Navigation

Gohen: Redemption

Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel

chapter five

Seattle, Washington, 2004

"Why did you never speak of this, Erestor?" Maglor asked as Erestor finished his tale. He gazed at Erestor's long fingers, stroking the palm of his lover's hand with his thumb. "Why did you carry this sorrow alone?"

Erestor chuckled mirthlessly. "You could not ease my heart, Maglor. By not telling you, I was able to just... forget it. Never speak of him, never think of him..." he trailed off.

Maglor looked at both of Erestor's hands and his brow furrowed. "I do not remember you ever wearing a band. Where is it?"

"I took it off before I reached Spain," the younger Elf said simply.

"Where is it now?"

Erestor's dark eyes swept to the small jewelry box on their dresser. Maglor released Erestor hands and slowly walked to the mahogany box. He opened it and shifted some of the items around; his eyes became wide when he found what he was seeking. Maglor lifted the heavy mithril ring from the velvet box and brought it to the bed. He turned the intricate ring over in his hands, amazed at the detail and craftsmanship shown in the small band.

"It was all that he had left of Gondolin," Erestor said quietly. "He said that Rog, Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath, had it crafted as a gift for the bright Chief Glorfindel. Ecthelion had one similar, encrusted with glittering diamonds."

The band shimmered with topaz, diamond and emerald, creating a domed golden glower surrounded by green leaves. It was beautiful. "Why do you not wear it?" Maglor asked.

Erestor brought his stormy eyes level with Maglor's. "How could I? A daily reminder of what I lost."

"No! It is a daily reminder of what you had. Something so precious and sacred; do not let it go because there is pain associated with it." Maglor took Erestor's left hand and slid the band onto the ring finger. "Though it is not our custom to wear such things upon this finger, I believe this century demands a slight change in our ways. Wear it, Erestor. Think of him. He loved you; how could you wish to forget that?"

The librarian looked at his hand, adorned once again with Glorfindel's mark. Glorfindel. He had not spoken the name in over three hundred years. Maglor tenderly cupped Erestor's cheek and brought their lips together in a sweet, loving kiss. Erestor opened his mouth, inviting Maglor to deepen the kiss, which the elder Noldo happily did.

They shed their clothing, their touches light and hesitant. Though Maglor had taken Erestor to bed thousands of times, this time felt much different.

Maglor knew it was not him Erestor saw, thought of as his body was breached and filled. Though Erestor clung to him, cried out and writhed under his hands, Maglor knew it was a golden ghost Erestor saw behind his closed eyes. He took Erestor carefully, gently, nipping and suckling at lips, chin, neck, shoulders. Maglor did not speak, just gazed at the dark beauty he had bound to him in darkness.

He pressed their bodies close, his belly offering Erestor the necessary friction to slowly move toward his completion. Maglor brushed his lips over the high, proud cheekbones and lightly kissed the tip of Erestor's nose. He rarely watched Erestor closely when the coupled. Their trysts were typically hard, fast, furious and rolling in the euphoria of their feeding. To not have a mortal's lust roiling in their blood, spurring them on, was a rarity and Maglor gazed lovingly down at his bed partner.

That Glorfindel had loved Erestor for so long was of no surprise to Maglor. That Erestor had been determined to put that love from his mind had been. Maglor thrust deeply, groaning as Erestor arched beneath him, the younger vampire's muscles fluttering around his length. "Bright and shining, gold and sapphires," Maglor murmured against Erestor's temple. "Your light, his darkness."

Erestor whimpered. "Do not speak of him."

"Come with his name on your lips, Erestor," Maglor encouraged, lapping at Erestor's lips.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

Erestor shook his head, his chin trembling.

"If you do not, I will stop, Erestor. I will leave you like this. I know your thoughts turn to him now, to the memory of his girth within you, not mine. Call his name." Maglor pumped inside the confines of Erestor's body with more force, lying heavily above his lover. The younger Noldo's erection pressed hotly into Maglor's belly and he felt it swell further. "His name."

Erestor arced sharply, his lips parting as he spilled his seed between their bodies. "Glorfindel!" he cried out, the name a raw and bleeding wound upon Erestor's soul.

Maglor groaned and buried himself to the hilt, his own orgasm shuddering through him. He held Erestor tight to him as the Elf cried, centuries of mourning rushing in and swallowing Erestor completely in sorrowful memory.

The sun was low in the sky and the room was bathed in reds and oranges when Erestor finally raised his swollen eyes from Maglor's shoulder. "I have never asked. Was there a great love in your life, melethen?" he inquired softly, running the pad of his thumb over Maglor's full lower lip.

The grey eyes closed for a moment, hiding the pain briefly from Erestor's keen gaze. When he opened them again, Erestor was still watching him. He answered honestly. "Aye. I had a great love."

"Did he love you?"

"Aye, he did. And I him. Deeply and completely we loved one another," Maglor said sadly.

Erestor nuzzled Maglor's neck, cuddling closer to the broad body. "What happened?"

Maglor was silent for long moments and Erestor thought he would not answer. "What had to happen. His destiny was separate from mine and we parted ways long ago, before the earth changed."

In the late afternoon sunlight, bound together in grief, they held each other, lost in their memories.

David sipped his tea, his eyes scanning the small, cozy room. His father, Graham Selman, stood near the open sliding glass door leading out to a patio, drinking his beer and staring at his son. The other three men in the room watched him just as closely.

Terry, his uncle, sat in an easy chair, his brown eyes dark and hard as he regarded his nephew. His uncle had never been fond of him; he had even thought Graham was insane when he brought David to his first meeting. But, David was smart, and he proved himself time and time again to the group. He had even gone so far as to receive his Masters in History, studying any and all areas of the world. His skills were now invaluable, but Terry would never admit such a thing.

On the small loveseat sat Michael and Eric. Michael was a fifty-year-old businessman; he was powerful, influential, and his money backed their little 'organization'. Eric was his smartass son, barely twenty-two, who was afforded more respect and consideration than David was -- and David was seven years older than Eric. They had known each other from a very early age, but they had never been, and would never be, friends.

"I can only see one course of action," Terry finally said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "David has to leave Seattle. Now that they know of him, have tasted him, he cannot continue to observe them. He will give us away."

David gazed at him in shock. "Leave Seattle?" he asked, looking to his father who was nodding.

Graham finished his beer and tossed it into the trashcan. "You can't stay here, son. I mean, what good is an observer who can't observe? No, you should go to Spokane and stay with your Mom until they move on."

"Dad! I am not going to pack up and move in with Mom. I have a job, an apartment, friends... I am not going to be shuffled off to Spokane because I happened to make contact with them," David insisted.

Michael cleared his throat and sat forward a bit in his seat. "David, it is not wise to remain here. They know where you live--"

"Yes! They do. And I know where they live. Hell, we know every move they have made over the past one-hundred and fifty years! And we know that because I found out. Not your money, Michael; not your connections, Dad; and not your family histories, Terry. We know what we know because I searched, I scoured, and I spent endless years finding their trail." David stood and glared at his father. "I will not be sent away because I dared what none of you would."

Eric scoffed. "As if you did something amazing. You walked into a gay club, David. You let them seduce you and then bite you. What is so noble about that?"

"David," Graham began, eyeing his son suspiciously. "Why did you seek them out, and what exactly happened?"

He knew his face was flushed, and he would not meet anyone's gaze. "I wanted more than logical observation," David said hesitantly. "I want to know them; I want to know what they have seen and experienced. So, naturally, I went to Marcus' club. Vincent hit on me; I invited them back to the loft and..." he trailed off. He could not finish his statement. No one knew he was gay, and this was not the venue to announce it.

"And what?" Eric prompted viciously.

"Yes, what, David," his father urged, though David could see the cloud that had passed over Graham's face. His father had a pretty good idea.

David swallowed visibly. "We had sex," he said simply.

Terry choked on his drink. "You didn't like it, did you?"

"Actually, I did," David admitted, finally meeting his father's eyes. "They weren't my first, if that's what you are wondering," he said softly.

Graham cleared his throat. "You will go to Spokane, David," he said calmly. "You will not argue with me, and we will discuss this later."

"No, Dad. We will not discuss this later. There is nothing to discuss. I am gay, and I will not move from Seattle," David said firmly.

"Do not disobey me," Graham said in a low voice.

David lifted his chin defiantly. "I am twenty-nine, Dad. You can't just order me about. I have done your dirty work, and I find them fascinating. I will see them again, and I will learn whatever they are willing to teach."

Michael stood. "If you do not agree to move to Spokane, you will no longer be welcome in this circle."

"As if I ever was," David said bitterly. He walked to the door. "I am keeping my research, and I will be moving. Don't try to find me. Hell," he sneered, "I doubt the four of you could find an elephant in a bookstore. What am I worried about?"

David slammed the door and quickly made it to his car. He sat in the plush interior, his mind whirling. No longer would his every move be dictated by the group; he was now free to pursue Marcus and Vincent to his heart's content.

He smiled to himself as he started the car, backing out of the driveway and heading toward the loft. His heart raced in his chest and he fidgeted as he drove. The sun would not set for hours yet, but David was eager for night to come.

Tonight, he would visit Melindor again.


	Navigation multi-story arcs previous next		Gohen: Redemption Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel chapter five Seattle, Washington, 2004 "Why did you never speak of this, Erestor?" Maglor asked as Erestor finished his tale. He gazed at Erestor's long fingers, stroking the palm of his lover's hand with his thumb. "Why did you carry this sorrow alone?" Erestor chuckled mirthlessly. "You could not ease my heart, Maglor. By not telling you, I was able to just... forget it. Never speak of him, never think of him..." he trailed off. Maglor looked at both of Erestor's hands and his brow furrowed. "I do not remember you ever wearing a band. Where is it?" "I took it off before I reached Spain," the younger Elf said simply. "Where is it now?" Erestor's dark eyes swept to the small jewelry box on their dresser. Maglor released Erestor hands and slowly walked to the mahogany box. He opened it and shifted some of the items around; his eyes became wide when he found what he was seeking. Maglor lifted the heavy mithril ring from the velvet box and brought it to the bed. He turned the intricate ring over in his hands, amazed at the detail and craftsmanship shown in the small band. "It was all that he had left of Gondolin," Erestor said quietly. "He said that Rog, Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath, had it crafted as a gift for the bright Chief Glorfindel. Ecthelion had one similar, encrusted with glittering diamonds." The band shimmered with topaz, diamond and emerald, creating a domed golden glower surrounded by green leaves. It was beautiful. "Why do you not wear it?" Maglor asked. Erestor brought his stormy eyes level with Maglor's. "How could I? A daily reminder of what I lost." "No! It is a daily reminder of what you had. Something so precious and sacred; do not let it go because there is pain associated with it." Maglor took Erestor's left hand and slid the band onto the ring finger. "Though it is not our custom to wear such things upon this finger, I believe this century demands a slight change in our ways. Wear it, Erestor. Think of him. He loved you; how could you wish to forget that?" The librarian looked at his hand, adorned once again with Glorfindel's mark. Glorfindel. He had not spoken the name in over three hundred years. Maglor tenderly cupped Erestor's cheek and brought their lips together in a sweet, loving kiss. Erestor opened his mouth, inviting Maglor to deepen the kiss, which the elder Noldo happily did. They shed their clothing, their touches light and hesitant. Though Maglor had taken Erestor to bed thousands of times, this time felt much different. Maglor knew it was not him Erestor saw, thought of as his body was breached and filled. Though Erestor clung to him, cried out and writhed under his hands, Maglor knew it was a golden ghost Erestor saw behind his closed eyes. He took Erestor carefully, gently, nipping and suckling at lips, chin, neck, shoulders. Maglor did not speak, just gazed at the dark beauty he had bound to him in darkness. He pressed their bodies close, his belly offering Erestor the necessary friction to slowly move toward his completion. Maglor brushed his lips over the high, proud cheekbones and lightly kissed the tip of Erestor's nose. He rarely watched Erestor closely when the coupled. Their trysts were typically hard, fast, furious and rolling in the euphoria of their feeding. To not have a mortal's lust roiling in their blood, spurring them on, was a rarity and Maglor gazed lovingly down at his bed partner. That Glorfindel had loved Erestor for so long was of no surprise to Maglor. That Erestor had been determined to put that love from his mind had been. Maglor thrust deeply, groaning as Erestor arched beneath him, the younger vampire's muscles fluttering around his length. "Bright and shining, gold and sapphires," Maglor murmured against Erestor's temple. "Your light, his darkness." Erestor whimpered. "Do not speak of him." "Come with his name on your lips, Erestor," Maglor encouraged, lapping at Erestor's lips. "I can't." "Yes, you can." Erestor shook his head, his chin trembling. "If you do not, I will stop, Erestor. I will leave you like this. I know your thoughts turn to him now, to the memory of his girth within you, not mine. Call his name." Maglor pumped inside the confines of Erestor's body with more force, lying heavily above his lover. The younger Noldo's erection pressed hotly into Maglor's belly and he felt it swell further. "His name." Erestor arced sharply, his lips parting as he spilled his seed between their bodies. "Glorfindel!" he cried out, the name a raw and bleeding wound upon Erestor's soul. Maglor groaned and buried himself to the hilt, his own orgasm shuddering through him. He held Erestor tight to him as the Elf cried, centuries of mourning rushing in and swallowing Erestor completely in sorrowful memory. The sun was low in the sky and the room was bathed in reds and oranges when Erestor finally raised his swollen eyes from Maglor's shoulder. "I have never asked. Was there a great love in your life, melethen?" he inquired softly, running the pad of his thumb over Maglor's full lower lip. The grey eyes closed for a moment, hiding the pain briefly from Erestor's keen gaze. When he opened them again, Erestor was still watching him. He answered honestly. "Aye. I had a great love." "Did he love you?" "Aye, he did. And I him. Deeply and completely we loved one another," Maglor said sadly. Erestor nuzzled Maglor's neck, cuddling closer to the broad body. "What happened?" Maglor was silent for long moments and Erestor thought he would not answer. "What had to happen. His destiny was separate from mine and we parted ways long ago, before the earth changed." In the late afternoon sunlight, bound together in grief, they held each other, lost in their memories. David sipped his tea, his eyes scanning the small, cozy room. His father, Graham Selman, stood near the open sliding glass door leading out to a patio, drinking his beer and staring at his son. The other three men in the room watched him just as closely. Terry, his uncle, sat in an easy chair, his brown eyes dark and hard as he regarded his nephew. His uncle had never been fond of him; he had even thought Graham was insane when he brought David to his first meeting. But, David was smart, and he proved himself time and time again to the group. He had even gone so far as to receive his Masters in History, studying any and all areas of the world. His skills were now invaluable, but Terry would never admit such a thing. On the small loveseat sat Michael and Eric. Michael was a fifty-year-old businessman; he was powerful, influential, and his money backed their little 'organization'. Eric was his smartass son, barely twenty-two, who was afforded more respect and consideration than David was -- and David was seven years older than Eric. They had known each other from a very early age, but they had never been, and would never be, friends. "I can only see one course of action," Terry finally said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "David has to leave Seattle. Now that they know of him, have tasted him, he cannot continue to observe them. He will give us away." David gazed at him in shock. "Leave Seattle?" he asked, looking to his father who was nodding. Graham finished his beer and tossed it into the trashcan. "You can't stay here, son. I mean, what good is an observer who can't observe? No, you should go to Spokane and stay with your Mom until they move on." "Dad! I am not going to pack up and move in with Mom. I have a job, an apartment, friends... I am not going to be shuffled off to Spokane because I happened to make contact with them," David insisted. Michael cleared his throat and sat forward a bit in his seat. "David, it is not wise to remain here. They know where you live--" "Yes! They do. And I know where they live. Hell, we know every move they have made over the past one-hundred and fifty years! And we know that because I found out. Not your money, Michael; not your connections, Dad; and not your family histories, Terry. We know what we know because I searched, I scoured, and I spent endless years finding their trail." David stood and glared at his father. "I will not be sent away because I dared what none of you would." Eric scoffed. "As if you did something amazing. You walked into a gay club, David. You let them seduce you and then bite you. What is so noble about that?" "David," Graham began, eyeing his son suspiciously. "Why did you seek them out, and what exactly happened?" He knew his face was flushed, and he would not meet anyone's gaze. "I wanted more than logical observation," David said hesitantly. "I want to know them; I want to know what they have seen and experienced. So, naturally, I went to Marcus' club. Vincent hit on me; I invited them back to the loft and..." he trailed off. He could not finish his statement. No one knew he was gay, and this was not the venue to announce it. "And what?" Eric prompted viciously. "Yes, what, David," his father urged, though David could see the cloud that had passed over Graham's face. His father had a pretty good idea. David swallowed visibly. "We had sex," he said simply. Terry choked on his drink. "You didn't like it, did you?" "Actually, I did," David admitted, finally meeting his father's eyes. "They weren't my first, if that's what you are wondering," he said softly. Graham cleared his throat. "You will go to Spokane, David," he said calmly. "You will not argue with me, and we will discuss this later." "No, Dad. We will not discuss this later. There is nothing to discuss. I am gay, and I will not move from Seattle," David said firmly. "Do not disobey me," Graham said in a low voice. David lifted his chin defiantly. "I am twenty-nine, Dad. You can't just order me about. I have done your dirty work, and I find them fascinating. I will see them again, and I will learn whatever they are willing to teach." Michael stood. "If you do not agree to move to Spokane, you will no longer be welcome in this circle." "As if I ever was," David said bitterly. He walked to the door. "I am keeping my research, and I will be moving. Don't try to find me. Hell," he sneered, "I doubt the four of you could find an elephant in a bookstore. What am I worried about?" David slammed the door and quickly made it to his car. He sat in the plush interior, his mind whirling. No longer would his every move be dictated by the group; he was now free to pursue Marcus and Vincent to his heart's content. He smiled to himself as he started the car, backing out of the driveway and heading toward the loft. His heart raced in his chest and he fidgeted as he drove. The sun would not set for hours yet, but David was eager for night to come. Tonight, he would visit Melindor again.