Title: 30 Kisses
Author: Belladonna Poisoning (evilvoodoopriestess@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: For the 30 Kisses challenge on Livejournal. 30 themes, 30
ficlets, 30 kisses. 

2. 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 <i>close</i> 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!
Note: Glorfindel's song was written by Sir Walter Raleigh, not me. 

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 <i>asleep</i>... 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 <i>drunk</i>,
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>I</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, <i>Erestor</i>," 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 <i>anything</i> 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 <i>told</i> 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 <I>DIE</I>, 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 <i>
idiotically</i> 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 <i>get out</i>!" 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 <i>am</i> 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 <I>STALKER</I> - " 

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 <i>tan Lindir's hide</i>," 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 <i>none of your business</i>!" Erestor huffed. 

"Wait. You <i>have</i> kissed someone before, right? I mean, I
wasn't trying to rub salt in the wound or - "

"<i>Yes</i>, 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 <i>you</i>?" 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. 

"<i>Galadriel</i>? 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 <i>in</i> bed." 

"<i>My</i> 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 <i>night</i>, 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. "<i>Any</i> 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 <i>now
</i>." 

"Glorfindel - Glorfindel! What's gotten into you?" Erestor demanded
crossly, forced to trot to keep up with the blond elf's longer legs. 

"<i>Nothing</i>," 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 <i>wrong</i> 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?" 

"<i>What</i>? 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 - <i>flirt</i>? With <i>Melpomaen</i>? He's a quarter my age - if
that! How could you even think I would - " 

"Because you <i>were</i>!" 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 <i>notice</i> 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 <i>want
</i> 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 <i>look</i> 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 <i>this instant</i>. I will
discuss semantics with you after I castrate him." 

"He's <i>Elrond's</i> minstrel when he's doing something useful,
he's <i>my</i> 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 <i>not</i> 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 <i>have</i> to go and
sleep with Melpomaen?" Glorfindel demanded. "Anyone else in the
Valley would have been a safer choice. Mordor, <i>Elrond</i> 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. "<i>
Erestor</i>!" 

Silence, save for the scritching of Erestor's pen. 

"Well, <i>fine</i>." 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 <i>you</i> 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 <i>so</i> 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 <i>not</i> 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 <i>invisible
</i>?!" 

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 <i>snick</i>ing shut snapped Glorfindel
out of his reverie. 

"What? That's it? <i>One</i> 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 <i>need</i> 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 <i>cave</i>. 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 <i>go away</i>, you useless, brainless sack of muscles! I'm
trying to <i>work</i>!" 

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 <i>furious</i>, for no especial reason, with
Glorfindel. 

But Erestor <i>did</i> 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 <i>was
</i> 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 <i>not</i> 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. <i>Yes! Victory!
</i> 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 <i>stop talking</i> and
put his mouth to better use <i>very soon</i>...

"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. <i>Now</i>," 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 <i>no way</i>
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 <i>now</i>! Master Erestor is sick!" 

Elrond immediately rose, alarmed. "Whatever is the matter with
him?" 

"He was late this morning - late! Master Erestor! - and now
working on the correspondence with Lothlorien, he just keeps staring
out the window and sighing! He <i>must</i> be sick!" 

Glorfindel looked up from the budget sheet in front of him. "He was
perfectly healthy earlier this morning... even <i>energetic</i>, 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. "<i>Really</i>, 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 <i>hurts</i>!" 

"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 <i>moving the cheek I'm trying
to sew up</i>!" 

"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 <i>temper
tantrum</i> 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 <i>idiot</i>. 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 <i>practice match</i>?" 

"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." 

4. our distance and that person

"Glorfindel." 

The blond warrior stared out the window. 

"Glorfindel." 

He heaved a deep, broody sigh. 

"GLORFINDEL!" 

"Hmm?" Glorfindel finally looked up. "Oh, hello, Lord Elrond. What
is it?" 

"Sweet Eru, you're impossible," Elrond muttered in disgust.
"Reports, Glorfindel. That were due on my desk a week ago. Where are
they?" 

"Oh..." Glorfindel looked drearily down at the mess of scrawled-upon
paper on his desk as if he expected the reports in question to
suddenly materialize. "I don't know, Lord Elrond... I might have
forgotten them." 

Elrond exhaled on a count to ten. Then he inhaled on a count to
twenty. In Dwarvish. Then, because all the counting had done nothing
to cool his temper, he started shrieking like a Nazgul out of
Mordor. "FOR THE LOVE OF VARDA, WHY DOES NOTHING GET DONE AROUND
HERE WITHOUT ERESTOR? I WANT MY THRICE-BE-DAMNED REPORTS AND I WANT
THEM NOW!" 

"Erestor," Glorfindel murmured mournfully. 

Elrond turned from bright red to deep purple. "Then <i>go</i>," he
hissed. "You are <i>worse</i> than useless here. So just go to
Mirkwood, and <i>see</i> your precious Erestor, and HAVE HIM TEACH
YOU HOW TO FILE A VALAR-CURST REPORT ON TIME!" 

Glorfindel's face lit up instantly. "Thank you, Lord Elrond!" he
said cheerfully, and almost skipped out of the room. Elrond stared
after him, gritted his teeth and manfully (half-elf-fully?)
refrained from having an apoplexy. 

*

"Really, Counselor," Thranduil said expansively, gesturing with his
(several-times-refilled) wineglass. "You should loosen up a little.
Have some wine." 

"No, thank you," Erestor replied tightly, amending a clause on the
twenty-sixth draft of the mutual-defense treaty between Mirkwood and
Rivendell. He used red ink. Hopefully Thranduil's would catch the
implicit threat, because if he had to revise draft twenty-seven, he
was going to be extremely cranky. Ungoliath herself had nothing on
Erestor when he was extremely cranky. 

"Come, now!" Thranduil exclaimed. "Relax! The wine is good,
negotiations are going well, and you have access to admire my
unparalleled beauty! What's not to enjoy?" 

"Erestor <i>never</i> relaxes," Lindir giggled tipsily at
Thranduil's elbow, where he'd been matching the Mirkwood king sip
for sip. He leaned over, and added, in a very loud stage whisper,
"Except when Glorfindel's on top of him." 

If there had been any justice in the world, Lindir would have died
from all the poison in the glare Erestor shot him. He'd <i>told</i>
Elrond he didn't want Lindir along on this mission. But no. "I don't
want you to get lonely," Elrond had said. If it came down to that,
Erestor would have preferred to have Glorfindel along.
Diplomatically challenged as he might be, Thranduil's advisors would
have probably been less obstinate with an armed Balrog-slayer
breathing down their necks. Erestor began to fantasize about the
expression on Thranduil's prime minister's face upon being
threatened with Glorfindel's largest battle axe. His eyes were
probably going dreamy, but Lindir and Thranduil were both too drunk
to notice, anyway. 

"Your majesty!" boomed Thranduil's herald. He was short and fat and
Erestor suspected that he was secretly part-Dwarvish. "Lord
Glorfindel of Imladris requests an audience!" 

"Send him in!" Thranduil proclaimed loudly. "I want to see the elf
who can get our dear frigid Counselor to unwind!" 

Erestor stared at the door, frozen in shock. He wasn't sure if this
was a dream or a nightmare. 

Glorfindel sauntered in, ragged and dirty and looking better than
anything Erestor had seen since he left Rivendell. "Hi, Thranduil,"
he said casually, with a very perfunctory bow. "I'm just here to
pick up my little snuggle-bunny, if that's okay with you. I'll bring
him back when I'm done with him. Um, say a week." Erestor's jaw
dropped. Definitely a nightmare. 

"Glorfindel, you - you - " he sputtered. 

"Sure," Thranduil replied magnanimously. "Try the sandalwood oil in
the bathroom, it smells better than the peppermint." 

Erestor was making wordless, whistling sounds of inarticulate rage.
Glorfindel unceremoniously picked him up, tossed him over his
shoulder, and left the hall, Erestor's shrieks echoing behind them
until the door slammed shut. "Glorfindel, you OAF! Let me GO!
GLORFIN - " 

Lindir staggered over to the table where Erestor had been working
and picked up the sheaf of paper, neatly annotated in red ink.
"Y'know, this is probably fine as it is," he suggested, bringing it
over to Thranduil. "Why don't you just sign it?" 

Thranduil frowned the frown of a thoughtful drunk. "But then Erestor
wouldn't be around to tease anymore," he complained. 

"Glorfindel would probably kill you if you tried, anyway." 

"My advisors <i>are</i> getting a little annoyed at having to stall
for so long," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll sign it if you make it
worth my while." 

Lindir smirked and straddled Thranduil's lap, and proceeded to give
him a lengthy, sloppy kiss. "How's that?" 

"Good enough," Thranduil replied. He signed the much-revised treaty
in Erestor's red ink, then stood, Lindir still wrapped around his
waist. "Come on, let's go try out the sandalwood oil before
Glorfindel and Erestor use it all up." 

Lindir giggled, and allowed himself to be carted out of Thranduil's
throne room. /And Erestor always said I had no talent for
negotiation./

7. superstar

"Do you suppose they're really watching us?" 

"Hmm?" Erestor cuddled up more tightly against Glorfindel's side. He
was distinctly not used to sleeping outdoors, and it was <i>cold
</i>. 

"The stars," Glorfindel said, gesturing upwards with the arm that
wasn't wrapped around Erestor. "Do you think they're watching us?" 

"I'm sure they have better things to do than pay attention to
everything going on down here," Erestor replied, smiling a little at
Glorfindel's whimsy. 

"Well, what if they got bored, and just happened to look down, right
now?" 

"Then they'd see, among other things, two elves camping out on the
road to Lothlorien." 

"It must be nice," Glorfindel mused. "To be able to see everything.
We used to look up at the stars, when we were crossing the Ice,
Ecthelion and I. He'd make up the most ridiculous stories about what
the stars could see, to distract us from the cold..." His voice
trailed off, and his arm tightened convulsively around Erestor. 

"Maybe they are watching," Erestor said gently, nuzzling
Glorfindel's neck. "The same stars, even. But they're probably
happier to see you happy than sad, don't you think?" He leaned up a
little, in spite of the cold, and kissed Glorfindel softly. 

"See that star, right there?" he asked Glorfindel, pointing upwards.
"That's Elrond's father. And right now, he's looking down a few
miles further along the road, where the Galadhrim are having an
orgy. And..." 

And Erestor proceeded to make up the most ridiculous stories about
what the stars could see, for no real reason at all. 

14. radio-cassette player

"You know, if you just listen to the melody and try not to notice
the words, it's really not that bad." 

Erestor twisted around in Glorfindel's arms to give his lover a
cold, level stare. "Your eternal font of optimism never fails to
astonish." 

"Oh, come on. I think it's rather sweet." 

"It's obnoxious." 

"Well, yes, that too. It's not Lindir's fault that he's in the
throes of puppy love. Again." 

"It's his fault that he wrote and then decided to inflict upon us,
his long-suffering audience, the most trite love-ballad it has been
my dubious honor to hear." 

Glorfindel sighed. "Erestor, you don't have a romantic bone in your
body." 

"You would call that caterwauling 'romantic'?"

Glorfindel opened his mouth to answer, thought for a moment, then
shut it again. "Once again, you shine the cold hard light of logic
on places best left unilluminated. Such as Lindir's bizarre courting
rituals." 

Erestor smirked, pleased to have been proven right once again, and
snuggled closer to Glorfindel. "I wouldn't mind so much if he
wouldn't insist on singing so loudly, or at such an ungodly hour of
night," he conceded. 

"Ah. Well, it's about time for the object of his affections to-" The
song was cut off by a splash and a loud yelp. "There we go. A bucket
of cold water dumped on one's head does wonders to cool the passion
of unrequited love." 

Lindir's protestations of undying adoration resumed, even louder
than before. After a few moments, there was another splash, and
Lindir's singing dissolved into incoherent gargling. 

"Or not," Glorfindel sighed. 

"Mmm," Erestor replied. "Well, as I see it, we have two possible
situations on our hands. In scenario one, Elrond gets sick of
Lindir's singing, goes down to the courtyard, and beds him then and
there just to shut him up. In scenario two, he retains enough
patience to continue dumping water on him until he drowns. Neither
is likely to actually occur tonight." 

"You forgot scenario three," Glorfindel remarked morbidly. "Elrond
stuffs his ears with candle wax." 

"Fair enough. Either way, I doubt we'll get back to sleep anytime
soon." 

Glorfindel raised one eyebrow and bent his neck just enough to
retrieve a slow, lingering kiss. "Are you suggesting what I think
you're suggesting?" 

"We might as well find something more - mmm, productive to do with
the evening," Erestor answered, pausing for another lengthly kiss. 

"Good idea..." Glorfindel murmured, running a fingertip over the tip
of Erestor's right ear. 

"Hmm... I do have all that correspondence from Mirkwood to go
over," Erestor purred, making as if to slide out of bed. 

Glorfindel immediately caught him by the shoulders and rolled over
so that he was lying on top of his recalcitrant lover. "Oh, I can
think of much more productive things to do." 

"Can you now?" Erestor asked, the last word getting slightly lost in
a gasp as Glorfindel began sucking on the soft skin right under
Erestor's jaw. 

"Mmmhmm..." 

In the distance, both elves heard Lindir start yet another
appallingly sappy love song, but by then they were both far too
involved in each other to care. 

23. candy

Glorfindel watched Estel bounce out of the suite he shared with
Erestor, after his <i>third</i> bedtime story, with an exasperated
sigh. "You know, you're half the reason that child is getting fat,"
he remarked. 

"A little candy never hurt anyone," Erestor said defensively. 

"A <i>little</i>," Glorfindel agreed. "You're constitutionally
incapable of saying 'no' to him, so you let him have all the candy
and stories and attention he wants, and if he weren't a generally
good-natured child he'd be spoiled rotten by now." 

"Well, he doesn't have a mother to fuss over him," Erestor replied
softly. "I'd rather overcompensate than have him feel lonely, if
it's all the same to you." 

Glorfindel got up to stand behind Erestor, rubbing his shoulders.
"No one's saying he doesn't deserve a little fussing over. But he's
gotten so attached to you that he skips all his athletics to sit
with you in the library, which is the other reason he's so pudgy, by
the way, and he throws tantrums whenever you can't read his bedtime
story, and... Erestor, I'm sorry, but you <i>aren't</i> his
mother." 

"It's not like I'll ever have children of my own," Erestor said, in
tones that would have been sharp if they hadn't been so tired. 

Glorfindel blinked. "Do you... <i>want</i> children?" He would have
given Erestor anything he wanted, if he could, but this might prove
problematic. 

"No, not really," Erestor sighed. "But..." 

Glorfindel pulled Erestor around and bent to kiss him, smiling at
the taste of candy that lingered in his mouth. "If you want to be
Estel's mother, go ahead, Erestor. Just bear in mind that mothers
have to discipline their children, as well as fuss over them." 

Erestor tilted his head back for another kiss, sugar-stained lips
curved upwards. "All right." 

*

"Estel? Sweetheart, don't you have lessons with Glorfindel now?"
Erestor asked gently of the child reading quietly at his feet. 

"Wanna stay here with you," Estel said, pouting. 

"Well, you can't, little one," Erestor said firmly, picking up the
child with the intention of carrying him to Glorfindel. His arms
protested immediately, and he began to entertain the thought that
his lover might have been right about the candy. As he staggered his
way to the door, it opened of its own accord. Glorfindel, with his
usual masterful grasp of the obvious, had determined his wayward
pupil's location and come to retrieve him. "Oh! Glorfindel, thank
you." He handed over the child, who immediately began to shriek. 

"NO! WANT ERESTOR!" 

Glorfindel glared at Erestor, mouthing a silent, "You see?" Erestor
pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to think through the
rising volume of Estel's wailing. 

"I'll come with you, all right?" he said at last, desperate to stop
the screaming. "Would that be okay?" 

Estel hiccuped, his face red and blotchy. "...I guess." 

Erestor retrieved his book and followed Glorfindel down to the
practice yard, musing as he went that perhaps Estel <i>was</i> a
little spoiled.

28. Wada Calcium CD3 

"I hate milk," Estel complained, scowling at the glass of white
liquid in front of him. "I don't want to drink it." 

"Ah, but milk makes you grow big and strong, like me!" Glorfindel
chuckled. "Look at Erestor - he didn't drink his milk when he was
little, and now he's short and skinny as a girl!" 

"I wanna be just like Erestor when I grow up," Estel declared
defiantly. "If he didn't drink milk, I won't either!" 

"That one backfired on you," Erestor murmured in Glorfindel's ear,
looking amused. Out loud to Elrond, he announced, "I'm going to go
work in the library for a while. Send a messenger if you need me for
anything." 

"Can I come? Can I come?" Estel begged hopefully. "Can I come to the
library with you, please, Erestor?" 

Erestor laughed softly. "You have lessons with Glorfindel this
morning. If you're good, you may come visit me after lunch." As he
exited the hall, he paused and pressed a quick kiss to the top of
the human child's head. "Drink your milk, Estel. It's good for
you." 

Estel watched Erestor leave with stars in his eyes, and obediently
gulped down his milk. Glorfindel wondered vaguely if he ought to be
jealous, and was forced to suppress a most un-elflike giggle. 

10. #10

Erestor was humming. Happily. It was beginning to get on
Glorfindel's nerves. "Oh, <i>honestly</i>!" he finally burst out.
"It's just a birthday! It's not like he'll never have one again!" 

Erestor stopped humming, but Glorfindel's respite was short, for his
dark-haired lover then pinned him with a paint-stripping glare even
more unpleasant than his vaguely tuneless subvocalization. "He's
only ten, Glorfindel. He's entitled to a bit of fuss. He's a mortal,
after all - he won't have as opportunities for it as we do. And
anyway, I'm certain you were rather more excited about birthdays
when you were his age." 

"When I was his age I was still running around in diapers,"
Glorfindel muttered rebelliously. 

Erestor arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't consider that something to
brag about, you know." 

"Whatever," Glorfindel grumbled. "I still don't see why he gets to
pick his own presents." 

"Oh, for the love of - if you want to choose your next birthday
present from me, go ahead! But if you won't stop acting so
childishly you won't be <i>getting</i> one." 

"Perfect," Glorfindel purred immediately, his mood doing a prompt
180-degree spin. "I know <i>exactly</i> what I want." 

Erestor looked at him warily. Finally he sighed. "You're going to
tell me whether I want to know or not, aren't you." 

"Well, how are you supposed to give me what I want if I don't tell
you?" 

The dark-haired elf frowned to himself for a moment, clearly trying
to find the hole in the blond's logic, but failing. "All right,
fine, what do you want?" 

Glorfindel leaned in very close and whispered something in his ear.
Erestor promptly went bright red and started to splutter. "<i>
Glorfindel</i>! You - you - "

"Pervert?" Glorfindel inquired mildly. "A bit late for that, seeing
how you already told me I could pick my present. That's what I want
from you." 

"But - there is <i>no way</i> I would <i>ever</i> do that, you sex-
obsessed <i>fiend</i> - "

"Erestor!" They were interrupted by a plaintive, childish cry from
outside the door. "Erestor, are you in there?" 

Startled, Erestor paused briefly before replying, "Ah, yes, Estel.
What's wrong?" 

"It's midnight, and you promised me you'd spend my birthday with
me!" 

Erestor was already on his feet and moving toward the door when
Glorfindel realized exactly what was about to happen to his romantic
evening with his lover. "Oh <i>no you don't</i> - "

"The sun isn't even up yet, child; you should be asleep," Erestor
gently chided the future King of Men. He was sucking his thumb.
Glorfindel reflected in resignation that he'd never seen a less
imposing figure - or one more likely to sway Erestor. 

"But it's my <i>birthday</i>, Erestor! You <i>promised</i>!" 

Erestor chuckled softly. "Well, and so I did. If I come with you
will you go back to bed?" 

Estel contemplated this solution with as much seriousness a ten-
year-old with his thumb in his mouth could muster. "You have to stay
with me, even after I fall asleep," he bargained. 

"Very well, Estel." Erestor smiled indulgently down at him. "Since
it is your birthday." He stooped and hefted the human child up in
his arms with an audible grunt of effort. "Off we go." 

"Ahem," Glorfindel coughed, giving Estel an extremely unfriendly
look. "I believe you owe me something, Erestor." 

"I do?" The slim elf blinked, and staggered slightly under the
weight of the rather pudgy Heir of Isildur. 

Glorfindel was across the room before he could even think about it.
"Look, give him to me. I'll carry him." 

"No! Want Erestor!" wailed Estel. 

"It's just until we get to your room, brat; I have no desire to
spend the night with you, trust me." Estel glared at him sulkily. 

"Ah... thank you," Erestor said tactfully, and led the way to
Estel's room. The child was soon tucked in with a minimum of fuss,
and Erestor walked Glorfindel to the door to see him off. 

"So... what did I owe you, again?" 

"Hmm? Oh. Good-night kiss," Glorfindel replied, running his fingers
through a loose lock of hair hanging in Erestor's face. "I don't
suppose I can convince you to come back to bed with me?" 

"No," Erestor answered wryly. "You can have the kiss, though." 

"Well, I'll take what I can get." Glorfindel bent down to retrieve
his kiss, perhaps with undue urgency. He bumped first noses, then
teeth with Erestor; things were just starting to heat up when they
were rudely cut off, once again, by Estel's summons. 

Glorfindel headed back to the suite he shared with Erestor, humming
softly (and tunelessly) to himself. At this rate, Erestor was going
to owe him <i>two</i> birthday presents. 

26. if only I could make you mine

Estel was sitting out in the garden, waiting for someone to notice
that he was missing. Since he was supposed to be at sword-lessons
with Glorfindel, and Glorfindel was <i>busy</i>, it was highly
unlike that anyone would miss him until dinner, but he stayed put
all the same. That way no one was likely to notice his red nose or
periodic sniffles. He was a thirteen-year-old boy, and he wasn't <i>
crying</i>. It was just a hay fever attack, but he didn't feel like
explaining that to anyone at the moment, especially to an elf, who
wouldn't actually know what hay fever was, since the species was
completely immune. 

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Glorfindel had been sniffing
around Erestor for as long as he could remember. He'd just thought
that Erestor was above that kind of stuff. And above people like
Glorfindel. 

Judging from the breathless way Erestor had been laughing between
kisses, Estel had been wrong on both counts. But Estel didn't care.
Really. Not at all. If Erestor liked having that blond dog slobber
all over him, that was his business. 

"Whatever is the matter, dear? You look so unhappy, and it's such a
lovely day." 

Well, that wasn't exactly the person he'd wanted to come find him,
but any port in a storm, and any sympathetic ear in a fit of teenage
angst. "The person I'm in love with doesn't love me back," he said
to the strange elf-maiden, bravely holding off tears. 

"Well, I'm sure it can't be as bad as all that," the girl said
kindly. "Maybe she'll change her mind?" 

"It's a <i>he</i>, and he's in love with someone completely awful!"
Estel cried. "Someone who'll never deserve him or love him as much
as I do..." 

"That's no reason to give up," she told him encouragingly. "Fight
your rival for his affection! Nothing is hopeless, after all." 

Estel's face brightened, and he beamed up at her. "You really think
so?" 

"Hmm... yes, but..." She reached out and gently wiped his face on
her long, trailing sleeve. "Perhaps you ought to wash your face
first." 

"Thank you!" He flung both arms around her waist and kissed her
cheek in a sudden fit of happiness, then hurried off. 

"Oh! Who is your beloved?" she called after him, smiling
uncontrollably. 

"Erestor, Lord Elrond's chief advisor!" Estel shouted back to her.
He vanished into the house, and she dissolved into helpless
laughter. 

"Well, good luck then, my little friend... you'll need it." She
turned and headed towards her father's house herself, unaware that
she and the boy she'd just given such useless love advice would meet
again, not too far in the future by elven standards, in the woods of
Lothlorien. 

21. violence; pillage/plunder; extortion

The day that Lord Elrond's wayward foster son returned from his
travels in the wild was one of great excitement in Rivendell, but it
began quite slowly in the house of the half-elf. The previous
evening had been a feast of some note, so many of the inhabitants of
the fair valley had elected to remain in bed on that fine spring
morning. 

"Good morning to you all!" Elrond proclaimed brightly as he entered
the feast hall. He alone of all those present was not suffering the
unfortunate aftereffects of overindulgence. He was thus met with a
variety of unfriendly looks. 

"Good morning my - " Glorfindel began, but was cut off before he
could voice whatever foul obscenity was lurking on his tongue. 

"And where is our dear Master Erestor?" Elrond inquired, his usually
solemn expression lit with the sparkle of mischief. 

"Sleeping off his hangover, like a sane person," Glorfindel
muttered. 

Lindir raised his head off the table to fix his blood-shot gaze
briefly upon the blond warrior. "That lightweight. He barely drank a
full bottle." 

"There may have been hard liquor licked off of various body parts
after we retired to our rooms," Glorfindel admitted without the
faintest trace of shame. 

"He'd kill you if he heard you say that," Melpomaen remarked, his
voice muffled, understandably since his face was hidden in his arms
from any adventuresome ray of light. 

"Then it's a good thing he isn't here, isn't it?" Glorfindel
contemplated calling over a servant and requesting breakfast. His
stomach rolled unhappily, and he reconsidered. 

The doors of the great hall crashed open. Every elf within hearing
distance, except Lord Elrond, winced and covered his ears in pain.
Glorfindel went one step further, and squeezed his eyes shut against
the light let in - the servants, with their usual thoughtful
foresight, had covered all the windows before retiring the previous
night, but the sun was in full evidence beyond the open door. 

Thus he was completely unprepared for the slap of leather across his
cheek. Without reopening his eyes, Glorfindel sighed, "Look, I
haven't seduced an elf-maiden in centuries, so whatever your
daughter or sister or wife says I did, it wasn't me - "

"Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower," proclaimed the
man, who was standing far too close for the comfort of Glorfindel's
ears, "I, Aragorn son of Arathorn, do hereby challenge you to a
duel, for the honor and affection of one Erestor of Rivendell." 

Now Glorfindel cracked his eyelids slightly. "Excuse me, what?" 

Estel glared down at him. "I swore to reclaim Erestor from your evil
clutches, you lecher, and I will, as soon as I utterly humiliate you
with my skill with the sword." 

Glorfindel twitched. "If I agree to duel you, will you go away and
let me nurse my hangover in peace?" 

"You may have until this afternoon to prepare yourself," Estel
agreed magnanimously. 

"Oh, joy," Glorfindel muttered, and let his head fall down onto his
folded arms. Estel stalked out of the hall, thankfully shutting the
door behind him, although not without slamming it loudly enough to
make all the elves in the hall cringe again. 

"So," Lindir murmured to Elrond, "who wants to break it to Estel
that dueling for another elf's lady is no longer considered valid
legal practice and can lead to prosecution for rape?" 

Elrond snorted. "If he'd paid attention to his books during his
history lessons instead of staring at Erestor, he'd know that
already. Besides, this is even more amusing than watching all of you
flinch at loud noises." 

"I'm glad my pain is serving you as entertainment, my lord,"
Glorfindel groaned sarcastically. "What would your medical advice
suggest?" 

"Hair of the dog that bit you," Elrond replied promptly, and raised
his voice to shout, "Someone bring Lord Glorfindel a goblet of mead!
We have to get him in top form for his duel this afternoon!" He took
a certain sadistic pleasure as everyone around him went pale(r) and
clutched at their ears. 

*

Several hours later, Glorfindel was feeling considerably less pain.
Lindir, who had partaken almost as heartily of Elrond's "medicine,"
and Melpomaen, who had exercised a bit more restraint, finally
stopped drinking in favor of watching Glorfindel. "Should you really
be drinking before you fight?" Lindir asked curiously, if a trifle
belatedly. 

"I would think the alcohol would dull your reflexes," Melpomaen
chimed in, frowning. 

Elrond chuckled. "Ah, Glorfindel fights beautifully in a drunken
stupor. The brawls in the Men's camp the night before we stormed
Mount Doom... a sight to behold indeed." 

"I wouldn't say beautifully," Glorfindel sighed, "but better drunk
than hungover, at any rate." He gazed mournfully down at his empty
goblet, then set it aside. "Enough of that. I want to be able to
move tomorrow morning." 

"Tomorrow morning, you'll be too dead to worry," Estel proclaimed
grandly. He had entered the hall just in time to catch Glorfindel's
last comment. 

"Estel!" Elrond said sharply. "There will be no killing, or talk of
killing, in my home!" 

"Sorry, Father," he said sheepishly, any trace of menace
instantaneously gone. "First blood?" 

"Acceptable," Elrond replied snippily. "This is nonsense and both of
you know it." 

"It is not nonsense!" Estel protested passionately. "Erestor is far
too good for a brainless, muscle-bound idiot like Glorfindel!" 

"And Erestor would probably be the first to agree with you," Elrond
sighed, "but it was his choice and not yours and you really aren't
listening to me, are you?" 

"No, Father," Estel answered automatically. Elrond buried his face
in his hands. 

"All right, let's get this over with," Glorfindel suggested in
resignation, climbing to his feet. "Does anyone have a sword I can
borrow?" 

Estel spun around to glare at him. "You mock the gravity of my
challenge!" 

"No, I just don't have a sword," Glorfindel replied patiently. "I
was eating breakfast when you stormed in to demand a duel. Well, I
was thinking better of eating breakfast. Since then, I have been
steadily drinking in the hopes that this idiocy will all disappear
in a haze of alcohol. Thus, I have not had an opportunity to
retrieve a weapon. So, either lend me one, or prepare to fight bare-
handed." 

Estel scowled, tried and failed to find fault with Glorfindel's
explanation, and then unsheathed a long hunting knife from his side.
"I don't have two swords. We'll have to use knives." 

"Fair enough," Glorfindel said agreeably, and took the blade from
Estel. He hefted it. "Nice knife." 

Estel eyed him suspiciously. "It was a parting gift from the
Dunedain." 

"I'll do my best not to damage it, then." Glorfindel settled back
into a fighting stance, as naturally as breathing, in the open space
that had been cleared between tables. Estel matched him with a more
conscious grace. 

As Estel began his first swing, and Glorfindel started to shift into
a parry, they were both distracted by a shriek from the doorway.
Glorfindel jerked around to look; Estel completed his motion and
sliced into the blond warrior's arm. "Glorfindel!" 

Erestor bolted across the hall in a flash, seized Estel's knife by
the blade, and threw it aside. "You <i>idiot</i>!" he shouted
furiously, his voice cracking. His face was a sickly shade of white,
and he appeared not to have noticed that his palm was bleeding
profusely. "You STUPID, HALF-WITTED - "

"Don't EVER do that again!" Glorfindel screamed back at him. His
face was ever paler than Erestor's. "Running into the middle of a
duel, you could have been KILLED, what in the name of all the gods
were you THINKING!" 

"What was <i>I</i> thinking? What were <i>you</i> thinking?! You
moronic twit, what were you <i>doing</i>, fighting in the middle of
the hall - " Erestor scrubbed impatiently at the tears tracking down
his cheeks, leaving bright red smudges of blood from the slice on
his palm. 

"Erestor. You're bleeding." Glorfindel grabbed his hand, any
remaining trace of color draining out of his face. "Erestor.
Erestor!" He pulled his lover into a strangling embrace, burying his
face in Erestor's tangled dark hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm
sorry, Erestor, I'm sorry, please, just let Elrond look at your
hand, all right?" 

"You scared me half to death," Erestor whispered into Glorfindel's
chest. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Glorfindel kept murmuring, pressing frantic
kisses to the top of Erestor's head. "Please, let Elrond make sure
you're all right?" 

"It's just a scratch," Erestor said gently, holding up his hand for
Glorfindel to see. "I'm fine. What about your arm?" 

"What about it?" Glorfindel asked, distracted, as he examined the
cut on Erestor's palm. 

"That's rather more than a scratch," Elrond interrupted, gazing at
the wound over Glorfindel's shoulder, "but you don't really need my
help with it. It's a clean slice. Glorfindel, you're certainly
competent enough to take care of it. And have Erestor wash off your
arm before you bandage it up." 

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Erestor replied for both of them, as he
and Glorfindel supported each other out of the hall. 

Estel stared after them. "But I won." 

Elrond started to laugh, still shaken by all the sudden action. "Try
telling Erestor that." 

16. invincible; unrivaled

"Look, Erestor, it really isn't that hard," Glorfindel sighed
wearily. "You <i>hold</i> the sword. By the handle. It's also called
the hilt. You <i>lift</i> the sword into the air. You then <i>swing
</i> it at your opponent. You don't swing it at yourself. There's no
<i>way</i> you could hurt yourself. The hurting comes when your
opponent swings back. I won't attack you. I'll just block. You'll be
fine." 

Erestor glared suspiciously at the practice sword Glorfindel had
pressed into his hand. "Do you remember what I told you about me and
weapons, Glorfindel? They result in blood and pain. <i>My</i> blood
and pain. Every weaponsmaster in Lindon tried and failed to teach me
how to use one of these things. <i>Gil-galad</i> tried to teach me
how to use one of these things. I broke the sword, sprained my
ankle, and destroyed three mirrors in his practice salle in <i>one
afternoon</i>." 

"Erestor, the sword is made of wood," Glorfindel replied
unsympathetically. "It is <i>dull</i>. There will be no blood, and
the only pain will be mine, if you smack me too hard. Now swing the
damn sword." 

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Erestor muttered, and swung.
Glorfindel blocked easily. 

"See? That wasn't so bad. Now, shift your stance to the one I taught
you. Your feet aren't aligned properly." Erestor glared, and shifted
his feet. "Good! Try again." 

Erestor lunged, tripped over his own feet in their unfamiliar
configuration, and fell hard. One arm got caught between his body
and the wooden practice sword; his free hand hit the ground in
exactly the wrong way, trapped beneath the thick wooden blade. There
was a loud <i>snap</i>. 

"Only you, Erestor, could break that sword without trying,"
Glorfindel chuckled, bending down to help Erestor up. As he pulled
his slender lover into a sitting position, he couldn't help but
notice that Erestor was a deathly shade of pale. Also, the practice
sword was completely intact. 

"Ow," Erestor said distinctly, staring down at his wrist. It was
bent at a highly unnatural angle. He paused briefly to think, then
added, more emphatically, "<i>Ow</i>." 

Glorfindel, widely held to be the greatest warrior of all time, the
only living Balrog Slayer in the world, went a sickly green. "Oh.
<i>Oh</i>." 

"OW," Erestor reiterated, in case Glorfindel had missed the first
two times, and passed out. Glorfindel shrieked like a girl. Several
of his men immediately ran out of the room to fetch Elrond. The rest
backed away, wisely, as Glorfindel proceeded to have a full-blown
hyperventilating panic-attack. 

"Oh, honestly, Glorfindel," Elrond said disgustedly as he hurried
into the room, much to the relief of the guards. He pushed
Glorfindel out of the way and examined Erestor's arm quickly. "It's
just broken. You'd think he'd died, the way you're carrying on." 

"But - but - Erestor - " 

"Shut up," Elrond replied absently. He set Erestor's arm swiftly and
efficiently, and splinted it using the wooden sword and strips of
fabric torn from his outer robe. "Make yourself useful and bring him
to the Halls of Healing so I can wrap that up properly, and stop
fussing like a hysterical girl-child. He'll be fine in a few
weeks." 

"Yes, Elrond," Glorfindel said quietly, and obeyed. 

*

"I suppose that could have been worse," Erestor said upon waking in
the Halls of Healing. 

Glorfindel, who had fallen asleep while kneeling at his bedside,
jerked awake. "Erestor, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have - "

"It's fine," Erestor replied, yawning. "I wouldn't have let you make
me if I didn't want to try it. I suppose you'll have to fight my
duels for me for a while, though," he added with a faint smile. 

"I'll win every challenge for you," Glorfindel vowed, half-serious. 

"Good," Erestor teased. "My champion must be undefeated. My honor
hangs in the balance." 

Glorfindel got to his feet and bent over Erestor, his eyes strangely
intent. "I'll protect you and your honor with my life," he promised
fiercely. "I'll never let you get hurt again." 

Erestor would have said something light-hearted to break the odd
mood that seemed to have settled over the blond warrior, but he
immediately leaned down and kissed Erestor's breath away, and by the
time their lips parted, Erestor had forgotten what he wanted to say. 

17. kHz (kilohertz)

Erestor stared down at the document on his desk, his lips pressed
together into a thin white line. He'd drawn the proposal himself,
drafted it, and gotten all the signatures to put it into effect -
except his own. But all the Valar in the Undying Lands knew he
didn't want to sign it. 

Resisting the urge to crumple up the accursed paper into a ball and
hurl it into the fire, he dipped his quill into his ink-pot and
carefully added his own name to the list of approvals at the bottom
of the sheet. He dusted sand over the parchment to dry the
glistening ink, folded it precisely into thirds, and set it down on
the pile of out-going documents. Then he slammed his quill down on
his desk, threw his ink-bottle at the fireplace, and stormed out of
his office to the tinkling accompaniment of shattering glass. 

*

Elrond found him several hours later, asleep and curled up in a
window-seat with a good view of the road into the Valley. He sat
beside his wayward advisor and woke him with the gentle press of
lips on his forehead. "You missed dinner," Elrond said mildly,
watching Erestor's eyes flutter open. 

"I wasn't hungry," Erestor replied flatly, turning to stare out the
window again. 

"You still need to eat." Elrond scooted closer and gazed cautiously
down at Erestor's angry expression. The cold moonlight threw all the
sharp, bony edges of Erestor's underfed face into even sharper
relief. "He'll be home tomorrow, Erestor." 

"And he'll leave the day after." Erestor shifted away from Elrond
and pressed his cheek up against the windowpane. His breath had
fogged up the glass beyond all hope of seeing through it before he
spoke again. 

"One week every four months, when we met. I could never wait until
he was gone, and I barely blinked and he'd be back again with
something new to annoy me with. 

"Twenty years ago we decided it should be one week every three
months. It wasn't quite safe anymore. Then one week every two
months, then a week every month, then two, and I just signed the
Valar-curst piece of parchment that says he's to be away three weeks
in every four." His voice caught as he choked down tears, and he
made no movement to resist as Elrond gathered him in his arms,
stroking his back soothingly. "I can't eat and I can't sleep and
every second he's away I'm afraid he'll do something unbelievably
stupid and heroic and <i>Glorfindel</i> and get himself killed and I
just want him to come home - " 

Erestor began to cry, the sort of graceless, inelegant crying
expected of small children, full of gasping sobs and hiccups. Elrond
held him helplessly, murmuring comforting nonsense that they both
knew meant nothing. As his tears slowed, Erestor whispered
miserably, "Why couldn't this have happened when I still hated
him?"  

6. the space between dream and reality

"GLORFINDEL!" Erestor screamed and sat straight up in bed.
Immediately he turned to his left, but the space that Glorfindel
usually occupied was empty. Erestor gasped for breath, and began to
sob in mindless fear. 

"Erestor? Erestor!" Glorfindel bolted in from the next room, eyes
wide. He flung himself down beside his lover and wrapped his arms
around him. "Erestor, it's all right. It was just a dream. Shhhhhh.
It's all right." Erestor continued crying, his chest heaving as he
struggled for air between sobs. "Erestor, do you want some water?"
He started to disentangle himself from Erestor to go fetch a drink,
but the dark-haired elf seized him in a grip tight enough to cut off
oxygen and blood-circulation. 

"Don't leave me," Erestor begged hoarsely. 

"I'm not leaving you," Glorfindel murmured soothingly, pressing a
kiss to Erestor's forehead. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.
Erestor, it's really all right." 

Erestor's arms eventually loosened enough for comfort, and his tears
slowed. Glorfindel held him patiently, stroking his back and wiping
his cheeks once he could free a hand. "It's all right," he whispered
softly into Erestor's pointed ear. "It's all right, Erestor, it's
all right." 

"I thought you weren't due back from patrol for another two days,"
Erestor finally managed to get out, his voice rough. 

"We got back early," Glorfindel replied, frowning. "I didn't want to
wake you up, so I was reading in the study." 

"Next time, you can wake me up," Erestor said with painfully dry
humor. 

"<i>Next</i> time? Has this happened before?" 

"Often enough," Erestor admitted, pulling Glorfindel down to lie on
the bed beside him. 

"But you've <i>never</i> had a nightmare when I'm sleeping with
you..." 

"Precisely," Erestor answered wryly. 

"...oh." Glorfindel ran his fingers through his lover's sleep-
tangled hair. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"<i>No</i>," Erestor said fiercely, his arms tightening like a vise
around Glorfindel. "Just... stay put, all right?" 

"All right." Glorfindel kept stroking Erestor's hair, as much out of
habit now as any desire to comfort. "I could ask Elrond to let me
stay in Imladris for more of the patrols if -" he offered
hesitantly. 

"<i>NO</i>," Erestor cut him off, sharper and angrier than before.
"I'm not stupid, Glorfindel. I helped draw up those patrol schedules
myself. I know you have to go." He shivered involuntarily. "It's
more dangerous now. That's why you have to go." 

"Erestor, I'll be fine, I pro-"

"Don't promise me that," Erestor snapped. "I don't want to hear it.
<i>Ever</i>. Don't make promises you can't keep." 

"All right," Glorfindel replied quietly. 

Erestor squirmed in his arms, cuddling closer. "Just stay there, all
right?" he asked, more softly. "I'll be fine in the morning." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Glorfindel told him. He waited until
Erestor's eyes had glazed over with dreams before he added, in a
whisper of breath as he pressed his lips to Erestor's, "I promise." 

20. the road home

"Er... Sam," Merry said nervously. "Do you get the impression that
Mister Strider and his elfy friend don't get along too well?" 

Sam glanced up the path to where Strider and the blond elf he had
introduced as Glorfindel were engaged in a rather... spirited
debate. But it was in Elvish, and with Master Frodo gone with the
elf-lady, none of the hobbits could understand what was being said.
Maybe Elvish always sounded angry. 

"I'm sure Mister Strider and Mister Glorfindel would never endanger
us by fighting on the road," he reassured Merry firmly. Then he
looked back at Strider, hoping that his anxious gaze would somehow
prevent the violence hanging over the two warriors from exploding. 

*

"When this is all over, you insolent whelp, we shall have this out
once and for all, and I shall render you of considerably less use to
darling Arwen before I am through," Glorfindel hissed from between
gritted teeth, glaring at Aragorn. 

"Only in your wildest fancies," Aragorn retorted. "I beat you once;
I'll beat you a second time." 

"I was bloody well distracted and hung-over, and I taught you
everything you know, you ungrateful brat." 

"Is it not a fine day when the student surpasses his teacher?"
Aragorn asked innocently. 

Glorfindel snarled. "I should beat you unconscious and have your
horse-thieving lady sew your braggart mouth shut, and were Erestor
not so misguidedly fond of you, believe me, I would." 

"Horse-thieving?" Aragorn repeated indignantly. "Arwen is not a
thief!" 

"She stole my horse!" Glorfindel replied with considerable
frustration. "An entire stableful to choose from, and she had to
steal <i>mine</i>!" 

"Asfaloth is the fastest horse in Father's stable, and how did you
get here anyway, if she took your horse?" 

"I stole Erestor's," Glorfindel answered promptly. 

Aragorn stopped dead and stared at him. 

"What? Erestor can't ride her. Isn't that right, Firesnap?"
Glorfindel crooned, stroking his stolen mare's nose. The horse
immediately attempted to bite off his hand; Glorfindel pulled it
back just in time. "Bad Firesnap," he reprimanded the mare mildly.
"No apples for you." 

The horse whuffled, and tried to step on Glorfindel's foot. 

*

"Here we are in Rivendell, young master hobbits," Aragorn said
encouragingly. He'd dropped back some time ago to walk with the
drooping halflings, after he and Glorfindel had decided to press on
after dark. 

"Oh, good," sighed Merry. 

"Can we see Master Frodo?" Sam asked anxiously. 

"And is there anything to eat?" Pippin added. 

"After we get inside the house, young master hobbits," Aragorn
laughed, and led the three weary halflings up the path to his
father's house. He paused when Sam tugged on his sleeve to hold him
back. "Yes, Samwise?" 

"Mister Strider, is that Master Glorfindel's lady?" 

Sam pointed back at a slim shadow that had detached itself from the
general darkness of the night and come out to meet Glorfindel. The
black-cloaked figure now stood wrapped in the circle of Glorfindel's
arms, face hidden in the blond warrior's neck. 

Aragorn chuckled. "I suppose you could say so, in a manner of
speaking. Come along, young master hobbits; your midnight snack
awaits you." 

*

"You should be in bed," Glorfindel murmured into Erestor's hair.
"You'll catch cold waiting out here." 

"I couldn't sleep," Erestor replied indistinctly, into the fabric of
Glorfindel's cloak. 

Glorfindel's arms tightened instinctively. "Nightmares again?" 

Erestor didn't answer, which was answer enough. "Erestor..." 

"Elrond said you'd be home tonight. I wanted to wait for you."
Erestor pressed himself closer to Glorfindel's body, clinging to him
almost. Glorfindel wrapped his cloak around both of them and leaned
down for a soft kiss. 

"I'm home now," Glorfindel said gently, when he drew back. Erestor
settled into the warm circle of his arms and cloak with a quiet
sigh. Despite the chill in the air, they remained out in the gardens
for a very long time. 

25. fence

"Elrond?" 

The lord of Rivendell looked up from his evening reading at his
advisor's soft voice. Erestor was standing in the doorway, gripping
the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Come in,
Erestor," Elrond invited gently. Erestor ghosted into the room and
settled into the chair opposite Elrond's. 

Elrond sat back and examined his friend with an objective eye.
Erestor kept getting thinner and paler, which only made the shadows
under his eyes stand out more. It was hard to get him to eat while
Glorfindel was away on patrol, and he was even worse than Arwen when
it came to staying up all night staring out the window. On the other
hand, the paperwork involved in running the household had never been
so well kept-up; Erestor always worked better when he was unhappy.
Elrond suppressed the uncharitable wish that his daughter be half so
useful in her lovesickness, and brought his attention back to the
present moment. Before he could organize an innocuous but leading
question to get Erestor talking, the advisor spoke. 

"There's going to be a war, isn't there? That's why you had the
weaponsmiths reforge the shards of Narsil." 

"Yes, there will," Elrond confirmed, sighing inwardly. "Glorfindel
and the twins will be bringing a contingent - some Dunedain, some
elves who have not yet sailed - to help Estel." 

"I want to go," Erestor said firmly. Elrond stared. 

"Erestor - "

"I don't care what you need me to do. I'll organize camps, I'll look
after the supply train, I'll nurse the wounded. But I <i>need</i> to
be there. I can't just stay here in Rivendell. Not this time." 

Elrond was silent for a long moment, while Erestor kept his gaze
fixed on his liege lord, looking more determined than he had in
months. "I won't send you with them," he said at last, raising a
hand to forestall Erestor's protests. "But I'll bring you with me
when I go to Gondor. You'd only slow down a small group of soldiers,
but if this goes the way I suspect it will, we'll need your
expertise with large armies before we're done." 

"But - what am I going to be doing?" Erestor asked, puzzled.
"Quartermaster, or military liaison, or..." 

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "We'll call you my strategic advisor and
leave it at that. I've never yet won a chess game against you;
you'll be a natural." 

*

Elrond, Erestor and their very small train of attendants arrived in
Minas Tirith the day after the battle ended. They were ushered into
Aragorn's presence immediately, although Erestor could see Elrond's
healer's fingers twitching with the urge to tend to the wounded.
Elrond was greeted with all due affection and ceremony, but as soon
as Erestor shoved back his hood to reveal his face, Estel swept him
up in a tight bear hug and swung him around several times, murmuring
in Elvish the whole time. 

"Oi, laddie," Gimli muttered, elbowing Legolas. "Is that the elfy
lady he turned down Eowyn for?" 

Legolas doubled over, laughing so hard he nearly choked to death.
"Gimli, you twit," he gasped out, keeping his voice low in an
attempt not to interrupt Aragorn's reunion with his first true love.
"That's Master Erestor. He sat on the council at Rivendell,
remember?" Then he started laughing again, stopping only when he
needed to wheeze for breath. "I can't believe you thought he was
Lady Arwen!" 

"Well, I only saw either of them from a distance!" Gimli said
defensively. "They both have the hair, and all your elf-ladies are
skinny as boys, anyway..." 

Legolas rubbed a hand over his eyes, wiping away tears of amusement.
"Better not tell Glorfindel that," he remarked, still grinning fit
to split his face in half. "Oh! Speak of the devil..." 

Glorfindel came storming into the room, his expression dark as a
stormcloud. "Elrond!" he snarled. "What in the name of all the Valar
is <i>he</i> doing here?" Erestor, still in Estel's arms, stepped
back and stood up straight, his chin lifting defiantly. 

"Erestor is currently serving as my strategic advisor," Elrond
replied mildly. 

"Well, send him home <i>now</i>!" Glorfindel demanded furiously. "He
has no business anywhere <i>near</i> a battlefield!" 

"No," Erestor said flatly, stepping between Elrond and Glorfindel.
"I have duties to perform here." 

"You have duties to perform at <i>home</i>, where it's safe!"
Glorfindel snapped. 

"This is more important. I served in the war of the Rings,
Glorfindel," Erestor added, more gently. "I know what I'm doing." 

"What you're doing is riding straight back to Rivendell as soon as I
can tie you into the saddle!" Glorfindel shouted, and stalked out of
the hall, looking even angrier than he had when he came in. 

"Erestor," Aragorn said softly, wrapping an arm around the elf's
skinny shoulders. 

"Hmm? Oh, don't worry about it, Estel. I knew he'd react like that.
It's not important." He shrugged Aragorn's embrace away, and glanced
over at Elrond. "House of Healing, right?" 

They did spend the rest of the day caring for wounded soldiers, but
after one disastrous attempt at bandaging, Erestor was relegated to
holding water basins. His arms were very tired by dinnertime, and
even under Elrond's eagle eye, he couldn't bring himself to eat
much. Glorfindel declined to attend the meal. 

*

That night, Erestor was awakened from a fitful sleep by the creak of
his door. "Hello, Glorfindel." he said, too weary to play games. 

"<i>Please</i> go home," Glorfindel begged, coming to kneel by
Erestor's bedside. 

"I can't." 

"Erestor, I don't <i>want</i> you here." 

"Well, believe it or not, not everything in this world is about what
you want!" 

"Erestor, <i>please</i>! Do you even understand? You could get hurt,
you could <i>die</i>, and if anything happened to you it would kill
me!" 

"Glorfindel..." Erestor leaned down and pulled Glorfindel up to sit
beside him. "Glorfindel, I <i>need</i> to do this. This is a part of
your life, and I won't let you keep me out of it anymore. Either you
can love me as your equal, and trust me not to do anything stupid
and get myself killed, or I can't love you. Can you understand
that?" 

"Please tell me you didn't do all this just to prove a point." 

Erestor rolled his eyes, annoyed at Glorfindel's evasion. "Of course
not. That falls under 'trusting me not to be stupid.' I wasn't about
to let Elrond ride off alone to make an idiotic hero of himself, and
I'm the best damn military organizer in Rivendell. Proving a point
was just a nice bonus. And anyway..." His voice wavered the tiniest
bit. "I've missed you." 

Glorfindel sighed, burying his face in Erestor's hair. "I've missed
you, too." 

Erestor tugged Glorfindel's head down for a fierce kiss. "Then since
I think this is the last bed we'll have for quite a while, now would
be a good opportunity to make up for lost time, wouldn't you say?" 

Glorfindel would have agreed, but he was too busy obeying Erestor's
suggestion to talk. 

11. gardenia

Glorfindel had been looking for Erestor for nearly three hours by
the time he finally found him, out in the gardens. He was staring at
a tiny sprig of greenery as if it contained all the secrets of the
universe. 

"Ah, Erestor? Are you all right?" 

"Do you suppose these grow in Valinor?" Erestor asked abruptly,
twining the flower stem into a ring around his middle finger. 

"There are plenty of flowers in Valinor," Glorfindel replied,
puzzled. 

"Oh, I know. But do they have <i>these</i> flowers?" 

Glorfindel looked more closely at the little white flower, and
suddenly recognized it. He and Erestor had helped Arwen make her
wedding circlet from them. "I don't know. Does it matter?" 

"Maybe," Erestor sighed wistfully. "It just won't be the same." 

Glorfindel stared at the distant look on Erestor's face with a
sinking feeling in his stomach. "You know Elrond would never force
you to go, if you wanted to stay." 

"I would hardly let him sail alone," Erestor said, insulted, "and he
has no choice. Everyone is leaving, anyway. Most of us are probably
a little unsettled about it." 

"Not everyone," Glorfindel contradicted softly. "Celeborn is
staying. And the twins, for now. Erestor - if you don't want to go -
" 

"It's funny, really," Erestor interrupted. "That after the life I've
had, I would be afraid of change." He pulled the circle of greenery
off his finger and placed it in Glorfindel's hand, looking up at him
for the first time that day. "Promise me you won't be different?" 

"I can't. I'll get older, and hopefully wiser, and probably fat,
with all the food and lack of exercise I'm about to get. But I
promise you, the way I feel for you will never change." Glorfindel
caught Erestor's chin with the hand that wasn't holding his flower-
ring, and pulled him nearer for a kiss. 

"You certainly have changed, now that I think about it," Erestor
sighed, resting his forehead against Glorfindel's shoulder. "You
would have sooner slit your wrists than say anything so sentimental,
a thousand years ago." 

"And you would have sooner sliced your ears off than listen to me
say it," Glorfindel returned, smiling now that Erestor's pensive
mood seemed to have passed. "Change isn't always a bad thing." 

"I don't know. Promise me you'll never write me love poetry?" 

Glorfindel snorted. "I promise I will never change <i>that</i>
much." 

29. the sound of waves

Glorfindel had been running along the beach for hours looking for
Erestor, but when he finally found him, he almost tripped over him.
The dark-haired counselor was kneeling on the damp sand at the edge
of the water, tracing characters in Tengwar and watching the waves
wash them away. Glorfindel recognized Erestor's name, and his own,
Elrond's, Galadriel's... name after name dissolved into the
encroaching tide. "It's almost time to board the ship," he said
softly. Erestor did not look up. 

"I'm almost done." He wrote Arwen's name in the sand, and Estel's,
and the name they had chosen for their son. He dug deeper for their
names than he had for the others, and it took several waves before
they vanished completely. When they were gone, Erestor got to his
feet, brushing ineffectually at the sand all over his clothing. "Did
Elrond send you to find me?"

"I would have come anyway." 

Erestor sighed and rested his head on Glorfindel's shoulder, gazing
out as the sun sparkled on the sea. "Let's go, then," he said at
last. He tucked his gritty fingers into Glorfindel's hand and
allowed himself to be led back up the beach, following Glorfindel's
footsteps to the boat that would take them away to Valinor. 

*

Hours later, Erestor sat in Glorfindel's arms, listening to the slap
of waves against the side of the ship. "I'd never seen the sea
before today," he remarked idly. 

"Never?" Glorfindel asked, startled. 

"I was afraid I'd start to pine for it, for Valinor. I didn't want
to leave the Valley before I had to." 

"Celeborn and the twins will take good care of Rivendell,"
Glorfindel said reassuringly. 

"I know," Erestor sighed. "And I'm sure I'll love Valinor. Everyone
says it's a beautiful land. It just won't be the same." 

Glorfindel rested his chin on the top of Erestor's head. "There's no
rule that says you can't miss Imladris when you're in Valinor. We're
immortal, Erestor. We'd be strange creatures indeed if we could live
with no regrets." 

"Do you suppose you'll ever regret this? Us, I mean." Erestor leaned
back into the warmth of Glorfindel's embrace, and pressed his nose
into the hollow of Glorfindel's throat. "I'm sorry. I suppose the
water makes me pensive." 

Glorfindel smiled and shifted Erestor so that he could reach his
mouth for a soft kiss. "No. No, I don't believe I ever will."