Title: Married to an Elf Part 7/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel Rating: PG Summary: It’s the morning of the binding ceremony, but Erestor and Glorfindel still find time to occupy themselves… Genre: Romance Word count: 684 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 9 Aug 2006 – ‘citrus‘; 3 Aug 2007 – ‘grapes’; 30 Aug 2007 – ‘relief’ ************************ The day of the ceremony dawned, and already the house was in full motion. Elrond checked and re-checked everything, driving practically everyone else to distraction. “I swear,” one of the cooks muttered under her breath, moving the bowl of citrus fruits aside that Elrond had unceremoniously dumped on the table, “that he is worse than Lord Erestor!” “Worse?” a voice asked. Whirling around, the cook flushed slightly under Glorfindel’s amused gaze. “Diheno nin, hiren,” she whispered. “I did not mean to insult Lord Elrond.” Glorfindel gave a small laugh. “I know you do not. If truth be told, I think you may be right,” he added conspiratorially, winking. The cook giggled. “Why, Lord Glorfindel, are you flirting with me? And on the morning of your binding ceremony!” “Ah, I am but merely making the most of the hours I have left before I am irrevocably bound to the one who holds my heart.” “I am so pleased for both of you,” the cook said quietly. “We all are.” “Thank you.” Looking about him, Glorfindel frowned slightly at the other elves bustling about. “Is there a chance of getting some food? I am afraid both Erestor and I have missed out…” The seneschal had no time to finish off his sentence when he was pushed unceremoniously onto a stool. “But, of course! Sit here while I quickly prepare something for the two of you!” Glorfindel watched, bemused, as the cook quickly gathered her ingredients and, before long, a tray was placed before him, filled with freshly-made pancakes, succulent strawberries, grapes, cream, and a myriad of other treats that the seneschal feared the tray would break under the weight should he try and lift it. “Enough!” he laughed. “We will not be able to eat all of this!” The cook looked at him knowingly. “Yes, you will.” This time it was Glorfindel’s turn to flush under her gaze, and decided it was time to beat a hasty withdrawal. Lifting the tray, he said a brief ‘thank you’ before exiting the kitchen, leaving a smirking cook in his wake. Balancing the almost over-laden tray, Glorfindel carefully moved his way down the corridor back to the room he and Erestor now shared. His question as to how he was going to hold the tray one-handed whilst trying to open the door was answered when said door was opened by Erestor, whose eyes widened. “We can not eat all of that!” he protested. “According to the cook, we will. She seemed to be rather…sure of it, actually.” The slight innuendo was not lost on Erestor. He blinked and then his cheeks took on a slightly pink hue. “Oh,” was all he said before opening the door wider and allowing the seneschal to enter the room. With a sigh of relief, Glorfindel placed the tray onto the table, and then turned to look at the darkling elf. “Where would you like to start?” Gazing at the munificence before him, Erestor could feel his mouth beginning to water. “Are those pancakes freshly-made?” he asked. “They are, and the eggs have just been boiled. The bread has only just come out of the oven, too.” “Is there some of that special cream cheese?” Erestor asked hopefully. In reply, Glorfindel found the plate holding the more than generous portion. “Definitely pancakes, strawberries and the cream cheese.” Glorfindel smiled. “And what about afterwards?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. Erestor’s gaze widened slightly. “Afterwards we start getting ready for the ceremony,” he said nonchalantly. “The ceremony is not until the end of the day, ervainen vorn,” Glorfindel responded. “Is it?” The deceptiveness of Erestor’s voice was belied by the now sultry gaze that he was directing at the golden-haired warrior, and Glorfindel swallowed. “Did you have something…specific in mind?” the seneschal asked, his voice low. “Mayhap,” Erestor responded, licking his fingers clean of any residue from the cream cheese. Glorfindel watched the darkling elf’s movements, wishing that talented tongue would be used on his erection, now very prominent in his leggings. “I do know what you are thinking, melethron,” Erestor purred. “Good,” Glorfindel said huskily. ************************ Elvish translations: ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one melethron – male lover *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 8/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir Rating: PG Summary: Elladan goes in search of Elrohir. Genre: Romance Word count: 532 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 9 Aug 2007 – ‘clouds’; 21 Aug 2007 – ‘cave’; 18 Sep 2007 – ‘quarry’; 20 Sep 2007 – ‘hunt’; 21 Sep 2007 – ‘find’; 27 Sep 2007 – ‘hurt’ ************************ The hunt for his quarry was proving to be more than challenging. It was as if his younger twin had disappeared completely, but Elladan was determined to find him, no matter how long it took. The elder twin had looked for Elrohir at the most obvious place – the hut near the waterfall, but there was no sign that the younger twin was there. ‘Strange,’ he thought mirthlessly. ‘First I hide, now him; except he seems to be better at it than me.’ Throughout the night, he could sense Elrohir’s confusion after their encounter, but at the time could not understand why. He thought his brother would welcome his words; instead, Elladan seemed to have hurt him. But now, in the clear of morning, an inkling of understanding permeated his mind. The cave! Suddenly, the idea that Elrohir might be there hit Elladan full force. Rapidly going back to his room, Elladan quickly changed into more serviceable clothing before heading out to the stable and saddling his horse. Looking into the next stall, he cursed himself for not noticing earlier that Elrohir’s horse was gone. If he rode quickly enough, he would be at the cave before mid-morning, try and sort something out with his brother and then be back for the ceremony tonight. “So you now know where your brother is.” Galadriel’s voice halted Elladan momentarily. “Aye,” he admitted, “though it took me long enough.” He turned to face his grandmother. “I will make sure that we are back before the ceremony. We would not be forgiven otherwise.” Galadriel smiled. “I know you will be.” She watched as her eldest grandson led his horse out of the stable. “Do you usually know others better than they know themselves?” Elladan asked, a small smile playing on his lips. The Lady of Lothlórien, still smiling, merely looked at Elladan, who shook his head. “I should have known better than to ask that,” he said, mounting his horse. Watching Elladan ride away, Galadriel sensed Elrond’s approach. “He goes off in search of Elrohir,” the elf-lord said, watching Elladan disappear through the trees. “Yes, he does,” Galadriel affirmed. Her gaze went up and watched the clouds as they drifted aimlessly across the otherwise clear blue sky. “What is it you know about Elladan?” Elrond asked quietly. Galadriel turned her gaze to the elf-lord. “Know?” she queried. “Only what I have seen in the mirror, Elrond. Elladan’s heart has always known what it has wanted, but his mind has fought against it constantly. Now that which he desires most is within his grasp, yet he fears that it is all a dream from which he will awaken.” Elrond’s eyes widened. “Are you suggesting that Elladan has always…” “…desired Elrohir? Has always known that his brother was his soul-mate? Yes. However, what he struggles with is the idea that it is his *twin* who can only make him complete.” Elrond took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. “In other words, he needs to forget that Elrohir is his brother, and look upon him as a lover and mate instead.” “A simple way of putting it but, yes, Elladan needs to change his way of thinking.” *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 9/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: A revelation from Haldir leaves Lothvaen floundering. Genre: Romance Word count: 580 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 24 Aug 2007 – ‘tender’; 30 Oct 2006 – ‘horror’; 17 July 2007 – ‘rigid’; 27 Aug 2007 – ‘trust’; 24 Sep 2007 – ‘willing’; ************************ “How do you feel this morning?” Lothvaen winced slightly as he moved. “A little tender,” he admitted. “Methinks we went a little far last night,” Haldir responded, gently kissing the scribe on the forehead. “But I wanted you to…” “Shhh.” Haldir placed his finger on Lothvaen’s lips, silencing him for the moment. “As much as we both enjoy what we do, one can sometimes have too much of a good thing.” He gathered Lothvaen closer to him, stroking his hair. His hand stopped, however, when he felt something wet on his chest and, to his horror, he saw that Lothvaen was crying. “Pen-velui? What is it?” Lothvaen shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. To him, it was Elrohir all over again. He had really hoped that Haldir would be different, especially as he was more than willing – in fact, enthusiastic – to do anything that Lothvaen desired. “Please, pen-velui, tell me!” There was such concern in Haldir’s voice that Lothvaen finally raised himself and looked at the Galadhel. “You no longer wish to continue with our ‘games’,” he said, the flatness of his voice belied by the tears that were still flowing freely down his face. Haldir closed his eyes briefly, and then reopened them. “Nothing could be farther from the truth, pen-velui. But you are more than just a little sore, you are hurting. No,” he said firmly, watching as Lothvaen began shaking his head, “do not deny it, pen-velui.” He drew Lothvaen back down and tenderly wiped away the tears. “Trust me, pen-velui, I have no intention of stopping our ‘games’. All I want is to give you the chance to recover. Would you be willing to hold off, at least for one day? That is all I ask.” Lothvaen thought for a moment, and then nodded. “All right,” he whispered. “At least for a day.” The Galadhel smiled. “Good. And do not be afraid to tell me when you are hurting too much, pen-velui. What we do is supposed to be enjoyable, but it stops being that when unwarranted pain is inflicted. I do not want to hurt you, pen-velui; I care for you too much.” “You do?” “I do,” Haldir affirmed. “In fact, I know I will find it very hard to leave you when it is time for me to return to Lothlórien.” “Oh.” Lothvaen’s voice was small, and Haldir’s heart skipped a beat. “Is something wrong?” the Galadhel asked cautiously. “Wrong? I…no…no, nothing is wrong.” Lothvaen tried to keep his voice casual, but Haldir was not deceived. “There is something that disturbs you, pen-velui. Is it because I said I cared for you?” Haldir paused for a moment, and then said, “Or is it because you do not care for me?” There, the words were out, and Haldir found he was holding his breath, waiting to hear what Lothvaen would say. “Of course I care!” Lothvaen burst out, raising himself once more to look at Haldir. “’Tis just…I just thought…I mean, I *do* like you…” “But to you I am just an elf with whom to while away the time. I understand. I thought…” Haldir shook his head. “Never mind what I thought.” He rolled away from the scribe and stood up. “Haldir…” Lothvaen began, but then his voice trailed off. Haldir’s back was rigid as the Galadhel reached for his leggings, and the scribe watched helplessly as Haldir quickly dressed himself and let himself out of the room without once turning back. ************************ Elvish translations: Galadhel – tree elf pen-velui – lovely one *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*