FicWad

Series/Sequel: None, but it is tied to every other story posted here that contains Fëanaro, as part of the infamous universe that my muses play around in. In this (more or less) AU verse, Erestor is born in Aman and he goes to study lore and craftsmanship with Fëanaro. I have written this story in honor of my love for both these exceptional characters.

Disclaimer: They are both mine, since this is a rather AU interpretation of canon facts and characters' lives. But I'm still only playing in the professor's sand-box.

Laurefindel is my version of Glorfindel's Quenya name.


Year 3019. Imladris


The thick snow outside has begun to reflect dawn's first light, but I have been awake for many hours. I watched the last embers of the fire dying, but I did not have the heart to leave the warmth of my bed and get another fire going. I dared not disturb the peaceful sleep of the one beside me, so I remained still, drawing warmth from his proximity and my own memories... of fire.

Times like these, my love, make me lose myself in memories of a life so long ago, that it seems but a distant dream. It was my life and I remember it now, more than even, as our time in these lands draws to an end, and, if Death does not take us in the inevitable war against the Enemy, those few of us still clinging to our homes will break the bonds that tie us to this world and sail West.

The memories come back to me more often now. But I will not dwell on those that cause me so much heart-ache, that it surprises even me, how I have managed to survive it. I will not think of your madness, of the way your fire scorched your bloodied, battered body, of how I saw the rise and ruin of your sons, your nephew... No! I cannot dwell on such things. If I am still here, still alive, it is because I have kept my mind shut to the agony of such memories, bringing back only those that make me smile... and long for you.

Thousands of years have passed, beloved, and I still love you as I did when you were by my side. And, when I relive my precious memories, I find the intensity of our bond not in the least bit dulled. I remember they way you smiled at me, from across the work-table, every time I learned something new, I mastered a new skill or created something never seen before. I remember the warmth of your arms around me, even when the embrace was chaste and you only wished to encourage me. I remember the patience you showed me, as a teacher, how you never raised your voice and you always had a kind word to say, even when I was undeserving. I recall the way your eyes took on a different light, how they lingered on me a moment longer, when I could no longer conceal my adoration and I struggled not to do something that would cost me your respect... and even my presence at your side.

I recall the intensity of our first kiss as if it were yesterday that I melted in your arms and offered myself to you in complete abandon. I remember how gentle you were, how you held me and touched me as if I were this fragile wonder, close to you one moment and disappearing the next. But, once I touched and tasted you, nothing could have ever driven me away... and I was lost. I know now that I had lost myself to you from the first moment my eyes beheld the magnificent creature that was my Prince and my teacher, long before I even dared to dream that you could be so much more.

I smile, longing written clearly on my face, when I remember the way you swept me off my feet, the way you made me laugh and feel as though I was the most important Elf in Arda, the most desirable and loved creature that had ever lived. You were my light, my hope, my dream and my whole world, I lived for you and with you, giving all of myself and receiving all that you could give.

I remember your passion and how it consumed me. I recall the way I was unmade beneath your touch, drowned in the pleasure that you gave me, basking in the radiance of your entire being, when your body merged with mine and the fire of your spirit blazed with blinding force. Desire for you makes my body crave and my heart ache with longing, even now. It always will, for I have not known such need and such love for another, nor will I ever. I belong to you, Fëanaro, and I remember how you used to smile when I told you this. You caressed me and held me close, telling me that I am precious to you, that you love me and could not stand it if I were not by your side. How could I walk away when you made me quiver with desire, whimpering beneath your kisses and the maddening touch of your hands? I was like a band of steel, heated in the fire of your passion, burning with the raw need to be worked and remade by you. Sometimes you were gentle and agonizingly slow, making me beg for my release until I was lost for words. Sometimes, you were rough, desperate to have me, tearing my clothes and yours, grappling with me and possessing my wanton body with wild force. You were insatiable, my love, and I often joked, saying that you could sire an army, if you set your mind to it. But I met your desire with equal strength, never tiring and always craving for more. I can think of many times when I was the one who burst upon you at unawares, unable to wait any longer and ruining more than one of your works. But you never complained, beloved, and you laughed, calling me a lustful hellion.

Ah... I could be a real hellion, at times. I fought you, my love, tooth and nail, sometimes, when I felt insecure, when I thought myself deceived and my place in your heart threatened. It was never an easy task, loving you... for I had your wife, your son and your brother to try and defend myself against. Before I understood that what you felt for me could not be compared to your feelings for either of them, I gave you hell and agonized in the fear that I would cross the line and you would show me the door. But you put up with me, my love, you found ways to calm my temper and you forgave my foolish acts of rage, knowing that my need for you and fear of losing you drove me to act that way. And you found ways to reassure me as well...

I remember one night, and a stormy night it was, so unlike the pleasant, perfect days we had in Valinor. I was soaked in a matter of moments, the time it took me to run from the workshops to the main house and step in, longing for a set of dry clothes and a cup of hot tea. The house was surprisingly silent, but sounds of merry-making reached my ears and I walked through the empty parlor, to a smaller room, more comfortable for welcoming guests and having private conversations. I sneaked behind the half-opened door, concealed by the lack of light and my dark-colored clothes, listening to the conversation and the laughter. I should have walked in and greeted my lords, you and your brothers, but something drove me to stay hidden and watch.

I remember seeing you, Fëanaro, seated on a comfortable sofa, facing your youngest brother, across a small, tea-table. He was telling you some joke and all three of you were laughing, a pleasant, melodic sound. You took a long sip form the goblet in your hand, saying something that flew past my ears, for I was focused only on the way your brother sat next to you, leaned on you and touched you every time he moved. I saw Nolofinwe pressed against you, his arm touching yours and his leg resting against yours. I noticed his hand casually dropping on your thigh and you did not move it away. I saw his long fingers tracing patterns on the soft fabric of your leggings, but you did not flinch from his touch. Instead, you laughed when Arafinwe told another lewd joke. Nolofinwe rubbed his flushed cheek against your shoulder and I could see the spark in his eyes... I could feel his desire for you and it stung me like the lashing of a whip. Yet, you did not move away from him. Instead, you smiled and whispered something wicked in his ear, making him gasp, before exploding into gales of laughter. He laughed and laughed, your beautiful brother, collapsing on the couch, and you managed to take the goblet from his shaking hand before he splattered himself with wine. Nolofinwe pulled you on top of him and you did not fight it, allowing yourself to be wrapped in his arms and kissed roughly. Arafinwe clamped a hand over his mouth and tried not to snicker at the scene unfolding before his shining, blue eyes.

But I felt sick, I could take seeing you like that no more and I retreated on unsteady legs, fleeing through the house. I remember so well, how miserable I was, back then, how I walked blindly, wherever my feet took me, supporting myself against the walls, when I could not trust myself to stand. My eyes were burning, tears welling and blurring my vision, but they could not wash away what I had seen. My chest was heaving, my lungs desperate for air and my heart racing. The painful lump in my throat did not allow me to scream, as I wished to and I stumbled through the dark corridors, until I came to your chambers-our chambers, and entered, slamming the door behind me. "You promised me!..." I began crying, and anger overtook me, making me smash and tear everything around me, cursing you, cursing your brother, cursing myself for trusting you.

I don't know for how long I raged, but, by the time I saw you in the door-frame, I had exhausted all my strength and collapsed at the foot of our bed, clutching a torn pillow in my arms and sobbing. I did not look up when you spoke to me, when you asked me about the disaster that the bedroom had turned into. I heard the door being closed and your careful footsteps bringing you near me, as you tried to avoid broken bits of whatever it was that I had smashed against the walls and floor. You dropped to your knees beside me and took me in your arms, despite my attempt to fight you off. You always were much stronger, even after I mastered swordsmanship and my body became that of a seasoned warrior. So you held my sobbing form close and trapped me in your warmth.

I remember trying to hate you. I remember how I called you all the vile names I could think of, while my face was buried in your tunic and I breathed your beloved scent, even as I drew in gulps of air, to curse you some more. You did not flinch beneath my words, but I could feel your body stiffening, as you tightened your hold on me. I did not explain the reason of my mad outburst, but you figured it out when my anger found a new target in Nolofinwe, and I cursed him, too.

I recall running out of breath and out of tears, all I could do, back then, was trying to rise to my feet and walk away from you. I remember your eyes, as you looked up, watching me taking a step back. I glared at you and saw guilt written on your face. Shame and guilt, Fëanaro, the likes of which I had never seen before. But it took more than that to sway me.

I argued bitterly that night, and I was sure that I would have to pack my belongings in the morning, for you would surely not suffer me under your roof any longer. But you bit back your anger, my love, and you put up with it, admitting your faults and pleading for my forgiveness. You said and did things that washed my anger away like a flood. You gave me reassurance that I had you as much as you had me. And I was overwhelmed.

You swept me off my feet and carried me to the bed, trying to make good your words and promises. I struggled and you pinned me beneath you, on the soft mattress, for I had pulled and tossed the bedding away, in my fit of anger. Your hands held mine captive, pressed above my head, you had me trapped under your weight and your heat, your face hovering above mine and breathing on my lips. "Please, please, Erestor, forgive me. Please, my love..." you whispered, pressing kisses all over my face, tasting the tears that had begun to trickle at the corners of my eyes. I should have tossed my head and looked away, but I didn't. And the love for me that blazed in your eyes was my undoing.

I remember welcoming your lips on mine and opening to the kiss. You released my hands and I embraced you immediately, wrapping myself around you, desperate to know that you were mine. I recall how reluctant I was to let you slip out of my grasp, but you did it only to remove my clothes, uncomfortable and still damp. I watched you as you covered me with hisses, my skin tingling and yearning for your warmth. You coaxed such pleasure out of me, that my anger was soon forgotten, and I writhed beneath your exquisite touch, hard and needy.

I saw your own clothes flying to the floor, in a pile of tunics, leggings and torn sheets. My heart soared when your breathtaking beauty was revealed to my hungry eyes and you stood before me, naked and magnificent as a god. But you came upon me not with ravenous passion, but with incredible tenderness. Our bodies were pressed flush against each other, as you kissed me slowly, thoroughly. I raised my hips and spread my legs, in wanton invitation, needing to be claimed and to have you setting both my mind and my body at ease. But you did something that made my heart skip a beat.

I remember how I stared at you, my eyes huge and misty, when you rolled on your back and pulled me on top of you. Mirroring my previous movement, you spread your legs and let me settle between your thighs, looking at me with pleading eyes and urging me to take you. "Make me yours, Erestor." you begged. "Claim me as your own." I could not believe my ears.

It makes me smile now, remembering how I froze on top of you, not even blinking, unable to fathom the idea that you would allow me to master your body. That you would be open to me and you would let me take you as none had ever done it before. Not even Maitimo... However, you did not have the patience to watch me musing, in my incredulous state. You bucked beneath me and I gasped, feeling our arousals slide against each other. Your fingers squeezed my hips and pressed me upon you even harder, while you continued pleading: "Please, my love. I need you. I am ready for it now and I promise you that, if you make me yours, so I shall remain. Please, Erestor..." How could I say "No" to that?

We fumbled with each other, I know this now... I knew everything about receiving and you knew everything about giving, but, when we found our roles exchanged, we were both apprehensive and careful. I did not wish to hurt you and I touched you with infinite gentleness, until you cried that you could no longer stand it. I followed your reactions and the memories of how you worked my body into a frenzy, preparing me to receive you. I waited until you were so aroused that you writhed wildly and your fingers dug into the mattress with such force that the fabric was ripped. I held my breath and began sliding slowly into the blinding heat of your body, so slow that all my muscles quivered with the strain of self-control. You tensed and tossed your head back, forcing yourself to breathe and relax, shuddering at the sensation of being breached.

I remember the agony of being trapped in that tight heat, unable to move, until your discomfort faded away. I wanted to scream and thrust violently, my body becoming desperate, but the look on your face, the way you willed yourself to have me and move against me, despite the sting of pain you must have felt, made me fight and regain control over my senses. I took your arousal in my hand and stroked it, coaxing small cries out of you and beginning to move my hips in shallow thrusts. When I knew that your discomfort was replaced by pleasure, my thrusts became bolder and I moaned, the friction almost driving me out of my mind. You screamed my name, when I hit the spot within you that made your body arch and the hardness in my hand twitch, lust surging through you. "Oh.. Erestor! That was incredible! Do it again..." you panted, and I angled my hips so I could brush that spot once more. You screamed again and I never felt better or more powerful.

It makes my body wake now, and respond to the sensations I recall. It is sweet torture, thinking about how you gave yourself to me, completely, how you urged me on with cries and moans, calling my name, while I drove myself deep within you, taking you apart. We did not last long. You begged me to take you faster and harder, thrashing wildly beneath me, raising your hips to meet my thrusts. And I gave it to you, letting go of the last shreds of control, living only for that incredible feeling of being encased in the tight heat that drove me mad with need. Our bodies glowed, sweat breaking over flushed skin, and I pounded into you desperately, until you convulsed and spent your essence in my hand, your whole body becoming so tense that I could take it no more. You called my name and murmured something, but my ears were filled with the furious pounding of my heart and I exploded inside you, collapsing on top of you when I could no longer thrust and my legs had no more strength left to support me.

I remember the dreamy look on your face, when you recovered your breath and some measure of control over your senses. You looked so happy and so incredulous that you had refused yourself such pleasure all along. But you told me that you did not regret it, because giving yourself to me felt right. You promised me that I would be the only one, that you would not allow any other to come near you, again. I gave you a pointed look and asked: "Not even Maitimo?". I expected you to frown and shoot back a stinging reply, as you always do, when somebody dares question the relationship you have with your firstborn. But your smile did not waver and you kissed me softly, before replying: "Not even Maitimo. I am yours."

I wanted to cry again, from unbearable joy, this time, but you would not let me. No... you coaxed me into full arousal, in a mater of moments, wanting me inside you again... and again. Ah, my love, you were always an insatiable one. And you always said that practice makes perfect...

My musings are disturbed by Glorfidel, stirring at my side and turning on his back, without waking. His hand searches for me and comes to rest on my thigh. I watch him smile and refrain from caressing his cheek, unwilling to wake him.

Yes, Laurefindel is my lover... My companions, my friend and my mate, for many centuries now. I remember the way you called him "your golden one", those few times we've taken him to our bed, my love. Being with you thrilled him and it pained him beyond words when we left him behind, to turn back or die, in the frozen wastelands of the North. But he has forgiven us. And he has turned to me from the first day he walked in his new home and started his new life, in Imladris. Laurefindel has not lied to me, nor has he tried to conceal the fact that his heart belongs to Ecthelion. I know that they will be reunited when we return to our Home, for I trust that the Powers will have mercy on both of them. What I will do then... I have no idea, but, for now, we give each other all the love and comfort that we can, we dry each other's tears and share the memories of a life long past. He knows that I love you, now no less than I did when you were the one sleeping at my side, in our bed. We give each other what can, Glorfindel and I, and for that, I am grateful.

Macalaurë has come to me in a dream, a few nights ago. He sang to me, of white shores, of ever-green fields and clear, blue skies. His song spoke of peace, of love and joy. I saw him in my dream, as he was before the marring of Valinor's bliss, a young and carefree lad, a cheery musician. He sat on the grass, beneath the trees that you and Maitimo used to grow, in the orchard behind the house. You and all his brothers were with him, circling him and listening to the song that he played on his harp. You took him in your arms and kissed the top of his head, after the last tune was carried away by the warm breeze. I woke up, with a start, feeling my cheeks damp with tears, because, in my dream, Macalaurë turned around and the look in his eyes was not that of a young lad, but the sad gaze, filled with longing and sorrow, that I have seen so many times, when bitterness clouded our hopeless lives in Beleriand. I felt as though he had looked into my very soul and he tried to tell me something, but you, my love, reclaimed your son's attention.

Glorfindel was there to hold me, while I cried myself back to sleep.