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It had been dark a long while by the time they arrived back home again. Erestor opened the door to find a group of ladies assembled in the sitting room, which had been drastically rearranged. Instead of the couches and chairs comfortably distributed, a large table was in the center of the room and many chairs were situated around it. Some of the ellyth chattering away were sitting and fletching and others were either tending to the children they had brought along or making food in the kitchen. Feathers and wooden shafts were scattered about, and three full barrels of arrows were standing at the door, with another half-full near to the table.

“Erestor, darling, father wants to see you in his apartment,” shouted Aranel over the din. “He said you should bring Glorfindel with him.”

Despite being exhausted from the events of the day, Erestor nodded and backed out of the doorway. “Aranel says—“

“I heard her.” Glorfindel was already walking down the hall, and Erestor rushed to catch up to him.

“Are you going to keep up this attitude all night? I have no idea why you are even upset with me.” Erestor hurried down a few steps, and then blocked Glorfindel’s path. “Tell me what I did, or I am not going to let you past.”

“Then I will just take the other stairway.”

Erestor glared, and Glorfindel glared back. “Glorfindel, will you please tell me what I did?”

“I would rather not discuss it.” He tried to step around Erestor, but was blocked again. “Fine, you want to know what you did? You tried to coerce me in public. Twice!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Up on the balcony, you could not let me handle it the way I wanted to. You had to make me feel like I had to do what you wanted me to do because it would ruin your plans. Then, you drag me into... that place... and with all those people sitting there, you try to get me to give up the one thing, the only thing, that I can really take any pride and enjoyment in!” By now, Glorfindel was slightly red in the face and pacing back and forth on the step. “This is not the first time, either. You do this constantly! You make my decisions for me! I know I am young, and I know you are older and wiser and are trying to help, but will you please, for the love of Eru, let me make a few of my own decisions?!”

“I am sorry. I did not know that was how you felt.” Erestor stepped aside to allow Glorfindel to pass. “I did not mean to be so persistent on the balcony. In the midst of all that was going on, I was caught up in it. I apologize. As for your hair, I was not trying to persuade you, I was just making a suggestion. I do not want to see you get hurt because of it.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I will be fine.” Glorfindel sighed. “Sorry. I guess the stress of the upcoming march and battle is getting to me.”

“It is getting to all of us.” Erestor patted Glorfindel’s shoulder. “Let us see what Rog wants, and then I think I am going to take a nap.”

“A nap sounds like a really good idea,” agreed Glorfindel. They went down a few flights to the fifth floor. Rog’s apartment was on the other side of the tower and it was one of the smaller ones, for Rog and Meleth normally lived in their own house and not in the suite that they had been granted in the king’s tower. Glorfindel knocked on the door, which was almost immediately opened by Meleth.

“Oh, good, there you are. You just missed Galdor and Ecthelion.” Meleth led the pair at the door through the narrow hallway and into the multifunction room which served as a kitchen, dining room, and sitting room. There was one other room for sleeping, with a curtained bathroom and a small storage space under a built-in counter where the washbasin was placed.

Rog was sitting at the table in the main room, where he had lists drawn up of things which the various houses would need. He did not look up, but acknowledged the pair by demanding information. “Glorfindel, I need a list of what you will require for your house for this war.”

“I have adequate stores to supply my soldiers, save for arrows, which are being made as we speak.”

“War takes extra preparation,” explained Rog, as patiently as he could. “There are items you will need that I doubt you have.”

Glorfindel bristled. “I am quite prepared, Rog. I know how to take care of my own army.”

“Erestor, what does he need?”

“Spears. Enough for three hundred riders. We have shields and armor, chainmail, all of that. Swords are not an issue, either. I need to speak to Galdor about bows. We should have extras in case any break.”

“Spears? My soldiers do not even know how to fight with spears,” argued Glorfindel.

“Then teach them. You have two weeks,” said Rog sharply. He chose to look up, first at Glorfindel, then to Erestor for a moment, and back. He stared without saying anything, rubbed his chin, and shook his head. As he looked back down at his paper, he said, “First thing tomorrow, go down to Oronion’s and have him cut your hair. You need something sensible for the battlefield, such as Erestor or Ecthelion.”

“I intend to do no such thing. In fact, I am staying as far from Oronion’s as possible.”

“Fine. Meleth can do it for you,” said Rog, waving absently to where his wife was trying to stay quiet and unnoticeable, making tea.

Glorfindel stopped Meleth from giving her answer. “Thank you for the offer, but it is unnecessary. That is to say, I am not cutting my hair.”

“Then you are a greater fool than I originally thought.” Rog focused on his planning again, accepting a cup of tea when it was brought to him.

Meleth dutifully offered Erestor a cup as well, and when it was declined, brought it to Glorfindel. “I know you think he means I should cut it the same way they have theirs, but I could just trim it down, leave some length on it for you. I have seen many soldiers who leave it to their shoulders and they are fine. We just want to make sure you will be safe.”

“No one is safe in a war,” said Glorfindel solemnly.

“You are right about that,” admitted Rog from the table, “but there are certain things which you have control of. Perhaps you think this is all your decision, but remember, you are responsible for everyone who follows you into that battle. Part of that responsibility is an assurance that you will not be killed in the first five minutes of the war because of something as stupid as your vanity.” Rog pointed to his gleaming, bald head. “You think it all fell out? You think I was born like this?”

“Darling, you were born like that,” mumbled Meleth as she took the cup of refused tea back to the counter.

Rog paused, but only for a moment. “The point is, I would be far more handsome than I already am if I still had a full head of flowing red hair. But I sacrificed that for the ones who make sacrifices for me.”

There was silence, but then Meleth shook her head. “At least be honest with him, Rog.” She looked at Glorfindel and said, “He used to keep it short, to his shoulders, but he still had hair for a long while, back in Nevrast where we met. One day the blacksmith he was apprenticing with was concentrating far too much on his work and far too little on his own wellbeing. One of his braids caught fire, and I will spare the details, but I am sure you can determine what happened next. Ever since then, ever since taking over the forge, Rog has had me shave his head, every other day.”

“She does a good job, too, only ever nicked me once,” said Rog.

“That was your fault for turning your head when I told you to hold still.”

“Yes, dear.”

A smile played on Erestor’s lips, but Glorfindel remained as impassive as ever. “Thank you for your concern. I will be fine.”

“Meleth, perhaps you should go and see if our daughter needs any help making those arrows,” suggested Rog.

Setting down the teakettle she was about to clean, Meleth nodded. “I am certain they could use an extra pair of hands.”

As soon as Meleth had left, Rog looked up at Glorfindel sternly. “Glorfindel, you have to get your hair cut.”

“No. Not going to.”

“Glorfindel, you are a fucking idiot.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Rog grunted under his breath, and looked to Erestor. “Is he always like this?”

“No, not really. But when he is, I know enough not to push him. He bites.”

“I do not,” growled Glorfindel.

“Alright, perhaps not, but I worry you might.”

There was a knock on the door, and Rog waved his hand for them to leave. “Go home and rest. Tomorrow will be a harder day than today was. Maybe you will wake up with some commonsense, Glorfindel. Please let Ecthelion in on your way out.”

As Glorfindel and Erestor walked to the door, Glorfindel asked, “How is he so sure it is Ecthelion?” The door was opened, and Ecthelion nodded solemnly to them before stepping around to greet Rog. Erestor shrugged and exited the small apartment.

Glorfindel stepped outside as well, but as he was closing the door, someone pulled on the knob from the inside. He let go, and was faced with Ecthelion. “Rog just told me what a dumb ass you are being.”

“Oh, not you, too.” Glorfindel headed down the hallway, ignoring Ecthelion’s speech on the hazards of long hair on the battlefield. “I would love to hear more,” shouted the blond as he reached the stairway, “but I really must be going.”

“Glorfindel! I am warning you…” But the rest of the warning fell upon deaf ears, with Glorfindel taking the steps two at a time until he made it three flights up and far enough away not to hear Ecthelion.

“You are really adamant about this golden treasure of yours,” said Erestor, tugging on one of Glorfindel’s errant curls.

The warrior pulled the tress away from Erestor. “No handling of the hair. Anyone touches it from now until we return, I give fair warning that they are liable to be injured.”

Erestor raised his hands in the air in a position of surrender. “I will keep my hands off. Although, if you really are planning to go into battle like that, you are going to have to accept that you are going to have it whipping in your face and into others, hindering whoever is fighting beside you.”

For a moment, Glorfindel slowed his steps, considering Erestor’s words. Then, he shook a finger at him. “Stop that. None of your ‘what about this’ and ‘what about that’ philosophies.”

“I was just stating facts.” Erestor kept silent the rest of the journey to their apartment. When they entered again, they found an even larger crowd of ladies gathered. “Good evening, darling, I see you have acquired more helpers.” After walking around the table to kiss his wife in thanks, Erestor addressed the entire group. “I thank you all kindly for your assistance and sacrifice this evening.”

Many of them smiled and said things such as ‘anytime, m’lord’, and ‘we are with Gondolin to the end’. Glorfindel offered similar thanks, and even those who had continued to work through Erestor’s words now paused and bowed their heads or told him how honored they were to be part of the war effort. Some of the children were asleep on the couches that had been pushed back, but a few of the older ones were being shown how to affix the feathers to the shafts of the arrows.

“I think I am going to take a nap,” said Glorfindel to Tauniel. She nodded and stood, and beckoned him over. They hugged and kissed, keeping up appearances to those present, before he wandered into the bedroom.

Erestor squeezed Aranel’s hand and said, “I think I might lie down for a while as well.” He began to walk in the direction of the room that Glorfindel had gone, but the fact that he could not disappear into the same room as Glorfindel in front of the company made him turn around and say, “I need to consult with Glorfindel for a few minutes. Would you mind fixing me a drink?”

“What would you like? Brandy?”

“That would be fine. Thank you.” Erestor smiled, and then casually walked to the door, knocking on it as an afterthought.

A puzzled Glorfindel peeked past the door and gave Erestor an odd look, but opened the door wider. “Why did you knock?” he asked after Erestor had entered and closed the door.

“Shh... the ladies out there. The last thing we need to have circulated is that you and I are sharing a bed,” he whispered. “I am going to go across and sleep in the girls’ room tonight, or at least until the others leave.”

“Good idea,” answered Glorfindel with a nod. He watched Erestor gather up a few items and place them into a small sack. “See you tomorrow.”

Erestor tied the sack off and set it aside. “Where is your hairbrush?”

Glorfindel gave him a wary look.

“Trust me, Glorfindel. Where is your brush?”

Hesitantly, Glorfindel pulled it out of the top drawer of his dresser. “Here.”

“Sit down on the chair over there.”

After checking around to make sure that he did not see any scissors anywhere, Glorfindel sat down. Erestor walked up behind him and unbraided the thin plaits that kept the hair at either side out of Glorfindel’s face, and then started to brush out the snarls that worked their way in throughout the day. “How were you planning to keep it up when we go fight Fingon’s war?”

The repetitive motion and the bristles massaging his scalp were making it hard for Glorfindel to come up with a good plan. “I... whatever. I think like I just had it.”

“That is no good at all. Let me try something.” Erestor set the brush aside and gathered up the hair on one side and started to carefully braid it. Instead of making a normal, flat herringbone plait, he was weaving something more rounded and ropelike. “When I was with Artanis,” he said in a very soft voice as he reminisced, “she wore her hair up most of the time. I never saw it down, except after her baths when I would braid it for her.”

Erestor continued his work, pulling hair up from the back and the other side as he worked his way around. Eventually he had woven and wound it all the way around Glorfindel’s head, and with practiced fingers, tucked the ends into the first crossovers. “Now, I really should have thought of this for myself, but on the other hand I doubt I would have the discipline to keep mine braided the entire time. Come and take a look.”

Glorfindel walked to the mirror, reaching his hand around to feel the back of his neck, which was oddly exposed. His reflection showed an elf with what looked like a golden crown perched on the top of his head. “You put all of that up there?” he asked with slight skepticism.

“I promise when you take it down in the morning you will find it is all still intact. Try sleeping on it tonight, and see if you could get used to that. It will be a long march and there will not be many opportunities to redo it, but I think it would suffice.” Erestor picked up his bag from the door as he heard Aranel knock and declare that she had his drink ready for him. “Good night, Glorfindel. Sleep well,” he added as he left the room.
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