Title: Light of My World (1/?) 
Author: DarkElfTemptress
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel and possible others
Rating: NC-17
Summary: From a plot bunny. Erestor's parents are killed when he's
young, and Elrond takes him in, becoming fatherly to him. Erestor
recedes into his mind, but it all changes when Glorfindel joins the
household.
Disclaimer: Happily, I do not own any elven clothing, but sadly I do
not own any elves, half-elves, or Numenoreans. I don't even own
Erestor *tear*. This is non-profit, so I believe it's perfectly legal.
If it's not, well, "Don't sue me, I'm funny." -JTHM
Warnings: Much angst, sadness, non-consensual, possible BDSM.
Author's Note/Feedback: This is my first fanfic to write, although I
have done some writing on the side. I hope it's to your taste, but
please forgive me if it is a little lacking. This is done as the first
of a series of many fanfics, as I want to hone my writing skill.
Therefore, all feedback is welcome, but flame mails will be laughed at
(you crazy little peanuts). I had started out with fifteen challenges,
and I narrowed it down to five. This is the first I decided to do.
Thanks: To: Vickie(from my school), Dallas(from my school), Aymie aka
Merrylad aka Glorfindel(from Library of Moria Forums),
akumaxtenshi/Stef(from Library of Moria Forums), Teal'c(from Promised
Lands Forums), Skywiz(from Promised Lands Forums).

Chapter One: The Ignorance of Hate

Here is the telling of the tale of Erestor, the first of his name,
since childhood through present day, told, as inadequately as it may
be, by Erestor himself.

I shall start at the beginning, but do please forgive me if I skip
unimportant amounts of times, like those when I was so insular and
self-sustaining that I had a better relationship with my candlestick
and quill than any living being, but I think them now to be long spans
of time where hardly nothing happened, and I shall tell you of any
important events that have happened in the time span which I am
speaking.

When I was very young, mayhap just 100, I was as happy as could be. I
loved my mother and father very much. My father was always the
supportive, strong, well-rounded individual, and my mother was always
the caring, wonderful, loving, kind elf. I grew up in a structured but
nurturing environment, one that offered me a full palate culturally,
intellectually, socially. I got to pick and choose everything, I got
all kinds of different foods and books and learning and people. It was
wonderful.

I remember the day with such clarity, it's amazing. It seems as if it
happened just a few hours ago it's so fresh in my memory.

The sunshine flowed in the window, making everything glow with a
comforting halo of soft, blurry light. My whole world seemed sweet,
warm. I never wanted to leave the comforting embrace of the thick,
pillowy sheets and cloudy, engulfing pillows. Every little thing
seemed perfect, and sleep still had a loose hold over my mind. I
didn't want to wake, didn't want to end this perfect moment with
waking or thinking or moving, or even breathing, but I had to. I had
to breathe, and think, and wake and move. My eyes fluttered open to
find the wonderful sight that nature had produced to soothe my soul
into ease  and wonder for the many splendors of the world.

I smiled, and looked out the window. The field was green and the
morning dew glistened like tears on the blades of grass that clashed
so perfectly, their imperfect blades somehow wove together, like
beautiful sharp notes that are far apart and yet somehow create
perfect harmony. The sky was so blue it looked almost purple, and yet
some clouds were forming on the horizon, looking half ominous and half
like fluffy cotton - white, soft, with perfect curves and circular
swirls. There was a forest on the edge of the horizon. The sun was
peaking out from over the treetops, and it created perfect glories
with the clouds only shrouding part of it. The sun seemed a yellow
egg, and the forest green of the trees, with their leaves that even at
this distance were individually noticeable to me, went together
perfectly, like two completely different beings whose lips were barely
touching, one's earthiness plainly visible, and the other burning
light and fire, passionate, yet not engulfing or consuming the other.
They were two opposites living together in perfect harmonious balance,
just like the blades of grass. And even though they were both
imperfect, what they made together was splendorous and I was glad to
be alive in such a beautiful and wonderful world.

I turned back to my room to take in the full beauty and simplicity of
the furniture and decorations that were spread about the room. The
furniture was all hand-made by my father, when he was teaching me
anything and everything about the many wonders of carpentry and
craftsmanship. There was the polished oak dresser, with all of my
hand-made clothes tucked neatly away in formidable rows, organized by
size, color, type of clothing, and how often they were worn. They were
in such pristine condition that they intoned the better part of my
being raised - neat, ordered, and kept in the best possible condition
from the horrors of the world. The polished ash desk, formidable and
with the papers neatly filed away, the inkwell on the upper-right
corner, the quill set across the top, and new papers set at the left
side. The shiny, Elmwood bookcases, with all of my studious books
about science, math, history, royal genealogies, myths, religion,
writing, mining, races, and anything and everything else I had ever
been even remotely interested in. That was something wonderful about
my parents. If I asked for any book, they immediately got five on the
subject that I wanted, and maybe even three more on subjects that were
related to the subject I liked. There were the beautiful, handmade
pictures that my mother and I had made, created from colors made from
ground flowers and other herbs diluted with water. There were some
that I had made from looking out my window on such a perfect day as
this, and they only contributed to my present mood of perfection and
splendor. The mirror that I had managed to make when I spent a weekend
with some dwarves, with beautiful, complicated silver frame and
perfect glass on top of a thin metal sheet.

Everything was perfect, and all was right in the world. Even speaking
of it I feel the same ecstatic joy at the world, although it is
somewhat dimmed by what I have experienced and all I now know. Even
then, though, I was a little too grown for the other children to
handle. I played in the forest with them, I laughed and kicked and
punched and rolled and fell and flew out of trees, that was. Yet
still, they never really accepted me as one of their own. I had a very
odd view of death at that time, one that I now regret having, for it
made me cocky and unappreciative at times. I had the view that death
is something unavoidable, and that we are all inevitably marching
towards it. Well, either going towards death or fading into the west.
That much was true, but I thought that since it was unavoidable that
we leave this earthly plane of existence, death and fading should not
be cried about, should not be a sad thing, but a thing of necessity.
Sadly, I feel that this made me a little less appreciative of my
parents than I could have been, and even though they seemed not to
mind, I now think that it is very possible that they secretly chided
me for it, when they were talking amongst themselves when I was gone.
But at the time I paid my current insecurities. Indeed, I thought that
I was the light of their lives.

But nonetheless I smiled at the joy of the world, walked out of my
bedroom, through the living room, and into the dining room. The sweet
smell of honey greeted me, mixed with the heavy scent of eggs, the
meaty scent of bacon, the tasty smell of coffee, brewed to perfection
and mixed with a hint of vanilla. It was too much for me at the time,
and I closed my eyes and just lost myself in the overwhelmingly
heavenly scents, the scents that signaled breakfast in my home. I was
lost in the sweet aromas and I could practically taste the flowing,
syrupy honey on my tongue, and the meaty, satisfying bacon, the coffee
with sugar and just a hint of something else that seemed to awaken me
mentally and physically, and the fluffy, light eggs that I knew would
be scrambled just the way I liked them. It only seemed to build on the
perfection of the day. I sat down at my usual spot, near the wall, as
my father always had the seat at the head of the table, and my mother
was always closest to the countertops, oven and stove where she had
made the food that graced our plates from what it was in nature to the
sweet, delicious, lightness that we proceeded to feed on. I ate the
food slowly, savoring every bite in my mouth.

"How did you sleep?" My mother asked smiling happily. I was aware that
she already knew from the way I was acting, but I answered her anyway,
for 'twould be rude to not answer my own mother.

"Wonderfully." I said in the elegant elvish of my people. My mother
chuckled, for she had asked me in the common speech, wanting to give
me experiences with all of the languages of the world so that I would
never be lost when I became a great, gallant warrior.

Ah, yes! I wanted to be a warrior. And yet, my view of soldiers at the
time was skewed and incorrect, and I now feel sorrow and regret for
ever holding that view. I thought that soldiers and war were
beautiful. Two, handsome, dashing elves with long hair and such an air
of honor and pride that it could practically be tasted in the air,
with two, long, slender swords, fighting on the beach while the sun
went down behind them until the good one had prevailed and the evil
had fallen. Now, however, I know that war, fighting, hardship - it is
not so.

But nonetheless, life continued for me then, impervious to the
thoughts of how blind and innocent I was, and how much harder it would
make life for me in the next few years of my life. When breakfast was
over, my mother cleared the table and sat back down, having excused no
one, and not been excused herself. She reached across the table and
touched my hand.

"Son," she whispered, "I have some wonderful news. For a while now, I
have been thinking that it would be nice to have another child. And
now I do." She touched her stomach with her other hand, and father was
just looking at me, beaming with pride. I jumped up, and ran around
the table to hug her. How wonderful! I would have a baby brother - or
sister, and I could teach it so much, see so many firsts. I could see
the first steps, hear the first laugh, watch as it drew it's first
breath into the world. I spent the rest of the morning in a tree, just
looking out at the world and thinking that the day could not get more
perfect - this had to be the happiest day of my life! Until I heard
arguing coming from my house. I ran back, to find my mother, father,
and a strange elf whom I had never met before standing there, shouting
back and forth. Anger flashed in my father's eyes and I disliked the
look of the new elf, cold, smug and burning with rage for some reason
unbeknownst to me. I watched from the doorway, and no-one noticed me
until it was over. Before I was able to process all of the information
my mind was receiving and deductions I was making as to what was
happening, a dagger flashed in the man's hand. My mother shrieked, and
I clutched the edge of the doorway, bit into my lip harder than I ever
had before so as to keep from screaming. I felt blood flow freely into
my mouth, and felt it start to run down my chin, making droplets of
red liquid that fell to the floor along with my tears, red and clear
drops of sorrow, as I would later portray in a sketch.

The events of the day had certainly taken a turn for the worse, and I
lay in my bed for the rest of the afternoon, not even coming out for
lunch and not being asked to, just crying, weeping, shedding tear
after tear after tear, more than I thought I was capable of, until
finally, I had no tears left to spend. I cried even more when I was
forgotten at lunch, for I had never been forgotten in my entire life.
But everything would change, I knew it would. I still remember his
bloodied corpse, the anger and hurt still showing in his eyes as he
fell to the floor, how he shuddered and sighed as the life was drawn
from his body by the blood that came from him. How his lifeblood later
turned darker and crusted.

My bed no longer seemed fluffy, but instead like a cold, stone bench,
and there was no comfort left in it. Nay, it seemed to me even that it
was taking comfort from me, only making my life harder and at one
point I got so angry at it that I punched it, on the wood and the
covers, until my fist was raw and bleeding. And then, I hit it some
more, to show the world that I would not give up, for I was Erestor,
and I was to be a mighty elven warrior, and when I grew older, I knew
I would kill him, I knew I would revel in doing to him what he had so
cruelly done to me, and perhaps even in taking his own father, if he
was still alive, to show him just how much pain he put me through. And
then, I would make him feel it ten times over, again and again until
he cried out to me for mercy. But I would never give him mercy or
forgiveness, never. The room seemed cold, but the pillows seemed
suffocating, and mine own mind seemed dingy and dark. I had quickly
abandoned my theory about death, and now my theory on any type of
crime was the most basic and animalistic theory there was - an eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life, a noose for a noose. I
clutched at the pillow, squeezed it in anger until my wounds came open
again and fresh blood poured onto the sheets. I weakly thought that I
would kill him, and then, I closed my eyes, and slept a fitful,
half-waking sleep.

The door to my room creaked open. That would be mother, here to
explain everything, I thought hopefully as my mind reeled from the
sleep I had just woken from. It felt as if I hadn't slept at all, and
my eyelids still seemed heavy, but I sat up as the door slowly closed.
A figure walked to the edge of my bed, but it was not mother. I opened
my mouth but a hand clapped down on it. He sat down on my bed, and I
bit his hand, ripped the flesh to bare the bone, and he screamed out
in pain and my mother came in. When she found the scene she was
outraged, and for the first time, she slapped me. And she didn't just
slap me like, oh, slap on the wrist, don't do that again. She slapped
me so hard I couldn't hear for a few minutes, and I later discovered a
huge bruise on my face. She slapped me so hard, I cried for the pain
of it, physically and mentally.

"Leave us." She said to him, her voice dripping in anger. She then
turned to me, and I backed up against the wall, my hand raised
defensively. Anger flashed in her eyes, such a pure hate that I could
scarce believe she was looking at me. "Now you listen and you listen
well, young Erestor. I have already lost one elf I love today, and you
will not take another one away from me. If you so much as touch him
again, you will no longer BE my son." She then stood and walked
angrily from the room, her footsteps making a rhythmic pounding noise
on the ground.

My mind reeled. One man she loved. Not take another. She loved this
man. Suddenly, the conversation at breakfast flashed into my mind and
realization hit me. She was with child, I did have a brother or
sister - a half brother or sister. The tears flowed much more freely,
and I buried my head in my pillow of stone, wondering how this could
be. The day started out so perfect, and now my life was a mess. I
couldn't hurt the elf that I hated. And what was even worse was that I
knew his face from somewhere. Somewhere deep in my mind, there was
some connection already they’re between him and my mother. But I could
not remember. For all of my memory tricks and for all I tried, I could
not remember.

After a while, he entered the room again, sat down on the edge of my
bed. I did not even try to call out this time; I knew that no one
would come to my rescue. His hand was now bandaged, and he looked at
me with a firey anger burning in his eyes, seeming to catch my skin on
fire and slowly burn me with his gaze. He looked me up and down and
when his eyes met mine again, they burned with another type of fire.
Sudden realization hit me and I tried vainly to escape - to no avail.
It just seemed to make him delight even more in being able to catch me
and pin me to the wall.

What horrors befell me that night I have the decency to keep to
myself, and even if I did not have that decency, I would not have the
heart to tell you for it already rips me to shreds to remember all of
this, how dazed, confused, and lost I was in my own tumultuous
emotions. Let us just say that what happened was not something that I
could look back on and laugh at. Ever. Many days passed, and they
turned into weeks, which turned into months. Nothing very eventful
happened, except for my slow decent into anger and denial. Until one
night, about seven months later.

It was the dead of night, and all was dark about me. I could see
hardly anything, but I was familiar enough with the layout of my room
to know what spaces to avoid. Take, for instance the floorboard three
feet away from my bed that makes a noise every time you step on it.
All I did to avoid that was put the heel of my right foot at the toe
of my left foot, and then the heel of my left foot at the toe of my
right foot, and take one big step that was probably about the length
of two of my feet. No sound. I smiled. I had been planning this for a
while, and had measured and memorized every step that would be needed
to do what I needed to do. I had gotten the idea from an experience
with the local healer. I had been having horrible pains in my chest
and he told me to drink a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar. I had not
been able to breathe for what seemed like an eternity. So he had taken
some of that and added something - I had not seen what. He told me it
would make the person who was now in my father's place to suffocate.
And I wouldn't be anywhere near him, so my mother could not rightly
blame me. Blame me anyway she might, but I cared not. I had my plan. I
snuck into their room, being as quiet as I possibly could, and slipped
the liquid into the bottle that was sitting on the table. I crept
back, silent as the wind, smiling to myself at the cleverness and
sneakiness of my attack. I felt oh-so-sly, smooth.

When I woke the next day, it was because of my mother's scream. I
walked into the living room to see him on the ground, almost purple. I
looked shocked, and I thought it was very convincing. She immediately
started stressing, crying. And then there was a gasp, and I noticed
water on the floor.

All through the childbirth, I was there. And I saw her slowly die,
bleed to death from the pain in her mind and her body. She left us
nothing. Rhea and I, for Rhea was what I had named her, were not given
the house; it passed instead to her sister, as was expressly specified
in my mother's will. So I was alone, with no one, and my baby sister
to think of, too. My feet made a resounding beating sound on the
ground as I walked into the forest. The elven children played on the
edge of the forest, and so I went deeper, to avoid their stares and
glares. I knew there was a small hunting cabin in the woods, and so I
walked through the almost suffocatingly tight forest. Little light
shined through the branches, and it only became denser as I walked
along. I sighed, relieved, when I found the hunting cabin situated in
the center of the forest. It was made of logs and a thatched roof, but
it was very sturdy, and cozy. There were no books inside, other than a
guestbook. I wrote my name in, and neatly put in the date I arrived,
leaving blank the space for when I would leave, if I would leave. I
could see no event which would make me leave. There were two beds, an
oven, two counters, and a desk. There was also a bow and some arrows,
and a fishing pole. I was thankful for that, for I had no weapons.
There were only two windows, but they were on the west and south side,
so the cabin would always be a little warmer than the outside. There
was a sink with a running tap to a small river just outside the cabin.
The water was cold, but it had an odd taste to it. It tasted so earthy
and fresh, I felt more alive just by drinking it. I could taste the
forest in the water from the water in the forest, and I felt as if I
could smell the moss and branches and every other earthy thing within
the forest just from the scent of the water.

It took me a little while to get Rhea to eat the mashed food I was
giving her, after I returned from hunting while she slept, but
eventually she ate some. But I knew that it would not do, and after
about a week, she lost weight. Then, when it was raining softly
outside, a beautiful maiden came in through the door. She had hair the
color of an autumn forest, browns and reds, so much so that I thought
at first she had to be an illusion. But it was not so, she was real,
with eyes that seemed like two suns, golden and blue on the edges. She
smiled at me, and her lips seemed to complete the feeling of a summer
sunrise that her entire body gave off. I stuttered a hello and she
replied with a musical voice so soft and wonderful I was awed. I
offered her some deer meat and she happily took it, thanking me for my
kindness.

Then, she saw Rhea. I noticed that Rhea had red blondish hair that was
the same color as the strangers, and I suddenly realized I had not
asked her name. But before I could ask, as if she could see into my
very mind, she spoke.

"I am Laeraur. And who is that?" She asked, cocking her head and
making a face at Rhea. Rhea smiled and opened her mouth and looked
blankly at Laeraur, although in her eyes you could see laughter.

"That's Rhea, she's my sister." I said, watching Laeraur pick up Rhea
and laugh, and Rhea imitated the laugh and the smile. I felt a sadness
growing in me. "Our mother died in childbirth." I whispered, Laeraur
looked at me and sincerely apologized, and I nodded, and looked at
them playing. I knew that I could not take care of Rhea. I was no
woman, and Rhea needed a mother's milk, not mashed meat. A tear rolled
down my cheek and when I slept that night, I cried myself to sleep,
curled up in a small ball.

In the morning, I saw that Laeraur had made breakfast. It was nothing
compared to the breakfast I had eaten on the day my father died, but
it was something to eat. It was food, and that was good enough. She
then packed her things with nimble fingers and made her bed neatly. I
knew that she would come to bade me goodbye but I shook my head. "Say
no farewell to me." I whispered. She looked at me, confused and hurt,
but I continued nonetheless. "Rhea is but a babe, very young. And I am
no woman - I have no milk, nor any cows to provide any. Mashed meat
will not suffice forever. An infant needs more. If you would take her,
I would give her to you. Just, please, keep her name." I said this in
a soft tone and when I looked up at Laeraur, there were tears on my
cheeks. I felt worse than my mother, abandoning one of my own blood.
But Laeraur understood. She ruffled my hair, for she was older than me
and it seemed a playful, comforting gesture. One that required no more
closeness than we had and yet somehow had meaning. She picked the
infant up and left, and I didn't even move. I just sat there, and
looked off into the distance. Months passed, and I kept to myself more
and more. Eventually, I started painting on the walls. No one asked me
of the paintings and I did not tell. But on the walls was everyone I
had known who had died. My grandparents, even though I had only seen
paintings of them, and been told of their personalities. I heard that
they had died in some great war. And then I painted my mother, father,
and even my mother's lover. And then, I painted myself. For I, or at
least I as I was, had died. I dared not paint my sister, for I wanted
not to try and provide any ominous prophecy. Then I painted the
animals that I had killed, and made a forest scene around them. I even
did the ceiling, the floor, and eventually the furniture.

By the time Lord Elrond had come I had decorated the outside and
started on the windows. But by the time Lord Elrond came, the deer,
birds, rabbits, and squirrels had started to disappear, either from my
eating them, or from winter. I rarely saw one, and even then, I could
not catch them well. The fish seemed to be getting smart to my lure,
and I could not spear them. I remember the day that he came, it was
snowing, and hard, and he came in looking very serious. When he saw me
laying on the bed, thin and ragged, he seemed to immediately take pity
on me. Which wasn't good. It seemed like I was two different people,
from even who I was yesterday, a stranger to myself. And I didn't like
him pitying me. What right had he to pity me - he knew nothing of my
life! He knew nothing of what I was like or who I was, or even why I
was here. I quietly sulked in the corner, but he said nothing to me.
So I pretended to sleep, and I could still feel him watching me, his
eyes boring holes into my mind. When I turned around, he, too, was
asleep. I had been imaging his eyes. I sulked some more, mentally
berating myself for imagining that. Then, I looked up to the counter.
Lembas and Water was sitting there, with a small piece of paper that
had my name neatly printed in elven script. The bed made ruffling
noises as I stood, and my feet beat a steady, quiet rhythm against the
ground as I walked over to the counter, not caring if I made noise. I
stared at the lembas. It looked good, but I was suspicious. Was this
some kind of trap? I could only find out one way. I cautiously nibbled
at it to find it was lembas, and the water had the same foresty taste
I had become accustomed to. I eagerly ate and drank, and when all was
finished, which seemed for me much too fast, I realized I had barely
tasted them, other than the first bite. I sighed and eased myself back
into bed, and slept.

The snow was only worse the next day and Elrond could not go out. This
time when he was eating his breakfast, he handed me half of a piece of
lembas. I took it cautiously. He said nothing and acted as if nothing
had happened, concentrated on his meal. I ate the lembas with some
water. This continued at lunch, but this time he said something to me,
something quiet.

"Would you like some lembas?" He asked, with impeccable elvish. I
answered yes and he seemed surprised by my young voice. Then again, so
was I. My features had hardened, and I now had the look of someone
long bereft of comforts. At dinner, when he handed me the lembas, he
asked me my name.

"Erestor." I answered quietly. But his next question took more control
for me to answer, without my voice breaking or shedding a tear.

"What of your family, Erestor?"

"My father was killed by my mother's lover, who was killed by me. My
mother died during childbirth, and I had to give my sister to a
passing maiden." I looked at him, my features cold and hard as I
inwardly gripped my emotions, making sure that I showed none. He
looked at me with caring eyes and I immediately looked away. I had not
seen such eyes in a long time. Why would he care for me?

"Did you do all of this?" He asked, motioning with his hand to the
walls. I nodded, but made no other move. I could feel his eyes on me.
Caring for me. My lip curled and I made as if to walk out, but I could
not. The door wouldn't even open.

"You're stuck with me for now, I'm afraid." I stood still, staring at
the wall, beyond the wall, trying to burn a hole in the wall with my
eyes. I didn't like Elrond at the moment, to be quite honest.

In the three days that we were trapped, he managed to get more out of
me than I would like to admit. But he did. And on the fourth day, when
he walked outside, he turned to me and spoke with his perfect elvish.

"I am founding a city called Imladris. My party should be meeting me
soon, a little further down the river, near the mountains. If you
would come, you could live there, under my protection." I liked the
idea, being near food and drink, not having to worry about anything.
But I didn't like the word protection. My mental lip curled at it. I
could protect myself. But I said nothing, afraid of souring the deal,
and I walked lightly on the grass behind him, letting him lead me
away. But I didn't do so without writing in the date I was leaving in
the guestbook, some seventeen months later. It was only then that I
realized that two birthdays had passed, and I hadn't even noticed. I
felt sad about that, but I just shrugged it off and followed my new
friend.

As time passed, I saw him as a father figure. But when Imladris was
fully founded, he put me in charge of my favorite thing - decorating.
And decorate I did. I made many tapestries and paintings, and then I
expanded the library by a considerable amount, suggesting to him to
get a book whenever we could find one, and make copies of those people
weren't willing to sell. The library was soon comparable to the
fantasy one of my childhood youth. I would sit in there for weeks at a
time, not even coming out to eat or sleep. I just read the books, over
and over again, myths and truths and beauties, everything. I loved the
books, and I loved decorating. I would make something new at least
once a week, and read at least seven books in three days, if I was
left undisturbed and alone.

Years and years and years passed. I saw Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir
grow up, getting the same beautiful, streaming brown hair of their
father, and yet I felt saddened every time I looked at them, reminded
painfully of the sister I had to let go of, for I still felt guilty
about it. I kept mostly to myself, not wanting to cause myself pain by
looking at them, or speaking to them. Days and nights passed quickly
and I became more and more intelligent, though for all my intelligence
I had not wisdom.



Chapter Two: The Wisdom of Love

-------------------------------------------
Cuz when I look at you I can see an angel in your eyes
But if I look deeper inside I see a freakish little side.
Like a devil in disguise
You're always full of surprises!
- EMINEM
-------------------------------------------


It was a typical day when I woke up, but as I stared at the note and
frowned I saw that the day had not stayed very typical at all. Every
day, I would awake, go down to the library, cold or not, and read
until the letters blurred and sometimes I would fall asleep over a
book. I took my meals in the library, hardly ever seeing another soul
walk through. That was the way things had been, that was the way
things were. Elrond never told me to do any differently and I had
never asked why.

But now, I was asked to join the Elrond family while they had a meal
in their dining room. I walked up to the room with a cold look on my
face, distant as the look I always wore, and a frown curling my lips
down. My footsteps did not echo through the corridors alone, and it
was a pity. I would have much more liked the silence to ponder my
thoughts and wonder at life then having to say hello to everyone I
passed, as they wanted to get in my favor to perhaps make Elrond favor
them more.

When I finally reached there my eyes had become alight with anger. I
looked up and my heart skipped a beat. It felt like all of the wind
had been torn from my lungs and replaced with emptiness. After a
moment of awe, though, I got my mind under control. My heart was
racing, for there sat a beautiful elven lord. His hair was like spun
gold, flowing over perfect shoulders and around a neck of ivory skin
that supported a beautifully feminine face with two, shockingly ice
blue eyes. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly very dry and I tried to
keep my cold face. I pushed the thoughts of shoving him roughly onto
the table and taking him there out of my mind. Not in front of Elrond.
He was like a father to me. No, I couldn't. I walked up to the table,
my footsteps echoing in the small room. I thought that my urges were
insane, no matter how much he looked like a woman, he was not. And no
matter how much I wanted to it was physically impossible.

I sat down at the table and looked up at Elrond with hollow eyes. When
he spoke, his voice echoed throughout the room and it was strong,
commanding, yet gentle in a way that I still don't fully understand.
it seemed in it's very essence to guide, if you were off-course by
much you would swerve, but if you were near, it would nudge you into
being correct.

"Erestor, are you not going to bid our new guest good day?" I was
sitting right next to him, yet I couldn't bear to look at him, lest my
feelings resurface, so I looked at the wall and when my voice rang out
it was thin and hollow. It had little meaning, little feeling, little
of anything.

"Good day. I hope you enjoy your time here." I then started to eat,
munching my food meaningfully and yet never making eye contact with
the feminine elf that was next to me. Ah yes, he was feminine, and yet
at the same time... at the same time, he was not, he was proud,
commanding. He was alike to my father. I had to keep from flinching
when I thought of that - no, no, that was not appropriate at all, and
he wasn't like my father - he was more like Laeraur, golden, beautiful,
like a sunset on a summer morn. Yes, I thought, Laeraur, she would be
my refuge. I would think of her whenever I got feelings for
Glorfindel. I thought that the thought of Laeraur was a good thing,
for it was then that Elrond spoke again.

"Erestor, if you do not make eye contact with our guest, then you will
face the consequences of your actions and do not blame me if you
dislike them." I sighed and looked over at Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir
first. Elladan and Elrohir looked at me questioningly. They had
practically grown up with me, and I was closer to them than I was to
this new elven lord, even if by "close" I meant that I had seen them
and they had seen me and we both knew that we were no harm to each
other. I had never really played with them or laughed with them at
all. And Arwen just looked at me with the same eyes as Elrond, those
eyes that just seemed to push and pull you until you were on the right
path, the path that was best for you.

I turned to Glorfindel, thinking of Laeraur again. But it did not help
and I had to swallow once more when his eyes looked at me
questioningly, full of kindness and purity. Obviously, Namo had not
touched him yet.

"Welcome." I said, almost angrily. How could he look so kind and
untouched by death when I could have been so much more if my mother
had not betrayed the one she supposedly loved. I glared sourly at my
food. I was no longer hungry. "May I be excused?" I asked, anger
lining my voice.

"Tomorrow I will not expect this." Elrond said quietly. I nodded, and
left, glaring at the floor, my mind racing, my temper flaring. I could
not stand the people outside, and I ran to my room, going with all the
speed I could, I ran, I put all of my strength into my legs and I ran
straight past my room and out into the forest. By the time I reached
the river that ran through Rivendell the tears had blurred my vision
to the point where I was running on instinct, purely going from the
maps I had seen and the trails I had traversed. I knelt by the stream.

I splashed the water on my face and saw my reflection in the stream. I
looked so angry, so horrible and disheveled. Could that be the same
little elf who once so happily played in a forest? Could that be the
same, innocent elf who laughed and played with the other children? My
memory of those times was warped, and I didn't recall how much I used
to stay away from them. I thought then that when I was a child, I had
it all, happiness, wonderful bliss that comes from a perfect life. And
now, what was I? The only living family member I had - if she was
still living, that was - was not with me, away, far, where I could not
reach her. I wept even harder then, disgraced at what I had done. I
tried to hold back the tears, but they just kept coming. I didn't even
notice how many hours I spent crying, kneeling near the river.
Eventually, though, I tumbled to the ground and fell into a deep
sleep.

|~*~|~*~*~|~*~*~*~|~*~*~|~*~|

A hand rested gently on my shoulder. I awoke with a start. Elrond was
standing over me, frowning. I felt something on my head and reached up
to touch it, but Elrond grabbed my hand with a strong grip that warned
pain if I defied it. I set my hand down, leaned back into the
wonderful, enveloping comfort that was the bed.

"What happened?" I whispered hollowly, feeling stiffness in my joints
and pain in my limbs. Could I have fallen into the water? Would I not
have felt the coldness, wouldn't it have woken me up?

"An elf can die of grief." Elrond whispered. I looked up at him,
glaring coldly at him. I had never shared my grief with him and I did
not intend to begin to. He shook his head and I stopped myself, still
glaring at him. "Anger," He whispered, "Is another form of hurt." That
stopped me. My eyebrows creased, and I could feel it was true, but I
shook my head in denial. No, no I was not angry just because of my
feeling of loss. "Will you move on from your grief or linger in it
until it consumes you? Thinking about the past is healthy. Living in
it is not. And before you start to try and ignore our new friend,
remember, it was he who saved your life." I glared at Elrond, and he
looked at me wisely and then left the room. I turned over angrily and
lay there for the longest time, just looking at the wall and glaring
and thinking about how angry I was. And yet I knew not where my anger
had come from.

Later that day He came to see me. I saw him only when he sat down on
my bed. I jumped, as did my extremities, well, one of them at least. I
nearly stretched in order to get closed to him, but I refrained. I
looked coldly at him. "What do you want?" I growled. He looked at me
sagely and then leaned down to kiss me on my neck. As soon as his
tongue touched the thin, delicate skin on my neck I could no longer
hold back and I moaned, pressing greedily against his body. He pulled
away and anger flashed in my eyes, overwhelming my being. How dare he!
How dare he make me love him! How dare he be so wonderful and
beautiful and dangerously kind?! I turned away from him, trying to
block him out of my mind. He just caressed my back gently and every
time his hand touched the skin on my back my toes curled so much I
felt a pain in my leg and I let out an audible groan.

"Get away from me you filthy dog." I cried tears through the passion
that I felt. I knew that I would lose him, I always lose my beloveds,
always, always. They always leave or fall into ruin as a good city can
fall into the hands of evil, slowly but surely. To my amazement, he
smiled. He bent down closer to me again, but I curled up in a ball and
thanked Eru that Elrond entered then, for I could feel his breath
against my neck and my body begged my mind for release but no, no, not
while Elrond was here. Elrond chased him away and then thoroughly
apologized.

To my surprise, Elrond kept him away from me for over two weeks, but I
knew that if he wanted to, the blonde elf would have found a way to
see me. Over those two weeks, my wounds healed (as it turned out, I
HAD lost consciousness and fallen into the stream, where I had been
washed about two miles downstream and caught in several undertows
before the new member of Elrond's house had found me.), but my mind
did not. I kept thinking back over that kiss, how wonderful it had
been, how sweet, how the passion had spread through my entire body
like fire. I wanted to see him, and I knew that I would find a way,
even with Elrond standing twixt us.

There was a nice little party one night, and I feigned ill to not
attend. For a while I kept in the shadows of the trees, looking for
Glorfindel when I realized that he was not there. If it had not been
for the hand that clapped around my mouth, everyone would have heard
me moan as a pair of soft, moist lips pressed against my neck.

"We must talk." I whispered, my voice rent with passion. Glorfindel
seemed to mock me with his eyes, but there was something to them,
something I had never seen before. He seemed happy and yet greedily
hungry at the same time, predatory almost. I grabbed his wrist, trying
myself to be the way he was, and pulled him in the direction I wished
him to go, further into the forest. His mouth twisted at one side in a
wry smile, as if to say that if the circumstances were different he
would not have gone along.

We moved deeper into the forest until we got to a small series of
grottos big enough for six elves each, and some of them more. I turned
to him, and he had already started to strip. I swallowed, looking at
his body in shock, feeling as if I could melt into the earth and just
feel the waves of passion rush through my body like a stream through
the ground. When he took his pants off I think I even audibly groaned.
He stood up straight to show his body, in all its glory. His member
was erect as he stood, proud and prominent, his muscles bulging.

I slowly started pulling off my clothes. I had not stripped in front
of anyone since I was very young and it was up to my mother to wash
me, and I shied from showing my body to anyone. He stepped forward,
seemingly understanding, his breathing heavy and he gently untied my
shirt, and leaned to kiss me on my neck. I did groan this time, and
pressed my body against him. It made me feel bad that all it took was
one kiss to make me want to weep with passion, and to just hand my
body, my self over to this elf I barely knew. I still believed that
what we were doing was horrendous, but love will make you do very odd
things. I let the shirt slip off of me and gulped as I knew where he
would have to undress me next. I could barely bring myself to think
about it, but he wrapped me in his arms, kissed me gently.

"I will not do anything you do not want me to." He whispered gently,
soothing my nerves slightly, and yet just enough. I nodded, and he
pressed his lips gently against my neck as he undid the laces on my
pants and then pulled them gently from me. It felt wondrous to be
loose from the ever-tightening constraint, but I felt like I had lost
something too. He looked at my eyes, seeming to understand and not
taking my body in with his eyes, even though I could see that he
desperately wanted to. He slid into the water, warm and welcoming, and
dived under the surface.

Timidly, I walked towards the stream. I pondered for a moment whether
to go in, bit my lip, and then continued cautiously into the waters,
seemingly the troubled waters of my mind, for I felt that I was acting
extremely childishly, I felt that I had never grown up. In an odd way,
despite all of my maturity, I had not. I looked at him, for he was now
before me, his head turned to one side like a bird inspecting a morsel
of food.

"What troubles you?" He whispered, his voice still husky with passion.
I gulped, shook my head and pressed my lips to him, hoping vainly to
quiet him. He pulled away stubbornly, and looked at me with eyes
overwhelmed with passion, and concern of a kind.

"I... I-I did not... didn't have a happy childhood." I whispered, the
words flooding from me and tears filling my eyes. I tried to wipe them
away, but my hands were wet. No, I told myself. Not now, you will not
cry. But no matter how much I wanted not to, I wept against his
shoulder, and he brought me close against his body. I felt rent in two
by the controlling emotions that fought for dominance in my mind -
passion and sorrow. Any moral or ethical decisions had long passed
from my mind, and now there was just this sadness and overwhelming
want that tried to consume me. Soon, I was breathing heavily, crying,
pushing myself against him to feel the muscles underneath mine, and
leaning against him for comfort all at once. When I had cried all I
could I looked up at him. His eyes had lost no sympathy. He seemed to
immediately understand all that had happened to me. And with that
understanding I remembered even more, and my instincts screamed to
pull away from him, but my body pulled him closer.

He kissed me gently, and my mind immediately leapt to a conclusion. He
had comforted me, and now it was my turn to cater to his needs. A sob
wracked my body, and he pulled away once more. My body screamed for
him to come nearer, lusting for that warm, beautiful feeling that I
had every time he touched me, and yet my mind and spirit recoiled with
horror, facing a demon that no longer existed.

"I will not do this unless you want to." He repeated, looking at me
with a strong concern, love, want. I nodded, pulled him closer, tried
to forget my sorrow. He gently kissed me, moving down my neck and
rolling his tongue wonderfully over muscles I had never noticed or
paid any heed to before. I bit my lip as he moved to my breast and
started gently biting and sucking at it. I groan, and although my
sorrow was half-forgotten it still loomed in my mind, waiting.

He pressed a hand gently against the source of my burning desire and I
moaned. But my mind raced, my head swam. I kissed him passionately,
trying to hide the fact that I felt out of place. He stuck one finger
in me, then two, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing, hoping that he
thought it was of passion, for in part it was. I wanted every action
that he made towards me, but at the same time I was torn in two by
this feeling of repetition and a feeling of sadness for what I should
have left in the past, long ago. He moved his mouth all up and down my
torso and I felt like there was so much want and desire, so much firey
passion in me that I might burst and come then but it was not so.

I had never felt this way before, not even with Laeraur. It was
overwhelming. I gulped as he pushed himself into me, gently, almost
kindly. It felt amazing as he moved up and down and I pushed up when
he was pushing down, so eager was my body. I kissed him, rolling my
tongue in his mouth, waging a war with his soft, fleshy tongue. I then
moved to his neck, kissing and sucking and trying desperately to
imitate what he had done to me. I came before he did, and it felt
amazing. I tried to be considerate and push on, but my muscles felt
spent. Finally, he came inside me and I felt the warmth of his seed
push into my body. I felt so warm and at home. I had never felt this
way before, ever.

I wept then, as he gently pulled his member from mine, and brought me
closer to his breast. I wept for my memories of horrible child years,
I wept for the fact that I was quite old to have never experienced
such a feeling of being at home, safe, secure, and fulfilled as I had
then, in all of my studying, in all of my quests between the pages of
a book to find happiness or even half of the contentment that others
felt, in all of my searching for something to hold on to, something
consistent in a life where all abandoned me, I had never truly found
love. I had never found passion.

By the time that I was through crying, we were both utterly spent. We
gently climbed from the waters and dressed. I looked at him, wondering
if it was the last time I would see his beautiful body naked under the
moonlight, wondering if he would abandon me and leave me as everything
else in my life seemed to. But I had trusted him, given him a part of
me that no one else had shared, not of my free will. When we were both
done dressing, I pulled him in close for a last, beautifully yearning
kiss that seemed to last an eternity. I drew away and looked at him.

He seemed to sense my insecurity, for he leaned close to me and
whispered gently, "I'll always love you. And I promise I'll never
leave you." He then turned away and walked into the night.

I don't know where I mustered the strength to walk the full distance
back to my bedchamber, but I did so without falling, always thinking.
In all of my years, in all of the time that I had sought solitude in
the pages of a book, buried myself in studies for I thought that some
sort of affection would be given to me by someone who no longer lived,
I had never felt anything like this, never thought that I could find
love in another elf. When I got to my bed, I didn't even undress, I
just collapsed onto it and immediately fell into a very deep sleep.

|  ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~ |  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~  |

When I awoke, he was there, sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at
me with a contented gaze. Next to him was a tray of food, and he
smiled.

"Elrond ordered me not to come and visit you. So naturally I thought
this the perfect time to bring you breakfast." He smiled warmly, and I
bashfully, for I still respected Elrond. He was the closest thing to a
father that I had had in a long time. Glorfindel seemed somehow to
read this in my eyes, for he leaned down and kissed my forehead, and
whispered gently. "Este vana er, met uva quenevayes si."

He brought something from one of his pockets and bit his lip, smiling
at the same time, creating a very odd image. He handed it to me, and I
looked at it with foreign eyes. It was a small box with a golden paint
on it, and a ribbon wrapped around it. "Anna." He said, now smiling
fully. It was obvious to me what it was, but I dared not open it. I
had not been given a gift, not a true one since... not since my mother...
not since that elf. I opened it cautiously, and there before me was a
ring, a yellow jewel imbedded in it, some kind of craftsmanship I had
never seen before. The yellow crystal formed the head of a snake, and
the rest of the ring was a green stone which shone wonderfully in the
light (possibly emerald?). I smiled, slipped it on my finger. How he
had gotten the crystals to fit together like that, I'll never know,
but he did, and it was beautiful.

I kissed him, rolling my tongue inside his mouth. I was getting more
used to kissing him, for my hand now went straight to the back of his
head and pulled him closer. He leaned gently forward, laying himself
out, his whole body pressed against me. I had forgotten all about the
breakfast he had brought. But he hadn't. He pulled back, and plucked a
cherry from the mixture of fruits, put it in his mouth and then leaned
down to kiss me. The combined flavor of the cherry and the natural
flavor that he had to him - salty and sweet - seemed to overwhelm my
sense of taste. I kissed him with more fervor, with more passion, and
he returned my ministrations. Eventually, he pulled away, his breath
rushed, and looked at me with burning desire. I ate the cherry and
smiled, picking out another fruit, one I had never seen before from
the bowl.

It was orange, and I had never seen such a fruit before. I cannot
remember it's name - Glrofindel would. It was exotic, sweet, soft, and
watery, and yet at the same time overwhelmingly strong. We shared the
breakfast for some time, snacking on odd fruits that I had never seen
before - of course he had apples, peaches, pears, oranges, grapes,
cherries, strawberries, and even a lemon that made a queer feeling
spread throughout my body when we shared it. But there were so many
others. Pineapples, grapefruits, Honeydew melons, watermelons,
citruses of all kinds, kiwis. When the breakfast was finished, he lay
next to me, stroking my chest. I turned to him. I knew that if I did
anything, it would come much easier than last night did.

So I kissed him and we fell into the soft embrace of the blankets. He
immediately started to undress me, and I felt a wonderful, tingling
sensation spread through my body when he stroked the bare skin of my
exposed torso. The feeling was even more when he kissed it, his soft,
fleshy tongue rolling over the tender flesh of my breast, nibbling
lightly at my nipple, tracing lines of passion down, ever closer to
the burning source of my passion. I felt the sensitivity of my skin
grow as he moved steadily down, his hands traveling slightly ahead of
his mouth to untie the laces. He finally reached my pants, and he
pulled them off gently. He brought his head up and I gave a groan of
exasperation when he did. I looked up at him. His eyes spoke a single
question. I nodded, pulling his head greedily closer to my body.

His lips touched my shaft, and I arched into him. Soft skin brushed
across soft skin, and a wet tongue came out slightly to brush against
my member. I groaned, my body seeming to be torn with passion. Why
would he not just take me into his mouth and end it? But oh how I
didn't want it to end, either. I wanted to forever be in this moment
with him, to always be caught in between ecstasy and not being at all.
I felt a wet tongue brush against my tip and I thought that it would
be my undoing. I turned my head up, tried to push into his mouth.
Suddenly I felt warm, wet lips engulf me and I gasped for the shock of
the sudden passion, pushed eagerly into him, wanting more, ever more,
waves of what seemed pure ecstasy pushing out from the source of my
love, the source of my seed, the source of all life and everything in
it. I called out as I felt a soft, wet, firm tongue slide up me and my
seed spill into his mouth. I fell back into the bed, exhausted. He
swallowed my seed in one gulp, not letting a drop spill, slid his
mouth off of me and came to lay next to me, brushing a bit of hair out
of my face and kissing my cheek.

I turned to him rather shyly, and hastily kissed his neck. I wanted to
give him the gift of pleasure that he had given me, but I felt clumsy
and new. I moved my lips down his skin, wondering when in all this he
had undressed, for I had not noticed it at all. I tried to move
slowly, feeling that it would give him more pleasure, as much as he
had given me, and I found when I put my lips to his shaft that he was
already hard. I drew the tip of my tongue up, along his erect member,
and then around it. He gave small sounds of pleasure, but it occurred
to me that perhaps he was not as vocal in his love as I was. I decided
that it would be my personal goal to have him moan, and scream my name
as he came, although I knew it not to be very practical in a town such
as Imladris. I brought my lips over his shaft, down to the base of his
desire, and rolled my tongue all along one side of him. He gasped, and
pushed into my mouth, trying to go deeper. I drew my tongue along the
base of his balls, making some of the soft, fleshy skin travel with
it, which only elicited even more gasps from him. He pushed deeper
into me greedily, and I was perfectly happy to oblige him. I started
then to suck on him, and he moaned and came into my mouth. The taste
was odd at first, salty and sweet, but I quickly got used to it and
swallowed, pulling back from him and coming to lie beside him.

He turned his head towards me and kissed me roughly, but pulled back
quickly. There was something in his eyes, something odd. I kissed his
cheek and noticed something that frightened me - he was crying. I
thought immediately what any sane person would think.

"I-I'm sorry, was it something I did?" He reached his hand up to
caress my cheek, and he kissed my neck gently once more.

"It's not something you did. It's something you are." He looked at me,
his eyes full of sympathy and grief. He kissed me harshly, and I did
not understand then that it was his way of trying to avoid thoughts in
his mind, his way of trying to stop his racing thoughts and tears. But
it didn't work, at least not for him. A sob sent a tremor through his
body and he pulled away from me, trying to turn away from me. But I
put my arms around him, and let his head rest on my shoulder. "I can't
believe what I've done." He whispered. My mind then did not comprehend
anything. Another sob wracked his body and I stroked his head in what
I hoped was a comforting way. "I've betrayed everything I love. And
yet I only love more." He sobbed once more, and I kissed him on the
forehead, at a loss for anything to do. He looked up at me with red
eyes. "I... I... love you..." He whispered. Another sob shook him, and he
broke down before me. I could not understand then why loving me would
tear him so - was I really that bad? So I wept silent tears while he
cried against my shoulder. When it seemed that he had calmed, I kissed
him, looked at him with pleading eyes. He looked back at me with an
eternal sadness that I had never seen before.

"I love you." I whispered, more truth than I could deny in my voice. I
rested my head against his shoulder, and he whispered comforting
elvish to me. This time, it was my turn to cry, for I realized the
horrible truth of my love for him - not only something that was
strictly forbidden and unnatural, but also the only love I had felt
since I had had to give my sister away. I cried for her memory, and
for the thoughts in my mind. I still blamed myself for everything that
happened in my childhood. If I had only done this or that, then maybe
things would have happened differently. But I had not yet admitted
that to myself. I had just admitted that I loved him and that was
wrong. And to trust was hard. If only I had known then what I do now...
But I didn't, I was feeble, weak, and I wept for everything that was
wrong.

Glorfindel, however, seemed to have more experience in comforting than
I. He pushed some hair out of my face, and kissed me gently rolling
his tongue along mine, and teasing me with his hand. I let out one
sob, before he started kissing my neck. Then all I could do was moan
as his thick, muscular, wet tongue traced a line down my neck, teased
my collarbone, and proceeded to my nipple. I moaned once more as his
teeth bit gently and worked at the stone-hard nub until I felt that
the tremors of passion running through my body would overwhelm me. He
brought his hand to caress my burning erection and as he traced lines
down my shaft with his fingers I pushed passionately into him. I felt
unbearably hot, but in the best way that I had known in a long time.
He then gently pressed a finger into me and I groaned as desire spread
through my body, even more than it had already and I groaned from all
that was building up in me. I brought my hands up to grip the
headboard as he inserted two fingers in me, finding a spot in me he
hadn't touched before and working back and forth over it. It only
elicited more moans and gasps of passion from me.

He then shoved his whole burning shaft into me, and I came then. It
took three strokes for him to come but when he did, the sensation felt
even better than before, his warm seed spilling into me and bringing a
contented sigh from me. He pulled out of me and lay down on the bed
next to me, kissed me roughly.

"I love you more than anything." He said, bringing my chin up to look
at him. "Don't you ever forget it." He kissed me again, this time more
softly, running his tongue gently along mine.

"No, I think he shall not." We were both startled by the voice. THE
voice, his voice, that guiding, nudging voice that seemed to
immediately snap you back into reality, and show you what was right
and wrong. I looked up. In our lovemaking we had not heard the door
open, and yet now the elven lord stood there, tall and burning with
anger.

"E-El-rond..." Glorfindel seemed to croak.

"Save your excuses." Elrond hissed. This time, it was not that
comforting and guiding voice. "Get out before I make you." Glorfindel
quickly dressed and left. Elrond then turned to me, his face sad and
worried.


Este vana er, met uva quenevayes si. - Rest, fair one, we shall not
speak of it now.





Chapter Three: Safe In His Arms

"Erestor you don't want to do this." He whispered, caressing my cheek.
I shied away from him. Only Glorfindel could touch me like that, not
Elrond. Elrond seemed hurt by this, and stood, walked slightly away
from me. "Erestor you don't understand!" He said, looking at me with
eyes barely controlling grief.

"I understand perfectly well! I love him, Elrond! I love him!" I sat
up in the bed and looked at him angrily. How dare he watch us?! He was
a pervert, I thought, a deviant, and I was overwhelmed with anger
towards him. This only seemed to hurt him more, but he could not
control my life, I would show him. I no longer needed his help. I knew
what I was doing, I loved Glorfindel, and he loved me! Glorfindel had
promised to never leave me, he was happy with me, and I with him! What
was wrong with that? Was Elrond envious or was he just trying to treat
me like a child?

"Erestor, you know not of whence you speak. You may think that I am
treating you like a child, but it is for your own protection. You do
not understand fully the situation which you have put yourself in. I
tried to keep you out of it, but you rush headfirst into a reality
which will only hurt you more!" I shook my head at that statement, but
he only looked even more worried. His breath was not natural, it was
shallow and it seemed that his whole body and all of its movements
pained him. He sighed. "I must go now. I will see you later Erestor."

I was not happy with this conversation and I brooded moodily for quite
a while before dressing and walking into the forest to try and clear
my mind. Both Elrond and Glorfindel were hurt over Glorfindel's love
for me. I couldn't understand why, but there was a connection. My mind
fumbled. It was the first time I had seen Elrond hurt like that. My
mind refused to contemplate the truth at the time. It was just because
Glorfindel had never loved a male before, and Elrond was
overprotective of me, I told myself. That was all. But my mind raced,
putting the puzzle pieces together even though I didn't want it to do
so. If Glorfindel had never loved a male elf before, then how did he
know so much about lovemaking with one? I shook my head and occupied
myself with following some tracks in the forest.

The forest was especially green this time of year, with many rains,
warm winds, and much sun causing the forest to grow green and moist.
The forest floor squished beneath my feet, and the whole forest
smelled green and good, like the forest that I had stayed at a while,
and memories came back to my mind. I felt hurt, and I sighed. That was
when I consciously wished Glorfindel there. To everyone who has ever
wished a wish and had it come true, please remember next time you do:
Be careful, for sometimes you get more than what you wish for. He
stood there, in a clearing, with Elrond. Elrond had tears running down
his face, clad in the same clothes I had seen him in this morning.

"I don't know how you could do this Glorfindel." He whispered quietly.
Glorfindel sighed, shook his head. He seemed guilty, tired.

"You hurt me... grief and love makes everyone mad." He looked up,
brought his hands out from his sides in a show of helplessness. Elrond
cursed at him.
"Glorfindel, don't think yourself innocent! How can you ever tell him
without killing him from grief! He loves you!" Glorfindel looked at
him with horrible sadness, shook his head, and tried to come closer to
him. Elrond withdrew.

"Must we tell him?" He whispered. "You never told me, not until I came
here, and saw her." He glared at Elrond. "I do love him, to tell you
truthfully." He then looked to the ground, and whispered, "I just love
you too. You are too alike, too pure, the both of you." He looked up
at Elrond. "That's why you fostered him, you saw it in him. That
essence that is in you. That sadness... That sadness for your lost
sibling, for your lost parent. That sadness for all that the world has
brought to you." He looked at Elrond soulfully, and I felt my chest
tighten. It was becoming harder to breathe. I watched them, and as
tears began running down my cheeks, Glorfindel leaned over and kissed
Elrond. "I am sorry, my love, I was angry. I was angry that you went
with her and did not tell me. Could we say that we are even now?"
Elrond nodded.

"But you must not hurt him." He whispered. Not hurt me? I was some
pawn in their sick game! He only went with me because Elrond had a
wife, he only went with me because Elrond has normal! He didn't love
me, he was just using me to try and get back at Elrond, he never loved
me. I felt light headed, and I tumbled to the forest floor, tears
blurring my eyes.

|  ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~  |

When I awoke, my head hurt savagely, and my eyelids felt heavy. I felt
like I couldn't move, and all I wanted was to sink into a deep sleep.
But something kept me there. There was some feeling that kept me
awake. Some thought kept me there. My life was a failure, I thought,
but it was my fault. I wept then, not even opening my eyes. I felt a
warm body next to me, and I pulled away from it, thinking it to be
Glorfindel. An arm wrapped around me, and a soothing, guiding, voice
quietly cradled my mind.

"Sssh, all is right, Erestor, I promise. I will make it all right." He
brought my head to his shoulder, and I could do nothing but weep. I
brought my hand up to his shoulder and leaned fully against him. He
smoothed my hair, and brushed some out of my face. I opened my eyes,
but my vision was blurred from my tears. Everything looked wet, as if
I was underwater, and it stung to open my eyes. I wiped the tears from
my eyes, and looked up. My vision was still slightly blurry, but I saw
Elrond holding me tightly and comfortingly, and Glorfindel looking
worried, standing at the door and pacing, glancing up at me
occasionally. It appeared that Elrond had ordered him to come no
further, for when he came just inside the door, Elrond glanced up,
glared sharply at him, and he retreated to where he was supposed to
be.

I wept all the more for what he had done to me. I had experienced
love, but never in my life had I experienced this. I felt like there
was a hole in my heart. I was empty, and all of my love and sorrow and
everything had seeped out of me. I wept even more, for the hollowness
inside me, and I clutched Elrond, held him close to me. He was truly
like a father to me now, for I looked to him for comfort.

He held me until I cried all the tears I could. Then, with red eyes
and swollen lips I looked up at Glorfindel angrily.

"Enter and face me." I said, my tone acidic. Glorfindel seemed hurt,
but he came into the room, and sat down on the bed. I sat up and
continued to glare at him. "So all I was for you was some sick little
thing to toy with, some revenge to get on Elrond for being unfaithful.
Don't you have any wisdom, Glorfindel? Revenge solves nothing! Not
this kind, it doesn't do a thing except create more pain and suffering
in the world. All you are doing is taking your sadness and infecting
others with it! How dare you spread throughout the world what one
spread to you?" I had not had that wisdom earlier, but I had been
doing a lot of thinking while I was weeping. "How can you even
conceive of it? You saw that by bringing a third person into the
relationship, everyone ended up being hurt, Celebrian even sailed away
because of it, didn't she?" Elrond nodded, sadly. "So how dare you do
this again? How dare you ruin your relationship with him once more,
how dare you, how dare you, how dare you?!" I could think of nothing
else to say, so I just looked at him, broken, torn and bleeding on the
inside of my heart, unable to cry no more and with an unquenchable
thirst in my mouth.

"It started out as that, yes." Glorfindel whispered. "But now I
understand how he felt." He looked up at Elrond with soulful eyes,
then back at me. "Celebrian was angered with him when she discovered
it, too. But now I know, now..." He sighed heavily. "You two are almost
exactly alike." He paused here, looked at the ground. "The only
difference is that you are innocent, Erestor. More innocent than any
other elven lord I know." At that statement I laughed.

"Innocent enough to kill an elf?" I asked angrily. Glorfindel looked
at me in surprise. "I killed the man my mother loved." I whispered,
anger brewing over him. He most definitely was not innocent, but I had
killed him nonetheless. I sighed, looked at nothing in particular. I
recited the story sadly, feeling at last that I could share it with
them. By the end of it, I was in his arms again. He looked down sadly
at me, and nodded quietly. "Glorfindel, I hope you don't mind, but I
don't want to be around you right now." He nodded, and left the room.

I sunk down in my bed, and bade that Elrond, too, leave. He nodded
politely, and left, leaving me to my peace. I thought of many things,
morning to night, I just sat there, thinking, remembering how
wonderful it used to feel when he touched me, when he loved me, when
he was mine. But it did me no good...

|  ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~  |

The next day, Elladan and Elrohir came to see me. They, however, were
courteous enough to sit in chairs, instead of being unnecessarily
close to me. They were quite young-looking to me, but maybe that was
just because I had seen them grow up before my very eyes. The sun was
halfway up the sky and it gave the place a warm glow. It was quite
warm, too, and I was thankful.

"Erestor, what exactly happened to you?" Elrohir asked quietly.
Elladan was the shier one of the two, and he and I had not spoken much
at all. In fact, I could barely remember speaking to him ever.
Elrohir, on the other hand, seemed to like me, at least compared to
Elladan he did, for he sometimes sought my help when his studies were
too much for his mind to comprehend. "Elrond just said that you were
depressed. Is there anything we can do to cheer you up?" I looked to
Elladan, and he gave an encouraging smile, but I had the angry thought
that he was probably just there because of Elrohir. I laughed angrily,
and brooded.

"Only if you can travel through time." I said moodily, my tones dark
and angry. Elrohir turned his head to the side and jammed his eyebrows
together, as if he sympathized with me. I thought then that I hated
him, but I realized that it wasn't him I hated, but rather, his
concern for me. "I don't need your pity." I growled through clenched
teeth. Elrohir seemed taken aback.

"It was not pity that I came here with, my lord. I was just concerned.
You succumb to sadness twice in a year. Some might say that something
was upsetting you." I gave a short, half-laugh, half grunt and glared
at him.

"Life is upsetting, Elrohir. There is darkness, deceit, and despair in
the world, and no one can ever get past it. Life is one long journey
towards death, the inevitable equalizer of all, the final release from
this toil. We may say that it is humans that are unnatural, but nay,
'tis the other way round. Oh what I would give to be mortal and die
young. They may be short-lived, but that only means that they see less
of the sadness and horrors the world has to offer." Elrohir gave me a
soulful look and I felt like strangling him. I just knew he was
pitying me, I just knew it.

"Wow. You really are depressed." This time it was Elladan. He spoke
softly, kindly, and I lashed out with my arm to hit him. How dare he
speak like that? He was being forced to come here by his brother, I
knew it! Elrohir caught my arm and twisted my wrist. I gasped in shock
at the pain that shot up my arm, and whimpered.

"You will not hurt him Erestor, it was he who convinced me to come
here. If you do so choose to injure him, then I'm afraid I may have to
leave." I was surprised, and my anger would have taken over if the
pain had not reminded me that I was not doing anything that would help
me here. I sighed, let my shoulders droop, yet I was still surprised.

"Why would he want to see me, we hardly talk!"

"Exactly!" He shouted angrily. I looked up, surprised that he would
speak so, and my features obviously showing it. "Hundreds of years
we've lived together and I've barely known you at all! I don't
understand it! I know everyone in Imladris except for you, and yet
you're the one who everyone talks about!" I thought about it. It would
make sense. I was the mystery, the thing that no one could figure out.
So obviously, if I was in danger, so was their sick little
entertainment. "I want to know you, Erestor. I think we're very much
alike, you and I." I laughed. He still had his parents, he still had
his brother, his family. How could we be alike?

"You think it was easy finding out that our father loved that ELF?"
Elrohir practically spat the word elf, as if it was the highest insult
that they could give. My mind reeled. Their mother? Of course he loved
their mother, otherwise why would Glorfindel be in such an uproar?
Then it clicked. Glorfindel. They knew about Glorfindel. I looked up
at their features, shocked. Their dark eyes glinted with rage, just at
the statement. I looked from one to the other, sympathetically.
Glorfindel had caused far too much pain to everyone. And yet... and yet,
I thought, why would he do that? Why would he intentionally hurt
everyone? I knew him, or I thought I did, and he was good. It was then
that I realized that he was just trying to help, to comfort. Had he
not been hurt, too, when he found out about Celebrian? Was that not
the entire reason he had been with me? And then yesterday, I had only
hurt him more. But he had hurt me. Everyone winds up hurt, I
reflected. No one ends up happy in these situations. It took me a
while to respond to them, but I did.

"...I love him, too." They looked at me like I was insane. Maybe I was.
Did I not barely know him, and have but a short time to get to know
and understand him? But was he not the open type, the strong type, the
type who was easily understood? I nodded. "I love him, too." Their
jaws were slack, but they seemed to recover quickly, or at least, more
quickly than I had expected.

"Males are not supposed to love males!" They both whispered, but they
exchanged a look that I couldn't quite place. "But they do..." Something
connected in my mind, and I gasped, looking at the two. Elladan
blushed, and Elrohir half-smiled, rather sheepishly, I might add.

"Promise you won't tell Atar?" Elrohir said, sounding like when he was
young and asking for help with his studies once more. We all laughed
and it was only then that I fully realized how much I missed out on
seeing them grow up. I wondered if fathers, separated from their
families by war, experienced the same feeling as I did then, that
feeling of sadness, the feeling that you have deprived yourself of a
once-in-a-lifetime experience. I understood, then, so much, I knew
what it was like to miss someone's childhood, other than my own that
is, to wish them young again, just so that you could play with them
more, and teach them things that every child should know, just so that
you could go back and correct all the mistakes that you made. But it
was not destined to be, and I had to deal with them as they were.

|  ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~ * ~  |  ~ * ~  |

Over the following months I grew closer and closer to Elrohir,
Elladan, and Elrond, and farther and farther from Glorfindel. Yet as
time grew, I noticed Elrond getting moodier, and every so often I even
caught the elven lord brooding. It was very un-Elrond for him to do
so, and I could only guess that it was because Glorfindel was doing
something displeasing. But that only made me wonder more. Glorfindel
only strove to make everyone happy, so why would he do anything to
displease Elrond, the elf that he loved? Why would he try to do
anything against him? Yet no matter how many times I asked the
question in my mind, it helped none.

Finally, three months later, my question was answered. Elrond's house
was having a day of celebration over the changing of seasons, going
from spring to summer, and Glorfindel was there, with an elven maiden
at his side. It was not so much seeing Glorfindel that surprised me,
but rather, seeing him with a FEMALE. I wondered if perhaps that was
why Elrond was brooding; mayhap Glorfindel had decided to settle down
and have a child with some rather shapely elven maiden. I eyed her.
She had good hips, beautiful, strawberry blonde hair, and deep, ocean
blue eyes. She was dressed all in white, the sign of a virgin. I
snickered under my breath, noticing that Glorfindel was dressed
similarly. They would make a good couple, I thought, and she would
bear him elflings. When she noticed me looking at her, she blushed,
and said something to Glorfindel. He immediately brought her over to
me.

"Erestor, there's someone I'd like you to meet." I took a sip of the
wine that had been given to me and looked at him dryly, my face stone
cold and clear of emotion, angry, hard, and unkind. "Erestor, this is
Rhea... I believe you two have met." Rhea blushed once more, and I
felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me. How could this be
that same, innocent babe who I once held in my arms? That same one
that I had never seen? That same one who I had been forced to give up?
How in the name of all that was good could it be? But it was, I knew
it. There were uncanny similarities to me that she bore. I stood, and
reached out to hug her, yet refrained, as public displays of affection
amongst elves were frowned upon.

"Well, wow..."  I said, laughing uncomfortably. "You've grown." She
laughed at that, only emphasizing her blush.

"I should hope so." I smiled, feeling completely giddy and wonderful.
It was amazing to be setting eyes on her. Then it struck me how much
she looked like my mother, and my face changed. Now, it seemed like I
was half-sad. I traced her jaw line with my hand, feeling the soft
skin beneath it.

"You're so much like mother it's amazing." I whispered gently. She
half-laughed, and looked at the ground. I felt completely insensitive.
How could I say such a thing? She had never seen mother, and that
would only make it worse. She had never seen father either, or her
father. For a moment I had the horrible thought that she might be like
him, but I pushed that thought out of my mind. There was no way that
this kind, innocent, sweet, loving girl could be like him. He was
nasty, mean and vile, the most despicable of elves from the farthest
depths of the scummiest upbringing. "I'm sorry." I whispered. She
shook her head.

"It's just..." She paused, looked at the ground once more and collected
her thoughts. She seemed to be trying to gather all of the questions
she had and condense them into one. "What were they like?" Her eyes
were soulful, and her face was sad. I thought for a moment about this,
wondering if I should tell the truth. How would she deal with it if I
told her what her father had done to me?

"They were very in love, and... and willing to sacrifice anything for
it. Willing to sacrifice anything for you." It was true enough, and
sparing her feelings at the same time, not to mention I felt better
than I would have had I told her the truth. She smiled, and seemed
relieved.

"Thank you... and thank you for what you did to save me. Laeraur was the
kindest elf I've known." It was my turn to breathe a sigh of relief,
happy that I had chosen correctly, deciding on one of the one elves I
had to choose from. I didn't feel as bad, then, as I did earlier. Her
very presence raised my spirits. To know that she was alright, and had
not died a horrible death because of me seemed to lighten my mind by
an amazing amount. We all three sat down together and started to
converse.

Rhea did not have the same love of knowledge as I did, but rather she
had chosen to study the people around her throughout her life and had
come to the basic decision that we had not evolved from our animal
instinct, but had only come far in the way we showed it. Whereas in
the barbarian days we would fight someone to get revenge, now it was
much less clear. We would revert to measures that were not
straightforward or quick at all.

She had come to many other conclusions, such as the conclusion that
lust for power and dying without heirs would lead to the downfall of
any race. I felt bad about that one, because it meant that I, in my
love for Glorfindel, was only leading to the downfall of the elven
race and the discontinuation of the elven species. But love does the
oddest things, and plays tricks upon your mind, even she admitted
that.

She had seen others in love, doing completely mad things. She did not
have a betrothed, but wished dearly to find one and be happy, and
start a family. But she claimed that with her betrothed, she would
have to experience love. It was odd for those days, for marriages were
made completely by who had money, or who was ready to start a family
and of equal status. She was becoming just as independent as I, and my
heart warmed at the thought that she and I were alike in many ways.

Our conversation was wonderful, and it seemed like something from a
dream. Half of me still did not believe it when she retired for the
night. Glorfindel had kept quiet during most of our talking, but now
he stood, made as if to leave, but paused, and turned directly towards
me, his eyes betraying how hurt he was.

"I can never say I forgive you." I whispered, feeling sadness over the
fact that it was the truth. He nodded, and half-turned before he heard
my next sentence. "But I can say that I love you." He looked up,
surprised, tears in his eyes. "Come let us talk of it elsewhere, where
we might have more privacy." He nodded, and we left for my
bedchambers, so that we might sit and talk in peace.

"Glorfindel," I started, "what you did was wrong. Using me like that,
it reminds me so much of... of him!" I stared at him with soulfully blue
eyes, and he sighed, looked stricken. I could tell that he didn't like
the reality he had created for himself, but it was of his making, and
he should have to live with it.

"Erestor, I'm sorry. I love you too. Please believe me, I do. I told
Elrond. Erestor, I want to be with you." His eyes locked with mine,
and they were those same, wonderful, passion-filled eyes I had seen
when we were first together. I brought his face to mine and slid my
tongue gracefully into his mouth. His lips smiled against mine, and we
sat there for the longest while just kissing, our roaming hands doing
all of the speaking that words could never express.

When we finally pulled away, I just laid my head down on his shoulder,
and closed my eyes, dreaming of everything that had happened and
trying not to think about the pain that he put me through. I nuzzled
his neck and he kissed my cheek. Why couldn't we have always been like
this? Why could not these events have never happened, why did it have
to be that way? But love makes you do stupid things, it blinds you.

After a while, I brought my head up to his once more, and shifted my
body so that it was on top of his. Our tongues wound around each
other, lovingly, with all the care in the world. When we parted, I
leaned my head on his shoulder. All I wanted to do was lay with him,
stay like that forever, and never move. I wrapped my arms around his
shoulders and he wrapped his around my hips. He moved his hips against
mine, and lowered his hand to my butt, to caress the cheeks. I moved
into him, but there was something lurking in my mind.

Was this all our relationship was based on? The idea frightened me,
but I just let it slip for the time being. He brought his lips back to
mine, ran his tongue along the inside of my mouth, and then wrapping
it around my own. He gently untied the strings that held my shirt to
my body and rolled over so that he was on top of me. His tongue rolled
along my soft, exposed flesh, sucking and biting gently at times.

I couldn't keep my thoughts silent. If this was all our relationship
was based on what would happen if ever we were separate? Would he
leave me to bed another and then fall in love and leave me forever? I
pulled away from him, and he immediately sat up and got off of me. He
turned his head toward me.

"What's wrong, Erestor?" He whispered, caressing my cheek. The loss of
the sensation that elicited such pleasure from me and his hand softly
going over my cheek made me want to tell him nothing and just kiss him
again, make him have me once more. I turned away from him.

"It's just... is this all we're about? Is this all it is? Do you really
love me or do you love what we do?" I looked at him soulfully and the
icy blue eyes that stared back seemed filled with sadness. It seemed
to me that nature had chipped off two small blocks of ice and now they
were melting. Tears filled his eyes, and he put his head against my
shoulder, burrowing into my neck. I was shocked.

"Erestor, please! Never think that. I love you with all of my heart.
Not your body, not what you do for me. I love you because you are
hurt. I want nothing more than to comfort you." He put his hand across
my stomach. "This is the only way I know how to." I smiled, embraced
him.

"Oh Glorfindel, your very presence comforts me. I love you, too, with
all my heart, but you betrayed me. You led me on a false path. But
you... Everything about you is beautiful, and it comforts me to know
that one such as you could feel anything for me. You are the most
wonderful being I've ever met." It was my turn to caress his cheek,
and I did so comfortingly, although I thought that it was odd. Our
roles were reversed and I was quite inept at it.

I would learn, though, I knew that most definitely. We slept together
that night, and we did not make love. But in the morning, a shock was
awaiting. While we slumbered war was brewing. Unkindness and evil was
lurking behind every corner. And although I had gained much on that
night, I had lost more than I knew.

To Be Continued With Slashy Goodness!

A/N: Oh lord, what've I become?! I always despise TBCs! And now, I am
the root of all evil! But I can't continue this from his point of
view. Eventually, I'll pick up from Rhea's point of view. For now, I'm
off to go write something about Legolas! *goes off to listen to EMINEM
& write slash* Then, maybe a book. But that'd take years. These take
months, at most. Rather trivial. Oh well, if it gives you good
practice and entertainment, do it.