TITLE: No Remedy AUTHOR: LittleMouse elf_night@hotmail.com PAIRINGS: Glorfindel/Erestor, also Haldir/Legolas, Elladen/Orophir, Elrohir/Rumil, Glorfinel/OFC RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Erestor loves Glorfindel. Glorfindel loves a certain Lady... doesn't he? A diplomatic mission to Lothlorien goes horribly wrong; Glorfindel learns what it means to be truly loved. WARNINGS: Violence, torture, angst, N/C but probably not to the point of rape, explicit sexual situations, etc. Enjoy! Also, story may be slightly AU as I'm playing freely with Erestor's background. DISCLAIMER: They are not mine. They are Tolkien's. Life is cruel, that way... NO REMEDY There is no remedy for love, but to love more. ~Henry David Thoreau Broken. His heart was broken. Into little pieces, and ground to dust beneath careless heels. Of course, no one knew this. But that didn't matter, for he knew they would not care if they did know. Erestor tapped his fingers nervously against the balcony railing, watching the dancing figures in the huge Fire Hall below. A great celebration was in full sway, a binding ceremony just completed. The second-in-command of Imladris' warriors had finally joined with his beloved, a sweet young maiden well-liked by the rest of their community. Everyone except the sentries were present. Erestor would have much preferred to be the exception. It would be easier if he were hidden away in the Library or his rooms, not watching everyone else be happy. But he had prepared the celebration, taking seriously the duties Lord Elrond had given him, and he needed to watch and make sure nothing went wrong. But that didn't mean he had to be down in the bright, cheerful room. No, he would stay here, on this little shadowy, disused back-balcony, and keep his grim presence from spoiling the festivities for the newly-bound couple. He'd heard enough remarks over the years - his hearing was incredibly sharp, even for an Elf - and he'd had enough 'black crow', 'scarecrow', and 'old death-head' comments whispered his way. He had no desire to add to them. He settled down into a stiff old chair, arranging his shapeless black robes comfortably around him. As an Elf, he didn't feel the cold unless he was injured, but he had always enjoyed the comfort of fabric around him. Long, heavy robes, thick dark cloaks, a bed piled high with blankets. He sometimes wondered, in an abstract, amused sort of way, if he was compensating for the fact that there were no arms around him. If he subconsciously filled the void with enveloping, cradling cloth. Well, if he did, there was no harm in it. It wasn't like there would ever *be* arms, after all. Best to take what he could. A sudden, loud laugh intruded on his thoughts and he leaned forward a bit, eyes searching. There, standing by the fire, a hand clapped to the shoulder of the new bridegroom, eyes shining with mirth while his hair shone like liquid gold in the firelight. Glorfindel. Ah, Glorfindel. The object of his hidden thoughts, the star performer in his favorite dreams, the name that lurked at the back of his mind no matter what he was doing. The reason for his broken heart. The *other* reason stood at Glorfindel's side, a hand laid possessively on his arm. A tall She-Elf, with hair like sunlight flowing to the small of her back, strands twisted up in an elegant pattern of braids, beads, gems and knots. Her proud face was fair-skinned and exquisite; big blue eyes sparkled behind long golden eyelashes. Her perfect figure was encased in a clinging robe of some soft blue stuff, revealing and yet hiding her sweet curves in a most enticing manner. The Lady Riel, the perfect partner for Lord Glorfindel, an excellent match to his height and coloring, drawing the eye of every single male in the room, and some who weren't so single. She was a being of beauty and light and all the Elves adored her. Erestor hated her. Rather intensely. But then, he'd hated every male and female who had ever stood at Glorfindel's side. Lady Riel was just the longest-lasting one, a lover Glorfindel went back to time and again. He'd stayed with her for a decade this time around, and whispers of a bonding ceremony of their own had reached Erestor's pointed ears. Well, what did he expect? It wasn't like Glorfindel was going to suddenly throw himself at his feet and declare his undying love! He'd never even gotten up the courage to speak with the Elf! Erestor hunched forward and a long, thick rope of hair slid over his shoulder. For a moment he fingered it, studying the flat, deep black of it. He always kept his hair in a single tight braid, pulling it harshly back and slicking it down flat against his head. It was soft as silk but the color was dull. He refused to use oils and potions on it like other Elves did. He didn't want it to shine, it would attract attention. He didn't want to leave it down and loose. He'd had enough jibing comments in his youth to want to avoid them ever being heard again. He sat back in his seat, irritably flicking the braid back over his shoulder. He forced his dark eyes to move away from the two golden Elves, to survey the Hall for any problems that needed handling. He never realized that the sudden, sharp motion had attracted attention. * Deep blue eyes, trained warrior eyes, caught the movement where no movement should be. Glorfindel stared hard at the far balcony, until he could make out the pale oval of a face, surrounded completely by black. Well, there was only one Elf in Imladris *that* could be. He moved away from Riel, who was gushing over the bride's lovely robes, and scooped up two full wineglasses from a nearby table. He made his way quickly across the room, giving brief nods to the voices who called out to him and the hands that grabbed for him, desiring the company of the famous Balrog-slayer and Imladris' Captain. He had a goal in mind, a curiosity he'd held for centuries but never saw the opportunity to assuage. Erestor had always kept himself quite firmly out of anyone's reach. Just a silent figure in black, keeping to the shadows and whispering advice in Lord Elrond's ear; always busy or across the room or vanishing when one wanted to have normal conversation with him. If it was about work, or the duty roster, or the schedule of patrols, then Erestor would speak to him; a mellow low voice that made his toes curl. Otherwise, nothing doing. And he'd never seen the other Elf choose such an unguarded position before, so he wasn't going to let the unexpected opportunity slip past. Well, he supposed the dark balcony wasn't *that* odd a choice - it got him out of and away from the crowd, and if he hadn't tossed his braid back, Glorfindel would never have seen him. Didn't matter. He wasn't getting away this time. He went quietly up the stairs and out onto the balcony. Erestor was watching as the servants brought out new trays of delicacies, and didn't notice the other Elf until Glorfindel slid into the seat beside him. The warrior hid a brief smile when Erestor jumped. "Wine?" was all he said, offering one of the glasses. * Erestor took the glass slowly, watching Glorfindel with suspicion in his dark eyes. What was the Elda up to? Apparently, he was up to stretching out his long legs and sighing. "Nice spot. Quiet." "Mm." Erestor knew it wasn't much of an answer, but he had no idea what to say. Glorfindel didn't seem to mind. "Why do you sit here, alone, instead of joining in the company?" Several answers raced through the dark-haired Elf's mind. 'I am not wanted. I do not care to see a close view of Lady Riel draped over you. I have been the butt of enough jokes for one lifetime. I would rather sit with Orcs than some of the Elves down there.' "I prefer privacy." "I see." 'Do you? Then why are you still beside me?! Leave before I start shaking like an Elfling!' Erestor took a quick sip of the wine, hoping it would calm his nerves. Glorfindel was watching him with an odd look in those lovely blue eyes, and he wondered if the Elf had seen through the half-truth to the lies that lurked beneath. "What do you like to do?" The question caught him off-guard. "What?" "What do you like to do?" Glorfindel's voice was patient, as though he were speaking to an Elf who wasn't particularly bright. "When you're not lurking behind Elrond or buried under papers at your desk, what do you do?" Erestor stared at him, feeling like a deer suddenly confronted by a pack of snarling wolves. No one ever asked him questions like this! Lord Elrond himself had never inquired what he did when his presence wasn't required by something official. "I... read a lot." Glorfindel grinned. "That's no surprise. Anything else?" 'Who are you and where is the Glorfindel who never speaks to me?' "Er... walk in the gardens?" "A very calm life, Master Erestor." He shrugged. Of course it was calm, that was the way he wanted it. "It suits me." "Mm." It was Glorfindel's turn for an ambiguous reply, and Erestor felt himself tense, wary. There was something in that innocent noise that warned him. Glorfindel was up to... to something. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like it. This called for retaliation. When in doubt, use sarcasm. It drove everyone else away. "And what do *you* do? When you are not riding, or fighting, or commanding your soldiers? Or drinking half the wine in Lord Elrond's cellar?" He nearly smiled at the last, remembering how their usually serene Lord had bellowed when he found his sons and Glorfindel had consumed so much of his treasured store. Catching himself, he turned it into a small sneer. Glorfindel just laughed. "What else should I do? A very calm life does *not* suit me. Though, I admit..." he lowered his voice as if he were about to share a huge secret, "on rare occasions, I do enjoy reading." "You astonish me." Erestor was more than willing to play along. He knew that Glorfindel was very often in the library, coaxing the assistants there to find him this book or that, but he preferred to pretend he knew nothing about the other Elf. "You are so surprised that I enjoy reading?" "Nay, that you know *how* to read." Erestor took another sip of wine to hide a grin at the look on Glorfindel's face. Unlike most Elves, he could tell the other was not taking his taunts seriously. The mix of hurt and astonishment was offset by the laughter in those blue eyes. "You wound me," Glorfindel cried sadly, laying an elegant hand on his chest. "It should come as no surprise. Age slows us all," Erestor shot back, enjoying the sudden verbal battle. So was Glorfindel, from the look on his face. "Ah, but that one so feeble as you should be able to breach my guard! It wrings my heart with sorrow." "That is only because..." Erestor trailed off, dark eyes settling on something in the Hall below. The amusement on his face vanished, leaving his old closed-off mask. "The Lady Riel is searching for you, Lord Glorfindel." * Glorfindel very nearly swore. Couldn't Riel be alone for ten minutes at a time? Still, he had escorted her here tonight, by his own invitation. He owed her the courtesy of his attendance. But it irked him; he'd been enjoying talking to the real Erestor - or at least, someone closer to him. The Elf had a sharp sense of humor and he enjoyed the barbed tongue. There was a laughing, smiling, *living* Elf trapped somewhere beneath that mask, and he was determined to drag him out into the open. Kicking and screaming, if he had to. He got to his feet. "I should return to her. I thank you, Chief Counsellor, for allowing me to share your retreat and your company. I would enjoy speaking with you more on another occasion." Erestor gaped at him, then nodded sharply and turned his face away, gulping half of his wine. Glorfindel hid a smile and left the balcony, sighing as he saw Riel's eyes light up at his reappearance. Really, the Lady was becoming so... cloying... He wanted to spend more time with Erestor. Lady Riel's company was like drowning in warm molasses; Erestor's was like the clean feeling of a sharp, cool breeze. He smiled at the She-Elf as she linked her arm through his, nodding as she began babbling about her conversation with the bride. He had to forceably restrain himself from looking up at the balcony. There had to be some way he could spend more time with Erestor, but he had to escort a diplomat to Lothlorien this week, he wouldn't be back for nearly two months. He didn't know who Elrond had chosen to send, but it wouldn't be Erestor. It was never Erestor. The Elf had too many duties to keep him in Imladris. But if anyone deserved a break, it was him... And Glorfindel had influence with Elrond - influence he was not above using. Then, there was the advantage of the simple fact that no one else in Imladris seemed to realize how important Erestor was to keeping the place running. The whole of the Last Homely House would fall apart if Erestor wasn't there. Of course, they deserved to find that out; Erestor was sadly unappreciated. An evil smile went unnoticed on Glorfindel's lips, and he began moving Riel toward the High Table. Where Elrond was sitting. He wanted to hurry and set his plan in motion. No time like the present.