Friends first.

Title: Friends first.
Author: Fishy (fishyz9@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Beta: Keiliss
Notes: AU, Slash,
Summary: None of us are meant to be alone.

Friends first.


There were rumours that he had been a merry fellow, but who were they to judge him, this hero who had been to unknown depths and back. They were in no position to be sceptical and he did not deserve the lingering, questioning looks that so often followed and shadowed his every step. Yet…Erestor was not completely innocent of such discourtesy himself. He *did*, however, have the courtesy not to stare openly. He would glance out of the corner of his eye when no other was looking, and he would take that moment to ponder, sigh, and merely wonder.

A mystery, that was what he was, that was all that he represented. Glorfindel simply intrigued him; there was nothing more to it. Being a grown elf, and master of lore, he was naturally drawn towards what Glorfindel was, where he had been, and the things he knew that no others did. Erestor lived for knowledge and learning, and Glorfindel, well, he was a piece of history in present day, as real and as solid as Erestor himself, not bland or lifeless as parchment, discoloured with age. Though, perhaps, listless maybe?

That there was something wrong with him was plain to see. He did not….fit, though Erestor could see with great sympathy that the warrior tried, truly he did. He watched with sad eyes as Glorfindel attempted to engage with others, attempted to become a part of the world around him, but he simply did not fit. The others were too curious, too awe struck and, unknowingly, on guard around what they thought of as an entity to notice.

‘He is just an elf!’ Erestor would inwardly shout and chastise. ‘Leave him be and take him off the pedestal you have placed him upon. He needs to be among us, unnoticed and a part of us, not left alone to be admired and watched as you so unwittingly do!’

And yes, that was exactly what this elf was; lonely, alone, and without any other. Now Erestor was a quiet and solitary elf himself, but he stood within the walls that had always been his home, he passed others by, nodding politely to the elves that he had known most of his life. So, although Erestor kept to himself, he was calm and secure, and never really alone.

What did Glorfindel have?

These were not his walls. Passing elves would not nod but bow, and follow his form as he walked by. This was not even his time; Erestor did not doubt that the air must smell differently to him, the sun must be just that little too bright and the darkness too deep. Even the stars had rearranged themselves in his absence. So it was that he was left with no point of origin, no direction in which to follow, and without company as he aimlessly wandered his new surroundings and tried to find something, anything, to secure him to the spot. Something to keep from being blinded by that bright sun, and lost in that deep dark.

And what really got to Erestor was that he bore it with such a disciplined sense of duty. He stayed and dropped his head as others watched him. He turned away and pretended not to hear the whispers. He had been returned by their creators and even he, a fearless slayer of demons, a fallen warrior, must humbly abide to the will of the great and mighty.

But was that what he was? Fearless? Not completely. Against the foes and evils of this world, perhaps. But against the silence in his chambers at night? Against the sound of his singular footfalls in an empty passage? No, Erestor did not think so.

Erestor shook his head, a lore master’s interest indeed. There was more, and he felt a hypocrite for it. For there were those who were not fascinated by Glorfindel for his reputation alone, there were those who followed his lonely gait for another, less honourable, reason.

He was exceptional; more than just your average handsome. He had such a charm about him that it transformed Erestor’s attraction to that of a young and love struck maiden. Which was absurd for, of course, he was neither. There was just…. something about him, something that had earned Erestor’s utmost respect and even affection, though they had only ever shared a few formal words at best. It was not the same sort of respect that others held for him, no. It was not driven by awe and duty. He respected Glorfindel because, despite the loneliness that apparently only he could see coming from him, he still tried. Glorfindel still tried.

He had watched Glorfindel in his subtle attempts to…‘fit in’, so to speak. And he had sighed on the warrior’s behalf each time that he had failed.

The Hall of Fire, he knew, was a place that Glorfindel did not enjoy. It was a place to gather and make merry and even Erestor would attend at times, and even go so far as to enjoy himself. But for Glorfindel, it must be a slap in the face, a reminder of how out of place he was in such a homely and friendly atmosphere.

He had watched Glorfindel as he would nervously tap the side of his glass and, with an unsure stride, approach a small band of elves who sat and made merry together. He would nod and smile uncertainly in greeting, hoping to merely be accepted amongst them and to melt into their background, to listen and laugh along with their conversation. Erestor could always see the disappointment in those blue eyes as the ones he approached would stand and offer their seats with a bow while their easy banter would cease in the presence of the famed warrior. And he had seen Glorfindel’s shoulders sag as he politely declined and retreated back to a far and unoccupied corner of the hall.

Erestor shook his head again; it was unfair.

“You disagree, Erestor?”

Erestor snapped his head up, and left his day dreams behind as the sound of his lord’s voice brought him back to the present; to their daily council.

“I… nay, forgive me, please go on,” he answered quickly as he sat straight in his chair and waved his hand absently for them to continue. He received a single curious look from his lord, and the council continued. In truth he had lost the thread of the conversation a while ago, but was not overly worried as they spoke of nothing he did not already know.

When all eyes were turned away from him, he slouched gracelessly back in his seat. Glancing to his left then, he was surprised to see the protagonist of his thoughts looking his way, only to quickly avert his eyes. He grinned and raised a brow as Glorfindel hesitantly glanced back, and then imitated Erestor’s slouched position in his own seat, realising that, for once, all eyes were not on him. They then exchanged grins, realising that they shared one other’s boredom.

Here, too, in the council room, he felt sympathy for Glorfindel. Having the title of Captain, it was necessary Glorfindel be present at meetings, just as it was so for him, the chief councilor. He doubted that one such as Glorfindel, who was obviously made to be worshiped by the sun, enjoyed formalities such as these meetings. Luckily, the room that day was fairly full, and therefore the lack of attention in one councilor and one Captain could go easily unnoticed.

Glorfindel ruffled the papers before him quietly as he grinned back at Erestor with a curious and almost child like interest.

‘Boring’ Erestor mouthed, and chuckled quietly as Glorfindel covered his smile with the back of his hand and cleared his throat

He had never seen such a smile before, it was not dazzling or even wide, but it was genuine; the first such he believed he had ever seen grace the warrior’s lips. He had never seen anything so wonderful.

After what seemed an age, the council was adjourned. Erestor gathered his parchments and made to leave the room, but paused when seeing Glorfindel standing in the doorway. He smiled softly at the sight of him standing there uncertainly, rearranging his papers under his arm, whilst glancing at the chief councilor and trying to look as casual as possible.

When Erestor walked towards him, the warrior dared a small smile and even moved to meet him half way. When another advisor stepped before Erestor to speak of the council, Glorfindel paused in his stride, looking about him in discomfort now that the elf he had hoped to spark up a conversation with was talking to someone else. He sighed a little disappointedly, and turned around to leave.

“Glorfindel, could you wait a moment?” Erestor asked from over the other advisor’s shoulder.

Glorfindel waited, and watched as Erestor tactfully dismissed the other advisor and headed towards him.

“I swear, he corners me after every meeting,” Erestor chuckled, coming to stand before the warrior.

Glorfindel nodded and smiled; after all his pining for friendly companionship he was suddenly at a loss for words.

“So - ah, being Captain has its downfalls then?”

“Uh…” Glorfindel replied, intelligently.

“Even I do not enjoy these meetings, and this is my job,” Erestor jested.

“Do you not?” Glorfindel replied, in an obvious attempt to keep the conversation going.

This was all too clear to Erestor, and the almost desperate plea for company in those blue eyes touched him deeply. He did not reply but simply smiled and headed towards the doors, nodding for Glorfindel to join him.

“Do not misunderstand me, I enjoy my job, but it definitely has its ups and downs”

“And I though I was the only one,”

Erestor chuckled, and was actually disappointed to discover they had already crossed the short distance to his office doors.

“Well, you must have work to attend to,” Glorfindel began, a tinge of sadness touching his tone.

“Aye, I do.”

Glorfindel nodded then, and turned to leave.

“Glorfindel?”

“Yes?” he replied hopefully as he turned back to face Erestor.

“I have work to do now, but if you have naught to do later…”

“I don’t…. nothing.”

“Then perhaps you would like to join me for a drink?”

“I would like that very much,” Glorfindel smiled. “What time? Where should I meet you?” he asked quickly.

“Well, there’s the library, the Hall of Fire…”

“Your rooms?” the warrior asked quickly, and Erestor immediately chastised himself for suggesting such public places where Glorfindel would undoubtedly feel uncomfortable.

“Aye, my rooms.”

“Very well then,” Glorfindel replied brightly. “I will see you then. Oh...” he suddenly added, as if remembering something important. “Should I…. would you like me to bring anything?” He asked this unsurely, and Erestor smiled, realising just how long it had been since the warrior had spent the evening with another.

“Tell you what Glorfindel, you bring your favourite wine, and I’ll open a bottle of mine. We’ll meet somewhere in the middle and compare,” he shrugged, and grinned as Glorfindel actually laughed. Such a small sound, but it meant the world to him.

“Alright then, in a few hours,” he agreed with a nod, and turned to leave.

Erestor opened the door to his office, and looked back upon hearing his name called.

“Erestor?” Glorfindel asked, from a few feet away.

“Yes?”

“You are the only one to not address me as a Lord.”

And before Erestor could reply, Glorfindel turned and left.

~*~

Erestor had stopped himself from dressing in his best, reminding himself that it was just a casual sort of evening where two people would share a glass of wine and good conversation, nothing more. So when he answered the door in plain leggings and shirt, he felt an underdressed fool compared to Glorfindel.

The warrior had braided his hair beautifully, though it was not the style he usually wore, and which Erestor had always personally admired. He also wore a tunic and leggings to match that were both flattering and nearly formal in their pristine condition. It was then that Erestor became painfully aware that he, on the other hand, was not even wearing shoes.

“Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Here, ah, this is my favourite vintage, as requested,” Glorfindel said, as he handed the bottle over to Erestor. “What? What is so funny?” he asked, when hearing Erestor snigger.

“May I compliment you on your choice, my friend,” Erestor chuckled, as he picked up an identical bottle he himself had chosen for the evening.

Glorfindel laughed, and Erestor sighed at that sound of it. How something so small and quiet could
make him smile so, he knew not.

“Come and sit, make yourself comfortable, and tell me of the rest of your day while I open one of these.”

Glorfindel looked about the room with a curious eye. It was cosy, warm, and inviting, so different to his own bare rooms. As soon as Erestor’s back was turned he looked down at himself and bit his lip, realising he had overdressed.

Making sure Erestor’s back was still facing him, he quickly pulled off his outer tunic and causally rolled up the sleeves of the shirt he had spent an hour picking out. He sat on a large and rather comfortable sofa beside a warm fire, repeating one word in his mind.

‘Friend’. Erestor had called him a friend.

“Here you are.” Erestor handed the warrior a full glass, and grinned when noticing his sudden
casualness of dress. “So, tell me of your day.”

“Well…”

~*~

It had been a good evening, marvellous and wonderful in its simplicity. Glorfindel was constantly smiling now and, Erestor had to admit, so was he. He never would have suspected that he and Glorfindel would get on so well. Their conversation came easily, and there was a relaxed atmosphere between them, even in the small spaces of silence. Throughout it all, though, Erestor would feel that nervous flutter in his stomach, reminding him that his affections towards this elf were not entirely of the comradely nature.

He managed to keep himself from running his hand through his hair, from smiling coyly yet suggestively over his glass. He managed this, but with great difficulty.

“So, Golden Tress. I wonder how your parents ever came up with such a name,” he jested.

“Aye,” Glorfindel chuckled and examined a lock of hair, “They put much though into it, obviously.”

“You ah, you look different, though I can not quite put my finger on it,” Erestor lied.

“Oh, I just braided my hair differently. This is how the Imladris guards wear it….isn’t it?” Glorfindel
finished quietly as he again examined one of the braids, clearly unsure if he had gotten it right.

“Oh aye, aye. I see now. Though…”

“What?”

“Well, what was wrong with the way you wore it before?”

“’Twas not an Imladrian way to wear it,” he shrugged, sipping at his wine.

“What does that matter?”

“Well, I am Captain of this haven. I think I ought to show some sign of belonging here, don’t you?”

“Glorfindel...” Erestor reached across from his end of the small sofa, and laid his hand upon the
warrior’s. He smiled, and spoke without a trace of condescension. “Just wait for them, the novelty will
wear off soon. For some at least, I promise.”

He smiled a small smile then, and nodded, nothing more. He did not wish to speak of it, and Erestor’s
words were enough for the moment to set his mind at ease. He looked about the room then, and a
smile split across his face on spotting something upon one of the many shelves.

“Quelleg!” he exclaimed suddenly, and stood from the couch to examine the game that sat upon the shelf. “I have not played Quelleg in years!”

“Would you like to play?” Erestor smiled.

“Do you know how to? This is an old game from years past.”

“Oh, aye. You see, history and basically anything to do with the ways of old has always intrigued me. I
came across a description of this game in an old and battered book and had one made the very next day, though I’ve never come across anyone who knew how to play before.”

“Oh,” Glorfindel replied after a thoughtful pause.

“What’s wrong?” Erestor looked up from pulling a small table before the sofa to set the board upon. He frowned when Glorfindel laughed in a humourless way.

“You must be fascinated by me then, more so than any of the others I dare say.”

“What? Oh…. Oh!” Erestor stood straight and held out his hands as he walked towards the warrior. “Oh no, Glorfindel, that is not why…”

“Actually, ah, it’s rather late, and I have to be up early tomorrow. I should probably call it a night.”

Glorfindel swooped up his tunic from the armrest of a chair and made as if to leave whilst pulling his
crumpled sleeves down.

“Good night, Lord Erestor.”

“Lord Erestor, why the title?”

“Because any abbreviation of that would be something, something used between friends. Good night.”

“Now just wait one second!”

Glorfindel stood still, surprised at the commanding tone.

“Sit down,” Erestor ordered and, slightly taken aback, Glorfindel did so.

There was silence between them as Erestor sat himself down closely beside the warrior, and regarded him sternly, then sighed and, as he spoke, reached forwards and began to unravel the Imladrian braids.

“I admit you greatly interest me. But not just because….not for the reason you think.”

He combed his fingers through the hair until it ran smoothly.

“And whether you like it or not, we are friends now.”

“Well, don’t I get a say in that?”

“Afraid not,” Erestor shrugged. “I like you too much.”

Glorfindel gave a slanted smile then, and rolled his sleeves back up.

“Now, you will braid your hair as you wish, you will beat me hands down in Quelleg. and, oh…” He shook his head with an amused grin, “…you will stop trying to pronounce my name with a Sindarin accent. You
have an old Quenya accent, and I adore it.”

The warrior flushed. “I was just trying to…”

“Fit in?” Erestor asked softly. He rested his hand upon the warrior’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, resisting the urge to reach up and stroke loose blond strands behind an ear point. “In this room, my friend, you do. Now, set up the board.”

Glorfindel regarded him suspiciously for a moment longer, before smiling at his new friend and setting up the board.

“So…. adorable, huh?”

The advisor flushed.

~*~

They had played into the early hours of the morning. They had laughed until tears stung their eyes, and they had sat in thoughtful silence and concentration, as Glorfindel taught Erestor all he knew of the game they played. And, after draining the second bottle of wine, it was with great regret that Glorfindel had taken his leave.

Erestor claimed that his stomach growled and, therefore, walked with Glorfindel to his quarters, which were luckily, in the same direction as the kitchens. When they came to the point where their paths separated, they paused and turned to each other.

“I was thinking, would you perhaps like to…maybe, make this a regular occurrence?”

“Tomorrow eve; you bring the wine, I’ll set up the board.”

Glorfindel grinned and, to Erestor’s amusement, he seemed at a loss as to how to say good bye for the eve. Finally, Glorfindel pulled Erestor into a friendly embrace. They patted each other on the back, and grinned into the other’s hair. When pulling away, though, their smiles faltered as their lips seemed to accidentally become perilously close.

Glorfindel stared down at the soft-looking lips so close to his own, and his hands unconsciously fell to rest around the advisor’s waist. Slowly he tilted his head, and leaned forwards, their noses lightly brushing each others, and their lips close enough to touch. Erestor closed his eyes and tilted his head up, ready and oh so eager. He opened his eyes though, as the warm breath he had felt upon his mouth disappeared, and soft lips brushed his cheek. He smiled up at Glorfindel, completely understanding. Friends first, friends first.

“Good night, Erestor. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, my friend.”

Erestor watched Glorfindel disappear down the corridor, and smiled contently. The kitchen forgotten, he headed back to his own rooms. He had been glad that the sounds of his footfalls had accompanied Glorfindel’s lonely ones. And he hoped that perhaps one day he would chase away the silence in his chambers also.

The End.