“Where were you last night?”
Erestor ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, nodding slowly. “Library,” he answered to the narrowed eyes of his mother, hoping he had managed to get any residue of chocolate off of his teeth. “I must have read, like, a million pages or something,” he said flippantly as he walked past to reach the flap inside of the tent which would lead to the area where he slept. Nomadic and unconcerned with material desires, the gypsy elves who migrated along the coastal regions had never quite appealed to Erestor, who did spend much of his time closer to the mainland, in the closest of the scholarly libraries in Valinor.
“Rumil did not see you there!” she called after him as he ducked under the flap and into the space off the side of the main tent. It was just barely big enough to fit a straw-filled mattress, several pillows, a blanket, and a few leather-bound journals. Hanging above were the three shirts and two pairs of leggings he owned beyond those he currently wore; he had a robe as well, but in the small space, only tall enough for him to crouch and sit or lie down in, it would have been wrinkled. Instead, it was hung from a pole just outside of his door, along with a dark green cloak. Boots and shoes were kept outside, and he picked at the dirt under a toenail as his mother reproached him for keeping his hair so long in the summer months.
After a few minutes, he groaned and half-crawled, half-flopped into his nest, pulling a pillow over his face to drown out the scolding. He heard the sign of exasperation, but missed seeing his mother raise her arms to the heavens, and drop them back down as she left in a huff with an expectation that he would be awake and washed by the time she returned from the market.
Once he was certain that the tent was otherwise empty, Erestor emerged from his space and searched about for some energizing tea. Finding none, he sat down on the floor, playing with the cups and plates – they were always set out on the two overturned wooden crates covered with a repurposed cloak that now served as a tablecloth. Everything was always set to be readily used since there was no place to store anything. They sat on cushions to eat, and Erestor sleepily reclined to use one as a pillow. Just for a moment, just a quick moment of his eyes cl—
He woke with a lump in his throat. Erestor turned his head, noting the bright golden light shining in from Laurelin. His cheeks were tacky, and the cushion was damp… had he been crying? He rubbed a sniffle from his nose and sat up, feeling momentarily lonely. He picked up another of the cushions and hugged it, remembering the previous night, both with a smile and a few straying tears.
It was hard to sneak off, to try to be undetected, and to leave without staying the night – the whole night – without waking together in the morning.
*My father was livid. I reminded him I am fifty, and he reminded me that if I want to live to be a hundred, I better stop being such an arrogant fool. What a pompous ass! How are you, dearest?*
The smile widened as Erestor wiped away his tears. *I was getting doubtful that I would hear from you today, duckie.*
*You were sleeping.*
Erestor fumbled about to rearrange the cushions, flipping the damp one over. *Just a little nap.*
*I already ate lunch. Without you.*
Erestor could almost hear the pout in his lover’s voice, despite the way it resonated in his head like listening to someone under water. *I think I am supposed to do something productive so my mother does not skin me. And a bath.. I need a bath.*
*I can help.*
Now there was a grin to the words, and Erestor laughed as he gathered clean clothing from his little spot, bundling it around to form a sack that he could slide onto his fishing pole and settle over his shoulder. *I would not wish to take advantage of the generosity of my Prince.*
“Then get out here.”
Erestor blinked. The voice was clearer, but he doubted that he had been able to master far speaking any better in the last few moments than he had managed in three years. He grabbed a satchel of powdered soap that was hanging from one of the poles and entered out into the bright golden light, finding Feanor leaning against one of the boulders near the tide. Grinning, Erestor approached, but kept his movement slow and even. They were still naïve enough to think no one had discovered their infatuation with one another.
“You do stink,” decreed Feanor when Erestor was standing beside him. He poked Erestor in the ribs with his elbow. “Just kidding. Still… I can help with that bath,” he drawled.
Story Notes:
IDoS 2012. Bunniverse. Inspired by the song: All I Need to Know by Thousand Foot Krutch