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meretricula2. news; letter
When Imladris was first founded by a group of rag-tag refugees, led by one Elrond Peredhel of Lindon, it was a regrettable fact that those who followed him from Gil-galad's city were forced to leave behind a number of their accustomed creature comforts. Erestor, late of Lindon, found that the one thing he missed most of all, far more than exotic dinners or seamstresses to mend his fancy dress robes, was his desk. The carpenters were so busy making houses and beds and cabinets that no one had yet gotten around to making furniture for Erestor's office, so at the moment his "office" was merely his bedroom. He read official correspondence in bed, and on the occasions when he needed to forge Elrond's signature on some document or other, he did so on the cold stone floor. All in all, he found this a highly dissatisfying arrangement.
Thus it was that he learned of the arrival of an unusually large, golden-haired elf to the valley not behind the desk where he was to spend the better part of the next millennium, but rather on his way to the simple supper served every night in the Fire Hall. Upon receiving this tidbit of news, Erestor blinked owlishly at its carrier, Lindir the minstrel, and asked, "Has he given his purpose for his visit?"
Lindir fidgeted slightly, anxious for his supper. "He said he was looking for a place in the guard here."
"Can he fight?" Erestor inquired, already paging through the guard roster in his head, looking for openings. There were too many; Imladris was, as of yet, sadly underdefended.
"He wears a sword across his back that I couldn't lift," Lindir replied with a shrug. "I really don't know, Lord Erestor."
"Well, tell him to come to me if he is seeking a position," Erestor instructed the minstrel, and glided away, his mind already occupied by greater worries.
*
The next day, Erestor's breakfast was interrupted by Lindir, followed by a very tall, muscular, blond elf. The stranger's head was bowed and his hair was loose, so Erestor couldn't tell if his face matched his highly attractive body. "Lord Erestor, this is Glorfindel," Lindir introduced him hurriedly. "He wants a place with the guards." His task completed, the minstrel scurried off in search of food.
"Glorfindel of Gondolin?" Erestor laughed softly, amused by the effrontery of whatever mother had named her child after the famous Balrog-slayer.
"I was of Gondolin once," Glorfindel agreed quietly. "Now I hope to be of Imladris."
Erestor looked up at him sharply. Glorfindel had lifted his chin, so the advisor could now see the shy smile flickering across the stranger's face. "All who wish to join our lord are welcome here," he said, neither coldly nor warmly. It was simple statement of fact. "And we are perilously short of competent swordsmen, so if you are as good with yon table-knife as the tales would claim, then you are well come indeed, Glorfindel of Rivendell."
Glorfindel's smile widened and solidified, and without warning he seized Erestor's hand, placing a firm kiss in the center of his palm. Erestor coughed, and Glorfindel flushed, dropping his hand like a hot coal as he realized that the entire hall was staring at him. "I know not how gratitude was expressed in Gondolin," Erestor said mildly, "but here a simple, 'thank you,' is sufficient. Perhaps a bow, if you feel very deeply. A kiss is unnecessary."
To Glorfindel's credit, he bowed with startling grace, despite his crimson cheeks. "I thank you, then, Lord Erestor."
The next few months, as Glorfindel settled in enough to become thoroughly cheerful and obnoxious, provided enough friction between the two to wipe away their first observations of each other, but nonetheless, Erestor did once note that Glorfindel was truly adorable when he blushed, and Glorfindel that Erestor's eyes sparkled beautifully when he was trying not to laugh.
22. cradle
Glorfindel crept down the hall with unusual stealth, given that he generally announced his arrival from a good thirty feet away with loud, off-key whistling. He'd sustained what he had indignantly informed Elrond was nothing even close to a serious injury and had been confined by his mother-hennish lord to a week's worth of bed-rest. Glorfindel hated bed-rest. It was dull. Thus, as soon as dark fell, he made his escape from the Halls of Healing (which, aside from being boring as Erestor's minutes of council meetings, also smelled unpleasantly of some pungent herb) and headed for his rooms, from whence, once ensconced, nothing short of a siege could remove him.
The sound of an almost painfully tuneless lullaby distracted him from his quest, and Glorfindel paused outside the doorway of the twins' nursery, wondering which of the chamber maids could possibly have such a poor sense of pitch. It certainly wasn't one of Celebrian's ladies-in-waiting; they were all frighteningly accomplished and could sing beautifully, embroider tastefully, paint pretty little pastoral scenes, and speak several languages. On the whole, Glorfindel found ladies-in-waiting to be useless wastes of space (except, naturally, bedspace), and preferred the chambermaids, who at least possessed some sort of viable skill. He doubted any of the fine elven ladies of Rivendell could scrub a floor.
Even for a chambermaid, the voice was low, and unfamiliar. Glorfindel's eyes brightened at the thought of a new chambermaid (and thus one he had not already despoiled, in the friendliest possible fashion, of her virtue), and pushed the door, left slightly ajar, open wider. He took in the sight before him, and his jaw dropped.
Erestor, Erestor the Dull, Erestor the Heartless, Erestor the Horrendously Supercilious and Annoying, was rocking one of the infant twins in his arms with an expression of outright adoration on his face. Even as Glorfindel watched, agape with shock, the dark-haired Counselor finished his lullaby, kissed the sleeping baby's forehead, and gently tucked him back into the cradle beside his twin. "Shh," he murmured, when the baby whimpered and made as if to stir, "you don't want to wake your brother, do you, Elladan?" He settled into a chair beside the cradle and began to swing the twins' bed slowly back and forth. The cranky twin - Glorfindel couldn't tell them apart, to tell the truth, but if Erestor said it was Elladan he was probably right - quieted down and began sucking his thumb, fast asleep.
Erestor smiled. He had a beautiful smile, really, Glorfindel observed. It was almost a pity he used it so seldom. But then, it was all the more attractive for its rarity, especially if Glorfindel and the baby twins were the only ones to have seen -
Glorfindel cut off this train of thought with a shake of his head, amused by his own flights of fancy. He crept off down the hall once more, as Erestor began singing once more.
He really needed to find a new chambermaid. That would stop him from having strange ideas about how pretty Erestor was when he smiled.
3. jolt!
Glorfindel wandered down the halls of Rivendell in the general direction of his room. It was some obscenely early hour of the morning, a well-earned headache throbbed dully behind his temples, and a disgustingly smug grin had taken up residence on his lips. The latest in his series of conquests among the ladies-in-waiting had thrown him out for making one too many suggestive comments in his drunken haze, but it did little to dampen Glorfindel's cheer. He did so enjoy a challenge.
"If all the world and love were young, and truth in every shepherd's tongue," he sang softly to himself, "these pretty pleasures might - Good morning, Counselor Erestor!"
"Hmmm?" Erestor turned to stare at him blankly, and Glorfindel felt his good mood slipping away, replaced by worry. Erestor's cheeks were flushed, his hair disheveled, and his eyes strangely glazed over.
"Sweet Eru, Erestor, are you drunk?" Glorfindel demanded in disbelief. He'd never so much as seen Elrond's advisor slightly tipsy.
"Oh... good morning, Glorf..." Erestor swayed once and crumpled to the floor.
"Erestor!" Glorfindel immediately dropped to his knees beside the counselor. His breath was coming shallowly and too rapidly for comfort, and his forehead, when Glorfindel laid the back of his hand over it, was warm. Glorfindel cursed, all ladies-in-waiting forgotten, and scooped Erestor up into his arms, intent on carrying him to Elrond.
*
"Lord Elrond, are you awake?" Glorfindel yelled, pounding on his door. He was forced to stop briefly as his precarious one-armed grip on Erestor started to slip, and Elrond opened the door, sleep-tousled and furious.
"Strange as it may sound, Glorfindel, I was asleep... is that Erestor?"
"I don't know what's wrong with him," Glorfindel explained, biting his lip. "He collapsed in the middle of the hall. I thought he might be drunk..."
Elrond placed a slender hand on Erestor's flushed cheek to check his temperature, and rolled his eyes. "He's not drunk, Glorfindel, he's sick. Carry him into my spare bedroom, please. I keep most of my medical supplies in there."
Glorfindel obediently followed Elrond into the next room and set his light-weight burden down on the bed. Erestor tossed his head on the pillow, his hair tangling around his face. Feeling oddly compassionate, Glorfindel smoothed the messy locks behind Erestor's ears. "Will he be all right?" he asked, still looking down at Erestor instead of Elrond.
Elrond made a low sound of disgust. "In a week or so, if he rests properly. He always overworks, and he always gets sick, and then he always ruins his recovery trying to go back to work too soon." He sighed, and came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Glorfindel, gazing down at Erestor worriedly. "He never listens to me." He pressed his lips together, then leaned forward to kiss Erestor's forehead gently.
"More to you than to anyone else," Glorfindel laughed, an unfamiliar sensation building in the pit of his stomach. "But if you're sure he'll be fine, I should go get changed and get to work." Elrond glanced over at him, finally noticed that he was still wearing the previous night's outfit, and raised an eyebrow in eloquent silence. Glorfindel grinned sheepishly and turned to leave.
When he reached the doorway, he looked back. Erestor's eyes had opened, although they were still dazed, and he was mumbling nonsense - probably about the cleaning budget, Glorfindel thought uncharitably, annoyed for no real reason. As Elrond tried to press Erestor back down on the bed, the counselor's fever-bright eyes met Glorfindel's. Erestor smiled suddenly, and allowed Elrond to push his head down to the pillow. Glorfindel, abruptly aware that his heart was pounding, hurried out of the room.
18. "say ahh...."
"Um... Lord Elrond?"
Elrond looked up from his desk and smiled. "What can I do for you, Captain?"
Glorfindel twisted his hands together behind his back. "How is Erestor doing?" he blurted
"He'll be back to work in no time at all," Elrond said reassuringly. "You've seen him at meals yourself. He's as cranky and crabby and self-sufficient as ever."
"Oh. Um. Good."
Elrond waited, but Glorfindel did not continue. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about, Glorfindel?"
"No! I mean, um, yes, sort of." Glorfindel took a deep breath, and finally rushed out, "I think I'm sick."
Elrond looked down to hide his smile, then got to his feet and walked around his desk to stand in front of Glorfindel. "What are your symptoms?"
"Well, I keep feeling short of breath, and my heart starts beating really hard, even when I haven't been exercising. And I feel dizzy sometimes, and I feel hot even when I know the temperature is perfectly normal. Oh, and one of the maids told me I look flushed a lot of the time, like I have a fever."
"And those are all your symptoms?"
"I think so," Glorfindel said, puzzled by Elrond's stern look.
"Is there any common thread linking them together? Say, they all happen whenever you see a certain person?"
"How did you - " Glorfindel caught himself, went red, and looked at the floor.
"I can't diagnose you properly if you don't tell me everything," Elrond reprimanded him mildly. He placed his hands on Glorfindel's shoulders firmly and gazed straight into the blond's eyes. "Hmm. Well, do you want my professional opinion?"
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Glorfindel muttered sulkily.
Elrond's mouth twitched, and he stood on tip-toe to kiss Glorfindel's cheek. He would have aimed for the forehead, but even when Glorfindel was slouching, as he was at the moment, he couldn't reach. "I'm afraid it's a rather serious condition, although it's not fatal. I've no cure for you, my dear Captain."
"Hey! You're just going to say I have a serious condition and then tell me you can't treat it?"
Elrond laughed. "Oh, Glorfindel. I can't treat you for this." He caught Glorfindel's face between his hands, forcing the captain to look him in the eye. "Glorfindel, you're in love."
15. perfect blue
"Oh, Erestor," Glorfindel sing-songed cheerfully, poking his head into Erestor's office to peer at the harassed advisor. "I'm back from Lothlorien! Did you miss me?"
Erestor gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore the blond menace.
"Of course you did!" Glorfindel answered his own question, waltzing in without a care in the world. "And - let me see. I might have brought you a present."
"I don't want anything your filthy paws have touched," Erestor snarled, glaring at the parchment in front of him fit to burn a hole in the paper.
"Hmm? Not even... trade agreements?" Glorfindel waggled a slightly crumpled scroll, bound with a bedraggled red ribbon. Erestor's head snapped up.
"I told Celeborn not to let you have that!"
"Well, he gave it to Lindir," Glorfindel admitted good-naturedly. "But then Lindir gave it to me, since I said I would drop by to see you. So you don't want this, now that my 'filthy paws' have defiled it?"
"Give. Me. The. Scroll," Erestor hissed, his face going crimson with fury. "NOW."
"Well, I wouldn't be much of a negotiator if I let you have it for nothing, would I?" Glorfindel mused. "We need an even trade. I don't need the scroll, but you do. I should get something I want, that's of no use to you. Such a dilemma..."
Erestor, no longer listening, made a lunge for the scroll. Glorfindel immediately held it out of his reach. "Ah, ah, ah, Counselor. No grabbing. And I have it!"
Erestor stared warily up at him. "What?"
"A kiss! Valar know you aren't giving them to anyone else."
As Erestor gaped at Glorfindel in a combination of shock and fury, the blond elf leaned down, sealed his mouth briefly over Erestor's, and dropped the scroll into his nerveless hands. "There you go. A satisfactory deal on all sides, wouldn't you say?"
He had turned to go when Erestor caught his breath and began screaming in outrage. "I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WOULD CURL UP IN A GUTTER AND DIE, YOU - YOU - YOU'RE OBNOXIOUS AND STUPID AND YOUR EYES ARE TOO VALAR-CURST BLUE!!!"
Glorfindel stopped, blinked, and turned around. "Wait, what?"
"Well, they are," Erestor said defensively. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked slightly confused. "They are! They're idiotically blue! That color doesn't exist in nature!"
"Have you spent a great deal of time contemplating the color of my eyes, then, Counselor?" Glorfindel asked slowly.
"Oh, just get out!" Erestor snapped angrily. It was not, Glorfindel noted, an answer to his question.
/He likes me,/ Glorfindel thought to himself as he wandered down the hall, nursing yet another sore cheek from the slap Erestor had delivered when he refused to exit swiftly enough to suit him. Disturbingly merrily, he began to whistle.
5. "ano sa" ("hey, you know....")
"Glorfindel, if you don't stop following me around, I'm going to start thinking that you're stalking me."
"Oh?" Glorfindel stepped out from behind the shadow of a pillar, where he had been hiding from view while he was, indeed, following Erestor. He looked mildly curious. "And if I were?"
"Then I suppose I would have to report you to the Captain of the Guard as a threat to my well-being and peace of mind."
"Hmm. Erestor, I am the Captain of the Guard."
Erestor cocked one head to the side. "Why, so you are. Then it would be in everyone's best interests if you stopped following me, wouldn't it?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow your logic, Counselor."
"Well, if you were to continue following me, I would conclude that you were stalking me. But my next action would be forestalled, and I would have no choice but to defend my virtue by means of violence."
"That would indeed be regrettable. More so since I am Captain of the Guard, and you are a skinny stick of an Advisor who couldn't even lift a sword, let alone swing it well enough to inflict damage upon my battle-hardened body."
"Ah. You might be correct, at that." Erestor fell silent, contemplating his next course of action. Glorfindel interrupted his train of thought.
"Hey, you know something?"
"I know many things, Captain."
"You're the prickliest, most annoying and stuck-up elf I've ever met."
"Is that so," Erestor replied coolly. "Remarkably, I was aware of the fact."
"Ah, but I'm not done. You're also obnoxiously superior, catty, under-muscled, and ridiculously pale, and," he continued, stepping ever-nearer to Erestor, until he had the Advisor trapped up against the wall, "I am absolutely, totally, one-hundred-percent crazy in love with you."
Erestor's infamously swift, well-trained mind stuttered, stalled, and ground to a complete halt. "I - what - you - " he stammered.
Glorfindel grinned at him, and swooped down for a kiss. About five seconds later, Erestor came to his senses at the unfamiliar (and not entirely unpleasant, added a traitorous corner of his mind) sensation of Glorfindel's tongue slipping between his lips. Erestor immediately jumped away and slapped Glorfindel full across the face. "You PERVERT! MANIAC! SLOBBERY UNRESTRAINED STALKER - "
Glorfindel walked off, whistling, completely undeterred by either the bright red handprint on his right cheek or the torrent of abuse Erestor sent after him. It was a start. And he had several centuries at the very least to wear the Advisor down.
30. kiss
"Well?" Erestor demanded.
Glorfindel shoved at the door one last, futile time, then shook his head. "It's locked," he explained belatedly, realizing that Erestor wouldn't be able to see his gesture.
"When we get out, I am going to tan Lindir's hide," Erestor snarled. "Of all the infantile pranks...!"
"Don't beat him too badly," Glorfindel sighed. "I'm pretty sure this was Melpomaen's idea to begin with. Lindir would have just dumped something wet and slimy on you and run."
Erestor stopped grinding his teeth. It was an open secret that Melpomaen was his favorite of the youngsters running loose in Rivendell, and could consequently get away with things even Lord Elrond (should his dignity allow him) would think twice about doing. "I'll beat Lindir for being a bad influence," he said at last. "You can beat Melpomaen for not choosing his accomplices better when Lindir tells me whose idea it was."
"Fair enough," Glorfindel said, grinning in the total darkness of the linen closet when he and Erestor were trapped. He was fond enough of Lindir, but he had no reservations about using him as a lightning rod for Erestor's displeasure.
Silence fell.
"Hey, Erestor, I'll tell you a secret if you'll tell me one," Glorfindel finally offered, as much to break the uncomfortable quiet as for any ulterior motive.
"I'd rather play chess," Erestor replied.
"We seem to be lacking a chessboard. As well as light to see it by."
"Can't you picture it in your head?" Erestor asked, surprised.
"Well, I could," Glorfindel admitted cheerfully, "but I would cheat, and we'd spend more time arguing about where my pieces were supposed to be than moving them."
"You could just not cheat this time," Erestor suggested dryly.
"Then you'd win. I'm terrible at chess."
"You beat me about half the games we play," Erestor pointed out.
"Yes, because I cheat."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
Glorfindel shrugged, forgetting that Erestor wouldn't see it. "You're a better player, so I cheat. It's just leveling the playing field."
"Hmm." Erestor actually sounded amused, rather than annoyed. Glorfindel perked up slightly at the first hopeful sign he'd had in weeks.
"So, who was your first kiss?"
"EXCUSE ME?"
"We're sharing secrets, remember? I'll tell you who mine was," Glorfindel coaxed.
"That's none of your business!" Erestor huffed.
"Wait. You have kissed someone before, right? I mean, I wasn't trying to rub salt in the wound or - "
"Yes, I have kissed, and been kissed, before," Erestor hissed.
"Oh, good. Mine was Ecthelion. It was my forty-fifth birthday present. He always was a cheap bastard."
Erestor snorted with laughter before he could stop himself. "Elrond."
"I'm Glorfindel, darling Counselor. If you confuse our names in bed, too, I'll be quite put out."
"No, you idiot, my first kiss was from Elrond. The first night I spent at Lindon. We met in the gardens while my parents were paying their respects to Gil-galad."
"Oh." Glorfindel carefully shut his mouth, grateful to the darkness for concealing the look of shock on his face. "Wait, so you and Elrond - "
"It was quite the whirlwind affair," Erestor said mildly. He waited a beat, then snapped, "Oh, for goodness' sake, I can hear your teeth clacking together from over here. I was curious, and Gil-galad wouldn't touch Elrond until he turned fifty, so he was looking for someone to experiment with."
"Until he turned fifty... how old were you?" Glorfindel yelped.
"Forty-three," Erestor replied smugly. "I was an early bloomer."
"You'd never know it to look at you," Glorfindel muttered under his breath. Erestor made an ominous-sounding cough, and he hurriedly continued, "First kiss from a female?"
"Galadriel," Erestor sighed, resigned.
"Galadriel? You lucky dog. She wouldn't give me the time of day."
"She used to come read over my shoulder in the library at Lindon when she wanted to make Celeborn jealous."
"Mine was Aredhel. She told me I reminded her of Celegorm," he added, disgruntled.
Erestor laughed. "It could be worse. You could have reminded her of Maedhros."
"Unlikely, considering his... 'attachment' to Fingon."
"That's my point."
"Oh." Glorfindel thought for a moment. "Most recent kiss?"
"Gildor. Not long after we first arrived here, before he decided he wanted to go wandering. You?"
"Celebrian's latest lady-in-waiting. Um. I can't remember her name."
"Minuial. I thought you gave up on her two years ago."
"I did."
"Oh."
Erestor heard a soft rustling, and then he felt Glorfindel's arm slide around his shoulders. "Hey, Erestor - "
"Did you mean it?" he asked abruptly.
"Did I mean what?" Glorfindel asked, confused.
"What you told me last year. About being - "
"Absolutely, totally, one-hundred-percent crazy in love with you," Glorfindel finished. "Yeah."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Glorfindel leaned over, feeling the warmth of Erestor's breath on his nose. He tilted his head a fraction of an angle, and moved the last few inches to seal his mouth over Erestor's.
Erestor sighed into the kiss, putting up remarkably little resistance. Just as his arms started to reach up to wrap around Glorfindel's neck -
"MERCIFUL MANWE!" came a shriek from the now-open door. "I'M SCARRED FOR LIFE!"
Glorfindel jerked back, then relaxed at the sound of footsteps rapidly heading away. "Look, Erestor, I'm - "
"CAPTAIN GLORFINDEL WAS KISSING COUNSELOR ERESTOR IN THE CLOSET!" echoed down the hall. The sound of a maid's gasp followed promptly after.
" - off to hold Lindir down so you can beat him to a bloody pulp," Glorfindel sighed, resting his forehead against Erestor's. "You don't have to say anything, I mean, I know we were in a closet and it was dark and you probably wouldn't have let me do that if you could see it coming - "
Erestor leaned up and kissed Glorfindel quickly. "It's all right. Go find Lindir. We can trade off holding him down. I'm sure you want to get a few punches in, too."
"Um. Right. Beatings." Glorfindel got to his feet and staggered off. "Oi! Lindir! Get back here! I need to kiss you! Dammit, I mean kill you! Or, wait..."
Erestor leaned back against the closet wall, eyes sparkling, and began to laugh.
24. good night
Glorfindel lay quietly in his warm, comfortable bed, thoroughly reveling in the afterglow and the resulting lassitude that weighed down his limbs. He was unhappily jolted out of it only when he felt his bedmate stirring in preparation to rise. "Where are you going?" he yawned, too relaxed to muster up a proper show of indignation.
"To bed," Erestor replied, in tones that implied that only a total idiot (which Glorfindel clearly was) would have needed to ask.
"Erestor, you're already in bed."
"My bed," Erestor specified, sighing. "We do have to get up tomorrow morning, you know."
"Um... so?" Glorfindel was genuinely confused, but when dealing with a creature as contrary as Erestor, he'd grown accustomed to it.
"So, I need sleep, which I won't get if we end up going another round. So I'm removing you from temptation. And I didn't bring a change of clothes with me." He paused, then looked pointedly down at his wrist. "Glorfindel, you can let go now."
"I... look, I'm not good at explaining these things. But I don't want... this... to be something where you can't stay the night. I realize you don't have much reason to believe me yet, but I love you, and I want you to stay, even if it's just to sleep - "
Erestor, losing patience with Glorfindel's rambling monologue, leaned down to cut him off with a kiss. "Good night, Glorfindel."
"You can borrow one of my robes in the morning," Glorfindel continued, not having quite processed yet the fact that Erestor was wriggling back under the covers.
"It wouldn't fit. Good night, Glorfindel." Erestor's voice was sharp, but he pulled Glorfindel's arm to lie across his chest with unaccustomed gentleness. Glorfindel nuzzled the back of his neck briefly in reply.
"Good night, Erestor."
*
Erestor woke with the sun shining directly into his eyes and a warm, wet sensation tracing patterns around his belly-button. "New curtains," he muttered, still half-asleep. "Any curtains. And - " Then the warm, wet feeling dipped into his navel, and he jerked upright, yelping. Glorfindel grinned up at him, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Glorfindel! We have a meeting to prepare for, so get your tongue right out of there and - SWEET NIENNA PUT IT BACK AGAIN."
Glorfindel happily obliged, and by the time Elrond came looking for his wayward Captain, both he and the good Counselor were fast asleep once more in the sun-bathed, messy sheets. Elrond smiled and locked the door as he exited, since there were, after all, many things in life more important than meetings, leaving behind the aftermath of a very good night indeed.
13. excessive chain
Erestor sat quietly in a corner of the banquet hall, nibbling on bread and cheese as he mowed through an immense stack of paperwork. Elrond had ordered him to attend the feast held in honor of Lady Galadriel's visit, but he had neglected to specify that his anti-social advisor participate in the festivities in any way beyond his presence; hence the pile of work. Every once in a while he would look up and glance around for the source of a particularly good-natured laugh, but otherwise he might as well have been holed up in his office.
"Why, Lord Glorfindel!" exclaimed one of Galadriel's ladies-in-waiting, loudly enough to be heard across the hall. "You are excessively charming, my good lord, and as a penalty for your outrageous compliments, I must demand the favor of a dance!"
"The favor would be granted to me alone," Glorfindel declared gallantly, and swept the chatty she-elf off to the dance floor to the accompaniment of much giggling from her friends. Erestor bit his lip and tried to concentrate on his work.
"Erestor?" Melpomaen sat down beside him. "You don't have to do that right now, do you?"
"I suppose not," Erestor sighed, "but it's better than making polite conversation."
"There is that," the younger elf agreed softly. He scooted closer to Erestor and placed a hand over his - the one not holding a pen. "I'll help."
"It's not necessary, child," Erestor said, smiling fondly at his assistant. "Go enjoy yourself. Surely one of the ladies of Lorien would like a dance?"
"I'd rather stay with you," Melpomaen replied firmly, and took a piece of parchment from the top of the stack. "Dinner menus? You must be desperate for an excuse to escape from company if you're reviewing these."
Erestor laughed. "Only a little."
Glorfindel glanced over at the two dark-haired elves sitting together in the corner as he returned the blond lady - he couldn't recall her name to save his life - to her friends. Erestor patted Melpomaen on the shoulder, smiling, and bent over a scroll with him. An inscrutable look flashed across Glorfindel's face, and he turned his attention back to his flock of female admirers.
*
"Well, that's done," Erestor proclaimed, rolling up the last scroll. Melpomaen yawned, and then blushed furiously. "And not a moment too soon, hmm, child? Off to bed with you."
Melpomaen smiled shyly. "Good night, lord Erestor."
"I've told you a dozen times, call me Erestor. Sweet dreams, young one." Erestor kissed Melpomaen's forehead gently and shooed him away.
Glorfindel's eyes glinted, and he bowed abruptly to his cooing coterie. "I fear I must bid you all good night, my ladies." He walked off without waiting for their farewells.
Erestor was still gathering up his armful of parchment went Glorfindel came up behind him. "Let's go, Erestor." Erestor jumped, and dropped a scroll.
"Oh! Glorfindel. Could you pick that up, please?"
Glorfindel scowled, snatched up the scroll, and seized Erestor by the arm, all but dragging him out of the room. "We're leaving now."
"Glorfindel - Glorfindel! What's gotten into you?" Erestor demanded crossly, forced to trot to keep up with the blond elf's longer legs.
"Nothing," Glorfindel gritted out, and hauled Erestor the rest of the distance to his suite. He threw the door open, shoved Erestor inside (scrolls and all) and slammed the door behind them.
"What is wrong with you?" Erestor snapped, carefully placing his documents on Glorfindel's never-used desk.
Glorfindel, still standing by the doorway, spun around to face Erestor. "Do you even care at all?"
"What? Glorfindel, have you been drinking?"
"Answer the question! Do you care at all about me?"
Erestor stared in shocked silence.
"Never mind. Of course you don't. If you did, you would have cared what I did with all those stupid ladies from Lothlorien. Instead you went off to flirt with Melpomaen. Why would I think you cared?"
"I - flirt? With Melpomaen? He's a quarter my age - if that! How could you even think I would - "
"Because you were!" Glorfindel shouted. "Do you think I'm blind? I've seen the way he looks at you! And you! Kissing him good-night! Did you even notice that I was trying to make you jealous?"
Erestor pressed his palms to his eyes. "I noticed you were off making friends with attractive ladies, which seems to be your second-favorite occupation in life. Are you saying that you want me to be jealous?"
"Mordor! Of course I do! I want you to rant and scream and tell me if I touch another woman you'll chop off my hands! At least then I'd know you had some slight interest in continuing this whatever-this-is with me!"
Inhalation, exhalation, inhalation. "Glorfindel. If you touch a woman while you're sleeping with me, I'll bypass your hands and chop off your balls. If you so much as look at someone who isn't me, male or female, with lewd intent, I will put out your eyes with a writing quill. Happy now?"
Glorfindel blinked. "Ah. Yes. Very. Thank you."
"Lovely. Shall we proceed straight to the make-up sex, then?"
"Mmmm..." Glorfindel swayed slightly on his feet. "I would, except I feel rather dizzy. I'm afraid I might be a trifle drunk..." With that, he collapsed into a heap on the ground.
"Considering all I put up with, you should have no doubt this is true love," Erestor muttered, and helped Glorfindel stumble into bed.
27. overflow
"GLORFINDEL!"
Glorfindel looked up, only mildly curious, at Erestor's furious howl and the slam of the door as it was shut behind the advancing advisor. "Yes, dear?"
"YOUR MINION HAS SEDUCED MY SECRETARY! PRODUCE HIM FORTHWITH SO I MAY GUT HIM LIKE THE SNAKE HE IS!"
Glorfindel blinked. "I have minions?"
Erestor made a sound normally only emitted by boiling teakettles. "Get your blond minstrel friend out here this instant. I will discuss semantics with you after I castrate him."
"He's Elrond's minstrel when he's doing something useful, he's my minion whenever he annoys you," Glorfindel muttered under his breath. "I don't know where Lindir is, Erestor. Have you considered checking with Melpomaen?"
Erestor's face went red with badly suppressed rage. "How long have you known about them?"
"If you mean by 'them' the fact that they're sleeping together, about a week. They've hardly been the souls of discretion, darling."
"Very well," Erestor hissed. "But if that wretch of a hack songwriter breaks Melpomaen's heart, you are not sleeping in my bed, Glorfindel, do I make myself clear?"
"If Lindir breaks Melpomaen's heart, I will go and smash his fingers myself," Glorfindel said soothingly.
Erestor glared. "I am going to go find Melpomaen," he announced coldly, and stormed out of the room.
"Is he gone?" came a voice from under Glorfindel's desk.
"Yes, you half-wit," Glorfindel replied wearily. "Get out, please."
"You could have been a little more protective of your friend, you know," Lindir said as he crawled out from beneath the desk. "Offering to break my fingers wasn't very nice."
"I said I'd hide you from Erestor today. I never said anything about sacrificing my love-life for yours. Did you have to go and sleep with Melpomaen?" Glorfindel demanded. "Anyone else in the Valley would have been a safer choice. Mordor, Elrond would have been a safer choice."
"Yes," Lindir said dreamily. "His hair is like the night sky when the stars are out, and his skin is soft as silk and pale as cream. His eyes are bright as gemstones - I composed a song to them - "
"Shut up. Please. Hiding you from Erestor's wrath is one thing; listening to your trite love-ballads is another. And Melpomaen's eyes are brown."
"Such a plebeian word could never describe his orbs of delight!" Lindir protested passionately. "Say rather chestnut, mahogany, mere shades warmer and lighter than ebony..."
Glorfindel put his head on his desk and his hands over his ears. The things he went through for friendship.
*
Erestor slipped into bed beside Glorfindel long after his lover had turned in. Glorfindel nuzzled at him, half-asleep, before opening his eyes. "Did you talk to Melpomaen?" he asked, yawning.
"Mmm. Yes. For the moment, I shall leave Lindir's elfhood intact."
"Oh, good," Glorfindel sighed. "Imagine how much more unpleasant all those high-pitched love songs would be if he were singing soprano."
"Be quiet," Erestor ordered, and kissed him to enforce it.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Glorfindel mused, some time later, his arms wrapped securely around his lover as they curled up on messy sheets. "That my friend and your student are together, I mean."
"I don't think so," Erestor replied sleepily. "I was overreacting today. I'll try not to let them affect us too much."
"I like it when they affect us like this," Glorfindel remarked suggestively. Erestor groped behind his back for a pillow, whacked Glorfindel with it half-heartedly, and cuddled up against the blond as he dozed off to sleep.
1. look over here
"Hey, Erestor." Glorfindel perched on the edge of Erestor's desk, peering down at the various papers scattered all over. "What are you writing?"
"Work," Erestor mumbled. "Go away."
"E-res-tor," Glorfindel whined, pouting. Erestor ignored him. "Erestor!"
Silence, save for the scritching of Erestor's pen.
"Well, fine." Glorfindel jumped down and stormed out of the room. At the sound of the door slamming shut, Erestor finally glanced up.
"What?" He looked around, puzzled. "Where did... oh well." He shrugged, and went back to work.
*
"...and he never pays attention to me, I might as well be involved with his bloody desk for all the affection I get -"
Arwen, age three, gurgled sympathetically.
"Well, at least you understand," Glorfindel sighed, placated. Arwen eyed him in consideration, then hurled her favorite stuffed toy at his head. Glorfindel caught it with the reflexes of either a battle-tried warrior or an experienced parent. "No, I don't think starting a fight would work," he told her, frowning. She blew spit-bubbles at him, and he laughed softly. "Well, maybe that might do it. I bow to your feminine perspective." Glorfindel exited the nursery, whistling. Arwen yawned and curled up for a nap, sucking firmly on her thumb. Relationship counseling was so tiring.
*
Glorfindel bided his time through dinner, while Erestor picked sleepily at his food. Even the twins seemed too tired to manage any spectacular mischief, much to their mother's relief, so all in all it was a fairly boring meal. By the end of it, however, Elrond was staring suspiciously at Glorfindel, disturbed by the blond's air of suppressed excitement.
As the dishes were cleared away, Erestor shuffled off to his room, and Glorfindel bounced along after him. "Erestor!"
The dark-haired elf kept on walking. "What do you want?"
Glorfindel wilted. Shot down again. "Um... well, I just thought, maybe, if you aren't busy, we could play a game of chess after dinner...?"
"You hate chess, and I'm tired."
Double strike out. "Well... then maybe we could have a glass of wine in my rooms?"
"Some other time."
Third time was clearly not the charm, and Glorfindel had exhausted both his planning facilities and his patience. As Erestor fumbled in his pocket for his key, Glorfindel flung himself, arms spread wide, in front of the other elf's door. "Look at me!" he begged passionately. "Pay attention to me! Look me in the face when you talk to me, for the love of all the Valar! Am I invisible?!"
Erestor looked at him calmly. "Is this why you've been pestering me all day?"
Glorfindel deflated. "Um... yes."
"I see. Glorfindel, I've been busy and I'm tired. If you're feeling neglected, it would expedite the process of apologizing and making up if you would just say so." He stood on tip-toe long enough to press a light kiss to Glorfindel's mouth. While the blond was still gaping in shock, he slipped past him, entered his room, and shut the door. The sound of the lock snicking shut snapped Glorfindel out of his reverie.
"What? That's it? One kiss? Erestor, that's not fair! I've been upset all day - I should get more than just one kiss!"
He could just hear Erestor's low, rich laughter through the thick door. "Some other time, Glorfindel."
8. our own world
"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 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 you 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 still 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."
19. red
"Erestor?"
"Hmm?" Erestor yawned and sat up, glancing around the bedroom for his lover. Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. "Glorfindel, did you say something?"
"Yes." The blond elf emerged from their closet, dressed only in a shirt. Erestor's stomach flipped as he took in all the bare, muscled thigh on display, and he stretched languorously, hoping that Glorfindel would take the hint and come back to bed. "Erestor, why is every single item of clothing you possess black?"
Erestor suppressed a snarl and settled for a brief glare. Glorfindel was not going to ruin his mood. "Does it matter?" he asked, climbing out of bed. He neglected to take the sheet with him, revealing that he was not wearing black at the moment. Or anything, for that matter. A quick toss of his head sent his hair tumbling out of its loose knot to frame his face as he pouted seductively at Glorfindel.
"Well, not really, I suppose," Glorfindel admitted. Yes! Victory! Erestor thought triumphantly. "It's just a little odd that you wouldn't even have any blue. It seems rather morbid to walk around dressed in black all the time."
"Do we really need to discuss this now?" Erestor forced out from between gritted teeth. If Glorfindel didn't stop talking and put his mouth to better use very soon...
"But we'll have more important things to do later. We always do. And - "
Glorfindel was forced to break off his remark as Erestor, out of patience, launched himself at his half-naked lover and latched onto his mouth. "Bed. Sex. Now," he growled, taking advantage of Glorfindel's distraction by ripping off his shirt.
"Huh? Oh. Oh! Right!" As Glorfindel scooped him up and carried him the short distance back to bed, the tiny corner of Erestor's mind that was not yet wholly distracted by the potential of any situation that contained a completely naked Glorfindel and a bed smugly considered the topic well and truly dropped.
*
A few weeks later, however, it resurfaced in the form of a neat package on their messily made bed. "I, um, thought you might like to try a different color for once," Glorfindel explained awkwardly.
"Like what?" Erestor asked warily.
"Uh. Red."
"Right." Shrugging, Erestor untied the wrapping and took out the contents. There was a long pause as he examined it, eyebrows inching ever higher. "Glorfindel," he said finally, "there is no way I am ever wearing this in public."
"I kind of only wanted you to wear it in private, anyway," Glorfindel admitted, turning violently crimson.
"Well, then." Erestor folded up the little red number and looked over at his lover, smirking. "Why don't you convince me?"
12. in a good mood
Elrond looked out the window of his office and sighed. The sky was a miserable shade of gray, and precipitation that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be fog, drizzle or a very light snow-flurry only added to the general gloom. Glorfindel, unsurprisingly, was late for a meeting. Glorfindel hated rain - hated any weather that wasn't sunny, really - but worst of all, he loathed the uncertain, waiting feeling that accompanied wet, cloudy days. Better an honest thunderstorm, he would always say, scowling. Working with him in bad weather was an unholy bitch.
Just as Elrond began to contemplate the wisdom of adjourning for a very lengthy lunch break, Glorfindel wandered into the office, whistling the tune to an extremely bawdy drinking song. He was even in tune. Elrond stared. "Ah, good morning, Glorfindel."
"Good morning, Elrond!" Glorfindel replied genially. "Shall we get to work on that armory budget?"
Now Elrond was starting to suspect that Glorfindel had either been kidnapped and impersonated, or possessed. He practically needed to hold the blond warrior at swordpoint to get him to so much as look at a ledger sheet. He claimed that the numbers gave him a headache. "You seem rather... chipper... this morning, Glorfindel."
"And why shouldn't I be?" Glorfindel asked merrily. "It's a beautiful day!"
Elrond glanced out the window again, just to check whether he had hallucinated the view earlier. It was still gray, wet and cold.
Before he could test his captain of the guard for fever or demonic residue, Melpomaen, Erestor's assistant, burst into the room. "Lord Elrond, you have to come now! Master Erestor is sick!"
Elrond immediately rose, alarmed. "Whatever is the matter with him?"
"He was late this morning - late! Master Erestor! - and now he isn't working on the correspondence with Lothlorien, he just keeps staring out the window and sighing! He must be sick!"
Glorfindel looked up from the budget sheet in front of him. "He was perfectly healthy earlier this morning... even energetic, I'd say." One eyebrow tilted upwards suggestively.
"Ah," Elrond said eloquently. That solved a number of mysteries, really.
"Here's your budget," Glorfindel added, dropping the scribbled-out sheet of parchment in front of Elrond. "I think I might go visit Erestor for lunch." He kissed both Elrond and Melpomaen on the cheek in an overflow of excess affection, and waltzed out, singing to himself.
"Lord Elrond?" Melpomaen asked, gazing after Glorfindel in confusion.
"Just sit down and don't think about it," Elrond sighed. He picked up the budget and scanned it quickly. All seemed to be in order, wonder of wonders... wait, since when was scented massage oil part of the armory stock? "GLORFINDEL!"
*
"What in the name of Iluvatar...?" Celeborn muttered to himself as he looked over the latest packet of official documents from Rivendell.
"What's the matter, dear?" his wife inquired, leaning over his shoulder to examine the letter in his hands.
It was a sheet of paper completely covered with doodles of Glorfindel's name inside hearts of varying sizes.
"It looks like Erestor's handwriting, but..."
"Oh. That," Galadriel interrupted. "Don't worry about it, darling. It's not important."
"But - "
She cut him off with a kiss. "Really, darling," she repeated, settling into his lap. "Don't worry about it."
As he generally did in such situations, Celeborn decided to simply take his wife's advice. After all, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
9. dash
"Stop being such an enormous baby about this, Glorfindel."
"It hurts!"
"Well, it will hurt worse if it gets infected, so sit still and let me stitch it shut!"
"You could be a little gentler, you know!"
"I would be gentler if you would stop moving the cheek I'm trying to sew up!"
"Well - "
"Shut up. Both of you. The sooner this gets done, the sooner we can all go back to our rooms and forget that this little temper tantrum ever happened."
Both Elrond and Glorfindel glanced back at Erestor, suddenly reminded of his presence in the otherwise-empty Hall of Healing. Glorfindel began to protest, but it wilted under Erestor's glare.
"There, all set," Elrond said a few minutes later, after stitching up the slice in Glorfindel's cheek as quickly as possible. "Use this salve on it three times a day, and if it feels at all hot or swollen, come right to me. I'm going to bed." He nodded to Erestor and left the room before either of them could wish him a good night.
Glorfindel sat quietly and waited. He was not long in suspense. "You're an idiot. You've killed more orcs than anyone can count, frightened off a Nazgul, defeated a Balrog, for pity's sake, and you can't duck a swing in a practice match?"
"I'm sorry," Glorfindel sighed.
"Well, you should be," Erestor sniffed, but most of the wind had been taken from his sails by Glorfindel's easy acquiescence. "Come on, let's go to our rooms. I hate this hall. It's depressing."
Glorfindel followed Erestor obediently, seeming lost in thought. Erestor glanced back at him worriedly several times, and when they finally reached their bedroom, he asked, "Is everything all right?"
"Are you angry?"
Erestor blinked. "I'm angry that you frightened me."
"No, I mean, are you angry that my face will be scarred now? It'll probably be ugly."
"Don't be ridiculous," Erestor said dismissively. "Elrond's an excellent healer, and I'm sure any scarring will fade eventually. And anyway," he added, pressing a gentle kiss just to the side of Glorfindel's stitches, "I think it'll look rather dashing."
Part II
When Imladris was first founded by a group of rag-tag refugees, led by one Elrond Peredhel of Lindon, it was a regrettable fact that those who followed him from Gil-galad's city were forced to leave behind a number of their accustomed creature comforts. Erestor, late of Lindon, found that the one thing he missed most of all, far more than exotic dinners or seamstresses to mend his fancy dress robes, was his desk. The carpenters were so busy making houses and beds and cabinets that no one had yet gotten around to making furniture for Erestor's office, so at the moment his "office" was merely his bedroom. He read official correspondence in bed, and on the occasions when he needed to forge Elrond's signature on some document or other, he did so on the cold stone floor. All in all, he found this a highly dissatisfying arrangement.
Thus it was that he learned of the arrival of an unusually large, golden-haired elf to the valley not behind the desk where he was to spend the better part of the next millennium, but rather on his way to the simple supper served every night in the Fire Hall. Upon receiving this tidbit of news, Erestor blinked owlishly at its carrier, Lindir the minstrel, and asked, "Has he given his purpose for his visit?"
Lindir fidgeted slightly, anxious for his supper. "He said he was looking for a place in the guard here."
"Can he fight?" Erestor inquired, already paging through the guard roster in his head, looking for openings. There were too many; Imladris was, as of yet, sadly underdefended.
"He wears a sword across his back that I couldn't lift," Lindir replied with a shrug. "I really don't know, Lord Erestor."
"Well, tell him to come to me if he is seeking a position," Erestor instructed the minstrel, and glided away, his mind already occupied by greater worries.
*
The next day, Erestor's breakfast was interrupted by Lindir, followed by a very tall, muscular, blond elf. The stranger's head was bowed and his hair was loose, so Erestor couldn't tell if his face matched his highly attractive body. "Lord Erestor, this is Glorfindel," Lindir introduced him hurriedly. "He wants a place with the guards." His task completed, the minstrel scurried off in search of food.
"Glorfindel of Gondolin?" Erestor laughed softly, amused by the effrontery of whatever mother had named her child after the famous Balrog-slayer.
"I was of Gondolin once," Glorfindel agreed quietly. "Now I hope to be of Imladris."
Erestor looked up at him sharply. Glorfindel had lifted his chin, so the advisor could now see the shy smile flickering across the stranger's face. "All who wish to join our lord are welcome here," he said, neither coldly nor warmly. It was simple statement of fact. "And we are perilously short of competent swordsmen, so if you are as good with yon table-knife as the tales would claim, then you are well come indeed, Glorfindel of Rivendell."
Glorfindel's smile widened and solidified, and without warning he seized Erestor's hand, placing a firm kiss in the center of his palm. Erestor coughed, and Glorfindel flushed, dropping his hand like a hot coal as he realized that the entire hall was staring at him. "I know not how gratitude was expressed in Gondolin," Erestor said mildly, "but here a simple, 'thank you,' is sufficient. Perhaps a bow, if you feel very deeply. A kiss is unnecessary."
To Glorfindel's credit, he bowed with startling grace, despite his crimson cheeks. "I thank you, then, Lord Erestor."
The next few months, as Glorfindel settled in enough to become thoroughly cheerful and obnoxious, provided enough friction between the two to wipe away their first observations of each other, but nonetheless, Erestor did once note that Glorfindel was truly adorable when he blushed, and Glorfindel that Erestor's eyes sparkled beautifully when he was trying not to laugh.
22. cradle
Glorfindel crept down the hall with unusual stealth, given that he generally announced his arrival from a good thirty feet away with loud, off-key whistling. He'd sustained what he had indignantly informed Elrond was nothing even close to a serious injury and had been confined by his mother-hennish lord to a week's worth of bed-rest. Glorfindel hated bed-rest. It was dull. Thus, as soon as dark fell, he made his escape from the Halls of Healing (which, aside from being boring as Erestor's minutes of council meetings, also smelled unpleasantly of some pungent herb) and headed for his rooms, from whence, once ensconced, nothing short of a siege could remove him.
The sound of an almost painfully tuneless lullaby distracted him from his quest, and Glorfindel paused outside the doorway of the twins' nursery, wondering which of the chamber maids could possibly have such a poor sense of pitch. It certainly wasn't one of Celebrian's ladies-in-waiting; they were all frighteningly accomplished and could sing beautifully, embroider tastefully, paint pretty little pastoral scenes, and speak several languages. On the whole, Glorfindel found ladies-in-waiting to be useless wastes of space (except, naturally, bedspace), and preferred the chambermaids, who at least possessed some sort of viable skill. He doubted any of the fine elven ladies of Rivendell could scrub a floor.
Even for a chambermaid, the voice was low, and unfamiliar. Glorfindel's eyes brightened at the thought of a new chambermaid (and thus one he had not already despoiled, in the friendliest possible fashion, of her virtue), and pushed the door, left slightly ajar, open wider. He took in the sight before him, and his jaw dropped.
Erestor, Erestor the Dull, Erestor the Heartless, Erestor the Horrendously Supercilious and Annoying, was rocking one of the infant twins in his arms with an expression of outright adoration on his face. Even as Glorfindel watched, agape with shock, the dark-haired Counselor finished his lullaby, kissed the sleeping baby's forehead, and gently tucked him back into the cradle beside his twin. "Shh," he murmured, when the baby whimpered and made as if to stir, "you don't want to wake your brother, do you, Elladan?" He settled into a chair beside the cradle and began to swing the twins' bed slowly back and forth. The cranky twin - Glorfindel couldn't tell them apart, to tell the truth, but if Erestor said it was Elladan he was probably right - quieted down and began sucking his thumb, fast asleep.
Erestor smiled. He had a beautiful smile, really, Glorfindel observed. It was almost a pity he used it so seldom. But then, it was all the more attractive for its rarity, especially if Glorfindel and the baby twins were the only ones to have seen -
Glorfindel cut off this train of thought with a shake of his head, amused by his own flights of fancy. He crept off down the hall once more, as Erestor began singing once more.
He really needed to find a new chambermaid. That would stop him from having strange ideas about how pretty Erestor was when he smiled.
3. jolt!
Glorfindel wandered down the halls of Rivendell in the general direction of his room. It was some obscenely early hour of the morning, a well-earned headache throbbed dully behind his temples, and a disgustingly smug grin had taken up residence on his lips. The latest in his series of conquests among the ladies-in-waiting had thrown him out for making one too many suggestive comments in his drunken haze, but it did little to dampen Glorfindel's cheer. He did so enjoy a challenge.
"If all the world and love were young, and truth in every shepherd's tongue," he sang softly to himself, "these pretty pleasures might - Good morning, Counselor Erestor!"
"Hmmm?" Erestor turned to stare at him blankly, and Glorfindel felt his good mood slipping away, replaced by worry. Erestor's cheeks were flushed, his hair disheveled, and his eyes strangely glazed over.
"Sweet Eru, Erestor, are you drunk?" Glorfindel demanded in disbelief. He'd never so much as seen Elrond's advisor slightly tipsy.
"Oh... good morning, Glorf..." Erestor swayed once and crumpled to the floor.
"Erestor!" Glorfindel immediately dropped to his knees beside the counselor. His breath was coming shallowly and too rapidly for comfort, and his forehead, when Glorfindel laid the back of his hand over it, was warm. Glorfindel cursed, all ladies-in-waiting forgotten, and scooped Erestor up into his arms, intent on carrying him to Elrond.
*
"Lord Elrond, are you awake?" Glorfindel yelled, pounding on his door. He was forced to stop briefly as his precarious one-armed grip on Erestor started to slip, and Elrond opened the door, sleep-tousled and furious.
"Strange as it may sound, Glorfindel, I was asleep... is that Erestor?"
"I don't know what's wrong with him," Glorfindel explained, biting his lip. "He collapsed in the middle of the hall. I thought he might be drunk..."
Elrond placed a slender hand on Erestor's flushed cheek to check his temperature, and rolled his eyes. "He's not drunk, Glorfindel, he's sick. Carry him into my spare bedroom, please. I keep most of my medical supplies in there."
Glorfindel obediently followed Elrond into the next room and set his light-weight burden down on the bed. Erestor tossed his head on the pillow, his hair tangling around his face. Feeling oddly compassionate, Glorfindel smoothed the messy locks behind Erestor's ears. "Will he be all right?" he asked, still looking down at Erestor instead of Elrond.
Elrond made a low sound of disgust. "In a week or so, if he rests properly. He always overworks, and he always gets sick, and then he always ruins his recovery trying to go back to work too soon." He sighed, and came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Glorfindel, gazing down at Erestor worriedly. "He never listens to me." He pressed his lips together, then leaned forward to kiss Erestor's forehead gently.
"More to you than to anyone else," Glorfindel laughed, an unfamiliar sensation building in the pit of his stomach. "But if you're sure he'll be fine, I should go get changed and get to work." Elrond glanced over at him, finally noticed that he was still wearing the previous night's outfit, and raised an eyebrow in eloquent silence. Glorfindel grinned sheepishly and turned to leave.
When he reached the doorway, he looked back. Erestor's eyes had opened, although they were still dazed, and he was mumbling nonsense - probably about the cleaning budget, Glorfindel thought uncharitably, annoyed for no real reason. As Elrond tried to press Erestor back down on the bed, the counselor's fever-bright eyes met Glorfindel's. Erestor smiled suddenly, and allowed Elrond to push his head down to the pillow. Glorfindel, abruptly aware that his heart was pounding, hurried out of the room.
18. "say ahh...."
"Um... Lord Elrond?"
Elrond looked up from his desk and smiled. "What can I do for you, Captain?"
Glorfindel twisted his hands together behind his back. "How is Erestor doing?" he blurted
"He'll be back to work in no time at all," Elrond said reassuringly. "You've seen him at meals yourself. He's as cranky and crabby and self-sufficient as ever."
"Oh. Um. Good."
Elrond waited, but Glorfindel did not continue. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about, Glorfindel?"
"No! I mean, um, yes, sort of." Glorfindel took a deep breath, and finally rushed out, "I think I'm sick."
Elrond looked down to hide his smile, then got to his feet and walked around his desk to stand in front of Glorfindel. "What are your symptoms?"
"Well, I keep feeling short of breath, and my heart starts beating really hard, even when I haven't been exercising. And I feel dizzy sometimes, and I feel hot even when I know the temperature is perfectly normal. Oh, and one of the maids told me I look flushed a lot of the time, like I have a fever."
"And those are all your symptoms?"
"I think so," Glorfindel said, puzzled by Elrond's stern look.
"Is there any common thread linking them together? Say, they all happen whenever you see a certain person?"
"How did you - " Glorfindel caught himself, went red, and looked at the floor.
"I can't diagnose you properly if you don't tell me everything," Elrond reprimanded him mildly. He placed his hands on Glorfindel's shoulders firmly and gazed straight into the blond's eyes. "Hmm. Well, do you want my professional opinion?"
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Glorfindel muttered sulkily.
Elrond's mouth twitched, and he stood on tip-toe to kiss Glorfindel's cheek. He would have aimed for the forehead, but even when Glorfindel was slouching, as he was at the moment, he couldn't reach. "I'm afraid it's a rather serious condition, although it's not fatal. I've no cure for you, my dear Captain."
"Hey! You're just going to say I have a serious condition and then tell me you can't treat it?"
Elrond laughed. "Oh, Glorfindel. I can't treat you for this." He caught Glorfindel's face between his hands, forcing the captain to look him in the eye. "Glorfindel, you're in love."
15. perfect blue
"Oh, Erestor," Glorfindel sing-songed cheerfully, poking his head into Erestor's office to peer at the harassed advisor. "I'm back from Lothlorien! Did you miss me?"
Erestor gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore the blond menace.
"Of course you did!" Glorfindel answered his own question, waltzing in without a care in the world. "And - let me see. I might have brought you a present."
"I don't want anything your filthy paws have touched," Erestor snarled, glaring at the parchment in front of him fit to burn a hole in the paper.
"Hmm? Not even... trade agreements?" Glorfindel waggled a slightly crumpled scroll, bound with a bedraggled red ribbon. Erestor's head snapped up.
"I told Celeborn not to let you have that!"
"Well, he gave it to Lindir," Glorfindel admitted good-naturedly. "But then Lindir gave it to me, since I said I would drop by to see you. So you don't want this, now that my 'filthy paws' have defiled it?"
"Give. Me. The. Scroll," Erestor hissed, his face going crimson with fury. "NOW."
"Well, I wouldn't be much of a negotiator if I let you have it for nothing, would I?" Glorfindel mused. "We need an even trade. I don't need the scroll, but you do. I should get something I want, that's of no use to you. Such a dilemma..."
Erestor, no longer listening, made a lunge for the scroll. Glorfindel immediately held it out of his reach. "Ah, ah, ah, Counselor. No grabbing. And I have it!"
Erestor stared warily up at him. "What?"
"A kiss! Valar know you aren't giving them to anyone else."
As Erestor gaped at Glorfindel in a combination of shock and fury, the blond elf leaned down, sealed his mouth briefly over Erestor's, and dropped the scroll into his nerveless hands. "There you go. A satisfactory deal on all sides, wouldn't you say?"
He had turned to go when Erestor caught his breath and began screaming in outrage. "I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WOULD CURL UP IN A GUTTER AND DIE, YOU - YOU - YOU'RE OBNOXIOUS AND STUPID AND YOUR EYES ARE TOO VALAR-CURST BLUE!!!"
Glorfindel stopped, blinked, and turned around. "Wait, what?"
"Well, they are," Erestor said defensively. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked slightly confused. "They are! They're idiotically blue! That color doesn't exist in nature!"
"Have you spent a great deal of time contemplating the color of my eyes, then, Counselor?" Glorfindel asked slowly.
"Oh, just get out!" Erestor snapped angrily. It was not, Glorfindel noted, an answer to his question.
/He likes me,/ Glorfindel thought to himself as he wandered down the hall, nursing yet another sore cheek from the slap Erestor had delivered when he refused to exit swiftly enough to suit him. Disturbingly merrily, he began to whistle.
5. "ano sa" ("hey, you know....")
"Glorfindel, if you don't stop following me around, I'm going to start thinking that you're stalking me."
"Oh?" Glorfindel stepped out from behind the shadow of a pillar, where he had been hiding from view while he was, indeed, following Erestor. He looked mildly curious. "And if I were?"
"Then I suppose I would have to report you to the Captain of the Guard as a threat to my well-being and peace of mind."
"Hmm. Erestor, I am the Captain of the Guard."
Erestor cocked one head to the side. "Why, so you are. Then it would be in everyone's best interests if you stopped following me, wouldn't it?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow your logic, Counselor."
"Well, if you were to continue following me, I would conclude that you were stalking me. But my next action would be forestalled, and I would have no choice but to defend my virtue by means of violence."
"That would indeed be regrettable. More so since I am Captain of the Guard, and you are a skinny stick of an Advisor who couldn't even lift a sword, let alone swing it well enough to inflict damage upon my battle-hardened body."
"Ah. You might be correct, at that." Erestor fell silent, contemplating his next course of action. Glorfindel interrupted his train of thought.
"Hey, you know something?"
"I know many things, Captain."
"You're the prickliest, most annoying and stuck-up elf I've ever met."
"Is that so," Erestor replied coolly. "Remarkably, I was aware of the fact."
"Ah, but I'm not done. You're also obnoxiously superior, catty, under-muscled, and ridiculously pale, and," he continued, stepping ever-nearer to Erestor, until he had the Advisor trapped up against the wall, "I am absolutely, totally, one-hundred-percent crazy in love with you."
Erestor's infamously swift, well-trained mind stuttered, stalled, and ground to a complete halt. "I - what - you - " he stammered.
Glorfindel grinned at him, and swooped down for a kiss. About five seconds later, Erestor came to his senses at the unfamiliar (and not entirely unpleasant, added a traitorous corner of his mind) sensation of Glorfindel's tongue slipping between his lips. Erestor immediately jumped away and slapped Glorfindel full across the face. "You PERVERT! MANIAC! SLOBBERY UNRESTRAINED STALKER - "
Glorfindel walked off, whistling, completely undeterred by either the bright red handprint on his right cheek or the torrent of abuse Erestor sent after him. It was a start. And he had several centuries at the very least to wear the Advisor down.
30. kiss
"Well?" Erestor demanded.
Glorfindel shoved at the door one last, futile time, then shook his head. "It's locked," he explained belatedly, realizing that Erestor wouldn't be able to see his gesture.
"When we get out, I am going to tan Lindir's hide," Erestor snarled. "Of all the infantile pranks...!"
"Don't beat him too badly," Glorfindel sighed. "I'm pretty sure this was Melpomaen's idea to begin with. Lindir would have just dumped something wet and slimy on you and run."
Erestor stopped grinding his teeth. It was an open secret that Melpomaen was his favorite of the youngsters running loose in Rivendell, and could consequently get away with things even Lord Elrond (should his dignity allow him) would think twice about doing. "I'll beat Lindir for being a bad influence," he said at last. "You can beat Melpomaen for not choosing his accomplices better when Lindir tells me whose idea it was."
"Fair enough," Glorfindel said, grinning in the total darkness of the linen closet when he and Erestor were trapped. He was fond enough of Lindir, but he had no reservations about using him as a lightning rod for Erestor's displeasure.
Silence fell.
"Hey, Erestor, I'll tell you a secret if you'll tell me one," Glorfindel finally offered, as much to break the uncomfortable quiet as for any ulterior motive.
"I'd rather play chess," Erestor replied.
"We seem to be lacking a chessboard. As well as light to see it by."
"Can't you picture it in your head?" Erestor asked, surprised.
"Well, I could," Glorfindel admitted cheerfully, "but I would cheat, and we'd spend more time arguing about where my pieces were supposed to be than moving them."
"You could just not cheat this time," Erestor suggested dryly.
"Then you'd win. I'm terrible at chess."
"You beat me about half the games we play," Erestor pointed out.
"Yes, because I cheat."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
Glorfindel shrugged, forgetting that Erestor wouldn't see it. "You're a better player, so I cheat. It's just leveling the playing field."
"Hmm." Erestor actually sounded amused, rather than annoyed. Glorfindel perked up slightly at the first hopeful sign he'd had in weeks.
"So, who was your first kiss?"
"EXCUSE ME?"
"We're sharing secrets, remember? I'll tell you who mine was," Glorfindel coaxed.
"That's none of your business!" Erestor huffed.
"Wait. You have kissed someone before, right? I mean, I wasn't trying to rub salt in the wound or - "
"Yes, I have kissed, and been kissed, before," Erestor hissed.
"Oh, good. Mine was Ecthelion. It was my forty-fifth birthday present. He always was a cheap bastard."
Erestor snorted with laughter before he could stop himself. "Elrond."
"I'm Glorfindel, darling Counselor. If you confuse our names in bed, too, I'll be quite put out."
"No, you idiot, my first kiss was from Elrond. The first night I spent at Lindon. We met in the gardens while my parents were paying their respects to Gil-galad."
"Oh." Glorfindel carefully shut his mouth, grateful to the darkness for concealing the look of shock on his face. "Wait, so you and Elrond - "
"It was quite the whirlwind affair," Erestor said mildly. He waited a beat, then snapped, "Oh, for goodness' sake, I can hear your teeth clacking together from over here. I was curious, and Gil-galad wouldn't touch Elrond until he turned fifty, so he was looking for someone to experiment with."
"Until he turned fifty... how old were you?" Glorfindel yelped.
"Forty-three," Erestor replied smugly. "I was an early bloomer."
"You'd never know it to look at you," Glorfindel muttered under his breath. Erestor made an ominous-sounding cough, and he hurriedly continued, "First kiss from a female?"
"Galadriel," Erestor sighed, resigned.
"Galadriel? You lucky dog. She wouldn't give me the time of day."
"She used to come read over my shoulder in the library at Lindon when she wanted to make Celeborn jealous."
"Mine was Aredhel. She told me I reminded her of Celegorm," he added, disgruntled.
Erestor laughed. "It could be worse. You could have reminded her of Maedhros."
"Unlikely, considering his... 'attachment' to Fingon."
"That's my point."
"Oh." Glorfindel thought for a moment. "Most recent kiss?"
"Gildor. Not long after we first arrived here, before he decided he wanted to go wandering. You?"
"Celebrian's latest lady-in-waiting. Um. I can't remember her name."
"Minuial. I thought you gave up on her two years ago."
"I did."
"Oh."
Erestor heard a soft rustling, and then he felt Glorfindel's arm slide around his shoulders. "Hey, Erestor - "
"Did you mean it?" he asked abruptly.
"Did I mean what?" Glorfindel asked, confused.
"What you told me last year. About being - "
"Absolutely, totally, one-hundred-percent crazy in love with you," Glorfindel finished. "Yeah."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Glorfindel leaned over, feeling the warmth of Erestor's breath on his nose. He tilted his head a fraction of an angle, and moved the last few inches to seal his mouth over Erestor's.
Erestor sighed into the kiss, putting up remarkably little resistance. Just as his arms started to reach up to wrap around Glorfindel's neck -
"MERCIFUL MANWE!" came a shriek from the now-open door. "I'M SCARRED FOR LIFE!"
Glorfindel jerked back, then relaxed at the sound of footsteps rapidly heading away. "Look, Erestor, I'm - "
"CAPTAIN GLORFINDEL WAS KISSING COUNSELOR ERESTOR IN THE CLOSET!" echoed down the hall. The sound of a maid's gasp followed promptly after.
" - off to hold Lindir down so you can beat him to a bloody pulp," Glorfindel sighed, resting his forehead against Erestor's. "You don't have to say anything, I mean, I know we were in a closet and it was dark and you probably wouldn't have let me do that if you could see it coming - "
Erestor leaned up and kissed Glorfindel quickly. "It's all right. Go find Lindir. We can trade off holding him down. I'm sure you want to get a few punches in, too."
"Um. Right. Beatings." Glorfindel got to his feet and staggered off. "Oi! Lindir! Get back here! I need to kiss you! Dammit, I mean kill you! Or, wait..."
Erestor leaned back against the closet wall, eyes sparkling, and began to laugh.
24. good night
Glorfindel lay quietly in his warm, comfortable bed, thoroughly reveling in the afterglow and the resulting lassitude that weighed down his limbs. He was unhappily jolted out of it only when he felt his bedmate stirring in preparation to rise. "Where are you going?" he yawned, too relaxed to muster up a proper show of indignation.
"To bed," Erestor replied, in tones that implied that only a total idiot (which Glorfindel clearly was) would have needed to ask.
"Erestor, you're already in bed."
"My bed," Erestor specified, sighing. "We do have to get up tomorrow morning, you know."
"Um... so?" Glorfindel was genuinely confused, but when dealing with a creature as contrary as Erestor, he'd grown accustomed to it.
"So, I need sleep, which I won't get if we end up going another round. So I'm removing you from temptation. And I didn't bring a change of clothes with me." He paused, then looked pointedly down at his wrist. "Glorfindel, you can let go now."
"I... look, I'm not good at explaining these things. But I don't want... this... to be something where you can't stay the night. I realize you don't have much reason to believe me yet, but I love you, and I want you to stay, even if it's just to sleep - "
Erestor, losing patience with Glorfindel's rambling monologue, leaned down to cut him off with a kiss. "Good night, Glorfindel."
"You can borrow one of my robes in the morning," Glorfindel continued, not having quite processed yet the fact that Erestor was wriggling back under the covers.
"It wouldn't fit. Good night, Glorfindel." Erestor's voice was sharp, but he pulled Glorfindel's arm to lie across his chest with unaccustomed gentleness. Glorfindel nuzzled the back of his neck briefly in reply.
"Good night, Erestor."
*
Erestor woke with the sun shining directly into his eyes and a warm, wet sensation tracing patterns around his belly-button. "New curtains," he muttered, still half-asleep. "Any curtains. And - " Then the warm, wet feeling dipped into his navel, and he jerked upright, yelping. Glorfindel grinned up at him, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Glorfindel! We have a meeting to prepare for, so get your tongue right out of there and - SWEET NIENNA PUT IT BACK AGAIN."
Glorfindel happily obliged, and by the time Elrond came looking for his wayward Captain, both he and the good Counselor were fast asleep once more in the sun-bathed, messy sheets. Elrond smiled and locked the door as he exited, since there were, after all, many things in life more important than meetings, leaving behind the aftermath of a very good night indeed.
13. excessive chain
Erestor sat quietly in a corner of the banquet hall, nibbling on bread and cheese as he mowed through an immense stack of paperwork. Elrond had ordered him to attend the feast held in honor of Lady Galadriel's visit, but he had neglected to specify that his anti-social advisor participate in the festivities in any way beyond his presence; hence the pile of work. Every once in a while he would look up and glance around for the source of a particularly good-natured laugh, but otherwise he might as well have been holed up in his office.
"Why, Lord Glorfindel!" exclaimed one of Galadriel's ladies-in-waiting, loudly enough to be heard across the hall. "You are excessively charming, my good lord, and as a penalty for your outrageous compliments, I must demand the favor of a dance!"
"The favor would be granted to me alone," Glorfindel declared gallantly, and swept the chatty she-elf off to the dance floor to the accompaniment of much giggling from her friends. Erestor bit his lip and tried to concentrate on his work.
"Erestor?" Melpomaen sat down beside him. "You don't have to do that right now, do you?"
"I suppose not," Erestor sighed, "but it's better than making polite conversation."
"There is that," the younger elf agreed softly. He scooted closer to Erestor and placed a hand over his - the one not holding a pen. "I'll help."
"It's not necessary, child," Erestor said, smiling fondly at his assistant. "Go enjoy yourself. Surely one of the ladies of Lorien would like a dance?"
"I'd rather stay with you," Melpomaen replied firmly, and took a piece of parchment from the top of the stack. "Dinner menus? You must be desperate for an excuse to escape from company if you're reviewing these."
Erestor laughed. "Only a little."
Glorfindel glanced over at the two dark-haired elves sitting together in the corner as he returned the blond lady - he couldn't recall her name to save his life - to her friends. Erestor patted Melpomaen on the shoulder, smiling, and bent over a scroll with him. An inscrutable look flashed across Glorfindel's face, and he turned his attention back to his flock of female admirers.
*
"Well, that's done," Erestor proclaimed, rolling up the last scroll. Melpomaen yawned, and then blushed furiously. "And not a moment too soon, hmm, child? Off to bed with you."
Melpomaen smiled shyly. "Good night, lord Erestor."
"I've told you a dozen times, call me Erestor. Sweet dreams, young one." Erestor kissed Melpomaen's forehead gently and shooed him away.
Glorfindel's eyes glinted, and he bowed abruptly to his cooing coterie. "I fear I must bid you all good night, my ladies." He walked off without waiting for their farewells.
Erestor was still gathering up his armful of parchment went Glorfindel came up behind him. "Let's go, Erestor." Erestor jumped, and dropped a scroll.
"Oh! Glorfindel. Could you pick that up, please?"
Glorfindel scowled, snatched up the scroll, and seized Erestor by the arm, all but dragging him out of the room. "We're leaving now."
"Glorfindel - Glorfindel! What's gotten into you?" Erestor demanded crossly, forced to trot to keep up with the blond elf's longer legs.
"Nothing," Glorfindel gritted out, and hauled Erestor the rest of the distance to his suite. He threw the door open, shoved Erestor inside (scrolls and all) and slammed the door behind them.
"What is wrong with you?" Erestor snapped, carefully placing his documents on Glorfindel's never-used desk.
Glorfindel, still standing by the doorway, spun around to face Erestor. "Do you even care at all?"
"What? Glorfindel, have you been drinking?"
"Answer the question! Do you care at all about me?"
Erestor stared in shocked silence.
"Never mind. Of course you don't. If you did, you would have cared what I did with all those stupid ladies from Lothlorien. Instead you went off to flirt with Melpomaen. Why would I think you cared?"
"I - flirt? With Melpomaen? He's a quarter my age - if that! How could you even think I would - "
"Because you were!" Glorfindel shouted. "Do you think I'm blind? I've seen the way he looks at you! And you! Kissing him good-night! Did you even notice that I was trying to make you jealous?"
Erestor pressed his palms to his eyes. "I noticed you were off making friends with attractive ladies, which seems to be your second-favorite occupation in life. Are you saying that you want me to be jealous?"
"Mordor! Of course I do! I want you to rant and scream and tell me if I touch another woman you'll chop off my hands! At least then I'd know you had some slight interest in continuing this whatever-this-is with me!"
Inhalation, exhalation, inhalation. "Glorfindel. If you touch a woman while you're sleeping with me, I'll bypass your hands and chop off your balls. If you so much as look at someone who isn't me, male or female, with lewd intent, I will put out your eyes with a writing quill. Happy now?"
Glorfindel blinked. "Ah. Yes. Very. Thank you."
"Lovely. Shall we proceed straight to the make-up sex, then?"
"Mmmm..." Glorfindel swayed slightly on his feet. "I would, except I feel rather dizzy. I'm afraid I might be a trifle drunk..." With that, he collapsed into a heap on the ground.
"Considering all I put up with, you should have no doubt this is true love," Erestor muttered, and helped Glorfindel stumble into bed.
27. overflow
"GLORFINDEL!"
Glorfindel looked up, only mildly curious, at Erestor's furious howl and the slam of the door as it was shut behind the advancing advisor. "Yes, dear?"
"YOUR MINION HAS SEDUCED MY SECRETARY! PRODUCE HIM FORTHWITH SO I MAY GUT HIM LIKE THE SNAKE HE IS!"
Glorfindel blinked. "I have minions?"
Erestor made a sound normally only emitted by boiling teakettles. "Get your blond minstrel friend out here this instant. I will discuss semantics with you after I castrate him."
"He's Elrond's minstrel when he's doing something useful, he's my minion whenever he annoys you," Glorfindel muttered under his breath. "I don't know where Lindir is, Erestor. Have you considered checking with Melpomaen?"
Erestor's face went red with badly suppressed rage. "How long have you known about them?"
"If you mean by 'them' the fact that they're sleeping together, about a week. They've hardly been the souls of discretion, darling."
"Very well," Erestor hissed. "But if that wretch of a hack songwriter breaks Melpomaen's heart, you are not sleeping in my bed, Glorfindel, do I make myself clear?"
"If Lindir breaks Melpomaen's heart, I will go and smash his fingers myself," Glorfindel said soothingly.
Erestor glared. "I am going to go find Melpomaen," he announced coldly, and stormed out of the room.
"Is he gone?" came a voice from under Glorfindel's desk.
"Yes, you half-wit," Glorfindel replied wearily. "Get out, please."
"You could have been a little more protective of your friend, you know," Lindir said as he crawled out from beneath the desk. "Offering to break my fingers wasn't very nice."
"I said I'd hide you from Erestor today. I never said anything about sacrificing my love-life for yours. Did you have to go and sleep with Melpomaen?" Glorfindel demanded. "Anyone else in the Valley would have been a safer choice. Mordor, Elrond would have been a safer choice."
"Yes," Lindir said dreamily. "His hair is like the night sky when the stars are out, and his skin is soft as silk and pale as cream. His eyes are bright as gemstones - I composed a song to them - "
"Shut up. Please. Hiding you from Erestor's wrath is one thing; listening to your trite love-ballads is another. And Melpomaen's eyes are brown."
"Such a plebeian word could never describe his orbs of delight!" Lindir protested passionately. "Say rather chestnut, mahogany, mere shades warmer and lighter than ebony..."
Glorfindel put his head on his desk and his hands over his ears. The things he went through for friendship.
*
Erestor slipped into bed beside Glorfindel long after his lover had turned in. Glorfindel nuzzled at him, half-asleep, before opening his eyes. "Did you talk to Melpomaen?" he asked, yawning.
"Mmm. Yes. For the moment, I shall leave Lindir's elfhood intact."
"Oh, good," Glorfindel sighed. "Imagine how much more unpleasant all those high-pitched love songs would be if he were singing soprano."
"Be quiet," Erestor ordered, and kissed him to enforce it.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Glorfindel mused, some time later, his arms wrapped securely around his lover as they curled up on messy sheets. "That my friend and your student are together, I mean."
"I don't think so," Erestor replied sleepily. "I was overreacting today. I'll try not to let them affect us too much."
"I like it when they affect us like this," Glorfindel remarked suggestively. Erestor groped behind his back for a pillow, whacked Glorfindel with it half-heartedly, and cuddled up against the blond as he dozed off to sleep.
1. look over here
"Hey, Erestor." Glorfindel perched on the edge of Erestor's desk, peering down at the various papers scattered all over. "What are you writing?"
"Work," Erestor mumbled. "Go away."
"E-res-tor," Glorfindel whined, pouting. Erestor ignored him. "Erestor!"
Silence, save for the scritching of Erestor's pen.
"Well, fine." Glorfindel jumped down and stormed out of the room. At the sound of the door slamming shut, Erestor finally glanced up.
"What?" He looked around, puzzled. "Where did... oh well." He shrugged, and went back to work.
*
"...and he never pays attention to me, I might as well be involved with his bloody desk for all the affection I get -"
Arwen, age three, gurgled sympathetically.
"Well, at least you understand," Glorfindel sighed, placated. Arwen eyed him in consideration, then hurled her favorite stuffed toy at his head. Glorfindel caught it with the reflexes of either a battle-tried warrior or an experienced parent. "No, I don't think starting a fight would work," he told her, frowning. She blew spit-bubbles at him, and he laughed softly. "Well, maybe that might do it. I bow to your feminine perspective." Glorfindel exited the nursery, whistling. Arwen yawned and curled up for a nap, sucking firmly on her thumb. Relationship counseling was so tiring.
*
Glorfindel bided his time through dinner, while Erestor picked sleepily at his food. Even the twins seemed too tired to manage any spectacular mischief, much to their mother's relief, so all in all it was a fairly boring meal. By the end of it, however, Elrond was staring suspiciously at Glorfindel, disturbed by the blond's air of suppressed excitement.
As the dishes were cleared away, Erestor shuffled off to his room, and Glorfindel bounced along after him. "Erestor!"
The dark-haired elf kept on walking. "What do you want?"
Glorfindel wilted. Shot down again. "Um... well, I just thought, maybe, if you aren't busy, we could play a game of chess after dinner...?"
"You hate chess, and I'm tired."
Double strike out. "Well... then maybe we could have a glass of wine in my rooms?"
"Some other time."
Third time was clearly not the charm, and Glorfindel had exhausted both his planning facilities and his patience. As Erestor fumbled in his pocket for his key, Glorfindel flung himself, arms spread wide, in front of the other elf's door. "Look at me!" he begged passionately. "Pay attention to me! Look me in the face when you talk to me, for the love of all the Valar! Am I invisible?!"
Erestor looked at him calmly. "Is this why you've been pestering me all day?"
Glorfindel deflated. "Um... yes."
"I see. Glorfindel, I've been busy and I'm tired. If you're feeling neglected, it would expedite the process of apologizing and making up if you would just say so." He stood on tip-toe long enough to press a light kiss to Glorfindel's mouth. While the blond was still gaping in shock, he slipped past him, entered his room, and shut the door. The sound of the lock snicking shut snapped Glorfindel out of his reverie.
"What? That's it? One kiss? Erestor, that's not fair! I've been upset all day - I should get more than just one kiss!"
He could just hear Erestor's low, rich laughter through the thick door. "Some other time, Glorfindel."
8. our own world
"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 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 you 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 still 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."
19. red
"Erestor?"
"Hmm?" Erestor yawned and sat up, glancing around the bedroom for his lover. Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. "Glorfindel, did you say something?"
"Yes." The blond elf emerged from their closet, dressed only in a shirt. Erestor's stomach flipped as he took in all the bare, muscled thigh on display, and he stretched languorously, hoping that Glorfindel would take the hint and come back to bed. "Erestor, why is every single item of clothing you possess black?"
Erestor suppressed a snarl and settled for a brief glare. Glorfindel was not going to ruin his mood. "Does it matter?" he asked, climbing out of bed. He neglected to take the sheet with him, revealing that he was not wearing black at the moment. Or anything, for that matter. A quick toss of his head sent his hair tumbling out of its loose knot to frame his face as he pouted seductively at Glorfindel.
"Well, not really, I suppose," Glorfindel admitted. Yes! Victory! Erestor thought triumphantly. "It's just a little odd that you wouldn't even have any blue. It seems rather morbid to walk around dressed in black all the time."
"Do we really need to discuss this now?" Erestor forced out from between gritted teeth. If Glorfindel didn't stop talking and put his mouth to better use very soon...
"But we'll have more important things to do later. We always do. And - "
Glorfindel was forced to break off his remark as Erestor, out of patience, launched himself at his half-naked lover and latched onto his mouth. "Bed. Sex. Now," he growled, taking advantage of Glorfindel's distraction by ripping off his shirt.
"Huh? Oh. Oh! Right!" As Glorfindel scooped him up and carried him the short distance back to bed, the tiny corner of Erestor's mind that was not yet wholly distracted by the potential of any situation that contained a completely naked Glorfindel and a bed smugly considered the topic well and truly dropped.
*
A few weeks later, however, it resurfaced in the form of a neat package on their messily made bed. "I, um, thought you might like to try a different color for once," Glorfindel explained awkwardly.
"Like what?" Erestor asked warily.
"Uh. Red."
"Right." Shrugging, Erestor untied the wrapping and took out the contents. There was a long pause as he examined it, eyebrows inching ever higher. "Glorfindel," he said finally, "there is no way I am ever wearing this in public."
"I kind of only wanted you to wear it in private, anyway," Glorfindel admitted, turning violently crimson.
"Well, then." Erestor folded up the little red number and looked over at his lover, smirking. "Why don't you convince me?"
12. in a good mood
Elrond looked out the window of his office and sighed. The sky was a miserable shade of gray, and precipitation that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be fog, drizzle or a very light snow-flurry only added to the general gloom. Glorfindel, unsurprisingly, was late for a meeting. Glorfindel hated rain - hated any weather that wasn't sunny, really - but worst of all, he loathed the uncertain, waiting feeling that accompanied wet, cloudy days. Better an honest thunderstorm, he would always say, scowling. Working with him in bad weather was an unholy bitch.
Just as Elrond began to contemplate the wisdom of adjourning for a very lengthy lunch break, Glorfindel wandered into the office, whistling the tune to an extremely bawdy drinking song. He was even in tune. Elrond stared. "Ah, good morning, Glorfindel."
"Good morning, Elrond!" Glorfindel replied genially. "Shall we get to work on that armory budget?"
Now Elrond was starting to suspect that Glorfindel had either been kidnapped and impersonated, or possessed. He practically needed to hold the blond warrior at swordpoint to get him to so much as look at a ledger sheet. He claimed that the numbers gave him a headache. "You seem rather... chipper... this morning, Glorfindel."
"And why shouldn't I be?" Glorfindel asked merrily. "It's a beautiful day!"
Elrond glanced out the window again, just to check whether he had hallucinated the view earlier. It was still gray, wet and cold.
Before he could test his captain of the guard for fever or demonic residue, Melpomaen, Erestor's assistant, burst into the room. "Lord Elrond, you have to come now! Master Erestor is sick!"
Elrond immediately rose, alarmed. "Whatever is the matter with him?"
"He was late this morning - late! Master Erestor! - and now he isn't working on the correspondence with Lothlorien, he just keeps staring out the window and sighing! He must be sick!"
Glorfindel looked up from the budget sheet in front of him. "He was perfectly healthy earlier this morning... even energetic, I'd say." One eyebrow tilted upwards suggestively.
"Ah," Elrond said eloquently. That solved a number of mysteries, really.
"Here's your budget," Glorfindel added, dropping the scribbled-out sheet of parchment in front of Elrond. "I think I might go visit Erestor for lunch." He kissed both Elrond and Melpomaen on the cheek in an overflow of excess affection, and waltzed out, singing to himself.
"Lord Elrond?" Melpomaen asked, gazing after Glorfindel in confusion.
"Just sit down and don't think about it," Elrond sighed. He picked up the budget and scanned it quickly. All seemed to be in order, wonder of wonders... wait, since when was scented massage oil part of the armory stock? "GLORFINDEL!"
*
"What in the name of Iluvatar...?" Celeborn muttered to himself as he looked over the latest packet of official documents from Rivendell.
"What's the matter, dear?" his wife inquired, leaning over his shoulder to examine the letter in his hands.
It was a sheet of paper completely covered with doodles of Glorfindel's name inside hearts of varying sizes.
"It looks like Erestor's handwriting, but..."
"Oh. That," Galadriel interrupted. "Don't worry about it, darling. It's not important."
"But - "
She cut him off with a kiss. "Really, darling," she repeated, settling into his lap. "Don't worry about it."
As he generally did in such situations, Celeborn decided to simply take his wife's advice. After all, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
9. dash
"Stop being such an enormous baby about this, Glorfindel."
"It hurts!"
"Well, it will hurt worse if it gets infected, so sit still and let me stitch it shut!"
"You could be a little gentler, you know!"
"I would be gentler if you would stop moving the cheek I'm trying to sew up!"
"Well - "
"Shut up. Both of you. The sooner this gets done, the sooner we can all go back to our rooms and forget that this little temper tantrum ever happened."
Both Elrond and Glorfindel glanced back at Erestor, suddenly reminded of his presence in the otherwise-empty Hall of Healing. Glorfindel began to protest, but it wilted under Erestor's glare.
"There, all set," Elrond said a few minutes later, after stitching up the slice in Glorfindel's cheek as quickly as possible. "Use this salve on it three times a day, and if it feels at all hot or swollen, come right to me. I'm going to bed." He nodded to Erestor and left the room before either of them could wish him a good night.
Glorfindel sat quietly and waited. He was not long in suspense. "You're an idiot. You've killed more orcs than anyone can count, frightened off a Nazgul, defeated a Balrog, for pity's sake, and you can't duck a swing in a practice match?"
"I'm sorry," Glorfindel sighed.
"Well, you should be," Erestor sniffed, but most of the wind had been taken from his sails by Glorfindel's easy acquiescence. "Come on, let's go to our rooms. I hate this hall. It's depressing."
Glorfindel followed Erestor obediently, seeming lost in thought. Erestor glanced back at him worriedly several times, and when they finally reached their bedroom, he asked, "Is everything all right?"
"Are you angry?"
Erestor blinked. "I'm angry that you frightened me."
"No, I mean, are you angry that my face will be scarred now? It'll probably be ugly."
"Don't be ridiculous," Erestor said dismissively. "Elrond's an excellent healer, and I'm sure any scarring will fade eventually. And anyway," he added, pressing a gentle kiss just to the side of Glorfindel's stitches, "I think it'll look rather dashing."
Part II
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-11-25 10:46 pm (UTC)I think these are wonderful, the characteristics of everyone appearing nicely in the dialogs! I especially enjoy the humor underlying everything. (That's something my writing is still lacking - need to practice.)
Will continue with the second part as soon as I can.
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Date: 2006-11-26 01:25 am (UTC)