Behind Closed Doors pt07

Title: Behind Closed Doors 7/?
Author: Blue Gold
Pairings: Elrond/Glorfindel, Elrond/Celebrian, Haldir/Melpomean , Celebrian/OFC
Rating: R Summary: Melpomean is the first to show more than indifference to Erestor. But After a lifetime of such treatment can Erestor change the elf he was made into.
Disclaimer: I *sniff* do not any of the characters in this story. They are owned by Tolkien/Jackson Warnings: AU, Angst, child abuse, mentions of rape

Elrond watched as Erestor dropped the stack of scrolls in his hands, fell to his knees clutching his head and screamed. Physically Erestor was fine, emotionally he was far from it, he was tormented by not only nightmares in his sleep but waking nightmares.

He rarely had a few hours peace. As it was Erestor barely ate and he barely slept. The signs showed on the elf, who was little more than sharp bones jutting out from his woolen robes, the constant bags under his eyes and the steady decline in his quality of work.

It was why he had done what he did. It was clear Erestor was content to stay here and make a slow trip to Mando’s halls. Elves went out of their way to avoid him. Council meetings were spent with elves watching nervously to see if this would be the moment Erestor collapsed or got lost in another waking nightmare.

Elrond approached Erestor reaching for his shoulder and his ring flared violently. “Lost, lost, dark, cold, but it shines…”

Elrond pulled back as Erestor looked at him his eyes empty, “He lost his, lost finger…always lose the finger.”


“He sees me, I have to be good, he’ll put me outside again. Always watching.”

“Erestor!” Elrond exclaimed sharply. The elf blinked and began to gather the parchment, his eyes downcast he stood shakily, dizziness claiming as he fell again scattering the scrolls.

Elrond let out a sigh. Looking at the elves who had gathered for the council meeting he carried Erestor into the adjoining room and set him on the chaise. After that he sent a servant to collect Glorfindel who did not usually attend council though he had a seat at all times.

“We have an urgent matter to discuss,” Elrond said as Glorfindel entered the room. Taking a seat he nodded. “Erestor is clearly deteriorating before our very eyes. Normally I would not even think to do this against an elf’s will but to do nothing would be nothing short of a kinslaying.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Lindir asked.

“I am suggesting we send Erestor west.”

“And be rid of that terror.”

“To aid him, there is little that we can do to mend his spirit,” Elrond corrected though he could not help be somewhat happy about the additional bonus of not having to deal with Erestor ever again.

“Maybe we should speak to Gandalf,” Glorfindel interjected remembering when the wizard had given him the child.

“No one knows where he is. He may be visiting with the other Istari, it may be weeks or years before he surfaces. Erestor does not have that kind of time. I have sent word to Cirdan he has passage prepared for Erestor.”

“But should we not…” Erestor’s scream drowned out whatever it was that Glorfindel was going to say and with a sigh fell silent.

“So it is agreed? Erestor will sail west?” Elrond asked.

All sounded their agreement, not noticing that Erestor was standing in the doorway awakened by his own screams.

“I do not want to sail,” Erestor whispered.

“Erestor do you eat?” Elrond asked.


“Do you sleep?”

“Not recently.”

“And are food and sleep not necessary for survival?”

“I suppose.”

“And you want us to leave you here to die?” Elrond asked.

“I will not die.”

“Erestor, a breeze could knock you over, you have no peace here.”
“I do not deserve peace. I am fine here,” Erestor stated.

“You would ask us to leave you here to die?” Lindir exclaimed, enraged, “you are asking us to be kinslayers.”

“Erestor go pack your belongings you leave tonight,” Elrond said tired of stalling. He did not want Erestor to die like this. Erestor looked as if he was going to protest and Elrond stopped any such thoughts. “Now Erestor.”

“Yes my lord,” Erestor said softly leaving the room.

Elrond rubbed his temples sure that he was indeed doing the right thing for the elf. Erestor was not healing emotionally. An elf could only live like that for so long without falling apart. Taking a seat he wondered what needed to be done now.

“Do you think he will get well?” Lindir asked suddenly remembering the child he once was.

“If the valar can’t help him then there is nothing to aid Erestor save oblivion itself.”


“Oblivion indeed.”

“Let us prepare to welcome the dear prodigal son home.”

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