Erestor was in bed with a cat curled around his arm when he heard the knock on his door. Sleepily, he called out, “It’s unlocked.”
Taking this as invitation to enter, Glorfindel turned the knob and let himself in. For early evening, the room was dark, with curtains drawn and no candles lit. What little light came in from the hallway showed him that there were very neat and wide paths around everything in the first room, which had a simple table and chairs, and a couch for lounging with pillows bunched at one side. At the far end of the room was a large bed, upon which Erestor seemed to have been napping.
“Good evening, I-“
“You’re not Elrond!” Erestor sat up suddenly, upsetting the cat greatly. The feline growled his discontent before slinking under the bed. Fumbling with the mask that had been on the small table beside the bed, Erestor asked, “What in Manwe’s name are you doing in here?” He hastily tied the leather thongs behind his head as he awaited Glorfindel’s answer.
Quickly, Glorfindel shut the door and stepped a little further into the room. “I wanted to apologize for what I said to you earlier. It was rather rude of me. Having just come in from a very trying week, I did not mean to be so harsh.”
Erestor seemed to either be giving Glorfindel time to finish, or else he himself was thinking rather hard about what to say. “That is,” Erestor said finally, “you didn’t mean to be so harsh to one so impaired as I.”
Glorfindel set his jaw. “No,” he said forcefully, “I truly did not mean to be so harsh. I came from a difficult situation which at the time had yet to be resolved. Perhaps my choice of words would have been different, but I still would have snapped at you even if I had known you to be blind.”
Having not left the bed yet, Erestor simply turned his head away. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh. And now I come here to make apology, with my words and with a nice dinner and conversation, and you insult me.” Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest and gave a little huff.
“Then, accept my sincerest apology, and let us be done with the matter,” offered Erestor. “I did not understand your intentions. So, we have had forgiveness and conversation – where is dinner?”
“It is coming,” promised Glorfindel, and a knock sounded upon the door. “Ah, there it is. I had them send something from the kitchens.”
“What did you have them bring?” asked Erestor as Glorfindel headed to the door.
“I asked them to make it a surprise,” Glorfindel said, opening the door to find a pair of maids from the kitchen. “Thank you, ladies, let me just take that, and-“
“Oh, you do not have enough hands for what Lord Elrond has had us bring for you, but here, hold the wine, please!” A cheerful elleth with dark curled hair placed a cool bottle in Glorfindel’s hands and then helped her counterpart carry the platter she had been balancing. “Save the tarts for last, they’ve only just been baked!”
“Lord Elrond has said you should meet with him late in the afternoon, and not to feel bad if you must miss your meeting. Breakfast will be brought up tomorrow when you will it. When will you will it my lords?”
“Uh...” Glorfindel turned his head as he felt a breath of air ghost across the back of his neck. Nearly dropping the wine with a start when he realized how close Erestor was to him, he recovered quickly and narrowed his eyes at the smirk he was being given.
With a grin, Erestor answered, “I take my breakfast early, just as the sun rises.”
Glorfindel made a gesture as if to say to the pair, ‘Well, there is your answer’. The maids gave each other slightly odd looks, but cheerfully nodded to them and set things up about the table before leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, Glorfindel turned around, and this time did drop the bottle of wine when he came unexpectedly face to face with Erestor once again.
Grasping the neck of the bottle just before it hit the floor, Erestor said, “Lord Elrond?”
“He, uh, he wanted to help in making sure we didn’t have hard feelings about-“ Glorfindel threw his hands up in the air as Erestor turned away from him, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “Fine, fine. He believes the rumor you started.”
“So does everyone else it would seem,” mused Erestor.
“What was that supposed to mean?” asked Glorfindel.
“Nothing, perhaps. Well, come then, dinner is getting cold.”
Glorfindel slowly followed after the dark elf, who was dressed now in a light robe he had not remembered him being in earlier. In fact, if his memory served him, it looked quite possibly as if Erestor had been sleeping in the nude. “You mean to have dinner with me then?”
“I do not plan to shun Lord Elrond’s hospitality.” Erestor set the bottle on the table. “You will need to see to this,” he said, patting the bottle as he grabbed for one of the chairs. Finding one close to him he sat down and said, “I have such terrible luck with haphazard corks flying about and breaking things. Or hitting the cats.”
On cue, a puffy calico leaned up against Glorfindel’s right leg and let out a soft and pretty purr. “How many cats do you have?” he asked as he reached for the bottle and picked up the corkscrew.
“Two that I know of, but I think sometimes they bring home strays.” Erestor leaned his face closer to the table and breathed in deeply. “Is there a dish over on this side with chicken in it?” he asked, waving his right hand above the table.
“Left a little. Up, just a hair- there, your hand is over the cover,” said Glorfindel, who could see the contents through the glass covers.
“Thank you.” Erestor lifted the cover from the dish and experimentally poked a finger at what was inside- chunks of chicken, simmered in ginger and other spices, and served over brown rice. “Pounce is the troublemaker who pretends she is cute. Charisma is the fat one.” He fished out a piece of chicken, shook off the rice and popped it into his mouth.
“The... oh, the cats,” nodded Glorfindel. He managed to remove the cork without injuring anyone or anything, and poured a glass of wine first for Erestor, and then one for himself. “Would you like for me to fix you a plate?” Glorfindel offered, but Erestor shook his head.
“I eat very little. I also promise my hands are clean.” He licked off the two fingers he had been using to procure chicken and held up his hand. “See?”
There was no way for Glorfindel to keep from laughing. “What is that, some trick you learned from your cats? Lick you fingers clean?”
Erestor shrugged and walked his fingers across the tabletop until he came upon his glass of wine. “I thought it was funny.” He sipped from his goblet and said, “I would eat ‘civilly’, but quite often it seems the food runs around my plate hiding from me, and it becomes ever so frustrating.”
“Honestly, I don’t mind it,” Glorfindel said as he sat down, and then realized- no utensils had been brought. “Well, if you can do it, so can I.” He took the cover off of a bowl of steaming vegetables, all of them cut in fairly large chunks. “Obviously, Elrond is used to your eating habits.”
“He puts up with it. Stopped inviting me to formal dinners long ago. At least he lets me eat up here instead of behind the stables these days.” When Erestor heard Glorfindel stop eating, he added, “That was a joke.”
“Why do you keep insulting yourself?” questioned Glorfindel.
Steadying his glass with both hands, Erestor drank from it and then answered, “It usually puts others more at ease about me.”
“I don’t like it,” admitted Glorfindel. This brought about an uncomfortable silence in the room until Charisma broke through by letting out a meow of discontent that he had not been invited to dinner. The large cat swaggered to the table and flopped down nearby on the floor.
“I assume you met with Lord Elrond earlier?” Erestor’s voice was humorless, and he concentrated now on drinking his wine rather than eating.
Glorfindel wiped his fingers on his napkin and tossed it onto the table. “Yes, we met. I needed to tell him about what happened in the forest; we came across some men who wanted to come into the valley and gather what provisions they needed. They are having trouble with crops and with hunting game. Elrond said to give them what they asked for.”
“I assume my name came up in conversation?”
Sighing, Glorfindel leaned back in his chair. “Erestor, I do not know what exactly transpired between you and my men, but whatever it was, why could you not come to me about it rather than concoct some fanciful story?”
“I didn’t. Whatever tales are being told have been passed along between the soldier and the smiths, the ladies and lords, the fishers, stablehands, and housewives. All I said was ‘And what if we are’ or something like that. I only meant to tease your soldiers as they had done to me. Never to harm or make a fool of you. I’m sorry.” Erestor toyed with the stem of his glass. “They insulted my dignity, what little of it I have left. I was like them once: Young, brave, strong, and able to fight, trained to defend. They mocked that. I ignored them best that I could, but perhaps you understand when I say, there is a point when one goes to far, and they did just that.”
Carefully, Glorfindel considered Erestor’s words. “How would you like to continue this charade?”
“To what end?” questioned Erestor.
“To whatever end it comes to; to teach a lesson to those brats. If these are the ones I think they are, the soldiers of the city, they have long had such a thing coming. They only seem to fear me, but perhaps if they think us lovers, they might fear you as well. Think of the power you would have over them.” Glorfindel smiled to himself. “Of course, I’ll have the biggest laugh- watching them trip over each other to keep in your good graces. What say you, Erestor? Are you up for the game?”
Raising his glass, Erestor concurred. “To whatever end it comes to, aye.” And they drank to those words.
