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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
Warning in this chapter for violence and torture!
"I told you!" Lindir whispered urgently. He felt
something akin to fear at realizing that they might
actually have found what they sound. It seemed
terribly foolish to be traipsing about the forest
without his lover's now that they faced the unknown.
Ivor rested his hand on Lindir's shoulder, not sure if he steadied
himself or Lindir. Who or what was up there? He stared without blinking
up into the sun-dappled shadow above.
Not sure what else to do, Lindir strained to see into
the shadow and called out, "Hello? We mean you no
harm. I know you cannot understand, but... we only
wanted to find you." //And if this is just a guard on
patrol, they can take me for an idiot if they like.//
Uru was now certain they had not only discovered him, but knew that they
knew who he was. They were powerful, he knew. They had deadly weapons he
did not even understand, they commanded fire! And they made music. The
most beautiful music imaginable. And this voice he knew well from his
listening at dusk. This was the most beautiful voice, now ascending
through leaf and branch and his ears twitched.
//only two...// too curious to hold back he made it to the next tree and
there descented, always careful to keep open an escape-route. He stopped
on the lowest branch where he perched and stared at the two with slanted
eyes. They were Etya, after all. They were dangerous, powerful,
treacherous.
"Valar! What is this?" Ivor stared at the furry creature that descented
soundlessly the tree in front of them. Locking the creature's gaze he
shivered, looking into the eyes of eternity incarnate.
Lindir's eyes went wide. Rather than shrinking away
from the newcomer, he took a step closer, entranced.
The unknown that had seemed so fearful he saw now
feared them. The ancient elf's every movement, his
very stance, showed that. "We do not mean to harm
you," the bard said in a soft, lilting tone. "We did
search for you. We wished to find you, that is all."
Uru moved backwards, keeping his distance. Yet the voice did not sound
hostile at all. The words were strange to him in a double sense: it had
been countless years since anybody had spoken to him and this language
he did not understand at all. It sounded softer than their own, though.
The light that shone from the two was almost unbearable and yet
attracted him like fire did with a moth.
"I don't think he understands you." Ivor mused calmly. "If he speaks at
all. Try Quenya instead." the illusionist never let his eyes wander from
the fur-clad elf, ever ready to pull Lindir out of the creature's reach.
He could see intelligence shine from those incredibly large blue eyes
and wondered if this wild being was dangerous at all. But then: even the
cutest rabbit could bite.
Uru's mind raced, trying to understand what they spoke and at the same
time deciding if and what he should reply.
#Me'cala.# his croaking voice, unheard for ages startled Uru himself. He
did not remember it being so hoarse and rough. he stretched out an open
palm, showing his peaceful intentions, showing he held no weapon.
Lindir returned the greeting in the more common form,
smiling and holding his hands out as well. Of course
he carried no weapons. A flute he could wield well
enough, but weapons were well beyond the bard's
capabilities. He took a step closer to the strange
newcomer and then continued slowly,having Ivor translate since he believed what the strange elf uttered was a form of old-fashioned Quenya. #We were looking for you. There are stories of you where we live.#
Uru tensed up, his eyes darted back and forth between Ivor and Lindir. He could sense Ivor's tension and it made him nervous in return. But it did not seem a trap and so he jumped to the ground. The move was smooth and graceful, causing almost no sound.
Ivor held his breath. If this went wrong, if Lindir was hurt, Daer and Erestor would tear him in two! And now that the Ava stood straight Ivor could guess at the ancient one's strength. True, he was less tall. Yet every move, no matter how graceful hinted at an enormous physical strength.
"Why cometh thou hither, Etyar?" Uru slowly moved closer to Lindir, drawn by the golden light of the minstrel's hair. A scarred, calloused hand shyly touched a honey-golden tress. It felt like gossamer compared to his own thick, coarse black mane. His nostrils flared as the sweet scent of the other invaded his senses. Where he and his brothers used to smell of earth and tang, this one smelled of flowers and grass. so much sweeter yet their initial relation could not be denied.
The bard didn't so much as flinch at the touch.
Instead he continued to smile. Lindir felt a sudden
urge to rush back to the house for a basin, cloth, and
comb to make some sense of Uru's unkempt appearance.
"We had heard stories of you, that you roamed the
woods here. We thought them to be nothing more than
stories, but it seems there was more truth than we
believed." Curious himself, Lindir tilted his head to
the side. "Why do you hide from us?"
Uru stepped back slowly, thinking he was probably crowding the Etya.
Was it not obvious why he was hiding? #Thou art Etyarin. Thy brothers
were thrown into thralldom under Melkor. His thralls and servants
hunteth us. Many a brother was..... changed.# he did not understand
fully what had been done to his kin yet he knew the result: Orcs.
Uru was so immersed in this unexpected encounter, had all his senses
directed towards the two elves that he heard the sounds much too late.
He stiffened suddenly, stared wildly at the two Etyarin elves and with a
shill shriek darted away: #Yrch!#
Ivor looked around, grabbing Lindir by his sleeve "Run!"
But it was too late: already were they surrounded by a horde of orcs and
a vicious blow into his stomach let him double over.
Lindir cried out in surprise. He had no idea what to
do. Uncertain and afraid, he reached for Ivor only to
find his friend already being pulled away, one of the
powerful creatures having grabbed him about the waist.
"Ivor!" he yelled before feeling the same rough hands
on his own skin. The bard tried to wriggle away, to
flee the attack, but it was to no avail.
Lindir's cry spurned Ivor's ferve but as soon as he managed to unfold
his slim body another blow hit his head and the world faded into
nothingness.
Annoyed with the elf's struggles, one of the orc's
backhanded Lindir roughly and grunted with pleasure as
he fell to the ground. #Fragile creatures,# he
commented to his nearest companion before hefting the
slight bulk of the bard over his shoulder.
Uru was angry with himself. How could he trust some Etyar? What madness
had ridden him? They had - once again - tried to capture him.
But as he fled the Ava soon realized there were no sounds of pursuers
behind him. Instead he heard elven voices crying out in fear.
So he stopped, listened and then turned towards the trampling of many
feet instead. He watched from a cliff as the two Etyar were carried away
by a host of orcs.
Silently Uru followed them northward.
When Lindir's eyes finally opened once more, he saw
the ground speeding by beneath his feet. His head
throbbed, and he felt sharp leather and metal prodding
at his body. //Armor,// he realized dimly, adding,
//Orc armor,// whe he remembered what had happened.
Indeed when Lindir painfully raised his head a bit to
look around, he saw a group of orcs hurdling them
through the forest and away from home. //No... not
now! 'Restor!// The bard kept silent despite his
desire to scream for help. //He cannot come here, not
now. There's nothing he can do...//
When they finally halted it was at an existing camp-site far north. Two
or three cooking-fires were being entertained in the dark of the night
and there was much howling and screaming when they arrived with new prey.
#Now the other will certainly talk. Or this one. They are so whimsical,
can't watch others suffer. Take him!# Lindir was thrown into the arms of
another orc who then - with the help of some others tied him
spread-eagle between two trees, facing another elf.
That one wore black tunic and leggings and his black-blue mane hung in
disarray around his drooping head. He hardly moved an eyelid to examine
the newest commotion: they had hurt him for hours to find out what he
knew about Imladris - which was of course nothing! He had never and
would not ever set a foot onto her grounds.
A Southerling appeared, pured cold, murky water over the black elf and
grabbed his hair, forcing the elf being questioned to look at his new
'neighbor'. A face swollen and distorted with bruises and scabbed cuts
showed. Black eyes filled with cold hate reflected the fires, casting a
rather uncaring glance at the young blond elf. A nod from the
southerling and an Orc started to hurt Lindir.
"Now finally tell us about their defenses!" the Southerling inquired.
Lindir felt sick. //How could they have found him?//
His throbbing head and bruises and cuts meant nothing,
not when Erestor was so badly wounded. Not when he was
being made to suffer torture once more. "Stop!" he
cried out as another blade bit into his skin. It tore
across the healing wound on his shoulder, and Lindir
sobbed. "Stop... please... I know only that there are
guards! Please! I am no soldier!" His wild gaze swept
away from the elf he believed to be his husband,
desperately searching for Daerdion's familiar form.
//He must be here as well. If he had fallen, I would
know...// Seeing nothing, he looked to Ivor and saw
his companion relatively unharmed though obviously
dazed.
...
Ivor only slowly came to. He was in a miserable state - filthy and sick.
He had no idea where they had been taken to, but it had to be
underground: it was pitch-black, the elf couldn't see anything. It never
occurred to him that the hit on his head had robbed him of his vision.
High up in the trees sat a fur-clad figure, watching with horror. He had
no idea how to help those. He was alone, had no arms that could compete
with any of the orcs' weaponry. If he wanted to help the captives, he
had to face the Etyar who lived in the vale. Uru shivered. He couldn't
tell whom he feared more: the orcs or their allies, those Etyarin elves.
Mind made up, Uru hurried back in a straight line, silent as a
whispering breeze.
...
The dark elf watched listlessly. With every bone broken, he merely hung
in the ropes by the strength of his muscles, numbed by pain. But when
an orc kicked viciously into his broken back he screamed. His voice was
eerily hoarse from countless hours of screaming already. For a second
reason and clarity returned on the wake of the pain. "Leave him be -
that is no soldier." he whispered. Soldiers he knew and this one
certainly was not. No soldier would whine after a few cuts and bruises.
"Ah, you still can talk. Well, we will continue later then." a sharp
word and both elves were untied and unceremoniously dropped in the small
corral that held Ivor already.
Torang's shattered form slumped shapelessly onto the ground with a
pained groan.
At once Lindir hurried to the side of the other elf,
his heart pounding. "'Restor," he whispered. When he
was closer at last and brushed a bit of dark hair away
from the elf's face, he saw that it was not so. //But
so like...// Terrified for the safety of the other
despite his relief at the revellation, Lindir
whispered, "Someone will come. They will be searching.
It cannot be long. We can't have gone far from
Elrond's borders." //And he will likely not survive
the trip. Perhaps not even the night...//
+++++
"You are not of his ilk, then? Not his ally?" Daerdion
asked, surprised by the statement. He'd assumed,
naturally enough, that the strange man was some
servant of the Dark Lord, some puppet of his. //If his
only true agenda is destruction, then he may be even
more dangerous than we believed.// "And why attack
innocents? What is to be gained by it?"
Long smirked faintly. "Make no mistake, my Elven
friend. I *am* doing Sauron's bidding... but only so
long as it suits me," he clarified, looking smug. "And
the attack on an 'innocent' was to serve as a
disruption, a distraction. It has done its purpose,
and quite well. I have taken two powerful allies from
your cause and placed them at the whim of a deadly,
rotting malady."
Erestor's fist closed hard around the hilt of his sword. He truly wanted
to charge and kill this fiend! It was only millennia of trained
self-restraint that kept him from attacking. Long's smug attitude
angered him so much that the hint at Lindir being a 'powerful ally' was
completely lost on the Counselor.
This son-of-an-orc had attacked his beloved deliberately and there was
nothing to spurn Erestor's fury more than such a deed.
His gaze drifted to Daerdion. "Though
I must admit that *your* involvement was not expected,
Daerdion. It is decidedly a fortunate turn of events
for me."
//how does he happen to know Daer's name? and why would Daer's presence
help this one?// Erestor's hair stood on end as his mind raced in vain
to solve riddles he had no clue about.
The strange being took a few steps back, his form
suddenly seeming to blur and shift about the edges,
blending into the surrounding forest. "We will meet
again, do not worry. Though you had best watch your
back... There are dangers about that are far more
direct a threat than I," Long said. With that, he
turned from the pair, seeming to step into a sort of
fold in the forest and disappear. Only a swirl of wind
remained, and it stirred the leaves on the forest
floor into a small vortex that soon dispersed.
It took no more than a flicker of his mind turned into the slightest
shift of his weight to have Gil charge forward and in-between the first
trees only to see - nothing.
He turned and looked at Daer with a helpless gesture.
"He... Who is the second?" Daerdion wondered, shaken.
One of the Fellowship. It had to be. The fiend had not
only violated their beloved but had injured another.
"Ai, and what has he done to them? Does he feed from
them himself, or is it Sauron who steals the light
from his victims?"
Erestor stared dumbfoundedly at Daer. //who was the second? How does he
think Lindir is the first? Why?//
"They are out of our reach by now. They must deal with it themselves,
I'm afraid." Gild slowly trotted back to where Daer stood. "How is your
appearance fortunate for this evildoer? And why would he think a mere
minstrel to be a powerful ally?" Erestor shook his head. Lindir was a
bard, Erestor's love and devotion left aside, Lindir could hardly be
seen as of any value in this ongoing war. Who was the other? Gandalf?
"By Elbereth, what if he attacked Mithrandir?" Erestor couldn't think
straight - the possibilities were too many. "I must think..." he closed
his eyes briefly to focus.
"We cannot think of that. Surely, Mithrandir is safe,"
Daerdion responded, though his mouth went dry at the
thought. "If this creature does work to his own
purpose and not for Sauron's as he claims, then...
then perhaps he does take the light into himself, the
energy... But still why think Lindir such an ally? A
link to us, yes, if he wishes to draw from someone of
strength, but Lindir...? I do not understand this.
Perhaps we should return, though, see that he is
well."
"Aye..." then Erestor shook his head. "Nay. He could have shot me directly. He could not have foreseen our bonding. For some reason this foe deliberately targeted Lindir." he said as he stared into void, trying to make sense of what he'd heard.
"You are right, though: let us not tarry here where we cannot learn any more. Lindir needs closer protection and mayhap Elrond knows more. And he may farspeak with one of the Fellowship." his own farspeaking-abilities had never been too strong and even those had been damaged during Sauron's ravage of his mind. He could still farspeak if need was dire but it threatened to throw him back into the abysmal blackness of insanity as it had done already once.
"Why is your unexpected arrival so fortunate for him, beloved? you are so powerful, strong of will and body - he should dread you instead." Erestor eyed Daer with newborn curiosity.
Daerdion wished desperately that he possessed a keener
mind, one suited to spending hours on understanding
the motives of others. Frustrated, he shook his head.
"I do not know. I have done nothing to make anyone
think that I would be a help to any servant of the
dark lord. Why he should think that I would be..." The
warrior moved back to his own horse. "Come. I do not
like these new tidings." He had been uneasy from the
first at leaving their husband alone, and after Long's
speech, he felt even more of the gnawing worry.
"'Twas not what I meant. Doubtlessly you did nothing to help Sauron." it
was beyond doubt for Erestor that Daer's standing was immaculate. "Yet,
maybe something did happen to you? Anything strange, anything?" they put
their horses into motion. Erestor was rather clueless himself concerning
the foe's words.
Daerdion thought, but then shook his head. "Nay. There
is nothing." //If I knew myself, 't'would make things
far simpler. If I had an answer...// But nothing that
Daerdion had experienced before finding his husband
again even began to account for what Long had said. "I
am sorry. There is nothing. I only wish that the fiend
had said... Ah, but perhaps it was only meant to make
us question one another. But why should he even know
of me?"
"If that was his intent, he certainly knows nothing about us. You are
well beyond doubt, husband-mine." he directed his horse closer to Daer's
and reached out for his husband's hand. They could not be divided by
such petty attempts. Whoever knew them from the old times would know as
much.
He squeezed Daer's hand and accounted the brief fluttering in his
stomach to his happiness being with Daer.
Daerdion smiled in return, but it faded a bit as some
troubling nagging began at the back of his mind.
"Something is not right..." Long before the warrior
had learned that rarely were his instincts and
feelings wrong. "'Restor, we must hurry." Without
warning to his husband, Daerdion dropped Erestor's
hand and spurred his horse faster toward the gates of
Imladris. They thundered down the path until finally
Daerdion pulled the beast to a stop in front of
Elrond's home.
He passed the reigns to a courier and leapt down,
rushing up the steps and toward the rooms they now
shared only to find them empty. //But... there is no
harm in his being gone. Ivor is gone as well. They
would be together, of course, but...//
Erestor followed as fast as he could, which wasn't much. He cursed
Sauron for the ten-millionth time as he limped gracelessly through the
halls where he found Daer already returning. "What is it?" a cold fear
took hold of him as he stared into his husband's face.
"I... I do not know. A fear growing within me..." The
elf shook his head. "Lindir is not home, nor Ivor.
They may be out of doors, but... Do you not feel
anything amiss, husband?" Daerdion inquired. //Perhaps
I do fear nothing. Perhaps it is all worry growing in
my mind with no real form.//
"I... I have not... my mind was too busy solving the riddle. I did not
listen inside." Erestor focused now and his eyes widened, realizing the
fluttering of his stomach was indeed the fluttering of a growing unease
and worry. "You are correct: something is terribly amiss. Where is Lindir?" he caught a servant by the sleeve but it only earned him a clueless shake of head.
TBC...
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