The next afternoon, Glorfindel walked out onto the balcony, clad in just a towel that was wound loosely around his waist and the clean bandages that the healer had affixed over his nose earlier in the day. The wisps of breeze were blissful with the heat beating down from above. Inside, the air was thick and stuffy, and no amount of fanning off seemed to help. Both he and Erestor had promised Aranel and Tauniel that they would not walk around the balcony or the apartment in the nude (although there were others in the tower and who were, Erestor had argued). Instead, they were taking turns sitting in the tub in the washroom with the lights off and windows open. It was Erestor’s turn, so Glorfindel came outside to try to find some relief.
He contemplated sitting down, but then the space behind his knees and between his legs would get sweaty. Another breeze rushed past, and Glorfindel took hold of the railing and leaned out as far as he dared to catch it. “O, Manwe, do not be so cruel!” Glorfindel sighed and bowed his head as the wind died down again. The ladies of the household had left early and gone into the shaded forest, where most of the ladies and children likely were, either enjoying the cooler shaded areas under the pines, or swimming in the ponds. When it was so hot that it affected the citizens, Turgon restricted certain areas for ellyth and elflings, posting the city’s few female guards to watch over such places, knowing for certain that skirts and bodices would be exchanged for bare skin, and it was the least he could offer to protect their modesty.
When Glorfindel looked up again, a small speck in the sky caught his eye. With barely any breeze, birds had been rare to see. The speck grew slightly larger, and Glorfindel saw that the tiny bird was struggling. There was no time to get to the ground to catch it in case it did not make its destination, so Glorfindel ran to the side of the balcony and held out his hand, his finger lifted like a perch. The thrush beat its tiny wings faster, continuing to struggle. Glorfindel stood on the tips of his toes and stretched his arms out, hands cupped together. As soon as the thrush was close enough, it made to land, but ended up dropping in exhaustion into Glorfindel’s palm.
“I have you, little one.” Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relief and went back into the apartment, losing his towel on the way. “Are you alright?” he asked, taking the bird to the kitchen. He took a teacup and dipped it into the bucket of water on the counter. The bird was yet too weak to stand, so Glorfindel dipped his finger in the water and held the bird upright. The thrush opened his beak and thankfully accepted the droplets offered.
The apartment was dark and quiet, but the gleam of metal somehow caught Glorfindel’s eye, and he carried the bird to the bookshelves once the little fellow had calmed down. “I seem to recall it being over here,” he said, more to himself than to the bird.
“Glorfindel? Who are you talking to?” Erestor’s voice carried through to Glorfindel, and the blond spied the metal rod that Erestor always used to remove the notes from the carrying tube.
For a moment, Glorfindel entertained the thought of looking at the note himself. It was a fleeting thought, and he mentally berated himself for considering such a despicable act. “Message for you from Doriath. I am trying to find the rod you use so that I can bring it to you with your little feathered friend.”
“I will come out. Just a moment,” said Erestor. Glorfindel retracted his hand away from the shelf and sat down with the thrush still in his hand. Erestor emerged with a towel around his waist and gave Glorfindel quite the look. “New fashion statement?” he queried as he walked to the shelf.
Glorfindel looked down at his lap and sheepishly grabbed for a pillow. “Sorry. There was a bit of excitement. Your friend nearly did not make it.” Glorfindel held out the bird as Erestor came by.
“Thank you for aiding him,” said Erestor as he sat down next to Glorfindel. He let the thrush hop onto his hand and extracted the note from the carrying tube. The bird hopped back onto Glorfindel’s arm as Erestor unrolled the note. “Celegorm and Curufin are in Nargothrond.”
“You look worried,” remarked Glorfindel as Erestor stood up with brow furrowed and took the slip of paper to the desk.
“Celegorm and Curufin against Felagund and Orodreth is not something I had hoped to see. Felagund is wise and cunning, but Celegorm and Curufin are dangerous, especially if they still have that dog with them.”
“How is a dog of any consequence?” wondered Glorfindel. The thrush was exploring the couch, hopping from Glorfindel’s arm onto the fabric and back again.
Erestor sighed as he attempted to find the words he wanted to communicate back to Saeros. “It is a really big dog with intelligence far superior to common hounds. Also, it can talk.”
“Oh. Also, it can talk. You say it like a sidenote.”
The desk drawer was opened and then slammed back shut. “It is.”
“Alright, no need to snap at me. I would just think that the fact the dog can talk would be a fairly significant detail. Unless there is something else special about it. Does it dance? Sing? Juggle?”
“Huan once belonged to Oromë,” said Erestor finally. “Oromë gave Huan to Celegorm.”
“Ah ha!” exclaimed Glorfindel, pointing his finger at Erestor in triumph. This startled the thrush, who flew up to the perch on top of the bookshelf.
“What?”
“You are upset that your father gave this magical dog to someone you hate instead of giving the dog to you.”
“Why do I care who he gives his dog to?” muttered Erestor. This was followed moments later by, “I suppose it upsets me a little that—fine, I am mad about it. Damn mad about it! I loved that dog,” Erestor trailed off.
“Sorry. I would offer a hug or something, but the heat might not make that the best idea.”
“I appreciate the thought. If you want to use the tub while I do my writing, you are more than welcome to,” said Erestor.
Glorfindel stood up, keeping the pillow that kept his modesty in front of him as he walked to the balcony to retrieve his towel. “I am going to drench myself, dry off really fast, and take a long nap.”
“That sounds lovely. Might have to join you on that.” Erestor whistled for the thrush as Glorfindel passed by and patted him on the head. “What was that for?”
“That was a ‘still sorry about your dog but still too hot to hug you’ head pat,” explained Glorfindel as he disappeared into the darker part of the suite, determined to build a device to counter the heat just as soon as it was cool enough to think of such things.
---
Despite the heat, the show must go on. The next day found both Erestor and Glorfindel at Salgant’s theatre, which was quickly being put back into shape and was surprisingly cooler than expected. Salgant’s temper, however, was heating up with every mistake that was made.
“Mind your pitch, Erestor! Your words are clear, you are hitting the marks, but in-to-na-tion,” barked Salgant from his favorite spot in his theatre. He was in the upper balcony, keeping a watchful eye on the dancers behind Erestor as well. “Higher with those leg lifts, you there on the end! You look like you are having a spasm instead of dancing.”
Glorfindel was sitting a few chairs away, scribbling down numbers and crossing others out. Opening night was looming, and already they had sold out the boxes and the floor level seating, but in the balconies only a few tickets had been purchased. “We might need to cut the price of the balcony seats by half in order to make a profit.”
“How can you expect to make a profit by lowering the price? You will need to sell twice as many tickets; you need to sell only thirty more to break even,” answered Salgant before calling down to a young actress on stage, “I cannot hear you! Yes, you should sound sweet, like a nightingale, but pretend you are a gigantic nightingale with a loud voice!” To Glorfindel, he added, “What are you going to do, advertise to the peasants?”
“Now that just might work.” Glorfindel started to figure things out again, and nodded. “If we charged a third of the cost for the balconies, not only could we sell them out, but they would be affordable to anyone.”
“Why would you want to make it affordable to everyone? Can you just imagine the type of people you would have crawling around up here if you did that?” Salgant looked utterly appalled as he continued, “Why, they would be scratching themselves in public and spitting on the floors, not to mention they would probably bring their children and reek of goats and other smelly things.”
“I happen to like goats,” Glorfindel told him as he rewrote things on a clean sheet of paper. “I do not know what you care who comes in as long as we make money on this. Breaking even we could do, yes, but it hardly seems worth it for the effort put into fixing things up and getting the show written and running. Not to mention the costumes and the staff... it all adds up rather quickly.”
“And you thought you were going to do all of this on your own.” Salgant gave Glorfindel a haughty look and added, “Silly boy. You are a dreamer, ‘tis true, but sometimes your dreams are much too wild for your own good. Erestor!” Salgant waved his handkerchief to acquire the attention of the chief actor, in case he did not hear the summons. “Come up here; we have something of import to discuss with you.”
Glorfindel sorted through his papers and pulled out the ones he wanted to show to make his point, while Salgant reached down onto a tray that had been placed on one of the seats and lifted up a satin pouch. He folded back the flaps to reveal a handful of roasted almonds and began to snack on them while he awaited Erestor to arrive. The tall ellon had to walk off stage, down the stairs, and all the way to the back of the theatre, then up three flights to reach the upper balcony. “You have a concern over something?”
“Your fiscally frugal friend wishes to procure the peasantry population to bolster the numbers in the balconies.” Salant dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief. “I think the idea is rather shortsighted; it will be extra trouble to control them and to clean up after them.”
“If he wanted to bring sheep or cows up here, then yes, control and maintenance would be an issue. However, I am fairly certain that the peasants you are speaking of are still elves, are they not?” Erestor took a seat in the row behind them, a little closer to Salgant than to Glorfindel. “What harm would there be in making these seats affordable to them? Perhaps it would help to better society, something which you are always speaking of in council.”
“And if something goes wrong? We have already sold a few of the seats up here.”
Erestor shifted a seat closer so that he was almost directly behind Salgant. Placing his hands on the shoulders of the portly fellow, he started to massage his shoulders, working out the tension that this new idea had brought forth. “Do not think of the problems, think of the solutions. This will surely sell out the theatre, and it will increase the amount of people who see the play. The more people who see it, the more people who tell their friends about it, the more potential we have for an audience.”
With jealous eyes, Glorfindel watched Erestor court Salgant’s favor, rubbing his sore muscles and retrieving a fallen almond from the tray for him. Suddenly he grabbed his notes and switched to the seat next to Salgant, shoving the papers between Erestor and Salgant. “As you can see, Erestor, this is an excellent opportunity.”
“Yes, I can see that. It is Salgant who seems unconvinced.” Erestor took the pages from Glorfindel, and while continuing to rub the back of Salgant’s neck with one hand, held the papers down for him to see. “It looks as if Glorfindel has it all figured out.”
“Erestor, I know for a fact that you would have no idea if Glorfindel was showing you the numbers for the theatre or the price of rum.” Salgant took the sheets and looked them over, and nodded at the last. “Alright. We shall try it. When Duilin arrives, I will see if he can pull together a campaign in the valley.”
“Word of mouth and the posters that were discarded due to a few misprinted words will do just fine. There is little reason to spend more money on advertising than we have to, if the idea is to use what we have.” Glorfindel tugged the pages back out of Salgant’s hands. “Thank you, Erestor, I do believe we are done here. You can get back to the stage.”
Erestor gave Glorfindel a surprised look, but stood up, his hands slipping away from Salgant. “Of course. I should really be down there.” He turned, and smiled. “Duilin, it is good to see you. We were actually just talking about you.”
“Were you?” Duilin was giving Salgant the same look Glorfindel had shot at Erestor earlier. “How charming.”
“Glorfindel has a plan to sell the tickets for the balconies to the poorer members of our city at a low enough price for them to afford.” Salgant set down his bag of nuts and dusted off his hands. “What are your thoughts on that?”
“I think we should have done a different play if you had planned to do that, but overall I think the idea has merit.” Duilin walked through the aisle and stood near to Salgant, his back to the stage. “What are you going to sell the tickets at?”
“Glorfindel has the numbers, and this is an idea he just came up with. Next time, we will choose a suitable play for it. If this idea works,” added Salgant as Duilin held out his hand and received the sheets from Glorfindel.
Erestor motioned toward the stage. “I am going to head back down, if that is alright.”
“You probably should. Your understudy is getting a little cocky on stage,” remarked Duilin as he read through each of the pages Glorfindel had written up. Erestor nodded and left the balcony area. As soon as the door closed behind him, Duilin looked over the top of the sheet, glaring at Salgant. “What was that all about?”
“Hmm? Oh, him touching me?”
“What the fuck do you think I was talking about? Yes, darling, his touching you.” Duilin tossed the sheets back in Glorfindel’s general direction with a brief, “Looks in order,” to him before staring at Salgant again. “Well?”
“You should sit down, Duilin, you are obviously worn out.” Salgant patted his knee, but Duilin simply narrowed his eyes more. “He was simply trying to curry my favor. I am not so blind as not to know his tricks. There is little for you to worry about.”
“I should hope so. I will kill him if he has any other intentions other than bending your mind to agree with his ideas. Still, that move was entirely unnecessary. Let him know he should not touch you with such familiarity any more. Ever.” Duilin glanced at Glorfindel and added, “I would expect you will keep what you are hearing confidential.”
“I... I doubt anyone would ever believe me if I tried to tell them what I was hearing,” admitted Glorfindel. He had stopped looking at them and was focusing on the stage, waiting for Erestor to rejoin the rest of the cast. “Besides, who would I tell?”
“Really, Duilin, sit down. Your anger is sweet, but I would much rather have you on my lap.” Salgant waved his hand at Glorfindel, that the other should move, and he did. After this, Duilin did reluctantly take a seat on Salgant’s knee, though he kept his arms crossed and his look contemptuous. “Do not tease about killing Erestor. I have spent far too much money training him to speak without his accent. His understudy is pretty to look at, but his voice grates upon me.”
Glorfindel slid his gaze to the left, taking in the sight of the two lords, Salgant rubbing Duilin’s thigh, his hand moving ever closer to his groin. “Are you not concerned that perhaps you should do that where others will not see you?”
“What others? The actors? The only one on that stage who might say something would be Erestor. The others?” Salgant’s hand slid down, and Duilin slapped it away. “Glorfindel, the only elf in this entire theatre who is not in hiding from the king is the dark haired one singing right now, and he is questionable.”
“Erestor is the gayest straight elf I have ever met,” Duilin mumbled, shaking his head. “Please tell him not to touch you anymore.”
“Done, darling, I will tell him to keep his hands to himself.”
As the curtain was lowered for the second act, Glorfindel could not help but ask, “How long have the two of you been doing this?”
“Since Nevrast,” answered Duilin without hesitating. “Only back then, I was the big one, if you can imagine.” Salgant’s hand wandered again, and was slapped away once more.
“Huh.” Glorfindel concentrated so hard on watching the drawn curtain that Salgant began to laugh. “Did I say something amusing?”
“Did you think you were the only one with the ability to sneak around behind the king’s back? Do not look so surprised, Glorfindel. Many of us knew about you and Gildor. Speaking of, did you change your mind, or is there something going on between you and Erestor?” Salgant laughed harder as Glorfindel’s eyes widened. “Now you amuse without saying a word.”
“There is nothing at all going on between myself and Erestor. I am married, and so is he.”
“Ah.” Duilin smirked. “Is that why the two of you share a bedroom, and in fact, a bed, or is it because you both snore or something and your wives are irritated by this fact.”
“That... that is personal,” floundered Glorfindel. “I mean...”
Salgant smiled, both hands on Duilin’s thighs. “I think we know what you mean.”
“No! Erestor and I...” But Glorfindel could think of no way to explain it without explaining everything, and some things about Aranel and Tauniel he had promised not to share.
The curtain began to rise once more. As soon as the actors and musicians were skillfully focused upon their craft, Glorfindel asked without looking at the pair to his left, “How do you know that Erestor and I share the same bedroom?”
“We can see you from ours.”
Glorfindel mulled this information over, hardly paying any attention to the marks being missed below or the conductor deciding to start the current piece over. “I always assumed that, being that you live in separate houses, you would have separate bedrooms.”
“Technically we do. However, city planning is a marvelous thing. Did you know that there is a tunnel underneath the lesser market?” asked Salgant.
“I am aware of it now,” stated Glorfindel.
“Wonderful thing. It connects Duilin’s bedroom to my very own study.” Salgant smiled at the confusion that was washing over Glorfindel. “I know what you are thinking.”
“Oh really?”
“What you are thinking is easy to see. You are wondering why Duilin and I cast out Egalmoth from our circle of friends. Your belief, and his apparently, was that we did not want to associate with someone who was attracted to those of the same gender. Am I correct?” Salgant waited until Glorfindel nodded to continue. “You see, it is much plainer than that. I did not want to be in the midst of those who are liars. That is why I took issue with some of the things Erestor said and did.”
“Stupid question... should you not be upset with yourself for hiding your true identity?” wondered Glorfindel.
“No. This is a little different. This is a matter of survival. Look down there, Glorfindel. Look at all of the beautiful dancers. I have known many of them since my childhood. When they heard that Turgon was going to lead them to a city of safety, do you know what they thought? They thought what we thought. That we would be safe. That we would not need to hide from people who looked down their noses at us.” Salgant shook his head. “That, we learned very quickly, was far from the truth.”
Duilin slid off of Salgant’s lap, onto the floor in front of him. Almost immediately, Salgant shifted forward and began to rub Duilin’s neck and shoulders. “We came with Turgon because we thought he intended to provide us with a home where we would all be welcome. Then came the rules, which were simple and precise, and made us outlaws. He deceived us first, so there is little reason we should not deceive him.”
“So you are saying that most of the members of your house are of the same mind as you are?” Glorfindel frowned when Salgant shook his head. “Most of them?”
“Some. How many? I do not know. I have a high regard for tolerance in my house, though, Glorfindel. I do not ask them of their private business. I expect that they will not question me of mine.” Salgant shouted further direction to the dancers, and settled back once again, still massaging Duilin’s back. “I cannot stand up against the king for them; he provides us with safety, and a home, and I will not slap him in the face for that. I will, however, protect my people, in whatever ways I can.”
---
The practice did not end until very late into the evening, and Glorfindel and Erestor weaved through the valley in order to post the flyers regarding the discounted balcony seats and at the same time get dinner from one of the street side vendors. Glorfindel steered Erestor clear of the pubs along the way, getting them home in record time. Once safely inside, he revealed the details of his discussion with Salgant and Duilin, making certain that it was clearly understood that the two of them were much more than business partners.
“Sweet Eru, is there anyone in this city who is enamored with the fairer sex?” blurted out Erestor as he went to pour himself a drink.
Aranel raised her hand. “Me, too,” announced Tauniel, giving Aranel a loud kiss on the cheek.
Erestor rolled his eyes and took a crust of bread and a small saucer of water to the thrush, who was still perched atop the bookshelf. “Males enamored with the fairer sex.” He gave the bird a tiny pat with his fingertip before drifting toward the bar.
“That is hardly fair to say, Erestor. Look at Glorfindel. I dare say he is fairer than most females,” stated Tauniel. “Look at that hair, those long lashes. His skin is naturally pale and his cheeks carry just the hint of rose... most ladies would die for that sort of complexion.”
Glorfindel’s cheeks became more than rosy. “Stop that.”
“She has a point,” agreed Aranel. “You should really just give Glorfindel a try, Erestor. It should be easy enough to pretend he is the girl of your dreams. Besides, you already share a bedroom. Just keep the lights off, say nothing to one another, and do not worry about trying to grab anyone’s breasts. In the long run, it will prove pleasant for both of you, and neither of you will ever really have to think about it.” Both ladies started to giggle and twitter, while Glorfindel turned redder, from both embarrassment and anger.
Erestor set the glass he was pouring alcohol into down hard on the counter. “I am going to bed,” he said sternly, and left the room without further discussion, slamming the door of the bedroom behind him.
“He is certainly in a mood tonight,” remarked Aranel.
“We need to tie him up and let Glorfindel have his way with him again,” Tauniel suggested.
Glorfindel shot them an irritated look. “Hush, now, both of you. Can you not see how upset it makes him for you to joke about that? Leave me out of your plans. He is my friend, and I will not have either of you causing him torment.”
Tauniel looked put out. “I thought you wanted—“
“I want you to leave him alone!” Glorfindel walked to the bar and picked up the glass, and then took it to the bedroom. He knocked on the door before entering. “Erestor? I am coming in.” There was no response, so Glorfindel pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dim, and plunged into darkness when the door was closed again. “I brought your drink in.”
“Thank you. I do not think I need it, though.” Erestor’s voice was coming from the bed, and Glorfindel managed to make out his shape sprawled on his back.
The glass was set down on the table, and Glorfindel leaned one hand against the wall and looked down at Erestor. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. I am not going to kick you out. This is your room, too. Besides, it was not you. It was the two of them. Why they do that, I have no idea.”
“Have they done this before?”
“Now and then. I do not think you have been around before, though. I am sure it irks you just as much as it does me.”
“I guess.”
Erestor rubbed his eyes, mumbling to himself. Glorfindel did not catch the words, and opted to change out of his clothes. “We need to be up early tomorrow,” he reminded Erestor.
“I know, I know.” Erestor rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, and watched in the dimness as Glorfindel finished getting ready for bed.
Glorfindel paused as he lifted back the sheet. “Something the matter?”
“No. I was just... thinking about what they were saying.”
An unseen redness crept across Glorfindel’s cheeks. “About turning out the lights and...”
“No,” said Erestor gently, obviously wanting to keep his earlier anger under control. “They are right about you, though. I have known a lot of Elves in my life, male and female, and until I met you, I would have had a hard time naming the fairest.”
With a shy look directed toward the floor, Glorfindel crawled into bed and pulled up the sheet. By the time he worked up the courage to look at Erestor and offer his thanks for what was surely an idle compliment, Glorfindel saw even in the darkness that Erestor’s eyelids were closed and his breathing was steady. Leaning carefully over Erestor, Glorfindel hovered above the elder elf, watching the slow intake of air and the flawless features that Glorfindel had become so enamored with. “I think you are very beautiful, too,” whispered Glorfindel, thinking Erestor to be asleep.
To Glorfindel’s surprise, one brown eye suddenly opened and looked up at him. “Go to sleep, Glorfindel.”
Glorfindel scrambled back to his spot, eyes wide and heart thumping in his chest. He hugged the sheet up to his chest, almost shaking until he heard Erestor’s final words on the matter.
“Good night, fair Findel. Now, go to sleep.”
With a grin plastered on his face, Glorfindel had no need for counting sheep or other barnyard animals as he dozed off, happily dreaming of an Elf he had once accepted as impossible who no longer seemed quite so unattainable. He could hardly know that merely a breath away with a smile of his own, that same Elf dreamed of him.
