THE RASCAL
Overall rating: yellow (see rating explanation below)
Category: slash (two male Elves in love)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel, Erestor/Orophin
Status: complete
Warnings: feisty!Erestor
Beta: The lovely Miss Enismirdal
Summary: It was not easy for Erestor and Glorfindel to find each other. But staying together proves to be quite a task as well!
Author's notes: the promised sequel to "Thieving Magpie". Do not let the pairings fool you - as in my other alternative universe, Erestor is a one-Elf-Elf. Well - mostly.
CHAPTER 2/8
In which Celeborn finds that Imladris has many interesting sights on offer.
"'Do not worry, my lord', you said. 'He is only an Elfling', you said. And what did he do, your harmless Elfling? He led us on! He made us look like imbeciles!"
Orophin thought to himself that, at least with one of them, this was not too hard a thing to do, but he watched his words.
"I still say that you should not worry. I admit that Master Erestor's rhetorical skills surpassed my expectations, but we are only just beginning these negotiations."
Celeborn snorted and kicked a pinecone out of his way.
"I hope that your admiration for this Elfling's 'skills' will not make you lose focus on the serious matters for which we are here. And I do not talk about bedding Erestor, Master Orophin."
Orophin halted his steps, throwing his arms up theatrically.
"My lord Celeborn! How can you even think such a thing! My intentions are the purest! I feel that fair young Erestor needs some guidance, and I am willing to help him with... my experience. So you can see that I only spend time with him out of the sheer goodness of my heart."
Celeborn groaned.
"Please spare me this nonsense, Orophin. I know you and your ways. You have set your mind on bedding Erestor. I do not mind this - your love life is none of my concern - but be warned: should your interests collide with my intentions, I will send you home, and you can spend the next two ages counting spiders in Mirkwood!" {The dashes seem to mark it out better as an aside to the main sentence, I think.}
Orophin shook his head and gave his lord his most charming smile. Then he stepped a little closer.
"My lord, you certainly know that I do not do anything without a reason," he said, lowering his voice. "I admit that Master Erestor is a skilled advisor. And it can only be in our own interest if he and I become... good friends. He will be putty in my hands, my lord, and with Erestor out of the way, Elrond will be putty in yours."
Celeborn gave Orophin a stern look. He had always secretly admired his advisor's fair face, but the razor sharp mind behind the hazel eyes and the winning smile made him feel uncomfortable.
"At times, you succeed in scaring even me, Orophin. Let us sit under this tree there and take a rest. I do not wish to return to the Last Homely House yet."
"You wish is my command, my lord," Orophin quickly replied, and the two Elves dropped into the soft grass under an old oak tree. For a while, they sat in silence, each of them contemplating their plans, when suddenly Celeborn sat up straight, spitting out the blade of grass he had been chewing on.
"Now that is what I call a sight for sore eyes! Look over there, Orophin!"
Celeborn grabbed Orophin by the shoulder, and when the advisor looked up, he saw what had excited his lord so much. Indeed, a fair creature!
"My lord, you have impeccable taste, as usual. What a fair face, and what lovely hair."
"And I am quite sure that even more precious treasures are hidden under that ugly robe. Pray tell, Orophin, do you know this beautiful creature?"
Orophin grinned.
"That is Feronil. I heard he was expelled from Lord Elrond's council for total incompetence. I think he is now working as a gardener."
"Interesting. Very interesting. Maybe our stay here will be far more entertaining than I had thought," Celeborn said. His view followed Feronil until the young Elf disappeared in Elrond's rose garden.
"A word of caution," Orophin said. "Your wife is with you, as you remember, and I do not think that she would take kindly to any... multifaceted interests of yours."
Celeborn shrugged.
"Orophin, we are in Imladris. She cannot read minds under the influence of Vilya. The Valar know that I would give my whole fortune if I could talk that ring out of Elrond. I have no wish for complications, solely for some entertainment. And fair Feronil looks very promising. He would look very decorative tied with silk scarves to the headboard of my bed."
Orophin shrugged.
"As you wish, my lord. I just thought it to be my duty to warn you."
Celeborn clenched his jaw.
"I appreciate your concern, Master Orophin, though I am not half the hen-pecked husband you might think me to be. And let me give you a word of warning in return: Glorfindel will not take kindly to any competition."
For a moment, there was silence, with Orophin staring at Celeborn in disbelief. Then he began to chuckle, giggle and finally burst out into loud laughter.
"I fail to see what is so amusing about my remark. For the Valar's sake, stop this ridiculous laughter, you sound like a clogged drainpipe."
"Heartfelt apologies, my lord," Orophin chuckled, trying hard not to laugh again. "However, the mere thought of Erestor with that dusty fossil is just - hilarious! I do not know who told you this, but the Elf was pulling your leg. Erestor is as much interested in Glorfindel as I am in Thranduil of Mirkwood. Glorfindel 's time is over. He would have been better off staying in the Halls of Waiting, instead of sitting here and being useless."
Celeborn shook his head and gave Orophin a stern look.
"This might be true, but it is very obvious that Glorfindel cares deeply for the young one. Of what nature this care is, I do not know, and it is none of my concern. I just advise you to keep in mind that Glorfindel is still an excellent sword fighter. He might be a shadow of his old self today, but he deserves our respect. He has done a lot for our people."
Orophin yawned and stretched, letting himself fall back on to the soft grass.
"Point taken, my lord. However, it will take me no longer than a week to have Erestor at my feet, worshipping every move I make. As for Glorfindel - bad luck. The winner takes it all, the loser stays behind. He will have to find somebody else to keep his bed warm at night."
Celeborn had his doubts, but if somebody should teach his arrogant advisor a lesson, he would be the last one to object. And this aside, pursuing Feronil would be far more interesting than watching Orophin courting Erestor.
He stood up, and brushed grass blades and dry leaves off his robe.
"Let us return to the Last Homely House, Orophin. We need to go through the papers for tomorrow, and I wish for some wine."
"Wine is always a good idea," Orophin agreed, and stood up as well. "I might gift Master Erestor with a bottle of my finest."
"You mean - <i>that</i> wine?" Celeborn asked, arching an eyebrow.
"But indeed, my lord. I do not doubt my talents, but sometimes, a little gentle persuasion can be most helpful in matters of the heart."
The two Elves strode away from the tree, towards the Last Homely House, each of them contemplating their own upcoming hunt and the pleasure of bagging their prey.
* *
"Are they gone?" Elrond whispered. "I cannot see them from here."
Erestor peeked around the green curtain of the leaves.
"They have almost reached the gates, my lord. I think it is safe for us to leave this tree. It is about time; my legs have gone numb and if I had to sit on this tree any longer, I would have started to collect nuts and to build a nest for the winter."
Elrond took a hold of the branch and swung elegantly towards the ground, landing on his feet without wavering once. Erestor hooked his legs over the branch and dropped down backwards, hanging there like a bat, gently swinging to and fro.
"This is a debacle," Elrond groaned, holding his head. "Of all the Elves in Imladris, he had to set his eyes on Feronil! What am I supposed to do now? Oh dear, I am doomed!"
"You are not, my lord," Erestor's voice could be heard from above "Just tell Celeborn that you have first dips on Feronil. I am sure he would respect this."
"Brilliant idea, splendid!" Elrond snapped. "How do you imagine this conversation to go? 'Dear father of my late wife, would you mind if I started a love affair with this lovely Elf here?' Yes, I can see Celeborn dancing with delight."
"Silly me, I had completely forgotten that he is your father in law. Let me think..."
Elrond watched with fascination how Erestor swung gently, his long hair almost reaching the ground.
"Could you also think while sitting or standing, like every other normal Elf?" Elrond asked. "I find your behaviour highly irritating."
"I would have thought that you knew by now that I am not normal, my lord," Erestor replied cheerfully. "This is the perfect position to think, because all the blood goes to the head and nurses the brain. Most of the evil in our world stems from Elves, Men and Dwarves thinking while standing. The blood goes in regions which have little to nothing to do with rational thinking, and the result can be seen everywhere."
Elrond preferred not to comment, though he had to admit there was some truth in Erestor's words. He sat down in the grass, and sighed deeply.
"This will not end well for me, Erestor. Celeborn will sooner or later find out what Feronil means to me. If I am lucky, all this will cost me is the Mithril to calm him. In the worst case, Celeborn will take the Mithril <i>and</i> Feronil."
Erestor chuckled, still swinging from the branch.
"My lord, do not worry about happenings that have not yet come to pass. Leave it up to me to handle this, and all will turn out well."
Elrond looked up and glared at the young Elf.
"Your constant good humour is highly annoying, Master Erestor! Leaving this up to you would be madness. I do not trust you further than I can throw you."
Erestor giggled, took a final swing and jumped down to land beside Elrond with an elegant backflip.
"It speaks for your intelligence that you do not trust me, my lord," he said cheerfully, picking some pieces of bark from his jerkin. "But as you do not have anything to lose, you might as well let me do what I think will be best for you, Imladris, Feronil and, last but not least, myself."
Elrond considered his options for a while, then he slumped his shoulders and got up.
"Very well. Do as you think best, just make sure I will not be involved or know anything about it. And please do me this favour: do not run off to Lothlórien with Master Orophin. At least not before we have come to a decision regarding the Mithril."
Erestor wrinkled his nose.
"My lord, I admit that Master Orophin is very fair of face, and had I met him earlier, I would not have beaten him off with a stick. As a matter of fact, I would have probably used the stick to shoo him to my bedchamber. Alas, times have changed, and the Elf has to be born yet that would make me grovel at his feet."
The advisor sniffed arrogantly and wrinkled his nose.
"Orophin. Now seriously."
"Do not be so toffee-nosed, Master Erestor. Orophin is a seasoned warrior and a sly old fox. You might grovel before him faster than you think."
Erestor did not dignify this statement worthy of a reply, and he marched off towards the Last Homely House. Elrond had to hurry to keep up with the young Elf, silently envying him for the light spring in his steps.
Erestor still had to learn a lot, he mused. Elrond knew all too well what was going on behind the fair face of his light-headed advisor, just like he knew what was going on behind Glorfindel's. And as he was a wise old Elf with a lot of experience, he knew very well that Erestor could not have cared less for his lord, Feronil, the Mithril or possible problems with Celeborn.
Alas, Elrond also knew Erestor well enough by now to be confident that anybody calling Glorfindel a "dusty fossil" was in for unpleasant times. A prospect which, it went without saying, improved Elrond's mood significantly.
* * *
TBC