“Are we in or out?” asked Glorfindel once they were alone.
Erestor shivered nervously despite the high temperature. “You have to cut it. I won’t be able to.”
With a sigh, Glorfindel nodded and retrieved a comb. “They need it braided,” he said, and Erestor sat still as his husband took a seat on the floor behind him and began to part the dark hair carefully. “So, who did it that time before the war?”
“Thranduil,” answered Erestor. “I was going to ask you, but his door was closer, and I think you may have refused.”
“I probably would have,” Glorfindel admitted. Glorfindel stilled his hands. “What if they could dye mine?”
“Fin...”
“I’m sure they could!”
“Fin...”
“Erestor, I don’t want you to do this.”
“Glorfindel.”
“What?”
“Give me your knife.”
When he didn’t respond, Erestor reached around toward Glorfindel’s belt, but the blond pulled back. “No, I’ll do it. I’ll do it,” he said softly.
Glorfindel wiped the sweat from his palms before taking hold of the long rope of hair in one hand and his knife in the other. He swallowed hard, trying to judge where he should cut. “I am going to leave it as long as I can, love,” he said.
“I know,” replied Erestor quietly.
Setting the knife down, Glorfindel wiped his hand on his pants again, then picked up the blade and positioned it between the braid and Erestor and held the hair a little tighter so that the cut would be straight.
“Oh, and another thing!” Elodien’s sudden appearance at the entrance of the tent startled both elves. It caused Glorfindel’s wrist to jerk and Erestor to look up, and the disconnected rope of hair fell into Glorfindel’s lap. “Tomorrow, I will be here promptly at sunrise to take you to breakfast. Ah, let me get that; I’ll take it to Sconha on my way,” she said helpfully, retrieving the hair and leaving the tent. “Well, good night,” she added before disappearing.
Glorfindel drew in a long breath and let it out with the words, “Oh, fuck.”
“Oh, fuck, what?” demanded Erestor sternly. His defense of getting forceful and angry when he was really upset and worried was pushing to the surface.
“I had no intention of cutting it this short.” Glorfindel cringed as he ran his fingers through the strands to detangle them and shook his head. “You are not going to like this.”
“Well, it’s... it’s not as short as I had it during the last alliance, right?” questioned Erestor, unable to tell with the high collar of his shirt covering the back of his neck.
“Before you get upset,” spoke Glorfindel, scooting back a little, “remember- it WILL grow back.”
“It is as short as it was during the last alliance,” sighed Erestor.
Biting his lip, Glorfindel slid the knife under a cushion and then said, “Actually, it’s, ah...”
“It’s shorter?” It came out as a squeak, a worried squeak.
“Much,” answered Glorfindel, wringing his hands.
Erestor brought his hands together over his mouth and nose, breathing in and out a few times to calm himself while Glorfindel crawled around to face him. “It.. well, it isn’t bad,” offered the blond. “It’s just.. ahm, different,” he settled on.
“I don’t doubt that,” answered Erestor shakily.
“Please don’t cry,” added Glorfindel, biting on his lip again.
Lowering his hands and giving his lover a small smile, Erestor shook his head. “I’m not going to cry. I told you to do it; I wanted to do it. I’m just very vain.”
“Let me find a mirror,” offered Glorfindel. He sifted through the contents of one of the bags and pulled out the reflective panel, handing it to Erestor. The dark elf accepted it, immediately looking at his reflection. He turned his head to the side, then to the other. “See? Not.. too bad..” said Glorfindel hopefully.
“Actually..” Erestor ran his fingers back through his cropped locks, shaking his head to settle them again. “It seems to suit me.”
Glorfindel, feeling relieved now, snuggled his way into Erestor’s lap. “You know,” mused Glorfindel. “This is the first time I can ever recall looking more feminine than you.”
Erestor tried not to narrow his eyes, but failed. “Are you saying that in past I looked like an elleth?”
“Oh, I’m in trouble,” mumbled Glorfindel. “I don’t think I’ll try getting out of that one. I’ll only end up making the hole deeper.” Glorfindel looked over Erestor carefully in the mirror before whispering, “Do you know who it is you remind me of?” Erestor said nothing. “You look a lot like your father like this. You realize that, don’t you?”
Erestor nodded sadly. “I know. I saw it the last time.”
“You miss him, don’t you?” Glorfindel rested back against Erestor’s chest, reaching up a hand to play with the ends of the dark tresses that curled just slightly.
“I never really knew him,” said Erestor. “Someday... someday I’ll see him again.”
Eagle & Dove by Zhie