VELVET AND GOLD
Genre: LOTR, slash
Pairings: Legolas/Estorel, Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: very mild R
Warnings: a wee bit of angst
Author's notes: the first chapter was "Day 5" of the Yuletide Tales 2004 (just in case it looks familiar to you). As it happens, a plot bunny bit my leg and it ended up being a three-chapter-story. :-)
Chapter 3
"The furniture in Imladris becomes more uncomfortable and narrow every year," Gimli grumbled, lifting from the seat with many groans and complaints. "Cursed Elves, they do this just to annoy an old Dwarf."
"No doubt, old friend. I really think you should complain with Lord Elrond," Legolas agreed with a stern face. "He will very likely deny that there is a conspiracy, and apply some terribly smelly ointment to your back instead."
Gimli glared at Legolas.
"A king for only a year, and already you are sounding like your father! A good thing Thranduil and Glorfindel's lunatic brother have sailed west; otherwise I'd tell him how this poor old Dwarf here has to suffer from your impertinence!"
"You are not old, Gimli. You are in the prime of life. Why, you still danced on Elrond's table tonight when Glorfindel had crawled back to Erestor already!"
"That's true," Gimli said, and smiled smugly. "I out-danced the Balrog slayer - if that doesn't secure me a place in the history of Arda, then nothing will."
He finally had managed to get to his feet and yawned.
"Time for this young Dwarf here to go to bed. A bit of sleep wouldn't harm you either, Legolas. You have a long journey ahead of you."
The Elf shrugged.
"I just want to sit here by the fire for a while. I do not appreciate the company of so many people, and will enjoy a moment of solitude."
Gimli sighed, then put his large hand on Legolas' arm.
"My offer to come and stay with us for a while still stands, my friend. We are simple folk, but my wife can cook meals worthy of a king, even if it's you. Come and visit us, Legolas."
"I might, Gimli, I might. Thank you for your offer. Now go, your wife will probably already wander the halls of Imladris looking for you, worried that some Elf maid has worked her charms on you."
"Many have tried, but she knows I wouldn't look at any other," Gimli declared. "Good night then, we shall meet again at breakfast."
Legolas waited until Gimli had disappeared before he allowed himself a deep sigh. Twenty years ago, he had spent Yule sitting on a tree, watching the stars with Estorel, and for the first time in many years, he had felt some sort of peace. He appreciated the young one's straightforwardness, and Legolas was happy that he had found somebody who knew how to share his silence. He had often thought of the strange young Elf, and that was the main reason why he had accepted Elrond's invitation for Yule this year.
An exceptionally stupid idea.
It would have been his duty to spend the first Yule as Mirkwood's king at home, of course, but with his father and Nonfindel gone, the prospect of having to participate in the wild and loud festivities of Yule in Mirkwood was not very tempting.
Legolas stared into the fire, and waited for Estorel to turn up. Neither hair nor hide had been seen of him ever since his arrival. He had learned from a rather angry Erestor that Estorel had disappeared again, something he did quite frequently. He often hid for weeks, without leaving a note, and without anybody knowing where he was, causing his parents and his brother much sorrow.
After two hours, Legolas decided that Estorel would not come. He was probably not even in Imladris, but out there in the woods, maybe hunting with Rabbit who shared his dislike for events with more than three Elves attending.
Legolas was tired and decided to go to bed. The journey back to Mirkwood would be long and exhausting; his scars hurt from the cold and he was disappointed that he had to leave without seeing Estorel. He stood up and reached for the bottle of wine next to him when he saw something moving in the shadow.
"Is anybody there?" he asked into the darkness, but there came no answer.
"Estorel, is it you?"
There was only silence. Legolas blamed it on Elrond's sweet wine and headed for his chambers.
* * *
"You went to bed early."
Legolas startled in his bed and reached automatically for his dagger, but then he saw that it was Estorel who was standing by the fire, watching him.
"How could you get in here, past the guards?"
"Their eyes are too slow to see me," Estorel replied, as if that was the most normal thing. "Do not blame them. And why do you need guards, anyway? You are in Imladris. Nobody will cause you any harm here."
"It is one of the unpleasant necessities that come with being a king. Why are you here? First you insult me by not attending the festivities, then you enter my private chambers without being invited!"
Estorel shrugged.
"You have not told me to leave yet."
"Well, I will do so any moment!"
"No, you will not. You want to talk to me, that is why you came here and why you waited in the hall," Estorel said rather cheerfully.
"If you knew I was there, why did you not come?"
"My brother drank more wine than was good for him. He is very fair, but unfortunately a little naïve. I fear one of our guests from Lothlórien tried to seduce him; I am sure you understand I could not allow that."
"Where did you hide the body?"
Estorel chuckled.
"You sound like my father."
For some reasons, Legolas did not like the comparison with Glorfindel. He did not say anything, though, just glared at Estorel.
"So what is it like to be a king?" Estorel asked. "Has the course of your days changed much?"
"I have looked after everything long before my father left to sail west. The only thing different now is that I have constantly a bulk of Elves around me who talk too much and annoy me. So if anything has changed, then only for the worse."
"Do they still stare at you?"
"Blunt as ever. No, they do not. Not anymore. They got used to the way I look."
"And did you get used to the way you look as well?"
Legolas considered the question for a moment, then he shook his head.
"No. No, not really. I guess it is not possible to get used to it. I learned to live with it, though, what else could I do? I cannot change the way things are."
"Please show me, Legolas. I am here because I want to see."
"Want to see what? A king in sleeping pants? How exciting."
Estorel shook his head.
"Show me your scars."
"You can possibly not have come here to ask me to undress for you!"
"Yes, that is actually the reason why I am here. I want to see you, not the king of Mirkwood hiding behind seven layers of cloth."
"Estorel, being blunt is one thing, being impertinent another."
Estorel took a step forward. His long black hair fell over his shoulder, not shiny and soft like Erestor's, but wild, unkempt, only kept out of his face by thin warrior's braids.
"Show me. They say it looks terrible, that you do not even dare to look at yourself in the mirror anymore. Is it true? Can it be this bad? Show me, Legolas."
There was no mocking in his voice, just the clear, cold question of one who was curious to learn about a mystery that puzzled him. Yet it was exactly that matter-of-fact tone that made something inside Legolas snap. He threw back the cover and jumped out of the bed, crossed the room and tried to tackle Estorel.
Alas, the young Elf was too quick, and Legolas' hand only grasped thin air.
"Well, now you can look at me. Do you enjoy the view? Is your curiosity satisfied?" Legolas hissed. The two Elves were circling each other, like two wolves preparing for a fight.
"They also said you used to be a great warrior," Estorel continued, ignoring Legolas' words. "Swift and strong, that nobody could best you. Is that true? Then show me, Legolas. Come and get me."
Legolas tried another attack, but again Estorel escaped with ease.
"This was your second chance, Legolas. Only one left. If you want me, you have to catch me. And you do want me, do you not? I know you do."
Legolas closed his eyes for a moment.
His anger had fogged his mind, but he had to think logical. Estorel had the advantage of youth and health, and he was quicker than other Elves. He also knew about Legolas' weaknesses and used them to his own advantage.
But that was a game two could play.
"How can you be so sure that I want you?" Legolas said, throwing his head back. "Agreed, you are fair, but then so are others, who have better manners and know how to approach a king."
Estorel narrowed his eyes.
"I know you want me."
Legolas laughed.
"I am king now, Estorel. I can have whoever I want, so why should I choose you, of all the Elves?"
Estorel growled, and before Legolas could blink, Estorel attacked him. But this time he was prepared, kicked Estorel's legs away from under him and they both landed on the floor. With his good hand, he firmly held Estorel's hands above his head, and with his weight, he pressed him down on the floor.
Estorel struggled, but he quickly realised that there was no way he could escape. He glared at Legolas, then he gave up.
"Looks like I won," Legolas said. "And dare I say, it would have been more difficult to catch Gimli than you. There is still a lot you have to learn, young one."
Estorel nodded.
"You have bested me, and you are right. I am not the warrior yet that I would like to be. Will you let me go now?"
Legolas looked down at Estorel. They were so close, their noses almost touched.
"I will release you, but I will not let you go. You said I have to catch you if I want you, and catching you I did. You are mine."
He released Estorel's hands, but made otherwise no attempt of standing up. Estorel put his arms around him, and then Legolas could feel sharp fingernails scratching slowly, so deliciously slowly across his skin.
"So you do want me then," Estorel stated. "You fought and you won, like the warrior that you are."
Legolas could feel Estorel's hands on his back, then on his shoulders, running over the terrible marks the fire had left on his skin. The tattoos had either gone or were so badly damaged that they were nothing but black lines or dots, not recognisable anymore as the signs of honour they once had been, telling of the many battles Legolas had fought and the victories he had gained. His chest looked as if it had been stitched together from dozens of badly matched patches. Even Thranduil had turned away in shock when he had seen his child like this for the first time.
Estorel rubbed his cheek on Legolas' chest, his hands now caressing his side. He kissed the burned skin and licked along the scars, making Legolas shiver and biting his lip.
"Velvet , the gold of your hair, and your smile. Not much has changed. I have waited for you, every year."
Legolas buried his good hand in Estorel's hair - so surprisingly soft! - and kissed him. It had been so long since he had last felt a lover's touch, and he had never allowed himself to think of the love he had lost. Not only because he feared the memories, but also the pain of knowing that there would never be a lover's touch for him again. Estorel was right; he wanted him. He wanted him so much that he feared to lose his mind if he could not have him.
Estorel loved him, which was a miracle, and he loved him in return, which was even more of a surprise. How could this be?
Legolas' musings were interrupted by Estorel, who rolled him on his back and straddled him. There was a mischievous smile on his face, and Legolas could see two rows of very white, sharp teeth.
Estorel took off his shirt and threw it aside.
"You showed me," he said. "And now I show you."
Legolas gasped when he felt Estorel's body covering his, skin on skin, and cried out at the sharp pain when his lover bit his shoulder.
* * *
Glorfindel managed to hold back for half a day, which was amazing, considering the circumstances. When he was shortly before exploding with curiosity he finally caved in and tracked down Erestor, who sat over a heap of documents in his study.
"Erestor, may I have a word with you?" Glorfindel asked. Erestor looked up from the document he was reading.
"Of course," he replied absent-mindedly, "just go ahead."
"Erestor, what did Legolas tell you before they left for Mirkwood?"
Erestor made a note on the scroll, sanded it and put it aside.
"He told me that Estorel challenged him."
"Challenged?"
"Yes. And that they had a fight."
"A fight?"
"Fin, please do not repeat everything I say. A fight, indeed. "
Glorfindel stared at Erestor open-mouthed.
"He did not!"
"Oh yes, he did."
"Not Estorel!"
"Yes, Estorel."
"Did he bite him?"
"He did."
Fin sank down in one of the seats and shook his head.
"And you did not tell him?"
"Whom?"
"Legolas!"
"No, of course not."
"But Erestor - he has to know!"
Erestor bundled the documents and put them aside..
"Now Fin, do not be ridiculous. Why ruin the surprise?"
"Some surprise that will be," Glorfindel groaned.
"I guess you can say that, yes."
Erestor folded his hands on his desk and batted his lashes at Glorfindel. "Look on the bright side of it, Fin: Mirkwood is far, far away, it is highly unlikely that you and I will have to look after the Elfling very often."
"Thanks the Valar for small mercies," Glorfindel grumbled, but Erestor could not be fooled: they would have to spend a lot of time in Mirkwood in future.
Oh well, he thought. Worse things could happen.
* * *
THE END
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