Title: The Unfurling of Love
Author: Inwë Sáralondë (mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters (wish I did though); they 
are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this.
Summary: Erestor doesn’t want to let others know of the relationship, but 
Glorfindel sets out to convince him otherwise…
Warnings: None
Beta: Yvonne – thank you, as always, for your suggestions !
Archive: Please ask…
Authors Note: For those who asked, this is the sequel to ‘A Picnic in the 
Snow’; my thanks again to my husband Gary for his suggestions, his 
support and not thinking I’m crazy writing this sort of thing…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asfaloth gave a small whinny as the seneschal poured the oats into his 
feed trough. He immediately buried his nose into the food, his tail 
swishing slightly in contentment.

Glorfindel gave the horse a final pat before closing the door to the box. He 
had returned from patrol an hour since, and the seneschal of Imladris was 
happy the day had passed without incident. 

The golden-haired warrior’s thoughts turned briefly to Elrond’s sons; 
since the thawing of the snow, the twins had ridden out on a daily basis, 
seeking out any orcs that dared to venture near the borders of Imladris. 
Though Elrond hid his feelings well, Glorfindel knew he was worried for 
his sons. Since their mother’s passing to the Havens all those years ago, 
the twins had embarked on an orgy of bloodlust, deliberately seeking out 
the orcs and killing them in revenge of what had been done to Celebrían.

“Glorfindel?” The voice brought the seneschal out from his musings. 
Turning his head, he looked at the figure standing in the stable doorway.

“Erestor – what brings you here?”

“I am here to remind you.”

Glorfindel looked at Erestor, the puzzlement evident on his face. “Remind 
me of what?”

“The delegation from Mirkwood arrived today; you were supposed to go 
straight to Elrond’s study as soon as you had returned from patrol.”

“Oh Valar…I had forgotten all about it.” Glorfindel looked down at his 
clothes and sighed. “I will need to return to my rooms to change; I can not 
appear looking like this!” He looked at the advisor. “Why did you not 
come down earlier to remind me?!” he asked, annoyance clearly evident in 
his voice.

“Glorfindel, I am *not* your keeper. I help Lord Elrond. I should think 
that you were quite capable of remembering things yourself,” Erestor 
snapped back, anger colouring his cheeks.

Glorfindel bit back his retort; right now there were more important things 
to be done that standing here having a verbal sparring match with Erestor.

“Kindly inform Lord Elrond that I will be with him as soon as I have 
tidied myself.” The seneschal brushed past Erestor, leaving the dark-
haired elf in his wake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Then it is settled. I will draft a reply to Thranduil tomorrow morning; I 
trust I can persuade you to remain in Imladris for another day? I believe 
my sons will be returning tomorrow, and they would be eager to see you 
again, Legolas.”

“Thank you, my Lord; I accept your kind invitation. I, too, look forward to 
seeing them. But if you will excuse me, my Lord, I will return to my room 
to freshen myself before dinner.” At Elrond’s nod, Legolas left the room, 
closing the door gently behind him.

Elrond’s gaze moved to the seneschal slumped in the chair. “A long day, 
Glorfindel?” he enquired.

“Hmm? Oh. Forgive me, my Lord – my thoughts were elsewhere.” 
Glorfindel straightened himself. “I am pleased to report that nothing 
untoward happened today. Things have been quiet as of late, but we all 
know that this respite will not last. Once the last of the snow has thawed, 
we can expect to see increased orc activity near our borders again.”

“Yes, I do know. And it means my sons will be away from home for 
longer periods of time.” The Lord of Imladris sighed. “Erestor, please 
inform the kitchen to serve dinner in half an hour, and apologise to them 
for the delay.” The advisor gave a small bow before exiting the room.

“I must apologise once again for my tardiness…”

“No apology is needed, my friend. I understand your preference for 
looking after Asfaloth yourself, and no one knows better than I how easy it 
is to forget the time.”

Elrond reached for the carafe standing on his desk and poured two 
generous measures of wine into the goblets before passing one to 
Glorfindel.

“Tell me, Glorfindel,” said Elrond, taking a sip before setting the goblet 
down, “what has happened between yourself and Erestor?”

“Happened? I do not understand what you mean…”

“Glorfindel, I am aware of practically everything that happens here. I 
know that…things…have progressed further between yourself and 
Erestor. All I can say is that it took you both long enough! I was beginning 
to despair as to whether the two of you would ever declare your feelings to 
each other. I swear that I would have done something eventually to make 
you both come to your senses!”

The seneschal could only stare at Elrond. “But how…we have been 
discreet…we did not want…”

“You mean, Erestor did not want. I know my chief advisor well.” Elrond 
gave a small smile. “I can also tell you with absolute certainty that it was 
Erestor who made the first move – which, I must admit, surprises me a 
little.” He chuckled at the stunned expression on Glorfindel’s face. “The 
reason why I know this, my dear Glorfindel, is I found a bottle of one of 
my best wines missing. Now,” settling back in his chair, the Lord then 
continued, “if it had been you, you would have brazenly walked in and 
taken the bottle from right under my nose, as well as telling me – without 
hesitation, as is your want – the purpose for which it was to be used for.” 
Glorfindel could feel his face turning red. “It can not be my sons – they 
are completely unaware of my ‘hidden cache’, for which I am truly 
thankful; otherwise I would have nothing left at all. Therefore, it only 
leaves Erestor. He is the only other person who knows where I keep the 
wine.” Picking up the goblet, Elrond took another sip. “Have you 
quarrelled?”

“Not as such, Elrond,” Glorfindel replied. “You could say that we fail to 
agree on some things.”

“Such as?”

“Really, Elrond, they are too trifling to talk about.”

“Then if they are so trifling, why fall out over them? Though I suspect one 
of the things that you do not agree on is letting others know of your 
feelings for each other. As I said, I know my chief advisor well. You wish 
to declare your love; you are more open with your feelings. However, he 
does not. And I must confess that I would side with you on this one, as I 
do not believe that either of you have anything to be ashamed about. You 
love each other, and love should never be hidden.”

“Then how do I convince Erestor of this? Every time I broach the subject, 
he dismisses it, saying he does not wish for anyone else to know as yet. 
And when I ask him when would be a ‘good time’ to let others know he 
can not give me an answer! I know it is early days yet, but I do not wish to 
hide my love for him. I do not want to keep creeping to his rooms, spend 
the night there and then creep back to mine before the breaking of the 
dawn! It makes it all seem so…sordid!”

“You go to his rooms?”

“He refuses to come to mine. He says they are too ostentatious.”

Elrond grinned at the look of disgust that crossed the seneschal’s face. 
“Not everybody shares your tastes, mellon-nín,” he said.

“Erestor certainly does not,” Glorfindel replied morosely.

“Which means that when the time comes you would be moving into his 
rooms,” Elrond said.

Glorfindel shot the Lord of Imladris a filthy look. “Are you not getting 
ahead of yourself, my Lord?” he enquired. “I think it would be a question 
of ‘if’ rather than ‘when’.”

“So you plan to keep with Erestor’s wishes in keeping your relationship 
secret. I am disappointed in you Glorfindel. I would have thought that you, 
of all people, would seek to find a way around this.”

“Do *you* have any suggestions, Elrond? If you do, please, tell me!”

“Very simple, Glorfindel. Show your love for him when others are 
present.”

“He will not like that,” the seneschal warned.

“Possibly not.” Elrond looked at his goblet contemplatively. “I think, 
however, that our advisor just needs to be steered in the right direction…”

“Steered in the right direction? I do not understand what you mean.”

“What I am suggesting is that Erestor needs to be shown how to…express 
his feelings. He is so used to keeping his thoughts and emotions to himself 
that he does not know how to, despite seeing others doing so; Elrohir and 
Lindir, myself and Celebrían…” Here Elrond’s voice petered off, lost in 
his memories.

“Elrond?”

“Hmm? Forgive me, mellon-nín – my thoughts were elsewhere.”

“I understand; the pain is still there, despite the time that has passed.”

“Yes, it is…it is…” came the whispered reply. Elrond gave himself a 
small shake before favouring Glorfindel with a wan smile. “No more 
reminiscing…we need to concentrate on Erestor.”

“And I think I know how to begin – with a hair clip.” Elrond raised an 
eyebrow. “Hair clip?” he enquired, clearly puzzled.

“Erestor gave me a gift the day we declared our feelings for each other; a 
hair clip which, at Erestor’s behest, I have never worn…I think he was 
embarrassed at having given it to me, so I fell in with his wishes and keep 
it in a small box in my room. But now I think it is time I started wearing 
it…” Glorfindel rose up from his chair and headed towards the door. “In 
fact, I shall wear it tonight at dinner. Thank you, Elrond.” Opening the 
door, he gave the Lord of Imladris a broad grin before leaving the room. 
Elrond took another sip from his goblet; then shook his head a little in 
bemusement. “You are welcome, my friend,” he said, smiling to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing?!”

Glorfindel turned at the sound of Erestor’s voice. “What do you mean, 
what am I doing?” he enquired.

“The hair clip! Why are you wearing it? I asked you not to!”

“I know you did. Yet it is too pretty to keep it hidden, and I do not see 
why I should *not* be wearing it.”

“But everyone will ask where you got it from! What are you going to tell 
them?”

“The truth, meleth-nín – that you gave it to me,” Glorfindel replied 
calmly, looking at the chief advisor who was, by now, walking about 
agitatedly in the room.

“Then they will want to know *why* I gave it to you! You agreed with me 
to keep our relationship secret, Glorfindel!”

“I agreed with reluctance, Erestor. But I have had enough of this. I want to 
let others know of the love we share…”

“No.”

“Erestor…”

“No! I swear, Glorfindel, if you say so much as one word, I will…I 
will…” Any further protests were silenced as Glorfindel grabbed the 
advisor and began to kiss him senseless. 

Some minutes later, they broke apart. “I wish…you…would not…do 
that…” Erestor was gasping for breath.

“Ah, but I enjoy doing that, meleth-nín.” Glorfindel held the trembling 
Erestor in his arms, the advisor’s face buried in his tunic. “Listen to me, 
meleth-nín; I am not ashamed to love you. I am not afraid to let others 
know I love you. What is it that stops *you* from letting others know you 
love me?”

“I…I am afraid of what they would say,” came the muffled voice.

“Say?” Glorfindel pushed Erestor away from him, holding him at arm’s 
length. “What should they say? Do you think that because you are 
Elrond’s chief advisor that you should not love anyone, that you must 
remain detached from your emotions?”

“It is not so much that I love you…they would find that strange, true, but 
you are so beautiful; practically every elf has fallen for you. It is just they 
will wonder what I did to make you love me,” replied Erestor in a small 
voice.

“Make me love you…I can not believe I am hearing this!” Glorfindel 
stepped away from the advisor, running his hand through his hair.

Erestor stood there, twisting his hands in his robe, a look of misery on his 
face. Glorfindel sighed. “Listen to me, Erestor. You are the most 
exasperating, infuriating, sarcastic, sharp-tongued elf I have ever come 
across. You continually give others the cold shoulder. You persistently 
have verbal sparring matches with practically every elf in Imladris – 
especially with myself. You wrap yourself in your own little world and try 
to exclude others as much as possible. Yet you care; I have watched you 
over the centuries when you were the twins’ tutor – despite your 
sometimes harsh words, you often let your guard down and I could see 
how much you really cared for them. And then there was Arwen; do not 
deny that she had you wrapped around her little finger – she knew you 
would give her what she wanted. I have seen that too. And I have seen 
how you took over from Elrond when he was caring for Celebrían after 
her attack, then later when she sailed to the Havens. I saw the compassion 
in your face when you insisted to Elrond that he should rest, that you 
would finish the task. Then there is Lindir; he dotes upon you. He felt lost 
and bereft when he first arrived in Imladris; you gave him an anchor – and 
love. And that is the elf I fell in love with. You are an elf full of 
contradictions, but one that I would willingly spend the rest of my life 
with. Those are the things that made me love you.”

The golden-haired seneschal took Erestor’s face between his hands. “And 
that is why I want to let others know I love you. Should they ask why, then 
I will tell them.”

Erestor gave a tremulous smile. “It took me so long to find my courage 
and let you know of my feelings, Glorfindel…I just wanted time to get 
used to the idea that you *did* love me as I love you.”

“I understand. You do realise that Elrond knows?”

“How?”

Glorfindel chuckled. “As he told me, he is practically aware of everything 
that goes on here. Which is true…nothing seems to escape his notice, 
including the missing bottle of wine from his secret cache. And through 
his impeccable deductions of reasoning he determined that it was you who 
took it.” Erestor’s face blanched. “Do not fear, meleth-nín – I think you 
are safe from any ‘punishment’. Now, enough of this, otherwise we will 
be late for dinner.” Grabbing the dark-haired elf by the arm, Glorfindel 
opened the door and propelled him through before going through himself 
and shutting the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan spied the clip in the seneschal’s hair. “Glorfindel, ‘tis a pretty hair 
clip you wear. I have not seen it before.”

“It was given to me,” Glorfindel replied, taking a sip of his wine.

“Ah. Someone we know?” Elrohir asked.

“It was I that gave it to him.” The twins turned and looked at Erestor.

“You gave it to him? May one ask why?” Elladan enquired.

“Because…because I love him,” Erestor replied, looking at the golden-
haired elf. Glorfindel looked at advisor; he knew it the admission had not 
been easy for him. He reached out and took Erestor’s hand in his. “And I 
him,” he said simply.

“Yes!” Elladan gave a whoop of delight, causing everyone at the table to 
look at him in surprise. He turned to his twin. “You have lost your bet, 
Elrohir. I *told* you they loved each other! I knew it was just a matter of 
time before they finally came together, though I *was* beginning to 
despair when or whether they would!” Elladan picked up his goblet, still 
chortling with glee.

Elrond looked disapprovingly at his son. “You and Elrohir had a bet on 
whether Glorfindel and Erestor would ‘come together’?”

“Come Ada, even you were wondering whether they would or not, 
muttering under your breath and calling them silly fools…”

“Thank you, Elladan.” Elrond interrupted his son, and glanced briefly and 
his seneschal and chief advisor; the former with a look of amusement on 
his face, the other looking more than a little irate.

“May one enquire as to the nature of this ‘bet’?” Elrond asked, and saw 
the raising of Elladan’s eyebrow, so much like his own. “On the other 
hand, I do not think I wish to know.”

“Very wise, Ada,” said Elladan, looking at his disgruntled twin.

Glorfindel could see that Erestor was going to say something to the twins 
about the ‘bet’, and gently squeezed his hand, indicating he should say 
nothing. Brown eyes met blue, and Erestor gave a small sigh. They 
continued to look at each other, oblivious to the others sitting at the table, 
until their reverie was broken by the Prince of Mirkwood. They turned 
their eyes towards him.

“I propose a toast.” Legolas raised his goblet. “To Glorfindel and Erestor – 
may their love always remain true.”

Erestor looked back at Glorfindel, and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night…

“So, when do I move into your rooms?”

“My rooms? Your rooms are much bigger than mine; I thought I would 
move my things there.”

“But you complained they were too ostentatious!”

“That can easily be changed.”

“And *how* do you propose to change them?”

“I have not decided as yet; but do not fear, meleth-nín – I will not make 
any drastic changes. After all, I love you for *who* you are, not for tastes 
in decoration.”

“How reassuring to know that,” was the dry retort.

“Anyway, have we not better things to discuss than who will be moving 
where?”

“Did you have a specific subject in mind?”

“Shall I give you an indication?”

“Please do.”

The rustling of bed-sheets was heard, later replaced by soft moans and 
whispered words of love…in both elves’ minds, far more interesting than 
the decorations of a room…

~~ FINIS ~~