Clay

Clay.

It was late, and Erestor had yet again been the last to retire. He walked down the empty quiet halls now; with only blissful sleep in mind that night. But he turned curiously down one of the adjacent halls, hearing an odd wiring noise and seeing a small light coming from the usually empty hall way.

He frowned when he found himself being led down towards the kitchens. It was not one of the kitchens where many an elf would be found busying in the mornings; preparing meals for those ready to start their day. But it was one of the kitchens that held great backing ovens to store pottery and clay works; to bake and harden.

This part of the house was open to any who wished to dabble; but was mostly used by those who worked there. Though, at this time of night all were usually retired. Was it possible that one of the spinning clay tables had been left turned on? And one of the lanterns lit? Erestor sighed at thought of someone being so careless, and quickly entered the room to extinguish any lights and turn off any still working tables.

But it had not been as he thought, he had walked straight into the room, thinking it empty, wherein fact there sat Glorfindel at one of the spinning tables, carefully shaping the clay with his hands. The blond had paused and glanced up when sensing someone else in the room.

“Oh, Glorfindel. I’m sorry I did not realise anyone was in here.”

“That’s alright, it’s late I thought all retired.”

“That’s what I thought, I came to extinguish the light that I thought someone had left burning, I was unaware of your presence.”

“Not many are, pottery is, shall we say a secret hobby of mine.”

“Do you always do this at such a late hour?” the advisor asked with a curious smile.

“Well I prefer to do it when no others are around. I’m not sure what some of my men would think of their captain, staying up late to make pretty vases and mugs,” he chuckled.

Erestor laughed and nodded in agreement. “I think I could understand that, most warrior’s seem disinterested in most things unless they can stick in with their big shiny swords.” Erestor had laughed, but then gently clapped his hand over his mouth seeing Glorfindel raise a brow with an amused smirk. “Forgive me, I did not mean…I meant no offence I..”

“It’s alright,” the warrior chuckled, “your words are not far from the truth.”

Erestor regarded the blond for a moment, the fabled warrior had always intrigued him. Glorfindel had always held the pretence of an easy going fellow, merry and friendly; approachable and vastly skilled in warfare. But there had always been something about him, something that had intrigued Erestor. It was in those brief quiet moments when it seemed that the warrior was simply sitting back and observing the world around him. And it was at those times that he got the distinct impression that the warrior knew something the rest of them did not, but was content not to share.

“Have you ever tried your creative hand, Erestor?”

“I can’t say that I have, not in pottery at least.”

“Well, if you are not desperate to retire to your bed any time soon, I would be happy to show you,”

The councilor smiled with a thoughtful expression. All previous intentions of sleep fleeing at the possibility of spending time alone with an elf that to him, had always stood out from all others; for reasons other than his astounding handsomeness. He wanted to say yes, and the warrior knew it, but he wanted to be coaxed, why, he did not know.

“Come…” Glorfindel moved back on the large stool and patted the space between his legs; smiling encouragingly, “…remove that robe and sit yourself down here, I think you will be pleasantly surprised,”

“Looks awfully messy,” it was also then that Erestor took a moment to take in the more than desirable look of the warrior. Glorfindel sat their, in leggings only; hair tied back and with small splattering of clay over his chest and up his arms.

Glorfindel laughed at the advisor’s hesitance to dirty up his pristine appearance, and simply patted the stall again in invitation.

Erestor bit his lip, but with a small smile entered the room and closed the door behind him. He quickly removed his outer robe and shyly sat before the warrior in naught but his leggings and sleeveless vest; glancing uncertainly over his shoulder as the warrior scooted closer. He found himself blushing at their closeness, he sat between Glorfindel’s legs, with the warrior’s arms coming around him and guiding his hands into a bowl of water beside them.

“Now, use plenty of water and gently mould the clay…don’t let it loose its shape..”

“Oh dear, I don’t think I’m very good at this…” the advisor laughed nervously as what once had been the beginnings of a beautiful vase, now began to sag in his hands.

“Here, let me work the pedal, you concentrate on what your hands are doing,”

Erestor shivered as the warrior’s leg began to move up and down beside his own as it worked the pedal that spun the small table. Nervously he returned his hands to the clay, and only just stifled a gasp as the blond’s hands joined his own in moulding the smooth substance.

Their hands were brown and slippery, they often touched and slid against each others in the gentle crafting. And Erestor swore he could feel the warrior press closer against him; the blond’s broad muscular chest, flush against his back.

Suddenly the clay within his hands completely sagged from his lack off attention.

“Oh! I hope that wasn’t a masterpiece..” he laughed nervously; looking over his shoulder with an apologetic glance.

He sucked in his breath when noticing just how close they had become, as his nose nearly brushed against Glorfindel’s when turning to face his instructor. He smiled seeing the warrior quickly avert his eyes and, what seemed for the first time, glance at the table to see what had happened.

“Oh do not worry about that, here let us begin again,”

Erestor turned his attention back to the table; a smug smile pulling at his lips when seeing the warrior’s cheeks redden slightly.

He felt the chest against his back rumble with laughter as he giggled, their hands mingled and playfully swatted at each other as they simply squished the clay between their fingers.

“Why do we not try something a little simpler this time hmm? How about a new inkwell pot for your desk?” the warrior chuckled; to which Erestor nodded as the clay began to take form in his hands.

He allowed Glorfindel to guide his hands inside the small hollow bowl that was taking shape, and followed Glorfindel’s larger hands until it was only he, who shaped the clay; as the warrior gently held his wrists.

Erestor was at that moment, engrossed in what he was doing. He did not notice the elf behind him smile adoringly, as he furrowed his brow and pocked his tongue from the corner of his mouth in concentration. And he did not notice as the warrior closed his eyes and breathed deep the scent of his pitch black hair.

“Oh, damn it,” the advisor chuckled again; as the clay in his hands folded in on itself, “I really am not very good at this.”

“It takes practice, try again,” he laughed.

Again they folded the clay in their hands; letting it seep through their fingers as they made mindless shapes. Not particularly paying attention to what they were doing, but rather chuckling as their fingers entwined; their skin slipping and sliding against each other.

Glorfindel laughed and brought his arms closer around the advisor’s smaller form, letting Erestor lean and snuggle closer against his chest as he let his hands wander up and down the dark haired elf‘s forearms and back.

“I am a state!” Erestor laughed.

“Nay you look fine, perfect even,” he finished quietly.

Erestor looked over his shoulder, their eyes locked for a brief and intense moment. Glorfindel swallowed as he glanced at the soft pouting lips so close to his own. He frowned however when Erestor grinned mischievously.

“What?” he asked warily.

“You fare little better, you have a smudge on your nose,” he giggled.

“I do?” Glorfindel crossed his eyes; frowning but smiling as he looked to the point of his nose.

Erestor bit the inside of his cheeks at the adorable sight, “yes it’s right…there!”

Glorfindel flinched slightly as the advisor playfully covered the tip of his nose with a brown smudge. He narrowed his eyes, and smiled even brighter.

“Oh you shall pay for that,” he muttered in a low voice.

For the next few minutes, laughter could be heard throughout the room as the two playfully splattered each other with clay. Erestor was half turned in the warrior’s arms so was at a severe disadvantage at the awkward angle.

Glorfindel threw his back and laughed as Erestor stared opened mouthed at him in shock when a particularly large amount of clay came into contact with the side of his face.

“Why you little…” Erestor doubled his attempts in covering Glorfindel in brown stickiness. It was when Glorfindel’s hands rested on the small of his back; his once white vest now filthy, and when Erestor registered that his hands were in fact now simply stroking up and down the muscular chest, that their giggles came to a slow halt, both now hesitant to make eye contact.

Erestor’s hands rested upon the warrior’s slick pectorals, he felt a strange shiver run through him as the chest rose and fell beneath his hands. Now silent, they both looked at where the advisor’s hands lay, and finally noticed how one of Erestor’s legs had come to lay over Glorfindel’s in the new position.

They finally ventured to look the other in the eye, and knew instantly, that they were both thinking the same thing. Slowly, Glorfindel leaned forwards; his intent obvious. With his hands at the small of Erestor’s back Glorfindel flickered nervous blue eyes to nervous brown. Seeing that Erestor was not pulling away, he closed the small gap between them and softly pressed his lips to Erestor’s.

It was a slow and languid kiss; both nervous in its exciting newness. Glorfindel tilted his head to the side as he ventured to deepen the kiss; letting his hands slowly slip beneath the vest and run up Erestor’s smooth back.

Erestor sighed into the kiss, and hummed in appreciation; feeling Glorfindel’s tongue hesitantly seek out his own. His hands lay lifeless between them, he was desperate to wrap his arms around the warrior’s neck, but did not wish to dirty his beautiful golden hair. However, when feeling the large slick hands slide up the bare skin of his back, he sought his own revenge and let his hands warp around the broad shoulders and delve into the blond tresses without a trace of guilt.

Knowing they would have to end the kiss before they got too carried away, they hesitantly pulled apart. They both smiled almost shyly at the new turn and development in their before only professional friendship.

“Hmm,” the warrior sighed with a content smile; his hands still following the curve of the advisor’s back in a gentle touch.

“That was, nice” Erestor spoke quietly; gently wiping at a smudge on the warriors cheek, “…but..”

“But what?” the warrior asked; his smile faltering slightly.

Erestor smiled and chastely once more pressed his lips to Glorfindel’s, “…but it is late, and I really need a bath,” he laughed.

Glorfindel chuckled and with a nod, helped Erestor to his feet; glad that Erestor had not dismissed him or their kiss.

Glorfindel watched as Erestor swiped up his robe and fiddled with it nervously now that it had come to departing.

“So…” Erestor began.

“Hmm,”

“Well, I will be going then..” Erestor spoke quietly before turning to leave, but paused as Glorfindel quickly spoke.

“Erestor? I…if you ever want to ah, I come here most nights, just so you know..”

Erestor smiled and opened the door to leave, just before he closed the door behind him he turned back to the warrior; who watched his every move.

“I will see you tomorrow night then.” And he closed the door behind him, but not before seeing the brilliant smile split across the warrior’s lips.

~*~*~*~

Erestor had smiled giddily as he washed the clay from his body, just as Glorfindel had smiled up at his ceiling as he lay in his own bed. The following morning Erestor had still been sporting his small secret grin as he entered his office, a grin that spread quickly into a breathtaking smile, as he spotted the small clay inkwell pot; adorned with a small ribbon upon his desk.

The end.