Beyond Canon
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“What happened?”

Glorfindel closed the door behind him with his elbow, his hands still caked with blood. He shook his head as he pulled off his boots and dumped them at the entrance. When he left, he had neglected a tunice or shirt, so his chest was bloodied as well, and Tauniel began to check him for wounds while Aranel, pale and distressed, sat down on the sofa and fanned herself.

“None of the blood is my own,” assured Glorfindel as he walked away from Tauniel and went to the counter that Erestor poured his nightly drinks at. Glorfindel selected the darkest of the amber liquids and poured himself a half glass. He drank it like water, and coughed when he finished.

“Here; come to the kitchen and let me clean this up,” insisted Tauniel as she gently took the glass from her husband. He followed without fuss to the adjoining room, where she used a dishrag to wipe the splatter from his chest and shoulder, and then instructed him to wash his hands while she retrieved a round tin from one of the higher shelves. She lifted the cover and then a sheet of parchment and handed him a thin, round sort of biscuit. “Eat this. It will help soak up the alcohol. You cannot risk being inebriated opening night.”

A shrug was all he offered in thanks before taking the travel bread with him into the sitting room. He cracked it in half, and from first nibble knew it was stale, but it would serve its purpose all the same. It was just as well; he hardly felt like eating, but he had to have something and the wafer was bland and light, but was worth an entire day’s meals.

Erestor chose that moment for his arrival, exiting their shared room and dressed in loose clothing, obviously meaning to relax before the grand event that evening. He glanced at the ladies, and then took a deep breath at made his way to Glorfindel, sitting down beside him. “I take it things did not go so well.”

A piece of the dry bread crumbled and fell as dust onto the floor as the wafer was broken in half. Glorfindel explained the circumstances and the outcome as briefly as possible. Tinier and tinier pieces were broken off, and Glorfindel ate these little bits while staring towards the window, avoiding all eye contact since he had arrived. “It was a lot harder than I thought.”

“It always is,” agreed Erestor, but Glorfindel shook his head.

“I never killed anything before. I know I had to, she was in so much pain, but I... I never thought I would really have to.”

“You have gone hunting before, though,” said Erestor. “I know it is far harder when the animal is your own, but I myself have felt no less remorse shooting a deer than I do when I ease a horse with his or her misery.”

The last morsel of bread was eaten before Glorfindel revealed, “I go to the market and I buy whatever it is I need. I never go hunting.”

“But, we have gone hunting together,” argued Erestor. “There were a number of times, especially when we were searching for Aredhel, and—“ Erestor paused. “And you stood back. It was always Gildor or myself who made the kill.”

Glorfindel nodded, still unable to look at Erestor, choosing to focus now on the empty chair at the desk. “My father once forced me to kill a doe, so I suppose I should take some responsibility there. However, this was the first time it was my hand willingly on the knife.”

In a comforting gesture, Erestor put his arm around Glorfindel and pulled him a little closer. “As soon as this play is over, I am going to request a break from the playhouse and from training and you and I are going to spend a week in the woods behind the stables.”

Thankful for the friendly hug, Glorfindel shamelessly snuggled against Erestor, his head resting on Erestor’s shoulder. “You are probably going to make me go shoot something.”

“We are going to reverse the damage your father did and the negative feelings you have about hunting. You eat meat, and you should know how to catch and prepare it yourself instead of relying on someone else to do that part. It does not mean you should always hunt for everything, but if you are going to eat it you should know how it gets from the forest to your plate. We might have to start with fishing; I am far better at that than I am tracking creature that can run away.”

Glorfindel squirmed slightly, but nodded his head against Erestor. He hated the idea of killing anything, but Erestor’s explanation was sound and logical, and it meant time spent alone with him. Time alone with Erestor was going to be rare to nonexistent in the coming months, especially if the play was a success. With this thought, Glorfindel melted into the moment, enjoying the rare closeness to Erestor until time brought with it reality and forced each of them to tend to certain tasks before the evening arrived.

---

There was hardly a reason to worry about the play, Glorfindel learned hours later. Laughter erupted exactly when it should, and cheers at all the right places. A chase scene brought forth the only error – water from the previous act had not been cleaned up, and Erestor slid on the unseen obstacle. His flailing of his arms and stumbles to keep himself upright only added to the comedy of it, and as Salgant wiped mirthful tears from his eyes, he said to Glorfindel through the din of the theatre, “I wonder if we can plan that for every show!”

Now standing in the receiving line between Salgant and Duilin, Glorfindel had a grin permanently plastered on his face. The compliments rained down so fast as the audience passed them on their way out of the theatre that the lobby was virtually flooded before the balcony even began to empty. Lines had formed at the ticket booths, and an usher had been snagged to mark off shows as sold out as the number of reservations increased.

Duilin glanced down to the other end of the line, where four of the five principle players were busily signing autographs, hugging fans, shaking hands, and accepting bouquets and other small gifts, as well as making apologies for the missing cast member. During a very short lull, Duilin nudged Glorfindel and whispered through his teeth, “Where is your boyfriend hiding?”

“He is not my...” Glorfindel looked around and frowned. “He should be here.”

“Mmmhmm.” Duilin gently pushed Glorfindel out of the line and said, “Go find him before we have a riot.”

The first place Glorfindel headed was back through the backstage area and into the hidden corridors that lead to the dressing rooms. He knocked on the door of Erestor’s dressing room when he reached it, and pushed it open to find a pair of ellin – neither of whom was Erestor – engaged in something more than acting. “Beg pardon,” muttered Glorfindel as he shut the door hastily and continued to search the rooms. An usher directed him to the rear doors, saying that Erestor had left with a petite elleth with dark hair soon after the play ended.

“Ah, yes, his wife,” said Glorfindel with a nod.

The usher furrowed his brow. “She did not look like his wife. Then again, it is dark back here.”

Glorfindel paused, shook the thought from his head, and climbed the stairs that took him to the exit. The streets were dark, for a heavy fog had set in that hindered the hanging street lanterns from doing their duty. It made it difficult to make out who was who of those walking down the misty paths.

Just as Glorfindel was about to walk the perimeter to search for Erestor, he spied a couple standing beneath one of the street lights. Even in the darkness, there was something quite familiar about the ellon, and Glorfindel took a step back into the shadows as he recognized that it was Erestor, standing beside a lady he had never seen before.

Perhaps Glorfindel was not aware of who she was, but obviously Erestor was acquainted. The elleth placed her hand on his chest as she whispered something to him, and he casually put his arm around her shoulder. As Glorfindel looked on, Erestor took the lady into his arms and held her close as she sobbed against him. The first emotion Glorfindel felt was anxiety, and he looked this way and that to be sure no one else was on this part of the street. Second, he was hit was such jealousy and anger that he felt his fists clenching on their own accord as he glared, unseen, at the pair.

Erestor whispered words of comfort as he rubbed the elleth’s back. They embraced again as she calmed, but did not let go for what Glorfindel considered an unreasonable amount of time. Eventually, Erestor straightened himself up. They shared a lingering smile, and then the lady drew the hood of her cloak up over her head and hurried away into the night. Erestor leaned against the light post and gave a sigh. He closed his eyes after she disappeared from sight and smiled to himself.

“Is that what you have been doing instead of coming home at night?” Glorfindel’s voice cut crisply through the night.

Erestor turned abruptly, blinking in an attempt to make out Glorfindel from the shadows. The blond stepped forward, a hard and sour look on his face. Erestor sucked in his breath. “Let me explain,” he began, but Glorfindel cut him off immediately.

“I hardly think you need to. I am not blind, though I almost wish I was. Duilin wants you inside. You have been keeping most of your admirers waiting, although I am certain he will understand when he finds out you were taking good care of one of them.”

“Glorfindel,” attempted Erestor again, but Glorfindel was already on his way toward the front entrance. “Glorfindel, it is not what it looks like!” shouted Erestor, sounding more like he did when barking orders on the field than he normally did at home.

With a dramatic pause, Glorfindel gave Erestor and icy look over his shoulder. “You can explain just what that was when we get home. I am sure your WIFE will want to hear what you have to say about this. Right now, I expect you to return to the lobby, where, as I said, your arrival has been anticipated.”

Erestor shook his head and rolled his eyes but complied without further argument. They both arrived back in the lobby at approximately the same time, though Erestor made sure to keep himself just a few steps behind Glorfindel and not to address his friend directly. There was indeed a small crowd awaiting the star actor’s arrival, and for the next hour Glorfindel nearly forgot about the incident outside as he was introduced to various theatre critics and donors by Salgant, while Duilin kept the line moving and the actors corralled.

“There is a cast party at Salgant’s house. You are invited, of course, if you want to come,” said Duilin to Glorfindel as they locked the front doors after the last of the audience members had left. Duilin looked over his shoulder at Erestor and added, “Both of you, that is.”

Instead of answering, Erestor looked at Glorfindel, who glared hard and then said, “Thank you, but we need to get home. It is late.”

“I am certain your ‘wives’ would not mind if you were out another hour,” said Duilin, having missed Glorfindel’s expression.

“Thank you, but it is late.”

Erestor cleared his throat and said with some amount of uncertainty, “Perhaps we should go. Just for a little while, so as not to be rude.”

Glorfindel sat down in one of the large, plush chairs of the lobby and leaned back in it, his arms stretched over the arms of the chair. “Do you need to change before we go home?” he asked, stressing the last word.

“I probably should,” answered Erestor meekly before taking a step in the direction of the doors that would lead to the backstage area.

“You have five minutes, and then I shall come after you. It would behoove you NOT to have me come after you.”

Erestor considered Glorfindel’s threat for a moment, but merely nodded. He jogged to the doors and disappeared past them.

“Well then.” Duilin sat down next to Glorfindel, perching himself on the edge of the chair. “I suppose I will not be seeing you or your boyfriend at the party.”

Duilin found himself on the receiving end of a very defiant stare. “He is not my boyfriend.”

“Alright, fine, whatever you say,” answered Duilin, though clearly from his tone of voice and smirk, he hardly believed this. “Whatever he is to you, he certainly did or said something to offend you enough to focus all sorts of anger on him.”

“Mmm.” Glorfindel dropped the gaze, focusing a softer look on the doors in anticipation of Erestor coming back.

Duilin nudged Glorfindel’s elbow. “So?”

“What?”

“What did he do? One minute you were sunshine and happiness, and the next you come back and look like you want to tear off his head and piss down his throat.”

Glorfindel ran his hands through his hair and stared up at the ceiling. “I have no idea.”

With a dignified chuckle, Duilin repeated, “You have no idea? You have no idea what he did, or you have no idea why you are so upset?”

“Either... both,” admitted Glorfindel in a tired voice.

“Are you positively certain the two of you are not a couple?” asked Duilin, continuing to laugh as Erestor emerged from the backstage area. “Good luck, Lord Glorfindel, though I cannot say I am certain what I am sending you well wishes for!” To Erestor, Duilin simply said good night before wandering away to usher home any stray performers or workers still in the theatre.
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