Glorfindel stretched his arms above his head and took in the room. He did not have any windows in his rooms, but he preferred it that way, for he liked to nap midday and did not like the room to be too bright for it. There was a single flame burning in the lamp on the night table to illuminate the room. Blinking as he turned to the left, and then to the right, Glorfindel sat up in panic in the darkness.
“Erestor?” he called out, pulling the tangle of sheets and blankets from his body. There was no answer as he tumbled from the bed and stumbled to the table, fumbling to light more candles. His hands found something else before finding the flint – something flat. Glorfindel picked up the book and flipped through it, squinting at it in the darkness. Though his sight was poor and he could make out few words, what he saw comforted him. He smiled at the silvery ink and Erestor’s smooth writing, and the notes of what had transpired the previous night.
Letting out a deep sigh, for he had feared for a moment he had only dreamed the encounter, Glorfindel made his way into the washroom. Now that his senses were coming back to him, he realized from the ache in his body that the events that had occurred were most definitely not a dream.
Dressing simply in a pair of loose fitting pants, Glorfindel wandered back through the hallway, hearing humming as he traveled. Entering his reading room, he found Erestor sitting upon the padded stool, sorting through a stack of books on his lap. “Good morning, Wilwarin,” said Glorfindel softly, moving behind Erestor to embrace him.
Erestor smiled, but questioned, “Butterfly?”
“Yes, but you are more beautiful,” said Glorfindel.
“I have been compared to animals before – usually those of the slithering or rodent varieties, but never something so delicate. Why a butterfly?”
“You have always reminded me of one,” admitted Glorfindel, rubbing Erestor’s shoulders. “In Gondolin, you were so eager to learn, you were like a caterpillar, devouring all of the knowledge you could find. You had a very warm personality, like a fat and happy fuzzy little caterpillar. When I found you again, you had sheltered yourself, built a cocoon. I hoped for many long years that one day you would break out of that shell. I wanted the old you back so badly. After Elrond left, after we learned of this bond we shared, I watched as you slowly began to free yourself, but I did not want to press things. A cocoon cannot be forced open, or what is inside dies. You have slowly unfolded your wings through the years we have spent together, Wilwarin, I am happy you finally freed yourself and let me teach you to fly.”
“I like flying,” smirked Erestor, his eyes closed and body relaxed at Glorfindel’s touch.
Grinning, Glorfindel crouched down a little more so that he could wrap his arms around Erestor and place his cheek against his lover’s back. “Perhaps another flying lesson can be arranged.”
“Later. I think my wings are going to fall off if you do not allow me time to rest,” said Erestor. He looked around the desk and asked, “Where do you keep your quills and ink? I must make a few notes before I begin this task.”
Glorfindel strayed one hand down to the bottom desk drawer and opened it, reaching inside without looking. He pulled out a box and casually opened it, then paused.
“Something the matter?” asked Erestor.
“No, nothing, I…” Glorfindel slid his fingers along the feathers, and Erestor looked down to see what was going on. Covering the box swiftly, Glorfindel shied away and stood up, tapping the box with the fingers of one hand.
“What have you got?” wondered Erestor.
“It is a pen,” said Glorfindel, wishing he had not.
Erestor scratched the side of his neck, perplexed. “Can I use it, then?”
Glorfindel uncovered the box and looked inside again. “Yes, but…”
“But what?”
Covering the box once more, Glorfindel explained, “It is a bit silly, really. I know that all you use for pens are peacock feathers, I do not recall why but I know there was a reason.”
“I like the weight of them,” said Erestor, following the now pacing Glorfindel around the room with his eyes.
“There you are,” said Glorfindel, continuing, “Every one I saw you use was black, or dark colored at least. Very solemn and dignified, but always black. Understandably so, the peacock tends to be a bird of that color, or the tail is, at least. However, I happened upon a peacock one day that was golden, a little orangey as well, and he was so kind to drop two feathers for me.” Glorfindel handed the box to Erestor shyly. “It has been in this desk for years uncountable. I had meant to give it to you but the time never came for it, and it always seemed too trivial, and perhaps a little too telling.”
Erestor pulled the lid off to find a feathered quill made with twin golden peacock feathers. The nib was golden as well, not the steel he was used to using. “You made this,” he stated, taking it from the box. It was lighter than he imagined it could be, and the feathers glittered in the light. “It is remarkably beautiful.”
“I guess you like it, then,” Glorfindel said. He was standing against a bookshelf, looking a little embarrassed and a little proud that his gift was so well received.
“I love it.” Erestor set the quill down on the desk and stood up, approaching Glorfindel. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome.”
Lifting a hand to stroke Glorfindel’s cheek, Erestor leaned closer and met Glorfindel’s lips, coaxing the younger elf to relax. Just as Glorfindel began to place his hands upon Erestor’s hips, the dark elf took hold of his lover’s wrists and pinned them up above against the shelves of books. “You said something about… flying lessons,” purred Erestor, rubbing himself against Glorfindel in a most sensuous manner before nipping at the bare throat that presented itself.
“Oh… Erestor…” groaned Glorfindel, fighting to kiss his love once more. He was granted this, but only after torture long enough to arouse him. “Flying… falling… I will do whatever you ask of me,” he panted as they broke for air. “Forever. Always.”
Gliding his hands down along muscled arms, Erestor sighed as he embraced the blond elf and was nuzzled and cuddled in return, tears pricking at his eyes. “I love you, Glorfindel,” said Erestor softly into his lover’s ear as they held one another.
Snuggling closer, Glorfindel whispered, “And I love you, Erestor.”
A sudden, gurgling noise made Glorfindel step back and look down at Erestor’s stomach. “Are you hungry again already?”
“I was in that cocoon a long time,” joked Erestor as another light grumbling came from his midsection.
Glorfindel grinned and shook his head. “Can I make breakfast for you?”
“Sure.” Erestor started back toward the desk. He picked up the quill and twirled it in his fingers. “Umm... do you want me to help you?”
“That would be nice. I would enjoy spending the time with you.” Glorfindel waited in the doorway for Erestor to join him, and then added, “But you need to wear an apron.”
“Oh? Why?”
The blond blushed. “Just humor me, would you?”
Erestor chuckled. “Fine.”
Glorfindel stopped when they reached the sleeping chamber and went to the closet. When he turned around, he saw that Erestor had left. Assuming it was because he needed to go to his rooms for fresh clothing, Glorfindel dressed, tidied up, and left the door open and unlocked as he whistled and walked to the kitchen.
When he arrived, he was surprised to see that Erestor was already there. With elbows resting on the counter, Erestor’s head was bowed and he was focused intently upon a recipe card he had pulled from a box Glorfindel kept on the counter. True to his word, he had donned an apron – it was black – and left his hair loose and his shirt off. Obsidian tresses kept his tanned shoulders half-hidden.
“What shall we make today?” asked Glorfindel cheerily as he pulled another apron – this one blue and white striped – from a peg on the wall.
“I was thinking that these pancakes looked good,” remarked Erestor. “Maybe we can make them and have some dried apples on the side?”
“Sure.” Glorfindel circled around skidded to a stop when he was behind the counter, for he saw something he did not expect.
Erestor glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“I did not mean JUST the apron.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Erestor pressed his lips together, but the light of his eyes twinkled mirthfully. “Let me go get dressed.”
“Oh, no.” Glorfindel took hold of Erestor’s wrist. He tugged him back to the counter and stood behind him. “Hmm... this seems familiar...” Glorfindel mused as he pressed up against Erestor.
“Library,” recalled Erestor before he let out a gasp. His appearance had quickly affected Glorfindel, whose hard erection made Erestor shiver. “Ink spilled... on the rug...”
“I foresee something spilling on the floor here as well,” prophesized Glorfindel. He leaned forward and kissed Erestor’s cheek. “You and I are going to have so much fun together, darling.”
Erestor turned his head, a rare, truly happy smile on his face before he stole a kiss from his lover. “Of that I have no doubt.”
