THE RASCAL
Overall rating: orange (see rating explanation)
Category: slash (two male Elves in love)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel, Erestor/Orophin
Status: finished
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 6/8
In which Feronil is willing to sacrifice his honour.
Glorfindel was furious. He was angry with Erestor, with Orophin, but most of all with himself. He looked at his face in the mirror, saw the shadows under his eyes and shook his head.
"Fool," he said. "Idiot, moron, imbecile."
He would have continued this self-chastisement had he not ran out of expletives. Erestor could have helped him out, of course, but Erestor was not here. Erestor was out doing - nothing Glorfindel wished to know.
Then again, maybe he did want to know. After banging his head three more times against the wall of his bedchamber, he left to seek out Erestor and yell at him. Or apologise. Why did this all have to be so difficult? He wanted with all his heart to tell Erestor that he loved him, and that he wanted the happy-go-lucky thief to stay with him.
And what had he done? Told Erestor that there was no commitment. Fantastic. Splendid. Just - brilliant.
Glorfindel glared at the door of Erestor's chamber with such anger that the worms in the woodwork hurried to seek shelter in the doorframe.
"Life is full of difficult decisions," Elrond often used to sigh when trying to reconcile two squabblers while holding court, and Glorfindel heartily agreed with his lord. He could open the door, find a sulking Erestor and continue their argument. Or find no Erestor at all and spend the rest of the night brooding over Erestor's whereabouts and the company he was in.
Then, of course, there was option number three, which he preferred not to consider, as it would end with either his or Orophin's early demise.
Life was indeed full of difficult decisions. Glorfindel sighed deeply, then turned on his heels and returned to his own chambers. Sometimes, he thought, it was better not to know what was behind a door.
* * *
The next day saw Orophin entering the Great Hall with a spring in his step and whistling a merry tune. He joked with the maids who served breakfast and made them blush, amused everybody present with his witty remarks, and it took all of Glorfindel's self-restraint not to dive over the table and strangle the smug bugger.
Luckily, Erestor was nowhere in sight, and Glorfindel was not sure whether this was a good sign or not. His spirits lifted slightly when he noticed that Orophin's gaze wandered through the hall, obviously searching for someone. Good, so Master Smirkophin had no idea where Erestor was, either. Maybe there was still hope.
Glorfindel returned his attention to the food on his plate, and when he imagined Orophin's head on a plate, nicely decorated with lettuce, an apple in his mouth and parsley in his ears, he ate with renewed appetite.
* * *
Erestor was too busy trying to win Feronil for his cunning plan to think of a mundane thing such as breakfast. The two young Elves sat under a tree and were involved in a heated debate.
"I will not do it!" Feronil stated firmly, and shook his head.
"Now stop being so difficult," Erestor snapped. "Close your eyes and think of Imladris!"
Feronil shivered.
"This is disgusting! I think Celeborn is revolting! How can you ask me to... expect me to... do youknowwhat!"
Erestor rolled his eyes.
"Good grief, one would think I had asked you to drag him to your bedchamber and get involved in lewd activities."
"Well, that is exactly what it sounded like to me!" Feronil snapped back.
"No, silly. I asked you to invite him for a romantic tryst. I did not ask you to tear off his clothes. All I want you to do is to bat those lovely long lashes of yours, grace him with a shy blush and lick your lips when he looks. Then you ask him to meet up with you in the pavilion tomorrow at midnight and do as I told you."
Feronil shuffled his feet.
"And I will not have to do anything indecent?" he asked, still unsure.
"I promise you that neither your honour nor your backside shall be touched," Erestor declared solemnly. "And do not forget: you can help Elrond greatly by doing this," he added perfidiously.
That was all Feronil needed to hear.
"Very well then - for Elrond, I shall do it," he declared, and took a deep breath. Then he poked Erestor with his index finger in the chest. "But this I swear: if you bring me in an embarrassing situation, or if anything should happen that could get Elrond into trouble, there will be no hole deep enough in all of Middle-earth for you to hide in from my wrath!"
Erestor threw up his arms, all righteous indignation.
"Good grief, how can you even think of me doing such a thing! I am an Elf of great honour, renowned for both my sense of justice and my honesty! This aside," he grinned, "I am far too scared by your Finger of Doom. Put it back in your pocket, before you poke an eye out."
Feronil returned the smile, but he felt decidedly uncomfortable about the whole matter. What if Celeborn would not fall for his charms? And, even worse: what if he would?
* * *
TBC