And There Was Trouble Taking Place

Chapter 3



Imladris, three days later





For a while, things in Imladris continued as before. Glorfindel trained with his guards, Elrond and Erestor spend a lot of time in the library together running the everyday life. Correspondence with other elven realms took a big part of their time. Quests from all over the Middle-Earth streamed in; there were dwarves in business, men too and even a hobbit found his way over to Rivendell and its legendary lord. Among the guests that arrived was Legolas Thranduillion, the prince of Mirkwood, delivering a message from his father.



Why, oh why, did I not find myself infatuated with Legolas? Glorfindel groaned to himself. Surely, Thranduil’s suspicious, fatherly glares would have been easier to confront than the thought of loving Erestor. Glorfindel stood on his balcony, leaning on the railing and watching the twins rush to greet Legolas, their long-time friend. The prince was a renowned archer among the elves of Middle-Earth and almost as famous for his insatiable tastes in bed. He had a reputation of never turning down an intriguing offer and never returning to a bed he had already visited.



The twins managed to wrestle Legolas to the ground and they were all rolling around in the grass, laughing. Despite his dirty predicament, the prince’s pale golden hair shone in the sunshine and Glorfindel could imagine the silky smoothness of it. He was sure it would be wonderful to feel the archer’s strong arms around him in a loving embrace. Aye, he should have chosen Legolas. The prince would have been a wise choice.



The idea of being in love with Erestor, of all elves, was so strange -frightening really, if Glorfindel was honest to himself- that he had not done anything about it. He thought that one or two nights of good sleep would cure him of this madness. Certainly, he had just witnessed a magical moment and that affected his view on Erestor.



However, it was no use. Glorfindel had been the first to fall victim to the more or less subtle changes in Erestor and smitten he remained. Three days had passed since their fight with the orcs and return to Imladris, and Erestor’s magnetism was becoming plain to everyone. It had started at once when they had arrived at the stables on that fateful evening. One hostler had insisted on carrying Erestor’s personal belongings to his quarters. When Erestor had finally relented, the elf had followed him inside the Last Homely House, his arms full of bags and parcels and a love-struck expression on his face.



Glorfindel had watched the advisor, trying to figure out what had changed. It was not any one thing he could pinpoint, more as if everything about Erestor seemed stronger, more pronounced. If his lips had earlier been soft pink, now they called you with the colour of ripe strawberries. When you stood next to him, his scent enveloped you like a curtain and isolated you from everyone and everything but Erestor. His hair was the colour of a starless night in the dead of winter, when it before had been only black. But was that enough to attract elves like a fire attracted moths? Glorfindel wondered and looked around the busy yard below him.



Legolas and the twins had disappeared and a servant was taking Legolas’ horse to the stables. Seeing the beautiful animal made Glorfindel realize he desperately wanted to feel the wind in his hair and Asfaloth under him, he had to go for a ride. It would serve to clear his head of thoughts of Erestor. It seemed lately he did nothing but daydreamed of eyes the colour of midnight. He felt ghosts of touches of long delicate fingers when sitting alone in his bath. He had not gotten decent rest since they returned, but instead spent sleepless nights in his lonely bed, tossing and turning, pictures of the enchanting counsellor -red lips parted, back arched in pleasure- invading his mind and keeping him from rest. A long ride with Asfaloth was probably just what he needed.



If Glorfindel’s nights had been almost nightmarish, then his days had indeed not proven to be much better. Just yesterday morning, they had sat with Elrond behind Elrond’s desk in his study and gone through the border patrol reports when Erestor had flowed in. There was no other way to describe his entrance; the counsellor wore a robe of black silk that moved on his lithe body as if the cloth was dancing around him. Glorfindel’s mouth started to water looking at the delectable curve of Erestor’s ass, accentuated by the smooth robes, but a very different thing captured Elrond’s attention.



Glorfindel felt a tug at his sleeve and when he turned to look at the Lord of Imladris, Elrond pointed first to his eyes and then to Erestor. Glorfindel quirked an eyebrow and Elrond began to frantically draw circles in the air around his eyes with a finger and then gestured towards Erestor. Glorfindel just looked at his lord and slowly shook his head. Elrond raised both his eyebrows and took a calming breath. Then he made a show of dipping his feather pen in the inkbottle and yet again drew circles around his eyes, this time with unhurried, deliberate movements, and again pointed to Erestor. Glorfindel felt and obviously also looked dumbfounded because Elrond threw his hands in the air, rolled his eyes and sighed. Then he smiled and called to Erestor, who seemed unaware of the attention he was receiving.



“Erestor, could you find me Thranduil’s last letter about exchanging guards? Glorfindel feels that with the rising darkness the experience gained in Mirkwood would benefit our guards greatly and that we should perhaps give into a couple of Thranduil’s demands in order to make that happen. I cannot remember what his latest impossible requirements were.” Thranduil insisted his guards had nothing to gain by joining the patrols of the other elven realm because Mirkwood was constantly under attack from spiders and orcs and thus his men already received the best training possible.



Erestor got up from behind his desk and walked over to a cabinet. He bent down to open the lowest drawer his back to the two lords of Imladris intently looking at him. Glorfindel felt an all-telling stir in his groin. He must have whimpered because Elrond turned to look at him strangely and then broke into a wide grin. Glorfindel felt defeated, it was obviously no use trying to hide his feelings from Elrond. He glared at his lord instead. And then the counsellor was standing in front of Elrond’s desk with the asked-for scroll in his hands.



“Would you like me to recite Thranduil’s requirements to you or did you just need me to bring you the scroll, my lord?” Erestor’s melodious voice was low and seductive like warm honeyed wine, and both Elrond and Glorfindel looked up.



Glorfindel’s jaw fell when he saw what Elrond’s insane pantomime had been about. Erestor had lined his eyes with black. That was most uncommon. Only a very few elves wore make-up and none of them were male.



Erestor possessed the darkest eyes Glorfindel or anyone in Imladris had ever seen. They had countless times been described as bottomless pools of black ink -a fitting portrayal in Glorfindel’s opinion, if somewhat lacking in the poetry he felt the object of said description deserved. Erestor also had the most ridiculously long lashes and elegantly arched eyebrows the same midnight colour as his hair. The worst thing you could say about Erestor’s eyes was that they were only beautiful. With the black lines drawn around them, gracefully accentuating their slightly feline shape, the effect was mesmerizing. Glorfindel was drowning, sinking like a stone in the Bruinen.



Asfaloth brought him back to reality with its whinnying. They had returned from the ride and stood in front of the stables. Glorfindel’s last recollection was getting on Asfaloth and riding out of Imladris. From there on, he had been lost in thought.



“Thank you, old friend. I can always count on you.” He said as slid from Asfaloth’s back. “Where did we go?”



The horse nuzzled him as if trying to tell him their destination. They understood each other perfectly, but without words some things were not possible. It did not really matter, he trusted Asfaloth to keep him safe, to take him to familiar places. What did matter was that he felt better, more like himself. Asfaloth’s presence was always calming and the crispy spring air had helped him clear his head.



That was until Erestor walked in the stables and interrupted Glorfindel taking care of Asfaloth. “My dear seneschal, would you like to join me for a walk in the gardens tonight?”



Glorfindel just nodded and followed Erestor out of the stables.



They strolled around, enjoying the silence and the beauty surrounding them, both reflecting on thoughts surprisingly similar. Glorfindel was thinking about how he could kiss Erestor without making a complete fool out of himself and Erestor wondered how to get Glorfindel to kiss him. In the end, Erestor proved to be the one with more initiative and he stopped walking.



“I would have you kiss me, Glorfindel.”



Erestor’s words took a moment to register with Glorfindel and when they did, he whirled around to find Erestor standing a few steps behind him. Erestor was looking at him from under his eyelashes and there was nothing shy in his gaze.



Glorfindel closed the distance between them and brought his lips to Erestor’s. The kiss began gentle, lips barely touching. Erestor opened his mouth slightly, inviting Glorfindel to take control of the kiss, to deepen it. Glorfindel pulled Erestor closer and started the kiss anew.



Erestor pressed his body tight against Glorfindel and gave the kiss all he had. During the last few days, he had started to notice strange things about himself -having indecent thoughts about Glorfindel being one of them. He felt drawn to the raw masculinity of the seneschal. That had never happened before. Erestor prided himself for his ability to stay detached in the face of great beauty, but that safe haven appeared lost to him. He thought about Glorfindel a lot and decided he would not necessarily be a bad addition to his list of lovers. No such list existed yet, but Glorfindel would have the honour of being the first one on it. Yes, Erestor even hoped that everything would work out with Glorfindel because he could see them together for a long time. At that moment, however, the counsellor’s determination was on the list and making it happen.



Parting his lips more, Erestor used his tongue to tease Glorfindel’s to follow it. He tasted Glorfindel, wrapping his tongue around his. The feeling was exquisite and he moaned into the kiss. Mmmm. Maybe he would have to make Glorfindel also the second on his list. And third and fourth and…



Feeling overwhelmed by Erestor’s hunger Glorfindel broke the kiss and took a step back. “Erestor, we have been friends for millennia, have we not?”



Puzzled, Erestor looked at him, licked his lips, and then nodded.



“And we are equals as well, would you not agree? Equals with stations of similar importance in Elrond’s household; you as the chief counsellor and I as the head of guards?”



Again, Erestor nodded, clearly not knowing where Glorfindel was going with his questions, but suspicious of them all the same.



“Then let us speak as equals, for only equals have the luxury of truth. We shall be friends forever and maybe lovers one day but we both know that friends and lovers lie endlessly out of regard for each other. Tonight I would hear and speak the truth. Only honesty for one night?”



“Only honesty.”



“So my dear, dark Erestor, what is it that you are after? For I will not lie with you in dishonesty.”



Erestor blushed, and tried to hide behind the black curtain of his hair. Glorfindel would have none of it and, as he cupped Erestor’s chin to look into the pitch black eyes, heard the counsellor mumble something unintelligible.



“I can not hear you, friend. Remember, no lies.” Smiling, Glorfindel reached out and pushed one particularly unruly lock of hair behind Erestor’s ear.



“I am unbedded.” Erestor answered, as if that explained everything.



“You are unbedded?” Glorfindel felt the urge to laugh but knew that Erestor would not take it kindly. “And you felt that I would be the perfect elf to rid you of this burden?”



Erestor’s earlier assertiveness seemed to have deserted him completely and once again, he only nodded, too embarrassed to speak.



“I feel honoured and I admit that a week or two ago I would have been your ideal choice. I would have worshipped your body, tasted every inch of your skin. I would have made you beg with need. But the situation has changed and even as I find in me the desire to deny you nothing, this one thing I must. For the sake of my heart. For I have fallen in love with you, my dark one. Hopelessly, it seems.”



Erestor watched in wide-eyed wonder and only when he felt Glorfindel’s questioning gaze on him did he think that if he didn’t explain himself he’d lose Glorfindel forever in that moment in the garden.



Glorfindel continued before Erestor was able to open his mouth. “Would it help if I shared my knowledge on the subject? I guess not; you need to experience love in all its forms yourself.” Glorfindel answered himself without giving Erestor a chance to. “But make no mistake; there will be no one better than I. Not for you, for true love will make everything brighter, stronger. And why would you choose to bathe in the tepid waters of others when you can burn yourself clean in the flames of my love?” Glorfindel showed Erestor what he meant with a kiss so full of desire and longing that Erestor felt like fainting. His head was spinning and he knew he would never get enough of this.



“You kiss as many as you want to, love as many as you need to, seron vell (beloved), for when you have made up your mind, I will still be here. I will still love you.” Wanting to kiss him once more, Glorfindel took Erestor’s chin between his long fingers, and angled the beautiful face to slightly look up to his own. He admired the enchanting sight and lowered his lips. Glorfindel put in play all the knowledge and experience learned in the few thousands of years he had spent on Middle-Earth.



Breaking the kiss Glorfindel saw tears on Erestor’s cheeks. “None of that, dear counsellor. Emotional blackmail does not become you. You made your bed and now you have to sleep in it, though I have to say the less sleeping you do, the sooner we can put this whole thing behind us. Now, I believe you have experiences to gather. I wish you the best of luck.” With that, Glorfindel turned round and left the garden, leaving a very confused chief advisor behind him.





TBC...