“Is that a spider?” Glorfindel scooted away. “Would you...?”
“Hmm?” His companion looked over, and then frowned. “You are afraid of spiders now?”
“Just little ones.”
“But not big ones,” said Erestor, letting the arachnid crawl onto his hand.
“No.”
“How come?”
“Little ones might creep into my hair.” Glorfindel settled again once the spider was relocated.
“Afraid of thunder, of spiders... anything else?”
“Lots.” Glorfindel checked for other eight-legged tormenters. “Bet you have a few fears yourself.”
“Just one.”
“Must be something big.”
“Oh, it is.” Erestor sighed when Glorfindel stared expectantly. “Being alone for eternity.”
‘Pounce him!’ whispered one voice in Glorfindel’s head, while the other chanted, ‘Patience is a virtue.’
“Did you say something?”
Glorfindel bit his lip and shook his head.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Glorfindel, Erestor