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 4/8
In which Glorfindel's pride is injured.
Being the skilled hunter that he was, it did not take Celeborn long to find his prey. Feronil sat on a bench beneath one of Elrond's rosebushes and was reading a book. He was so engrossed in the tale that he did not notice when the Lord of Lothlórien approached him.
"Is this book worth reading?" Celeborn asked, and Feronil, taken by surprise, dropped the tome. He bent down to pick it up, but this had also been Celeborn's intention, and so their heads collided.
"My apologies," Celeborn said, and rubbed his forehead. "I hope I did not cause you any pain - I have been told quite frequently that I am rather hard-headed."
Feronil smiled shyly and shook his head.
"Oh no, my lord, please do not apologise, nothing happened. I should have been more careful."
Feronil sat back on the bench. Celeborn mentally rubbed his hands together over this wonderful opportunity to get to know the young Elf and settled beside him.
"So tell me, what is your name, young one? And what are your duties in Rivendell?"
Slightly intimidated by the Elf lord, Feronil shifted uncomfortably.
"My name is Feronil, my lord, and I... do things. For Lord Elrond. Gardening things, mostly."
"Ah, I see."
Of course Celeborn did not see anything but the lovely Elf in front of him. Feronil was impressed by him; good. And very flattered, no doubt. This would make things far easier.
"You are as fair as the roses you look after, Feronil," Celeborn said in a husky voice. Feronil dropped his gaze and a strand of hair fell into his face. Celeborn gently pushed the loose strand behind Feronil's ear, which caused the embarrassed Elf to blush even more.
"You are very kind to say such a thing, my lord, even if it is not true."
Celeborn gave Feronil his most blinding smile.
"Ah, but it is true, Feronil! I dare say that you are the most beautiful flower in Imladris."
Feronil, whose distress Celeborn mistook for being flattered, stood up quickly.
"I... I have to go, my lord, I have to... there are things... I may not be late..." he stammered, then picked up his book and pressed it close to his chest, like a warrior might clutch his shield.
"What a pity, I enjoyed our conversation," Celeborn replied, his face expressing serious regret. "I hope your duties will leave you some time to continue it one of these days."
Feronil did not answer. Celeborn sighed and raised as well.
"Well met, Feronil. I hope we will meet soon again," he said, and was just about to turn and leave when something caught his eye. He reached out and touched the hairclip in Feronil's hair. It was quite a pretty thing, made of mithril with white gems in the shape of a butterfly.
"How curious," Celeborn said. "That looks exactly like the one Elrond usually wears."
"Really? Oh, I did not know that..." Feronil spluttered. "I am sorry, my lord, I really have to go now."
With that, Feronil all but ran away, leaving a puzzled Celeborn behind.
Celeborn scratched his head. Now this was really odd - he was absolutely certain that the hair clip Feronil wore was Elrond's. But why would some gardener wear one of Elrond's precious pieces of jewellery? There could only be two reasons: either the young Elf had stolen the hair clip, or...
Celeborn grinned, and rubbed his hands.
'Elrond, you old rascal,' he thought to himself, 'you have lured this pretty young thing into your bedchamber! How very good to know. This will be most useful in further negotiations!'
Things were really turning out interesting, Celeborn thought. And competing with Elrond for Feronil's affection would make the challenge even more interesting. Though it was not really a challenge after all, for who could resist him, the lord of Lórien?
Celeborn returned to his chambers, a skip in his step and whistling a merry tune.
* * *
"And then he made moo-eyes... and then saw the hair clip... and he said it looks like yours... and then he had this look on his face... and then.... oh, beloved, he will ruin everything!"
"Shhhh, now calm down, everything will turn out just fine, trust me, Feronil."
Elrond held his distraught lover in his arms, kissing Feronil's head and rubbing his arms. His own feelings on the matter were far less optimistic than his words, though. He knew Celeborn well enough to see that he had figured out by now what the true nature of his relationship with Feronil was. And he did not have the slightest doubt that Celeborn would use this knowledge to his advantage.
"You should have seen how he looked at me!" Feronil was red with anger. "He undressed me with his looks! It was disgusting! Who does he think I am?"
Elrond sighed.
"Unfortunately, Celeborn has always had a weak spot for beauty. And you are beautiful, Feronil. Picking a rose and placing it in a vase on his night table or placing a beautiful Elf in his bed makes no difference to him. That the rose and the Elf will wither away after a while is nothing he considers. Once it happens, he will regret it, but all remorse will dissipate as soon as the next beauty catches his eye. He does not mean you any harm, Feronil. He just wishes for company and distraction."
"Then I suggest he goes to bother Lady Galadriel or buys a dog!" Feronil hissed, and closed his hands into fists. "I will neither keep him company nor - distract him!"
He covered Elrond's face with sloppy kisses.
"I certainly hope so!" Elrond said and tried to look outraged. "I have exclusive rights on your distracting skills!"
Feronil had to laugh.
"You know you have, beloved."
Elrond smiled at him dotingly.
"I have not been anywhere as happy for the last centuries as I am now with you, Feronil. I will do anything to keep you out of harm's way; you must trust me on this."
Feronil pressed a kiss on Elrond's forehead.
"I know, Elrond. I fully trust you, with my life, if I have to."
Elrond felt miserable upon looking into Feronil's trusting eyes. For the only hope he had was Erestor, and that was like relying on a paper ship while sailing down the Bruinen.
'Do not fail me, Erestor,' he thought.
* * *
"Lord Glorfindel! You here on the training grounds? What a lucky coincidence! I finally get to see the legendary Balrog-slayer in action then!"
Glorfindel gnashed his teeth. He did not like having spectators during the sword training with the guards, especially not Orophin. Looking at the handsome Elf with his silver hair, regal and noble in the uniform of the Galadhrim, Glorfindel felt very uncomfortable with his unkempt hair, and dressed in his old garments. There was not a speck of dust on Orophin's uniform, while Glorfindel was drenched in sweat and covered in grime.
"Unless you have brought a Balrog with you, I am most afraid that you will be disappointed," Glorfindel snapped.
Orophin gave him his most charming smile.
"How could I be disappointed, my lord! Why, I consider myself favoured by the Valar to meet you here. Please do not let me interrupt your training, I shall sit here, watching you and hoping to profit from your wealth of battle experience."
'Smug bastard,' Glorfindel thought, but he kept his mouth shut, shrugged and returned his attention to the guard with whom he had been sparring.
The training had continued for about ten minutes when Glorfindel got distracted by Orophin's vocal welcome for Erestor.
'Just the one I need now. How nice,' Glorfindel thought, and he felt like the hair on the nape of his neck bristled at the cheerful and cordial way Erestor returned Orophin's greeting.
"Break of five minutes," Glorfindel ordered. The guards nodded gratefully and retreated into the shadow, while Glorfindel strode across the training grounds to where Orophin were already involved in a lively conversation.
A conversation that was not immediately interrupted to welcome him when he reached the two. First Glorfindel had to witness at least another minute of laughter, lash-batting and hair flips.
'He is flirting with Orophin!' Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat. This could not be! Erestor was his, he needed him! He was important to him!
He - loved him.
The enormity of this revelation made Glorfindel sway, and he would have stumbled over one of the tree trunks that framed the training grounds if Erestor had not quickly jumped up and steadied him. Glorfindel was once again amazed at the speed and elegance of Erestor's movements, though he would have preferred if the rascal had used those skills to get away from Orophin as quickly and elegantly as possible.
"Master Erestor."
"Lord Glorfindel."
Though Orophin's facial expression of polite interest did not slip, he was actually grinning. Those two, lovers? Good grief, Celeborn was really getting old. If anything, Erestor showed Glorfindel the respect and slightly snot-nosed attitude that a young mortal woman might show her senile grandfather. Romance? The laugh!
Erestor had swallowed the bait and was now hanging on Orophin's hook, there could be no doubt. When Erestor sat down again and batted his lashes at Orophin, the advisor could not help a small, smug smile.
"It seems that Lord Glorfindel is tired from his training. Maybe we should not further tire him with our chatter, Erestor. Shall we return to the Last Homely House? You wanted to show me the most romantic spots..."
Glorfindel's head turned lobster red.
"I am not tired at all," he hissed. "I could take you out any time, Master Orophin!"
Erestor rolled his eyes, for he knew very well that this had been just the thing Orophin had been waiting for. And indeed! Orophin jumped up, all smile and cheerfulness.
"Why, how very kind of you to offer me a chance of sparring with you, Lord Glorfindel!" he said, bowing his head. "I have hoped for such an encounter, but would, of course, have never dared to ask you. Guards! Give me a sword!"
Erestor slapped his head when Orophin turned his back to him. It was clear to see how this would end. Glorfindel was a skilled, seasoned warrior and, in his younger days, he would have taken out Orophin with one hand tied to his back. But now he was tired, worn out, and suffered from his many scars. Erestor knew it, for he had kissed each and every single one of them while Glorfindel had told him the tale to go with it.
Orophin was given his training sword and, though it was a blunt blade, it swished dangerously when he made a few experimental swings.
"Show me what you can do, Balrog-slayer," Orophin smiled. "And show Erestor as well," he added in a low voice.
Glorfindel attacked Orophin fiercely, but the other had no problem avoiding the blow. Blades collided over and over again. Sweat began to penetrate the back of Orophin's jerkin, leaving dark stains.
Erestor bit his nails. He had been extra-flirty with Orophin to lure him away from Glorfindel, but of course this stubborn old battle-horse had to cross his plans. Now Orophin would embarrass him in front of all the guards.
Needless to say, Erestor could not allow this to happen, and began to search around in his pockets for Glorfindel's rescue.
Meanwhile, also Glorfindel realised that he was fighting a lost battle. His blows got weaker while Orophin, despite breathing heavily, was still strong and not tired in the least. What a humiliation! In front of his guards and, even worse, in front of Erestor! Glorfindel felt his hate forming a hard, hot ball in his stomach. It was a good thing they fought with blunt blades, or he might have been tempted to commit a kin slaying.
For a moment, Orophin's smile disappeared and he shook his head in irritation. Something had blinded him, maybe the reflection of the sun off one of the guards' weapons, and black spots appeared before his eyes. Glorfindel used this short moment of confusion to strike and hit the sword from Orophin's hand.
"Thank you for the fight," Glorfindel gasped, and added some pressure on the blade which poked into Orophin's chest.
Orophin's eyes sent daggers at Glorfindel, but he produced a charming smile with amazing speed.
"I see you are still a master of your skill," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You have certainly won this fight."
Glorfindel dropped the sword and took a deep breath.
"I have. And I am also willing and capable of winning the war, Master Orophin."
Orophin grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
"We shall see, Lord Glorfindel."
"You lost, Orophin!" Erestor crowed cheerfully and for everyone to hear, then he let the little mirror slip back in his pocket just before Orophin could see it.
* * *
TBC