{ There!...that scent! }
He scrambled from the bed stumbling as that primal need drove him, semi-conscious, towards the door. Once outside his room, Erestor's movements became frightently silent and fluid as he stalked his way down the dark hallway, his nostrils steadily twiching on his otherwise blank face. Finally, he came to a standstill in front of another door. His cock jolted, warm drops weeping from the slit.
{ Yesss... }
There, behind that closed door, was the one thing that could end his torment. The fever within him reached boiling point and Erestor, helplessly cought in the grip of mindless desire, barreled through the entrance.
The Lady of the House of Willows had just donned her sleeping gown and was turning, with a heavy heart, towards her bed when the door to her chamber literally splintered to pieces and she found herself looking into the wild, unfocused eyes of her son. Her hand shot up to her throat in fear as she took in Erestor's naked, heaving form, the shaft almost purple with the strain of unspent need. For one incredibly long second they stood, staring at each other. Then, with a growl, Erestor pounced.
" Nay! Daro! Daro!" The Lady gave a strangled shout. Her arms flaying wildly, her eyes full of terror.
" Lorantol!!!" She screamed in desperation.
Then she saw the crazed, yet curiously vacant eyes widen and suddently, Erestor was backing away from her, one hand clutching at the back of his neck. He stumbled drunkenly about the room, overturning a chair before falling heavily to the floor himself. He sat on the intricately woven rug, hand still clutching at his neck, a bewildered look coming into his slowly cognizant eyes.
" Naneth?."
It was the soft whisper of a frightened elfling.
" Naneth...?"
Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell back, unconscious. Lorantol cast the blow-dart tube from his hand, rushing to the Lady's side as she collapsed weeping in his arms. Her hands clawed at his tunic and she looked over at her only child in despair.
" Oh! ion nin. Forgive me...forgive me!"
Erestor came to with a jolt of panic, only to fight off a wave of dizziness that made the room spin around him for a few nauseating moments. When his head finally cleared, he found himself staring at a patch of blue sky peeking through a heavily barred window set high upon a stone wall.
Fear gripped him.
He remembered falling asleep in his room, feeling ill and exhausted and now... Where was he?. What had happened?. Had they been attacked?. By the Valar! Naneth!. He scrambled to his feet, rushing to the door only to find it securely latched against him. He slammed his shoulder into it several times before giving up, his eyes searching around the room for another means of escape. But there was only that one small window and Erestor realized that he was in one of the storage cellars. He became very still then, reaching out with his senses. He could hear none of the sounds that would signify the presence of hostile beings. He could smell no traces of smoke, nor steel, nor blood. The trees outside the small window sang no songs of distress, though he could sense a sadness directed at...him?.
But he had no time to ponder this, for he was suddently seized by a pain so fierce, that he fell to the stone floor on all fours with a strangled gasp. Fiery trails seared down his back, making him bow over until his forehead thudded on the ground between his splayed hands, before culminating with a white-hot bolt to the base of his spine that made hin arch up violently as he threw his head back with a guttural scream. His body began to jerk spasmodically and the walls reverberated with the raw sounds of his agony until, at last, mercifull darkness once again overtook him.
Erestor had reached his majority.
TBC...