Our Side of the World by Ulan

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Hair (G)

Glorfindel helps Erestor get ready for a feast.

For AnnaShirou, who gave the prompt, and who always leaves such sweet and supportive comments in my stories. ♥

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Erestor knocked on his neighbour's heavy wooden door, and waited patiently in front of it as he listened for the familiar sound of movement beyond the solid oak. He needed not wait long, as light-footed steps gradually approached, and the door was opened to reveal a handsome face and a gentle smile.

"Erestor," greeted Glorfindel as he pulled the door to open wider. It revealed him wearing a beautiful set of robes as blue as the summer skies. It suited him well, bringing out the brilliant hue of his eyes. There were already braids in his hair, styled in a way that was fitting for the occasion that they were about to attend.

Erestor smiled at him. "Hello, Glorfindel. I hope I did not come too early."

"Nay, you have perfect timing. I have just finished with my own preparations, and was about to sit and wait for you when you knocked on my door."

He beckoned Erestor to come in, which the other graciously accepted with a nod before stepping inside. Glorfindel led and seated Erestor at the dressing table, a well-crafted piece that Glorfindel made himself. He had always been good with his hands, be it with a sword, with woodwork, and even this now, the very reason Erestor had come.

"What would you like?" asked Glorfindel as their eyes met in the mirror.

Erestor smiled at him and shrugged. "Please decide for me," he told the other. "I trust your judgment, for you have always looked so put together."

Glorfindel's grin was lopsided as he regarded Erestor. "I actually worried, you know. Do I do things so elaborately that Celebrían noticed and suggested we do this?"

"Worry not, my friend," said Erestor, amused. "I believe it is more a judgment upon me and the lazy way I fix my hair, which, to our lady, seems almost an affront." He chuckled as he added, "I blame her Vanyarin blood."

"We beg your pardon, oh serious Noldo," said an amused Glorfindel. "'Tis not our fault we appreciate beauty. Besides, not everyone has as many talents as you, that you do not have time for fair things and prefer the darkness and soot of your forges."

Erestor smiled and shook his head. It was a common game between them, joking about such things, for it was not long after their acquaintance that they spoke about their long lives. Erestor had been delighted to find out that Glorfindel was purely Vanyarin, for this detail was never written in their books, and coming from Turgon's host, many have come to regard Glorfindel as one of mixed blood, as most of their people were. To Erestor's reckoning, no other in Middle-Earth could claim a similar heritage as Glorfindel, for as it was, few of the Vanyar crossed over to Middle-Earth save during the Great War, and the few who had had already sailed and returned to Aman long ago. That Glorfindel was here had fascinated Erestor immensely.

They were not true, of course, the pure stereotypes about their races, and bloodlines were nothing more than an interesting detail about a person. Glorfindel was as good with his hands as any Noldorin master that Erestor knew, and had a singing voice as sweet as a Sindarin minstrel's. Still, some things about him were traditionally, delightfully Vanyarin, one of which was this - presenting one's self as a thing of beauty on special occasions, for which he and Celebrían shared a common delight.

With Erestor's blessing thus given, skillful fingers ran lightly through his hair from crown to the back of his head, combing back thick, black hair from his face. Pleasant tingles ran up Erestor's arms and he shivered at the touch, and he checked himself quickly at the tall mirror, fearing suddenly that he would blush.

Oh, he wanted Glorfindel, and nothing reminded him more of how much than times like this. It was his dearly kept secret, one almost as old as Imladris itself, for it was shortly after the beginning of the Third Age that they knew peace enough for him to think about such frivolous, indulgent things.

Yet even before this, they had been great friends in Lindon, for they found that they shared many common interests, and Glorfindel was exactly the kind of colleague that Erestor liked to work with - intelligent, diplomatic, generous, and able. He was easy to admire, for it was difficult to find anything that Glorfindel did poorly, or even anything he would refuse to do, especially for a friend. That Erestor found Glorfindel attractive was another surprise, for never had he been one to be preoccupied with such things, even in his youth. It was a novel experience, being around someone for whom he held such an opinion, and for many years Erestor kept close to Glorfindel, just enjoying his presence and pleasant company.

Erestor felt careful hands beginning to braid his hair, and he subtly took a deep breath, endeavouring to keep calm in spite of their proximity. He risked a glance up to Glorfindel's face and found him seemingly focussed and concentrated on his task. It was endearing, and really, it was difficult not to admire him like this. Glorfindel had a naturally smiling face, but serious was also a good look on him, and it never failed to cause a frisson of heat to course through Erestor. He knew he would blush if he stared long enough.

Blue eyes lifted momentarily and caught Erestor's gaze in the mirror. The movement of those fingers did not stop even as Glorfindel smiled warmly as they made eye contact, which he broke shortly after to pay attention once again to his work.

Erestor could not help but smile in return, though Glorfindel was no longer looking. Truly, Glorfindel was an easy person to love. He was always like this - open, affectionate, and he never embarrassed Erestor even though he must have caught him looking at inopportune moments hundreds of times in the past. Erestor wondered if the golden haired captain was like this with everyone, for he doubted that the other had any shortage of admirers. The silly thing had likely broken many hearts if that was so, for behaving thus made it so easy for one to hope.

And here, Erestor sighed. He reminded himself to be careful, which was something that was becoming less and less easy to do. But it would not do, not when they had something as good as their relationship now. He dared not risk it. Erestor had few friends he trusted as much as he did Glorfindel, and no other's company pleased him as much. To lose him would be unthinkable.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" he heard an amused voice say. Erestor lifted his eyes up at the mirror again and saw Glorfindel with a friendly grin.

"What interest is it of yours what I think about, Captain?" he asked primly, with a proud lift of his chin.

"If I could pay for all the thoughts that go through your head, I would offer all the gold I earn here in Arda," Glorfindel cheerfully proclaimed.

Erestor raised an eyebrow at this, but before he could speak, Glorfindel's hands were upon his shoulders, pulling him to sit straight. At first, Erestor thought that they were done, for already his hair looked good enough for one of Celebrían's formal events. Glorfindel, however, merely walked around and crouched to Erestor's right, taking a lock of hair from beneath the rest and pulling it past the other's shoulder. This, he began to braid again.

"So," said Glorfindel, his eyes on the black lock of hair in his hands. "What were you thinking about?"

Erestor, in turn, watched him, for it was a good opportunity as any. "You are really interested?" he asked, amused.

Glorfindel met his gaze. "Of course."

"I was thinking..." Erestor sighed. "I was thinking of the worth of things. High rewards and high risks, and seeking change when things are already good."

"Why would you seek change when things are already good?"

Erestor watched as Glorfindel tied the end of the thin braid with a ribbon, watching not a little wistfully as the captain took one end between his lips to keep it taut and out of the way. The things he did tested Erestor in the oddest of moments.

"Perhaps sometimes good is not good enough," he said, maybe a little dazedly, for Glorfindel had parted his lips and a pink tongue darted out briefly to wet them as he tied and tucked the end of that ribbon neatly in Erestor's hair.

Glorfindel looked at him again, this time a little longer than he previously had. For a moment, Erestor feared that he had crossed a line, revealed too much. He did not fool himself into thinking that Glorfindel was completely oblivious of his regard, but given that neither of them had made any move nor said anything, Erestor had begun to believe that Glorfindel felt safe enough with him to let things be.

Before he could say anything, however - to take it back, apologise, he did not know - Glorfindel stood and walked to stand behind Erestor again. Those large hands settled on his shoulders. "What do you think?" he asked with a smile.

Erestor breathed easier, for Glorfindel's smile was warm as it had always been. He looked at himself in the mirror. Glorfindel styled his hair almost similarly as his own. Hair was pulled loosely from the crown and the sides of Erestor's head, braided skillfully and tucked and twisted against the rest that flowed straight down his back. He rarely wore his hair down like this, but he had to admit it was not an unpleasant change. "It looks lovely," he said pleasantly. "Celebrían shall be pleased."

Glorfindel laughed. "Good. That is the goal, after all, isn't it?"

"That, and maybe other things," said Erestor with a grin. "If others find out that this was your handiwork, I would not want for admirers for the entirety of the evening."

Glorfindel did not respond immediately, and merely toyed with the single thin braid that fell down Erestor's right shoulder. "I did not know you wanted for them at all," he said slowly.

Erestor looked up at him, curious, as the other's mood suddenly seemed odd and subdued. "Well, no, I do not," he said carefully. "It was just a joke."

A poor one, it seemed, judging by the way Glorfindel was not meeting his eyes. He continued to touch the braid, though his other hand was just as distracting. It held on to Erestor's other shoulder, squeezing a little, his thumb pressing firmly on a muscle on his back.

"I'm afraid this style will not do, Counsellor," Glorfindel said suddenly. "Would you mind if I change it a little?"

Erestor looked up, surprised. "Why?"

This time, Glorfindel did meet his gaze. Erestor was struck by what now looked like resigned sadness in those eyes, so unexpected and sudden given the lightness between them just a moment earlier. Glorfindel sighed and walked in front of Erestor again, crouching down so they were level with one another. His eyes strayed to that braid, which he took once again in his hand, his touch almost a caress.

"This," he said, nodding at the braid. "It is not meant to catch admirers. It does the opposite, actually."

Utter confusion, then shock, then a flicker of hope that Erestor sought to quickly quell - these flowed through him swift and almost violent, that Erestor thought himself fortunate that he was seated. "What...?" He could not continue the question.

"Such things mean something among the Vanyar," said Glorfindel. "We wear our hair for others to see, for others to read."

Erestor dared to ask, after a moment's pause. "What does mine say, then?"

Glorfindel sighed sadly. "It says," he began slowly, but the sentence was broken again by another deep sigh. "It says, 'My heart is held by another; I must not be approached, save in friendship.'"

He looked up at Erestor, who was looking at him wide-eyed, and his laugh was humourless when he said, "Presumptuous of me, I know. Let me remove it."

He lifted his other hand to pull at the ribbon. Erestor, waking from his stupor, quickly caught those fingers and kept them still, holding tight.

"Wait," he said weakly. "Don't. I want it to stay."

He caught a fleeting sadness in Glorfindel's eyes before they fell closed, and Erestor thought the hand beneath his trembled. When Glorfindel looked at him again, his face was guarded. "Never have I doubted this, save now when you mentioned it," he said. "Now, I cannot remove it from my mind. Erestor, keep this only if what it says is true. Nay; keep it only if you are meant for me and no other, for I would not have you wear the style of my people when you are not mine."

And just like that, despite the hot sting of shock behind his eyes, causing them to water, Erestor could not help but laugh. It was ridiculous that Glorfindel would even suggest another, for ever had Erestor been his and no other's, not even before they met.

He was lost for words, however, for too much joy allowed little in terms of speech. And so his lips sought to communicate in another way, and he kissed Glorfindel, long and hard and possessively, for pent-up desire of many years was difficult to rein. Anyway, Glorfindel did not seem to mind. Warm hands cradled Erestor's face so tenderly, and that mouth from which Erestor had heard utter such kind and sweet words for him (happily, he remembered them now in a different light) now opened under his in welcome. It tasted sweeter than anything Erestor knew, and he deepened the kiss, hands straying, for now he was allowed to touch.

His fingers met with a curious thing, however, and he broke the kiss with the soft, sweet sound of lips parting as something occurred to him. "The braid," he said, pulling now a similar golden braid from Glorfindel's beautiful hair. "You said it means... But you have always worn one, for as long as I have known you."

"That sounds about right," said Glorfindel. His smile was bright. "I have worn my hair like this since the day we met."