2 more kisses for the Sylvie
Nov. 21st, 2005 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meretriculasee? still working. ~snuggles~ love you, sweetie!
"Glorfindel."
The blond warrior stared out the window.
"Glorfindel."
He heaved a deep, broody sigh.
"GLORFINDEL!"
"Hmm?" Glorfindel finally looked up. "Oh, hello, Lord Elrond. What is it?"
"Sweet Eru, you're impossible," Elrond muttered in disgust. "Reports, Glorfindel. That were due on my desk a week ago. Where are they?"
"Oh..." Glorfindel looked drearily down at the mess of scrawled-upon paper on his desk as if he expected the reports in question to suddenly materialize. "I don't know, Lord Elrond... I might have forgotten them."
Elrond exhaled on a count to ten. Then he inhaled on a count to twenty. In Dwarvish. Then, because all the counting had done nothing to cool his temper, he started shrieking like a Nazgul out of Mordor. "FOR THE LOVE OF VARDA, WHY DOES NOTHING GET DONE AROUND HERE WITHOUT ERESTOR? I WANT MY THRICE-BE-DAMNED REPORTS AND I WANT THEM NOW!"
"Erestor," Glorfindel murmured mournfully.
Elrond turned from bright red to deep purple. "Then go," he hissed. "You are worse than useless here. So just go to Mirkwood, and see your precious Erestor, and HAVE HIM TEACH YOU HOW TO FILE A VALAR-CURST REPORT ON TIME!"
Glorfindel's face lit up instantly. "Thank you, Lord Elrond!" he said cheerfully, and almost skipped out of the room. Elrond stared after him, gritted his teeth and manfully (half-elf-fully?) refrained from having an apoplexy.
*
"Really, Counselor," Thranduil said expansively, gesturing with his (several-times-refilled) wineglass. "You should loosen up a little. Have some wine."
"No, thank you," Erestor replied tightly, amending a clause on the twenty-sixth draft of the mutual-defense treaty between Mirkwood and Rivendell. He used red ink. Hopefully Thranduil's would catch the implicit threat, because if he had to revise draft twenty-seven, he was going to be extremely cranky. Ungoliath herself had nothing on Erestor when he was extremely cranky.
"Come, now!" Thranduil exclaimed. "Relax! The wine is good, negotiations are going well, and you have access to admire my unparalleled beauty! What's not to enjoy?"
"Erestor never relaxes," Lindir giggled tipsily at Thranduil's elbow, where he'd been matching the Mirkwood king sip for sip. He leaned over, and added, in a very loud stage whisper, "Except when Glorfindel's on top of him."
If there had been any justice in the world, Lindir would have died from all the poison in the glare Erestor shot him. He'd told Elrond he didn't want Lindir along on this mission. But no. "I don't want you to get lonely," Elrond had said. If it came down to that, Erestor would have preferred to have Glorfindel along. Diplomatically challenged as he might be, Thranduil's advisors would have probably been less obstinate with an armed Balrog-slayer breathing down their necks. Erestor began to fantasize about the expression on Thranduil's prime minister's face upon being threatened with Glorfindel's largest battle axe. His eyes were probably going dreamy, but Lindir and Thranduil were both too drunk to notice, anyway.
"Your majesty!" boomed Thranduil's herald. He was short and fat and Erestor suspected that he was secretly part-Dwarvish. "Lord Glorfindel of Imladris requests an audience!"
"Send him in!" Thranduil proclaimed loudly. "I want to see the elf who can get our dear frigid Counselor to unwind!"
Erestor stared at the door, frozen in shock. He wasn't sure if this was a dream or a nightmare.
Glorfindel sauntered in, ragged and dirty and looking better than anything Erestor had seen since he left Rivendell. "Hi, Thranduil," he said casually, with a very perfunctory bow. "I'm just here to pick up my little snuggle-bunny, if that's okay with you. I'll bring him back when I'm done with him. Um, say a week." Erestor's jaw dropped. Definitely a nightmare.
"Glorfindel, you - you - " he sputtered.
"Sure," Thranduil replied magnanimously. "Try the sandalwood oil in the bathroom, it smells better than the peppermint."
Erestor was making wordless, whistling sounds of inarticulate rage. Glorfindel unceremoniously picked him up, tossed him over his shoulder, and left the hall, Erestor's shrieks echoed behind them until the door slammed shut. "Glorfindel, you OAF! Let me GO! GLORFIN - "
Lindir staggered over to the table where Erestor had been working and picked up the sheaf of paper, neatly annotated in red ink. "Y'know, this is probably fine as it is," he suggested, bringing it over to Thranduil. "Why don't you just sign it?"
Thranduil frowned the frown of a thoughtful drunk. "But then Erestor wouldn't be around to tease anymore," he complained.
"Glorfindel would probably kill you if you tried, anyway."
"My advisors are getting a little annoyed at having to stall any longer," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll sign it if you make it worth my while."
Lindir smirked and straddled Thranduil's lap, and proceeded to give him a lengthy, sloppy kiss. "How's that?"
"Good enough," Thranduil replied. He signed the much-revised treaty in Erestor's red ink, then stood, Lindir still wrapped around his waist. "Come on, let's go try out the sandalwood oil before Glorfindel and Erestor use it all up."
Lindir giggled, and allowed himself to be carted out of Thranduil's throne room. /And Erestor always said I have no talent for negotiation./
"Erestor, you can't possibly need all these books," Glorfindel protested, staring at the vast stacks of scrolls and volumes waiting to be packed up and transferred from the North Wing (where Erestor's apartments were located) to the West (Glorfindel's residence).
"Yes, I most certainly can," Erestor snapped. He'd been getting progressively edgier as the day of the Big Move approached. Even Glorfindel (notoriously oblivious) had noticed. "And if you don't want to move them, well, you can always move in with here instead."
"Erestor. Darling. I love you. But you live in a cave. I'm surprised you didn't transform into a dwarf in those long years before I met and and brought sunshine into your life." Glorfindel beamed and swooped down on his lover with the intent of bestowing a kiss upon him. Erestor batted him away with a snarl.
"Just go away, you useless, brainless sack of muscles! I'm trying to work!"
Glorfindel backed away, eyes wide. Erestor went off on tears less frequently now than he had prior to his relationship with Glorfindel, but when he did, the only strategy that ensured survival was running like all nine Nazgul were after you. Even Elrond fled from Erestor in a temper. "I'll be in the bedroom," he said very quietly, and made his escape.
*
Erestor finished packing up and labeling about half his collection in record time. He always worked faster when he was angry, and he was absolutely furious, for no especial reason, with Glorfindel.
But Erestor did have an awfully large number of books, so by the time he was half-done packing, supper had come and gone. There were no windows in his study, but he sensed - from the guttering candles and his aching back - that had been working for for about eight hours, which made it, by Erestor's ever-precise calculations, about 10 o'clock at night. He emerged from the study fully expecting to find his bedroom empty; Glorfindel usually had enough good sense to get away from him when he was in a mood.
Erestor's predictions, never as accurate with people as they were with numbers, failed him with Glorfindel once again. The blond elf was curled up on top of the bedspread, fast asleep. His hair was a mess, and his nose was scrunched up. Erestor looked at him, and felt any residual anger melt away.
He climbed onto the bed and leaned over Glorfindel. His bed was considerably smaller than Glorfindel's; they always had to sleep squashed together when Glorfindel stayed the night in Erestor's room. Erestor had always liked sleeping so close to Glorfindel, though he would never admit it. Glorfindel's bed had enough room for both of them to stretch out comfortably, which had featured second in his summation of why Erestor should move in with him (immediately following the "cave" argument).
Even before he woke up, Glorfindel rolled over towards the fresh source of heat and flung an arm over Erestor. The dark-haired elf smiled helplessly and ducked down to press a quick kiss to Glorfindel's cheek. The arm around his shoulders tightened, pressing him to Glorfindel's side. "'Morning," Glorfindel mumbled, nuzzling Erestor's neck.
"It's still night," Erestor corrected mildly, squirming slightly at the ticklish sensation of Glorfindel's cold nose rubbing against his throat.
"Blargle," Glorfindel muttered incoherently in response. He rolled over again, this time taking Erestor with him, so that the slighter elf rested firmly trapped beneath him. Bright blue eyes focused and stared down into Erestor's dark ones. "You don't have to move in with me if you really don't want to," he said abruptly. "I don't have all that much stuff; I can move in here. Really," he added, rushing on when Erestor made as if to interrupt. "I don't care where we live, so long as we're there together." He paused to consider the utter sap content of his last comment, went dull red, and buried his face in Erestor's shoulder to hide his blush.
"It's all right," Erestor said softly, stroking Glorfindel's hair soothingly. "Your rooms are nicer. And we can move my books in installments." Now that he thought about it, Glorfindel always snuggled up to a warm body, no matter whose bed they were in. And even if it never would have occurred to him to want one, the balcony in Glorfindel's apartments was pleasant to relax on during warm summer nights. And, well, he would be living with Glorfindel. It would work out somehow.
"Erestor, love of my life, if you think I'm moving those books for you, you're insane." Glorfindel leaned down to kiss any indignant objections from Erestor's lips, and added thoughtfully as he pulled away, "That's what servants are for."
I even put in gratuitous Lindir for you! it must be love.
"Glorfindel."
The blond warrior stared out the window.
"Glorfindel."
He heaved a deep, broody sigh.
"GLORFINDEL!"
"Hmm?" Glorfindel finally looked up. "Oh, hello, Lord Elrond. What is it?"
"Sweet Eru, you're impossible," Elrond muttered in disgust. "Reports, Glorfindel. That were due on my desk a week ago. Where are they?"
"Oh..." Glorfindel looked drearily down at the mess of scrawled-upon paper on his desk as if he expected the reports in question to suddenly materialize. "I don't know, Lord Elrond... I might have forgotten them."
Elrond exhaled on a count to ten. Then he inhaled on a count to twenty. In Dwarvish. Then, because all the counting had done nothing to cool his temper, he started shrieking like a Nazgul out of Mordor. "FOR THE LOVE OF VARDA, WHY DOES NOTHING GET DONE AROUND HERE WITHOUT ERESTOR? I WANT MY THRICE-BE-DAMNED REPORTS AND I WANT THEM NOW!"
"Erestor," Glorfindel murmured mournfully.
Elrond turned from bright red to deep purple. "Then go," he hissed. "You are worse than useless here. So just go to Mirkwood, and see your precious Erestor, and HAVE HIM TEACH YOU HOW TO FILE A VALAR-CURST REPORT ON TIME!"
Glorfindel's face lit up instantly. "Thank you, Lord Elrond!" he said cheerfully, and almost skipped out of the room. Elrond stared after him, gritted his teeth and manfully (half-elf-fully?) refrained from having an apoplexy.
*
"Really, Counselor," Thranduil said expansively, gesturing with his (several-times-refilled) wineglass. "You should loosen up a little. Have some wine."
"No, thank you," Erestor replied tightly, amending a clause on the twenty-sixth draft of the mutual-defense treaty between Mirkwood and Rivendell. He used red ink. Hopefully Thranduil's would catch the implicit threat, because if he had to revise draft twenty-seven, he was going to be extremely cranky. Ungoliath herself had nothing on Erestor when he was extremely cranky.
"Come, now!" Thranduil exclaimed. "Relax! The wine is good, negotiations are going well, and you have access to admire my unparalleled beauty! What's not to enjoy?"
"Erestor never relaxes," Lindir giggled tipsily at Thranduil's elbow, where he'd been matching the Mirkwood king sip for sip. He leaned over, and added, in a very loud stage whisper, "Except when Glorfindel's on top of him."
If there had been any justice in the world, Lindir would have died from all the poison in the glare Erestor shot him. He'd told Elrond he didn't want Lindir along on this mission. But no. "I don't want you to get lonely," Elrond had said. If it came down to that, Erestor would have preferred to have Glorfindel along. Diplomatically challenged as he might be, Thranduil's advisors would have probably been less obstinate with an armed Balrog-slayer breathing down their necks. Erestor began to fantasize about the expression on Thranduil's prime minister's face upon being threatened with Glorfindel's largest battle axe. His eyes were probably going dreamy, but Lindir and Thranduil were both too drunk to notice, anyway.
"Your majesty!" boomed Thranduil's herald. He was short and fat and Erestor suspected that he was secretly part-Dwarvish. "Lord Glorfindel of Imladris requests an audience!"
"Send him in!" Thranduil proclaimed loudly. "I want to see the elf who can get our dear frigid Counselor to unwind!"
Erestor stared at the door, frozen in shock. He wasn't sure if this was a dream or a nightmare.
Glorfindel sauntered in, ragged and dirty and looking better than anything Erestor had seen since he left Rivendell. "Hi, Thranduil," he said casually, with a very perfunctory bow. "I'm just here to pick up my little snuggle-bunny, if that's okay with you. I'll bring him back when I'm done with him. Um, say a week." Erestor's jaw dropped. Definitely a nightmare.
"Glorfindel, you - you - " he sputtered.
"Sure," Thranduil replied magnanimously. "Try the sandalwood oil in the bathroom, it smells better than the peppermint."
Erestor was making wordless, whistling sounds of inarticulate rage. Glorfindel unceremoniously picked him up, tossed him over his shoulder, and left the hall, Erestor's shrieks echoed behind them until the door slammed shut. "Glorfindel, you OAF! Let me GO! GLORFIN - "
Lindir staggered over to the table where Erestor had been working and picked up the sheaf of paper, neatly annotated in red ink. "Y'know, this is probably fine as it is," he suggested, bringing it over to Thranduil. "Why don't you just sign it?"
Thranduil frowned the frown of a thoughtful drunk. "But then Erestor wouldn't be around to tease anymore," he complained.
"Glorfindel would probably kill you if you tried, anyway."
"My advisors are getting a little annoyed at having to stall any longer," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll sign it if you make it worth my while."
Lindir smirked and straddled Thranduil's lap, and proceeded to give him a lengthy, sloppy kiss. "How's that?"
"Good enough," Thranduil replied. He signed the much-revised treaty in Erestor's red ink, then stood, Lindir still wrapped around his waist. "Come on, let's go try out the sandalwood oil before Glorfindel and Erestor use it all up."
Lindir giggled, and allowed himself to be carted out of Thranduil's throne room. /And Erestor always said I have no talent for negotiation./
"Erestor, you can't possibly need all these books," Glorfindel protested, staring at the vast stacks of scrolls and volumes waiting to be packed up and transferred from the North Wing (where Erestor's apartments were located) to the West (Glorfindel's residence).
"Yes, I most certainly can," Erestor snapped. He'd been getting progressively edgier as the day of the Big Move approached. Even Glorfindel (notoriously oblivious) had noticed. "And if you don't want to move them, well, you can always move in with here instead."
"Erestor. Darling. I love you. But you live in a cave. I'm surprised you didn't transform into a dwarf in those long years before I met and and brought sunshine into your life." Glorfindel beamed and swooped down on his lover with the intent of bestowing a kiss upon him. Erestor batted him away with a snarl.
"Just go away, you useless, brainless sack of muscles! I'm trying to work!"
Glorfindel backed away, eyes wide. Erestor went off on tears less frequently now than he had prior to his relationship with Glorfindel, but when he did, the only strategy that ensured survival was running like all nine Nazgul were after you. Even Elrond fled from Erestor in a temper. "I'll be in the bedroom," he said very quietly, and made his escape.
*
Erestor finished packing up and labeling about half his collection in record time. He always worked faster when he was angry, and he was absolutely furious, for no especial reason, with Glorfindel.
But Erestor did have an awfully large number of books, so by the time he was half-done packing, supper had come and gone. There were no windows in his study, but he sensed - from the guttering candles and his aching back - that had been working for for about eight hours, which made it, by Erestor's ever-precise calculations, about 10 o'clock at night. He emerged from the study fully expecting to find his bedroom empty; Glorfindel usually had enough good sense to get away from him when he was in a mood.
Erestor's predictions, never as accurate with people as they were with numbers, failed him with Glorfindel once again. The blond elf was curled up on top of the bedspread, fast asleep. His hair was a mess, and his nose was scrunched up. Erestor looked at him, and felt any residual anger melt away.
He climbed onto the bed and leaned over Glorfindel. His bed was considerably smaller than Glorfindel's; they always had to sleep squashed together when Glorfindel stayed the night in Erestor's room. Erestor had always liked sleeping so close to Glorfindel, though he would never admit it. Glorfindel's bed had enough room for both of them to stretch out comfortably, which had featured second in his summation of why Erestor should move in with him (immediately following the "cave" argument).
Even before he woke up, Glorfindel rolled over towards the fresh source of heat and flung an arm over Erestor. The dark-haired elf smiled helplessly and ducked down to press a quick kiss to Glorfindel's cheek. The arm around his shoulders tightened, pressing him to Glorfindel's side. "'Morning," Glorfindel mumbled, nuzzling Erestor's neck.
"It's still night," Erestor corrected mildly, squirming slightly at the ticklish sensation of Glorfindel's cold nose rubbing against his throat.
"Blargle," Glorfindel muttered incoherently in response. He rolled over again, this time taking Erestor with him, so that the slighter elf rested firmly trapped beneath him. Bright blue eyes focused and stared down into Erestor's dark ones. "You don't have to move in with me if you really don't want to," he said abruptly. "I don't have all that much stuff; I can move in here. Really," he added, rushing on when Erestor made as if to interrupt. "I don't care where we live, so long as we're there together." He paused to consider the utter sap content of his last comment, went dull red, and buried his face in Erestor's shoulder to hide his blush.
"It's all right," Erestor said softly, stroking Glorfindel's hair soothingly. "Your rooms are nicer. And we can move my books in installments." Now that he thought about it, Glorfindel always snuggled up to a warm body, no matter whose bed they were in. And even if it never would have occurred to him to want one, the balcony in Glorfindel's apartments was pleasant to relax on during warm summer nights. And, well, he would be living with Glorfindel. It would work out somehow.
"Erestor, love of my life, if you think I'm moving those books for you, you're insane." Glorfindel leaned down to kiss any indignant objections from Erestor's lips, and added thoughtfully as he pulled away, "That's what servants are for."
I even put in gratuitous Lindir for you! it must be love.
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Date: 2005-11-21 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-21 02:14 am (UTC)http://www.livejournal.com/users/leviosa8/305057.html#cutid1
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Date: 2005-11-21 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 10:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-21 04:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-21 09:58 am (UTC)Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2005-12-20 12:47 am (UTC)2. "So, Thranduil... got any French in you?"
"Not since last night."
Given the wine and sex talk, I'm highly suspicious. Ooh, plus the oiliness.
3. Go Lindir! Who knew you had it in you? (So to speak.)
* * *
1. I think Ryo and Erestor are lecturers of the Cocktease class in Uke University.
2. I love Glorfindel - he's so bloody cute. Erestor should already know by now how much I love him.
3. The most beautiful way to end any story is to have a cuddle puddle of Elves. When it's your story, well! It simply fits perfectly, doesn't it.
Mwah!
Re: Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2005-12-20 01:01 am (UTC)2. HAHAHA, he totally is!
3. oh, we ALL knew about Lindir. Little slut. =P
1. Well, yes, but they do it with love.
2. love for elves yays!
3. ~wince~ i do end a lot of stories that way, don't I...
MWAH! right back!
Re: Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2006-02-02 07:33 pm (UTC)2. "So... Leendeer, zees leetle book is somezing we 'ere call ze Mirkwood Karma Sutra." So IC it hurts.
3. Pfft! Yours might be a slut, but my personal one's a conservative little prude. This is slightly confusing given he has to share my wardrobe with Dee. But I digress. If you ever were to get back into Elf slash, I would humbly suggest that you work more with Lindir. He is a delightful chap.
1. Oh, that's what they call it these days! Seriously, do you think that would be sufficient enough compensation for poor Glorfindel and Dee?
2. Yeah... take a hint already! ;>
3. You do? That's not what I meant. I just meant I love cuddle puddles, I love your stories, so the two combined...
Re: Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2006-02-03 03:03 am (UTC)2) ~twitch~ I think Thranduil needs to take a vow of abstinence, like, right now.
3) oh, minor characters. how they delight us and our need to create personality quirks! (I have been getting back into Elf slash, dammit!)
1) hahaha. semes are suckers.
2) working on it...
3) hurrah!
Re: Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2006-02-12 08:30 am (UTC)2) Only because you're jealous. God, you two, get a room! The sexual tension between the pair of you is unbearable!
3) Well, get more into Elf slash! ;>
1) They certainly are. And they certainly enjoy being suckers.
2) I can't really remember what these last two points refer to, so...
Mwah!
3) And MwahMwah!
Re: Long overdue reviews. Erm... I love you. Eep?
Date: 2006-02-12 12:44 pm (UTC)2) ahahahahaha... ~dies~ (because Thranduil would kill me first)
3) ~giggles~ be patient, my love...
1) ~twitch~ bad pun, bad pun... oh, have you see the "seme" and "uke" shirts on the yaoi-manga online store. I want one sooooo bad. they are adorable!
2) Mwah ^ infinity, so there!