“Might I trouble you to write something for me?” asked Gildor as he sauntered over to Erestor, who was beneath a tree reading.
“Certainly – your eulogy, perhaps?”
Gildor flinched. “Harsh, dear counselor, quite harsh.” He played it off, but the comment hit a nerve and put a smirk on Erestor’s face. “Never mind, on second thought, I want this legible.”
Before Erestor could formulate another insult, Glorfindel jogged over. He nodded at Erestor, and then gave Gildor a peck on the cheek. “Are we still having lunch?”
“Lunch, and dessert,” drawled Gildor. “Meet me in my rooms,” he said. As Glorfindel turned to go, Gildor gave him a pat on the rear, making Glorfindel blush. “Jealous?” he asked after Glorfindel left.
“Hardly,” mumbled Erestor unconvincingly.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gildor, Erestor, Glorfindel