“Here we are,” announced Glorfindel as Erestor stepped out from the washroom, toweling off his hair. Glorfindel picked up a shirt from the couch and draped the garment over Erestor’s shoulder.
“You aren’t about to make me do this on my own, are you?” groaned Erestor as he felt around for the chair by the door and dropped the towel onto it. Pulling the shirt from his shoulder, he examined it with his hands and then smiled. “It’s just like a nightshirt.”
“That it is. Nothing to clasp, button, or otherwise ‘mess up’ as you put it,” Glorfindel told him.
“I can always end up with it inside out,” reasoned Erestor. He put the shirt on with little trouble. “It fits well. Where did you get it?”
Glorfindel grinned. “I just had the tailor use Lindir’s measurements. It wasn’t that difficult to have him make something plain. It is light blue and the pants you are wearing are black. I am making sure you don’t run the risk of mismatching,” Glorfindel assured him.
“That is very kind of you,” Erestor replied. He picked up the mask from the side table and hesitated, running his fingers over the velvet before lifting it up and tying it in place.
“I think,” said Glorfindel as he finished buttoning his shirt, “that I shall go to the kitchen and retrieve dinner considering the time. I hope they still have a bit of something left, and if not... well, I’m sure there must be something around.”
“And, I shall wait for you,” Erestor said, and shrugged. “Obviously.”
“Come with me,” offered Glorfindel.
Waving his hand, Erestor said, “Don’t worry, I won’t wander off anywhere. Promise.”
“I shall be right back.” Glorfindel gave Erestor a lingering look, then left for the kitchen.
- - -
Glorfindel entered the kitchen via the back entrance to avoid walking through the Great Hall. It appeared that the dessert course was already being served, for Elrond’s hunting hounds were gnawing at the beef scraps in one corner far from the numerous cats who inhabited the house that sat opposite daintily lapping from bowls of extra cream and disposing of the leftover fish as quickly as it was tossed to them. Among the group, Glorfindel noted Charisma and Pounce, each of them appearing quite full and intent now on cleaning their coats.
Inquiring with the head cook as to what might still be left from the meal, he was presented with a covered tray and a wink. “Lord Elrond said you weren’t likely to attend the meal,” the cook explained. He waved over one of the servers and instructed him to fetch wine to be taken to Erestor’s room, though his exact words were ‘To the room of Lord Glorfindel and Master Erestor’, which inexplicably caused Glorfindel to blush like a youth and mumble his thanks as the cook chuckled and waved him out of the room.
Halfway down the hall, he was intercepted by the prince of Greenwood. “Good evening, Captain. I trust you fair well this evening,” said Legolas with the practiced tongue of royalty.
“I do indeed, your highness,” Glorfindel said with a slight bow as he minded the tray he carried. “I hope your stay here thus far has been a pleasant one.”
“Indeed. It has.” The prince smirked slightly and then said, “There is one matter of which I meant to ask you about.” The regal air slipped a bit and concern crept in. “Do you recall, some years ago, there was a small party of elves that my guards could not rescue on our way to the valley. My scouts and I went to cut off the orcs we had seen while the rest of our group was sent here and told to inform someone of those we had heard. Were they ever found?”
Glorfindel paused to think on this. “How long ago, would you wager this was?”
“The very last time I was here in the valley, when I was part of the escort that brought General Erestor here,” said Legolas. He smiled at Glorfindel’s blank expression. “You do not remember when that was, do you?”
“I... did not make Erestor’s acquaintance until just recently,” admitted Glorfindel.
“Ah. I had hoped perhaps you may have known,” said Legolas. “Elrond does not seem to recall, either. I fear perhaps that help came too late.” There was a pause, and Glorfindel was unsure whether Legolas was referencing to the party of elves, or to Erestor. “Let me not keep you longer, Glorfindel. Good evening to you.”
“And to you, your highness.” Glorfindel gave a nod of his head and then continued to his destination.
He entered the room to find it brighter than he had seen it before. “Someone came by with wine,” spoke Erestor, who was lounging on the sofa. “He asked which we wanted, but since I can’t read the labels,” slurred Erestor, “I asked him to leave them both. I think I like this one,” he said, holding up the bottle that was in his hand. Another bottle was uncorked and resting on the floor. Glorfindel discovered a third on the main table. It was on its side with a small puddle made from a few droplets nearby.
“It looks as if you liked this one most of all,” said Glorfindel as he put the tray down.
“I did, but it ran out.” Erestor took a drink straight from the bottle he held and said, “You may need to find some wine for yourself.”
Glorfindel walked over and picked up the bottle on the floor before taking away the one Erestor held. “Save some for dinner, which by the way is getting cold.” The bottles joined the empty one on the table, which Glorfindel righted. “Or would you rather eat where you are?”
“Come here a moment,” commanded Erestor. Glorfindel walked back over and sat down on an empty edge of the couch. “I think I tied my mask too tight. Would you mind untying it for me?”
“No, because you’re drunk, and later when you find out about it you will be very cross that I did.” Glorfindel folded his hands, and did not budge as Erestor pulled on his arm. “Besides, I ended up sore and bruised last time I made an attempt to take it off, and that was merely an accident.”
“But I’m drunk,” Erestor said, pulling on Glorfindel’s arm. “So I won’t.”
Glorfindel easily managed to take hold of Erestor’s wrists with his hands. “Do you know what I just thought? I wonder- you’re not really drunk, are you?”
The playful smile fell from the dark elf’s face. “Am I that bad of an actor?” asked Erestor.
“No,” answered Glorfindel. “But you can’t fool me. Why do you want me to remove it?”
“Because...” Erestor’s hands dropped into his lap as Glorfindel let go of them. “Because you’ve wanted to, and I thought I might finally let you.” With his head bowed down, he felt Glorfindel’s fingers gently untie the knotted cords. The mask fell from his face and he opened his eyes, trying to seek out Glorfindel by the sound of his voice.
“You have blue eyes,” Glorfindel said softly. “They’re beautiful.”
“They don’t do anything,” said Erestor dryly.
“Oh, you don’t think they do, but they do,” corrected Glorfindel. “Now when I see them, I know that means you trust me. And that means quite a lot.”
“Yes, I... I do trust you.” Erestor swallowed hard. “You... you can put it back on if it bothers you. It bothers most, that’s why I keep the mask on.”
“It doesn’t bother me. Not at all.” Glorfindel stood up. “Shall we eat?”
Erestor nodded and stood up. His arm was guided to take hold of Glorfindel’s and together they walked to the table.
- - -
“I think I shall retire early. Today has been... quite an adventure,” Erestor decided upon as he made his way to the bed. He reached behind his head and then laughed. “Forgot I don’t have the mask on,” he muttered to himself as he pulled off his shirt.
Glorfindel stacked their dishes and leftovers on the tray, replaced the cover, and then carried it and the two empty wine bottles to the hallway. He placed them around the corner from the door where they would be retrieved by the kitchen staff later while Charisma and Pounce scooted in around his legs. The cats had once used the window as a means to enter and exit the room, but now roamed the hall as the rest of the house cats did as the door was more frequently opened and closed.
Entering the room again, Glorfindel went to the windows and drew the drapes but left them open for the breeze and so that the cats could get to the garden to see to their needs. The other half bottle of wine he took with him to the couch, settling down as he unbuttoned his shirt. He placed the wine bottle on the floor before taking off his boots and setting them beside the couch, then worked next on untying his pants. He had taken to sleeping in the nude- it didn’t matter if he did, he had weeks ago decided. Erestor would never notice.
Charismas leaped onto the pile of discarded clothing, kneading it into a nest for himself as Glorfindel drew back the blanket on the sofa. Pounce joined him, taking up residence by his feet. Across the room, Erestor cleared his throat. “Something the matter?” asked Glorfindel.
“I... well, you had spent the last two nights in bed... I just... well, if you don’t want to anymore,” Erestor said in a rush, playing with the edge of the sheet.
“I was just about to come over. Just saying good night to the cats.” Glorfindel bit his lip and stood up, looking down at his arousal. His hope had been to have a little wine before joining Erestor in the bed, perhaps even relieve the tension on his own if need be. Passing by the table, Glorfindel blew out three of the four candles and took the last with him to the bed, setting it upon the table on what was his side of the bed. Trying to think of things to clear his mind of the delightfully impure thoughts he was having, he settled himself on the bed without crawling under the covers. “All tucked in?” asked Glorfindel.
Erestor nodded, one arm under his pillow and the other over the blanket. “Good night, Glorfindel.” He closed his eyes, and rolled over with his back to Glorfindel.
“Good night, love.” Glorfindel slapped his hand over his mouth the moment it came out, and Erestor rolled back over to face him again, eyes open but narrowed slightly. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Erestor snickered. “You are a terrible actor.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Well, what I lack in theatrical sincerity, I make up for in my charm and good looks.” Groaning inwardly, Glorfindel realized again too late his mistake in words. Grimacing, he looked at Erestor, whose expression was wistful.
Erestor reached over and felt around until he found Glorfindel’s hand. “I bet you have the most gorgeous blond hair this side of the sea,” he said rather unexpectedly.
“It’s just average,” Glorfindel replied modestly. He said nothing else as Erestor’s other hand reached toward the golden strands, missing them. Taking hold of Erestor’s hand, he threaded the fingers through his hair.
“It’s soft,” commented Erestor. His hand nudged one of the intricate braids, which he fingered for a moment. “I remember...” He let out a pained sigh. “I remember when I used to have these,” he said of the braids denoting Glorfindel’s warrior status. Letting go, Erestor pulled his hand away, but it was easily caught by Glorfindel, who held it fast and took with his other hand the one Erestor had placed upon his.
“Erestor-“
“Please, no, I-“
“Do not tell me again that you can not be with anyone because of your lack of sight. In darkness,” whispered Glorfindel, “we are both blind.”
And he blew the last candle out.
