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That night, and the next, were difficult ones for Glorfindel, who seemed to finally fall asleep just as dawn was breaking. He was very interested in what Tauniel’s plan was, however, he was also very interested in getting some actual sleep. As they were about to retire for the evening she bade him to stay in the sitting room a minute more. He did so nervously, and when he did finally come into the bedroom, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Shut the door,” came the voice from the closet. He did so quickly. “Blow out the candles and sit down on the bed.” Again, Glorfindel followed the instructions he was given. The knob on the closet turned, and the door opened slowly. Glorfindel held his breath as Tauniel stepped out, a long, plain nightshirt hiding the curves of her body. Her blond, honey locks were covered by a thick, dark wig. “You should be undressed,” she said, lowering her voice. Her mimic of Erestor’s Valinorin accent made him shudder, and she smiled. “You like?” asked a higher pitched, hopeful voice.

“Like? No, not like…” Glorfindel reached for her wrist and yanked her to him. “Speak to me more like that.”

“Take off these clothes,” she huskily replied. Glorfindel stripped in record time. “Make yourself comfortable. I will be back, as soon as I get the oil.”

“Oil?” squeaked Glorfindel.

Tauniel tilted her head to the side. “I thought you said your fantasy was for him to take you.”

“Well, it is... and stop switching your voice back and forth, it confuses my sleep-deprived mind,” complained the blond as he rested his head on the pillows and tried to relax.

“Sorry.” When Tauniel came back, she had a bottle in one hand, which she placed on the nightstand. As she crawled onto the bed, she bent her head and kissed Glorfindel. He closed his eyes and his heart raced as she slid her tongue into his mouth. “Last comment as myself,” Tauniel whispered quickly as they parted for air. “According to Aranel, Erestor likes to do this.” Tauniel bent down again and inserted her tongue between Glorfindel’s parted lips, then curled it up and ran it along the roof of Glorfindel’s mouth. The sensation made him shudder. “Again?” offered Tauniel in the deeper voice she had adopted. Glorfindel nodded weakly.

He would never recall quite how they made it from that to having him on his hands and knees, but soon his thighs were being massaged by one of Tauniel’s hands while she rubbed oil between the fingers of her other. “Have you ever had your prostrate stroked?”

“Uh... uhmm… what... where is that? Wait... I think so?” Glorfindel had been fairly incoherent since the kissing began, and doubted he could think much clearer with the sensations he was feeling.

“You think so? Hmm.” Tauniel picked up the bottle and poured some over Glorfindel’s back, spilling it down his backside. The oil was tossed aside, and she placed her index finger against his cleft, sliding down until she found what she was looking for. As she pressed against it, Glorfindel, not quite expecting what he felt, sucked in his breath, unintentionally pulling her finger in more than halfway.

“Oh! Oh… Oh… Oh…!”

“Shhh! Just stay calm, and keep breathing!” Tauniel cleared her throat, and deepened her voice again. “Glorfindel, love, relax... be calm, enjoy, and imagine that is me within you.”

A fleeting thought of ‘but, that IS you within me’ flashed through Glorfindel’s mind before something shot through him that shut off everything else. It was something so indescribable, he simply let it take over and let himself go. When Gildor had breached him in the past, he had never gone in so far. Glorfindel’s body began to spasm, and he came uncontrollably. He dropped onto his side and rolled onto his back while Tauniel pulled the messed sheet from the bed.

Tauniel returned and cleaned off Glorfindel’s belly with a warm, wet rag, and discarded it and the wig in the laundry basket at the door. “Did you like that?”

“You have to ask?” Glorfindel continued to pant, his chest aching for air. “I think you nearly killed me!” he half-joked.

As she snuggled against, him, Tauniel smiled and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. “So, the next time we do that, would you mind if we took it a step further?”

Glorfindel froze, and asked uneasily, “What else do you want to do?”

“I thought I made it clear the other night. I want a baby.”

“Yes... but that would mean...” Glorfindel mulled it over. “You are very, very sweet to do all of this, just for me, but... first of all, a baby is a big responsibility.”

“I will be taking care of it,” Tauniel replied. “You will hardly know it is around.”

“You also forget, to make one... I would have to...” Glorfindel cringed at the thought.

Squirming away a little, Tauniel admitted, “If I knew another way, other than you having to stick that thing into me, I would gladly go that route. I am not enjoying the thought of actual intercourse with you.”

“I would take offense to that, but the feeling is mutual.” Glorfindel sighed. “I think we both need a little time to think about this.”

“Alright,” sulked Tauniel. “If we wait too long, though, Aranel will have her child, and then they will not grow up together.”

“Are you doing this simply because you want to provide Aranel’s elfling with a playmate?”

“No, that was just a thought I had just now,” answered Tauniel. She wriggled out of the nightshirt she had been wearing and rolled onto her side with her back to Glorfindel. “Go to sleep, honey, we can talk about this in the morning.”

Fairly certain of the fact that they had just had their first ‘lover’s quarrel’, and that he may have lost if only by not getting the last word in, it took Glorfindel a long while to finally fall asleep. Morning came too soon, and when he woke, he discovered that Tauniel had already left the bed and the apartment for the day.

---

“It is done.”

It took Glorfindel a few moments to register what Duilin said. He looked down at what was concealed within the writer’s palm and saw the jeweled ring that Enerdhil always wore. There was blood dried onto the silver band. Glorfindel shivered as Duilin slipped the ring into his pocket.

Merely an hour ago, Glorfindel had been resting on the sofa. All day, he had been weak and dizzy, and blamed it on his lowered constitution from his recovery, coupled with the events of the previous night. Now, he was in the Harper’s Hall, waiting for the summons from Turgon. The King had called a late night emergency meeting of the council, and most of the members were waiting in the hall. “Is that what the meeting is about?” mumbled Glorfindel. The room was loud and crowded, but Glorfindel was still cautious.

“Something like that. Turgon is planning to place Maeglin in charge of the House of the Mole.”

“Even though Maeglin is heir to the throne?” asked Glorfindel. “That seems... well, it makes me feel uneasy.”

“You are not the only one with misgivings about the idea.” Duilin motioned for Glorfindel to follow him into a dimly lit corner. “There is one way for the appointment of Maeglin to be null and void,” he said quietly after a server with a tray of cheeses strolled past.

“If Turgon has made his decision, I doubt there is any way to sway him. I hardly expect he would reconsider and change his mind.”

“Yes, but we have yet to make ours. There are a few small loopholes available to us. If we vote against him, he can be ousted,” explained Duilin. “We only need to have the votes of all of the house lords.”

“Oh?” Glorfindel waited for a couple to pass by, and then nodded for Duilin to continue.

“All of us need to stand united, but if we want we can challenge Turgon’s decision. No one has done it before, but we can call a vote of no confidence. Galdor brought it up.”

“That seems like a dangerous idea,” worried Glorfindel. “Is everyone in agreement, though?”

Duilin drank from his cup. His expression changed to one less confident. “I imagine Rog will be; he and Enerdhil were good friends. He also feels that there is competition, since he and Maeglin are both going to be in competition for the best smiths and craftsmen. Besides, Enerdhil was a jeweler; his apprentice should have taken over. It is strange that Celebrimbor was passed up. Rog gained his house by inherited it from the master he apprenticed with; the same should hold true for Celebrimbor. You can see why I am confident that Rog will stand with us. If we succeed, I would request Celebrimbor as the successor to the House of the Mole.”

“Rog is but one lord. What of the others?” questioned Glorfindel. “What you are talking about is dangerous, if not handled properly. It could be suicide if even one person sides with the King.”

“Galdor and I are obviously in agreement to stand against Turgon on this matter. I am assuming that you are against the appointment as well,” said Duilin.

Glorfindel nodded. “I am indeed against his decision. What about Penlodh?”

“Penlodh listens to the council of Erestor. The smartest move he made was to make him his proxy.” Duilin retreated a bit further back into the shadows as the room became more crowded, and Glorfindel did the same. “Whatever Erestor says, Penlodh will likely agree.”

“Erestor has his reservations about Maeglin. I am sure he will join with us. That leaves Egalmoth, Galdor, and Voronwe.”

“Voronwe will side with the majority. He always does. Salgant may be an issue. I have spoken to him, but someone else should.” Duilin made sure that Glorfindel saw the look he gave him before he continued. “Egalmoth will not likely argue against us, but he will need some convincing to join. We should both speak with him, though, it may be wise for you to do the majority of that, while I handle Salgant,” suggested Duilin. “You should at least let Salgant know which way you stand on the issue. I think he just needs a little nudge from someone other than I.”

“That seems fair. Everyone needs to know what is going on before we jump into this. I can speak with Erestor, and ask him to discuss the matter with Penlodh. Will you have a chance to talk to Voronwe tomorrow?” Glorfindel asked.

“Not tomorrow. Tomorrow is too late.” Duilin glanced to the spot where Salgant was performing. “We need to bring it up tonight, or Turgon will make the appointment and we will have no recourse. If you can speak to Erestor, then he can speak to Penlodh; I will talk to Rog. After that, can you speak with Salgant? If you see Galdor, let him know he should talk to Voronwe.”

“What if I find Voronwe before I see Galdor?” asked Glorfindel as he caught sight of the sailor entering the room.

Duilin gave Glorfindel a slight push toward the door. “Catch him before someone else does!”

The room was abuzz for the next hour as the lords discussed and debated the upcoming meeting and the connotation of what they were going to attempt. Turgon was proud, and being told he did not have the support of his council was a dangerous thing. There was doubt, and worry, but when a page came to the door and announced that the members were to assemble, every lord walked with confidence to the council chambers.

Once the doors were closed, Turgon motioned for everyone to sit. He held up an pair of empty vials and looked over the members of the council. “I want to know who did this.” His voice was low and clear. When no one responded, he smashed them down onto the floor. “The person responsible will come forth now!”

Glorfindel glanced over to Duilin, who was looking straight ahead. Everyone was surveying the room. Some of the lords, such as Voronwe, looked confused, while others appeared indifferent. “So help me, if I have to investigate this, I will have you all disciplined, and not privately either. One of you knows what happened and I will not tolerate this a moment longer!”

A single figure stood. “I can tell you what happened.”

Turgon narrowed his eyes. “You know who did this?”

Erestor stepped into the center of the room. He looked down at the destroyed vials and then up at Turgon. “I did it.”

The room was shocked into silence. Even Turgon temporarily lost the ability to speak. Finally, he said, “If you are once again covering the actions of another—“

“I can describe for you in exact detail what happened.”

Turgon did not look convinced. “Out.” He looked away from Erestor to the other members of the council. “Out, now! Everyone out! Except you,” he added, pointing an accusational finger at Erestor.

The other lords filtered out of the room, some quickly, others lingering to take what might well be their final look at Erestor before leaving. Glorfindel was the last to leave, his steps and breathing labored in part from his injuries, but more he believed from the stress. There was no way Erestor did what he said he had. In Glorfindel’s mind, at least, Erestor was innocent. He had to be innocent. The doors were shut and locked to the chamber, and the lords were ushered from the antechamber as well.

They stood together outside of the doors. Some attempted to listen, which was impossible considering the room’s construction. Others paced or fretted. Voronwe reached out and touched Duilin’s shoulder as he paced past. “Now what do we do?” he nervously asked.

“Now we wait,” answered Duilin.
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