The Gift
Chapter Six: Good Morning, Imladris

Rating: NC-17
Category: Humour, drama, AU
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel
Warnings: Slash (means: two males in some kind of love), Mpreg
Summary: Chapter 5 has some consequences ...
Notes: This is it, the insignificant little tale that launched a thousand Plains Elves. This tale was actually instigated (and I say ‘instigated’, not ‘inspired’) by a conversation with some of the kids that regularly pop by the EOAS tag board, so blame them. I had NO intention of EVER writing an m-preg, and held my ground admirably until my buddy Eveiya shouted “BRING OUT THE LAST HOMELY ULTRA-SOUND!” This is purely for fun, and I make NO apologies to anyone, except Brian Montgomery and kindly old Prof. T, who is probably doing backflips in his grave. Music listened to while writing this masterpiece; Spike Jones’ Greatest Hits, specifically; “Serenade to a Jerk.”
Additional Warning: Use of a Tablero board

“Erestor, you do not look well.”

Erestor curled his lip slightly. “I am fine, my Lord.”

Elrond did not believe the remark for one moment. For the last two weeks, his chief advisor had been pale, listless, distracted, and generally as much fun as a rabid warg. At first he thought perhaps Erestor’s relationship with Glorfindel had taken a sudden plummet; however neither he nor Glorfindel seemed at odds with one another. Well, any more than usual.

Erestor picked listlessly at his breakfast, then sighed, pushing the plate away. He briefly turned his attention to his tea, but the look on his face suggested he would rather hang himself than drink it. Elrond was about to say something, when Glorfindel blew into the room, cheerful as ever.

“Good morning all. Erestor, there you are, you were not in bed when I awoke this morn.” He gently moved the long, black hair out of Erestor’s face and gave him a kiss. Seating himself, he gave his lover a concerned look. “Darling you do not look well.”

The ensuing over-reaction nearly destroyed the Morning Room. Erestor lunged out of his seat, blazing with a violent white light that only truly angry Elves were capable of, and bellowed into Glorfindel’s shocked face; “I AM FINE!! FOR THE BLOODY LAST TIME I AM NOT SICK!!”

Glorfindel hung onto the table with one hand to stop himself from falling over, his blue eyes huge, mouth agape in shock. Elrohir and Elladan, reacting to an in-born instinct to flee raging elders, crashed into one another and nearly became trapped in the doorway in their haste to leave. Mauburz hit the floor, dragging Bilbo off his seat and clutching the old Hobbit like a doll.

Glorfindel offered his lover a sickly, appeasing grin. “Of course…. darling… ah…. it must have just been the lighting.”

Elrond slowly surveyed his Morning Room, taking in the sight of the tipped chairs, scattered utensils, the Orc and Hobbit hiding beneath his table, and Glorfindel nearly wetting himself in submission. He sighed heavily, and rose to his feet.

“Erestor, to your chambers. Now.”

Erestor looked over at his Lord, suddenly seeming to realize how he had behaved. He seemed to shrink, and said very softly; “Yes my Lord.” Quietly and meekly, he left the Morning Room.

Mauburz and Bilbo peered over the edge of the table. “He gone?” she asked.

Elrond smiled at her. “Yes, he is gone.” He looked towards Glorfindel, who still had the utmost look of shock on his face.

“Glorfindel. I suppose my inquiry should begin with you. Any idea what is wrong with him?”

Glorfindel just shook his head, his eyes huge. After a moment he remembered to close his mouth. Erestor had finally accomplished what so many others had failed to do; he had rendered Glorfindel speechless.

“Have you noticed anything odd?”

Glorfindel shook his head once more. Elrond sighed. “Well, I supposed I shall go see if Erestor will shed any light on his behavior.” The tall Elven Lord exited the room. Mauburz slowly stood up, still clutching Bilbo to her full bosom.

“Well that was exciting,” said the old Hobbit.

***---***

Erestor was curled up on his bed, his cloak covering him like a smothering growth of blue moss. Elrond sat down upon the bed and raised part of the cloak. Finding boots, he dropped it and turned to face the other end. He began lifting the weighty wrap, when a hand reached out and pulled it down once more.

“Erestor, I have not seen behavior like this since Elladan was dumped by his first love.” The lump did not move. Elrond sighed heavily. He reached around the furry bundle and gently pulled it upright. “Come along now, tell Uncle Elrond all about it.”

Erestor’s head emerged from the fur, black hair wild and stringing over his face. He was precisely the same shade of green Elves were not supposed to be.

“I feel terrible,” the advisor finally admitted.

“Hmm so I see.” He pushed the black hair out of Erestor’s face, then allowed him to lean against him. “Now what is wrong?”

“Everything. Nothing. I do not know.”

Elrond suspected Erestor’s problems were little more than stress brought about by trying to organize a house as large as his own for such a long journey. He stroked the long black hair. “I am ordering you to spend the next five days doing nothing. Meanwhile, I shall personally be looking in on you.”

“Yes, Lord Elrond.”

“And no more terrorizing my sons.”

“No, Lord Elrond.”

“Or the Orc.”

“No, my Lord.”

“Very well,” said Elrond softly. “Lie down and rest. Others can tend to your duties a while.”

Erestor was far too happy to comply. He slowly lay down upon the bed once more, disappearing under his cloak. Elrond gazed thoughtfully at him for a time, then rose from the bed and left the room. He found Glorfindel waiting in the hall.

“Well?” he asked.

Elrond said; “I do not believe he is ill, I think, perhaps, he is over-wrought. Still, I will consult my books and see if I cannot determine whether anything is truly wrong with him. Meanwhile, he has been ordered to rest, and I am making it your task to see he does.”

Glorfindel watched Elrond depart, then quietly entered the room. Closing the door behind himself, he locked it, then made his way over to the blue lump on the bed. He lay down beside Erestor, pulling the cloak over himself and moving behind his lover, sliding an arm around him and holding him close.

“So you are still speaking to me,” said Erestor.

Glorfindel kissed the back of his neck. “Always, love, always.”

“What is the matter with me, did Elrond say?”

“Ah. He suspects chronic perfectionism, coupled with gas.”

Erestor drove his elbow into Glorfindel’s ribs, and laughed. He rolled over to face him, then kissed him. “Five days to do nothing. However shall I manage?”

“I cannot imagine. Perhaps I can come up with something to help you pass the time.”

Erestor slid his hand up the inside of Glorfindel’s thigh. “Perhaps you can.”

They whiled away the day, making love and dozing the warmth of early summer. Erestor lay on his side, feeling Glorfindel’s hand idly stroke over his ribs, finally coming to rest on his stomach.

“Is it just me, darling, or have you gained a little weight?”

***---***

Elrond, Bilbo, and Mauburz were seated around a small table in the drawing room. On the table was a board with seven small glasses on it, as well as a few drips and splashes. Bilbo tossed the dice and looked at the number that came up.

“To the Queen!” he said, raising a glass and passing it to Mauburz. The Orc accepted it blearily, tossing back the contents. She burped quietly, then passed Bilbo the empty glass.

“Next game, you be Queen,” said the Orc.

They were distracted from their game by the door opening, revealing Glorfindel. He was wearing nothing save a five hundred year old hunting tapestry and a black eye. Elrond had the good grace to try and look as though there was nothing terribly odd about this; Mauburz and Bilbo roared with laughter.

Glorfindel stepped over to the table and emptied several of the little glasses, then sat down, disheveled.

“Lord Elrond, I really do wish you would go look in on Erestor, he has locked himself in his chambers, he will not let me back in, and he is crying his eyes out.”

“Indeed?” Elrond held back as much of his smile as he was able. “Well, perhaps I will go have a word with him.” He rose from the table, allowing Mauburz to take his place, and exited the room. Once the door was closed, all three heard him burst into laughter. Mauburz filled the glasses, then set up the board once more.

“You be Queen this game,” she said to Glorfindel, passing him the dice.

***---***

Elrond was gone for hours. Bilbo managed to creep into the chambers to get Glorfindel some clothes, but did not see Elrond or Erestor. Given Erestor’s present behavior, Bilbo was quite glad of this. He did hear their voices coming softly from another room, but he did not stay to eaves drop. He took a set of clothes for Glorfindel, then quietly returned to the drawing room. Glorfindel was on his feet and waiting for him; Mauburz was passed out in her chair.

“Did you hear anything?” asked Glorfindel as he dressed.

“No, nothing,” said Bilbo. He seated himself once more, then looked at the drunken Orc. “You know, there was a time in my life when I would have been deeply worried about sharing a table with an Orc.”

“Yes, well,” said Glorfindel as he pulled on his tunic, “There was a time when hearing Erestor was ill would have been a dandy excuse to slip castor oil into his food. Now I just hope his condition is not fatal.”

“For which one of you?” said Bilbo.

Glorfindel glared at the old Hobbit. Bilbo sighed. “My dear Glorfindel, have you honestly ever heard of any dying under Lord Elrond’s care? Erestor will be up and nagging in no time.”

The Elven warrior finished dressing and sat down. “Ah you are right. If he is indeed ill, Lord Elrond will make him well.”

The door opened, and in stepped Elrond. He walked over to the table and poured a glass of wine, then passed it to Glorfindel. He took another for himself before sitting down.

“How is he?” asked Glorfindel.

Elrond just sat, staring straight ahead. He swallowed his drink and poured himself another. “He… well… he is not going to die.”

“How long until he recovers?”

“Around seven months, however I am afraid his condition is a life-long one.”

Glorfindel actually became angry. “Well what is wrong with him? I am in no mood for word-games!”

Elrond looked over at Glorfindel, and smiled at him. “Of course you are not,” he said gently. “Erestor is well, Glorfindel, there is not a thing wrong with him. He is… well… I cannot believe I am about to say this. He is with child.”

Silence fell at the table. Mauburz opened one eye, then thought the better of the action and closed it once more.

Glorfindel sat, blinking at Elrond. “I am sorry, I must have misheard you.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I must have. I am no healer, true, but I do know where children come from.”

“Well as do I, I do have three of my own! I have examined him. Whatever he is, he is apparently not full Elf. He is, however, definitely pregnant.” Elrond poured himself a drink. “All Imladris quakes at the prospect.”

Bilbo looked at Glorfindel. “So will you be having the next one, then?”

“You are a horrid little wart, you know that.”

“Perhaps, but at least I never got my boyfriend in the family way.”

“You do not have a boyfriend.”

“Not especially planning on having one, either, after what just happened to you.”

Glorfindel stood up. “I cannot sit here and bandy words with you, I must go see Erestor.”

The three watched him go. Bilbo poured himself some wine, then looked from Mauburz to Elrond. “What do suppose the off-spring of an Elf and an Orc would be?”

“An Orf,” said Mauburz. Elrond dipped his fingertips into his wine and flicked the droplets at Bilbo.

***---***

Glorfindel found Erestor where Elrond had left him, standing on the balcony of their large chambers. He was huddled within the depths of that horrendous blue cloak, looking small. Glorfindel stepped up behind him and slid his arms around him, holding him tightly. Erestor looked over his shoulder at him.

“Has Elrond told you?”

“Yes. Though I admit I was not inclined to believe him at first. He seems to think… you are perhaps not fully Elven.”

“I have no idea. One of my ancestors was supposedly a wild being from the plains, traveling with his kin. He had long black hair, and fierce yellow-green eyes. My great-great-grandmother and he stayed together a number of years, and he fathered four children. But he would not abandon his nomadic ways, and they parted. I thought it the fond musings of one who has lost a lover. Perhaps not.”

Glorfindel stroked the long black hair. “There would seem to be some truth to her tales. You must speak to her when we at least reach the Havens.”

“First I shall throw her into the sea for getting me into this mess.”

“No no, do not throw your Granny into the ocean, it is very bad form. Besides, I believe I am the one responsible.”

Erestor looked over his shoulder once more at Glorfindel. “It does not disturb you that my ancestry is of such an unusual origin?”

“Oh come darling, I love you, not your ancestors. So your Grandmother has a fondness for nomadic wildmen of indeterminate origin. Just as well, if she had not, I would have not met you.”

Erestor turned to put his arms around Glorfindel, holding him close. “And you still love me?”

“I will always love you. Even when you are fat and bloated and demanding pickled frogs’ feet at all hours.”

“You really do want a second black eye to match the first.”

“I should imagine I will have one eventually, yes.” He picked Erestor up, cloak and all. “But in between fights, let us do something else.” As he turned to carry Erestor to the bed, he said, “And while we are confessing things, darling, I really do have to tell you something about that cloak…”