There was no knock on the door, but Glorfindel heard it open and close again. He looked up from the book he was reading and waited for his unexpected guest to announce their presence. It was not long before someone peered around the corner. “I was unable to sleep,” explained Erestor. “I knew that you often stay up late. The maid let me in.”
Glorfindel set his book down. “It must be the excitement of your impending majority. The crier called out two hours to mid-night not long ago; only a little longer, and I can wish you a happy begetting day.”
“I should like to have you be the first to do so.” Erestor smiled and sat down on a square leather stool located across the room from Glorfindel. If Glorfindel had doubts last year about Erestor’s age, they were now put to rest. Over the last year, the gangly lad that still had the lingering awkward movements of adolescence was a graceful adult. His arms and legs were more muscular now, and his voice had deepened to a rich tenor, with laughter that came as rumbled chuckles instead of the muffled snickers of youth. As much as a part of Glorfindel might have missed the innocence of his unplanned ward, the changes were very welcomed.
Glorfindel leaned back and admired Erestor’s form now. He had not seen fit to put on a shirt or shoes when he left his room, so he was wearing only a loose pair of pants meant for sleeping. “I suppose you shall want the key back that I took away from you last year. That is, if you truly are fifty tomorrow?” He winked.
“I will be,” promised Erestor, and then came that chuckle. He sobered a few moments later. “However... I have a confession to make to you, sir.” Glorfindel eyed up Erestor curiously. “I have little need for the key. I managed to convince your librarians to allow me access to the hidden vault of books behind the desk. I suppose you never told anyone else my true age, because I went to them the very next day and asked admittance based on the fact that I was ‘fifty-two’, and they acquiesced.”
A shake of Glorfindel’s head made Erestor smirk. “I assume you found a way into the basement as well,” Glorfindel gently accused.
“No. You forbid that to me, and I followed your orders.”
Glorfindel nodded, seeming to understand. “Then if you have no use for the key, it is because you have no interest in the room downstairs.”
“On the contrary...” Erestor stood up and walked to a table that contained an array of treats in jars and on plates beneath crystal covers. He lifted lids to peer inside, but took nothing. “I came here tonight so that you could show me that room again, since I do not possess a key.”
“Not until midnight, and then you would be disappointed. Everyone has returned home for the evening and there will be no one there for three days.” Glorfindel faintly heard the crier in the distance announce that all was well at the eleventh hour.
“We would be there. You and I.” Erestor had moved around the table so that his back was to Glorfindel, so he looked over his shoulder now, one hands sliding across the polished surface of the tabletop. “Let us be honest about it. You showed me that room last year, hoping I would come to you like this.”
Glorfindel said nothing.
Erestor slowly began to walk towards Glorfindel. “Your sanctuary... has been all I can think about between every other thought I have,” he admitted, his hands raised so that fingertips brushed his temples, eyes closed in concentration. “It continuously haunts me in an unexplainable way. I remember fleeting images... and... I need you to take me there.”
“I will take you after midnight,” said Glorfindel firmly.
“What difference will an hour make? What if I promise not to touch anything?” Erestor approached Glorfindel, and knelt down before him. “Please, sir. Let me see the room again.”
Glorfindel resisted the urge to reach out for Erestor, whose slightly parted lips seemed to beckon to him, whether knowingly or not. The words of the crier were fresh in his mind, and Glorfindel held the key out to Erestor. “Do you remember how to get there?”
“In the basement. First door at the bottom of the stairs.” Erestor stood up and smiled. “Will you meet me there at midnight?”
“I might.” Glorfindel shooed Erestor away and waited for a length of time he felt was the better part of a quarter hour before he wandered to a set of doors that were hidden behind a velvet curtain. He slipped behind and slid the latch that kept them locked, and then stepped down onto the indoor balcony that allowed him to see the entirety of the room in the basement. As he suspected, Erestor was there already. There was only a small amount of light from the candle that Erestor held as he slowly walked around and inspected the different items, only looking, never touching.
Glorfindel cleared his throat to make his presence known, and Erestor smiled and gave a little wave. “Miss me already?”
“I was worried it might be too dark. There are many things that you might trip over.” Glorfindel crouched down and set to lighting a torch that was attached at the side of the balcony rail, and then lit one at the opposite side. It helped a lot more than the single flame of the candle, but left the room relatively dim.
As Erestor walked all around the room and looked at the various devices from every angle for several minutes each, Glorfindel kept a careful watch on him. The last year had been awkward. Glorfindel insisted on two additional private tutors to keep a distance from the boy... no, no longer a boy, he reminded himself. That was the problem, really. When he had first seen Erestor, Glorfindel could tell that the lad would grow up to be a fine figured man, but even his expectations had been exceeded. Now, he had a momentary hesitation, with the prize so close at hand.
“I have noticed,” said Erestor, bringing Glorfindel back to the present situation, “that the majority of the items are made out of one of two materials. Mithril,” he said, motioning to a pile of chain, “and leather.” He waved another hand towards the floggers on the wall. “So, which is your preference?”
“My preference? I would prefer that choice be up to the one who will be most impacted,” said Glorfindel.
Erestor picked up the end of the chain, despite the promise not to touch. Glorfindel wagered it was only a few minutes until midnight anyhow. He watched as Erestor ran the links through his fingers and frowned. “Too hard and cold and bulky,” he assessed. He retrieved a leather strap that was discarded on a bench. He set the candle down and began to wrap the leather around one of his wrists. Glorfindel held his breath as he watched the scene below. “Much better,” called out Erestor. “I like the texture.. and the sounds of it, the aching as it stretches...”
Glorfindel let out his breath as a soft moan, and strained to hear a faint sound in the distance. He concentrated as he heard it again – the street crier, calling out for midnight and all being well. Glorfindel vowed that it would be very soon as he unhooked a small gate at the side of the balcony. A narrow stairway led down to the ground, and Glorfindel took some of the stairs two at a time on his way to the ground. An amused Erestor stood by, watching him. “And you thought I was being impatient.”
“You are doing it wrong.” Glorfindel unwound the leather from Erestor’s hand and tossed it aside. From his waist, he unfastened his own belt and slid it from his waist. “You have to start with the end, like this,” he said, and he took the end without the buckle and began to wrap it slowly around Erestor’s right wrist, leaving a hand span of the end loose from the wrapping. “Now, through here. Raise your arm,” he instructed, and Erestor did so. There was a metal hoop hanging down from the ceiling, and Glorfindel threaded the buckle end through. He pulled it out, then took hold of Erestor’s other arm and held it above his head. “Not too tightly... the leather will do that on its own every time you struggle.” Glorfindel left just enough length so that the two ends could be buckled back together, creating a firm hold around Erestor’s wrists.
Immediately, Erestor tugged to test the strength of the bond, and groaned when he heard and felt the leather tightening snug against his skin. Glorfindel moved a few feet away where a crank was wound by hand that lifted the ring, and Erestor, a little higher, so that Erestor was partially dangling, partially on the tips of his toes, his arms stretched high above his head.
Glorfindel appraised his work momentarily before he came back and took a firm hold of the dark hair of Erestor’s head by the hair and pulled back. “This is but a taste of what you will find in this room, if you stay here long enough.” He roughly kissed Erestor, and the frustration of a year spent unexpectedly celibate poured out. Erestor returned the kiss hungrily, all the beautiful inexperience rushing forward, made up by extreme enthusiasm and uncontrollable lust. “Happy begetting day,” were the only words Glorfindel managed to utter between kisses.
