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Too Much
Disclaimer: this installment is for the sole purpose of entertainment both the author and the readers.
I do not intent to make money of it, so please don't sue me.
All characters unless noted otherwise are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.
It's Tolkien's fault. Had he given us more female Elves to work on....
As it is we must deal with what we have - not that we care. :-))
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: In the wake of Elrond's council solitary Erestor finds a new love ....and an old one returns unexpectedly.
Slight SM, lots of drama and some sex. Be warned and prepared...
Author's note: this is the result of an RPG, so not solely written by me but by Lady Phoenix as well.
Archieve: as long as we know: yes.
Feedback: YESSSSSS! It keeps us going!
Pairing: Erestor/Lindir, Erestor/OMC
Next morning Elrond had summoned all of Imladris. Their diminished forces made it imparative that all remaining elves capable of handling any weapon would participate in guarding the borders.
As usual Erestor stood behind his lord, face unreadable. But he was in a truly foul mood, had told Elrond in private how much he regretted the half-elf's coming of age and into power. Three millenia ago Elrond had promised him peace, that he would never have to go to war again.
And now? Border-patrol it was. On horse on the big road. Each experienced Elf would be accompanied by a younger one. Elrond had worked out the pairs and the schedules with Glorfindel before the Balrog-slayer had left with the fellowship.
"Since you are not on speaking terms with most of the population, Erestor, you will take Lindir with you. Period. I don't have the time or the nerve to discuss that with you. Get Lindir a horse and the you leave at noon." such had been Elronds last word to him.
And now Erestor stood as if nothing had happened behind Elrond, waiting for his Lord to call him so that he could read out the pairings and assigned areas to those assembled.
"I suggest you all go and ready your weapons and bedrolls and get familiar with the maps in case you don't know exactly where your area is to be found. That would be all, thank you." Erestor bowed to the audience and then scanned the room for Lindir.
After a sleepless night of trying to discover whether he'd truly handled things properly the day before and coming to no conclusion, Lindir felt far too fragile to try and brave the duty. Indeed the could not imagine where a bard might help in defending the borders in any case. The bard was determined, however, to make Erestor's duty less of a burden if nothing else and walked tot he front of the room quickly once the others began to scatter. Catching Erestor's eye, he smiled warmly. "I feel lucky to have earned such an esteemed companion... though I fear I may be of little help to you."
"Hrmph." Erestor grunted, not even looking at Lindir "'Tis what I told my Lord already. He insists that who has travelled Middle-Earth certainly knows how to handle a weapon." only now the counselor trained his critically eyes onto the bard. "So tell me if he is right with that assumption?" If Lindir said no, he would have a reason to let the sweet musician stay at Rivendell. The idea of seeing Lindir being wounded was already maddening!
Since the Battle of the Last Alliance Erestor had not worn his battle-gear and only few elves were left who even knew that Erestor was even better at lashing out with a sword than with his tongue.
"He is not entirely mistaken," Lindir ventured with a faint sigh. Much as he liked the idea of keeping Erestor's company, he knew that it might grow easily complicated and the idea of battle... "I handle a sword passing-well, and a bow just better than that. One needs to eat, after all, even on long journeys." The younger elf offered Erestor an apologetic smile.
Erestor groaned inwardly. He _wanted_ Lindir to stay at home, to be safe, but the minstrel had just ruined his last hope of doing so. "So that is well then." he gritted his teeth.
"I promise that I will try to earn my keep, at least." He looked toward the stables where the others were wandering. "I have no mount of my own, however. Perhaps you might acquaint me with one of the gentler horses?"
"I will. We shall find you a horse as soon as you are dressed. I will gather you in half an hour, until then you should be ready.
~~~
Erestor escaped his rooms as a completely different elf: still clad in black, but in leggins and a tunic. Leather shoulder- and wirstguards, an elaborate harness made of shingled leather-pieces that allowed the owner to move unhindered, leather-chaps on his legs and a sword girded at his side. All items were used but well-kept. Long white elven knives stuck in halters on his back and his long mane was braided in one thick pony-tail. His jaw was set determinedly: he would kill whatever dark creature would dare to cross his path!
Erestor did not notice how wearing his old battle-gear put him back into a long-forgotten warrior-mode. In his had he carried his mithril-chainmail-armor that he handed Lindir. In his slow gait he wandered to Lindir's room where he held out the chainmail-armor.
"I want you to wear this. 'Twill not hinder you, for ist leight weight."
"Aye..." Lindir had been caught staring, taking in the rather imposing sight of Erestor in his armor. He set his pack down and drew on the light mail shirt. Indeed its weight was next to nothing, but he could feel the strength of the links stretching across his chest. That taken care of, he followed Erestor out to the stables and found a mount suited to his needs, swift and strong but still gentle. He mounted the tawny creature with a smile and looked to his companion. "I shall look to you to lead us to our assigned post, my friend."
"Aye. Now, where is he? Gil!" Erestor let out a shap whistle.
Moments later a gelding, black as the night with a tiny star on the broad forehead came trotting by. It greeted its master with a low whinny before it stopped and ever so lightly nuzzled Erestor. Large black eyes looked gently at the elves.
"Hello beautiful." Erestor's voice took on a much softer tone as he spoke to the unbridled horse. Since Erestor was in no shape to cover larger distances at Imladris, Gil was allowed to stroll around freely all the time so that he was always in reach whenever Erestor should be in need of him.
Grabbing a handful of the thick, long mane Erestor swung himself onto the bare horseback. Immediately the Counselor's stance changed completely. Gone was the stiffly shuffling elf as he virtually became one with the animal.
Erestor glanced back at Lindir who looked so brilliant in the broad daylight. Only the armor looked alien on the willowy elf and that was slolely because Erestor knew that Lindir was no warrior.
Then they set out for the Great Road.
"We will meet Men out there. Have you been among them? Do you know their customs?" he asked his brother in arms.
Lindir shook his head. "Save encounters with a few rangers throughout my travels, I have not found myself among men," he admitted. //For all your travels, you still know little of your world.// The bard looked to his friend-turned-companion. "Is there anything in particular that I should be aware of?"
"Well, they often are ill-tempered and impatient. Their decisions seem... immature at times. I suppose that is due to their short lifespan. Nowadays they are already beyond the zenith of their life when our children would only reach majority." Erestor shrugged. "One should be very careful around them. Think of this Gondorian brute at the council, this...Boromir."
Lindir nodded solemnly, taking the words to heart. He trusted Erestor implicitly, and certainly the elder elf had the experience to back up his words. "For the sake of the Fellowship, I hope that he is a kinder man than he seems." Though none had been privy to the meeting, somehow rumors managed to spread none-the-less of each faction's response to the threat of the ring, and the man of Gondor indeed seemed a threat. //To want to keep such a thing of evil!//
The crossed the Bruinen and headed for the Bridge while Erestor kept glancing at Lindir, frantically searching for a safe subject of conversation. He found none. Only his concern for the intactness gnawed at him. He should have denied Elrond this! He pulled his fingerless leather-gloves out of his belt and handed them to Lindir "Here. You shouldn't ruin your hands while out on the road." //they are certainly very soft and sensitive. Oh by the Valar! how would they feel on my...// Erestor blushed with the thought and quickly averted his gaze.
Lindir smiled and pulled on the gloves. "Thank you, my friend. I fear I should have thought of it myself." //Ah, but again you forged forward unprepared. When will you learn to show some sense?// The leather was supple but strong, and Lindir smiled as he stretched his hands within the new confines. He wondered further how many times they had been on Erestor's hands, if it was the closest he might come to holding the elf's hand in his...
"How should you have known? You are young enough to never have been in a real war." Erestor smiled indulgently. "I have once been in a hundred-strong unit that shared camp with Men." he reminisced, not listening to the voice in his head. "They have funny customs:" Erestor couldn't help but laugh "They feel ashamed about their bodies, so each and everybody hides when naked! Not that they could be called handsome, yet among their own kind..." Erestor shook his head "Then they never let their females go to war. BUT: now comes the best: although they bed each other and everybody seems to know that they do, they fiercely deny it and feel offended when you address it. There had been a near-war in the camp because we - of course! - think completely different. I don't like them!" oh sweet Elbereth! What had he been thinking to bring up such a matter? //who called you cunning? One can hardly behave more foolishly!// he quickly added "Besides: most of them stink and near to none speaks Sindarin." ah, what a pathetic attempt to divert the subject. Erestor cringed inwardly.
Before Lindir could formulate a reply, the quiet hiss of an arrow's flight pierced the relative silence of the surrounding woods. The projectile slammed into the young elf's shoulder, vibrating as it was stopped from going all the way through by Lindir's shoulder blade.
A man--or what appeared to be a man--dressed in odd green silk and wearing spectacles moved to stand in the middle of the road, his dark ponytail blowing in the wind. He held a bow in his left hand. "It's unusual that you should mention barbarians... I rather apologize for such brutal methods, but I have little choice. I can assure you, though, that it is nothing personal; I hold your kind in the highest regard," he said, voice calm and quiet. He didn't appear to be concerned about retaliation.
"Lindir!" shocked with the sudden assault Erestor let out a cry. They had been attacked almost on home-soil!
The smaller elf crumpled forward along his horse's neck. Lindir had never really been wounded, never seen battle or danger, and the pain throbbed through his body. He wondered if it always hurt so much to be shot. The throbbing seemed to ooze down through his veins, trailing through him as if darkness itself were taking root in his body. Suddenly chilled, Lindir shivered against the horse and clung to his mount with the arm not currently dead to anything but pain.
Erestor charged, sword drawn within an instance, moving his horse between the stranger and Lindir. "Son of an orc! You will not take it personal if my sword holds you high in return!"
The attacker seemed to almost vaporize from the path of Erestor's sword, he dodged so quickly. "Such temper. I thought elves were more civilized than this," he said, smiling faintly. Sensing that his spell had set in, Long bowed towards the older elf as Erestor's horse wheeled about for another charge. "I have overstayed my welcome, I see. I will leave you be for now." With that, Long leapt back up the embankment from which he'd came and disappeared into the thick forest.
Erestor frantically scanned his surroundings, trying to find the foe that had been right in front only a moment before.
Lindir stirred against the horse and groaned. He realized a moment later the thought which had been nagging at him. Even the mithril had done nothing to turn aside the arrow. It had pierced easily through the metal and slid into flesh. "E-erestor," he moaned, feeling rather pathetic but barely able to move under the weight of the pain.
Lindir's weak call shifted Erestor's focus completely. "Lindir,hang on!" he moved Gil alongside Lindir's horse and slid over onto the other. He cradled the wounded minstrel in his arms and directed the horse into the undergrowth. His gelding would follow like a pup, of that he was certain.
Looking for the arrow Erestor gasped: it had penetrated the mithril as if it had not been there! His worst fears seemed verified: there was magick at work! //this is bad. get the arrow out! what if it's poisoned?//
"I'm sorry, meldir, but I have to..." tightening his hold with one arm, Erestor yanked the arrow out with one quick move.
Lindir screamed raggedly, body arching and then falling limp in Erestor's arms. He continued to whimper softly.
The scream cut right through Erestor's heart. He hated himself for causing the young one more pain, even if it was absoulutely necessary.
He held Lindir safely in his arms for another moment, then carefully dismounted, pulling Lindir along. The adrenaline drowned out any pain that might have come from his feet.
Tremors shook him as more blood soaked his tunic and stained the shining, torn metal. "It hurts... burns..." The bard turned his head against Erestor's armor as if to hide from the pain coursing through his body.
"I know, pen-neth." he whispered, carefully lowering the wounded elf to the ground. he stripped off the armor and undid the blood-soaked tunic to reveal a creamy shoulder that let the blood stand out starkly. Since all lose ends of his own clothes were hidden beneath parts of armor, he cut off a part of Lindir's tunic, formed a ball and pressed it onto the wound. "Hold this in place!"
Even hurt and confused, Erestor's orders held weight, and Lindir pressed the fabric down as hard as possible.
Erestor unfurled his bedroll with shaking fingers. in a small bag he found what he was looking for: dried herbs.
"Chew on these, meldir. The pain will lessen soon." he fed Lindir two dried leaves that would indeed drown out the pain. Inebriation was a side-effect, but considering the situation, that was a small problem. //he should never have come here! He is so young, so innocent! He sholdn't have come to know the ugly faces of battling.//
"I'm sorry, my friend." Erestor held Lindir close, still scared that he might not be able to still the bleeding or to be ambushed once again. He gently stroked Lindir's hair. "I'll be holding you, don't worry."
The younger elf chewed dilligently on the bitter leaves. Even after he spat them out, the juices gone, an oddly minty flavor lingered on his tongue. The pain dulled, Lindir felt a strangely floaty feeling settle over him. A soft smile found his lips. "Feels better." He blinked blearily up at Erestor and slowly became aware of the gentle stroking. "Don't stop," he requested without the faintest hint of shame. "Don't stop touching me..."
A deep flush crept across Erestor's face. Yet, he held Lindir like he was a precious treasure. "I won't, meldir." he whispered, pressing a tender kiss onto the elf's forehead. //he won't remember anything anyway.//
He needed to bandage that wound and take Lindir back home! The arrow was unsettling Erestor. He peeled off his armor without letting Lindir go - which was quite a task! - and cut his tunic into stripes, fixating the makeshift tampon on the wound. "There." he whispered. "Almost as good as new, Lindir."
"Mmm... I... we should be back... in bed..." Lindir sounded sleepy, drugged, and his eyes fluttered briefly closed. "Oh... can... can you take me?" He looked up at Erestor as if only dimly recognizing the elder elf. Had he been more clear-thinking, he might have realized that he needed to be home so that Elrond might see to the strange wound. As it was, the dark spires moving out from the wound in his shoulder didn't bother him in the least. He simply wanted the soft embrace of the mattress to enhance the warmth of Erestor's arms around his body.
Although he knew that Lindir was inebriated the words echoed in his mind with the sweetest tempting tones. //he means bed, not me to take him. why would he want that?// yet those lips! How he desired to kiss them, nay: to feast on them, lick and suck... //stop you fool! He need medicine and the healers, not an old elf lusting for him. you should be beyond such needs by now!//
"Sush, meldir. You are out of your mind." he cooed softly. Ever so gently did Erestor lay Lindir on the forest ground.
"No," Lindir moaned as the other man drew away. Even a moment apart felt like forever, and he shivered rather pitifully as the cold settled in once more. Only the warmth of Erestor's body seemed to combat it.
He was loathe to ride back to Imladris with his torso bared to shocked staring eyes and so he put his armor on his naked skin.
"Gil, down!" the gelding cowered aside his master and Erestor pulled Lindir onto the horse, then sat behind. One arm wrapped tightly around Lindir's slender frame, the other hand grabbing the mane the ancient elf commanded the horse to stand.
On their way to Imladris Erestor kept gently caressing Lindir, his lips again and again kissed the sweet smelling hair, he even sung to the young one despite his truly terrible singing-voice. He would do anything to keep Lindir sane and safe!
Lindir murmured his approval of the touches, the sound of Erestor's deeper voice in his ear. "Melane, Erestor," he whispered, head lolling back against the elf's shoulder as they rode.
"Be still, meldir." Ah, if those words were truly meant for him! But Erestor knew they were nothing but the result of drugs and shock. Erestor wished he were already back at Imladris for he did not know how long he could withstand those seductive words and sounds. He was certainly an elf of honor but even he was only made of flesh and blood!
With Erestor's strong arms around his body the darkness seemed further away, the pain indeed further from his mind. As he looked around, Lindir realized dimly that they were again surrounded by Elrond's courtyard. "To bed, then..." He smiled and then closed his eyes, drifting into a light sleep.
TBC...
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