Title & Chapter Number: Paramour 5/?
Author(s): & - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We do not own any of the characters except Tinuvel. The rest are property of JRR Tolkien and others. This is just for fun, no profit is made... blah blah blah...
Warnings: Devirginizing hot sex between two males.
Betas: EmberVixen and Leanan
Cast: Saelbeth/Tinuvel
Timeline: TA AU
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Young Saelbeth was found as a parentless Elfling and has been raised in Imladris all of his life feeling he belonged with no one until he meets Tinuvel, a healer's apprentice taken to Imladris by Erestor as a favor for an old friend. The two Elflings become fast friends, until one day, Tinuvel's feelings for Saelbeth begin to change. When did his friend suddenly become so attractive. . .and so arousing?
Notes: Tinuvel is entirely Leanan's creation. Enjoy him. He's a hottie. Hehehehe..... And as for Saelbeth, he is a non-canon character, so I made him like I see him. And I see him this way. He rocks.
Erestor strolled casually up the stairs, his steps purposeful yet unhurried. So, the apprentice healer to Imladris saw fit not only to languish in his own self-depreciating grief, but was also bearing a hefty bundle of denial along with it. This was all too easily solved, for Erestor himself had been there on many occasions. Tinuvel merely required a bit of. . .coaxing.
Advisor style. . .
Knocking briskly upon the door to the young healer’s chambers, Erestor called sweetly to him. “Oooh, Tinuvel? It is I, Lord Erestor. Are you awake, mellon?”
No answer greeted his mellifluous inquiry. That was expected. Rather than wait politely to be invited in, Erestor practically threw the door open and waltzed inside, not bothering to glance at the fetal lump upon the bed.
“Rise and shine, pen-neth!” he sang out, crossing the room in several quick strides to where the healer had the curtains tightly drawn so that not the scantest peal of light could enter.
The lump did not stir.
Erestor snorted, grasping the ornate rope that dangled near the heavy drapes and gave it a hefty yank. Light flooded the room, sending the darkness scurrying into the far recesses of shadow.
Still, the form had not budged. Erestor cocked his head to one side slowly. No, this simply would not do!
Strolling to the end of the bed, he grabbed both ends of the heavy blankets that shrouded the healer and snatched them away, tossing them to the ground with a flourish.
“I said get up!” the advisor bellowed. “Do not make me drag you away from that pallet by your ankles, because, Valar help me, I will!”
Tinuvel grasped furiously at the coverlets that had been shielding him from the world as they were unceremoniously removed from his body. A glaring stream of light blinded him to the purveyor of the rude awakening, but the lilting gypsy accent gave the healer no doubt as to whom had disturbed his seclusion.
"You wouldn’t dare....." snapped the annoyed healer, disregarding the respect that Erestor’s position in the household should have demanded from him.
Pulling his arm up to shield his eyes from the irritating sunlight, Tinuvel moaned out loud and turned onto his belly, blocking out both the sun and the meddling Advisor.
Erestor merely arched a brow. “Do not doubt my voracity,” he said smoothly, his hands clasping around the healer’s ankles, giving his body a sound jerk, managing to first pull away most of Tinuvel’s nightclothes before yanking his body across the mattress and onto the unforgiving stone of the floor.
“You will not play the insolent, piteous child with me, young one!” Erestor snapped before stripping away the bottoms of his pants completely and tossing them aside.
For a moment, he eyed the semi-naked healer appreciatively. “Well, well. . .I can see why Saelbeth adores you so.”
Before the healer could comprehend what had happened he found himself sprawled upon his arse on the cold stone floor , blinking incredulously at the smirking Lord.
Instinctively Tinuvel’s hands came to cover his maleness as he struggled upright , his back pressed against the night table.
" Illuvatar's Balls..... Erestor......can you all not just let me be....." Tinuvel reached for the discarded bedclothes in a ridiculously modest attempt to cover himself.
" Saelbeth is better off forgetting about me..." , mumbled the healer, not wanting to engage the Advisor further for he suddenly recalled the last time he had addled the dark Lord and thought better of it.
"Lord Erestor, surely you have better things to do than house clean my rooms," spouted the healer as he inched his ways towards his breeches.
“Oh, well I am certain I could think of something else to do,” Erestor said, his voice holding an air of boredom as he casually kicked Tinuvel’s breeches further across the floor. “Perhaps young Saelbeth could assist me in my quest for adventure.”
The advisor glanced over his shoulder with a wicked smile. “It would not be the first time.” He swept closer to the scrambling healer, his tone honeyed and wistful. “You are right, Tinuvel. He is much better off in my embrace than yours. Although I cannot imagine you soon forgetting the taste of that eager mouth upon your own.” Erestor frowned momentarily, his lips then curving into a self-righteous smirk. “Pity.”
Tinuvel winced as his sleeping attire skittered further across the room, instead wrapping a bedsheet around his waist before pulling himself to an unsteady upright position. Bracing himself against the nightstand and gingerly sidestepping his scattered meal, the healer sat heavily back down upon the bed, his knees suddenly weak .
"He deserves better than I, Heru....." Tinuvel closed his eyes, his head spinning both from the effort of moving and the images of his lover in the Advisor's arms. His lover? Not any more...
Tinuvel brought his hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palms.
"Do what you will Erestor..." The healer turned his face towards the wall and picked at a bit of stucco from its surface, trying his best to act unaffected.
"I care not......"
Tinuvel swallowed hard, refusing to look at the beautiful Lord.
“Oh yes, I can see that you care for very little, Tinuvel,” Erestor sneered. “I must say that I have never met a more selfish Elf in my life. Here you lie, languishing in your own self pity, casting yourself into the pit of despair. And of course, none of us care for you either. Not the one that you love so fiercely that even to speak his name sets your heart afire, not the Elven Lord who saved you from falling into darkness and certainly not myself for dragging your pathetic arse out of bed and forcing you to feel something other than self-loathing.”
Crouching beside the sullen healer, he said, “I have watched my kinsman die in battle. I have held lovers in my arms and watched the light fade from their eyes and I have wept bitterly for the waste of their innocence during senseless war. Do not speak to me as if I know nothing of the pain of the death, young one. I have seen it. . .tasted its lips upon my own, yet I did not choose to fade. My life has more purpose than that. Arrogant and haughty I may be, but I am not nearly so selfish as you are.”
Rising to his feet, he patted Tinuvel upon the head once. “And the most tragic lesson of all, young one, is learning that in order to be a healer, one must first heal thyself. Now, if you will excuse me. . . I have a grieving archer to comfort. It seems as if some foolish Elf has toyed with his heart while keeping his own selfishly locked away. Good day to you.”
Tinuvel sat stone still upon the bed, only a slight tremble acknowledging the fact that he still lived and breathed. He had steeled himself for a battle with Erestor, but was totally unprepared for the advisor to open his heart to him. The Elf’s words had struck him hard with their honesty and for the first time in days, the healer had to question his actions.
He was selfish....He had not even given anyone’s feelings but his own any weight in the matter. All that concerned him was ridding himself of the guilt. Elrond had had told him that he was not to blame for the child's death and he had thought to believe him. He had wanted to believe him with all his heart. The child had drawn him into her world and he had forfeited to her what he should have prized far beyond his own life. The love of another.
Tinuvel’s head drooped down on his shoulders and fresh tears moistened his cheeks as he reached deep within himself towards the small flicker of warmth that was his love. Saelbeth still lived within him, that had not changed. The healer sighed and dashed at the tears that had shown themselves far to often during the last few days. He had been so caught up in his own pain that he had not even given any thought to Saelbeth’s anguish.
"Perhaps Erestor is right," he sniffed, self pity trying to rise again. " Perhaps Saelbeth would fare better with another," The very thought made the Elf’s whole body shake with sobs. No.......He could not bear to see his love, his heart ,enamoured of another.
A searing heat spread over the healers chest and he gasped at the intensity of the emotion that it heralded. How could he have denied this? Was it too late?
Tinuvel pushed himself to stand, the sheet falling from his body to tangle in his feet as he tried to move forward. Stumbling, the healer steadied himself against the wall, the cool of the plastered surface a comfort to his suddenly flushed skin. He needed to heal, and there was only one person in all of Arda who could help him.
Slowly, Tinuvel pulled on what clothing he could find within the small room, and after uprighting the tray of food that he had so carelessly tossed aside, went in search of the one who held his heart for it indeed he had been careless there as well.
The fairness of the sky over Imladris gave the impression of a summer day, but he chill in the breeze that lifted Tinuvel’s hair from his shoulders spoke clearly of winter's kiss. Wrapping a quickly donned cloak tighter about his shoulders, the healer shivered slightly, the physical effort of walking about on his own and the sheer emotional exhaustion of the last few days having drained almost all of his stamina.
A few well placed benches along the pathways in the courtyard proved their usefulness, allowing Tinuvel the opportunity to rest before continuing his search. He really for all intensive purposes had no idea where the Elf might be, and in all honesty had the healer been in Saelbeth’s boots he would have possibly left Rivendell altogether.
It was however Erestor’s parting comment that pushed him further along the path towards the courtyard. If anyone was to meet in Imladris, it would be there for almost all paths intersected within the columned square.
Many were about this day, bustling here and there, some nodding in Tinuvel's direction and others too caught up in their own daily drama barely noting his passing. Of that , the healer was grateful, for the breeze had stirred up more than just the leaves upon the ground reminding the usually scrubbed healer that he was well overdue for a bath.
Upon reaching the square, the young Elf practically fell into the first bench he saw with an exhausted groan. Perhaps he should have waited to see if the archer would return to his room rather than traipse about all of Imladris, but Tinuvel could not take the chance that Saelbeth would forgive him after all the horrid things he had said. The healer shut his eyes and held his head in his hands quite unsure that he would ever lay eyes upon his lover again.
A familiar baritone ,its measured tone rising and falling with casual ease, floated to the healer's ears as he sat reclaiming his breath. Only one within these walls could own such a silken and genuine chuckle and Tinuvel knew before he opened his eyes that the Lord of Imladris strolled the path. More voices joined that of the Elven Lord, chiming in at various intervals the healer would have let them pass had one of them not struck his heart to beat madly in his chest at its mere intonation.
Tinuvel hesitated opening his eyes lest his ears be betraying him, for he doubted that he could bear the disappointment without breaking down, but as the entourage of Elves drew nearer his fear faded to relief. Saelbeth held Elrond’s ear and was most courtly in his attention to the Elven Lord, speaking and moving with him as if he quite belonged at the ruler's side even capturing the Lord Glorfindel and Erestor's rapt attention.
The healer brushed away the tousled hair that trailed across his vision, taking in the graceful poise that the archer exuded, with a shuddering intake of breath. Simply attired in breeches and tunic of deep blue, his hair down and unadorned, Saelbeth seemed to shine brighter than even the illustrious beauties of Imladris that he attended.
Quite unobtrusive in his drab tunic and cloak, Tinuvel rose from the bench and made his way towards the regal group. Stopping a few yards away from the gesturing archer, the healer took a deep breath steeling himself to the possibility that Saelbeth would push him away or even worse ignore him completely, both actions well deserved.
Without so much as word in greeting to the gathered Elders, the healer approached the Elf in question and placed a pale hand upon his shoulder. As an unsuspecting Saelbeth turned, his eyes wide in surprise, Tinuvel drew him tightly into his embrace and buried his face within the familiar fragrance of the Elf’s hair.
"Forgive me..." The soft words fell from the from the healers lips in a hushed whisper, intended only for the archers ears.
Saelbeth stiffened in shock as the healer enveloped him in his arms, a moment of indecision startling him into silence until Tinuvel’s words reached his ears. . .and his heart.
“Meleth,” he murmured, returning the embrace at last, perhaps more tightly than he had intended. “There is nothing to forgive, my gentle one. . .”
Before the healer could speak, Saelbeth silenced him with a kiss, unable to refrain from conveying openly the intensity of the passion that bloomed within him.
“I have missed you,” he said, the quiver etching his voice betraying the overwhelming emotion that flooded through his body. “Do not leave my side again, Tinuvel. I do not think my heart could bear it. . .”
" Nor mine," replied the healer, one hand wrapping tightly with in the silk of the archers hair, the other grasping a handful of the soft tunic with possessive urgency. Tinuvel’s lips sought out the comfort of Saelbeth’s mouth , and with no concern for his public display, he poured out his denied passion in a long lingering , and completely shameless kiss.
“My, but they do make me long for my youth,” Erestor said, looking to Lord Elrond with a sly wink, but the Elven ruler did not miss the look of wistful satisfaction that accompanied it.
“So it would seem. . .Advisor,” Elrond replied with a smile, stressing the title as if it now held far more significance than it had previously. “Come,” he said quietly to his companions. “Let us speak elsewhere.”
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