A gift

Author: LoLL loll_3000(a)email(dot)it
Type: FPS
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Beta and a lot of support: Tabee and Fishy
Rating: NC17
Summary: Erestor is graced with a gift. Or not?
Warning: mpreg (a lot!), angst, smut, sap
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't make money with them. I just have
fun.

Prologue
Her hands are moving fast, steady and skilled in their job, while the
images come to life and the huge tapestry begins to tell a story. She pauses
for a while and looks at her work with a critical eye. Behind her, Yavanna
smiles and rests one hand upon her shoulder. "Thank you." she says.
Vairë nods and goes back to her task. In a corner, Irmo shakes his head
sceptically. "Children! How can you imagine children in a place where all
the She-Elves have left for Valinor?!" Vairë doesn't stop her work and he
can't see the smile radiating from her immortal face. "She-Elves have
sailed for Valinor because they couldn't stand how the world is changing.
The call of the sea was too strong to resist." "But the World of Elves is 
not
going to fade. Not now, not ever." states Yavanna Irmo shrugs. "My
brother will not be happy at all about it..."


I (Erestor)

I can't believe this is happening to me. A miracle, that's how they called 
it.
A gift from the Valar. The ultimate hope for this fading world. Now, they
look at me in disbelieve, eyes wide open and mouths in a continual
muttering of some sort of blessing. But I don't want their blessing! I don't
want their caring words, and, overall, I don't want their pity. Because, for
me, this is not a miracle, this is a monstrosity, no, worse: this is a 
curse.
This baby of mine, this thing that grows inside of me, unwanted, eating me
alive, breathing my breath, is nothing more than a cursed monster. And I
hate him! I must inform the father, Elrond told me. "Do you know who the
father is?" Do I know? Unfortunately yes. Memories of that blurred night
have been haunting me for over a month. Me, the detached Chief Advisor,
too drunk to say no, falling willingly into his arms. Pain and the smell of
sweat, of wine, sex, and more, more pain. My body breached, hushed
words against my hair, tears, screams, stains of seed and blood. His body
heaving on mine. The cold stone against my feet. His limbs sprawled over
the bed, motionless, unaware. Me running to the door and down the
corridor, fighting back tears and pain. A sudden wave of nausea. My body
cramping. And then... nothing. I told him this morning. I told him with my
dry, cold, aloof tone. A routine communication, nothing more, nothing
less. "You impregnated me, Glorfindel." Then, I turned my back and went
away. I will never forget his face. A very little revenge for what he did to
me. But better than nothing.

II (Glorfindel)

So this is true. I thought of it some sort of game, at first. But Erestor 
never
plays games. I went to speak to Elrond and he stared at me, his eyes
shimmering with barely controlled rage. "So it is you..." It seems so. And
why me? And why not another? Then I found out that Erestor was
untouched. Elrond spit it out to me with the same outraged voice of a
father whose precious daughter has been violated. But I didn't violate him!
We were both drunk from the celebration and when I saw him, he was so
alone, and desperate in his drunkenness. Everybody was having a good
time, dancing, singing, kissing... Everyone except him. When I
approached and asked him to dance, he could barely stand. I've never seen
him so frail and vulnerable. I took him for a walk, and I needed it too, to
clear my mind. We walked under the moonlight and suddenly, Erestor
began to chat, lively, with the moon painting strange shadows on his pale
skin. I just kissed him. I took him in my arms and kissed him. And he felt
so good. Sweet and tender and free. I kissed him all the way to my
quarters, I just couldn't stop. And he kissed me back, and the Valar forgive
me because only now I can see his eyes: so open, pure, trustful. I took him
on my bed. I mounted him like a mare, too drunk to understand his words,
and his pleas. To aroused to put a halt to that madness. Memories of that
night faded too quickly in long days of patrolling, in lack of sleep and in
the hot flesh of too many unknown bed partners. I never intended to hurt
him. Never.

III (Erestor)

I asked Elrond to remove this thing from me. He looked at me with a
disapproving glare and told me that I cannot think like this of a gift from
the Valar. I yelled that I don't want this... gift, and then I begged, and 
cried
and screamed again and in the end we came to an agreement: I will carry
this baby until the delivery and then Elrond will take him away from me.
I'll never have to see him, I'll never have to know about his fate. I care 
not.
I know he's going to farspeak with The Lady Galadriel: he has no clue of
how this baby will come to life. And I can't even think about it. He asked
me if I wanted some books about pregnancy but I refused. I don't want to
know what's happening inside of me, I don't want to know anything. I just
want this over.

IV (Glorfindel)

Elrond told me he wants give the baby away! I just can't believe it. And
there's nothing I can do. I have no part in this, it seems! So I went to his
study this morning, but he looked so tired and haunted that I almost forgot
all the rage and frustration and the only thing I wanted to do was to hold
him. But I didn't, of course, because Erestor never lets you in. He has 
built
a fortress with stones and thorns around him, and his heart is cold, and his
soul is dry and selfish. And I pray to the Valar he never hurts my baby 
or...

V (Erestor)

I don't know if I can take it any longer. And it's not just the sickness, 
the
strange dreams, the changes in my body and mood... but this sense of
inadequacy I feel every time I have a confrontation with the others. And it
is beginning to scare me. Because I don't know what to do. I was holding
my weekly report at the Council today and all of a sudden I grew aware of
their stares... They were not listening to my words, they were not looking
at me: they were looking at my body in, what I thought was, a curious
attempt to find out something different, some sign, or clue of my...
diversity. I wanted to say something but instead I felt tears burning my
eyes and a lump in my throat. And I had to run out, I ran fast, I didn't
know where and then, a sudden wave of nausea and I had to stop. I fell on
my knees and I throw up my breakfast, my body shaking, tears rolling
down my cheeks, bitter and salty, and a burning pain in my chest. Totally
lost in my self-commiseration.  And in this position, Glorfindel found me.

VI (Glorfindel)

I've never seen him cry. Never. Not when Celebrian left, nor when he got
the news of his father's death, nor when we were so close to losing Elrohir,
the one he loves so dearly. So, when I found him bent over, sick and
miserable I was completely unprepared. I just stood there and waited for
him to recover his composure. Then I handed him a wet towel and took a
seat on the grass, not too close to him. I watched him washing his face and
bracing himself on his arms with his head lowered and his hair hiding him
from me. We stayed like that, without speaking for a long time and I so
desperately wanted to say something smart and comforting but no wise
word came to my aid. It was he who spoke first. "You must be happy to
see me like this." Just a whisper, but strong enough to hit my ear. "Have
you so little consideration of me?" I asked barely controlling my disbelief
for such words. He said nothing. He just crossed his arms around his waist
and began to rock back and forth, his eyes sad and distant fixed over the
glittering water of the small pond. "I don't know what to do, Glorfindel. I
really don't know." The pain and the loneliness in his voice took me so
aback that I acted instinctively, gently embracing him and resting my head
against his. "So let me help you, please." We walked slowly to his rooms,
my arm never leaving his waist, his head never breaking off from my
shoulder. In that very moment, I fell in love with him.

VII (Erestor)

You know, I've never allowed anyone to come close to me the way I
allowed Glorfindel that day. Even my Elrohir, who I love dearly, I've
always tried to keep him at bay. I learnt very fast, when I was an elfling, 
to
depend just on myself and in all my life I have always had to take care of
just one person: me. They think I'm cold and detached and maybe they are
right but this has always been what helped me to carry on. Not depending
on the others is the only way for me not to be hurt and left abandoned.
But that day something went different. I don't know if it was the way he
touched me, so full of caring and real concern, or his eyes, clear and
honest, or his words and the tremor in his voice. I just know that I felt
something breaking, and all of a sudden my self-confidence was slowly
but relentlessly leaving me. With my fears, with my pain, with my proud
loneliness.  Two months has passed since that day and I've tried in any
way to rebuild that fence between us. But I failed. So I accepted his help,
trying to convince myself that it is the least he can do after what he'd 
done
to me. I realize now, that the true reason I let him in is that, for the 
first
time in my life, I needed someone by my side.

VIII (Glorfindel)

I think these have been the two hardest, strangest, most incredible months
of my whole life, of both my lives. Two months spent struggling with
morning sickness, mood swings, sudden tears, accusations, recriminations,
curses and the most unnerving Counsellor that has never crossed Arda. He
has found the source of all his troubles: me! And if the baby he's carrying
wasn't mine, I'd have already kicked him in his perfect ass. But I
understand how hard this whole situation must be for Erestor, and not just
the pregnancy, but the pressure he's constantly receiving from Elrond and
the other Advisors about the future of our baby. He is now the unwilling
subject of everyone's attentions and I can imagine this is not easy,
especially for someone as reserved as him. I wish I could tell him that I'll
take care of the baby, but the mere mention of him, or her, upsets Erestor,
so I'm trying to be supportive but not intrusive which is both hard and
frustrating because there are so many things I'd like to tell him, and there
are moments when I must restrain myself from touching him. But in the
last few days there has been a small, almost unperceivable, change in his
behaviour, at least toward me. He is more relaxed. I've taken the habit to
deliver his noon meal in his study, far from the curious stares of the other
Elves and he seems to appreciate it. He lets me stay while he eats and I 
tell
him about the patrolling, the new recruits; I tell him some gossip and he
smiles and he is so beautiful he's almost breath-taking. He's not changed a
lot but I can see he is different. His cheeks are plump, his skin looks
smoother and brighter, the dark shadows under his eyes are long gone and
his glance is now soft and liquid, like melted coal. He wears loose robes
now, because I'm sure his belly is beginning to show... We even began to
take small walks in the garden and sometimes we sit in a secluded area
before the pool and just enjoy the silence and the warmth of the sun or the
cool evening's breeze. And it is in these moments that he loses himself
completely in his thoughts. Thoughts I'm not still allowed to know, but I'm
sure they are about the baby. I can sense it, I can see it from the way his
eyes get moist and dreamy, from the brief smile that softens his features
and from the way his nervous fingers torture the fabric of his tunic.
I these moments, I take his hands in mine and he lets me, and I indulge
myself in forbidden dreams. Of a family.

IX (Erestor)

My body is changing. And I don't mean only in shape. But inside. A
constant heat that makes me shiver and have strange dreams. And this
constant longing... longing for food, longing for sleep, longing for... a
touch. I was standing before the mirror this morning, and I was studying
my body carefully, looking at the small bulge that is beginning to show in
my middle. I was still wet from my bath and the windows were wide open.
A rush of cold morning air hit my body and I felt my nipples hardening.
And suddenly they were demanding, desperately, to be touched, and I
couldn't help but do it. They were so hard and sore it almost brought tears
in my eyes. I wetted my fingers in my mouth and then I began to carefully
massage them, trying to soothe the pain. And I looked transfixed at the
sensual image trapped in the mirror. This sensual being, needing and
aroused, couldn't be me. I never indulged pleasuring myself. Never. I
thought I was stronger... But I needed it too much. I found myself kneeling
in front of the mirror, my thighs parted, staring in amazement at this
flushed Elf in front of me. Looking at his desperate hands moving all over
his body, touching, teasing, caressing. My blood was so hot, and pulsing,
that I began to feel beads of sweat running down my spine. And when I
closed my eyes I was no longer there. I was somewhere else. And I wasn't
alone. He was with me. He was touching me. He was whispering soft
words. He was touching me, with his hands and his mouth. Sucking
slowly, biting my flesh. It was my own screams that brought me back to
reality. I opened my eyes and found myself back in my room. My breath
short and ragged, my hand wet from my own seed, my face flushed. I leant
my brow upon the cold surface of the mirror. And, silently, I wept.

X (Glorfindel)

I had a strange dream last night. One of those wet dreams I had when I
was but an Elfling. And Erestor was there. He was naked and was
touching himself and he was so sensual and erotic that when I woke up I
was so hard I was aching. I looked at my erection, swollen and weeping
between my thighs, my hips were moving by their own will, brushing
slightly against the blankets, and in the very moment I stroked the head
with my thumb, I had a vision of him coming, with his eyes shut and his
lips moist and parted. I came too, with my arm pressed over my mouth in
a desperate attempt to stifle my moans. And I never came so hard in all my
life. When I went to him with his lunch he looked strange, distant I dare to
say. He barely touched his food and when I pointed that he needed to eat
more he yelled at me that this was none of my business. And then he ran
away. Tonight he hasn't joined me for our walk in the garden and I can see
the light in his chamber. I'd like so much to go to him, to talk to him. But
what can I say? He shuts me out. Me, and the rest of the world and there's
nothing I can do but wait. It seems I've done too much damage, and yet, I
don't want to hurt him any further.

XI (Erestor)

And so the Lady Galadriel arrived. I was so scared about what she would
tell me, about what she could do... But she said nothing. And she did
nothing. She just rested her hand on my belly and gave me the sweetest of
the caress, and her eyes were so sad that they broke my heart and I felt the
tears burning. I know it is the baby that makes me so moody and weak, but
nonentless it unbalances me. It is as if I'm no longer in control of my life
and emotions. That night I had a nightmare. Of a mourning and crying
crowd, and I was in the middle and everybody was staring at me, with
both sorrow and compassion. I was dressed in black and my face was pale,
paler than usual, a sick pallor, and my eyes were red, and swollen, and
distant: the eyes of someone who is losing his mind. I was close to a little
white coffin; it was so small that I took in my arms without effort and
began to rock him, singing softly an old, forgotten song it. And then I
knew who was in the coffin... my baby was in there, my unborn baby, that
I never loved. And when I raised my gaze to the crowd to say I was sorry,
I didn't mean to hurt him, I found none. Except one single lonely figure
looking at me with hatred and accusation, the same hatred and accusation I
had to endure when I was a child. And he was my father. Thunder woke
me up. I was alone in my room and I was cold, I must have run a fever
because I was shaking and the room was stifling. I stumbled out of my
bed, I needed fresh air and I had to get out of there. So I began to run in
the darkness, I ran outside in the night and I let the rain wash over me, 
but
I never stopped running. I was running from everything: from myself,
from my life, from my past, from my fears. My lungs where burning, my
sobs so violent they were almost suffocating. But I didn't stop. I kept
running until I arrived on the edge of the cliff and then I halted and I
screamed and a moment later I was held strongly within powerful arms
and if it wasn't for Glorfindel maybe I would have fallen. I don't know
how long we stayed like this, in the storm, with him holding and rocking
me like a child and me crying my soul out. I melted into his comforting
embrace and cried all the tears I had always held back in my long and
lonely life. That night, Glorfindel saved my life. And my sanity.

XII (Glorfindel)

I've never left him alone since that night. Not a single moment. I changed
my schedule and organized replacements because I know he needs me,
especially now, that his shields have fallen into pieces leaving him
completely vulnerable. I do not dare to touch him, but at night, I lay by 
his
side and I watch over him. He seems to be at peace, now, although he still
refuses to talk with me about the baby; but, at least I know he spoke with
The Lady Galadriel and whatever she told him must have been very
helpful because he looks less distressed and scared. Elrond told me that
the pregnancy is going well and the baby will be delivered in May. I asked
him what will happen with my baby when he is born and Elrond told me
that Galadriel will take care of him. Unless Erestor changes his mind.
That night, while Erestor was sleeping, I talked to my child for the fist
time and I told him that I love him so much and I'll do whatever is in my
power to keep him with me. With us.

XIII (Erestor)

Today the baby has moved. I was carrying some books from the library to
my desk when I felt something strange inside of me. It was like someone
tickling my belly from the inside with a feather. But it wasn't a feather, 
it
was him moving. I left all the books falling to the floor, scaring poor
Melpomaen to death and brought my hands to cover my abdomen. And I
felt him again, more evident this time, a sort of rolling. I don't know 
what's
happened, but when I came back to reality the room was crowded: Elrond,
Galadriel, Glorfindel and Melpomaen, who must have been the one calling
them; they were all looking at me trying to understand what was wrong
with me again. But I just couldn't speak: I was so lost in this odd 
sensation
that I had no words. So I grasped Glorfindel big hand and put it on my
belly and asked "Can you feel this?" "Oh my Gods." That's all he said and
then he was on his knees, staring at that little bulge and speaking with our
baby and it was funny and sweet at the same time. It was so different from
the other time, when The Lady made me hear his heartbeat through her.
This time was real and overwhelming. And hard, and painful at the same
time. Because I feel this life growing, and I know he depends on me,
completely, utterly; a life that never claimed to be. And it's not that I 
don't
want you, you know? It is that I never had to take care of anybody else but
me; and what is if I fail? I don't want you to suffer for my inability to be 
a
parent. I don't want you to be unhappy... And I hope the Valar will forgive
me one day because I'm not sure I can.

XIV (Glorfindel)

He let me touch him. If I bring my finger to my nose, I can still smell the
scent of his skin and it reminds me so much of milk and honey. When I
woke up this morning, he was sleeping so peacefully, with one hand rested
on his belly and the other behind his head, on the pillow. He was smiling
briefly in his sleep and I wondered if he was dreaming about the baby. Our
baby. During the night, the hem of his sleeping robe has parted and so I
was staring at a portion of his naked skin. The belly has begun to swell:
it's just a small, round bulge but I just couldn't take my eyes away from
there. I stretched out my hand and touched the skin in that spot. And I had
to close my eyes and brace myself with my free hand because the
sensation was so overwhelming that it brought tears to my eyes. I let my
fingers move briefly, savouring the smoothness, the warmth of his skin; I
followed a path to his belly button. I rested my hand wide open there,
close to his own. And I breathed and tried not to cry. And when I opened
my eyes, he was looking at me. And there was no annoyance nor rejection.
He smiled at me. And I melted. "Do you want to see me?" His voice was
low and a little sleepy. I just nodded. He parted his robe and I stared at
him, at his perfect naked body. I let my eyes wandering all over him:
delicate feet, tiny ankles, perfect claves, white, strong thighs, the 
beautiful
swelling of his belly, his chest, soft and barely fuller than usual. My hand
followed my eyes and I caressed him, worshipping every single part of
that precious body I could reach. When my fingers got close to a large,
protruding nipple, I had to stop in sudden realization. Those nipples were
made to feed, to give nourishment. Large, dark, swollen. I couldn't help
but touch one of them, circling it slowly with the tip of my finger,
savouring the thickness and the roughness of the skin in that point. I
closed my eyes again and I felt it getting harder and harder under my
touch. And I was getting hard too. So damned hard. I had to open my eyes,
I had to go away before... But when I looked at him, his stare was on me,
his eyes moist and liquid with need and some sort of emotion I couldn't
recognize at the moment. "Touch me, Glorfindel. I need so much to be
touched like this." He was begging. I lowered my gaze and I saw his shaft,
hard and almost ready, pulsing between his parted thighs. "Do you want
me.. to touch you?" A stupid question, but this time I needed to be sure.
He said nothing, just nodded. I felt like I was burning, outside for desire
and passion, and inside, for love. I caressed his moist lips with my thumb
and then I began to touch him again, over and over, with my hands, with
my fingers, brushing my hair over his skin. I teased those full, hard 
nipples
until I almost sensed the pain. I felt them getting impossibly hard and
begging to be soothed. I bathed them with my tongue and then sucked
each of them, slowly and strongly, with his hands fisted in my hair and his
moan sent a hot shiver along my body, straight to my groin. He had parted
his legs wide for me and I laid down between them, careful not to let my
weight press onto him, slowly rubbing my covered erection against his
naked one. In the very moment I pressed slightly my teeth over one of his
nipples, he screamed and began to come, pushing hard against my hip, hot
spurts covering my chest. I came at the same time. And I called his name.

XV (Erestor)
Days pass slowly. This year the snow has arrived early and everything
seems so soft and blurred that sometimes I think I'm living in a permanent
dream. I would never speak it aloud but I love this sensation, and I love to
be so taken care of. I'd never thought it would be so pleasant to have
people fussing around me but, well, it is. Even if the new robes can't hide
my pregnancy anymore. But, honestly, I don't care; it's not so bad,
especially now that the morning sickness is gone and I can eat whatever I
want. I never thought food was so tasty and delightful! And my mood
swings seem to be over too. I'm calmer now, I think I can see things in
their right perspective. A Few more months and everything will come
back to normality. Elrond and Galadriel visit me almost daily and they
look very pleased with the way things are going. I think that Galadriel will
take care of you very well, I'm sure you'll be a spoilt child. But you
deserve nothing less. The Twins are always around and it's funny to see
how much they'd wish to ask questions, especially my Elrohir who has
always been so inquisitive and curious about everything. The other day the
baby was kicking and he asked me if he could feel him. I let him and he
began to giggle madly and then Elladan joined too and he told me in his
unique Elladan-style: "There is no doubt this is the son of a crazy Balrog
Slayer and a stubborn Chief Counsellor. You must be very proud of him."
How did I feel at his words, I don't know. It was like something melted
inside of me, a sort of strange warmth, and I found myself smiling and
saying: "Yes, we are indeed." And those words were gone before I could
stop them. But I can't change my mind... it would be wrong, both for you
and for myself. Melpomaen is acting odd too. He's always been so shy
around me... but now he seems to have gained some courage and he's
trying to be as supportive and helpful he can, and he's doing very well, I
must admit, especially to keep at bay the other Advisors or people he
thinks are intruding to much. And I must say that I appreciate it with all
my heart. And then there is Glorfindel... that crazy Balrog Slayer, who
stares at me with such adoring eyes. I can't name this new feeling between
us: I'm sure that the sense of guilt is playing a big role and that once 
this is
over, things will go back to the old ways and we'll simply begin to ignore
each other again. But, for now, I enjoy his company, I enjoy the way he
takes care of me, I enjoy the way he speaks with the baby while he thinks
I'm sleeping, with his cheek upon my belly and his hands brushing my
hips. And I love the way he touches me; there is not jut a sense of guilt in
this: there is passion, strong and explosive, and affection too. He never
asks me for anything. Never. It's me craving for his touch and he seems to
read deep inside of me and he's always ready to give me what I need. You
know? I have never had a lover, nor a mate.

XVI (Glorfindel)
I've never suspected that we could have so many things in common,
Erestor and I. We both love history, art and music; he enjoys walking in
the garden at the twilight, as well as me, when the light plays strange and
mysterious effects upon the pool's surface. He loves the sound of the rain
and the white quietness of the snow. He worships the silence and long
rides in the storm. Just like me. And I've learnt so many things about his
past from Elrond, horrible, dreadful things and that helped me to
understand him better. His faked bitterness, his proud sense of
independence is nothing more than a weapon against a world that hurt him
so much. He is a caring soul, after all, I can't forget the affection he has
always showed for the twins: he has been more than a tutor, he has been
an elder brother to them, and a father too, when Elrond was lost in is pain
for Celebrian's passing. And he cares for this baby more than he would
never admit to himself. He smiles a lot in these days, when he thinks
nobody is around, and his smile is the most beautiful, sweet and
breathtaking smile I've ever, seen. He smiles, with a hand rested on his
belly and talks to the baby. I think he tells him tales. I could spend all 
my
time looking at him, at his elegant and noble figure now softer and gentler
from the pregnancy. He looks like some ancient creature, neither male nor
female, just pure and perfect. And maybe he is. After all the Valar chose
him for carrying this child. Sometimes I wonder if we are but instruments
of a mysterious plan hidden to us and far from our understanding. But I
don't care at the moment, I try to live these precious moments we share
together and I try not to think about the future too much. I enjoy the
present and this new closeness that seems to grow each day stronger and
stronger. It's more physical than emotional, since he doesn't share his 
inner
thoughts, but it's equally precious to me.

Winter has arrived and we spend every nights in front of the fireplace. I
hold him close. His naked, soft body against mine, still wet from his bath,
or fragrant with the oils I use to smooth and massage his stretched skin.
We read books, speak nonsense or discuss practical matters. The baby
kicks a lot now and though Erestor tries to take it easy and doesn't
complain, I can see his discomfort and I feel the little jumps he can't 
avoid
every time our little one begins his dance. But if move my mouth close to
his belly button and begin to sing, he suddenly gets quiet. So, every night 
I
sing a new lullaby to my son. And every night ends up with us kissing and
touching each other like horny elfings. We just can't avoid it. His body is
so sensitive and responsive that I need barely to brush his inner thigh, or 
a
swollen nipple, or that part of his neck below his ear and he is already hot
and moaning. I love to take him in my mouth, laying between his parted
legs and milking him slowly. I love the sensation of his hands gripping my
shoulders. I love the way he tries to push his hips upward. I love the way
he arcs his back when he is close, and the way he begs me. And his taste...
so unique, scented, erotic. But everything about Erestor is erotic:
pregnancy has made him sensual beyond imagination. His body seems
moulded for pleasure, so white and soft and perfect. And those nipples:
large, dark and almost constantly erect. I love to brush them under the
silky fabric of his robe, stroking them with my tongue until they get
impossibly hard and Erestor begs me to make him come. I know this
drives him mad with desire. They are his weakness, and mine too...
And I love the way he touches me, with his hands that are getting more
and more confident. He always looks me straight in my eyes while he
massages my erection with long, slow strokes and the way he bites his lip
when he quickens he pace. And when I come, he opens his mouth and lets
go a soft whisper that looses itself in my screams. I don't know how much
longer i can take this: I need him, I need to have him, bury myself inside
his body, just one time, at least. I need to make love to him and pretend
that our child was conceived that night.

XVII (Erestor)

Your father is a valiant warrior. He fought for his people, he died, burned
alive from the whip of a Balrog and came back to this world for the grace
of the Valar. I've always thought him a selfish, childish, arrogant Elf. But
he is not. He is quite the opposite. He would die again for his people, he
would die for both you and me. I can see it in his eyes: they are full of
sorrow and guilt but they speaks also of love and compassion. I've long
forgiven him for that night, the night we ended in bed together, both
drunk, the night he took me, the night you came to us... It was his fault as
well as mine. How could he have known that I had never had a lover
before? I see that he's desperately trying to make up for things: he is
incredibly sweet and tender, he touches... no, he worships my body with a
reverence that sometimes confuses me. He makes me feel beautiful and
special... Maybe we could have been lovers long ago if only... if only
what?? If only I wasn't so stubborn? If only he wasn't the jester he has
always pretended to be? Let's be realistic! He is not in love with me. He is
in love with you! He is in love with the idea of having a child. No, I'm
sorry little one, I don't want to fool myself. I don't believe in fairy 
tales.
You will go to Lothlorien and things will turn to their normal path.

XVIII (Glorfindel)
Today Elrond called for me and told me I had to go. Orcs entered our
borders, destroyed villages, slaughtered Humans and Elves. He asked me
to go with sadness in his eyes. He understood I don't want to leave Erestor,
especially now, but he knows, we both know, that I must go. This is my
duty, this is my pledge. But I wasn't prepared to the look Erestor gave me
when I had to tell him. As if his whole persona collapsed. Suddenly he
looked so thin and frightened in his loose robe, with his hands clenched in
front of his abdomen. He looked at me, without saying a word, with his
eyes darker than ever and his lips just a little parted. It was like words
were failing him. Then, a single tear fell from the corner of his eyes and a
his thin voice spoke, barely audible "don't go... please, don't go...". A
moment later, he was running, with his robe fluttering in the cold wind.
And it was in this moment that I cried. "I love you, Erestor."  I shouted
with all the strength of my lungs, I shouted to the night and the wind. I
shouted to the running figure. And then, I was shouting to the darkness.
Erestor was gone.

XIX (Erestor)
I don't remember much about the night that seemed to happen so long ago.
Just pain and shame. I never questioned him about it either. I didn't want
to know, probably for the fear of what he would say. But I'll certainly
remember last night. Forever. And I'll remember everything. Because last
night we made love. Sweet and hot, hard and passionate, so intense it
made me cry.

When he came to my room it was late at night, but I was awake, my body
worn out, my eyes sore with the crying and the baby was restless too; but,
most of all it was my heart that hurt so much. Glorfindel is leaving and I
was not ready for this. Not yet. He has slowly entered my... our lives, and
I can't give up to him anymore. Realization hit me with unbearable
violence, leaving me drained and lost. And than, those words were
echoing in my head. I love you, Erestor. Nobody had never told me. And
instead of shouting "I love you too, for the Valar sake!!" I run.

I was looking out of the windows when he knocked, trying to find some
comfort in the silent, white landscape. It was snowing again. I don't
remember how I got to the door, I don't remember either to have opened it.
I only remember Glorfindel standing in front of me, with his red rimmed
eyes and his hair and clothes drenched from the snow. He must have gone
for one of his lonely nighttime rides. He was in my arms before I could
say a word, he was crushing my body in a tight, desperate embrace
begging for forgiveness and repeating those words again and again: I love
you, Erestor, I love you. I didn't talk, I just took him inside and led him 
in
front of the fireplace. He followed me like a docile child, but his eyes 
were
speaking volumes. I disrobed him, letting his wet clothes fall on the floor.
He stood there, naked and glorious in his body, and naked and scared in
his soul. I loosened the belt and my dressing gown was pooling at my feet.
We remained silent and motionless for a long time, lost in each other.
Even the baby had got quiet. For the first time in my life I felt love. Time
could have stopped, the world collapsed under our feet and none of us
would have realized it. All my certainties were vanishing in a heartbeat,
dispelled in the pure love that I was finally seeing in those clear eyes. 
How
blind I have been, and how selfish! And now we had so little time...
"Make love to me, Glorfindel." It was a simple statement. And he did. He
made love to me, to my body and my soul.

The ghost of that distant night hanged between us for a brief moment.
Each of us had his faults to make amend to, and we did; but not with the
words, no. Words were too ephemeral. We did it with the intensity of our
love making. Every thrust, every kiss, every touch, every moan was meant
to forgive each other, and to forgive our self for the wrongs we did to you,
little, innocent, child of mine, you that never asked to come to us. He took
me slowly, the first time, preparing me with great care, never leaving my
eyes, speaking sweet words that helped me to relax. I closed my eyes
when he rolled me on my side, facing the fireplace, and began to touch
me. He brushed me, with fingers as delicate as feathers and I melted into
sensations I've never thought I could feel while his warm breath caressed
my neck. I felt light and beautiful, sensual and alive. He went on, and on,
circling and teasing, entering and withdrawing for infinite moments... and
then, suddenly, he was touching something inside of me and I was
desperately moaning, and shaking, as if all the sensations of the universe
were radiating from this hidden place to every single alive nerve of my
eager body. I felt the pain, when he entered, oh yes, I really felt it:
burning, pulsing, piercing pain that made my cry and made my breath
ragged and that brought tears to my eyes. But there is no pleasure without
pain in love, and if I say that this time I needed pain almost as much as
pleasure I'm not that far from the truth. I remember so well my hands
fisted in the carpet, the fast panting, his chest pressed against my back,
smell of sweat and arousal, and maybe blood too, while we lay motionless,
waiting for my pain to diminish. I remember so well his left arm around
my waist, our legs entangled, the light of the fireplace dancing over our
sealed bodies. Then I moved my hand behind, resting it on his upper thigh,
asking him silently to go on. He did, with maddening slow thrusts. And I
was myself anymore. There was no more Erestor of Imladris, Lord
Elrond's Chief Advisor, but just Erestor, Glorfindel's mate, Glorfindel's
lover, Glorfindel's heart. I couldn't stop to crying while he made love to
me, and I know he was crying too, silent tears in that silent hour of the
night. Tears of emotion and pain and fear and regrets. But, overall, tears 
of
joy. I screamed his name when I came so hard I thought I was loosing my
mind, and I felt him marking me on my shoulder when he came too, filling
me with his seed. He held me tight and told me again that he loved me, but
I could say nothing because I was still crying.

When all Imladris slept and the snow stopped to fall we made love again,
hard and fast. Not moaning, but screaming, not teasing but asking and
pretending. And then again, in the first ray of Anor, slow and sensual, hot
and passionate. I learned fast how to please him, I learned how to move,
how to rotate my hips, I learned when to stop and when to go on. And he
did to me things I didn't know... his tongue... sliding over my ear, along
my spine until stopping there, between my cheeks, while I couldn't breath
because, if I did, I knew I would have come in that very moment. And
then his tongue again, touching me, thrusting inside of me, fucking me and
making me come again...

Everything is so vivid and real... I feel my body burning. But now he's
gone. We are alone my little one. And I have a lot to think about, a lot of
memories to cherish, and your future to decide. In a way, to me it is as if
you were conceived last night. From an act of love, and not from an act of
pure lust. And now, I am no more frightened to love you the way you
deserve.

XX (Glorfindel)

We watched together the rising of Anor and then, I left. But when I turned
Asfaloth to The Last Homely House, he was still there, on the balcony,
with his face pale and lost under the mass of black hair, but he was smiling
and he lifted his hand to wave me goodbye. I think that, at least, he is at
peace now, and though we didn't talk a lot that night, I know that a silent
vow has been exchanged. I'll be back in time to see our son come to life.
But now, here, everything is death and pain. Orcs spared no one and our
hunt is getting harder and harder with every day passing. My warriors are
angry, they want revenge, we all want it. So much blood has been spilled
and more will be. But when I close my eyes, I can still see his face,
flushed and sensual, staring at me from the black and silky mantle of his
hair, and I can feel his body, so soft and perfect against mine and I can
hear the steady heartbeat echoing from his now chest. But, overall, I can
see the wonderful swelling of his belly where our son sleeps safe. And
with these memories, I try to carry on.

XXI (Erestor)

Today the first bud has made his appearance over Celebrian's rosebush. It
reminded me that winter is almost over, the time is almost over...  And you
haven't already come back.  But I know you will do whatever is in your
will to be here with me. I don't know why I keep on writing these letters,
no one will ever deliver them to you but they help me to shorten this
unbearable distance that takes us apart; in a way, it is as if I'm talking 
to
you and if I close my eyes, I can even pretend that you are here, and I can
see your smile. Only that no voice answers me and the silence of these
rooms where I confined myself seems suddenly louder than any noise. So
I try to keep myself busy with my job and with this letters and though
everybody is so caring and ready to help me and keep me company, I can
see that spring is affecting them all: love seems to spread his warm rays in
this land once more and everybody is now dealing with its effects.
Lord Elrond and King Thranduil, who arrived two weeks ago along with
his son Legolas, are trying to rebuild an old friendship. And something
more I suspect: I can see the sparkle in their eyes when they are together,
and the way Elrond bent over him, whispering words that make the proud
King blush like an Elfing. They are such a beautiful sight, like night and
day, like gold and onyx, and I wish them happiness and joy because
they've suffered too much. Young Price Legolas seems to have struck
Estel's heart with such a violence that I barely recognize in the now
dreamy-eyes, smiling Man the brooding Ranger we were accustomed to.
And the Twins are closer than ever, lost in each other and I'm wondering
when they will come to realization that the bound they share is tenfold
stronger and deeper than any moral convention. You should see them,
Glorfindel, the mirrored images of grace and perfection, and love.
Melpomaen and Lindir walk in the silent gardens holding hands and
whispering words of lovers. And I look to all them from afar and I can't
help but smile and hope that the Valar would look over them with
benevolent eyes. But for me there is no joy because I miss you in a way I
could have never believed possible. Everything around here reminds me of
you: the books we used to read near the fireplace, the little golden clasp
with the red flower you forgot on my nightstand, the nightshirt you almost
never wore but still carries a hint of your scent, the brush you used to
comb my hair. And, of course, the constant changing in my body that
testifies of the life growing inside of me, our son. I like to talk to him
about you, I tell him stories and we love to have small walks in that
secluded area of Celebrian's garden where you used to hide yourself when
you were, tired, or upset, or just when you needed peace. He seems to
enjoy these walks too because he gets quiet and stops his favourite
activity: to kick. I care for him a lot, you know, and I'm getting more and
more aware of his vulnerability: how can I not protect him? How can I not
feed him? How can I not take care of him? How can I not love him?
But then reason tries hard to take advantage over heart... what kind of
parent should I be? Will I be able to raise him? And, most of all, will I be
able to love him the way he needs and deserves? These and many other
questions haunt me at night, while I try to sleep. I'm attempting to imagine
how our life will be and it both amazes and scares me... How I wish you
were here, Glorfindel, how I wish you were here to tell me not to worry,
that you'll be at my side, that we'll be the best parents of all Arda, that
everything will be fine. That you love me... But you are not here and
reality pushes too hard against the walls of dreams and promises you built
around me. You know, when I look at my image in the mirror, I usually
see an old Elf who has wasted most of his life lost in his selfishness,
distant and aloofness, so full of sorrow and fear to the point of being 
blind
to the beauty of the world and of love. But sometimes I can also see an Elf
who has finally found peace, who has found someone that, only Elbereth
knows why, loves him for who he is, and, most of all, who has been
graced with the most precious of the gift: to give life. And in those
moments I smile and let my hands wander all over my skin, to absorb the
amazing sensation of a body that is no more sharp and cold but soft and
warm. And I think that nothing is more beautiful and sensual and full of
live and love of the figure that smiles back to me from the mirror. Then, I
see the lips move, whispering words I never dared to say. I love you,
Glorfindel.

XXII (Glorfindel)

I dreamt of you last night. In the dream, you are sitting under the branches
of the big tree in front of your rooms, and you are smiling at me, with the
most radiant of smiles; your belly is gone but you hold a little bundle in
you arms, cradling it with such a tenderness that makes my heart beat
faster. Then, you extend a hand and invite me to join you, and when I sit
beside you, you shift the hem of the fabric wrapped around the bundle and
the tiny face of our son looks as me with this incredible blue eyes, so 
alike
mine. A tuft of black hair comes out from behind a green soft cap. I feel
tears burning my eyes but I don't try to hold them back. I brush a tender,
white cheek and he giggles happily. He is beautiful, so small and perfect,
and so strong, indeed! He grabs my finger and grips it in his little fist.
Your laughter echoes like a silver waterfall. You turn your head to me and
close your eyes and I know you're asking me to kiss you. When I opened
my eyes I could still sense the soft moistness of your lips. And then, all
around me was death. I looked around and I remembered everything: the
attack, the battle, the fall. They outnumbered us and left none alive. None
but me, they probably thought me death and left me here, under the snow
now soiled with my own blood. But it's so cold here. I've always thought
that nothing could be worse than fire, but the cold is, the chill that 
breaks
your skin and stabs your flesh, that stops your breathing and makes your
lungs explode. It's the cold of death. I'm dying, my sweet love; but this is
not what scares me and drives me mad with sorrow: I know death, I can
deal with it. It is the thought that I'm leaving you alone, that I wasn't 
able
to fulfil my oath, that I'll never be allowed to see my son, to take him in
my arms; that I'll never see you again, that I'll never hold you anymore.
This what is really so painfully hard to accept: you trusted me and I failed
you. I hope that one day you can forgive me. And I pray the Valar to
protect you and our child. Please my love, do not give up: live for him,
live for yourself. And, if you can, keep in your heart a little bit of the 
love
I have for you.

XXIII (Erestor)

This pain... this unbearable pain... please make it stop... MAKE IT STOP
NOW! And put an end to this miserable life of mine... for my Glorfindel
will never come back to me... and I don't want to live anymore. I'm so
sorry, little one, I am cursed, we are cursed. I should have killed you as
soon as they told me about you, but I was so weak, so damned weak... and
now, you are here, fighting for life, slaughtering my body, making me
scream like a butchered lamb. And what for??' Can't you see? Can't you
see how bad life is? Can't you see how much pain there is? How much
hatred there is? Is for that you are fighting for? But I know it is too 
late... I
hope at least that your life will be less miserable than mine, that who'll
take care of you will be a good a parent and will help you to be stronger
than I was. I asked them to take you away from me as soon as you are
born. I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear a word about you. For,
by my part, everything is over.

XXIV (Glorfindel)

The Halls of Waiting are not as dark and gloomy as everybody guesses.
They are full of light, and the walls are made of the purest of the crystal,
through which you can see silver rays of a perpetual moon keeping at bay
the darkness. I don't know how long I've been here: hours, days, months or
even years, or centuries, for here, time has no value and the only thing I
can do is to let my thoughts free. And wait. Until the Master of these Halls
will call for me. My mind constantly wanders in a sort of never-ending
dream, a dream where you are alive and happy, where our son drinks his
milk from you, where we make love and sleep holding each other, where I
can feel your body, now slim but still tender from pregnancy pulsing
against mine. It's not so bad; sometimes dreams are so vivid that I can
smell your scent over me or I can hear our child's tiny voice echoing in the
emptiness of this room. But when I'm wide-awake, reality strikes me hard
and I fall, bent over the crystal floor, trying to swallow the bitter taste 
of
my bile. In those moments, I scream so loud that the crystal walls vibrate
so strong that they might shatter, and I scream until my throat is sore and
unconsciousness swallows me up again.

XXV (Erestor)

I survived, in the end. I realized that I couldn't give up the very moment I
heard your first wail: you were calling for me. So, with the little strength 
I
had, I stretched out my arms and ordered them to give you to me. They
looked at me as if I was mad: they have heard my curses and my words of
hate and death, how could I blame them? They might have thought that I
would have harmed you, or, worst, killed you... but then, the Lady
Galadriel came to me, smiling and holding you, and placed your little,
shaky body, still dampened from liquids and blood, in my arms and
everything disappeared. The pain, the fear, the heartache. There were just
us, you and me, and I realized that we have no other but us. My heart was
so close to exploding from the love I was feeling. And then you stared at
me with those eyes of yours, so blue and clear and so alike to your father's
eyes: I fell in love with you again, for the second time in such few
moments. I was crying and laughing, and I was speaking to Glorfindel too,
because he had to now how beautiful and perfect was his son. I felt inside
of me that he could hear me. Months have passed and I've slowly begin to
cherish life again: I can do it every time I look at you, when I feel your
delicate skin against mine, when I listen to your happy gurgles, when you
sleep safe in my arms. Or when you look at me with those incredible eyes
while I tell you the story of the Balrog Slayer. I think often about you
father, about how our life could have been if only... but I have no regret,
not anymore now that I know the extent of his and his Warriors sacrifice.
My hope is that the Valar are fair with him because he deserves the
greatest respect even from Them. By my part, I know I'll never be allowed
to love someone the way I loved, and still love your father; and the love he
gave me, even in the little time we had, is still so strong and alive, and
lingers inside of me, and warms my heart and lights up my life, because,
my son, beside you, that Love was the most precious of the gifts.


Epilogue

The room is silent. Two figures stand still, facing each other and no one
can tell who is the Vala and who is the Elf for so powerful is the Elf in 
his
rage and despair that he seems towering over his opponent. "Why? Why
me? Why me again?" The voice is full of a barely controlled fury. He
clenches his hands and the sound coming out from his throat recalls that of
a wounded beast. The Vala arches a bow; an annoying smirk twists his
pale mouth. "Why... why... Always asking questions, aren't you Glorfindel
o' Gondolin? I remember you so well... proud and self assured, reckless
and brave, so... full of life and merriment..." The last words come out in a
disgusted tone. Glorfindel nods: "And you hate life.... you're the Vala of
Death, after all!" Mandos turns abruptly and for a short moment
Glorfindel thinks he is going to devour him, but his voice is low and calm.
"You do not know anything about me. Never dare again to address me so."
And without waiting for a replay, the Vala of the Halls turns his back to
the Elf and departs. "Follow me." He orders. And Glorfindel follows
without protesting. The images reflecting over the crystal walls are blurred
at the beginning, but then they get clearer and, finally, Glorfindel can see
him, a little Elfling, with long black hair, a complexion so pale and 
perfect
that reminds him of the first snow. The Elfings is crying near a corpse.
The corpse is covered in blood and pieces of flash are torn away.
"Erestor..." the name escapes his lips in a strangled sob. Glorfindel
extends his hand to reach the Elfing, but the images change suddenly.
Now is a young Erestor who stares at him while a whip falls heavy over
his bare back. He is bent over and keeps his jaw clenched in the desperate
effort not to scream. A silent tear rolls down his cheek, then another, 
while
a dark, tall figure lowers the whip again. "His step-father. A Man." The
Vala spits out. But Glorfindel doesn't react; the pain is so strong that
makes it hard for him even to breath. Images follow; images of Erestor's
life where the only common denominator seems to be a deep, hopeless
loneliness. Another change and Glorfindel straightens his back: he knows
that place! It is his bedchamber. And in a sort of nightmare he finally
witnesses that terrible night. Erestor drunk and flushed, Erestor with his
eyes shining while he stares adoringly as his wrist is kissed, Erestor
unsteady while he leads him to his bed, Erestor naked, Erestor scared,
Erestor crying, Erestor begging, Erestor bleeding, Erestor pale and shaking
leaving him in his drunken slumber. Glorfindel wants to hit the cold
surface and stop the flow of images. The hate he feels toward the Vala is
now slowly turning toward himself. A howl escapes his throat and when
his fist is ready to hit the crystal the image changes again and Glorfindel
stands petrified. Erestor is smiling at him; he is naked in front of him, 
his
abdomen is full and heavy and the skin is so stretched it is almost
translucent; his hair shines like midnight rivers and the sparkle in those
beautiful eyes is full of mirth and happiness. He kisses the tip of his 
finger
and than puts the finger over his navel and then blows the kiss to him.
Then he smiles again, a wide, open and trustful smile that splits
Glorfindel's heart in two. Glorfindel smiles back and closes his eyes for a
brief moment, but when he opens them again the sweet image is far gone.
In the Halls of Healing Erestor is now screaming while he's trying to give
birth to their son. He can see the sweat dripping in pearly droplets
dampening his skin and his hair. He can hear the screams, the pleas and
the curses. He can see, no, he can feel the pain wracking his body while he
tries to push. Elrond supports him from behind while Galadriel is in front
of him with a small, silver knife. Erestor is calling his name, over and 
over
again. A scream louder and almost feral breaks over any other sound and
than everything dissolves in a grey and smoky mist. The crystal wall is
now empty. In the room someone in crying desperately, almost chocking,
and Glorfindel needs a moment to realize that those are his own sobs.
He hardly registers his own voice muttering desperate words: the pain is
too strong, so strong that the only thing he wishes for is to put an end to 
all
of that madness. He has lost his love forever. He has lost his child. He
betrayed his oath toward Erestor. He is worth nothing. Nothing. He
realizes that he must have fallen on his knees, somehow. When, he cannot
remember. "Why?" The question is a muffled moan. "You shouldn't have
done it to him. He didn't know anything, he trusted you..." But there is no
accusation in Mandos' words, just an endless sadness. Glorfindel bends his
head. "I know. I am sorry. I didn't know what I was doing that night, but I
also know that is not an excuse." What else can he say? "But I love him so
much, with all my heart and soul. I never hurt him intentionally and I'll
never hurt him again. I know he needs me... How can he carry on by
himself? Who will protect him? Who will take care of him, and of our
baby?" The words are broken by strangled sobs. "Please... let me go..."
But when he lifts his face wet from tears the Lord is gone, and he is alone
again in his unbearable despair. His body collapse over the cold, shining
floor and he tightens in a ball. Slowly, the rage begins to swell and with a
last act of will, he stands again and goes with unsteady legs to the crystal
wall were moments before images of his Erestor were chasing like
nightmares and with a feral scream he hits the wall. The surface cracks
and the crystal begins to break with a horrible, screeching sound.
Glorfindel looks at his fist, at the deep cuts bleeding and then, without
looking back he heads for the Doors and into the light. The cold hit him
again like a thousand of blades but he ignores it; he tries to understand
where he is but everything is enveloped in a white, smoky mist. Then
something reaches deep inside his mind. Voices. Look! There is one still
alive! And he begins to walk slowly in their direction.

***

It's snowing outside. In front of the fireplace Erestor holds his son and
reads him his favourite tale. They've just bathed and now are wrapped in a
soft, warm blanket. In few moments they will join the others in the Hall of
Fire for the Yule's Celebration. "DA!!!" With a little chubby finger the
Elfling points to a figure on the book. Erestor smiles and kisses his raven
hair. "Yes love, he is your father." The baby giggles happily and that
points this finger again, this time towards the door. "DA!!!"
Erestor lets go a whisper and tries to hold back the tears. Seven months
have passed and the pain is still too hard sometimes. "No, your father is
not here." "DA!!!" The baby clasps his hands and stretches out his arms.
Erestor sighs and turns his head to the door to see who is the intruder.
And a soft cry escapes his lips. For a moment they stares each other.
Erestor cradles his son tight to his chest and blinks twice and every time
he aspects to see the vision gone. But the vision is still there and is 
coming
to them, with unsteady steps. He looks tired and wounded but his eyes are
bright, full of life and love. "Glorfindel...." the name slips from his lips
and sounds so good, so sweet. A brief moments and Glorfindel is crushing
his love and his son in the strongest of the embrace. They both cry 
silently.
"H.... how...." Glorfindel shakes his head; there is time for explanations,
now he needs them. He takes Erestor's wet face in his hands and kisses
him all over. Than he looks to his son and smiles. "So beautiful... so alike
you, Erestor..." The baby is silent, enraptured in the magnificent vision of
that Elf he knows is his father. Glorfindel takes him in his arm and kisses 
a
soft cheek. "What's his name?" Erestor smiles. "Eledor." "Eledor... such a
beautiful name..." He kisses the baby again, and then kisses Erestor.
Erestor leads him near the fireplace and helps him to get rid of the wet
clothes. They sit on the carpet and Glorfindel envelopes all of them in the
blanket. Eledor is strangely almost asleep, safely shielded in the embrace
of his parents Erestor looks at his lover and kisses him on his lips, a 
slow,
long sensual kiss that holds promises of more. "Welcome home, my love".

THE END

But the sequel is in “The Night you returned”






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