On the night before Celebrian's departure, a great party was thrown in her honor. Tents dotted the lawn and wine and other spirits flowed as freely as the water in the fountains. Food was prepared in abundance. Musicians played lively tunes and further away, singers sang and recited poetry. Melpomaen and Saelbeth walked arm-in-arm, their differences soothed at last. Celebrian came, though she did not dance, and sat beside her husband.
"I am sorry to see you go." Elrond said softly.
"Are you?" Celebrian's bright blue eyes studies her husband, who was at once familiar and unfamiliar.
"You know that I am. Celebrian," he began.
She placed her fingertips over his lips. "Shh. What is done cannot be undone, my husband. I would change it if I could, as I know you would. But that cannot be. We must live with our actions and their consequences. I am sorry for what has happened and the pain that is now a part of us."
"As am I, Celebrian. I hope you find peace in the west."
Erestor came from his rooms and drank a glass or two of wine with Saelbeth, who insisted, and with Glorfindel, who demanded it of him. He attended Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. He received his accolades from Elrond and a small token for his help in dealing with Lady Celebrian's ordeal in the form of a broach. And when it was possible, he slipped away.
He moved quietly among the guests and revelers and sought the shadows where his dark robes would best hide him. He moved stealthily and purposefully to the creek where the willow tress swayed and dipped. Kicking off his shoes, Erestor hiked up his robes and let the cool grass sooth his feet. No matter how hard he tried, the spot always managed to draw him. He had first seen Faelon and Elrond on the banks beneath the willow trees, and discovered, locked deep within himself dark desires that he had not known existed. He closed his eyes and his mind drifted back in time and he imaged he could hear the grunts and soft slaps of the willow switch on Faelon's back. Erestor shook his head to clear the images.
"You intend still to leave?"
Erestor jerked and spun. "Glorfindel."
"Who did you expect?"
"I do not know."
The warrior smiled and held out a bottle of wine. "Come share with me."
Elrond following Glorfindel, stopped and cocked his head to one side, listening to his warrior and advisor. He moved silently to a nearby tree and melted in to the shadows. He knew he should not eavesdrop on them, but he could not resist. He'd never quite understood why Glorfindel had been so steadfast in his conviction of Erestor's innocence and though he might learn something now.
"I shouldn't," Erestor wanted only to be alone. "I have had too much already."
"Liar. You have had hardly any and this celebration is because of you. This was one of Faelon's favorite spots. I suppose you knew that already."
"I suspected." Erestor did not like the idea of Glorfindel intruding upon his memories.
"Elrond's as well. You did not answer my question."
"I will sail west."
In the darkness, Elrond pursed his lips. He had not spoken of Erestor's desire to resign to anyone, not even Erestor, since the advisor first posed the suggestion. He had hoped that, once Erestor realized everyone understood what had happened and his minimal role in those events that he would understand he was still welcome in Imladris and a vital member of the council.
"What do I have to say to make you reconsider?"
"Tell me that tomorrow I will awaken and this will have been but a nightmare."
"I cannot, though I wish I could."
"It is my hope that Lady Celebrian will allow me to ride with her company to Lothlorien. From there I shall make my own way to the Havens."
"Elrond had hoped you would wait until he could reassemble his council. Saelbeth will be made Chief, of course, but his position and Golrahir's still need to be filled. Not to mention Melpomaen's, now that he is Chief Librarian."
Erestor watched a leaf twist on the current. "He will have no trouble filling the vacancies. I have to go, Glorfindel."
"Is it because you love him or because of what has happened that you feel you must go?"
"Both play a part in my decision. We fooled some of our own people, but there are those who know the truth and I find it difficult to face them. I do not know that Lord Elrond will ever again trust me and I cannot blame him."
"He does not blame you for what happened. He knows that there were many forces at work and that blame is equally shared. Can you not see your way clear to give yourself time?"
"To what end, Glorfindel? What purpose could my staying serve? I am alone and Faelon's death only makes me more alone."
"You are alone because of your own choice. There are those who would be your friends, if you would let them in; if you would learn to trust them."
"That is not the loneliness to which I was referring. You are my friend and I trust you. Saelbeth and Melpomaen are friends. I have other needs."
Glorfindel sipped from the wine bottle. "He has lost his lover. Give him time."
Erestor smiled. "I do not expect Elrond to suddenly come to me and declare his love. I am wiser than that. He is hurting and I want to comfort him and I cannot. That I cannot causes me pain for I love him and cannot bear to see him this way."
Elrond's eyes rounded as he discovered the last of Erestor's secrets. The warrior had eluded to much during their conversations, but pain and grief and anger blinded Elrond to the deeper meaning of the warrior's words. Now he understood completely. He also understood why Erestor had remained so silent. Surely, had it been known that he loved his lord, suspicion against him would have been much stronger. He also, he thought, understood why Erestor chose to maintain his silence. Again, suspicion would bet cast at him and there would be those who wondered if he really had masterminded the whole debacle. For a moment, Elrond wondered, too. Erestor was clever enough to have plotted the whole scene. He shook his head. No, Erestor was quiet and prone to secretiveness. He was not evil nor vindictive.
"So you run and hide."
"You are unfair in your accusations, Glorfindel."
"Am I? He needs you, at this moment, as an advisor. Maybe some day he will need you as more, but who is to say right now? Surely you do not mean to abandon the one you claim to love because you do not hold his heart, only his friendship? I never thought of you as selfish, Erestor. Perhaps I was wrong." Glorfindel walked away, leaving Erestor alone with his thoughts.
Elrond pressed his back to the trunk and prayed the sharp eyed warrior had imbibed too much fine elven wine to notice him. His luck held and Glorfindel passed by him without stopping. Elrond released his pent up breath. He did not know what to make of the conversation any more than he knew what to make of Erestor. The elf had always been aloof and silent and, yes, even distant. He was not unfriendly or impolite. He was, Elrond searched his mind for the appropriate word, self-contained. Yes, that was it, thought Elrond, Erestor was self-contained. And it was difficult to break through the barriers that he'd built around himself. When Elrond had seen how well the advisor got on with other members of his staff, he thought that the shields were crumbling. However, with the death of Faelon and Celebrian's unwarranted accusations, the walls were definitely being rebuilt. Elrond hated to see Erestor put himself through that. He also hated that he was hurting. The healer in Elrond did not like to see anyone in pain, even emotional pain. Yet, there was little he could do. He had no desire for a lover at the moment, as Faelon's memory was still too fresh in his mind.
Erestor wandered for a while longer by the bank. He slipped beneath the willow tree and sat listening to the wind in the branches. He imagined he could hear Faelon's soft sigh on the wind. When his melancholy threatened to reduce him to tears, he labored to his feet and returned unseen to his rooms. Inside, he went to the balcony and peered out. No one was around so he climbed outside and over to Faelon's balcony. He had not done so since Faelon's murder. The door, as usual was slightly ajar and this time Erestor pushed it open.
Walking inside, he looked around at the sheet-draped furniture. He could recall every time he'd sat watching Faelon beg for torture from Elrond. He remembered every sound and every nuance of their games. Now the room was cold and empty. Nothing of the real Faelon remained, only the ghost of his possessions.
Erestor left quietly so as not to disturb the ghosts.
*~*
Lord Elrond went to his office at dawn, as was his wont. On his desk, neatly stacked in the center of the wood, was a single parchment. He recognized Erestor's bold script and he frowned. Seating himself behind the desk, he forced his gray eyes to read the finely drawn words flowing neatly across the page. He was not surprised at what he read. He thrust the paper aside, and hearing a noise in the outer office, leapt to his feet. Sticking his head out the door, he encountered Saelbeth.
"Good morn, my lord," Saelbeth said looking up.
Elrond gathered a smile for the Assistant Advisor. "Have you seen Erestor yet?"
"No, my lord. I believe he may still be in his rooms, for I did not see him in the dining hall."
Elrond made a bold decision. "If anyone needs me, tell them I shall return shortly."
Erestor slowly sifted through the debris of his life. Books, scrolls, trinkets. So much gathered in one life and yet what was any of it? Mementos of the past, remembrances of those gone. He picked up the book Faelon had give him and leafed through the gilt-edge pages. He took a deep breath and blinked back his tears. What troubled him most, he supposed was that Faelon died believing the worst of him. A knock on his door brought his thoughts back to the immediate.
He opened the door, expecting the servant with his morning tea. "Lord Elrond." He bowed.
"May I come in?"
Erestor stood back from the door and then, as an after thought, glanced nervously around for anything that he might not want Elrond to see.
"I read your resignation." Elrond said without preamble. He sat in a chair and placed his long hands on his knees.
"I hope it meets with your satisfaction."
"No, it does not. Erestor I cannot easily replace a chief advisor. Even one who has never been completely honest with me."
Erestor licked his lips. "In what way do you believe I have not been completely honest?"
Elrond rose from the chair and walked over to the trunk at the foot of Erestor's bed. He glanced down inside and saw the contents. A sword, a small carved box, clothes. Who was his chief advisor? "I asked you why you watched Faelon and I."
"I gave you an answer, my lord."
"A partial answer. I believe there is more." Elrond held up his hand. "If my guess is correct, and I believe my instincts are true, then now is not the time to discuss it. This brings us back t the original purpose of my visit. Erestor, Imladris needs you."
Not Elrond; Imladris. What about his needs and his wants? How long could he supplant them to do another's bidding and be so terribly alone in the bargain? And what would he face in the Undying Lands? Would he face loneliness? He had friends who had sailed and he knew he would be glad to see them again. Yet, did he not have friends here? Perhaps Glorfindel was right and he was alone by his own unconscious choice.
"I will never cease to morn Faelon," Elrond said at last. "Nor will I never cease loving Celebrian and, in some ways, holding myself responsible for her injuries. But I do not have the luxury of self-indulgence. I must continue to be Lord Elrond, Master of the Last Homely House." Elrond looked up at Erestor. "This would be easier for me if I was surrounded by friends.
Erestor paused. Was he being self-indulgent? Was Glorfindel right? "Lord Elrond," he began. "With so much that has gone on between us, how can you consider keeping me on as Chief Advisor?"
"Do you mean how can I trust you?" Elrond countered. "I understand that you were close with Faelon and, in your own strange way, you loved him. Nay, Erestor, I know now that you were not in love with him. To that end, I believe you would never have harmed him."
Erestor pursed his lips. The answer worked well enough, but there was so much more that he felt Elrond should know; yet he could not bring himself to say any of it.
Elrond watched as Erestor wrapped his silence around him and repressed a frustrated sigh. He could not force Erestor to admit how he felt for that would mean that he had to give some declaration in return. And that Elrond simply could not do. Yet he needed to reassure Erestor that they were friends and he wanted Erestor to remain in Imladris. "You do not have to say anything, Erestor. All that I ask is that you stay for a little while. If you still feel the call, then I will release you. But give Imladris a chance to heal. Give yourself time to heal, as well."
Erestor stared deep in to the gray eyes and hardened his resolve. He could not do it. He simply could not stand by and watch the pain grow in Elrond and then, when he at last began to heal, watch the elf lord turn to another lover. Erestor knew his heart would shatter if such a thing should happen. And he could not take the risk. "My lord, I beg you to allow my resignation to stand."
"You told Glorfindel you loved me and you tell me that you wish to resign and sail west. You wrap yourself in your silence and give no one the chance to know you or decide how they feel about you," Elrond raged at Erestor at last, completely out of patience.
Erestor nearly staggered under the weight of Elrond's anger and his body trembled. He had no desire to tell Elrond how he felt. Oh, certainly, he was foolish for hiding his emotions, but he did not want their relationship to be soured by uncomfortable feelings. "Glorfindel told you," his voice was almost inaudible.
Elrond realized his mistake and watched as his advisor changed before his eyes. Erestor seemed to shrink in upon himself and his dark eyes went wide and blank and his face turned pale. "Nay, Glorfindel did not expose your secrets intentionally. I followed him, as you were often wont to follow Faelon and me, and over heard your conversation last night. I should not have listened, just as you should not have watched. And so both have committed an error. Yet, who is to say that it was wrong?"
Erestor tucked a lock of hair behind his ears and stared around at all his worldly goods. Now what his mind whispered? At last you are exposed and have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The urge to run was so strong in him that he turned towards the door without meaning to.
"Stop!" Commanded Elrond. He had not expected this reaction from Erestor and he wondered at it. What did it mean, this strange flight? What other secrets did Erestor hide?
"You once said that you envied Faelon." Elrond came forward and slowly circled around Erestor. "I begin to see more and more of the secrets you keep, Erestor."
"Tis uncomfortable, Lord Elrond, to be so exposed."
"Think you so, Erestor? How do you think I feel? How do you think Faelon felt?" Elrond paced in a tight circle around Erestor. "We were exposed to you, open and naked, and at our most vulnerable."
Erestor gulped. Every word was a knife that struck his heart. He could not deny the truth of Elrond's words.
"You received pleasure from watching us. You enjoyed our exposure and had not the courage to reveal yourself to us, but watched in silence—your unique silence—until you, yourself, were exposed. Now, you seek to run and hide, like a spider suddenly exposed to the light." Elrond gave full vent to the swirling emotions in a way that was so alien to him that he hardly recognized himself.
Erestor's shoulders set and his chin lifted the barest fraction. His dark eyes turned nearly black and his fine brow arched eloquently. He faced Elrond, met his angry stare and did not flinch, nor did he blink.
Elrond's anger left him in a rush and he knew that he could not break Erestor. And who was he to try? He laid a gentle hand on his advisor's shoulder and felt the strength of the muscles beneath his palm. "There was a time, long ago, when you and I served a great king—the greatest king the elves have ever known—and we were friends then, standing shoulder to shoulder, in a fight for the common good. Let us again be friends, Erestor. Let us set aside our guilt and our pain. Let those things be our strengths, not our weaknesses. Stay here with me. Help me, as you did Gil-Galad, to build a future. Let me call you friend as I used to."
*~*
Gondor, The White City, III 3019
Erestor listened to Elrond as he disciplined Eomer, the King of the Mark. His lip curled in a slight sneer as he heard the man beg. Even kings begged before Elrond. Erestor shook his head to clear the uncharitable thoughts. That which plagued Eomer was not the result of anything Elrond had done, but rather the result of a night spent in the company of Haldir of Lothlorien. Perhaps it was guilt that he lived while the elf died was part of Eomer's problem. Then too, it might simply be that Haldir had awakened something in the man that he'd never known existed. Erestor could certainly understand that. For a moment, his memories tripped back through time and he saw once again, Faelon's face as it looked when the lash licked at his tender skin. Erestor smiled. He imagined that was how his face looked as well when Elrond chose to discipline him.
He folded Elrond's clothes neatly and stacked them in the chests. He did not have to of course, for there were servants aplenty to do menial tasks and he had come to Gondor in his position as Chief Advisor, not nursemaid. But he was not happy when other people did for his lord, as he preferred to be the one to take care of Elrond. He listened to Eomer in the next room recite the events preceding Helm's Deep, when he had become a March Warden's pet and smiled. The poor mortal had apparently been so taken with Haldir that he had been willing to do almost anything. He faded into the shadows as Eomer crawled in to the room on all fours like a dog and waited for Elrond. Erestor licked his lips in anticipation.
After a short time, Elrond entered the room and drew off his robe. He pretended not to notice his advisor in the corner. Going to a special chest, he opened it and revealed a variety of implements. Some who looked at them would assume the worst torture and never associate them with sexual pleasure. Those same people would be appalled if they new how Lord Elrond preferred to use them.
He selected a whip on a metal chain and turned quickly, giving his new slave no time to think or react. He knew Eomer's sharp ears detected the faint jingle by the way his muscles tightened seconds before the lash nipped at his pale flesh. He smartly twitched the lash across Eomer's buttocks twice more before dropping the lash. "Face me," he ordered.
Eomer turned to his lord and Erestor, still tucked in the corner, stifled his own groans. The lash marks were perfect against the creamy skin. He envied Eomer and, for a brief moment, hated the Rohirrim. His assessment was unfair, he knew, as Elrond did not care for Eomer. His cock began to weep as Eomer was forced to crawl between Elrond's legs and take his rigid member between his bearded lips. Erestor desperately wanted to touch himself, to squeeze and tease his own member until he found relief. He knew he could not for Elrond would be displeased and, in the end, Erestor would suffer the more for it.
Elrond was not long in finding his release and he thrust deep into Eomer's willing mouth and spilled his seed. When Eomer had licked him clean, Elrond ordered the man to the bed and went to lay down himself.
Erestor quietly left the room and went to the sitting room, where blankets and pillows awaited him. Normally he was the one to sleep beside Elrond at night, just as he was normally the one who received the gift of his lord's discipline. That he had been allowed to watch was an honor, but he was left hungry and frustrated for more.
As he lay staring at the ceiling he heard whimpering from the other room. Erestor shifted uncomfortably on his pallet. After a few minutes, he heard a low-pitched scream that slowly built in volume before being choked off to a whimper. For a moment, Erestor hated Eomer. The thought was pushed from his head as someone pounded on the door. Apparently he was not the only one disturbed by the King Eomer's screams. He threw a robe about him and went to open the door.
Elrond joined him seconds later and together they faced a guard at their door. “We heard screaming, Lord Elrond. Is everything all right?”
“King Eomer had a nightmare,” was Elrond’s cool reply. “It has passed and he rests once again.”
The guard bowed and left, the look on his face incredulous, but he said nothing as the door closed. "May I be of service, my lord?"
"Not at the moment." Elrond returned to the sleeping chamber where Eomer lay.
Erestor tossed aside his robe and returned to his pallet. He lay quietly, listening to the distant sounds of the city. Guards still patrolled the broken walls and the castle. Even though Aragorn had returned as king with his bride Arwen, peace remained uneasy for those who had been at war in some form or another for most of their lives. Erestor stiffened when his ears detected the slight sound of feet on the rushes. Turning his head slightly, he saw Elrond approach. He sat up and waited for Elrond to speak.
"Did what you heard disturb you, my dear?" Elrond sat in a chair and watched Erestor through narrow eyes. The silence for which Erestor was famous sometimes unnerved him even after few thousand years.
"In what way do you mean disturb? If you mean was I troubled, then the answer is no. If you mean was I aroused, then the answer is yes." Erestor replied honestly.
Elrond laughed. He could not help it. "I placed my fist in his body."
Erestor's eyes widened at the thought. "No wonder he screamed so loudly."
"Indeed. You are not jealous?"
Erestor considered his answer. "I am jealous of any who shares your bed. But I know my place."
"Well spoken, Erestor. Come."
Erestor crawled forward until his head was against Elrond's knees. He felt his master's hand caress his hair and slide down over his shoulders, lightly kneading the faint red welts on his skin. He carried about him the faint scent of Eomer. Elrond's hand moved up and clasped Erestor's neck. The advisor followed the silent command and scooted up so that his faced rested on Elrond's erection.
"Your skin is healing." Elrond traced a line Erestor's shoulder blade.
"I had noticed," Erestor allowed just a small note of reproach enter his voice.
Elrond pulled his long hair rather roughly. "Do not be impertinent, Chief Advisor." Erestor remained silent. "Did you enjoy watching? Of course you did. You were always fond of watching the punishment of others." Elrond lifted his leg and draped it over Erestor's back. If he desired to do to Erestor what he'd done to Eomer, he knew his advisor would allow it. More than likely, he would bear it with far more grace than Eomer. Elrond found himself tempted to put his lover to the test.
Erestor's head rested on Elrond's thigh, just inches away from his jutting cock. If he turned his head a fraction, he could touch his tongue to it. He wanted to do just that. But he did not dare until he was given permission.
"The King of the Mark sleeps peacefully," mused Elrond aloud. He dragged his foot over Erestor's back. The skin was smooth, despite the healing welts. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering once, a long time ago, when another slave had knelt similarly. As he once told Erestor, he never stopped loving Faelon or missing him, just as he'd never forgotten Celebrian. He knew Erestor never forgot, either. More than once he'd caught the advisor thumbing through the book Faelon had given him. He knew his melancholy thoughts stemmed from the destruction of the ring and the coming end to his time in Middle Earth. With a sigh, he pushed Erestor's head to his cock.
Erestor opened his mouth wide and accepted what was thrust in to it. He liked the salty taste and tangy smell of his lord. He swallowed as he sucked, increasing his lord's pleasure as much as he could. Once he'd thought to sail west. Now he could no more think of being parted from Elrond than he could consider cutting off his own hand.
When he was close, Elrond pushed Erestor away
from him and rose. "Not yet, I think."
He entered his bedchamber and returned a moment later swinging a short leather
strap. "Is this what you want?"
"Aye, Master," Erestor's eyes hungrily followed the swinging lash.
"How much do you want it?" Elrond swung the lash through the air and it whistled.
"Please, my lord, punish me." Erestor lifted up his long dark lock, exposing his muscularback. He knelt on the cold floor, unashamed of his nakedness or his arousal. He willing subjugated himself before his master. "Please."
Elrond swung the lash twice and twin marks appeared on Erestor's cream colored skin.. They were shallow and could not have hurt the advisor so very much. But his back arched nonetheless and his breath hissed. Elrond swallowed hard. The sight of so much beauty marred by the ugly red welt never ceased to startle him. The contrast of smooth whiteness and unpleasant red lash marks stirred some secret part of him that he never quite grasped. All he knew was that he loved the sight and he loved the moans his lash elicited. Ugly and beautiful. Hideous and stunning. He swung the lash again and watched Erestor's muscles ripple. Elrond knew the stength of the muscles. He knew exactly how much Erestor could bear, both physically and emotionally. He knew, too, his own limits and they often explored their extreme reaches together. Erestor felt the same way Elrond did and the elf lord knew that, as well. He had caught Erestor staring in the polished mirror more than once, admiring the stripes on his tender skin. Even the bruises were erotic in a strange, horrific way.
"More, master, please." He rolled his head forward and down and long strands of hair obscured his face. His cock jutted from between his thighs and bobbed gently as his body swayed.
Elrond fingered the whip and smiled. He lived
for those rare moments when he broke Erestor's silence.
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