When the trio came back into the suite it seemed empty. Only a few candles were still lit, and it appeared that perhaps Tauniel and Aranel had turned in when Rog and Meleth left. Faelion locked the door that led out to the balcony, and when he entered a little further in, he discovered that they were not alone. Tauniel and Aranel were snuggled together on the couch, cuddling silently. “We must be parent-free if you are being so un-subtle,” remarked Faelion as he plopped down on the couch near their feet. “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”
“Faelion, get off,” hissed Aranel, and she gave him a little shove with her foot. Faelion laughed and dared to tickle her foot before he scrambled away from the kick he would have otherwise received.
“I thought we were all family,” he argued before he leaned over and blew into Aranel’s ear. She growled and shoved him away while he continued to laugh. “Oh, come on.”
“Go. Go away, you miscreant.” Aranel shooed him off. “All of you. Goodbye. Go find something else to do.”
“Something else? Just where are we supposed to go?” Erestor motioned around the room. “We sort of live here, too.”
“No. You live here, and Glorfindel lives here, but your little friend over there does not.” Aranel quieted as Tauniel peppered her head with kisses. “If he is with you, then you, as a group, must find something else to do and somewhere else to go.”
“You came to get me because you said there was going to be conversation and drinking and a game,” Faelion reminded Aranel. “I would not have been roused from my uncle’s party if I thought it was going to end with ‘Fae, go home’.”
“Fae, go home.” This command did not come from Aranel.
Faelion huffed and shook his head. “Thanks a lot, Tauniel.”
“Why should we have to go anywhere? You should get a room,” suggested Erestor.
“You should get a room,” countered Tauniel.
“For what?” Erestor laughed. “I think those two are going to go get a room.” He nodded to Glorfindel and Faelion, and Glorfindel blushed. “It seems to me I am going to be the one without a bed tonight. I think I might go see if that party at Salgant’s house is still in progress. Maybe I can sleep there.”
“No, no, no, Findekano,” whined Faelion. He wrapped his arms around Erestor’s left one and pulled at him so that they almost toppled down together. “You cannot leave me! Look what happened last time!” He lifted up his arm. It looked to be devoid of his hand, for he had pulled it into his sleeve.
“This is amazing,” said Erestor as he took hold of Faelion’s left wrist and examined it. “I always thought it was the right hand—“ He laughed as Faelion yanked his arm away, turned around and turned back to show that he was now without a right hand. “Well, I have to HAND it to you, that is a pretty interesting trick.”
“Oh, no, stop, not again,” pleaded Faelion. “Not the hand jokes.”
“That must be pretty HANDY when you want to freak out your brothers.”
“Stop.” Faelion slapped at Erestor with the floppy cuff of his sleeve. “He does this every day now. So disrespectful.”
“I bet you could—oh, no, wait, that is a foot joke. I have to save that one for the scene with Fingolfin. Well, I suppose I could—“
“Alright, stop. Just stop.” Aranel untangled herself from Tauniel and stood up. “What will it take for me to put you in a room other than this one for the rest of the night? One bottle of wine? Two bottles? Bottle of wine and a blowjob?”
Now Erestor turned crimson and Faelion widened his eyes as he pulled his arm through his sleeve. “You can be bribed with blowjobs? Clearly I have been trying the wrong tactic,” he decided as he began to kneel down. Erestor swatted Faelion’s hands away as the younger Elf tried to get hold of his belt. “Oh, come now, Findekano, no need to be modest!”
Erestor walked to the bar and turned one of the glasses upright. His cheeks were red, more in anger than in embarrassment. There was a bottle near to his hand and he picked it up and poured the contents of it into the glass without looking at what it was. “Alright, I think, for now, we do not need to keep roleplaying.”
“Alright.” Faelion stood up again and put an arm around Glorfindel. “Do we want to go to the great hall or do we need to go somewhere closer for you?”
“I really prefer not to go all the way down the stairs if we are going to have to come all the way back up again.” Glorfindel looked across the room to Erestor. “Maybe...” He looked then to Tauniel, still on the couch. “I know you really want to be on the couch, but do you think that tonight it would be—“
Tauniel nodded with complete understanding. “Absolutely. Aranel, I think we should go to our room.”
“Which one is our room?” wondered Aranel as Tauniel stood up and took hold of Aranel’s hand.
Tauniel lifted Aranel’s fingers to her lips and brought her to the door of the bedroom that Aranel and Erestor normally shared. “Oh, Erestor,” she crooned.
“Hmm?” Erestor swirled the liquid in his cup and then gave a sideways look at Tauniel. “Do I hear an invitation?”
“Mmhmm. The more the merrier, just like old times.” Tauniel curled a finger at him, but Aranel pushed Tauniel’s hand down.
Aranel opened the door of the room. “Sorry. Private party,” she said curtly, and the door was shut after the pair disappeared within. The snick of the lock was heard only a moment before Erestor set down his glass and refilled it to the brim.
“You can stay with us,” offered Faelion. He sauntered up to Erestor and danced his fingertips across his shoulder. “Nice warm bed, lots of cuddling, and maybe even a little something extra.”
Erestor looked just about to walk out of the suite, but Faelion had grown not only taller, but stronger as well. He had an arm around Erestor’s waist now and somehow had managed to get ahold of Erestor’s drink. He took a sip, and then offered it back to Erestor, still holding it while Erestor drank again.
“Now, Erestor,” said Faelion smoothly as he deposited the glass back into the older Elf’s grasp, “you know that we were directed to go over our lines for tomorrow for the scene where Fingon and Maedhros profess their love for each other. Going over our lines... I do think we had some stage directions to get through as well. You do not want a repeat from the last rehearsal where it seemed like we were pretending to be brothers instead of lovers. It would seem the best way to do that would be in the presence of two such fellows that know how to act like a pair of lovers.” Faelion picked up the bottle before he walked Erestor back to Glorfindel. “We could go over things now, and that would give us the morning free. As long as we are quiet, we stand less of a chance of waking the children than Aranel and Tauniel do. How long has it been since you have had a free day or been able to sleep in, Erestor?”
Erestor sighed and took another drink from his glass before he handed it off to Faelion. “Let me get the script.”
* * *
They practiced for several hours, first in the large open room, where they moved the table and chairs out of the way to have a makeshift stage. Glorfindel sat on the couch with the script and corrected their lines. More often than not, it was Erestor who would forget something or adlib it in hopes Glorfindel did not notice. He moved onto a second bottle of liquor, and the words became more jumbled when he forgot them.
When they reached a scene that required the use of a bed, they relocated to the room that Glorfindel usually shared with Tauniel. It was a dire scene, and in between the hand and arm jokes that were becoming increasingly annoying to Faelion and Glorfindel, Erestor managed to get most of his lines right. This was likely because most of the dialogue was from Faelion, and what was not was read by Glorfindel in lieu of them having the actors who were playing Maglor and Celegorm present.
It was when Erestor left to get a third bottle of wine that Glorfindel suggested a break. It was past midnight, for the town crier had already been heard long before. Faelion got out of the bed and took himself to a mirror to fuss with his hair.
The door was closed quietly as Erestor entered the room again, but this time he locked it. He had already been drinking straight from the bottle, but he did so again before he asked, “D’you think if I told Turgon he would even b’lieve me?”
Glorfindel and Faelion exchanged looks before Glorfindel asked, “Tell him what?”
Erestor licked his lips and took another drink as he sauntered forward. “Y’rsweet,” was all he replied as he touched Glorfindel’s face before he moved on. He stopped next to Faelion at the mirror, and drank again. Erestor turned his head to study the real Faelion, not the reflection, and swallowed audibly. “Y’know I mus’be the bes’tactor in thi’sole realm.” He motioned with one arm to the side before he drank again.
“Oh? And why is that?” Faelion turned his head to look at Erestor, but his answer was not given verbally. Instead, Erestor used his free hand to grasp the back of Faelion’s neck and he pulled him close while stretching upwards. They kissed, with Faelion’s eyes wide open and Erestor pouring out his emotions and desires so clearly that Glorfindel just knew, just sensed it from across the room. The blond felt lightheaded and watched both in astonishment and anticipation. Erestor was kissing Faelion, not the other way around, and not the way that they always practiced it and pretended. It was real and it was the most sensuous thing that Glorfindel had ever witnessed.
