New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
They say he and Erestor were old friends from back in Nargothrond. Well, good for them; that still does not mean that Glorfindel had to like Gildor.
He was told that they were old friends from Nargothrond. The closest of friends, Lindir even said, and with great emphasis, as though he meant for Glorfindel to glean more in this statement than what had just been said.
Lindir had been a tad insufferable lately with all the elbowing and the pointing and the commenting about how "wonderfully talented Gildor is and does he not look good beside Erestor, Glorfindel?" Truth be told, nowadays, all Glorfindel wanted to do every time he heard Gildor's name was to take up his sword and politely request the next available soldier to spar with him.
Yes, Gildor was awfully talented with the lute, and yes, perhaps he might just be the most skillful singer this side of the Sundering Sea. Glorfindel had been surprised about the enthusiastic welcome with which the wandering company was met when they arrived in Imladris, until he heard that they were mostly musicians and storytellers. Such things were indeed usually met with great joy. The greater surprise to Glorfindel, however, was to learn that their leader, Gildor Inglorion, and the Chief Counsellor Erestor were long-time friends, fellow lords in old Nargothrond, an acquaintance deep and comfortable enough for favours to be demanded.
The first time Glorfindel heard Gildor sing, therefore, was when he was half of a duet, the other half of which was Erestor, whom the old bard pulled out of the crowd for the impromptu performance. Erestor naturally fought him at first, but with naught but a whispered word in the chief counsellor's ear, Gildor had Erestor begrudgingly seated beside himself.
Glorfindel had initially been distracted by that exchange. He thought his face grew hot and there was an odd tingling at the roots of his hair as he watched Gildor whispering in Erestor's ear. He knew not what secret message Gildor had said, for he himself could not think of any secrets he knew of Erestor that could be used as leverage to gain such favours.
But all notions of curiosity flew out the window the moment he heard Erestor sing. He had a deep, melodic voice that made Glorfindel's chest swell, made him want to move closer and sit himself at his friend's feet, listening with delight and letting that sweet voice carry him to a sea of peace. For having witnessed something so rare - the stoic chief counsellor making merry and singing with the bards was not something they saw everyday - Glorfindel almost forgave Gildor for his impertinence and his complete monopoly of Erestor ever since his arrival.
After all, it was... just maybe this that was the reason why Glorfindel gradually grew to dislike Gildor. His habit of talking with Erestor and dragging him to private corners of the gardens, even inadvertently taking Glorfindel's usual seat in the dining table in his enthusiasm to continue a story he had been telling Erestor prior to the meal time bell - it was all becoming... inconvenient, especially for an Elf of habit such as Glorfindel. Gildor disrupted a steady schedule of meal times shared together, of drinks and chess games that were never formally agreed upon yet happened quite regularly anyway, nearly every evening.
Glorfindel had come to regard Erestor as his closest friend in his new life in Middle-Earth. The counsellor was delightful company, knowledgeable both of the new world as well as the old ways, and so served as the most needed bridge for Glorfindel to find his footing in his new life. He even knew how to speak the language of Valinor and indulged Glorfindel in private, conversing with him in his dearly missed Quenya. He had also guessed his old name, and it became Glorfindel's surprising and secret delight to hear it, though he never introduced himself as such anymore, had not for a very long time. It was enough that Erestor knew.
Erestor was comforting company, though these days, he was not as available as he used to be. That was all it was, really.
"Glorfindel, my good captain," said Lindir beside him before nudging his arm. Glorfindel ended up seated beside him that evening, as he was late in coming at the dinner table and his seat was, as usual, already occupied. "If I could interrupt your sulking for a moment, might I have that beautiful piece of pie that you are cruelly ignoring in favour of stabbing our esteemed guest with your eyes?"
Having grown tired of Lindir's teasing, Glorfindel pushed the plate toward the Sinda without a word. It was not that he felt suddenly self-conscious after Lindir's comment, but he just did a quick check and made sure to school his face in an expression of indifference.
Perhaps that was fortunate, as it was when he shifted his eyes back to the other table that he caught Erestor looking at him. When their eyes met, the counsellor smiled at him and raised his hand in a subtle wave before his attention was taken again by someone from his table. Oddly enough, when Erestor was no longer looking, it was Gildor who then turned to Glorfindel - and winked at him, before placing an arm around Erestor's shoulder.
Valar, what in the world did that even mean? He was insufferable.
Glorfindel heard a snicker somewhere beside him. He turned to Lindir. "What?" he finally asked him.
"Glorfindel, you are such a child. You miss him. Why not just join them? Or do more, actually, if you ever felt like it." Lindir's eyes were on the other table, spying on whatever it was that they were doing.
"I do not know what you are talking about," the captain quickly denied. "Besides I... it is good for them, is it not? Catching up, I mean. Did you not say they were good friends?"
Lindir suddenly had a pained look on his face. "I did not tell you that so you would stay away." He beckoned Glorfindel closer, and then lowered his voice as he said, "I hear they were almost more than friends in Nargothrond. You know what they say about the wisdom of Lord Finrod and how he was such a forward-thinker. Such things were rare in the First Age, yes, but if it could happen, it would be in Nargothrond, don't you think?"
Lindir sat back and looked at Glorfindel expectantly. Glorfindel, not wishing to voice the thought that entered his mind at Lindir's claim, just stared at him blankly. Lindir sighed. "Courtship, Glorfindel. They were courting."
"But--" He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "They are both males."
In a span of a moment, nearly but a blink of an eye, Lindir looked confused, annoyed, and dismayed in rapid succession. He also looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sighed dramatically and said, "You are an idiot."
Needless to say, Glorfindel stopped speaking to Lindir that evening.
"He ought to leave him alone every now and then," he told Elrond one day. From the Half-Elf's window, he could see Gildor and Erestor in the gardens, deep in conversation. "Erestor must be tired with so much of his time spent in the company of another."
"Was it not that you two used to spend every evening together until the wee hours of the morning?" came the calm response from his lord's desk. It did not even seem as if Elrond stopped writing. "If Erestor begrudged the company of a..." Elrond looked at Glorfindel briefly, before looking back down at his desk, "close friend who demands his time - which he does not - I believe I ought to reprimand you first, in that case. Only then would I move on to Gildor."
"That is different," protested Glorfindel. "I asked only for his free time. I would have gladly allowed it if he told me he was busy or wished to rest." Well, perhaps not too gladly, but... "I also do not drag him about the way Gildor does. It is rude to impose one's self so much on another, but Erestor is too polite to say so."
"He and Gildor are good friends," retorted Elrond. "I do not think he considers Gildor's presence to be too much of an imposition."
"Gildor monopolises his time these days. Erestor must hardly get any work done. He usually does not like that."
"Oh? This is news to me, as I do not see any difference in the reports he sends me." Elrond stopped writing and smiled up at Glorfindel. He looked far too amused given the topic of conversation. "Glorfindel, interesting as all these may be, I am truly too busy for the jealous complaints of my captain. If you have a problem, please discuss it with Erestor."
"I am not jealous," he quickly said. "Why does everybody think this? I am not interested in Erestor that way."
"Oh?" said his lord, feigning shock. "Why, this is news to me once again. Are you certain?"
Elrond was a fool.
Elrond, and Lindir, and the serving maid who caught him looking at Erestor at luncheon and proceeded to serve him an extra bowl of custard with what he now understood as pity in her eyes, and even Galadir, his second-in-command, who told him he would gladly have his back if he ever cared to call a duel with anyone in the valley--
Fools, all of them!
He disliked Gildor, yes, but that did not mean that it was all due to Erestor. Glorfindel had never thought it right to look at another ellon that way, not with how Gondolin had been, but Erestor... well, if it was true that Erestor did, then... well, it should still not be with Gildor. For one, Gildor was loud and obnoxious, more suited for taverns among Men and Dwarves. Erestor deserved better things. If anything, Glorfindel admired Erestor for even tolerating the bard's company, for the chief counsellor was elegant and more suited for quiet evenings and slow walks under Ithil's light. And the way he always--
"Ah, excuse me!"
The sudden crash brought an end to Glorfindel's thoughts. What he had instead was an armful of another Elf, whom Glorfindel had crashed into when he sharply turned the corner. He was only able to briefly appreciate the feeling of smooth hair between his fingers and the faint scent of tea and jasmines before the other was jumping out of his grasp.
"Glorfindel? What are you doing, thundering about the hallway?"
Glorfindel stared at the other Elf in shock. "Erestor?" Valar, what... "I was not..."
Oh, he could not speak. How could he? Erestor looked... different today, and Glorfindel could not help but stare. He supposed he had always found Erestor's features striking - handsome in the conventional sense, yes, but also more, the kind that became even more attractive as time passed - and now he even looked more so. Erestor's hair, which he usually kept in a single, practical braid behind his back, now fell in a shining, soft-looking cascade down his back, and spilling a little over one shoulder from the crash. There were a few braids in there, looped elegantly together from near his ears to the back of his head - purely ornamental, for strands of hair still softly framed his face, a few locks even falling over one of his eyes.
Apart from the hair, Erestor also wore a different set of robes. It was in black and gold, colours that were not far from Erestor's usual, but not as thick, nor so full of layers. It covered him from the high neck down to his slippered feet, but also hugged him in places where... somehow Glorfindel felt warm still at the sight of him thus clothed. The sleeves fell at the back of his hand, accenting those long fingers, but loose enough to give a glimpse of pale wrists. The cut also brought attention to his wide shoulders, his defined chest and flat abdomen, the slim, slight curve of his waist, to which Glorfindel's eyes were inexplicably drawn. Eventually, he did draw his gaze away enough to even appreciate how the robe fell straight to Erestor's feet, made his height seem more pronounced, even if he still stood half a head shorter than Glorfindel.
Finally, his gaze lifted and he did meet Erestor's eyes again. The other had a dark eyebrow raised.
"I was not thundering," Glorfindel finished weakly.
"You could have fooled me." Despite the chiding tone, there was some amusement there, so Glorfindel knew he was in no trouble.
"You look different," he said. He thought he might as well mention it, given how much it was distracting him. Because it is so out of the ordinary, he thought to add in his head.
Erestor promptly winced. "Yes, I know. I--" He looked down at himself, suddenly almost... shy? One hand played with the edge of his sleeve. "I feel a bit ridiculous, honestly. I have seen far too many ages to be doing something so childish."
"What is childish?"
Erestor looked up at him and sighed. "Dressing up?" he admitted. "It has been a while for me." His voice even came out hesitant, and Glorfindel could not help the smile that came to his lips.
"Oh, my friend. We all have the right to do so every once in a while," he said kindly. "Besides, it suits you. May I ask for the occasion, though?"
If anything, Erestor looked even more embarrassed, and there was an endeari--wholly alien blush on his sharp cheekbones. "You see, it is..." He rubbed the back of his neck, a self-conscious gesture, and he took so long in considering his words that Glorfindel thought he would not bother explaining it at all in the end. Eventually, however, Erestor did sigh, and said, "It is Gildor."
And just like that, the smile dropped instantly from Glorfindel's face, and he wished to listen no more. There was a sudden rush of heat and wind in his face and ears, and all he could think about was Lindir's words. "Courting" - was that what he called it? It must be true, then, however little it made sense in his head.
Glorfindel just stared at Erestor. He looked... wonderful, really. Breath-taking, if Glorfindel wished to be more apt. Even exquisite. For Erestor to be inspired enough to present himself in beauty beyond what he usually exuded anyway every day - Glorfindel could no longer deny the longing in his veins... and the bitterness and anger that coursed along with it.
"Glorfindel? Are you all right?"
"He is lucky," was what Glorfindel intended to say - something, at least, that would be a compliment for Erestor. Instead, he heard himself saying, "What do you see in him?"
Erestor's look of surprise must surely be mirrored on Glorfindel's face. "Pardon?"
Glorfindel, though, only found himself continuing to say, "He must have his good qualities, I am sure, but any person with eyes would know that you do not suit." Valar, it felt like floodgates opening. "He wanders and shall be gone again, while you love the walls and security of this house in the valley. You deserve someone who would stay by your side. He is loud and makes you drink, even though you never enjoyed such things unless there is good conversation or a worthy challenge to your mind, such as a game of strategy or some similar thing. The only thing he ever did right was to make you sing, but then such things are not worth it if you do not find much joy in them."
Valar, stop. He needed to stop. How does one stop this?
"What in Arda are you talking about?" Erestor looked confused for a moment, and then looked as though something dawned on him. "Oh, Glorfindel. Have you been listening to those rumours? They are not true, and I only meant that this was Gildor's idea and his handiwork." The counsellor gestured vaguely at his hair and the rest of himself. "I did not mean to say I did it for him."
"Oh," said Glorfindel, suddenly deflating. He had his mind set on Gildor. "Then, why...?"
"He somehow talked me into this... thing and told me to..." Erestor hesitated and even looked almost embarrassed again. The expression was mixed with irritation though this time. "No, never mind. Let me find that fool of a bard so I can tell him this was a bad idea."
"What do you mean?" asked Glorfindel even as Erestor turned to walk away.
Erestor turned back to look at him over his shoulder. Glorfindel could not help but notice the way his hair swayed with the movement. "Gildor is insisting that I should put myself out of my misery and just make my... love confession, or whatever he called it. Get it over with, he said. And then he proceeded to do... all this."
Whatever relief - for it had been relief, he could no longer deny it - Glorfindel felt at Erestor's denial of any romantic connection with Gildor quickly died in the face of this new revelation. 'Love confession?' he thought, distressed. There was yet another sinking feeling in his chest. 'There is another? Valar, how many Elves must one contend with?'
"I did not know you were in love. You never mentioned it." He tried to smile as he said it. It was proving difficult.
Fortunately, Erestor did not seem to notice his struggle, for he turned to face Glorfindel fully again, expressing his own distress. "Of course I would not mention it! It is silly and childish and there is no hope for it. He does not even-- I do not even know why I went along with--" Erestor cut himself off and just sighed harshly. "Please, Glorfindel. Let me go. The longer this foolishness extends, the harder the surface to which I wish to shove Gildor's head."
Erestor turned to stalk away again, his robes billowing in the breeze that streamed through the open hallway. Again, that subtle hint of jasmine - from his hair, Glorfindel realised - wafted past, and Glorfindel could not help but speak again.
"For what it is worth," he called out, making Erestor stop again in his tracks, turning around. "I think it is shame. You look lovely, Erestor. It is not that you do not look good on most days, but you have also obviously put an effort on it today, and this is the best I have seen you since our meeting. Fortunate is the one who could inspire you to be the way you are now. Whatever comes of it, I hope it would not be the last that I see you like this. It would be nice, you know? From time to time."
Erestor looked at him for such a long time that Glorfindel had to duck his head. Well, he supposed there were better ways to reveal one's self to an admired other - certainly not right after one has learned of the other's love toward someone else.
"I shall keep that in mind," he heard Erestor say before the sound of footsteps reached his ears again.
Glorfindel looked up and watched him go, silently letting out a wistful sigh. Erestor looked good even from behind, his hair flowing down like softest silk, and the shape of him, from shoulder to hip to--
Erestor suddenly stopped mid-stride, and for a moment Glorfindel tensed, thinking he had been caught looking. But Erestor only seemed distracted when he turned.
"Glorfindel," he said. "If you are not doing anything tonight, I would like to seek your company for the evening."
"You know I am usually free in the evenings, Erestor," Glorfindel said. "I usually spend them with you, after all. Why such formality?"
Erestor's eyes briefly lifted, which Glorfindel recognised as his way of gathering patience when faced with someone particularly slow. He was almost offended, except he truly was confused.
"Never mind that. Please come to my rooms. I will have dinner ready. I know it is earlier than when we usually meet, but..." Erestor trailed off, and just took a deep breath. "Just please come."
He turned away again and began walking.
"Wait!" Glorfindel waited until Erestor had turned back to him. Again. "What about your confession?" he asked.
Erestor regarded Glorfindel with a partly exasperated expression. He looked displeased, and he folded his arms in front of him. "Cannot wait for tonight, Laurefindil?"
For some reason, the old name caused Glorfindel to blush. "What?"
"If you are done ruining my plans, please excuse me while I hyperventilate in the gardens."
"What?"
"I have a wandering bard to slay, I said."
Despite himself, a huff of surprised laughter escaped Glorfindel. "You did not even bother making those two things rhyme."
Erestor sighed. "Glorfindel. This has been a most stressful encounter, for while I had my mind set on telling Gildor what a fool he is, I still somehow find myself trudging along on his ridiculous suggestion. Now, if you do not mind, I shall take my leave, so that I have some hope of being presentable for my engagement this evening."
Glorfindel wanted to tell him he looked presentable just as he was now, that he had always been wonderful, even before all this. Oddly, he also wanted to apologise, for it was now only slowly beginning to dawn on him what it all meant - Lindir's hints (and white lies, for he might even just be the source of that rumour in the first place), everyone else's behaviour, even Gildor pulling Erestor every time Glorfindel approached and taunting him with those looks. Aiya, he had been a fool.
Oh, but then - dinner. In Erestor's rooms, with him looking the way he did. And if Glorfindel understood this exchange right, Erestor did this for no other than...
He never knew excitement like this. For a moment, he also knew a hint of fear, for although he had some inkling of his own inclinations long ago, he never thought he could find happiness in it, or even hoped to find someone who would be the same. He was no longer in Gondolin, though, and there was indeed someone, and he was wonderful, and beautiful, and intelligent, the one person Glorfindel had been drawn to from the moment he stepped foot once again in Middle-Earth.
He was also the same person who was now marring his handsome face with a pained expression as he waited for Glorfindel.
Humbled, touched, and not a little too happy because of it all, Glorfindel could not keep the smile from his face even as Erestor scowled at him. Knowing when the other was at his limit, the captain quickly gathered himself. He was only barely able to keep the laughter from his voice as he bowed and said, "Farewell then, fair Erestor. I look forward to this evening."
For a moment, Erestor looked like he was about to hit him, or throw something at his head. Good thing the hallways were clear of potential projectiles; Erestor could really be high-strung sometimes. Still, he was... endearing.
Erestor left without a word.
Glorfindel watched him until he disappeared at the other end of the hall, his heart thundering in his chest. Not without his own nerves, he then took off to the opposite end at a run. He had an evening meeting to prepare for, after all.