The Last Homely House
Chapter Ten

Rating: NC-17
Category: Humour, Drama, AU
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Haldir/Rabbit, Legolas/Gimli
Warnings: Slash (means: two male Elves in some kind of love) Mpreg
Summary: Who is the mysterious "buyer" who hunts down Plains Elves? Glorfindel, Haldir, Aragorn and Rumil find out - but at high costs...

There was no arguing with Fin, and Erestor didn’t even try. The Elf who had slain demons, defended cities, and even come back from the Halls of Mandos was in no mood to be argued with. He led Erestor to their little cottage, and with a curtness that was so unlike the tone he normally used when speaking to his husband, simply said: “Inside. Lock the door. Don’t come out.”

Erestor nodded, and entered the little cottage, then dutifully locked the door before going to the bedroom where Rosie was sitting with Estorel. She glanced up as he appeared in the doorway.

“Everything all right?” she asked. “Lord Glorfindel sounded a little angry.”

Erestor walked over to the Halfling woman and took his child from her. “He’s not angry,” said Erestor softly. “He is afraid.”

***---***

Inside of an hour, every Elf in the valley knew what Bill and Will were up to, and construction ground to a halt as the Elves prepared to defend themselves. Haldir immediately went seeking Rabbit, finally locating him after three grueling hours of calling.

The Mordorian Plains Elf emerged from a muddy bank, covered in black earth. He shook himself, then crossed the river with lupine grace to meet his lover. He pulled back nervously as Haldir rushed to meet him, but allowed himself to be caught and held. Haldir sighed with relief.

“Where is Bramble?”

“She and Rúmil are in Elrond’s office.”

“You have to come with me, it is not safe for you to be out here.”

“Not safe?” Rabbit looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Those two Orcs who managed to capture you and Elrond were looking for dark Elves. Specifically; Plains Elves.”

“Plains Elves? How would they know about us? We have not walked this land for many thousands of years.”

“I do not know how they would know, but they do. And we have made no great secret of you and Erestor. Someone was willing to pay those Orcs a great deal of gold for you two. Erestor is locked in the cottage; I would like you there as well.”

Haldir watched the look in Rabbit’s eye, knowing how well he would take to the idea of being locked up. He heard his breath catch, and felt his stomach clench as his lover pulled back. If Rabbit chose to run, there would be no finding him. He waited, fear making his insides sick. He watched Rabbit pace nervously.

“Please,” he heard himself say quietly. “Only a few days, until we catch this ‘Buyer’. Please Rabbit. They are hoping to capture you and Erestor, and they have already made it known you are more valuable pregnant.”

Rabbit paused, looking towards Haldir. “I am not certain I am,” he said quietly.

“And if you are?”

Haldir watched Rabbit, knowing the thoughts and fears going through his lover’s mind; fear of confinement verses fear of torture and cruelty. But the confinement would be by those who loved him, and wanted him safe. Haldir hoped he chose confinement.

Rabbit sighed, and hung his head. His proud, strong body sagged, and he suddenly looked less like a hunting wolf than he did an old dog. “I will go with you, and hide. If you think this is best.”

Haldir heaved a sigh of relief. “I do. It is just for a short time.”

Rabbit curled his lip slightly. “It is already too long, but I will bear this for you.”

***---***

Erestor looked up as the door opened, and Bramble came into the little cottage. A moment later, in prowled Rabbit. He looked around mournfully, then made his way over to Erestor and sat at his feet, resting his chin on his thigh. He sighed heavily.

“I am not pleased to be here.”

Erestor stroked his hand over Rabbit’s hair, then picked out a bit of debris. “Nor am I, dear friend. But we shall suffer through together.”

“I shall go mad.”

“You had better not. I’ve enough to deal with changing nappies and heating bottles all day, I’m not looking after you too!”

The door opened, and Elladan was shoved into the room. A moment later Arwen and Elrohir followed.

“Estel I do not need to be locked up like some errant child!” yelled Elrohir.

“Nor do I!” said Arwen. “Aragorn you open this door NOW or there is going to be an incident!”

The door was locked. Elladan, the only one of the trio not howling to be released, made his way over to the large couch and sat beside Erestor.

“So they got you too,” said Erestor wryly.

He nodded. “Orophin was concerned, so I decided to make him happy. He also gave me a little gift to make the time pass.”

He reached into his robes, then pulled out the much scarred and stained but ever faithful Tablero board. Then he reached in and pulled out three bottles.

“And what, pray tell, is in there?” asked Erestor.

“Something the archers in Lothlórien use to keep warm. Strawberry mead, laced with something Orophin called ‘Undetectable Preservative.’”

Arwen stopped beating her fists against the door and turned towards her brother. “Perhaps the day is not lost after all!” she said.

***--***

Elrond was currently unaware of what was occurring in the encampment.

He had been helping some of the Dwarfs to set a cornerstone. The stone had slipped and pulled him down. He was, for the most part, unhurt, but had wrenched his knee badly. One of the Dwarfs had helped him to his pavilion, where Elrond had treated the injury. Then he had taken a sleeping draught before retiring to his bed to rest and heal.

And dream.

He watched Erestor step into the tent. Behind him, the mess of construction had been replaced by the fair gardens that had once been there. The only sound was bird song, and the gentle rush of the river. Erestor closed the doorway of the pavilion, then turned to face his Lord. He reached up with his long hands and undid the front of his robe, then slid the black garment from his fair shoulders.

Unclad, he moved lightly across the scattered rugs. Elrond watched him walk, watched the sway of his lean body, the movement of his long legs. Erestor reached the large bed and lay down beside Elrond, moving close to him. He lowered his head and kissed him softly, his long black hair falling down to caress his shoulders.

Elrond reached out to take him in to his arms, running his hands down the soft, warm satin of his flesh, delighting in the shift of muscle beneath his fingers. He kissed him deeply, tasting him, smelling the warmth of his skin. He rolled over, moving himself over top of him, his hands reaching up to touch the fine lines of his face, the living silk of his hair.

Elrond moved further down Erestor’s body, planting soft kisses on his fair skin, breathing in his scent. He lingered over each kiss, tasting him with soft, cat-like strokes of his tongue. He made his way to one nipple, gently closing his lips over it, his hands sliding down Erestor’s waist. He felt the Elf beneath him shift, drawing one leg up to drape over him, heard him make a quiet sigh. He smiled, then moved his head to Erestor’s collarbone, kissing the small crayfish tattoo Rabbit had put on him months ago. Then he moved over to the other nipple, licking gently, then sucking, his long dark hair teasing over the damp, sensitive skin of the nipple he had abandoned.

Erestor gasped and squirmed, his hands moving over Elrond’s shoulders as the older Elf made his way slowly down his body. Elrond paused to kiss his stomach, bringing one hand over to touch the slight curve that indicated the bed Estorel had so recently lain in. The curve was very erotic, Elrond thought, kissing it, as was everything else about Erestor.

He caressed the soft skin of his stomach, his hips, his thighs. He shifted further down, feeling Erestor’s long leg drape over his shoulder. He kissed the inside of his thigh, then gently, slowly, licked it, reveling in the taste and smell of him. He lightly bit the flesh, and Erestor jumped, then laughed quietly. Elrond smiled, and lowered his head to softly run his tongue over the head of Erestor’s hard penis.

Erestor cried out quietly as Elrond took the stiff shaft into his mouth. As with every other part of Erestor, he moved slowly, not wanting to miss a single sensation. The taste, the smell, the feel of the thin, delicate skin against his tongue. He brought one hand down to gently brush the heated flesh between Erestor’s legs, touching him, exploring him. Then, unable to wait any longer, rose up and moved to lay on top of him. He kissed Erestor hard, then, arching his body, pushed into him.

He heard himself draw a ragged gasp of air as the intensity of being inside Erestor washed over him. He kissed Erestor hard, passionately, embracing him tightly as he moved within him, trying to keep his thrusts slow and steady, so not to end their lovemaking too soon. But the hot, tight embrace around his penis was too intense, and despite his efforts, he felt his passions rising quickly.

Elrond heard himself speaking softly to Erestor, whispering into his ear as he made love to him. He kissed him hard, then cried out as his control finally failed and he felt his orgasm overwhelm his senses. He threw his head back and cried out again, gasping for breath, fingers clutching Erestor’s shoulders as his semen flooded into him.

He heard himself saying something, but was unable to understand himself. He kissed Erestor hard, and tried to tell him he loved him, but the words would not come. He felt his eyes become hot and wet, even as he grew soft within him, and he kissed Erestor softly. Then he looked down into the soft grey eyes, and said quietly; “I understand.”

Erestor kissed him gently, then abruptly vanished as Elrond heard a loud noise mere feet from his head. He sat up, sweaty, rumpled, and with a lapful of his own semen. He pulled the covers up self-consciously, then looked in the direction of the sound.

It was Rúmil. He was clad in his grey uniform, and was loading a crossbow originally meant for use on dragons. It was a huge, ancient weapon, and Rúmil was forced to load it by stepping on the bow and using his full strength to pull back the wire. Once loaded, he carefully set it down, then began loading a series of smaller crossbows.

Elrond shoved his hair out of his face, hoping Rúmil wasn’t present throughout his dream. “Rúmil what are you doing?”

Rúmil pulled up a double-loading crossbow. ‘It would seem our dear friends Will and Bill have been sent to capture dark haired elves. More specifically, Plains Elves. And I am taking no chance on someone mistaking you for one. Afraid we will have to play Master and Catamite later. Right now, I am your guardian. And no one is coming near you.”

Rúmil slung the double-loading crossbow, then picked up the ornate black and gold dragon-slayer. His gold hair was braided back in warrior-fashion, and the uniform fit close to his lean, muscled body. Elrond looked at him as though seeing him for the first time.

“Rúmil.”

Rúmil flung his hair back, then sheathed a dagger in his boot before looking at Elrond. “Yes my Lord?”

Elrond could not help but feel guilty for his dream. But, a dream was all it was, and would ever be. He reached out one hand towards Rúmil. The young Galadhrim sat on the bed, looking at him. Elrond gently drew him close, and kissed him.

“Be careful,” he said softly.

Rúmil grinned, then kissed Elrond back. “I shall.” He touched him, gently moving the dark hair back from Elrond’s aristocratic face. “I have terrible news, my Lord. I think I love you.”

Elrond pulled him close, burying his face into Rúmil’s golden hair. He closed his eyes, and simply held him tight, fearing to admit he felt the same way.

***---***

“Haldir!”

Haldir paused and looked in the direction he heard his name called. He saw Glorfindel coming towards him. “Have you heard?” he asked.

“Aye. I only just got Rabbit to the cottage. And Aragorn has brought the twins as well as the Lady Arwen there.”

Glorfindel put an arm around him as they walked towards the cooking fires. “Rabbit must be displeased.”

“He is, but I will not have him argue with me in this matter.” Haldir paused and glanced about, then leaned close to Glorfindel. “He may be with child,” he said softly.

Glorfindel caught his breath. “Another time I would congratulate you. But now is not a good time.”

“I know. And no one knows he may be pregnant, so I would ask you tell no one.”

“Not a word my friend. But I wonder why they seek Plains Elves? A futile quest at best, considering they are all but extinct!”

“I know nor care,” said Haldir. “But I will not have my lover dragged off like a bred cow to market. I suppose all will be made clear when we capture this mysterious Buyer.”

“Aye, that it will be.” Glorfindel narrowed his blue eyes. “He will speak, or Mauburz will have an end of him!” He paused and watched Rhimlan herd his newly-returned Elflings into a large pavilion, where the Elves would gather after the day was done. He noticed Lindir and the five mortal girls were with them. Bringing up the rear was Mauburz. “Well, there is one group of children we need not worry about.”

Haldir smiled. “It is good to see something nice happen to Rhimlan for a change.”

“It is. I was beginning to think he was cursed. Let us go see if he needs help getting that brood under control.”

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain you wish to help, and not to woo Mauburz away from him?”

Glorfindel grinned. “Ah, my grand scheme has been discovered. I shall have to keep Erestor a while yet, I fear.”

***---***

It was the fourth night, and the small group stood near the woodshed. Rain fell softly, a mere gentle sprinkling, lightly falling on the leaves of the great trees. It was dark, and other than the rain, there was no sound. Glorfindel stood quietly, trying to ignore the stench of Will’s cloak. Beside him stood Aragorn, wearing Bill’s ragged cape. Close by, pretending to the captives, stood Elrohir and Elladan. All around them, in the trees, the bushes, and in the shed itself, were Elves, weapons ready, waiting.

It was just past midnight when they heard someone approaching, walking quietly through the bushes. Then the footsteps paused. “Will! Is that you ya worthless bastard? Get a light on you fool so I can see what I’m giving the Master’s gold for!”

The half-Orc stepped into the clearing, then stopped dead. A lamp came on, and he looked at the assembled group. Aragorn and Glorfindel lowered their hoods, and the half-Orc curled his lip. “A trap, is it? You’ll not get me!” He turned to run, and was suddenly faced with the point of a drawn arrow. Orophin stared coldly at him.

“I would hold if I were you.”

The Orc bolted. Orophin, with cool smoothness, fired the bow, the arrow cutting deep into the half-Orc’s leg. He fell, and was immediately captured.

“Was he alone?” asked Glorfindel, shedding the dirty cape.

Rúmil stepped into the light. “I followed him from the road, I saw no others.”

“There must be others,” said Aragorn. “That or he knows sad little about Plains Elves.”

“He knows a little about them,” said Orophin. He had been searching the Orc, and now showed what he held in his gloved hand to Aragorn and Glorfindel. “It is a poison, very slow-acting, usually not lethal. One dose of this and an Elf would be too ill to offer resistance.”

Haldir stepped into the circle, his long hair wet with rain. “I propose we track in the direction this creature came from. We may find this ‘Master’.”

Glorfindel nodded. “A good plan. Aragorn, Haldir, Rúmil, come with me. The rest of you return to camp with our dear friend here. Make certain he is put someplace restful; he is going to have a long day with Mistress Straggler tomorrow.”

Orophin watched the four depart, then bent down to lift the half-Orc to his feet. He received a kick in the face for his efforts. He staggered back, swearing, holding his face. Elladan promptly went over to his injured lover.

“Let me see,” he said softly.

Orophin finally dropped his hands and let Elladan look. His lip was badly split, but there was no serious damage. “You’ll be fine, my brave Galadhel. I shall tend to it when we get back home.”

“Aye, his lip and anything else he needs,” said Amrun, hauling the half-Orc to his feet. Elrohir walked up to Amrun and cuffed his ear.

“Mind your manners.”

“He would if he had any,” said Orophin. He put an arm around Elladan and watched the other Elves lead the half-Orc away. Then they began following.

“Your brother seems to have lost interest in Amrun,” said Orophin.

Elladan shook his head. “It was for the best. They are good as friends, but as lovers, they are like fire and ice. So they have chosen to remain friends.” He looked at Orophin and smiled. “I am glad our love has fared better.”

“I would kiss you, if I were not gushing blood.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

Orophin did, kissing him gently, ignoring the pain in his lip. Then he unfurled his cloak to cover Elladan with it. Beneath the cover of the grey Lothlórien cloak, they made their way back to camp.

***---***

The three Elves and one Man followed the half-Orc’s trail, back-tracking through the woods to a narrow and seldom used path. They found the half-Orc’s weary and ill-treated horse tied to a tree, its mouth and flanks bloody. They removed its gear, then told the animal to wait, and they would bring it back to their encampment. The horse moved to a dry spot under a tree to await their return.

“I fear dealing with Mauburz has caused to forget how much I loathe Orcs in general,” said Haldir.

Glorfindel shook his head. “I could never forget. I have rescued Elves from the clutches of Orcs, only to watch them die before my eyes.”

Glorfindel felt Aragorn put an arm around him, and he briefly rest his head on his old friend’s shoulder. “You’re very hairy for an Elf,” Fin said.

“Indeed?”

“Terribly hairy. And smelly.”

Aragorn kissed the end of Fin’s nose. “If I was not very fond of you, I should take exception to being called ‘hairy’.” He raised his head, then peered at something in the dark. “I have not your eyesight. Is that a building?”

Glorfindel looked up. “It is. Methinks we have found our ‘Master’.”

They crept up on the shack, moving stealthily to the windows. Aragorn made his way to the door, while Glorfindel slipped inside and checked for any who may be there.

His booted feet stuck to the dirty floor, and he curled his lip in disgust. He looked around, stepping carefully and silently across the floor. He paused, listening, but heard nothing. It did not seem the building was currently occupied. There was a table in the middle of the dirty room, and he stepped over to it. Piled on its rough and mossy surface were books, scrolls, and two stones. Glorfindel picked one of the stones up and looked at it with interest.

It was of vast age, and its voice was but a bare whisper, almost inaudible to the Elf-Lord. Glorfindel ran his hand over the stone, then tilted it so he could use the moon to see its surface. He lightly traced his fingers over the graven images he saw. A wolf, and three trees, followed by a moon and sun. After that, a bundle of grass and a single line. Glorfindel looked over his shoulder and called; “Haldir! Come read this for me!”

Haldir climbed in through the window. “I was under the impression you could read for yourself.”

Glorfindel showed him the stone. “Not the language of the Plains Elves.”

Haldir took the stone, and smiled. “I know this. The wolf means ‘traveling’. Three trees, that is ‘great forest’. Sun and moon…. It reads ‘traveling many days through great woods’. I am uncertain what the single line means.”

Glorfindel passed him another stone. Haldir took it, and gazed at the array of pictograms. He shook his head. “This is beyond my skill to read. We shall have to get Rabbit to read it for us.”

Aragorn meanwhile had stepped into the room. He reached out to touch one of the black, leather-covered books, then jerked his hand back with a quiet sound of pain. There was a smell of burnt flesh.

“Aragorn, are you all right?” Glorfindel took his hand and looked at the bleeding burn. “My child what happened?”

“The book,” said Aragorn.

Glorfindel looked at the tome. It did not seem to be especially remarkable. It was a rather large book, bound simply in a soft, black leather. Glorfindel used the point of his fighting knife to open the cover.

A stench of carrion wafted from the book, and Glorfindel flinched at the sight of the red glowing letters on the page, shining like hell-fire. The Elf retreated, and Aragorn used the end of his own sword to close the cover.

Aragorn looked towards Glorfindel, and realized the Elf was afraid. He felt his own fear clutch at his throat. He had known Glorfindel his whole life, had in fact traveled many, many miles with him. If Glorfindel was afraid, there was good reason to be.

“This place is cursed,” he said, “We must be out of here. Go! Flee!”

Glorfindel turned to run, then screamed as something punched its way out of the floor. The force of its emergence knocked him off his feet and onto the table. Aragorn smelled the sickly stench of burning flesh, and Glorfindel screamed again. He rolled off the table and landed on his feet, his back a bloody mess. He drew his swords, and stared at the demon before him.

He did not know what it was. Balrogs he had fought, but this was no Balrog. It was smaller, almost dragon-like, and covered with rotted flesh. It opened its gaping jaws and hissed, its dead white eyes fixed on Glorfindel. Then it spoke.

“Ah, mighty one. I have been sent to invite you to the pits. You defy the very gods with your presence. Well the Valar may love you, but I do not!”

“Well one can’t make everybody happy,” said Glorfindel. “Bring your pretty face over here so I can put my sword through it!”

Haldir lunged, determined to drive his sword into the beast’s back. He had nearly reached it, when the thing whipped its tail, striking him hard and sending him across the room. He landed in a heap and did not move.

Aragorn also struck out at the foul creature, but was suddenly caught in a burning spray of some sort of disgusting matter. He pulled back, yanking off his coat and tunic, while the slime sizzled and hissed on his clothes and flesh.

The dragon turned its attention back to Glorfindel, and once more spewed the disgusting slime. Glorfindel darted out of the way, leaping onto the table and swinging his sword at the demon’s snake-like head. The monster avoided his blade, then swung its tail. The tip hit Glorfindel with a sharp ‘snap’, flinging him off the table.

Glorfindel hit the floor and rolled, coming up fast and making straight for the monster’s head. It spewed at him, and Glorfindel side-stepped, deftly sinking the point of his blade into the demon’s shoulder. It screamed horribly, rearing up and flinging itself from side to side to rid itself of the burning Elvish sword. Glorfindel was once more flung to the ground, and once more rolled to his feet, sword at the ready.

Aragorn made his way over to Haldir and picked him up, not liking the way the Elf hung limp in his arms. He carried him over to the window and took him outside. Rúmil knelt beside his brother.

“Haldir!”

“He is not dead,” said Aragorn. “But he is badly wounded.”

“We must help Glorfindel.”

“I will help Glorfindel. Put Haldir on the horse and take him back to the encampment.”

Rúmil plainly wished to help Glorfindel, but knew he was not as skilled a warrior. Finally he nodded. “I will do as you ask.”

Rúmil carried Haldir away, and Aragorn leapt back into the small shack. He only just managed to dodge the swinging tail of the monster, then, with a well-aimed thrust of his sword, stabbed it deep in the hindquarters. The demon screamed and snapped at him, but missed, and Glorfindel took advantage of the distraction to thrust his blade into the breast of the demon. The dragon monster flung its head back, striking Glorfindel with enough force to throw the Elf across the room and into a wall. Aragorn threw his weight against his sword and drove it deeper into the monster, then dodged as it tried to bite him. Enraged, the monster spewed vile, burning acid at him. The thick, slimy liquid struck his arm and burned his flesh, and he fell to the floor, screaming as the meat burned away. Then all the world went black.

Glorfindel stood up, shaking his head. The small demon was focused on Aragorn, and he used the distraction to leap forward and drive his blade into the animal’s throat. There was a great wash of black, stinking blood, and the vile fluid struck him full in the face, blinding him. Glorfindel drew back, wiping the matter out of his eyes, then felt the jaws close about his waist. He was picked up and slammed viciously into the wall several times, the sharp teeth savaging his flesh. Then the demon uttered a moaning wail and fell over sideways, collapsing onto the shattered floor, the Elf still in his jaws. Silence fell within the shack, and for a long time, nothing moved.

***---***

Erestor was sitting on the floor with Lindir, playing a board game. He had briefly been in the common tent with Rhimlan’s children and the five girls, but Rhimlan felt perhaps Lindir was a little old to be sharing the tent with his daughters. Privately, Erestor agreed, but did not say as such to Lindir. Instead, he simply told him he was lonely without Glorfindel and would like the company.

Arwen lounged on the couch, reading one of Erestor’s books on torture techniques and munching grapes. In the bedroom, Estorel and Bramble slept. And, lying before the fire like some great primordial beast, was Rabbit.

Erestor glanced at his cousin, who seemed tense and wary. Periodically he would raise his head and sniff, as though trying to convince himself he was not really smelling what he thought he was smelling. Then, within the last few minutes, he had become restless. He sat up and sniffed again, but said nothing. Erestor hoped it was nothing more than a passing animal.

Lindir moved his piece, then fixed Erestor with his clear blue eyes. Erestor grinned; they had all become very fond of Lindir during the time they had him. He’d had a very sad beginning, but was rapidly blossoming into the Elf they could see him becoming. Despite his child-like mannerisms and extreme innocence about the way the world worked, there was a very sharp mind developing. Erestor had no doubt some day this over-grown child would stand behind the throne of Kings, giving sage advise.

Right now, however, he was on his favorite topic; proving babies came from Mallorn trees.

“Trust me on this, Lindir. Babies do not come from Mallorn trees. If they did, I would not have nearly died in the Great Hall.”

“Well that’s what Nana taught me!”

Erestor sipped his wine, thinking; ‘Yes and that is why we took you from her.’ “Lindir, dear, a baby does not fall from a tree. It grows inside its mother.”

Well how can you be a mother, then? My nana was a girl.”

“I am an exception. Babies normally do grow in a female.”

Lindir gave him a nervous look. “I’m not going to have a baby, am I?”

“I sincerely doubt it. No Lindir, only women, and special Elves like myself and Rabbit can have babies.”

Lindir nodded, then looked down at the game board, the wheels in his mind turning. At last he gave Erestor the sly look that would one day be breaking the hearts of fair lads and lasses everywhere.

“So how does the baby get inside the mother?”

Erestor looked at Lindir and sighed. ‘Why am I always saddled with this task?’ he wondered. He glanced over at Arwen, who was pretending not to notice. He sighed again, and poured himself a little more wine. Then he began calmly and clearly explaining the basic principles to baby-making.

Lindir was horrified.

“That’s disgusting!”

“Ah, it’s not, actually,” said Erestor. “In fact it’s rather nice.”

“And you and Glorfindel have done this once already!?”

Arwen covered her face with her book, giggling. Erestor grinned and sipped his wine. “Well if you want a baby, you will do just about anything Lindir.”

“I suppose you will. But that is… nasty!”

Erestor and Arwen howled with laughter. There came a knock at the door, and Erestor got up to answer it. Elladan stepped into the room, followed by Orophin.

“Orophin! By the Valar are you all right?” Erestor took him by the arm and led him to a chair.

“I am well, Master Erestor,” he said. “It looks far worse than it is.”

Elladan searched the cottage for bandages and healing herbs. Finding both, he seated himself on Orophin’s lap and began tending to his lip.

“Where is Glorfindel?” asked Erestor.

“He, along with Haldir, Estel and Rúmil, went to track the Buyer.”

“So you did not catch him?”

Orophin shook his head. “Nay, we did not. We caught another one of those slinking half-Orcs. Whoever this ‘Buyer’ is, he’s smart enough to not show himself. But Glorfindel shall get him.”

Rabbit raised his head and sniffed, looking puzzled. Lindir looked towards the large Elf.

“What do you smell, Rabbit?”

Rabbit got up and made his way over to Orophin, leaning over him and sniffing. The scent he was tracking was not coming from him. He straightened and held his head high, searching. Elladan and Erestor moved Orophin out of Rabbit’s way as he began to pace.

“It cannot be,’ he said softly.

Elladan put his arms around Orophin’s neck, looking nervous. Erestor stepped closer to the large Elf and tried to calm him, to no avail. Rabbit began pacing faster.

“I must get out of here,” he said.

“No,” said Erestor. “Haldir wants you to stay here.”

Rabbit edged away from Erestor, then paused, sniffing. “No I cannot wait here, I must get out.”

“Rabbit, please. Haldir would be frantic if you were to run off.”

“I have to go!” Rabbit turned to look at Erestor, his yellow eyes wild. “Please, I must! I… I smell them.” He paused, head held high. “I hear them.”

“Smell who? Hear who? Rabbit… SHIT!!”

Rabbit did not wait to debate the matter any longer. He bolted forward, heading straight for the window. Orophin and Elladan tried to head him off, but the large Elf would not be deterred. He leapt, knocking Orophin to the ground, his long, lean body crashing straight through the shuttered window. Then he was gone.

Erestor stood, staring at the window, his hands clasped together and drawn up to his lips. There was nothing they could do to catch Rabbit. Erestor felt his stomach turn. Elladan came to put an arm around him.

“He will be all right, Master Erestor.”

“I sincerely hope so, penneth,” said Erestor quietly.

***---***

It was well past sunrise when the door to the little cottage opened. Erestor had been dozing in a chair, and the familiar sound of the door unlocking awoke him. He raised his head, then gasped.

Glorfindel slowly limped into the cottage, dragging one leg. He appeared dazed, unsteady, and could not seem to figure out how to close the door again. He was soaked with blood.

“Glorfindel?” said Erestor softly. He rose from his chair and walked to his husband.

Glorfindel turned and looked at him, then finally recognized him. “Erestor. Darling one.” He reached out for him, eventually finding his lover’s hands and taking them between his own.

Erestor swallowed the sick knot within his stomach. “Fin? My love, are you all right?”

“No. No I don’t think I am. But... I had to make it home. I had to see you again.”

Erestor felt the tears sliding down his face, understanding that Glorfindel was very, very badly hurt. He looked over his shoulder and screamed; “Elladan!”

Elladan was there in moments, clad only in Orophin’s cape. He took Glorfindel and gently seated him on the couch. He pushed his long, silver-white hair from his face, looking into Glorfindel’s glazed eyes.

“Erestor, go for my father.”

Erestor grabbed his blue cape and ran into the morning light, heading for Elrond’s tent. When he got there, the Elf-Lord was already up and dressed. Erestor flew to him and grasped his arm, tears running down his face. “Please Lord Elrond, you have to come. It’s Fin. Something’s very wrong…”

Elrond kissed Erestor’s face. “All right, dear friend. Calm down.”

“I think he’s dying…”

Elrond hurried out of the tent and made his way quickly to the cottage, Erestor right behind him. They entered the small building, Erestor halting in the doorway as Elrond walked quickly to the limp form collapsed on the couch. He knelt on the floor and gently raised Glorfindel’s head up.

“Elladan, help me carry him to the bed.”

“Elrond!” Erestor was shocked at the hysterical tone in his voice. “Will he be alright?”

Elrond said nothing. He and Elladan carried the limp and bloodied form of the warrior into the room and locked the door.