Our Side of the World by Ulan

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Pain (G)

Erestor is overworked. Glorfindel tries to help.

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"Are you all right?"

Erestor looks up from his work and sees Glorfindel staring up at him from the desk across his own.

Glorfindel is one of Imladris' more frequent visitors. He almost lives there half the time, but Gil-galad relied on him yet for much of the work in the army that everyone regards Glorfindel still as a resident of Lindon. Erestor finds him to be an amiable sort of Elf, pleasant and thoughtful despite his status and accomplishments. It was no issue to him, therefore, when Elrond asked if he could share his office with the new captain for whenever he has to stay in the valley.

"I am fine," Erestor tells him, waving off his concern. "Just a headache."

Glorfindel frowns and regards him thoughtfully. "I thought so. You do not look well, if you would pardon me saying so. Why don't you rest for the day?"

Erestor shakes his head. "I am afraid I cannot. I need to finish this scroll before the messengers leave for Lindon tomorrow, else it shall be another fortnight before it reaches the King." Truth be told, Erestor wants nothing more than to be done with the task and lie down. It is promising to be a particularly bad day, but he supposes it cannot be helped. Things in the valley have been busy of late. Establishing new realms are always so, and with the sieges still so recent, logistics and security are always fighting for priority.

He notices the light dim in their small, shared room, and he heard along with it a swift, rustling sound. He looks up in time to see Glorfindel pulling the curtains over a good part of their office window.

"How is that?" he asks, looking back at Erestor.

There is just enough Sun light now to read the text off the parchment on Erestor's desk, but the strain in his eyes has indeed eased a little. He blinks at the thoughtful gesture. "Aye, that is better. Thank you," he says with a small, grateful nod. "You did not have to, though."

"It's all right. You should have said something earlier."

Glorfindel returns to his desk, and for a while, things are quiet again, the room filled only with the occasional scratching of quill on parchment. While on most days, such a thing would be a comfort to Erestor, it is proving troublesome that afternoon, as the relative silence is putting more focus on the throbbing in his temples and behind his eyes.

He tries to work the best he can. The matter truly is urgent and not something he can delegate to the junior councillors, and Elrond has enough on his plate. Erestor now realises he really ought to have taken Elrond's advice and slept more often than he did. It cannot be helped now, though; he shall rest when the work is done.

He starts as he hears something being placed on top of his desk. He squints up - it is difficult now to shift his gaze from one thing to another - and there is Glorfindel again, a small, clear bottle in front of him.

"Peppermint oil," says the blond Elf-lord, his brows furrowed in a small frown. "You are looking pale now. I use it for sore muscles, but it should work for tension headaches, too."

"Ah." Erestor wonders how awful he must look if Glorfindel is bothering himself with him twice now within the same afternoon. He takes the bottle and examines it distractedly. "Thank you," he sighs, and he does his best to meet Glorfindel's eyes. "I apologise if I am bothering you. Really, I am fine."

"I must beg your pardon again, Counsellor, but you do not look it." Glorfindel nods at the bottle. "Please use as much as you need. It should work best if you massage it in."

"I am not very good at such things, I'm afraid," says Erestor in kind. "Anyway, it is peppermint; it should still work even if I just rub it on my head, would it not?"

"I suppose," is the slow response. "Though in your condition..." Glorfindel regards him for a moment, a thin line still between his brows, marring that otherwise handsome face. He truly is fair even for a Vanya, thinks Erestor. He has always thought so, ever since their first meeting.

He blinks when a look of resolve settles on Glorfindel's face, and starts again when the captain makes a move to walk behind Erestor's desk.

"What are you doing?" he asks even as strong hands settle on his shoulders and pull him back. His head and back are pulled to lean against Glorfindel now, a body warm and steady behind Erestor's chair.

"Helping you feel better. You are working on something important, are you not? We should make sure you last the rest of the day."

"Evening," he corrects him. "I do not think this will be done before the dinner bell." He jumps as two thumbs press on the stiff muscles on his shoulders, just at the base of his nape. "But you really do not have to do this," he quickly adds.

"It's fine." Glorfindel reaches over to take the bottle from Erestor's hand. The sharp scent of peppermint reaches Erestor's nose shortly after that and he breathes in deeply, an unconscious thing, as his tired body seems to take what comfort it can get. "Besides, I will not be able to work with you fidgeting about and looking as though you will be ill at any moment." Though he speaks, he does so slowly, and Erestor just notices the quiet quality of Glorfindel's voice. He seems to speak carefully so as not to bother Erestor. "It is unusual, though. Does this happen to you often?"

Another gentle pull and then warm fingers press between Erestor's brows. His eyes fall closed almost immediately, and despite earlier misgivings, he cannot help but melt back against Glorfindel and those firmly pressing fingers. "Not often. It is only that I have not slept in... over a month now, I think."

"A month?" Those calming touches stop as quickly as they began. Erestor opens his eyes to wide blue eyes staring down at him. "Do you always sleep so little?"

"Nay, I sleep enough. Recently, however, I cannot squeeze in more than an occasional nap. It is just that so much has happened and we have not yet fully recovered. We are stretched thin and much of what we lack are essential things - food, plants we use for healing and treating the wounded, shelter." He heaves a heavy sigh. "We may have defeated Annatar for now, but we have lost much in that first battle, for we relied heavily on the fields of Ost-in-Edhil. Lindon and Eregion shared resources and capitalised on different industries, each specialising on specific things. We found we yielded more that way, you see. But now we must recreate what we had in Eregion here in Imladris, and with so many refugees, we cannot afford any delays."

"I see," comes Glorfindel's soft reply. To Erestor's relief, those fingers begin moving again, slow drags from the dip near the bridge of his nose and up, tracing the shape of his brows before pressing at his temples. Glorfindel's touch is warm, reminding Erestor of Elrond's healing hands, and he relaxes further at the expert touches. "I remember the King mentioned you used to head the council on trade and industry back at the main palace. I take it these things are still your problem now?"

"That job has not changed, despite the change in assignment," Erestor smiles ruefully at the thought. "If anything, it is now that my work is needed most."

"That is undeniable." Glorfindel makes slow, firm rotations now focussed at Erestor's temples. "Rest for now, then, and rid yourself of this headache so you may soon return to your work. I wish I could say I can help you with it, but ever have I been in the military while another took care of other concerns. I cannot help you with what you are doing, but I know of the aches of the body enough to heal them. Let me help in the way I can."

Erestor opens his eyes sleepily at this. He had hoped to reassure Glorfindel again and tell him that there truly is no need for him to feel as though he has to help, but he also cannot deny that what the Elf-lord is doing now relieves Erestor immensely. The more Glorfindel continues, the better Erestor feels, and he finds himself less and less inclined to refuse such a generous offer. And so, despite his more conservative judgment, Erestor closes his eyes again and leans back, letting Glorfindel chase his stress away.

With his unspoken permission thus given, it seems Glorfindel grows more confident as he dives fully into his task. Fingers comb under Erestor's hair and press firmly on his scalp, easing tension there that he does not even know he had. Glorfindel spends some time in that area, alternating between massages to the skull and long, slow pulls on his hair that Erestor feels deep in their roots. He moves down to the hairline, to the back of Erestor's neck, thumbs pressing up and down its length. Erestor's breath hitches as those thumbs press on his stiff shoulders again, over his robe, kneading the muscle and easing the knots.

By now, the oil has begun to seep into Erestor's skin, coating him in a calming mix of coolness and heat. The scent of peppermint is strong around them that it feels as though an invisible mist has descended upon them. He breathes it in, letting it comfort him from inside and out.

"This is making me sleepy," he says. It comes out groggy, but he thinks that is to be expected.

"I was about to suggest that you sleep a while," says Glorfindel as he dots a path of firm pressure down the upper half of Erestor's spine. "You will feel much better faster, and there is a good chance you shall wake up feeling completely better. Besides, if you allow me to do this properly, I think falling asleep is inevitable."

"Even if you were to stop now, odds are I still will fall asleep."

Glorfindel chuckles. "It seems like you are resigned to it, then. That is good; I thought I would have had to fight you for it. Come." He pats Erestor's shoulder. "You may as well lie down. It will be easier for me to reach your wrist that way."

"My wrist?" Erestor is distracted enough by that statement that it allows Glorfindel to pull him up to stand. He then finds himself being led to the long couch on one side of the room. "Wait, Glorfindel. I have inconvenienced you enough; you need not do this. I am fine taking a nap on my desk."

"You mean the kind of naps that are not restful, led to the stiff muscles on your shoulders and brought you to the condition you are in now?" Glorfindel sits Erestor on the couch and leaves him momentarily to pull the chair from Erestor's desk, which he then places beside the couch. "Lie down, Erestor."

Erestor feels his face heat at the words and he protests again, even as Glorfindel sits on the chair in front of him. "Really, Glorfindel. You have done more than enough. I can just sleep here."

"Do not protest too much, Counsellor, lest you grow stiff again and then we are back to where we started. Look, this is all that I will do." Glorfindel takes some of the oil in his hands again and rubs them in. He then reaches over and takes one of Erestor's hands, and proceeds to rub his thumbs along the wrist. "Trust me, it helps. I actually like this part best, but it also never fails to put me to sleep."

Erestor catches the hitch in his breath as Glorfindel rubs the oil in, the massage a little lighter this time that it almost tickles, just a little bit. He bites the inside of his lip to keep from making any sound, though he must be blushing to the roots of his hair by now. He hears Glorfindel chuckle.

"Erestor, lie down. Stop thinking too much and sleep." He does not seem to trust Erestor to move himself, for he stops and pushes him down, arranging one of the throw pillows under his head. "I will wake you if the dinner bell does not. The sooner you sleep, the more time you shall have for rest."

Finally, Erestor sighs and surrenders for the second time. What an oddly bull-headed Elf, he thinks to himself even as he curls on his side, giving Glorfindel access to his hands. Glorfindel had already begun massaging down the center of Erestor's palm.

"You know..." he murmurs as the drowsy mist of sleep begins to descend on him again. "When you first came to Lindon, I did not expect you to be so friendly."

"Friendly?"

"Hmm. You were surprisingly pleasant, given who you are, and now you even offer something like this to a colleague so readily. It is a bit much to expect from a former lord; I wouldn't even think you had it in you. But..." He covers his mouth as he yawns, and closes his eyes as Glorfindel takes his hand and gives it the same treatment as the other. "I am... glad you insisted. It feels good, what you are doing."

"Thank you, and you are welcome," he hears Glorfindel say. "I was only worried, so it actually comes as a relief to me that you let me help."

"Let you?" Erestor chuckles sleepily. "I don't remember being given a choice in the matter." He sighs and settles deeper into his pillow, already half-asleep. "But it truly is... quite kind of you."

 

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Erestor falls asleep soon after that.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping Elf, Glorfindel sits there a while longer, though the massage had stopped, seeing as the one benefiting from it is already asleep. Glorfindel leans forward with both elbows on his knees, chin resting on one hand as he observes Erestor's sleeping face. The stubborn thing, he even has his eyes closed; he is exhausted enough to require healing sleep.

Friendly, he called him. And kind. Glorfindel smiles, shaking his head.

"Did you really think I would do this for just anybody?" He says it fondly, though not without also a great deal of exasperation. He reaches out and brushes the hair away from Erestor's face, fingers lingering a moment, just a brief caress. He sighs. "What a ridiculously clueless creature."

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Chapter End Notes

I think I now headcanon Glorfindel and Erestor sharing offices in Imladris' early years, when it's not yet all big and pretty. It's sweet and convenient for stories.