"Just once," grumbled Erestor as he came into the office he shared with Glorfindel, "I wish I could hold a simple, sane meeting with the Lothlorien delegation."
"Oh?" Glorfindel paused in his current task- folding sheets of parchment into toy boats while he waited for some inspiration for the letter he was to write to King Thranduil- and shoved his little paper armada aside. "I take it you had a rather unproductive afternoon."
"Unproductive hardly describes it." Erestor sat down on the edge of his desktop, drumming his fingers upon the blotter pad. "Most of the day was taken up by Orophin's spewing of fleechment upon me in the most sarcastic manner."
Shifting his gaze to the window while he replayed what Erestor just said in his own mind, Glorfindel finally said, "Well, you can barely notice it."
Erestor blinked, turning his head to look upon the blond. "Notice what?"
"The, uh, the... the fleech, er, that he was, um..." Glorfindel became silent as Erestor cocked one brow up as high as it would rise. "So, terrible meeting, then?"
"You have no idea what fleechment is, do you," stated Erestor, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well... maybe not, but," pointed out Glorfindel rather abruptly as Erestor was about to open his mouth again, "I was dead for a really long time, when all of the rest of you were making up silly words like 'fleechment'."
"I admit; it was a conspiracy. We did it solely to barbulye you when you made you reentrance," explained Erestor in a very authoritative tone, that had Glorfindel not known him quite well, he might have almost believed the statement.
Taking a fresh sheet of paper with which to create another of his merry little fleet, Glorfindel said, "Now that one I understand, though I have never heard the word before. But my dear, you must not speak in riddles when you do not mean it, or else I will have little that I can use to decipher the definitions. You have such a repetoire of words, but I think at times you speak in such ways as to purposely... barbulye me."
"Stop that; I do not need you to become a fleecher as well." When Erestor received a patient yet firm look from Glorfindel, he said, "An idle flatterer."
"Oh, I would never do that," Glorfindel promised. "All of my flattery is genuinely sincere. I shall spew no fleechment at you."
Erestor wrinkled his nose. "My word, that does sound like something awful."
"Why not use something else next time - maybe, oh, let me think of a good archaic one you might like," offered Glorfindel. "What about gullage?"
"That sounds no better," Erestor said with a frown.
"Blandishment, perhaps?" suggested Glorfindel. "Or what about whillywhaws?"
"Willy whats?" Erestor snorted, then laughed. "You made that up."
"Someone had to, and no, I did not," argued Glorfindel politely. "Rog liked to use that term now and then."
"Alright, then he made it up, but it was made up all the same," countered Erestor.
Glorfindel reached forward and set his newest little boat on the corner of Erestor's desk. "Of course it was. All words are made up. You think the Eldar awakened to a complete vocabulary, ready for use?"
"Now that would have been handy," Erestor said, picking up the paper toy, balancing it upon one finger. "No silly words like willy-wah, stop laughing, to contend with." Erestor leaned back and placed the toy boat on top of Glorfindel's head.
"Whillywhaw is not so silly as fleemchet, I mean, flech- fleechment is," Glorfindel managed, blushing slighly at his stuttering. "See? I cannot even say it on the first go. Silly word."
"Good thing we hardly use either, right?" Erestor grabbed hold of the boat as it made an attempt to capsize off the side of Glorfindel's head. "I suppose I had best get back to it."
As Erestor stood up to leave, Glorfindel did likewise, walking him to the door. "You know, if you really want to barbulye him, you might think to fling some fleechment back in his direction."
"Fling some fleechment?" Erestor laughed heartily. "Well, the way this meeting is going, I just might try that."
