Warning! Midnight Scribbles is a SLASH site!Slash is Males (or Females *rarely here*) in sexual relationship. Stories here range from PG - NC-17. So if you are not of age in your country of origin, or this does not interest you Leave Or come on in for some smutty fun.
TagsAmras/Amrod Amrod Anya/Draco Ares/Joxer Behind Closed Doors Bound Buffy/Spike Celebrian Clark/Lex Cupid/Strife Dick/Bruce Elladan/Elrohir Elrohir/Legolas/Elladan Elrond/Celebrian Elrond/Glorfindel Elrond/Thranduil Erestor Erestor/Elrond Erestor/Glorfindel Erestor/Thranduil Fairy's Dreaming Faith Fan Fic 100 - Hercules/Xena Giles Haldir/Melpomean Icons Legolas/Aragorn Legolas/Boromir Lindir/Melpomaen Mani Marte NaNoWriMo 2007 Never Never Land OFC OMC Rain Raising Mischief Regret and False Pretense Slash 100 - LotR Spike/Xander Strife Tangled Web Thranduil Turin/Laieth Willow/Tara Xander
Tag Archives: OFC
Erestor gripped his chest in agony, feeling as though someone was cleaving his heart in two. He would have made a noise if he could and he was glad he was alone. Glorfindel still had not returned from whatever he went off to do. He sat up slowly as the feeling passed. It made his injured ribs child’s play.
Suddenly the door opened but instead of blond he saw silver hair. Celeborn walked in looking grim. Erestor pulled the sheets closer to him, afraid of what the other Elf would say and do. He could never be sure. Even Glorfindel… Erestor’s thoughts wandered to the anger he had seen on Glorfindel’s face and a vice gripped his heart yet again.
Celeborn rushed to his side and helped to support the Elf. “Just breathe through it, that’s it, like that.” Once the pain subsided Celeborn pulled out a small vial similar to the one Belgor had been forcing on him.
“Here, this will help to restore your voice,” Celeborn said, glad when Erestor did not struggle more and simply drank down the vial. Celeborn watched as Erestor attempted to say something. “Not that quickly, a few hours or so and you will be able to whisper. By tomorrow you should have full use of your voice. Just do not over use it.”
“I just don’t know what to do any more. I just can’t believe he lied to me,” Glorfindel said staring out the window. “The proof is down the hall but still, I can’t believe it. And then with the baby. For a moment…why did he choose that moment to cry?”
“Erestor has very cold hands as of late. Not to mention babies have been known to be extremely sensitive to emotions,” Celeborn replied.
“How bad is it really?”
“Even with the weakened condition Erestor was already in it will be a slow, wasting death. At the very least it will be months before he passes. It is why most take their lives while they still can.”
“Is there anything…I mean…”
“You underestimated your worth. With out you or the child depending on him Erestor continues to sink. The only acknowledgement he gives me is eating barely enough to sustain a small bird.”
“But why is he shacked?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to do anything to him?” Elrond asked as he moved his pawn.
“Elrond, if you haven’t noticed I haven’t been deeply worried about this,” Thranduil said capturing the pawn. “It’s a nice vacation if nothing else. Besides I hear you have punished him quite thoroughly.”
“Just as well. He seems to be ‘fading’, putting on a good show of it for Celeborn,” Elrond, studying the board, didn’t notice the look Thranduil gave him. “So how is Mirkwood? I should pay you a return visit soon, but…”
“I would not leave a pet in the hands of those fools, let alone a whole realm. Mirkwood is as it always is: a shell of its former self.”
“Are things getting worse in Mirkwood?” Elrond asked as he moved a warrior, not caring to get into a discussion about Erestor.
Viiresse watched as her husband sat at a window, his mind elsewhere. Word had spread of Erestor’s suicide attempt the day before and since then Thranduil had been oddly silent. She was worried and deep down she felt she knew what she feared.
“Husband, walk with me. There can be nothing of interest at that window.”
“Actually it overlooks the training ground. Legolas and Elrohir are sparring. Elladan acts as judge.”
“And you are paying no attention to them. What troubles you?”
“It’s… Nothing. I suppose I do not like the reasons for us being here. I do not like the fact that I left Mirkwood in the hands of an advisor, no matter how competent. But mostly I fear it is true.”
“True? What do you mean true?” Viiresse hissed.
Looking up he saw the Prince of Mirkwood and who he assumed to be the Queen. “Lying, disgusting, abnormal, pile of filth!”
Erestor grimaced as the pain in his face felt like nothing compared to the pain in his nether regions. He wouldn’t be able to stand much longer.
“How dare you accuse Thranduil of tainting himself with the likes of you!”
He pressed his already soiled robe against his body and could feel it soaking his hands. He barely noticed that Viiresse was still speaking, instead gazing out the window behind her. The storm from the night before had passed though the sky was still dreary and grey.
Elladan could take no more. Erestor’s screams were clawing at his heart. The rain had long since stopped and now his cries were deafening to him at least. Whatever was involved in the male birthing process it seemed dozens of times more uncomfortable than what females went through.
He looked up, sensing his brother’s return before he actually entered the room. “Ro,” Elladan started tiredly to his refreshed brother, “I can’t sleep here, help me to our room?”
“Of course,” Elrohir said helping Elladan to stand and supporting most of his weight as they left the hall. “That been going on long?” He asked as a pain filled moan echoed through the empty hall.
“Since last night. I don’t know if I would have been able to take much more,” Elladan said as Elrohir hefted him up and made his way up the stairs. Opening the door to his room Elladan looked around. “Legolas?”
Glorfindel looked about Erestor’s room wondering if he would even be able to find anything. So many Elves had been through here. Cleaning, arranging and just being nosy. What evidence would there be? Even that blue robe had gone.
Pacing around the bedroom he wondered what he would really find. Servants had been through the room dozens of times. They had cleaned and changed the sheets…Glorfindel looked and found they hadn’t.
These were the same sheets from his impromptu visit. He vividly remembered staring at the pattern as he held a naked, sobbing Erestor close. Counting the little circles as he waited for the Elf to calm. Without another thought Glorfindel stripped the bed, but there was nothing on the mattress. Not a stain, not even a mark of a past stain.