,” Erestor bowed his head in respect as he finally left the house to head to his first day of archery training. He had already had his sword training for the last ten years under Lord Glorfindel’s watchful eye. He was not the best swordsman, though he was adequate to hold his own in battle if need be. His studies of mathematics, history and lore were advanced and he worked weekends as a scribe in the great library of the palace. It was an honorable position for one so young. Erestor enjoyed every minute of his time there for he was allowed to read all he desired in his leisure. The main reason for Erestor’s nervousness this day was due to being under the watchful eye of Lord Ecthelion of the Fountain. For Ecthelion was in charge of the training of new archers. Though he rarely had hands on training with the Elves under his care, he would occasionally make an appearance to see how all progressed in their studies of this form of weaponry. The week before he had been handed the roster of the newest students and upon espying Erestor’s name, he had made a mental note to be there for the first day of training. Smiling to himself, Ecthelion remembered the day five years past when he, due to boredom, had joined Glorfindel in watching the sword training when his eyes were drawn to the willowy dark beauty amidst the larger built warriors in training. His gaze raked over the slender and lithe form of Erestor with a glimmer of appreciation; an appreciation that no male should look at another male with. Glorfindel had noticed the predatory and lustful look in his friend’s eyes until Ecthelion, realizing his obvious staring, looked elsewhere. Glorfindel knew that his friend had the “unnatural” attraction to males. Oh, Ecthelion did all he could to cover it up. He spent time with many maidens, often lavishing exorbitant gifts on them, always a complete and utter gentleman with them. He dined them, danced with them, sang to them, played his flute for them, so as none ever had a bad word to say about the doting Lord of the Fountain. Rumor among a few of the older lords was that Ecthelion was caught in a reprehensible act with another male when a young adult. The cohort in this delicate situation was a young warrior that was promptly sent to Beleriand, never to be heard from again. So it was that Ecthelion found himself standing before Erestor. He and his chosen warriors in charge of the actual training had walked back and forth appraising the students gathered before them. Most had that warrior build that was constructed for swords. A few had the long, graceful and lean archer’s build; broad shoulders flowing down to slender hips and long, lean legs. Neither knew it but both were trembling inside at the sight of the other. For ever since that day fifty years ago when Erestor inadvertently stopped the march of the warriors going home, he had fallen in love with the beautiful and vibrant Lord of the Fountain. At first it was an innocent elfling crush that had long since developed into love. A love that he chastised himself for feeling, a love that made him feel foul and depraved. The welcoming speech was short that was delivered by Lord Ecthelion, explaining what was expected of those standing before him on his training grounds. And as was custom, the lord then stood before each student and gave the warrior greeting. Finally coming to stand before Erestor, Ecthelion and he nodded, hands over hearts, eyes never wavering from the other, sparks flying throughout their bodies, it was torture and blissful excitement in one. Sure that all could feel it too, both looked around and to their relief none saw or cared to show they did. Two weeks passed without a visit by Ecthelion to the students. Resigned that he may not see his secret desire for some time, Erestor practiced whole-heartedly and indeed excelled at archery like Glorfindel suspected he would do. Notching an arrow, his elbow back and high, his string pulled back to his cheek, Erestor found a silky baritone coming from just behind his right ear. “Your elbow is too high, here let me show you,” Ecthelion said loudly as if appearing from thin air. Startled, Erestor jumped and in releasing his arrow, it fell with a dull thump into the grass. “Forgive me for startling you,” the dark-haired lord smiled. Standing directly behind Erestor, he slid his hands down Erestor’s arms slowly. His touch sending chills throughout the young Elf’s body. Slender, talented fingers guided his hands to the proper spots on the bow. His right hand glided up Erestor’s right arm to the elbow. That melodious voice was whispering in his ear so close that Ecthelion’s breath caused tendrils of raven hair to move gently next to a perfectly pointed ear. Elbow cradled in the lord of the fountain’s grasp, “release,” was whispered into his ear and the arrow left to find its mark, dead center. “Excellent!” remarked Ecthelion as he made to move to help another. Before doing so he spoke only for Erestor’s hearing. “You hair smells divinely, beautiful Erestor.” Erestor found those words go straight to the pit of his stomach and to his groin as he let out a tiny whimper. “If I have not misunderstood what it is we are feeling, meet me this evening here, at the moon’s highest peak.” Finding he could no longer speak, Erestor nodded once as Ecthelion moved to the next archer. Though calm on the surface, there was a war raging inside of the Lord of The Fountain. He knew this was forbidden, he had experienced the wrath such a liaison could occur first hand. But he felt such attraction to Erestor that he could barely breathe, it consumed him, it was a fire he had to douse, a thirst he needed to quench or else he should perish with want and desire. He knew it was so much more than mere lust, for that he could take care of by his own hand, no, this was strong, it overwhelmed all his senses, and it enveloped his very being… it was love. TBC….. Title: The Wrong Path Author: erviniae Chapter 3/? Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path” For the Hall of Books challenge Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Glorfindel Rating: PG to eventual NC-17 Warning: AU, Angst, M/M Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit in having fun with his wonderful universe. Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the Right one. Feedback: If you would be so kind. The moon and its secrets. Evening was torture. Time moved as slowly as the river does when its banks freeze during winter. Trying hard not to appear as jittery as he felt, Erestor decided it would be best to spend the evening in his room so as to not draw a suspicious eye to himself. After tidying up, and after a long bath, he sat on the wide window seat while longing for the moon to rise. Wrapped in a warm bathrobe, he survived the nightly knocks at his door as one by one, each parent said their goodnights before retiring for their rest. His stomach felt as if it was doing combat training; his hands began to sweat, and his heart threatened to burst forth from his chest. Willing himself to calm down, he began the task of dressing for his rendezvous with his heart’s desire. Never did he think this day would come, or even be possible to achieve. Deciding upon a simple dark tunic of deepest blue and leggings of black, he folded his sleek black hair into one thick plait and waited for quiet to settle about his house as well as the city itself. With stealth he made his way past his parent’s bedroom, down the winding stairs, through the kitchen and out to what may lie ahead. He knew his life was about to change and he found enchantment in the very prospect. Ecthelion fared much the same. Though he knew well the consequences would be dire if they were to be found out. He began to doubt. What if he were imagining their attraction? What if this was a trap by another House to expose and ensnare him? Thinking back to the way Erestor’s hair had smelled; the quiver of his skin as they touched, brought all his confidence back quickly. Standing in the line of trees out of view, Ecthelion watched as Erestor entered the training ground and he began to tremble. His legs felt weak. He was unsure they would work. Stepping out slightly, Erestor caught the movement and made his way to the line of trees. Stopping directly before Ecthelion, he gave a nervous smile to which Ecthelion offered his hand to the beauty before him. A slender hand placed itself within his hesitantly, only to be held to guide him further into the surrounding wood. They walked hand in hand for quite some time. Neither said a word but gave furtive glances to the other from time to time. Finally Ecthelion stopped, deeming them far enough away from prying eyes to just be who they were meant to be. Leaning back against a huge oak, one knee bent so as his foot lay against the rough bark, Ecthelion drew Erestor near him. Boldly, Erestor leaned his thigh against Ecthelion’s bent leg as strong yet gentle hands reached to caress his beautiful face. Ecthelion was at a loss for words. He just caressed the soft skin before him with such affection as to have Erestor lean into each caress, eyes closed and ruby mouth slightly open. Running his fingers against those luscious petal soft lips, Ecthelion found that he was very much aroused by this simple contact alone. As Erestor opened his eyes slowly, Ecthelion whimpered at the emotion he saw in them, for it was a passion that mimicked his own. Erestor’s hands began to hesitantly explore Ecthelion’s face as well. Tracing the lord’s lips with his fingertips, he gasped at finding them suddenly drawn into the mouth before him. Ecthelion lovingly licked each one slowly, bringing such sparks of desire to Erestor, that he grew harder than he had ever imagined one could. A hand caressed its way along Erestor’s jaw line, past a perfect ear and came to rest on the nape of his neck. Drawing him closer, Ecthelion forgot how to breathe as those petal soft lips inched ever nearer until they finally met in a sweet brushing of yearning. Soft, gentle kisses soon gave way to longer, more passionate needs. Leaning his body completely against Ecthelion brought their arousals into perfect contact as hands started to explore. Erestor ran his along that strong leg only to find it move to hold him in place around the waist. Hips automatically began rotating, pulsing against the other in a heated contact of want and need. Tongues began to explore every crevice of a mouth, an ear, and a neck. Heavy breathing and soft moaning broke the silence of the tranquil night as the forbidden lovers became acquainted with each other under the moonlight. Breaking their kiss, Ecthelion rested his forehead against Erestor’s. “So beautiful,” he whispered against swollen lips. “Yes…you are,” breathed Erestor as he once more took the lord’s mouth in a searing kiss that went straight to their groins…igniting the fire within their core. Ecthelion groaned loudly in reply. His hands smoothed down Erestor’s back, past slim hips to grab the sweetest mounds, both hard and yet so soft. Putting his leg down, he pulled his love against him by his beautiful ass and together they ground lustfully against each other. Erestor whimpered at the sudden contact and feeling overwhelmed with emotion, he shuddered with sensation- his hands instinctively going to the ties at Ecthelion’s leggings, then to his own, bringing their pulsating cocks together- flesh against flesh. It was wanton and desperate with pre- cum steadily slicking their glorious friction. Their kissing became frenzied, teeth biting lips, tongues being suckled as both felt the inevitable combustion start deep within their beings. Nothing else mattered at that moment…only what they were feeling, only what they were doing. Erestor’s head fell back as he let out a series of quick shuddering breaths as delicious whimpers left those exquisite lips. Watching the beauty in his passions before him brought on the release of the lord of the fountain. He closed his eyes and let go such a moan when he came that Erestor found it the most erotic thing he had ever been witness to. Their stomachs, hips and groins were covered in the thick cream of their spent passions as they stayed there holding onto one another, each with their head on the other’s shoulder. Turning heads to face each other, they shared gentle, loving kisses as the moon watched over them. “If this is wrong,” whispered Erestor with love thick in his voice, “then let me be found guilty.” TBC…