Dance With Me
Author: Hare
Parts 1/13
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, never will be. 
Timeline: This is a flashback story from Lindon-Second Age to Gondolin-First 
Age, and back again - many, many times. 
Warnings: Very explicit sexual scenes, angst, rape.
Beta: Ophelialaughs
Summary: Follow the journey of one elf as he searches for love and hope 
throughout his uncommonly common long life.


Lindon - Second Age 
He hated the boredom that periodically haunted him and now never left him. He 
loathed this responsibility and never ending pile of correspondences - the same 
whining complaining documents. It amazed him that the race of men were 
envious of the longevity of elves’ lives. The times he had encountered and lived 
amongst humans he scoffed at their awe of the Firstborn, and he wanted to 
shake some sense into them. Why could they not understand that long life just 
meant more time to fight off boredom or suffer untold losses? The daily routine, 
humdrum meetings, meaningless relationships, and hopeless memories haunted 
his every waking moment. He still remembered a time when his life was good 
and boredom was a mere inconvenience but that had all changed in the blink of 
an eye.  

Despair once again reared its ugly head and took hold of his entire being, and he 
was tired of fighting it. All these years, the agony of his loss was still vivid and 
wrenching, but he, the supposed lucky one, had survived to perform his duties.  
He literally abhorred the thought of continuing this life. Life that continued through 
the eyes of an elf that, though he appeared alive, had died many years before 
when death stole from him all hope.

His sense of responsibility was a punishment, pushing him to remain here and 
not make that final, selfish step which would let him pass on to a place of 
numbing bliss. If only he was free to end his suffering but he was trapped - 
ensnared by honor bound promises.  

He was especially weary now. His life plagued with memories whether awake or 
in dreams. Memories he had attempted to keep below the surface of his 
consciousness, and until the last few weeks had been successful. But now, he 
never knew when these recollections would erupt rendering him helpless and 
vulnerable. It was a troubling predicament for one so used to controlling his 
environment. To complicate matters, he could not obtain help from the healers as 
this would prompt questions that he had no intention of answering and lying was 
never a strong point for him. So he continued to suffer, hoping that this test of old 
recollections would pass from him before any other noticed the problem. 
Hopelessly he wondered why these dreams presented themselves now. 

As his dark eyes restlessly scanned his office, they alighted on an old crack 
meandering its way across his simple wooden desk. His long pale finger lightly 
traced the deepening crack, and he smiled faintly at the irony as he willingly 
allowed himself to reminisce… 



Gondolin - First Age
Erestor was positive that the crack in the wall had lengthened and developed 
new branches. He squinted at it fiercely, an unusual action for one with elfish 
sight, but he just had to be sure. 

*Yes that crack has definitely changed and it looks like something.*

 He tilted his head to get a better view, eyed it closely as he walked to the left 
then to the right, crossed the corridor, `placed his nose against it and slowly 
backed away. If he did not figure it out soon he was convinced he would be 
forced to pull every strand of hair out of his head.  

“What is this?” a voice boomed from down the hall. 

Pulled from his musings, a wicked smiled formed on Erestor’s lips when he heard 
the familiar voice.  

“I see is a soldier shirking his duties by daydreaming, and as one of King 
Turgon’s strategist’s I expect a more respectable performance of duties!”  

Fear actually gripped Erestor until he turned to face his accuser and saw the 
broad smile playing across his best friend’s face. 

Radiant and handsome, his egregious friend closed the distance and turned to 
face the offending crack. 

“So this is the sight which has so enchanted you my friend? Yes, yes I can see 
why you are so enthralled. The possibilities it represents are endless are they 
not? But, alas, I do think we need to contact the builder for a repair; do you not 
agree?” 

Shocked at the thought of losing his distraction Erestor pleaded, “You would not 
be so cruel as to take from me my only source of diversion while I attend to this 
tedious wretched duty!”  

Glorfindel roared his amusement at the beseeching look in Erestor’s eyes.

“It is a sad day on Arda when you and I are having a serious conversation about 
a crack in the wall, and even sadder that you would miss it should it be removed! 
You have only yourself to blame for this predicament as it was you who 
convinced us all that Idril needed a permanent guard. This assignment is but for 
a short time as Dínendhu will soon be mended and will resume his duties as 
guardian to our princess. Yet here you are protecting her by daydreaming outside 
her door! This suits you not.”  

Exasperated, Erestor tried to explain. “You do not understand the troublesome 
situation I am in here. She wants to talk about her hair, and other ellyn, and I 
cannot even begin to describe to you the things she has to say about men! That 
Hurin and Huor were ever allowed to enter our city has become a bane to my 
existence! I am forced out here in the corridor, guarding her door, out of fear for 
my sanity. She chatters incessantly about the most banal and vapid topics known 
to this realm. If I have to hear one more time how valiant and brave you are, I will 
most definitely scream!”  

Smiling and chuckling as he continued down the corridor Glorfindel taunted, 
“How can you fault her for desiring perfection?! This whining suits you not 
Erestor, and I strongly suggest you place your mind back on your duty before you 
become overwrought. As you have so wittingly reminded me in the past it is not a 
soldier’s job to think but to act and obey!” 

Erestor beamed as he watched his friend continue down the corridor and out of 
sight. It had been many months since they had such a relaxed verbal 
interchange. Tense conversations and terse rebuttals were all Glorfindel offered 
during that prior time. Erestor had attempted drawing him out but on each 
occasion Glorfindel insisted nothing was amiss. Why today Glorfindel chose to 
revert to an attitude of playfulness was completely baffling yet he refused to dwell 
on the cause. 

Pleased at this change of events, heralded by their easy banter, he turned back 
to contemplate the crack further, and as his evil mind concocted various scenes, 
all of them featuring Glorfindel, compromised and at his beck and call, he soon 
found his shift completed, and for the first time in many months he was pleased.  

Duty completed for another day, Erestor strolled the pathway back to his room in 
the House of the Fountain. He marveled at the beauty surrounding him and 
thanked the Valar that Turgon had the foresight and tenacity to plan and perfect 
this secured refuge.  

Gondolin, a city in the teeth of the Mountains in the north of Beleriand, was 
nestled within the stark beauty of this barren height, in a luscious valley.  A valley 
discovered by Turgon and secretly built upon as a safe haven.  A hidden city, so 
far spared from the consideration of the dark minions, but the inhabitants faced 
the underlying fear of Morgoth, daily. The evil that fled from Valinor was lurking, 
and beneath the everyday calm was the knowledge their discovery was possible. 
To watch the lives of the Gondolindrim one would never guess this fear existed; 
however surreptitious fearful glances skyward or out over the valley belied the 
serene façade. Morgoth, who had thus far been turned at every battle, might 
change his tactics at any moment and triumph over the elves of Middle Earth. 
And so the inhabitants did their best to make life normal while hiding in the 
mountains and keeping an eye on the horizons, hoping their day of reckoning 
would never arrive.  

Erestor knew that beyond the underlying fear there still lingered the effects of the 
crossing of Helcaraxë. This had taken its toll on the Noldor population, and 
though Erestor was grateful he and his mother had been spared the terror of that 
event he still lived with its consequences. There were precious few Eldar 
remaining, and so their free nature turned to hard stereotypical ideals.  King 
Turgon, spurred by these realities decreed that ellith should turn to childbearing 
and traditional roles, and the ellyn would fight and rule. He encouraged early 
marriages and many children while discouraging unions that would not produce 
offspring. The result was one of anger as many of the free spirited elves 
reluctantly followed their king’s wishes and found themselves in circumstances 
they would not otherwise have chosen. It was a difficult time made more difficult 
by restraint of the true nature of so many inhabitants. And yet this realm 
seemingly reminded so many of them of their home in Valinor they chose to 
remain. The beauty and comfort of their new Tirion called to them more than their 
discomfiture at the restrictions. 

As he changed from his uniform to clothes more suitably informal, Erestor 
reflected on the chief of his house, Ecthelion.  Ecthelion took the king’s edict to 
heart and married his first love Vespula. Together they bred five lively elflings in 
rapid succession - all of whom considered Erestor their personal playmate. 
Tonight he made his weekly trek to their quarters to visit the lively brood.  

Vespula had made it her duty to have Ecthelion’s bachelor friends over each 
week. Erestor, for one, did not mind her meddling as being the chief of his house 
assured Ecthelion the better cuts of meats, the best ales and wines, and freshest 
produce and baked goods. For one night each week, he was treated to the best 
fare offered in Gondolin. 

Erestor made his way briskly down the hall towards Ecthelion’s suite anticipating 
with every step the luscious repast. With a brief knock, he entered the large 
family area. Immediately three of Ecthelion’s children greeted him. 

"Erestor!" they shouted in perfect chorus and he was assaulted by three excited 
elflings before he could put out his arms to forestall their advance. Flinging 
themselves onto their captive, the elflings immediately began demanding his 
attention. 

Searching Erestor’s pockets, Baineithel thrust a pout on her lips, raised her 
disappointed face and wailed, “Where are my treats? You have forgotten my 
treats Erestor! You never forget my treats!”   

Gwilithila simultaneously pleaded for a tale, “Oh please Erestor tell us the story of 
how you slew ten orcs with one swoop of your sword! I never tire of hearing that 
tale.” As she continued her requests became increasingly more excited. “Or how 
you tore the heads off three wargs as you rescued the beautiful elleth. Or my 
favorite Erestor! When you slew the Evil One to save a special elfling.” She 
sighed deeply as she looked dreamily at Erestor for her gift of a story. 

Tinuol, Ecthelion’s only son, not interested in a tale but a treat of a different sort, 
looked around behind Erestor. “No one is accompanying you this evening?  
Where is your escort? I waited all afternoon to see what elleth would be on your 
arm and you have come alone!” He huffed, disappointment clearly outlined on his 
face.  

Chuckling, Vespula called from her chair where she was feeding her youngest, 
Meneltirn. "Let him breathe my children”  

"I do apologize for disappointing you Tinuol, but having already flirted with all the 
prettiest and available ellith I find myself out of options.” Erestor winked 
conspiratorially at Tinuol. 

He gathered up and hugged Baineithel and Gwilithila, before falling to his knees 
before them, taking one hand each, and reverently kissing the back of those 
hands he vowed, “You, my ladies, are not of age for escorts, but already your 
beauty foretells of the many broken hearts you will leave in your wake.”  

Leaving the young ellith giggling and red cheeked, he strolled over to Vespula 
and after kissing her lightly on the lips he whispered, “You, to my great regret, 
are not available.”  

Smiling playfully he lifted the blanket covering the infant Meneltirn. Having heard 
his voice so near, she was already smiling, her suckling forgotten. He kissed her 
gently, as she giggled and squirmed, his hair tickling her face, “And you have 
many years before you are available, and then I shall guard you from scoundrels 
like myself.” With a final kiss he carefully laid the blanket over the elfling.  

Vespula laughingly chided her friend, "You have no shame Erestor!"

“I held your hand and suffered your pain as you brought Limithil into the world 
Vespula! You have nothing new to show me, my lady,” he added, with a look of 
pure innocence on his face. 

The shuffling of the elflings brought his eyes back to the front door where 
Glorfindel was walking through, alone again. His preference for ellyn and his 
respect for Ecthelion and Vespula forever forbade him from bringing a 
companion or lover to these events; however, his rank as Chief of the House of 
the Golden Flower did afford him a much more respectful and restrained 
greeting.

“Well met Lord Glorfindel,” the elflings chimed together for the second time this 
evening. They were well taught on how to properly greet the lords and ladies of 
each prominent house as well as Gondolin’s royalty. Erestor saw the pride in 
Vespula as her children showed their manners. 

Erestor experienced a more odd but predictable reaction to his friend. Glorfindel’s 
uniquely-colored hair shimmered in the light of the room and Erestor recalled 
how his insides clenched the first time he had seen Glorfindel in the light of Anar. 
His beauty was pronounced even amongst the elves, and he radiated joy as he 
swaggered amongst the warriors of his house, golden hair lifting around him as if 
the breath of Manwë was focused on Glorfindel for all to glorify this creation of 
Ilúvatar’s. 

From that first glimpse, Erestor knew he was lost and had day dreamed often of 
coming into favor with Glorfindel. It was disquieting, at first, this attraction to 
another ellon, but he had since recognized this attraction as something he 
always possessed but had thus far refused to admit.

The realization that he loved Glorfindel completely astounded him. 

But Erestor was cynical as far as love was concerned, especially in the context of 
his friend. Surprisingly quickly he had found favor with Glorfindel, as a friend, and 
thus was afforded the privileged status of observing first hand how Glorfindel 
used ellyn and discarded them with nary a look backwards. He was too well 
acquainted with the fate of abandonment that awaited all of Glorfindel's lovers to 
be rushing to join their ranks, though some small part of him held out hope that 
Glorfindel would not treat him such.

The king’s edict also stayed his hand as well as his inexperience in the ways of 
loving another ellon, but most glaring was the fact that Glorfindel had never 
shown the slightest interest in him beyond friendship. Glorfindel refused to speak 
to him about his preference of bedmates keeping a firm silence about his 
unorthodox desires, and Erestor gave up hope of ever getting to the bottom of 
why Glorfindel deliberately chose to continue relationships that were frowned 
upon. It rankled, however, knowing that Ecthelion was privy to Glorfindel’s mind, 
and he refused to share the secret. It was one of the mysteries that surrounded 
the lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

Erestor, feeling a bit guilty for forgetting Baineithel’s treat, watched as Glorfindel 
gifted the elflings with his favorite treat – figs. He then greeted Vespula with a 
respectful kiss on the cheek, the love for her radiating on his face and Erestor 
understood it absolutely. Ecthelion had managed the very thing Glorfindel 
seemed to be searching for but never finding. Love and a family to come home to 
each night, combined with security and happiness. He frowned at the wisp of 
uncertainty that quickly flashed across Glorfindel’s face. It seemed harder and 
harder for Glorfindel to appear here and face his unreachable desire. Glorfindel’s 
mask fell firmly into place as he turned to greet Erestor. 

“Where is your escort? Have the ellith of our city finally banded together and 
denied you access to their fair assets?”

“Tonight, I thought I would try something different. Since we are both alone we 
will have to make do with each other,” Erestor teased. 

The humor seemed lost on Glorfindel as he quickly looked away. The easy 
banter found earlier that day died a quick death. 

Not knowing how to move on from his blunder, he was rescued from further 
embarrassment by the appearance of Ecthelion. He strode in resplendent in his 
dark blue tunic and leggings. His long dark hair loose and flowing around his 
face, he looked more like one of his elflings than the chief of a prominent house. 
As Ecthelion swept his wife off her feet for a breathtaking kiss, Erestor marveled 
at the chemistry between the two. After all their years together there seemed to 
be little to none of the fading of emotions he witnessed in so many other 
relationships. He quelled a small jolt of jealousy and laughed as Ecthelion took 
the baby from Vespula and herded them all towards the dining area. Stealing a 
glance at Glorfindel, he saw that his friend’s mask was still clearly in place, 
showing none of the earlier emotions. 

The dinner was a fine affair filled with culinary pleasures. Afterwards, Erestor was 
full and pleasantly relaxed while sipping his wine. He cautiously watched 
Glorfindel who was unconsciously licking his lips, unaware of the affect it was 
having on Erestor. Erestor gazed fascinated by the small pink tip that darted out 
from the full luscious lips to catch stray drops of wine. He was barely able stop 
himself from walking over and licking those lips for Glorfindel as he vaguely 
listened to the ongoing conversation of Ecthelion taking in the news of the day 
from his wife and elflings. This was their time to catch up with their father and 
Erestor would not dream of denying them this moment, especially since his eyes 
and mind were firmly focused on Glorfindel.   

Time after time he attempted to turn his gaze from Glorfindel only to glance back 
again and again. He watched as Glorfindel took in all the activity and he 
wondered at the small smile on his face as well as the reason why Glorfindel was 
inordinately subdued this entire evening.  Glorfindel was oddly sensitive at 
random times and Erestor had never been able to detect a pattern to these 
emotions - a further mystery of his friend. He kept his past close and rarely let 
Erestor glimpse into his life before Middle Earth. 

Ecthelion finally ushered his children out of the dining area and to their sleeping 
rooms while Vespula escorted he and Glorfindel to the study. If there was a room 
in all of Gondolin that Erestor coveted, it was this room filled from top to bottom 
with shelved books, carefully collected by and lovingly cared for by Ecthelion’s 
family. Erestor was completely drawn to them, and ran his fingers over their stiff 
bindings. Having read almost every tome here, he expected to finish the exciting 
task within the next decade. Then he would start on the library lodged at the 
House of the Pillar.  

As Vespula poured an after dinner wine, Erestor plucked a red leather bound 
book and brought it to his seat. He dourly noted that as Glorfindel moved from 
the doorway he seemed to have intentionally placed himself in the chair most 
distant from his own. 

“You are a sensualist Erestor.”

“My lady?” Erestor inquired. 

“The way you caress those books. It is most loving,” she said with one eyebrow 
raised. 

“When one lacks bed mates one turns to the dull love of a book.” Glorfindel, it 
appeared, had finally found a topic to which he could warm.

“Some of us find use for more than one of our body parts Glorfindel. You might 
try it and learn some variety in your life.”

“Lack of variety has never been a complaint.”

“My friends! None of that this evening. And you forget there is a lady present,” 
Ecthelion chided as he entered the room. 

“Please do forgive me, my lady.”  Erestor said with forced sincerity. 

Glorfindel lowered his head in mock shame. “Yes my lady, my sincere 
apologies.”

Unable to contain her laughter Vespula sputtered, “Enough! I can take no more 
of these unconvincing platitudes!”

Deliberately Ecthelion changed the topic. “Our elflings are fully asleep my dear. It 
seems that they are overly excited each time we have company, though they do 
seem to have an over exuberance for our friends here.”   

“That always bodes well for us love, as we will have an evening interruption free.”

Kissing his wife’s neck, he whispered, “Which truly bodes well for when we say 
goodnight to our friends.”

Erestor cleared his throat and Vespula, recognizing the hint, sat up quickly, 
taking up a new topic. “Oh! I heard a brilliant performance by one of the king’s 
bards.  His song was so poignant and haunting, and I felt as if I was back on the 
crossing,” she shivered, “It was an unwelcome experience but so powerful I could 
not bring myself to look away. “

As the conversation turned to talk of that harrowing journey and their time in 
Valinor, Erestor’s thoughts turned to his family. This was his silent torment, the 
secret he was unable to reveal. Though all assumed otherwise, he had not been 
born in Valinor nor did he cross the Helcaraxë. In reality his connection to the 
House of the Fountain was farcical. Though his family was of Noldor descent 
they had chosen to stay in Middle Earth, shunning the glory of Valinor, and 
enduring the darkness. But when they received news of the return of their kin 
from the white shores, his naneth had secretly confessed her desire to leave the 
woods and join with the returned Noldor. Together they had clandestinely fled 
their family home for Nevrast and left behind his beloved brother. 

Through a tenuous link, from the marriage of a now deceased distant cousin, 
Erestor became a part of the House of the Fountain – ingeniously manipulated by 
his naneth. This stroke of ingenuity had provided him with the opportunity for 
studies and his eventual employment as a strategist to King Turgon and his 
naneth was extraordinarily pleased by his success. Sadly his mother had 
disappeared during the secret trek from Nevrast to Gondolin and though he 
searched frantically for her he had finally been dragged onward by Ecthelion. 
Erestor knew that she would have thrived in Gondolin and it saddened him that 
she was not here to witness this beautiful city. He was not alone, however, as 
these three friends filled the gaps left by the disappearance of his mother and his 
abandoned brother. Still, he had truly missed his family and despaired of ever 
seeing them again.        

He had been mistaken.  

With a heavy heart Erestor recalled the horrifying scene of his cherished sibling 
as Eöl was dragged through the streets of Gondolin. His voice hysterically loud it 
echoed off the mountains as he wailed his madness – alternating between 
defiance and helplessly crying out his innocence. His brother, lover and murderer 
of the King’s sister, was not quietly facing his doom. And then, as if guided by 
Ilúvatar himself, Eöl’s eyes had fastened on his. He stood ten deep in the crowd, 
yet Eöl saw him. Erestor’s heart broke as Eöl cried out to him as brother to help 
him escape the intended death and to warn him of the evil possessed by his son, 
Maeglin. In an act of pure cowardliness, Erestor had done nothing but fade 
further into the crowd and hope no one noticed to whom Eöl’s cries were 
directed. Nevertheless he broke down and openly sobbed as Eöl was pushed 
down over the Caragdûr to his death. His thoughts and dreams were ever 
haunted by his brother’s screams as he fell.

He knew he would never reveal the secret of his heritage. His only concession to 
his past was to keep a watchful eye on his nephew Maeglin as discretely as 
possible - as Eöl’s warnings continually clanged in his head.  

His ruminations were interrupted by Vespula’s guffaw as she exited the room. 
Glorfindel had a wide brilliant smile spread across his face and Ecthelion was as 
red as the valley’s sanguiniflorus flower. Erestor realized he had missed the 
innuendo Glorfindel regularly launched at Ecthelion. This was one of Glorfindel’s 
favorite past times, teasing Ecthelion about what he lacked by not marrying him - 
the rare occasion when Glorfindel would speak, albeit in jest, of his passion for 
ellon. 

Erestor quietly watched the interplay between his friends and with a brief pang of 
expected jealousy wondered why Glorfindel refused to engage in this game with 
him. Glorfindel continued to describe the temptations of wicked delights only to 
be found in his bed, and Erestor, to his horror, began to experience stirrings in 
his loins. To cover his discomfort he laughed with the group and decided that 
beauty and wit like Glorfindel’s made him a menace and dangerous and he 
needed to put some distance between the two of them. He dared another look at 
Glorfindel only to find Glorfindel looking back at him – his mouth laughing but his 
eyes as serious and unreadable as they had been for the past two months.  He 
shivered at the unexpected attention and turned away…