Author: Blue Gold
Pairings: Erestor/?, Elrond/Thranduil (implied), Erestor/Glorfindel, Thranduil/ Viiresse (OFC)
Summary: Erestor learns he’s pregnant and starts crying rape. But is he telling the truth? Or is he trying to hide the shame of his unwedded relationship with another elf by spinning a fine web of lies.
Disclaimer: I *sniff* do not any of the characters in this story. They are owned by Tolkien/Jackson.
Warnings: “?Rape?”, Angst, MPREG,
Authors Notes: Loosely based on some happenings in the LOTR RPG I’m currently playing, In Silpion’s light. Thanks to Az and her mad Elladan for the inspiration. Thanks to Milly for helping all this make sense.
Elrond was still a vessel of pent up rage as he stormed off to his office. He decided to write that letter to Celeborn and Galadriel right away. If Erestor continued to live this lie then he would have nowhere to run.
Erestor wasn’t a fool. Elrond had to give his advisor credit. He had some how weaselled his way into Glorfindel’s rooms and Elrond had a good feeling how. Though the very thought of it made his skin crawl. Erestor had never been very attractive to begin with, and now add his freakish child bearing and weight gain. How had that thing seduced Glorfindel? He cringed when he suddenly got a mental image of it.
“I have to stop this before I make myself ill. Erestor living with Glorfindel, will this madness never end?”
Figwit, who was standing at the door trying to figure out how to break it to Elrond they had neglected a Hobbit family visiting for a few days and that they were now eating a hole in Imladris’ food supply, spun on his heel glad Elrond had in his rage not shut the door.
He pulled it shut quietly and rushed back to his desk. “Boys you won’t believe this one…”
Elrond wrote a quick letter to his parents-in-law, not noticing in his rage he made barely veiled hints that it was all their fault for saddling him with Erestor in the first place. Sealing the letter he decided to take it to the messengers himself, adding it to the pile from his sons. Knowing his luck Figwit would mistake it as incoming correspondence and read it.
Glorfindel made his way to the gardens just barely keeping from banging his head against the wall he passed. How could he have done such a thing to Erestor? He wouldn’t be surprised if the Elf was back to his rooms after the stunt he just pulled.
What would he have done if he had told Erestor he loved him? The poor Elf would have never believed him, thinking it to be something else born out of pity. Erestor needed to be himself first. Not some shadow of what he used to be.
He wanted Erestor to do this for the right reasons as well. He would happily spend the rest of his life with the moody Elf. He smiled to himself as he thought about Erestor, the Elf had found a place even deeper in his heart then he had been before.
Once Erestor was fully healed in body and spirit he would tell him. Maybe if he was truly lucky the Elf would not bring up the kiss if he didn’t either. He could play dumb. It may work, until he distracted Erestor from that topic.
Smiling to himself, Glorfindel sat for a few minutes longer, collecting himself, and trying to get control on his out of control feelings for Erestor. Slips like that could not possibly help the Elf.
Erestor shook his head as the shock of what Glorfindel had done wore off. He must be going mad, thinking that just because Glorfindel had kissed him on the forehead the Elf had meant anything by it. Had he not seen Glorfindel kiss the Twins the same way dozens of times?
Why would Glorfindel even want to touch such a thing as he? An abnormality that could bear children and had nothing to show for his immortal life. The Elf had most likely left to clean off his mouth after touching the foul thing he had become.
Deciding that even if he was welcome here, it did not mean he could take advantage of Glorfindel so he decided to curl up on the divan and take a nap. He felt like such a sloth of a creature, always so tired and weak. Shutting his eyes he wondered if it was the pregnancy or his injuries that drained him such.
When Erestor next woke he was nestled between silks and furs. There was no sign of Glorfindel but another note was on the pillow.
“This is yours, the divan is mine! –G Also, eat!” Erestor sighed and put the note aside. This was just plain foolishness. And why had he not woken when Glorfindel touched him? He could not allow such. He should go back to his rooms, they were only down the hall.
Opening the door he slammed it shut instantly. But that didn’t deter the Elves.
“So it is true, how did you do it? You actually got a strong, handsome bachelor to take you in.”
“Must have used the same trick he used to get that bundle,” the other Elf replied, reaching to touch Erestor who staggered back with stark terror written in his features.
“But he’s so mousy looking: that hair, the dark robes. I think the bruises add some color to him.”
“I hope you have a very good reason for being in my rooms,” a sweaty and annoyed Glorfindel started, his sword in hand. His tunic, opened at the neck and chest revealed some well developed muscles. Figwit stared at the Elf and couldn’t help letting his eyes wander downward, wishing the tunic was in slightly more disarray.
“We just…well we wanted to know if it was true. I mean why anyone would want to have that in their room when they could have the pick of the litter. You know some say you could get Lord Elrond in your bed if you wished it.”
“Figwit you have until the count of three to get out of my sight. And since you love talking so much, let it be known the next fool to enter into my room without my permission will lose organs vital for procreation,” Glorfindel menaced, pointing [his sword] at Figwit’s groin.
“But I just…”
“Thr…” Figwit fled, followed by his harpies.
“Erestor I…” Glorfindel stopped noticing Erestor was still rooted to the spot as everything Figwit said repeated constantly in his mind. Glorfindel watched worried not even beginning to understand what was going through the Elf’s head.
“Erestor, please, don’t listen to that idiot. You never cared before. do not let him get to you now.”
“Why…why do you think I didn’t care before?”
Glorfindel was about to respond with the way he was cold and distant to Figwit but then realized something he hadn’t realized before. Erestor wasn’t changing, the emotions he had hidden for so long were just too much to hide with all that was going on with him already.
What Elf wouldn’t want friends if he could have them? And at the same time what Elf would open himself up to the kind of abuse Figwit could merit out with a few harsh words? Erestor had chosen distance as his defence. But he must have always have been so lonely.
Looking at Erestor, who had moved to a chair and was hiding behind his hair, he started to realize he did not really know this Elf at all. He had already shown himself to be an artist, no better than a beginner in a game he had believed Erestor to excel at, and self loathing he would have never thought possible in the Elf.
“Erestor…would you like to learn to use a sword?”
“Sword. It’s sharp, you place the pointed end in enemies.”
“I know what a sword is Glorfindel. Why would you want to teach me?”
“It will give you something to do.”
“But my hand…and this thing…” Erestor said pointing to his belly.
“Is not overly large yet so it will not interfere with short blades. Also warriors should be able to use both hands almost equally. There will always be a preference to your writing hand but both will be able to deal with an enemy.”
The next few months were spent training in Glorfindel’s study which was turned into a makeshift sparring area. Glorfindel had seen it build the confidence of the shiest elves and hoped it could do the same for Erestor. He would never be able to confront Thranduil as the frightened being he was.
At first Glorfindel was seriously worried about Erestor, he would only train for a few minutes each day before claiming exhaustion. And that was only if he was awake to begin with. Glorfindel started spending the entire day with Erestor and slowly he began to do more than sleep. He worked with the Elf day in and out never telling him the real reason he wanted to teach him to defend himself.
For some time he thought his efforts were a failure as Erestor still refused to go outside and never spoke to anyone but him or Tella. But he noticed little improvements, a greater disdain for Elrond and what he was sure at times was sarcasm could be found from the dark haired Elf towards his former Lord. He was far from healed but Glorfindel wanted to help in any way that he could.
His thoughts turned to ways to prove Erestor had been telling the truth and vindicating the Elf. But between his time training and then on another border patrol where he was glad to see that Erestor had not been abused or deteriorated, but instead picked up his drawings again, Glorfindel found no spare time to have an investigation.
He did not feel right entrusting this to any other Elf and there were so few of them he could trust with this. Magelin, yes he could trust the Elf but did not want to burden his friend with such a thing. Elladan he wasn’t sure about how he truly felt about him. The Twins and Legolas had not seen Erestor since his move and some even believed that the reclusive Elf was gone.
The thing that made Glorfindel the happiest was the friendship that they had formed. The biggest proof he had for that was the fact that Erestor allowed him to help him in the bath. He always remained fully clothed and did little more than help Erestor in and out of the water, but he knew such a simple thing to him must be terrifying to Erestor.
“Glorfindel…Glorfindel…” Erestor threw a brush at him and the Elf caught it, coming out of his daze.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I said I think I prefer charcoal but it came out well,” Erestor said holding up the picture of the blond Elf Lord with the symbol of his house in the background.
“Well Erestor this is amazing. It’s like looking into a mirror.”
Erestor shrugged picking up the third pad Glorfindel had got for him and decided to draw the blooming potted plant. Glorfindel went into his study to find a place for Erestor’s latest piece, noticing he starting to run out of room. He wondered if it was vain to have so many images of himself. But there were almost as many of outside scenes.
A knock on his door stopped his musing and opened it to find Elrond standing there stiffly for Erestor’s now weekly visits. The great healer who Glorfindel was starting to believe knew about as much as Figwit would in birthing this child. But Erestor did have a point that his chances were better here than anywhere else.
Elrond looked at the painting Glorfindel was holding and had to admit he was amazed by Erestor’s hidden talent. The drawings around the room showed much skill and he almost wished he could commission the Elf to brighten up Imladris.
“Why if it isn’t our favourite Elf Lord,” Glorfindel said blandly leading him into his room where Erestor put his drawing aside and started to move the paints aside. “Here, let me help,” Glorfindel said taking the bottles back into the study as Erestor sealed them. Both ignoring Elrond until they were done.
“Prod away master healer,” Erestor said moving to the side of the bed and Elrond frowned not liking the fact that he couldn’t tell if he was being insulted or not. The tone was neutral but so was most of what Erestor said. Sighing he moved to the side of the bed.