When he returned, Glorfindel had been given the choice to serve in any of the Elvenrealms, but not to create his own. This had made him somewhat sour about returning, but his decision was made easy: He would choose a place that did not have a King or someone who acted like one. It was only Imladris where this criterion was met, and so that was where Glorfindel had gone.
It was fortunate he had chosen Rivendell, he later decided. All of the realms were boring by his standards, but at least in the Homely House, there was some small amount of excitement. Because of the fact it was not run as a kingdom, small businesses thrived and residents had a vested interest in the progress of their community. Glorfindel soon learned that Lord Elrond was both kind and brilliant, with a flair for being a leader more so than a ruler.
The best thing about Imladris, however, was a small building connected to but not originally part of the main house. It was one of the many eating establishments of the valley, and the proprietor was a very likable fellow. When Glorfindel had first entered, it was a bitterly cold day. The smell of brewing coffee wafting from the entrance caught his attention. He had been marching down the main steps on his way to the training fields earlier than usual, but the hope of a few minute’s respite in a warm place made him investigate.
“Morning,” called out the owner, though his back had been turned. Few others were in the small pub, and Glorfindel looked around to see paintings on the two side walls. One was of Doriath, and the other of Gondolin. Immediately, Glorfindel had a feeling he was meant to be here. The owner, who served as waiter, cook, and bartender later in the day, turned around after tending to the grill he was cooking on, wiped his brow and asked, “What can I get for you this morn?”
Glorfindel took a seat at the bar, which separated the owner from the patrons except for a small break used to maneuver in and out with trays. It allowed everyone to watch him cook as well. “I am not sure.”
“Something to eat, something to drink?”
“Coffee,” he answered, cringing as a baby that one of the patrons had with her woke up, shrieked, and cried until he was given his breakfast, too.
The owner laughed, and Glorfindel took note of the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Not the morning type, are you?” he asked as he set a steaming mug before the warrior. “Anything for it?”
“Sugar?”
“Normally I do not answer to such informalities on the first meeting, but I might make an exception for you this time,” responded the ellon as he pulled over a bowl of sugar. It took Glorfindel a few moments to realize it was a cheeky retort. He blushed when he thought of nothing to say in return, and again the dark haired ellon laughed, but it was a friendly, apologetic sort of laughter. “Sorry, I could not help it. Very seldom do I get a fresh audience. Erestor,” he said by way of introduction, holding out his hand.
“Glorfindel.” The blond shook Erestor’s hand. “No, it was funny. Do not apologize.” The famed warrior and feared slayer of balrogs shyly spooned sugar into his coffee, daring to look up and catch a glimpse of his new friend only briefly when the ellon was addressing someone else and looking away from him. From that moment on, Glorfindel was certain he was meant to be there.
- - -
“You remind me of someone,” said Glorfindel one morning. He had not meant to blurt it out, but he had been thinking it for weeks, ever since he had made coming to Erestor’s establishment part of his daily routine. When Erestor glanced over his shoulder, waiting for elaboration, Glorfindel shook his head. “Do not ask for me to recall who; my memory is yet cloudy about many things.”
Erestor turned back to his work. After distributing the rest of the orders to those waiting for them at the tables, he took a seat next to Glorfindel on the stood beside him. “If you figure it out, do keep it between us. It makes my life much simpler to pretend my parents were killed before I knew them than to admit who my father was. There are few who would discover such a thing; I worried when you came you had figured it out sooner.”
These words seemed cryptic to Glorfindel, until he took a very good look at his friend. Eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “I will tell no one,” he assured Erestor.
“Thank you. I know I can trust you with my secret.” Erestor placed his hand over the one that Glorfindel had resting on his mug of coffee, and gave a little squeeze. “Oops, let me freshen up your coffee,” offered Erestor, sliding down from the stool. He retrieved the kettle, missing Glorfindel’s blush. “There you are, sunshine,” Erestor said. “Anything else I can get for you?”
Glorfindel shook his head. “I should be on my way as it is. I like to get to the fields early so I am not fighting for use of an archery target to practice on.”
“The best time for that is two hours before dawn,” suggested Erestor. “The fields are empty and I have only ever seen straying deer or foxes so early in that area. Of course, you would need to contend with me being out there as well.”
“Ah... I wondered when you practiced,” murmured Glorfindel, more to himself than to Erestor. But louder, yet only for Erestor to hear, he said, “Who do you spar with, then? Surely you do not end up looking as you do from archery alone.”
“No one, just myself. I use the area in the earliest hours, when others are not awake. I must make it back here in time to open this place for breakfast, and by the time I close for the day, I am too tired for sparring.”
“Perhaps I could join you during some of your early practices,” said Glorfindel, and then added, “I do not know if you have considered it before, but... well, you look as if you would make a good soldier, and without much training. Surely, your hours would not be so long, and the pay would be significantly higher—”
Erestor held up his hand. “Before you continue your recruitment speech, I will courteously decline your offer. If anyone ever found out—“
“You did nothing. You did do nothing, right? Your father, well... but how can you be held accountable for his sins?”
“Guilt by association, Glorfindel,” answered Erestor simply. “There would be those who would question it, and they would not just question me, but they would question you for putting me in such a position. Then they would question Elrond for allowing such a thing to happen, if indeed he did allow it. He tolerates that I have taught myself to be proficient with bow and sword; though, he does not like it.”
Glorfindel fought to find some reason to sway Erestor, but sighed when his friend leaned over the counter and settled his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate your... attempt, your faith in me. I would still accept your company in the early mornings, if your offer—“
“I will be there,” answered Glorfindel swiftly, before Erestor had time to reconsider.
- - -
During their early morning meetings, Glorfindel and Erestor both learned much of one another and from one another. Their friendship grew to something of a fellowship or a brotherhood, but every night while he sat silently in his room, Glorfindel wished for more than they had. He grew increasingly jealous of the maidens Erestor flirted with when they came to deliver the goods in the morning, and looked forward to every lingering look and comforting touch. There were countless times that Glorfindel went out of his way to shift his arm or hand so that Erestor would brush against him, but these idle touches did little to ease his true longing.
He knew he had to be the one to initiate something, but the time never seemed right. Someone would walk up to the counter, or they would realize that the roosters were crowing and that they needed to leave the practice fields lest someone else suddenly join them. On the rare occasions that Glorfindel did get his chance, the words would never quite make it out, and something else would replace them. He wondered at times, whether Erestor knew what was really going on inside his head, or if the other elf just thought him rather strange to stutter about from time to time. It took Glorfindel years to work up the nerve to ask Erestor to dinner, and it hardly went as planned.
His initial plan was to ask when they met to spar, but fear overcame him at first sight of Erestor’s silhouette moving closer and closer to the fields. Glorfindel scribbled an apology at the last moment, fabricating a need to see someone about something, and left it stuck on one of the targets. Then he hurried back to his rooms, sneaking about the long way so that Erestor did not see him. He spent the morning berating himself and trying to build up his courage before he finally forced himself back out again for breakfast.
Glorfindel’s morning coffee was awaiting him on the counter, just as it was every morning, with a full sugar bowl beside the mug. Erestor was pouring out batter on the griddle and alternately flipping pancakes as he carried on a conversation with the elleth that sold eggs and milk to him every morning. She excused herself as Glorfindel sat down. Immediately, the blond fidgeted nervously with the spoon in the sugar as he went over his practiced speech in his head.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Erestor cracked two eggs into a glass dish and began to beat them with a fork. “I missed you at the archery range, but I found your note. What is your pleasure today, oatmeal and apple sauce or sausage and eggs?”
“I am, er, that is... I... there was something I wanted to... to talk to you about.” Glorfindel winced at the sound of his own timidity. Luckily, none of his recruits ever came this early into Erestor’s establishment, so he did not have to worry about one of them overhearing him. Still, someone might have overheard. He cleared his throat and began to try again, but Erestor stopped him.
“You want to stop coming here every morning,” guessed Erestor. “And, you want to make our sparring sessions less frequent. I understand – change of pace, and you think you might offend me. Glorfindel, I can hardly expect you to stay away from the Great Hall constantly, and getting up so early tires you out later when you have to be energetic when you are dealing with the other soldiers.”
“What? No, that is not it at all. I have every intention of continuing to come here every morning,” promised Glorfindel. “I... I really enjoy... this,” he said, motioning between them. “The conversation, the debates and such that we have... it’s... it’s just...”
“The sparring, then. It is very early, and to expect you there every morning—“
“No, no, you misunderstand!” Glorfindel swallowed, panicking, and afraid of saying too much. “It is not that I want to see less of you, I...” Glorfindel noticed that the room was suddenly silent, and felt the eyes of everyone else upon them. “Can we go somewhere private?” he whispered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Erestor lifted the part of the counter that allowed him to move between the dining area and the kitchen and motioned Glorfindel to come around the counter. Hesitantly, Glorfindel came around and followed Erestor past the counter through a doorway that led to Erestor’s own quarters, which Glorfindel had never seen but had always known existed. “Better?”
“Much, yes. I... oh, bother, I am still having problems saying what I mean,” he mumbled, looking away from Erestor to glimpse through the doorway that led to Erestor’s bedchamber before looking back.
The look was not missed by Erestor. “You enjoy this,” he said, motioning between them, “but you are hoping for a little... of that,” he said, nodding in the direction of the bedroom.
“Well... see, this... this is good. This is very, very good,” Glorfindel assured his friend, waving his hand from one to the other. “I want us to keep doing this, but, yes, I thought, maybe a little of that could be good, too.”
“So you still want a lot of this, but you also want a little of that.”
Glorfindel nodded, both of them still motioning between themselves and also to the bedroom. “Or, a little of this and a lot of that. Or however you want to do it; some of both, a little of this, a little of that, or, lots of everything. Oh, dear me, that sounded bloody awful,” mumbled Glorfindel, staring at the ground.
Erestor lightly laughed as he stuffed the corner of the towel he had been holding into his pocket and placed his hand gently on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “Maybe we start with a little and work our way up to a lot.”
“That was not what I had planned, not at all! I sound like such a disgraceful, perverted... I wanted to have dinner with you. Not here... not that your cooking is not good, but I wanted you not to have to... ugh.” Glorfindel was still staring at the ground. “Can we... can I try that again?”
“So... you want this, and you want dinner, but none of that right now,” said Erestor very solemnly, but he was fighting not to laugh again at poor Glorfindel’s predicament.
“Of course I want THAT.” Glorfindel dared look up at Erestor. “I just... what do you want?”
“That is a dangerous question, especially if you truly expect an answer,” said Erestor. He licked his lips and closed the gap between them. “You really want me to tell you what I want?”
Glorfindel swallowed hard. “I… I guess maybe it might be a little something more than just this?”
Erestor nodded, his free hand touching Glorfindel’s cheek before lunging forward, hungrily meshing their lips together as he pressed Glorfindel back against the wall. Heat rose up in both of them, and clothing was loosened and lost on the way into the bedroom, the door slammed shut with insistence. “I had a feeling that you wanted that,” panted Erestor, fighting to remove his belt. “I know I have, for a long time now.”
“You, too?” Glorfindel wound up on the bed, having stumbled backwards onto it. He propped himself up using his elbows. “I did, but I... I was worried about our friendship and the early morning meetings. I was concerned, if I said something, we would never get to this, and we would lose that, and the other thing, and...”
“Stop worrying.” Erestor yanked off the rest of his clothing and joined Glorfindel on the bed, slowly crawling forward over the blond’s body. “We can have this,” he said, kissing Glorfindel deeply once more, “that,” he said, dipping down to rub their freed erections together, “and,” he added, as Glorfindel let out a long groan, “the other thing.”
“The... talking and the breakfast and the sparring...?”
“Those are all nice, yes, we will have to keep doing those,” mumbled Erestor as he nipped at Glorfindel’s ear. “But I was thinking more of…”
- - -
Back in the little diner, the faint sound of a blissful moan was heard by a few close to the door that Erestor and Glorfindel had disappeared into. “Just what is going on back there?” questioned Lindir, who had come in after the pair had disappeared in hopes of tea and a bite to eat. He had managed to get the tea on his own, but was a little disappointed at the lack of service.
“A little of this, and a little of that, I think,” answered one of the other patrons.
The maid whom Erestor had been speaking with earlier giggled as another, louder groan was heard, and added, “And a bit of the other, from the sound of it.”
“Finally!” Lindir sank down on the bench next to the milk maid and sipped his tea. After a few minutes of listening to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall, the minstrel said, “We should probably... leave them to it, give them some privacy...” The room had cleared out, with the exception of Lindir and the two ladies sitting at the same table.
“I would, but I am still eating,” said the other elleth, her ear pressed against the wall.
Lindir glanced down. “You have nothing left on your plate.”
With a frown, she looked about, grabbed the syrup, and poured a puddle of it onto her plate. “There. Still eating.” Her ear pressed against the wall once more. “Oh, it sounds as if they have finished... they are coming back out!”
- - -
When Glorfindel and Erestor reentered, they tried to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, though they could not help but steal looks at one another as they said their farewells and made plans for dinner before Glorfindel hurried out to make it to the practice fields on time. Erestor grabbed hold of the coffee kettle, still looking to the front door where Glorfindel had left, and wandered to the trio at the table. “More coffee?” he asked. His attention was still on the door, so although he first managed to refill one mug, he then accomplished the task of filling an empty porridge bowl with coffee, and then topping off Lindir’s tea with it.
“Uh, Erestor? I think you can stop now,” advised Lindir, leaning back from the table.
“Hmm? Oh!” Erestor righted the kettle, having overfilled the tiny teacup so that a flood of coffee was now traveling across the table toward Lindir. Grabbing at his side, Erestor frowned. “I... thought I put my towel in my pocket...” he muttered as he retrieved a napkin from the next table and used it to staunch the flow of liquid.
“You probably did,” replied Lindir. “But, and correct me if I am wrong, but I think Glorfindel left with your trousers on, and you are wearing his now.”
Erestor looked down, smirked at his own folly, and set the kettle down on the table. “Now how did that happen...”
“Nice try at a cover-up, but we are all aware of what you were doing,” giggled the milk maid. “You might want to build thicker walls.”
The other lady poked her friend. “Shh! You are going to ruin all the fun!”
But Erestor had not heard, or if he had, was ignoring them for the moment. “If you will excuse me...” He jogged outside and ran to catch up with Glorfindel, finding him near to the fields. “Hey! Stop for a moment!”
Glorfindel turned around, surprised by Erestor’s sudden appearance. His first reaction was to worry, his expression changing, but Erestor waved his hand to calm him. “Look at your legs and tell me if you see something amiss.”
Furrowing his brow, Glorfindel did look, and it took him only a moment. “Ai! Can you imagine if I had—“
“Come on; back to my room, you can change back there,” offered Erestor.
They turned, but Glorfindel tugged on Erestor’s sleeve. “I can see the recruits coming. If we go back... well, obviously people are going to find out about us eventually, but—“
“Behind those trees,” Erestor suggested, and the pair hurried to hide and waited for the group of recruits to pass.
“Take off your pants, er, my pants,” prodded Glorfindel, who was already unfastening his belt.”
“I was not aware of how insatiable you were when we started this,” teased Erestor as he hopped around trying to remove the leggings, finally ending up on the ground to take them off. Erestor began to laugh once his legs were bare. “You are not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“I’m wearing your loincloth, too.”
Glorfindel looked down, rolled his eyes, and began to shrug off the undergarment. “Sorry.”
“No need. It is amusing to say the least. I—“ But before Erestor could finish his thought, he looked up and was started to see someone standing behind Glorfindel. “Uhhh... G-good morning, Lord Elrond.” He flashed a charming smile as he plopped a pair of discarded trousers, whose he had no clue, in his lap. “What brings you out here this early?”
Blushing furiously, Glorfindel tugged his tunic down, covering as much as he could, but leaving a lot exposed. “I thought you were going to inspect the guard this afternoon, m’lord, not this morning.”
Elrond looked from one, to the other, and then stared up to the sky as if searching for the Vala who had thrust this peculiar situation upon him. “I was... but I...” Elrond pursed his lips, rocked twice on his heels, and turned around. “I will return this afternoon. Do be sure that everyone is in their proper uniforms when I come back.”
As soon as Elrond was far enough away they scrambled to dress again, Erestor snickering and Glorfindel muttering and trying to rid himself of his blush. “Well, I have to go now,” Glorfindel said quickly. “I am late, plus I have a feeling I will have a few things to explain to Elrond later.”
“Elrond needs no explanation. He is wise enough to know what was going on.”
“I looked as if we were doing... that other thing... behind the trees, in the open. I do not want him thinking we are that unseemly,” said Glorfindel. He buckled his belt and smoothed down his tunic. “I will still see you this evening?”
“Of course.” Erestor put his hand over his mouth, laughing so hard that tears were escaping from the corners of his eyes.
“What now?” Glorfindel looked around. “Elrond is not back, is he?”
Erestor shook his head, and took a deep breath. “We put the wrong pants back on again.”
With a groan, Glorfindel looked down and saw their mistake. “Now I am going to be late,” he complained, removing the pants yet again.
“If you are going to be late anyhow, and if Elrond already thinks we were back here... doing that other thing... we might as well make you good and late, and bring some truth to the rumors that are sure to spread,” suggested Erestor.
“That would mean getting undressed again.”
“You already are getting undressed again,” Erestor reminded him. “Besides, you can be on top this time.”
“Right... well...” Glorfindel let the pants drop around his ankles. “When you put it that way...”
-End-
Story Notes:
Notes: This was supposed to be finished for Screw Yule, but didn’t make it in time. Finally got back to it now. Yay!