SWORDS AND PACIFIERS
This chapter has now been beta-read by the wonderful Eveiya. Thank you!
Rating: PG to PG-13, depending on the chapter (don't rise your hopes, though. I'm hopelessly vanilla.)
Category: slash, humour, AU (very!), some angsty bits as well
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Other pairings mentioned: Haldir/Rabbit, Aragorn/Arwen, Elrond/somebody (female), Elladan/somebody else (male)
Warnings: mpreg and revolting food cravings
Thanks go to: The Magic Rat, Nic, MajorClanger, Anand (official bad influence), Kharessa, Lyric, and all the gentle souls who have sent feedback for the previous stories.
CHAPTER 2
The following three days were relatively uneventful. I locked myself away and contemplated my fate, wallowed in self-pity and ate salted Warg tongues with chocolate sauce.
I had warned Elladan and Elrohir that I would cut their tongues off with a rusty dagger and pickle them with king's foil and vinegar if they should dare to tell anybody what had happened, and both swore an oath by all they held dear that their lips were sealed.
"I shall be silent as the grave", declared Elladan dramatically.
"Then your graveyard must be gossip central," Elrohir answered drily.
Ai Elbereth.
Every morning, I found a jar of pickled frog feet on the doorstep of my chamber, and I suspected Rabbit to be Ye Herald of Great Delicacies. Alas, I never saw him, for he rarely showed himself; so rarely, in fact, that in the beginning some of the guards had suspected Haldir to be hallucinating when he had talked about his mate, and only grudgingly admitted that Rabbit might exist when Bramble had been born.
For such is the nature of Elves: they love to doubt.
By the end of day 3, the carpet in my study was worn out from my restless pacing – how to break this news to Glorfindel? With Elrond gone, there was nobody here who I could ask for advice, and sending a messenger to Arwen inquiring how she had told Estel about his upcoming fatherhood wasn't an option, either. She must have found a good way, though, for Estel had thrown a party which started on Monday and ended on Saturday morning, with all of Gondor drunk as Dwarves. I know because I was there, had to fish Glorfindel out of the duck pond at 4am and drag him to our chambers, while he sang at the top of his lungs "I knew a Mirkwood Maiden".
An unforgettable event, indeed.
I even went as far as writing down a short speech, which read more like a declaration of war than an announcement of parenthood, so I finally gave up, deciding to go with the flow and handle this situation calmly and sensibly when it arose. Don't cross a bridge before it has been built, as my nana used to say.
The only problem was that I was neither calm nor sensible – I was a nervous, irrational wreck of an Elf, biting my finger nails and shredding scroll after scroll into tiny little paper snippets, which soon covered the floor around my desk.
I leant back in my seat, shook my head and looked at the mess.
"Great", I said to Glorfinkle in an attempt at dark humour, "at least we already have the confetti for the great parade!"
The crow didn't answer, but dropped something – as usual, he made his point without many words.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep, for Fin had entered our chamber and I hadn't noticed. He was hovering over me, a smile on his face.
"Look who's home, darling," he chuckled, then lifted me up and hugged me. How I had missed this feeling – how I had missed him. The realisation hit me: how much he had become an essential part of my life.
Fin kissed me wildly, then, putting me back on the floor, he asked:
"So, my dark beauty, have you been missing me?"
I managed a grin.
"Not at all."
"Ai Elbereth – what horrid fate must I face here - pray tell, the dinner is not prepared, either, and you haven't ironed my tunics?"
"Of course not."
"Then, my dear, I shall punish you with at least two hours of exquisite love making."
He hugged me again, then, throwing off his cloak, he grinned: "I tell you, Erestor, Elladan gets weirder with every year. You would not believe what kind of prank he is up to now."
I wouldn't?
"What … kind of prank?" I asked, becoming suspicious.
Fin giggled as he unbuckled his belt and removed the sword. "It was hilarious – he asked me how I felt about you being pregnant!"
At this point, Fin exploded with laughter, and I didn't interrupt him – as long as he was laughing I didn't have to answer any questions.
Fin laughed for quite a while, then he wiped the tears from his eyes, and, looking at my serious mien, asked if I didn't think this to be most amusing.
I braced myself, took a deep breath and answered:
"No, Fin, I don't."
He looked confused, but I didn't give him the chance to interrupt – this had to be done. Now.
"Elladan was telling the truth. I am indeed with child – it seems I am a distant relative of Rabbit, which makes me a strange kind of Elf and gets my lineage in a mess, and it looks like I can bear children and didn't know it, and I am sorry, I really didn’t know and what are we going to do now?
I was babbling, and I knew it. Very unworthy of a skilled advisor and diplomat, this little speech, but surely Glorfindel would understand?
The great love of my life stood there, just staring at me. No emotion showed in his features – he would have looked the same if I had told him that the laundry had been done or that the sun was shining.
"Fin, I understand that you are upset, but please …" I began, but Fin cut me off.
"This can't be, Erestor. I – I don't want this."
"You don't want this? But Fin ..." I stuttered helplessly.
"No. No, it cannot be." he murmured, more to himself than to me.
* * *
Flashback Glorfindel
"Ada, let me come with you! I am old enough! And you taught me well how to handle the sword – oh please ada!"
The young elf was excited, beaming with an enthusiasm only youth and innocence could muster, looking up at his father with pleading eyes, and Glorfindel couldn't help but smile. Ah, those eyes - they had been the reason his wife had insisted on calling their son Luinil, which was the name of a star radiating with blue light. At first Glorfindel hadn't been enthusiastic, secretly thinking this was a name more suitable for a maiden than for the heir of a warrior, but Luinil was indeed a star, the light of his life, and it was hard for him to deny his son anything, for Luinil had always been more his son than hers. This time, however, he had to be firm.
"Penneth, your mother is right – you are far too young to join us in battle. 'Tis no game, my son – we risk our lives, and I will not be able to watch your back."
The youngster pouted.
"I am past my majority already, and I can do as I please."
Glorfindel nodded, but the smile had gone.
"Yes, you are – by two months. But while I compliment you on your courage and your eagerness to fight for our kin, you still lack in wisdom. A warrior without experience does not only endanger his own life, but also the lives of those around him. This is a responsibility you should never forget. I would really rather have you back here, protecting you mother, if protection should become necessary."
Luinil didn't comment on this, but he clenched his jaw, and Glorfindel knew his son well enough to know that the last word on this matter, at least from his son's point of view, had not yet been spoken.
* * *
"Glorfindel – you cannot allow this! I will not allow this! Luinil is much too young to leave Gondolin, yet alone go to a battle like this!"
The warrior looked at his wife, seeing the fear in her eyes, and sighed. He caressed her cheek, then rested his hand on her neck.
"My love – he is past his majority. We can plead, we can cry, we can shout – but we cannot forbid him to join the army if he wants. The Valar know I would rather have him safely here with you than on this Orc-infested, Valar forsaken battleground, but unless we tie him down to a chair, I know of no means to keep this young Elfling at home."
Though he was worried, too, Glorfindel was also proud. The young one was of the right spirit, and the true son of his father
She moved out of his reach.
"You are enjoying this, are you not? You are bursting with pride, do not gainsay me, I can see it in your eyes."
Anger coloured her cheeks, and her eyes were blazing.
"But it has always been like this, has it not? The great Glorfindel and his splendid friend Ecthelion – the greatest warriors of Gondolin. Much admired and beloved.
”Your pride will be your downfall one day, Glorfindel of Gondolin, heed my words. And should this pride be the downfall of our son, I will never forgive you."
With that, she turned around, and left. Glorfindel sighed again, but deep in his heart, he was looking forward to riding into battle side by side with his son.
* * *
"Ada …?"
"I am here, my son."
Glorfindel knelt down in the mud beside the bundle of shredded cloth and torn flesh that had been his son, and cradled the young Elf to his chest.
"I am sorry, ada …"
Fin stroked the blood-matted blonde hair, gently rocking the broken and battered body, and choked back his tears.
"There is nothing you need to be sorry for, my son. You fought bravely, and took down many enemies."
Luinil smiled brightly, then he clutched his father's cloak.
"Will I see you again, ada? Will you wait for me … there?"
"I will, my son, I will."
Fin gently, reverently pressed a kiss to his son's forehead, but the young Elf had already passed away, leaving his devastated father behind.
End Flashback
* * *
"Fin?"
I was getting worried. I had expected everything, from anger to hysteria, had secretly hoped for some kind of acceptance, but not his emotionless, blank face.
"Erestor … I …" he began, now looking at me with such grief and sadness that I felt cold all of a sudden, and the need to hug and comfort him.
"Fin, what is it? I know this must come as a shock, and it is unexpected, but I am sure we can sort this out; you will be a wonderful father, and …"
"NO!" Fin shouted, cutting my words off with a sharp gesture of his hand. He stood there, absolutely terrified, raking his hair again and again with his fingers.
"I am not a wonderful father. I … you deserve so much better, Erestor. The child deserves so much better. I ... I am sorry."
With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
So he had finally left me, my beloved. I had never actually believed that Elves could really fade because of grief, but now I felt coldness in my heart, numbing my mind, I felt sadness as never before, affecting the very core of my being.
I couldn't live without Fin.
* * *
Hours had passed since Fin's unexpected departure, hours that I had spent standing on the balcony, looking out into the dark, hoping to see him. It was cold, and I was miserable, so finally, I undressed and slipped into bed – less for my own sake than for that of the child. It was odd – all these years, I had been responsible only for myself and my duties, and now there was somebody helpless, completely dependent on me. This was a frightening thought, but at the same time, it was wonderful as well – somebody needed me.
I stared out of the windows into the night sky. I needed somebody as well – Fin. My heart was heavy, and the empty space beside me did little to improve my mood. I had gotten used to Fin – had taken his love for granted instead of cherishing it as the rare, precious gift it was.
I tossed and turned, and I longed for him. Longed for his laughter, his wit, his reassuring presence, longed for his lips and fingers on my skin, longed to be one with him.
Finally, I slipped into a dreamless slumber, and only woke up when a heavy weight dipped the bed beside me.
Fin. He was back. I sat up, and looked at him.
He had cried – that much was obvious. And from the way he looked and the state of his clothes, he must have spent the last hours running through bramble bushes. He was a pitiful sight, and I would have loved nothing more than to embrace him, hold him tight and tell him that I loved him, but I knew not if I still had the right to do so.
He just sat there, staring at me. Had he returned? Or had he come to say goodbye forever?
My beloved didn't say a word, just moved closer after a while, and took me in his arms, holding me tight, stroking my hair. I felt the wetness of his tears on my face, and their saltiness on my lips. I held him as close as possible in return, taking in his scent, and I wished I was a poet, so I could tell him how I felt, and what he meant to me, but I was only an advisor, and quoting Gil Galad's comments on battle strategies would have been out of place right now.
Finally, his hold weakened, and he moved to face me.
"I am sorry, Erestor – this came so … unexpectedly."
I gave him a weak smile.
"Yes, you could say that. And …" I broke off and took his large hand, gently holding it between mine.
"And how are things between us now, Glorfindel? For this I need to know, so do not fear to answer in all honesty."
Fin stroked my cheek, pressing an almost chaste kiss on my lips, and I tasted his fear, but also his love for me. Yes, you can taste love. It's sweet as honey and bitter as gall, but at the same time, it is the most delightful taste of all.
"Things between you and me are such that you made me the happiest Elf ever to walk in Middle-earth," he answered simply.
Then I was in his arms again, my face showered with butterfly kisses, callused fingers stroking my ears and neck, and that familiar heat arose, making my skin tingle, and I longed for him like I had never longed for anyone before.
"I am yours, Erestor" he murmured, "come what may. In life or death, I am yours, soul, heart, body and sword."
"The latter is especially prominent at the moment", I whispered in his ear, giving a short lick to the delicate point.
Fin growled, and his hand wandered up my inner thigh.
"Indeed, my dear Master Erestor, and it is about time we put it back in its sheath."
"That, my dear Lord Glorfindel, is a most sensible plan."
And one we carried out without further ado and to full satisfaction of both parties involved.
* * *
Later we lay, spent, exhausted and happy, Fin holding me tight, drawing tender circles on my shoulder with his thumb.
"One day I will tell you of a wonderful, brave young Elf called Luinil, my love. You would have liked him a lot."
"Luinil?" I murmured, already half asleep.
"That would be a lovely name for our Elfling …"
And with that, I entered dreamland.
* * *
Who will advise the advisor? What is the best way to wake up your lover? Where do all the Orcses come from? Are raspberries potentially harmful for unborn Elflings? And when will we finally hear from Galadriel?
Tune in soon again for "The Young and the Orcless" … Glorfindel's favourite soap …
* * *
Author's notes:
Penneth = little one
Luinil = star radiating a blue light
Thankyouthankyouthankyou all for the feedback, I appreciate it more than words can express.
Special thanks go to my "alter ego" Untalented Elfwriter (I still think I should have kept that name), who had the idea with Glorfindel's flashback. I was a little unsure about it, but as the Magic Rat so wisely said: "As we all know, life is not all skittles and beer. And it explains beautifully why Fin seems to go from marriage to marriage, and seems to distance himself from the people who love him."