Erestor closed the door and stared once more at the room that he no longer felt he belonged in. He understood Faelon's reaction to his voyeurism and had to admit, the whole affair was vaguely perverted. However, what Erestor found most puzzling was the idea that he intended to make a play for Elrond. For the life of him, he could not fathom how such an idea had started or so quickly, for that matter. Though he loved Elrond, and that he could admit only to himself, he was wise enough not to dabble with the idea of trying to supplant his friend. Not that he would have, even if such a thing were possible.
For three hundred years, Saelbeth pined over Melpomaen. He wooed him in every way possible and still nothing worked. He decided to take one last chance with the Assistant Librarian , and after speaking with Golrahir, went in search of the elf.
"Melpomaen? You and I need to talk." Saelbeth stood behind his lover in the library and tried to remain calm though he really wanted to take the assistant librarian and shake him until his eyes rolled back in his head. For years he had tried to get Melpomaen's undivided attention, yet the Assistant Librarian remained fixated on Erestor. Sure, he and Melpomaen sometimes shared a bed, but he knew his lover was thinking of someone else. This hurt Saelbeth and irritated him. Yet, he could do nothing against Melpomaen. He loved the elf dearly. Perhaps he loved him too dearly.
"Hmmm…" Melpomaen answered, deep in thought. "Of course."
"Look at me," Saelbeth ordered.
Stunned, Melpomaen turned around. Never had Saelbeth spoken to him in such a manner. "What is wrong with you?"
Saelbeth's tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. "You are infatuated with the Chief Advisor and it's obvious. You practically throw yourself at him whenever you get the chance.."
"I am quite taken with Erestor and if I had the opportunity, I would be more than friends. I know that I have probably hurt you, but remember, I've never made you any promises." He hated hurting his friend and lover, but he knew deceit was not the answer. Their time together had been precious to him and he was grateful to Saelbeth.
Saelbeth nodded slowly. "You think that some day Erestor will wake up and realize that he is madly in love with you and you will live happily ever after."
"You make it sound so trite. I hope that Erestor will come to feel the same way and I am patient enough to wait for him."
"In the meantime, you are not opposed to being in my bed."
"Stop it, Saelbeth." Melpomaen threw up his hands. "You know, this whole conversation is going nowhere. I've never made any secrets concerning my feelings for Erestor."
"You realize that he is in love with someone else, don't you?" Saelbeth played his last card.
"What? Who?" Panic gripped Melpomaen at the thought of competition.
Saelbeth smiled wickedly. "Faelon, of course."
"That's a lie. Who told you that?"
"Golrahir." He was not certain he believed Elrond's secretary, but he was not about to share his misgivings with Melpomaen, particularly if it meant that his lover might see reason.
Melpomaen snorted. "That one spends all his time in the women's solar discussing child birthing techniques."
Saelbeth leaned forward conspiratorially. "Maybe. But he said he's caught Erestor watching."
"Watching what?"
Saelbeth placed his mouth against Melpomaen's ear and whispered.
"Saelbeth that is the vilest thing I've ever heard and it isn't possibly true. Golrahir should be careful with his tongue." But what if it was true, whispered a little voice inside his head. If Golrahir spoke the truth, then all his hopes of gaining Erestor's love were for nothing. He stared for a moment at Faelon's closed office door.
"Maybe." He could see that he would have to be more drastic in his measures if he were going to remove any possibility of obtaining Erestor from Melpomaen's head.
"I have work to do, Saelbeth." Melpomaen stalked away in a flurry of twitching robes.
Golrahir flipped his long dark hair over one shoulder and crept up behind Faelon. "Did he deny it?"
Faelon jumped. "What? No, he did not. And don't sneak up on me anymore."
"I did not sneak up on you. I told you it was true. "
"You never explained to me how you knew."
"Why else would he have watched you and Elrond?"
"He spied on us to have something to hold over Celebrian."
"So she says." Golrahir pursed his lips in thought.
Faelon rubbed his temples. "Go away, Golrahir."
Bowing slightly, the secretary backed away. "As you like."
All Faelon wanted was some fresh air to clear his head. He had doubts about Golrahir's story, but could not pin them down. Part of him believed Erestor was in love with Elrond and part of him doubted it very much. Or at the very least, felt that Erestor was too noble to act upon such emotions. Yet, his jealous and possessive nature would not let him be.
He took a seat beside a fountain and tried to compose his thoughts. Erestor's actions and his demeanor were so radically different from one another that he could not relate the two in his mind. Faelon tilted back his head and closed his eyes in thought.
Once more, Erestor's musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. He couldn't imagine, or remember, so many guests in his room or why everyone would suddenly be interested in seeing him. He opened the door and found the secretary, Golrahir, waiting expectantly. Erestor titled his head to the side.
"I hope you will forgive the intrusion, my friend, but Elrond sent me to ask if you could join him in his study in two hour's time?"
"Of course, thank you Golrahir. I shall certainly be there."
"I realize I may be overstepping my bounds, but I feel I should warn you. If I give offense, then I am sorry."
"Pardon?"
Golrahir looked down at the pointed ends of his embroidered shoes. "You should be careful of Saelbeth."
"Saelbeth?" Erestor's tone was incredulous. "Why should I be careful of him?"
Golrahir looked nervously from side to side and then held a thin finger to his lips. "Not so loud, Erestor. You are aware how attracted to you Melpomaen is, correct? Were you also aware that he and Saelbeth formed an attachment?"
"I am happy for them." He answered, still not seeing what it had to do with him.
"Melpomaen's obsession with you has placed a wedge between them and Saelbeth blames you for leading the young one on."
"I would not like for my friend to believe I was after his mate." Again, thought Erestor. "I will take care."
"Good. Sometimes to be prepared is enough. Lindir is revealing a new composition tonight. Will you be joining us?"
"I think not. I still have much to do."
"You do look a little pale. Perhaps you should take a stroll in the gardens to ease your nerves before your meeting with Lord Elrond."
A walk in the garden actually appealed to Erestor as he had not walked among the statues and fountains in many years. "You may be right, Golrahir. Thank you."
"I am glad I could be of some help. Good evening."
Saelbeth paced around the shallow pool, more like a stalker after prey, than an elf enjoying a soothing evening. His conversation with Melpomaen left him irritable and confused. He loved the Assistant Librarian and would, given even the smallest opportunity, bond with him. Yet, the elf seemed more interested in what he could not have rather than what lay before him. Complicating the issue was the fact that Erestor was also a friend. One who did not necessarily return Melpomaen's affections. He'd discarded a number of plans to get rid of Erestor, most of them benign, many somewhat juvenile and far-fetched. One extreme idea was ludicrous and desperate and completely unwarranted. The only real solution was to remove Erestor once again from the playing field. But how?
Erestor stepped on to the terrace and breathed deeply. Already he felt relaxed as the smell of primrose and late blooming jasmine drifted on the evening air. A faint breeze lifted his dark hair and he couldn't resist the smile playing on the corners of his mouth. In all his time on Middle Earth, nothing affected him like the gardens of Rivendell.
"Erestor?" Melpomaen wrung his hands lightly as he stood beside the Chief Advisor. He'd come outside to think. What he'd learned from Saelbeth had left him a little shaken and disconcerted. He wasn't upset by the idea of Erestor's voyeurism as much as he'd let on. He had his own curiosity about what went on between Lord Elrond and Faelon. Actually, his concern stemmed from the idea that Erestor might truly be in love and all his hopes were in vain.
Wondering if he'd ever again have a moment's peace, Erestor faced Melpomaen. He knew the confrontation would come, he'd only hoped to put it off for a while; maybe until the next age. "Did you need something?"
Plunging recklessly ahead, Melpomaen decided to lay his heart out for Erestor to see and hope for the best. "You know that I have admired you for a long time. I had always hoped that you admired me, as well."
"Am I to understand that by 'admire' you mean love?" Erestor was tired of playing games. His personal life was a shambles, and worse, an open topic of court gossip.
"You don't, do you? Love me, I mean. I'm not pretty, like Faelon, or clever. Maybe if I liked to be beaten you'd think I was attractive. Would you like me if I had whip marks across my back?"
Erestor clasped his hands behind his back so that he wouldn't be tempted to wrap them around Melpomaen's pretty throat. "You are extremely attractive, Melpomaen. I am given to believe that Saelbeth desires you the way you are."
"Faelon is the one you desire," Melpomaen stared beyond Erestor. "Why?"
"Faelon is not the issue here, Melpomaen. Who I love or why is of no consequence. The fact is, I consider you a friend and that's all. I wish I could say that there is a possibility I could feel more, but I will not lie to you. Is my friendship not enough?"
Intense rage colored Melpomaen's face for a moment. "I waited for you for a long time, Erestor. You shouldn't have toyed with me."
"I did not toy with you, Melpomaen." Erestor felt his own anger rising and he quashed it. Yes, in some ways he had toyed with the younger elf. He knew Melpomaen desired him and he'd done nothing to discourage it. In some ways, Erestor had always assumed it was a youthful infatuation that would fade in time. How wrong he'd been. "If I made you feel as though there was a chance for something more between us, then I am sorry."
Melpomaen said nothing as he turned and ran from Erestor and deeper in to the garden.
Faint footfalls on the path alerted Faelon to someone's presence and he opened his eyes. His head ached from the emotional turmoil and he was in no mood for company. "What do you want?"
"This."
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