The Lost Boys by Lady MSM

Get Rich Quick

Get Rich Quick

Tonight was the night, Glorfindel was sure of it. It took an extremely special occasion to make Idril wear something not sensible—which certainly described that gold, low-cut thing she had on—and Tuor had had five shots of rum, which tended to make him considerably more honest where Idril was concerned. With any luck at all, one of them would finally tell the truth about their feelings for the other, and then they could both stop being so damn miserable.

When he mentioned this to Ecthelion, however, his friend shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, old boy,” he said. “I’ve never met two people worse at talking about their feelings than Idril and Tuor. Far more likely that they’ll avoid each other all night.”

“Ah, but this is a celebration, and the start of a new year besides. I’ll bet you five gold they’ll kiss.”

Ecthelion raised his eyebrows. “Fine, I’ll take that bet, but you’ll regret it.”

And as the night progressed, Glorfindel was beginning to think he really would. Tuor and Idril, rather than falling into each other’s arms as he had hoped, barely spoke to each other, and they didn’t even dance. It was only when Tuor stepped out onto the balcony, and Idril followed him a moment later, that he began to hope again. When they finally returned about half an hour later, dazedly happy looks on both of their faces, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and Voronwe immediately pulled their young friend aside.

“Where have you been?” demanded Ecthelion.

“And what are those red smears on your face?” added Voronwe.

Glorfindel grinned wickedly. “You kissed Idril, didn’t you.”

“Well, a little,” said Tuor, reddening slightly. “Well, actually, a lot. Well, actually, that’s all I’ve been doing for the past half hour.”

Still grinning, Glorfindel turned to his oldest friend. “Pay up.”