“Please, I must know you will be alright without me here.” Galadriel stood on the dock with Celeborn, her arms loosely draped around his neck and his encircling her waist. “I cannot bear to think of you being so sad while I am gone.”

“And you. Will you not be lonely?” He kissed her forehead. “You ask me to take a lover while I am here, but what of yourself?”

“We both know I am beyond those needs,” she whispered. In fact, it was true- many centuries had passed since they had felt the need to even sleep in the same bed, let alone make love to one another. It was not Celeborn’s choice, but he respected his wife and her desires, or lack thereof. “I give you leave until such time as you seek to return to me.” With a wink she added, “I know you will.”

How true again, for they were quite the intellectual and spiritual match for one another. “I wish not to disgrace you,” he told her.

“You will be discrete, just as Elrond has.” There was a sparkle in her eyes as Celeborn gave her a questioning look. “Have you not known? Since our dear daguther’s departure, he has kept close to his side his chief counsel. The advisor has been more than confidant to him since Celebrian’s crossing of the sea.”

- * -

Still on shore, Elrond checked over the items in the satchel he had before closing it again. “I assure you,” spoke the soft voice belong to the elf beside him, “I have packed all you will need for your journey.”

“I still believe I am missing something.” Grasping hold of Erestor’s shoulder, he pleaded one final time. “Sail west. Come with me to Valinor.”

Erestor’s answer was simple. “I do not hear the call.” He handed Elrond a book, hidden in the fold of his robe until then. “From my collection; it was Celebrian’s favorite. I know she would want it.”

Taking the book, Elrond felt tears prick his eyes. Drawing Erestor into an embrace, he found nothing more to think to say to convince his friend and lover to follow him. They had said their less formal farewells earlier, and with an exchange of smiles, Erestor said, “Go now, El-nin. They are waiting for you.”

The last call to board was given with many tearful goodbyes. As the ship drifted from the dock, those ashore departed as well – either back to their work in Mithlond or down the paths which had brought them here – until all that remained was a silver-haired elf lord sighing to the waves and the dark elven scribe who watched him with sadness.

- * -

Someone touched Celeborn on the shoulder, and he expected it to be one of the sailors. When he turned to find Elrond’s counselor, he bowed his head in formal greeting, which Erestor returned. “Counselor Erestor.”

“Lord Celeborn.” As he said this, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and stepped closer. Raising it up, Celeborn flinched when Erestor touched it to his face gently. It was then that he realized he had been crying, and he relaxed as the darker elf tried again. “You miss her already,” observed Erestor, wiping the tears from Celeborn’s cheeks. Another sigh escaped Celeborn, but he did not answer as the cloth was handed to him.

“I know what it is,” spoke Erestor. “You are torn between the two things you love the most- your realm, and your wife. You feel you betray one to stay with the other.”

Celeborn closed his eyes and nodded. “The memories... I will think of her constantly. But if I leave, I shall not sleep as I will worry about Lothlorien. How can I abandon my people there?”

“Someone said those very words to me some years ago,” mused Erestor in his soft voice. Celeborn found it calming him with every word spoken. Looking up at the darkening skies, Erestor said, “Walk with me, m’lord.”

Celeborn complied, and the pair strolled down the shore of the rising sea, the moon’s slow arrival harkening the tide. For a while they shared a peaceful silence, until Erestor made what to Celeborn was a not very unexpected proposition. “If you find yourself... in need... of someone to talk to... or if you simply... need someone,” said Erestor, lingering on these last two words, “I am at your disposal.”

“Thank you, Erestor, but-“

“Celeborn, I insist,” he said firmly. “If you need anything, anything at all...” Erestor looked to Celeborn, to be sure his meaning was not lost, “be not afraid to call upon me.”

Celeborn chose his words carefully. “Erestor, I do not wish to take advantage of you.”

“M’lord, it would be no bother. Gladly, I would-“

“Erestor.” Celeborn stopped suddenly in his tracks. “I have no desire to bed you, nor will it relieve me of my sorrow.”

“I see,” said Erestor, his voice retaining the soothing calm. “Well... I bid you a good night, m’lord,” he said, bowing before walking away.

Turning around, he called out down the beach, “The offer remains on the table, should you ever reconsider.” He turned again, and in a few minutes, was out of sight.

- * -
“Oh... my... goodness...” Celeborn’s eyelids were drooping and he bowed his head, panting heavily. Erestor rubbed the silvery elf’s back with the heels of his feet, for his legs were bent over the elf lord’s shoulders.

“Just wait until you move,” he purred, clenching his muscles around the length that had breached him. Celeborn groaned, and dug his fingers into Erestor’s shoulder blades.

Once more he moaned when Erestor moved his hips a little. “I swear, I shall die if I move. You’re so, so tight. Feels so... ugh... oh, so, good...”

“And you said you would hate it,” Erestor reminded him.

“I never said that,” Celeborn corrected him. “Never, ever said that,” he repeated, and thrust two quick times without really pulling out to really get the words across, grunting each time. “Oh, I will die if I start moving, I just know it.”


The years had been difficult ones for them both. Imladris had cleared out, and Erestor was left as the sole sentinel of the realm, keeping the house in order as best he could until the twins returned from their adventuring to either claim it or sail west. Miles away, Celeborn had moved his realm into Mirkwood when the mellyrn began to die, but eventually his people decided to either join Thranduil’s realm where the caves afforded better protection and a richer style of living, or to cross the sea.

Sending a letter to Imladris, Celeborn told his grandsons he was becoming weary of life in Middle-earth and would linger a short time with them in Rivendell, sailing with them if they so chose or remaining until they had made their choice and staying with them if they chose mortality. A simple summons beckoned him to come to the Last Homely House, but he was surprised when he arrived to find the place nearly empty and very quiet.


“Good evening, m’lord. You have been expected.” Erestor bowed low in greeting. “May I take your cloak?”

“My... yes, thank you... where is everyone?” asked Celeborn.

Erestor brushed the snow from the green riding cloak and hung it on the hook by the door, on which a sparse assortment of only his own overclothing and a scarf that belonged to Elladan hung. “Oh, I really do not know. I suppose most of them are in Valimar, though a few may have settled in Alqualonde, or on Tol Eressea. I would bet against the Helcaraxe- terrible weather there, I hear.” He turned around to find Celeborn standing in the doorway with his mouth gaping open. “Something the matter?” he asked as he ushered him further into the hall and shut the doors against the cold winds and the wisps of snow they were dragging over the courtyard.

“Do you mean to tell me that everyone else has sailed?” asked Celeborn as he followed Erestor up the main staircase to the second floor, and down the hall to the left where the Hall of Fire was. He took note of the overall darkness of the house, and the lack of noise. “Where are my grandsons?”

“In Rohan by now,” replied Erestor. “This time of year they like to spend in the horse country. They will be back in the spring as usual. They spent the autumn in Gondor with their sister, and the summer in Ithilien with Legolas.” The door was open to the grand hall already, and the fire was ablaze as it always was. It was an eerie sight, for the hall to be alight with no one there, flickering across the tapestries that hung from the walls, with no one standing about or lounging on a bench or a chair to enjoy them, the wine that so freely flowed, or the music so often heard. There was nothing, except the crackle of the wood as it burned while they silently walked to the fire.

Sitting down near the warmth of the fire, but keeping clear away from the flames, Celeborn removed his boots and set them close for them to dry. “Erestor, if my grandchildren have not been here for near a year, who invited me to Imladris? Was it you?”

“Certainly not. I am only Seneschal of this realm, not its lord and master. I forwarded your correspondence to the twins,” Erestor answered. “They said I should respond as was fit.”

Celeborn narrowed his eyes. “So you were the one who invited me, then.”

Erestor sighed. “I said, if you had read the letter, that you would be welcomed here.”

“It will be only us for the duration of the winter. I cannot travel back, the pass was nearly snowed in,” Celeborn informed Erestor. “Will we have provisions to make it through the months ahead?”

“You... you are staying,” blurted out Erestor in disbelief. Celeborn nodded. “I thought you would leave, like everyone else.” He laughed uneasily and hung his head. “No, of course you will not. Not until the summer, at least, when the twins are off playing rangers again.”

The words Erestor said tried to mask his sorrow, but they failed to do so. Celeborn paraphrased, reaching over to touch Erestor’s shoulder. “You are lonely, are you not?”

A small sniffle alerted Celeborn of the fact that Erestor was crying. From his pocket he took a handkerchief and reached out the dark elf, tilting his chin up with one hand and drying his tears with the other. “I am such a fool, I should have sailed,” said Erestor, taking the cloth from Celeborn to blow his nose.

“I am sorry everyone left,” said Celeborn.

“Everyone always does. You will, too,” he replied sadly.

“Not me. Did you read my letter?” asked Celeborn.

Erestor nodded. “But the twins are not here all of the time. When they go-“

“I will stay.” Celeborn tried to read Erestor’s expression. “Do you want me to stay?”

Instead of answering, Erestor turned to watch the glow of the fire. Celeborn knew the answer- Erestor wanted to say yes, but feared to. He feared that Celeborn would in fact leave. The pair watched as the remainders of the log smoldered until the embers died out, leaving them in near darkness. “Shall I show you to your rooms? I will bring something for you to eat.”

“Yes, thank you.” Celeborn followed Erestor out of the hall, down the corridor that was sporadically lit by a lantern here or there. Erestor lifted one from the hook on the wall and carried it down the stairs.

When they reached the front door, Erestor said, “I need to get more wood so that I can light a fire in your quarters,” but as he began to turn the knob, the whistle of the wind alerted them of a storm outside. Erestor barely opened the door a few inches before wind blew in snow and out the candles, and slammed the door shut again.

“Do not try again; it is beastly out there,” advised Celeborn, picking up the sack he had brought with him and left at the entrance. “Is there no firewood inside?”

For a moment, Erestor paused and thought, then nodded. “I will show you to your rooms and then retrieve it,” he said, leading Celeborn back up the stairs and taking another lantern from the hall. They did not travel far before they came to a guest room that Celeborn was actually quite familiar with. “I will only be a moment,” said Erestor.

It did not take long for Celeborn to settle himself in the rooms, and Erestor reentered shortly thereafter. “Here we are,” he said, bringing in the wood and tending to the fire he started. “Should be warm in here in just a bit.”

“You must have had that conveniently close,” remarked Celeborn. He watched Erestor closely as he closed the door to keep the heat inside the room, and noted the flinch he expected. “Where exactly were you storing it?”

“Just, down the hall, in one of the rooms,” Erestor said casually.

“In your room?” No answer. “Erestor, I don’t want you sacrificing your comfort for-“

“No, I am not! Do you even understand?” shouted Erestor, leaping up from the floor. “Can you not let me do... something for you? Let me feel useful- that is all I ask!” There were fresh tears in his eyes as he sobbed, “All I know to do is serve others; let me feel useful again, please, please let me,” he begged.

Unable to stand watching the breakdown that Erestor was having any longer, Celeborn did the only thing he could think of. Closing the distance between them, the elf lord drew Erestor into his arms and held him. “We have so much in common, you and I. For so long we have felt we had our purpose, and in this age, we are lost and alone.” Celeborn tightened his hold as he felt Erestor’s arms embrace him. “I was much too harsh in sending you away that night on the beach. I thought, surely I could do this on my own. Galadriel, bless her soul, she was right. You were right. I never imagined that I could have caused you hurt, but I did, and I am sorry.”

“Do not blame yourself for that,” Erestor said, pulling away enough so that they could speak. “I was much too bold; I was so used to Elrond. Elf though he is, he is man, too, and men are so blatantly direct. It was how he approached me when Ereinion was killed; it was how I approached him when Celebrian sailed. I should have offered and not shoved it into your face.”

Therein laid the truth. Had Erestor made the offer discretely, Celeborn would have perhaps considered it after some time. It had been made so bold, so matter-of-fact, not an offer but an assumption. Celeborn liked to decide things for himself, and so his pride ruined what could have been a number of delightful decades. Erestor had made the first move, it felt right to Celeborn for him to make the second. “Since the fire has already been started here, perhaps you would stay the night, and share the warmth with me.”

“Perhaps,” said Erestor softly. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to stay?”

The ‘yes’, left Celeborn’s lips after the word ‘me’, and both parties blushed and looked away.

“No,” said Erestor. “I should not. I... you like females, I know this. I am not that, and I am not even pretty enough to be considered so in some half-drunken coupling we might-“ The rest of whatever Erestor might have said was muffled between their lips, and the thought was lost completely once they were together on the bed, tearing each other’s clothing off. Contact of flesh with flesh could not be made soon enough, to assure them both that indeed, the other was there, this was real, and no longer were they alone.

That is how they ended up entwined between the sheets, Celeborn raised carefully over Erestor and Erestor arching his back as he let out another satisfied sigh. “Move, Celeborn, or you won’t have to worry about this killing you, because I will do it first!”

Hands moved down Erestor’s sides, gripping his hips firmly. “Tell me if it hurts... I have not done this in a while...”

“Neither have I, remember?” panted Erestor. “Trust me... you will not hurt me.”

“Erestor, it was not just since she left. She and I... the last time was when Celebrian was conceived.”

If Erestor’s mouth wasn’t already open, it would have been. “Oh, you poor ellon...” Reaching up, Erestor wrapped his hands around Celeborn’s neck and lifted himself up enough to flick his tongue against Celeborn’s ear. “Do something for both of us. Take me hard. You want it. I want it. So... fuck me.”

Celeborn’s hands unlaced Erestor’s fingers, and he pushed the darker elf down onto the bed. “With pleasure,” he growled, and finally slid out of the tight, slick passage he had prepared with his own fingers and thrust back in again. “Like that?” he asked, repeating his actions a few more times.

“Harder,” moaned Erestor, trying to lift his pelvis to meet the thrusts.

Celeborn slammed forcefully into Erestor, pulled almost all the way out, and did it again and again and again. “How is that?” he managed between breaths.

“Deeper,” came the plea, while Erestor’s head lolled from one side to the other and he groaned in pleasure.

Pulling the flesh taut in either direction at Erestor’s entrance, Celeborn propelled himself forward while using his hands to pull Erestor closer to him. They were on the edge of ecstasy, with the dark elf biting his hand to keep from screaming and sweat sliding down Celeborn’s face into his own eyes. “Tell me, what more do you want? Tell me!”

“Faster! Oh, everything, everything!” he demanded, and scream he did as Celeborn fulfilled his request, bringing them both to completion. This moment shared was the first of many, and a dawning of a time of togetherness for them both.