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 7/8
In which Galadriel is entering the stage.
There was only so much banner-sewing one could take. When the discussion on the subject of cross-stitching became once again rather heated, Galadriel excused herself and escaped Arwen's sewing circle. She would have much preferred to see Elrond's guards spar in the training grounds, or gone hunting with her grandsons. Alas, everybody was busy, and she found herself seated on a nicely carved bench, reading a book that did not interest her.
The negotiations had gone well so far, at least for Celeborn. She knew the value of Mithril, and it was nice to have it, but there were more important things to life. Somehow Celeborn had lost his spirit over the years, unlike Elrond's new advisor. And such a charming and handsome Elf he was! It was obvious that the rumours of his former life as a thief had been greatly exaggerated, if not even completely made up. Such an innocent face – how could Erestor possibly ever have caused trouble?
Galadriel was distracted in her musings over Erestor's noble mindedness by a heart-breaking sigh. 'Someone must be in distress,' she thought, but though she looked around, nobody could be seen, so she returned her attention to her book.
A few moments later, she was interrupted again, this time by a stifled sob.
"Whoever you are, come out and show yourself," she said kindly. "I do not mean you any harm."
After a moment, the privet bush behind her trembled and Erestor emerged. The eyes of the young Elf were red and puffy; quite obviously, he had been crying.
"I am so sorry, my lady, I had no intention of disturbing you. Please forgive me, I shall leave immediately," he pleaded, looking utterly miserable.
Galadriel patted the empty space beside her on the bench, and smiled at Erestor.
"Come, sit by me and tell me of your problem. I have lived for many ages, even if one could not tell from my youthful looks, and I am confident that I can help you with wise counsel."
Erestor sat shyly on the bench, as far away from Galadriel as possible.
"Now tell me, Erestor, what has happened? Have you been treated unjustly? Has my husband been unkind?"
"He broke my heart! This miserable son of a four pawed female animal! Broke it and tore it out and danced a jig on it!"
"My husband?" Galadriel cried, but Erestor shook his head, so she passed him her handkerchief.
"Pray tell, who was the thoughtless Elf who has led you on in such away?"
Erestor blushed, looking very young and helpless.
"O-o-orophin," he whispered.
"Orophin?"
Of course Orophin. She could have thought of this herself. Had there ever been a case of heartache he had not been involved? The Valar knew why Celeborn insisted on keeping that rascal in Lothlórien.
"Tell me what he did, Erestor, and I shall see to it that he will be punished!"
Erestor shook his head.
"Oh no, my dear lady, I do not wish to see him punished. It was entirely my fault, you see. Everybody had warned me, I just thought I knew better and did not listen. No, I do not want him to be punished; I care too much for him. I could not bear to see him suffer."
By now, Galadriel's compassion was in competition with her curiosity.
"Has he cheated on you? Lied? Tell me all there is to know, Erestor. As he is one of my people, I am at my rights to know what he is up to."
Erestor gave her a grateful look, accompanied by a shy smile.
"You are too kind, my lady, but I really do not think I could ever tell you what really happened..."
He broke off. Tears hung in the long dark lashes, and Galadriel was filled with a holy rage against Orophin, this ruthless philanderer, who had broken the heart of this innocent young Elf.
"Enough with the riddles. Out with it!"
Erestor the handkerchief in his hands nervously, and gave Galadriel a scared look. He considered his words, then he nodded.
"You see, my lady, I just learned that Orophin...."
* * *
Glorfindel bit his lip and cursed. What in the Valar's name was Erestor discussing with Galadriel, of all the Elves? And why was he crying? He had never seen the usually so happy Elf crying. Had anybody hurt him?
Of course someone had hurt him. And Glorfindel knew very well who that someone was. Oh, if he only had the ability to kick himself! There he was, poor Erestor, crying his eyes out, and all because Glorfindel had not found the courage to be honest with him!
"Are you hunting for snails, Glorfindel, or are you picking daisies?"
Glorfindel jumped and almost fell over Elrond, who had sneaked up on him. When Elrond detected the object of Glorfindel's attention, he smiled.
"Ah, I see. You are still trying to catch your thief."
"He is crying," Glorfindel stated the obvious. He also looked very guilty.
"Has anything come to pass that I should know of, Glorfindel? I noticed that you two are not talking with each other anymore. Was there a disagreement? Is there anything I could do to help?"
Glorfindel gazed sadly and longingly at Erestor. The sight of the crying Elf broke his heart.
"I caught my thief, but I was too much of a fool to keep him. Now somebody else is holding his heart, and I cannot blame anybody else but myself for it."
How much Erestor's presence had changed Glorfindel, Elrond thought. The warrior had only truly returned from the Halls of Waiting when he had brought Erestor to Imladris. And now Glorfindel prepared for endless years of loneliness. The horror of this prospect reflected on his face.
Seeing his friend in such pain distressed Elrond greatly, and he became angry. One did not need a palantír to know what had happened. Orophin had very likely found another trophy for his collection.
"I can only guess what has happened, Glorfindel, but this I know: Erestor might not be faithful, but he would never betray you," Elrond said, looking warmly at his friend.
Glorfindel did not answer. He just stared at Erestor, who was just wiping his nose on the sleeve of Lady Galadriel's robe.
* * *
Celeborn winked at his face in the mirror. What a day! He had to give Erestor credit for his strategy, and for one so young, he was certainly cunning. In a couple of centuries, he would be a power to reckon with in Imladris. Alas, this time, Erestor and Elrond had lost, had to leave the council with their tails between their legs, and it had taken all of Celeborn's self-restraint not to grin smugly.
It was not that he disliked Elrond. He was just an Elf who appreciated the value of beautiful things, be it Mithril, gems or Elves. Ah, Feronil – this victory was almost sweeter than deciding the negotiations for himself! How shy he had been, and how sweet! And how naughty! Who would have thought that this pretty flower had thorns?
Celeborn hummed a sweet tune. "At midnight, at the pavilion," Feronil had said, and the memory of his voice's husky tone made Celeborn's skin tingle. The pavilion had once been the guesthouse for visitors of great honour. After little Legolas had set the carpet on fire while visiting with his father, it was rarely used anymore, though. A romantic place, the distance to the Last Homely House great enough to guarantee discretion and solitude. The old-fashioned bed with the intricately carved headboard added to its special charm – and in that bed, victory would be his this night!
Celeborn switched from humming to singing, and headed for the bathing chamber to prepare for his tryst with fair young Feronil.
* * *
Orophin's thoughts were of a similar nature to his lord's. How well the negotiations had gone! Tomorrow, the contracts would be signed, and Elrond had better not look as disappointed as today. Had they not left him 25% of the Mithril? This was far more than what was legally his. And ah, had it been a pleasure seeing Erestor fighting with teeth and claws! Orophin had not expected anything less from him, signed agreement or not. What spirit!
And tonight, Erestor would be his. His, his, his alone. Take that and choke on it, Glorfindel. Orophin had greatly enjoyed seeing Glorfindel's discomfort during today's meeting. He did not wish the warrior any harm, but Orophin was not used to losing. He was a hunter, a warrior, and by now, he was in a state of excited expectation. Erestor would be his – he would not have been a suitable mate for Glorfindel, anyway. The old warrior should seek a nice, matronly Elven lady who would mend his socks and rub his sore back with a healing ointment in cold winter nights.
Erestor was a free spirit, and should not be kept locked up here in Imladris, where nothing ever happened or changed. Orophin would teach him all an advisor had to know. Plus a couple of things an advisor did not need to know but which Orophin found very pleasant between the bed sheets. He could hardly wait to show off Erestor in Lothlórien, knowing very well that he would be the envy and talk of the town with such an Elf by his side.
So Orophin headed for the bathing chamber too but, as Celeborn had used all the hot water, he had to take a cold shower. This, he decided, was definitely the worst possible way to prepare for a night of passion.
* * *
"What a sight," Celeborn said upon entering the pavilion. Feronil, clad only in a thin white linen shirt and a pair of loose sleeping pants, lay sprawled on the bed. His dark hair made a fascinating contrast to his fair skin, and Celeborn swallowed hard upon thinking of the pleasures he would enjoy this night.
"You are too generous," Feronil whispered. "I am nothing but a mere Elf who feels greatly honoured that you have even noticed him."
Celeborn threw his light cloak carelessly over a chair, and headed for the bed.
"How could I not notice you? I would rather say that I must have been blind during my former visits not to fall for your charms immediately!" he declared, and sat down on the foot end of the bed.
Feronil shifted slightly, allowing the shirt to slip over one shoulder.
"How could I resist such kind words," he said, fluttering his eyelashes and blushing like a maiden. "But as flattering as your words are, I would not mind if actions would follow your words. Much have I heard of your prowess, I cannot wait to find out whether the rumours are true."
Feronil sat up, and his long hair cascaded over his shoulders. Celeborn was allowed to see even more flawless skin, and what little of his blood had been left in his brain headed south in a hot rush.
Celeborn did not know, of course, that Feronil wished ten thousand unwashed Orcs on his chest, and on Erestor's too. That Celeborn fell for this travesty did not really speak for the lord's intelligence, but then again, when had the brain ever had any say in matters of lust? Feronil himself was not exactly the epitome of sensibility when lying in Elrond's arms, his vocabulary reduced to groans and grunts.
Feronil felt a little guilty, for one because he was leading Celeborn on, for another because he actually did enjoy the flattery. He only hoped that Elrond would never learn of Erestor's plan, or they would both spend the rest of their days counting Orcs in Mirkwood or stealing horses in Rohan. Why oh why had he ever listened to Erestor and agreed to this madness? He must have been insane!
Meanwhile, Celeborn had moved closer, and Feronil could feel his hot breath on his face. What was it that Erestor had said? "Close your eyes and think of Imladris."
"Are you good to your promise, my lord?" Feronil breathed into Celeborn's ear.
"I am, my handsome," Celeborn replied. "Your rules, your wishes. I am nothing but a mere servant to you this night. For all other nights, however…" He broke off and winked at Feronil.
"So here are my wishes, my lovely lord," Feronil said, and Celeborn was only too ready to comply.
***
While Orophin made his way to his tryst with Erestor, he considered the options for the night. He had not fully figured out yet what kind of lover Erestor might be. Passionate – yes. But was he more the romantic type? Or did he prefer his lover to take the lead? Was he dominant? Probably the latter – he could well imagine how Erestor had led Glorfindel around by a yoke ring. For various reasons, this picture amused Orophin greatly, and he snorted.
The place was dark, not a single candle had been lit. Good – Erestor was careful, also, in matters of the heart. It was one thing for Glorfindel to know that he had lost the war, but Orophin did not want him to lose face in front of all of Imladris.
At least not yet.
Orophin opened the door, and looked around, making sure that he was not watched. Then he slipped inside the room and, indeed, there was Erestor, waiting for him. The night sky was covered by dark clouds, announcing rain for the next day, and there was not much Orophin could see, but the agitated breathing of his partner told him all there was to know. He slipped out of his clothes as quickly as he could, then threw himself on the bed, covering Erestor's light body with his own.
"Now you are mine, my beautiful," he cried triumphantly.
* * *
There are moments in an Elf's life that he will never forget. The first time he fought an Orc, for example. The first time he rode a horse.
And not to forget the first time he finds himself naked on top of his lord while noticing at the same time that said lord's wife is standing in the doorway.
"I cannot wait for your explanation of this situation," Galadriel said, and her voice was probably heard in all of Imladris and beyond.
Orophin jumped off the bed and covered his nakedness with the bedcover. This was unfortunate for Celeborn, who had nothing to cover himself with, but as he was bound to the headboard with two pieces of silk, he would not have been able to move, anyway.
"My lady, I can explain this," Orophin hastened to say. "It is not at all what it looks like."
Galadriel, her face lobster-red, stood there akimbo, clearly not amused.
"Orophin, I do not wish to hear another word from you. You are naked. My husband is naked. Do you think me a fool? This is an outrage! How long has this been going on behind my back? Not that it comes as a total surprise, of course – I had suspected that you advised my husband on more than contracts and agreements for a good while. But this is just… I have no words!"
By now Celeborn had recovered from his shock enough to enter the discussion.
"Galadriel… petal… please believe me, I never ever thought of… I mean, it is Orophin, for the Valar's sake!"
Orophin, still clutching the bedcover, spun around.
"Now what does that mean? I dare say nobody would have to be ashamed of being in my grace! What am I, cooked liver?"
"Do you want an honest answer?" Celeborn spat.
"Quiet, both of you! Immediately! I am the betrayed party here! I and this poor Elf!"
The 'poor Elf' stepped out from behind Galadriel's back.
"My lady, please… do not get upset. I had so hoped that I was wrong, but alas… oh, how can I ever forgive myself for upsetting you so!"
Both Orophin and Celeborn stared open-mouthed at Erestor. After a moment of shock, Orophin roared like a wounded tiger.
"You! You... you... you sneaky weasel! My lady, this is a trap, set up by Erestor! Look at the scroll in the pocket in my cloak! He lured me here, inviting me for a romantic tryst! Read it! Then you will see that me and my lord Celeborn are nothing but innocent victims of this... this rascal!"
Erestor looked a little worried when Orophin mentioned the scroll, and Orophin almost felt on top of the situation again.
Galadriel looked at Orophin, then at her husband. Finally she nodded and reached for Orophin's cloak.
"Very well. It is nothing but fair to hear both sides. But this had better be the truth, Orophin," she replied icily, and grabbed for the scroll. She unrolled it, read it, arched her eyebrows and then looked at her advisor.
"'Meet me at midnight, my silver-haired beauty, for I long greatly for your touches. Also, please take the lead this time, I love it when you are masterful. Celeborn.''"
Galadriel tapped her foot impatiently. Orophin considered fleeing through the window. Celeborn considered this option as well, remembered that he was bound to the headboard, and instead closed his eyes, sending a prayer to the Valar, begging for a quick, hopefully painless death.
Orophin stared at Galadriel and the scroll as if he had never seen the lady of the Golden Woods before.
"How is this possible? How could this happen?" he asked. Then he looked at Erestor, who stood behind Galadriel, wiggled his fingers and grinned.
"This could happen because neither you nor my husband have any self-restraint."
Galadriel turned her back to the two naked Elves and gave Erestor a sympathetic look.
"My dear Master Erestor, you have earned my gratitude. The Valar know I had suspected that my husband had been picking flowers outside of our matrimonial garden for quite a while. Come, follow me, Master Erestor, and help me prepare for my departure."
"But Galadriel... blossom..." Celeborn groaned. "You cannot leave me here... and what about the Mithril?"
"You can stick your Mithril where the sun does not shine but the wind always blows, Celeborn!" Galadriel barked at him. "May Elrond keep it, I sure do not need it. See to it that you are ready for travel tomorrow in the early morning, both you and your - silver-haired beauty!"
With that, she rushed out of the pavilion, followed by Erestor, who at least had the good grace not to whistle.
For a moment, Orophin just stood and stared. Then he began to tremble, making sounds so odd that Celeborn feared his advisor might have a fit over this incident. When he realised that Orophin was not howling in anger but with laughter, he yelled at him.
"Stop standing there, laughing like the village fool, you oaf!" he barked. "This is your entire fault, anyway! So much for 'Erestor will eat out of my hands'! It will be a cold day in Orodruin before I ever trust you again! Now come over here and give me hand, my arms are getting tired!"
"Ahahahaha! That one has led us on fine, my lord – by the Valar, I might have met my match!" Orophin laughed.
"Good to know that you find this embarrassing, humiliating situation amusing. You are not the one who has to deal with my wife, after all! When she is angry, she has thirty fingers and four sets of teeth, and I will be the one on the receiving end of her wrath!"
Orophin looked over his shoulder. What a sight! A very angry, very naked and very handsome Celeborn, conveniently bound to the bed frame. He considered the situation for a moment, then he closed the door to the pavilion, this time turning the key, then he bestowed a predatory smile on Celeborn.
When Celeborn caught the implication of this gesture, he first arched an eyebrow in outrage and opened his mouth to protest. Then he looked Orophin up and down, liked what he saw and shrugged.
"Ah well – as we will be punished for it, anyway, we might as well do it."
"It will be my pleasure to give you a hand, my lord," Orophin replied, and bowed his head. "And I dare say, it will be your pleasure as well."
* * *
TBC