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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
Elrond appeared at some point during the night. Erestor was awake, guarding Lindir's sleep. Careful not to
wake the minstrel from a hopefully healing sleep, the two Noldor conversed in silence after agreeing to open
their minds to each other.
/~I believe he is better, isn't he?~/ Erestor's anxiety was clearly present in his thoughts.
/~very little. I can sense a darkness inside him that I cannot fight. I wish Mithrandir was here.~/ Elrond
examined the wound that looked familiar to him: it reminded the Peredhel of Frodo's shoulder. /~when will
you leave?~/
/~LEAVE?!~/
/~the Great East Road is unguarded, 'Tor. You brought him safely home, but you must return to your post now.~/
Elrond sensed an emotional turmoil in his mentor that he did not remember to have sensed ever before
/~Erestor, what is it with you? It is almost as if....~/ the Lord of Imladris stopped, stared with shock and
apprehension at the Chief Counselor. Could it be true? Elrond had always hoped that the lonely elf would again
find happiness but had given up hope for that after the last great battle. And now, here, the ancient Noldo
sat with a becoming blush and a shy smile, like an elfling caught at stealing gingerbread. Elrond's heart
ached for the ancient one who had raised him like a father. What cynical fate had caused this cruel twist?
Elrond came over and put his hands on Erestor's shoulder /~I am very happy for you, my dear old friend.~/ the
Lord kissed Erestor's head.
/~besides: I cannot leave: by carrying Lindir I think I broke a foot.~/
/~Again? Let's see.~/ Elrond knelt and carefully peeled off the boots. He winced internally: not even after
three millennia had he gotten used to the sight of the malformed, gnarly feet. The bones had never really
healed and kept cracking under strain. The examination confirmed Erestor's guess: the bones of one foot were
cracked again. They would always break in the same places thus causing the thick bulges that laid underneath
the scarred skin. /~indeed. Get rest then and heal. I will have your crutches brought to you.~/
Erestor made a face. He hated those! He hated to let everybody see his weakness and stoke the rumors about
him. He knew they were whispering behind his back but none had ever cared to ask - Erestor was too
intimidating most of the time to encourage such endeavor.
When Elrond had left them Erestor stared at Lindir's calm form, lit by the silvery light from the vial, his
heart overboarding with happiness and he began to sing again with a low, untrained voice.
"Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,
yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!
Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier
mi oromardi lissë-miruvóreva
Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni
ómaryo airetári-lírinen."
~~~
The sound of his lover's voice drew Lindir into wakefulness once more, and he smiled up at Erestor. Despite
the fact that a trained bard might have done the song more justice for an audience, Lindir could think of no
sound sweeter. "My love," he whispered, moving closer. His shoulder twinged painfully with the movement. "You
did not leave."
"Of course not!" Erestor shook his head, smiling. "I wouldn't leave even if you told me so."
Lindir looked up at Erestor's face, a faint misgiving showing through. "Is Lord Elrond willing to leave so
important a soldier to care for an invalid?"
"Yes. He said you may stay and bring me food and drink whenever I desire it." Erestor answered with a serious
face. Pointing at the crutches he continued "He needs me to go yet I cannot. First I need to heal and that may
give us a few days of togetherness." Erestor kissed the palm of Lindir's hand.
Lindir smiled faintly though he hated the idea of Erestor having been injured. The elder elf rarely spoke of
his infirmity, but he'd watched Erestor walk painfully through the halls of Imladris. He'd heard whispers of
the damage to his body from the war but had never seen the scars.
"You realize that, for the sake of safety, I will have to ride sooner or later. Besides: Elrond is my Lord and
I would never oppose any of his orders. Well, at least not openly." Erestor admitted this unthinkable fact.
Even this admission was almost impossible and was only made because of his newfound intimacy with Lindir.
"But let us not dwell on the future, love. Do you desire anything? Drink, food? Maybe some hot broth would do
you good?" Erestor could not drag his eyes away from Lindir's face and he relished the fact that he could do
so now openly.
"Nay, nothing but you." Indeed the idea of food made Lindir's stomach churn. "I do not think I am yet quite
up to a meal, even broth." Looking down, he tried to study the wound on his shoulder. "I had hoped it might
look better..." Instead the tendrils of black curling out from the central hole continued to wind out into
his pale flesh.
Fumbling with crutches and the chair Erestor changed his place so that he sat on the injured side of Lindir's.
He took a look at the wound that looked strangely, as if sepsis was at work. Placing a warm hand onto the
shoulder Erestor could feel the icy cold of the injured body-part.
"If only Mithrandir was here -" Erestor halted his thought "I'll be right back." he limped outside to his
room where he kept a salve for his feet that Mithrandir replenished whenever the wizard was at Imladris.
Why the wizard did so was a mystery to Erestor yet the salve soothed his wounds better than anything Elrond
had ever produced.
Little did Erestor know that the slave was laced with white magic that would only work best when applied
with true love by another because the wizard felt he owed Erestor and hoped Erestor would one day find a
lover again who would help the ancient elf to truly heal.
Erestor returned with the alabaster-pot. "Mithrandir make this for my... My wounds." Erestor explained,
still reluctant to mention his injuries,
Unwilling to press the sensitive issue, Lindir simply nodded. He hoped that with time the elf might come
to confide in him. //He has been long without anyone to speak to of his difficulties. I cannot expect him
now to open his heart so easily.//
"It will probably not help, but it won't hurt either to try this, if you allow me?" his black eyes searched
Lindir's. Erestor would grasp for any straw that might promise even a slight improvement.
"Of course." The younger elf looked over at the wound and then back at Erestor. "Your touch alone will surely
help, melda." Lindir braced himself for the pain he was certain would accompany anyone touching the jagged,
infected wound.
Erestor could hardly think straight with such praise from the one he loved! He hoped fervently that he would
not fail so much trust.
"I'll try not to hurt you." Erestor dipped a finger into the pot and then very carefully spread it around
the wound, slowly nearing the center of the infection. He bit his lip in empathy, knowing that his touch had
to be painful. Was it his imagination, wishful thinking or did the web of black lines fade slightly? It had
to be imagination, no salve would work that fast, thought Erestor
"You are very brave, Lindir, but it's OK to show your pain. I would understand." then he was there and
smeared some of the salve into the wound.
Lindir jerked at the touch despite himself and whimpered. Though he'd never considered himself particularly
brave, his lack of restraint brought a blush to the bard's cheeks. //He has lived millennia and seen terrible
war and you writhe like an injured child.// Finally Lindir managed to still his body, though tears of pain
still stood in his eyes.
"I'm done, pen-neth." Erestor whispered softly. He caressed the minstrel's cheek with the back of his hand.
"Believe me, there have been times when I screamed until I thought my throat would burst. Don't be ashamed."
//ah, really? Maybe you should listen to that yourself//
At last it was finished, and he realized dimly that the wound indeed ached less. Touching the hand of the
injured arm with the other, he smiled. "It feels... warmer... does it not?" Lindir held the hand out to
Erestor, barely able still to keep it elevated without support.
Erestor clasped the limp hand in his own. Yes, it did feel warmer! "If you feel it too, it cannot be my
imagination." he pressed the hand against his face, kissing the palm reverently "You see, you will heal."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you that everybody is very concerned about your state and they wish you well,
especially Anithil and quite an impressive throng of attractive admirers. I could hardly shake them
off! I had to give them The Glare to keep them outside." Erestor was indeed infamous for his menacing
stares. He felt a tiny pang of jealousy and wondered why Lindir wanted to be with him when the minstrel
could have virtually each and everybody at Imladris. //how shall I keep him? Why would he want to stay
when he finds out I'm not some idea or idol but an elf of flesh and blood?//
"And what do I need of admirers when I already sit in company far richer than I deserve?" Lindir laughed
quietly, expression much warmer though he still looked pale and tired.
"Oh, you flatter me!" Erestor laughed. But he couldn't deny the effect it had on him - he blushed and felt
his heart speed up. He was hungry for such words, like someone who had been out in the desert would thirst
for water.
"Now, you must let me tend your injuries. It is only fair." He took the salve in his good hand and shook
his head before Erestor could protest. "I am tired, yes, and hurting still, but you are in pain as well.
I will not allow you to suffer and yet aide me if you will not let me do the same. Let me help you as well.
Please?"
Flustered and nervous Erestor wanted to oppose. He did not want Lindir to see how ugly he truly was. After
three millennia Erestor was no longer used to expose himself to others. But Lindir insisted and he did
not want to upset the recovering elf. He sighed and nodded faintly.
"You don't have to. In the beginning I couldn't even make myself touch me." he peeled off the boot from
the broken foot, hands shaking with the fear of rejection. Leaning back he lifted the crippled foot up
to the bed, so Lindir could conveniently reach it - it he indeed could make himself do so.
"I love no part of you less than any other," Lindir responded softly. He knew Erestor's misgivings about
his own body but could not help thinking the other elf beautiful regardless.
Erestor held his breath: would Lindir really touch him? And if, what would it feel like? He kept his eyes
fixed on his hands, not wanting to see shock or pity in his beloved's eyes.
Had Erestor looked up he would have seen sadness and something close to anger. It angered Lindir that
anyone had ever dared to so injure the elf who was destined to become his lover. Gentle fingers skated
over the marred flesh, feeling each bump and knob without putting enough pressure on the foot to cause pain.
Suppressing the urge to pull away from a stranger's touch, Erestor gasped softly when he felt Lindir's
gently brushing fingers.
Lindir softly hummed a song and began gently to apply some of the salve onto the worse of the bruises
covering Erestor's skin. He hoped it might do something for the pain. Though his lover bravely spoke
nothing of his own injuries, Lindir knew how much they must have hurt.
Erestor slowly relaxed and fixed his eyes on Lindir, watching with amazement the soft fingers salving
his deformed crippled foot. The touch alone would have worked miracles but with the wizard's ointment it
seemed to soothe any pain present! Not even Elrond with his healing-abilities had ever done as much.
//well, this is not a healer handling your foot, this is one who claims to love you! How long has it been?
Much too long.//
"Ha-hannon lle." he whispered "You cannot guess what this means to me, Lindir. I -" Erestor swallowed and
looked up, his eyes blazing with a forgotten fire "I have not been touched so tenderly in a very long time,
melamin."
"You should have been. I cannot imagine that there were not men who would lay themselves at your feet to
worship." Lindir blushed after speaking the words. He rarely censored himself save around Erestor, but the
new freedom between them had made him forgetful of thinking before he spoke.
Erestor couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Neither ellyn nor ellis."
Tired even from the brief rising, Lindir lay himself back down at Erestor's side and clasped the elder elf's
hand. "I have long desired this, Erestor. I feared that speaking of such things to you would make you retreat,
that I would lose your friendship."
Erestor sighed. Lindir was right. He might have retreated completely had the subject been brought up any time
sooner. "I was a fool and a coward, I realize that now."
Seeing how tired Lindir was, Erestor who did not want to leave Lindir suggested something he was not sure
it would not be overstepping a borderline.
"Would you like me to hold you while you sleep? I long to rest but I cannot make myself leave." he explained.
"Please. I should hate to wake and find you gone." Lindir felt certain that would be the cruelest of possible
solutions. "Please, melda, stay by my side." They were both injured after all, unable to leave even if Elrond
did want his advisor out in the field. "I cannot bear to be away from you now after so long waiting..."
The ancient warrior gently lifted Lindir up, made himself comfortable on the bed and then let the minstrel
sink against his chest. He sighed with contentment. Erestor relished the sweet weight against his body and
wrapped an arm around Lindir's chest while he threaded the fingers of his other hand through the long
tresses of dark silky hair.
"This feels so good, melamin." Erestor whispered. Lindir's hair smelled like sweet hay and with the warmth
that rose from the young elf's body all the sweetest scents came wafting around Erestor's nostrils and he
shivered when the unmistakable note of fresh musk washed over him. "I could content with doing this for the
rest of my eternity. Or at least I should!"
"Would that we could remain this way," Lindir whispered back. He had wanted for so long to hold Erestor.
Having the elf's strong arms wrapped around him in such a time of strife was heaven. Even the pain mattered
not when he could feel such joy. "Love... I would... I would give myself to you this moment if I were not
so tired..." Indeed Lindir sounded half asleep as he spoke the words.
Erestor's hand gently squeezed Lindir's side. For so long no-one had made such offer, had promised anything
the like. And now they could not act upon it!
"Then dream of it, beloved. Mayhap we encounter each other tonight in our dreams?" The warrior kissed
Lindir's hair again and again, cursing the injuries that kept them both from fulfilling their dreams.
"Dream..." his eyes glazed over as he drifted into reverie, a smile on his lips.
TBC...
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