The next coherent thoughts Glorfindel had were hours later. He blinked and saw the cream-colored blanket that was clutched in his hands, wrapped around his arms. The table not far away, with an empty dish and an empty wine bottle and a mostly empty bottle of something else he remembered Faelion once bringing and leaving. The liquor had remained previously untouched.
There was the floor, as Glorfindel looked around more, and clothing left strewn on the floor. Obviously, he was naked, he realized as he shifted and felt the soft blanket slide over his hip. Then something else became evident – he was not alone.
He felt his heart flip over in his chest as someone behind him, pressed tightly for the couch was not very wide, snuggled closer. Glorfindel debated between turning around to see if it was who he knew it was, and staying in the same comfortable position he was in.
The hint of something tickled at his thoughts – a memory? A dream? It had to be a dream – nothing happened, he reasoned. Nothing would have happened. If Erestor drank most of the liquor that was gone – which had likely happened – I tended to pass out before anything could happen. And if anything had happened, Glorfindel would have remembered it clearly.
It would not return vaguely, as it was at the moment. He had at earlier times had daydreams of licking cheesecake off of Erestor’s fingers and chasing after the final bite take with his tongue. That was obviously a dream. Suggestive leers and a few improper comments were the usual material from dreams that left Glorfindel waking up in sweat soaked sheets.
The fact he was not damp and aroused upon waking did make him curious. Even more than that was the final wisp of his dream. Most of his dreams were not so vivid – the focus was, but the external components typically were not. He mulled over what his mind had replayed for him – standing in the room he was in now, and suddenly feeling powerful arms loop under his, pinning him back against a firm, warm chest. Kisses on his shoulders, and his neck, while his toes curled into the deerskin on the floor and one leg stumbled back as it slid. His lack of balance brought him closer, and he felt something hard poke him, peaking straining leather. It teased him in just the right spot, and instead of pulling away he arched his back and moaned...
But it was all a dream, Glorfindel convinced himself as he slid out of the loose embrace. Now he was sweating, and he walked briskly to the washroom without daring to look back. The only thing he was still wearing was the emerald, and he pulled it over his head and hung it on the handle of the door. If it was not a dream, he decided as the cold water poured down upon him, he would not be in the shape he was. There should have been a sign of something – a different feeling, a different mood – at the very least, he should be sore, and not just from all of the walking done the day before.
When he returned to the sitting room, he found Erestor was now awake. The table had been cleaned up, and their clothes were neatly folded, with the exception of Erestor’s pants as they were now being worn. The blanket was once again draped over the back of the couch, and Erestor sat reading a book and munching from a container of nuts he had found. “Good morning.”
Glorfindel listened to the sounds outside. The horses were in the pasture, and he could hear the sergeants’ orders to the newest batch of recruits. “Good afternoon,” he corrected. He searched a wooden chest for some fresh clothing, and finally came up with a few things that did not look too big. Since the aggressive training for the war, followed by the battles and his recovery, Glorfindel had lost enough weight to lead to diligent use of a belt for any pants that had yet to be taken in.
“No wonder I am hungry,” replied Erestor. “I imagine I must have had a lot to drink to put me out for that long.”
“I would not know,” Glorfindel said as he took the clothes with him back to the washroom in order to dress with some privacy. He dumped the towel he had wrapped around his waist into the bin at the door and returned wearing the loose fitting garments. “I recall barely a thing after we left Salgant’s house last night.”
“You must have had as much to drink as I did!” laughed Erestor. “I suppose between the wine and the cheesecake—“
“What was wrong with the cheesecake?”
“The cheesecake was literally dripping with brandy,” explained Erestor. “The only reason I know that was that I had one at Salgant’s house before we left. Each one probably had a full shot in it.”
Glorfindel looked to the bucket near the stairs, where the crumbled parchment that each one had been on was now wadded up in a ball and resting atop whatever else had recently been thrown away. “Do you remember me making an ass of myself for any reason?”
“No. You did scold me for taking a piss against the fence when we got here. Something about killing the grass and how you were going to make me resod it all if it stopped growing.”
“I... do not remember that, but it sounds like the sort of thing you would do, and the sort of thing I would say,” agreed Glorfindel. “If you did kill the grass, I am holding you to that.”
“Fair enough.” Erestor closed the book he was reading. “Too bad we did not bring Faelion with us last night. He could have told us what went on.”
Glorfindel nodded. “Unless he decided to get drunk, too.”
“Faelion still keeps an accurate memory when he gets drunk. I found that out when he was my understudy.”
“Oh? How did that happen?” asked Glorfindel.
“We spent an evening going over lines, and then we got drunk. The next day, he was able to recount a whole lot of things I said about Turgon and Thingol and other people I have issues with.”
There was a chair that looked a safe distance away to sit on. After the visions of the morning, Glorfindel felt awkward sitting on the same couch Erestor was on. Nothing had been said yet about how they had woken up; for that, Glorfindel was oddly thankful. “How can you be sure he is telling the truth, if you cannot recall what you said or did?”
“Well... why would he make something like that up?” Erestor frowned. “If he wanted to make things up, he would make up things that are not already somewhat generally known.”
“I suppose.”
Erestor reached into the container again, but found it empty. “I thought you liked Faelion.”
“I do, but I like you more.” Glorfindel immediately blushed. “I mean – well, you and I are really good friends, and he is just... uh...” Glorfindel swallowed hard. “I mean, I would not want him to do anything that would...” He sighed, and said, “Just be careful. Sometimes you say things when you have been drinking that I doubt you want other people knowing.”
The comments both intrigued and worried Erestor. “Exactly what do you mean? What have I said?”
“I... I cannot remember at the moment,” lied Glorfindel. He kept his eyes averted, unable to look directly at Erestor while deceiving him. “Just be careful.” He looked around the room and noted a few items that he had wanted to move or get rid of previous to all of the commotion of the war. Even more, he needed to end the conversation lest he lead it somewhere he did not wish to go. “I think I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon rearranging things in here,” he announced as he stood up.
“Can I help?” asked Erestor as he got to his feet as well.
Glorfindel almost said yes out of habit, but he shook his head. “I get so fussy about things. I have to do this myself.”
“Are you sure? I know,” suggested Erestor. “I can go and get some supper for us while you think about what you want to do. By the time I return, I can help you with things.”
“No, I am not hungry,” lied Glorfindel again. This time, he did manage to glance at Erestor. “I will be fine. I am sure you have things to do.”
In truth, Erestor had many things to do. Everything else seemed rather unimportant compared to spending time with Glorfindel for some reason. He racked his brain for another excuse to stay, but nothing came to him. At the last moment, he said, “What about the horses?”
“What?” Glorfindel blinked. “What about them?”
“You said you had two that were in need of training. You did not want to put it off for long, but you were not feeling up to it. I could take care of that for you,” said Erestor quickly.
Glorfindel’s jaw twitched. Logic told him to push Erestor away, but his heart said otherwise. “That would be nice,” he said carefully. “If I do get hungry, then I can come up and we could have supper together then.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” agreed Erestor with a smile. “I look forward to seeing you later.” He purposely left his violin next to the chair despite knowing it was there; and excuse for another future visit, though he was still slightly unsure of his own motives.
