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A Happy Yule
Author: Nienna
Beta: Eawen Penallion
Email: [email protected]
Rating: R
Pairing: Erestor/Gil-galad
Warnings: None but my blatant disregard for Master Tolkien and his edicts. Please excuse the snark, the slang, and the unapologetic Americanizing of our most beloved elves. It�s all in good fun.
Request: Erestor/Glorfindel OR Erestor/Gil-galad OR Legolas/Elrohir. maybe some drama, some fluff, maybe some plot
Written For: Asha Dreamweaver
Lindon, 1205 SA
In Erestor�s opinion the soft singing from the halls three floors below, along with a merrily crackling fire and warm mead, helped to lull one into a dreamy comfort. A soft nest of blankets and pillows was laid before the fire and a tray rested on a small table nearby, filled with dried fruits and cheeses, as well as several sweeter treats. A small wrapped package, half hidden behind an earthenware pitcher of fruit juice, waited only for happy fingers to let loose the ribbons. Only a few candles burned in the large room, and Erestor himself was changing into comfortable clothing, a loose tunic and sleep pants.
Looking around, Erestor decided he was missing nothing. Well, except his lover, but he couldn�t help that. Settling down before the fire he laid back, his long black hair spilling over the silk cushions, and began his wait. He knew Gil was due any time. Careful planning and knowing well his lover�s ways made it easy to assure everything was ready and the blankets just warmed before Gil would arrive.
As the singing grew louder, Erestor sat up and poured two cups of mead from the warming pot set into the embers on the fire�s edge. He put them on a low footstool, propping himself up on pillows once more. It would not be long now.
The mead had now cooled to a pleasant warmth, and footsteps echoed in the hall outside. Fixing his slate grey eyes on the door, Erestor smiled in anticipation of his lover�s entrance. He watched as the handle moved, the lever pushed down, and the door opened slowly. A tall figure slipped into the room, turning his back to shut the door. A forehead leaned for a moment against the wooden surface, hands splayed on the carved oak. Long gleaming brown hair spilled over strong shoulders, covering robes of deepest red, brushing the cinched waist.
Erestor smiled. �Tired, Gil n�n?�
Those broad shoulders shook as a chuckle rumbled through the room. Gil-galad turned his head and grinned at Erestor in his plush nest. �Aye, I am.� The High-King pushed off from the door, reaching up to draw his circlet from his head and freeing his braids at the same time. �I had hoped you would be here.�
�Am I not always?� Erestor held out a hand. �Come and join me. There are many pleasantries waiting for you in my den of decadence.�
Gil-galad looked for a moment at Erestor�s face, appalled at the thing that just came from his lover�s lips. �Are you serious?�
Erestor�s lips twitched. �Please. You know me better than that.� Erestor laid back in the warm blankets.
The soft sigh of fabric falling called his attention once more to his lover and he looked up, not moving his head from it�s comfortable perch. Gil stood naked, one long arm reaching into a deep wardrobe, pale buttocks aimed right at him. Erestor licked his lips. �Stop ogling me. Let a King dress in peace.�
Erestor smirked, settling back to wait for Gil. �I�m not ogling, my love, I am merely planning.�
�Oh. That�s allowed. Plan away.�
�Thank you.�
�You are welcome.�
Long fingers slid into his hair, and Erestor turned into the caress. Gil lowered himself into the pile of blankets and pillows on Erestor�s left side, and leaned down to kiss his lover. Erestor closed his eyes, raising his head and meeting Gil�s lips, drawing a sharp breath as their lips made contact. Several more kisses were exchanged in this fashion, lips open, heated, but merely kisses of greeting. They parted, Erestor looking up at Gil, hand tangled in his long hair, and he smiled.
�Welcome to my love nest.�
Gil snorted, laughter consuming his warrior�s frame as he collapsed against the pillows. Erestor chuckled, enjoying the sight of his King-lover at his ease. Gil�s laughter meant no troubling thoughts burdened a kingly mind, and Erestor often made an effort to draw that precious sound from his Gil. As they quieted down, Gil turned on his side, his face free of the worry lines that so often creased his brow, a twinkle in his soft blue eyes. �So- now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?�
Erestor reached over and retrieved the two cups of mead. �Nothing scary. Don�t worry.� He handed Gil one of the cups and raised it in salute. �Happy Yule, Gil.�
Gil smiled, raising his own cup. �And to you, meleth.�
They sipped at the spiced wine in comfortable silence, Erestor nestled in his nest and Gil nestled against him. The fire danced in the grate opposite them, lending warmth to the cold winter night. Gil-galad sighed against Erestor, setting aside his near empty cup.
�Are you hungry?� he asked Erestor. The whine in his voice spoke of a king too long at his duties with no thought to his own empty belly. Luckily, Erestor had already thought of that.
�I have thought of everything, Gil.� Erestor patted Gil-galad�s shoulder and he shifted, letting Erestor raise slightly. He retrieved the tray of food, setting it between them as they each moved into a more seated position. �I have heard that the way to an elf�s heart is through his stomach.�
�I love you.� Gil sighed as he surveyed the repast before him. Erestor laughed.
Taking a piece of cheese and nibbling, Erestor leaned back on his elbow. �So what happened after I left?�
Gil popped a dried apple. �Well, lots actually. You always leave before it gets good.� A second apple slice followed. �The young daughter of the new smith found herself very popular this evening, but I saw the slut cut her bodice and split her skirts once her father had gone to bed. I expect a wedding come the morn.�
Erestor snorted. �I expect more than one.�
Gil continued, �Lindir has learned a new trick.�
�Oh?�
�He can now turn his flute into a fountain. Wine went everywhere. I have banned him from playing his instruments while intoxicated.�
�I am not surprised. He does run with a wild crowd.� Erestor nodded sagely, a bit of cheese on his chin. Gil reached out and brushed it off.
�Oh, and Elrond jumped up on the head table and serenaded us with �100 Bottles of Mead on the Wall.� Twice.�
Erestor burst out laughing, teetering wildly where he sat. Gil-galad moved quickly and lifted the tray just as Erestor fell, clutching his stomach, tears streaming from his eyes. He lay there laughing, hooting and howling, while Gil held the tray above their heads, rolling his eyes. A reluctant grin split his lips after a short time, the absurdity of the situation getting the better of him.
�Elrond, singing??� The usual stoic advisor snorted in a very indelicate manner. �I will never let him forget it.� Erestor gasped, wiping his eyes and sitting up once more, the occasional giggle bubbling forth.
Gil-galad set the tray down, but kept one hand on it, just in case. �Yes well he was rather out of tune. I expect it was all the Gondolin Gutbusters he and his goofball friends were chugging.�
�Just what *is* a Gondolin Gutbuster, darling?� Erestor asked.
�Three parts new wine, two parts pure alcohol, one part apple juice and a pickle. Then you top off the glass with C�rdan�s moonshine, then set the whole thing on fire.�
�And they actually consume these concoctions?� Erestor asked, gagging slightly.
�I never said they were any good.�
�And how many did he have?� Erestor asked, half in awe at the iron stomach of their Half-elf friend.
�From what I saw, at least two dozen.� The High-King selected a particularly juicy fig puff. �But I�m sure he had way more than that.�
�No wonder he was singing.� Erestor took a bite of fruit pie. �That�s enough alcohol to down a small country.�
�I don�t want to be near him in the morning.� Gil-galad snickered. �He�ll have a hangover fit for Mordor.�
�Steer clear.� Erestor smirked.
Gil-galad sighed. �He is but a child.�
Erestor laughed. �Let us not forget, my love, that you are but a handful of years older than Elrond.� Erestor poked Gil-galad in the ribs with a bare toe.
�Shh! They�ll hear you!� The High-King smirked. �Besides, I act older.�
�Oh yes, my lord. You act much older than Elrond.� He said dryly. �Need I remind you that it was only last month that I fished you *both* out of the water trough, singing �There Once Was a Man From Nantucket� at the top of your lungs?� Erestor reached for a piece of cheese, only to have the tray disappear under his fingers.
In one swift movement, Gil-galad had slid the tray onto the floor and captured Erestor�s wrist. With a grace he hid beneath layers of heavy robes of office, Gil rolled Erestor flat on his back, effectively pinning him to the blankets beneath a long warrior�s frame. Erestor�s body hardened instantly. Gil-galad smiled. �If you had come with me like I asked,� Gil rolled his hips slowly; Erestor hissed and closed his eyes, �I wouldn�t have been drinking with Elrond, but with you. And that, an�ron n�n, would have ended with much more pleasant results.�
�Of that I have little doubt.� Erestor said, his voice strangled. �Do you plan to do anything here or are you just going to be a big fat cock tease?�
Gil-galad growled, his blue eyes narrowing, �Just for that, I should get up and not touch you for a year.�
Erestor smirked. �You wouldn�t dare. Two weeks and you would be back begging for it.�
�Shall we test this?� Gil asked, his voice taking on a dangerously determined edge.
�No, my King. I should hate to witness the state of this realm should you be denied of your pleasure. You are such a ogre when you�re horny.�
Gil-galad grinned. �You�re right. But you would tease the shit out of me just for the sport of it. So it�s hardly fair.�
�I never said anything about fair, Gil darling.� Erestor grinned wickedly.
�Oh you just wait. You�ll get yours someday, and when you do-� Gil broke off, interrupted as he was by a knock on his chamber door.
�Who the hell can that be?� Erestor asked, not at all happy that his do not disturb order had been ignored. He sat up, easily pushing Gil-galad off him, and looked to his King-lover.
�I don�t know.� Gil rose, thrusting one hand down his pants and adjusting himself. He went to the door, opening it only as far as necessary. Erestor saw a roll of parchment emerge through that crack and his lover took it, speaking to the mystery visitor in low tones.
The door closed as silently as it was opened, and Gil-galad made sure to turn the lock, just in case. He turned the missive in his hands, slowly walking back to Erestor.
�Gil.�
He looked up as Erestor rose on his knees, one hand slipping into the waistband of his trousers and the other closing around the parchment. One tugged while the other tossed, sending both lover and message flying.
�Now is not the time. It is Yule, the Solstice, the one night in the year where a High-King can lock himself in his room and the rest of the world can go to hell.� Erestor said in a soft voice, his eyes locked on Gil�s. �You deserve one night free from duty.�
�I have a responsibility, Erestor.�
�Yes, and if it were life and death that messenger would have been at least five advisors, instead of one errand boy with a roll of parchment.� Erestor ran a soothing hand down Gil�s back. �Would you feel better if I read it?�
�Yes.�
�Alright.� Erestor kissed his lover, and stroked his cheek, then rose to retrieve the parchment.
Gil waited, his every line tense.
Erestor picked up the scroll, looking at the seal, which was neither official nor any he recognized. Puzzled more by this than anything else, Erestor slid one fingernail along the wax, slicing the seal neatly and unrolling the thick paper. The handwriting was not familiar, and barely legible, and Erestor walked closer to a candle for better light. As he read, he became even more mystified by the cryptic nature of the letter. In an effort to understand it, he read it again, slower.
My King,
I have completed your order, and hope that it meets your specifications. All is in place for the second half of your
request, and all you need do is send word and I shall begin the
work immediately. I do hope he likes it.
Yours in service,
Artie the Man
�Gil I do not understand this. What have you commissioned and who is this Artie?� Erestor asked, turning to face Gil-galad, who still knelt in the center of the nest of blankets.
�Now is not the time of year for questions, my love.� Gil�s voice held a hint of excitement that Erestor did not miss.
�Gil have you lost your mind?� Erestor asked, half exasperated and half amused at his lover, who if nothing else was inside a big child.
�No, Erestor. My mind is right where I left it. Come here and you�ll understand.�
Erestor tossed the parchment on the table, covering his gift for Gil on his way to the blanket-nest. He was not truly worried, but Gil-galad did have a penchant for mischief and Erestor had learned that his King-lover was capable of anything. He knelt in the same spot he had vacated, sitting back on his heels. �What is this all about?�
Gil-galad smiled, a sweet smile full of promise. �Your Yule gift, silly.�
Erestor looked at Gil, not understanding how a Yule gift and a wacko letter could possibly be related. �What?�
The High-King snickered. �Just open the damn box Erestor.� The affection in his voice was thick, and Erestor took the small wrapped box he hadn�t even noticed Gil holding.
It was square, about the size of one�s palm, and wrapped with a piece of red fabric. A ribbon of gold sparkled at him and with fingers that only slightly trembled, Erestor grasped the bow�s tail and tugged. Gently, reverently, he untied and set aside the ribbon then unfolded the red silk from the box, setting that beside the ribbon. A simple wooden box was resting in his palm, giving no outward sign of the gift within.
Erestor looked up at Gil, and received a nod of encouragement. He could not explain it, but he was all of a sudden nervous. When one received a box of this sort from one�s beloved, it was generally a sign that one�s life was about to drastically change. Taking a deep breath and looking back to the box, having drawn comfort from Gil�s familiar loving gaze, Erestor removed the lid.
Nestled inside the box, resting in a bed of blackest velvet and propped up with something beneath, lay a ring. Erestor�s breath left his body in one great whoosh and his hands began to shake. His eyes filled with tears, obscuring the beautiful ring. He blinked rapidly, clearing his vision, looking at the band of gold. It was set with a large glittering diamond, flanked by several smaller stones of the purest garnet he had ever seen. The wide gold band shone brightly, and held snug to the precious stones set within.
Heart pounding, mind swirling, he looked up at Gil. The King was watching him carefully, a hopeful smile on his face. Gil�s words were barely audible over the pounding in his ears, and he had to focus on his lover�s moving lips to ground himself.
�Erestor, will you marry me?�
Erestor let out a happy watery laugh, snot and tears dripping from his face. He ran a hand under his nose, sniffing and smiling, giggling through his tears. �Oh Gil. Look.� He pointed to the table. �Under the paper.�
Gil moved aside the parchment, revealing Erestor�s gift. He picked up the small package, wrapped in ivory silk and tied with gold ribbon. Gil looked up at Erestor, puzzlement and wonder warring in his eyes, and tore into the gift. Silk and ribbon flew and the lid of the simple wooden box clattered to the ground, baring the gift within to Gil-galad�s eyes.
A ring nestled in a bed of blackest velvet, and propped up to show the beautiful workmanship, winked in the candlelight. It too was a wide band of gold but set with a sizable square emerald, with two smaller garnets on either side. Gil-galad looked up at Erestor.
The advisor laughed, one hand covering his mouth, eyes still streaming. �I was going to ask you the same thing.�
Gil-galad�s face broke into a wide grin and he laughed, the happy sound filling the room.
�I take it your answer is yes.� Erestor said.
The King threw his arms out. �Of course it is!� He took the ring from the box Erestor held, and slipped it on the fourth finger of his left hand. �And yours is the same.�
Erestor picked up Gil�s ring and did as the King, sliding the ring onto the fourth finger of Gil�s left hand. �Ignore the snot, dearest.�
Gil laughed, wiping his hand on Erestor�s tunic. �My love, you are a disgusting mess.�
�Well what else did you expect when you give me a ring, stones thrown at your head?� Erestor used one of the blankets to wipe his face of tears and boogers and blow his nose. He ignored Gil-galad�s look of disgust.
�That was my favorite blanket.�
�You can wash it.� Erestor straightened, brushing his hair over his shoulders, the new weight on his left hand filling him with a bubbly contentedness and the grin on his face impossible to ignore. �How do I look?�
Gil sat back and studied his newly intended lover. �Well, you have knots in your lovely hair, your eyes are red and still leaking, there is snot clinging to nose hair in your left nostril, and your cheeks are all blotchy.� Gil smiled, his soft blue eyes bright with moisture. �You are beautiful.�
Erestor melted, a fresh wave of watery sobs threatening, and Gil rose, heading out of the room. He returned moments later with a wet cloth, kneeling before Erestor once more. With gentle hands, he bathed Erestor�s face with the warm cloth, smoothing strands of black silk back and placing a kiss on his forehead. He pulled back, and Erestor was caught in Gil�s blue eyes. He leaned forward, and keeping eye contact until the last possible second before their lips met, Erestor kissed his intended. Slowly, softly, and with all the love in his heart, Erestor wrapped his arms around Gil-galad, reaching up one hand to stroke a downy cheek.
Gil dropped the wet cloth out of sight, sliding his dry hand into Erestor�s hair and with the other pulling him closer. The King laid him down, following to lay close beside, and kissed him still.
Erestor pulled back, looking up into Gil�s face. �Gil, who�s Artie?�
And the High-King Gil-galad shut up his trusted advisor turned blushing bride-to-be in the most delicious way possible. But that, my friends, is another story.
The End
Elvish translations:
meleth: love
an�ron n�n: my desire
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