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Istari Love
Disclaimer: this installment is for the sole purpose of entertainment both the author and the readers.
I do not intent to make money of it, so please don't sue me.
All characters unless noted otherwise are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Pairing: Gandalf/Saruman, Glorfindel/Erestor, Glorfindel-Gandalf-friendship
Beta-read by Cara, all remaining mistakes are intended and for the amusement of the valued reader.
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The Balrog-slayer knocked hesitantly at Erestor’s private chambers. He carried a bottle of red wine because he had thought it was a good idea to have their talk started in a rather relaxed environment.
Inside Erestor froze at the sound of knuckles rapping on his door.
The Counselor had spent his evening fretting over the course of their discussion. Where should they sit? His rooms were utterly designed for one person; one comfortable armchair, one wooden chair at his desk. He never had visitors except for Legolas during the past years, and the youth had usually lounged on Erestor’s large bed.
Should he offer some snacks? Sweet? Salty? In the end he settled for both.
And ai! What to wear? Something formal – after all they were discussing the education of Legolas. But he wouldn’t feel comfortable in those thick robes. In his rooms he usually relaxed in his sleeping-robe which was – of course! completely impossible. His old leggings, then. Ai, they were tight and he almost felt naked. A dark blue tunic with long sleeves and a pair of soft suede boots completed his outfit.
He had just been busy arranging the chair and armchair in front of the fireplace when Glorfindel arrived. //Now you don’t have any more time to be nervous!// why WAS he nervous, to begin with?
The door cracked open. “Ah you.... come in.” Erestor’s usually calm demeanor showed signs of stress as he invited Glorfindel to have a seat. The Gondolindrim noticed that Erestor had truly made an effort for this evening’s meeting.
“Oh, I brought some wine. Here.” He handed Erestor the bottle he’d ‘borrowed’ from Elrond’s private stack.
“I did not realize you bought such expensive wines, Glorfindel.” Erestor remarked as he studied the label that seemed very familiar to him. Only two weeks ago had he taken stock of the cellar. “Or will I notice a missing bottle in Elrond’s stock?”
“Well, YOU may notice, Erestor, but Elrond… nay. And since you participate in drinking it…” Glorfindel wiggled his eyebrows and grinned at his perfect plan to make Erestor his accomplice.
“I don’t drink.” Erestor handed the bottle back to Glorfindel. As if he ever got inebriated! By the Valar, he would lose his face – quite a terrifying thought.
Glorfindel shook his head. Erestor was a hopeless case! “You know, you’re missing all the fun. You mind if I sit?” the Guard’s Captain sauntered over to the carved wooden chair and spilled his long limbs all over it.
Erestor followed “No…” his hands rose to mid-air as if to stop the blond Lord, “That is…I thought you might sit over there…” he gestured at the heavily padded chair. After all Glorfindel was his guest and deserved the most comfortable place.
“I’m fine, thanks.” The blond said casually.
Erestor sighed. He had tried to figure everything out in advance and his tight control he usually had over his carefully staged settings already started to crumble because Glorfindel behaved utterly unpredictable! Well, he could improvise, couldn’t he? After all it was only about reversed positions.
Erestor was just about to settle down on his beloved chair when, to his horror, he saw Glorfindel pressing the bottle’s cork into its neck with his bare thumb. He jumped “I have an opener!”
But it was already all done, Glorfindels’ thumb was pulled out with a plopping sound and he offered Erestor the bottle.
“No, thanks.” The Counselor declined politely. Glorfindel was a brute! He had always known so. Erestor briefly wondered what, in all of Arda, this creature could teach Legolas? All he could see was that he would constantly try to ruin whatever manners Erestor had taught Legolas.
The Balrog-slayer shrugged and took a swig from the bottle. Erestor rolled his eyes. Glorfindel ignored the silent comment.
“Now, what will you do about Legolas’ hours?” Glorfindel ventured, ogling the snacks Erestor had provided.
“I? What should I want to change? It is you who is constantly distracting Legolas from his scheduled hours.”
“He needs physical exercise!”
“He needs a sharp mind.”
“Legolas needs to let off steam, Erestor! He cannot constantly sit with you. There is too much pent-up energy in the young one. He needs to exhaust his body as much as he may need to broaden his mental horizon.” Glorfindel finally took the liberty and nibbled on one of the honeyed biscuits.
“He will get used to it.”
“He will explode. That’s what he will do.” Glorfindel stated. He had already seen violent outbursts of Legolas when his frustration took the better of him. “That you cannot do so any longer doesn’t mean that he must not as well.”
Oh-oh! What had he just said? Glorfindel bit his lip. “I’m sorry….I didn’t mean what I just said:”
Erestor had paled visibly, his lips growing thin and his body tensing, straightening. He had been careless enough to let down his guard, feeling the false safety of his private chambers surrounding him. Glorfindel’s remark had hurt him badly. “Well, I deem we both will have to make compromises.” Erestor answered stiffly. “I suggest we expand his training with you and in return I get half a Saturday so his brains will not completely deteriorate.”
Glorfindel sighed. He had not deserved any better. “I deserve your anger, Erestor. I admit that I’m not as good with words as you are and sometimes I can’t seem to find the right words but.....I’m not a complete idiot who is all muscles without brains.”
“Oh, you mean you’re not just a pretty face?” Erestor said icily.
“You think I’m pretty?” Glorfindel’s face lit up again.
Erestor groaned “by the Valar! You are wood to my pyre, Glorfindel.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Glorfindel insisted.
“I admit that you have a rather..... attractive face. Yet, that is nothing without the wits. Your manners are almost, well, non-existent and you are all but muscle. You’re a brute!” Erestor was exasperated.
“It were those muscles that let you dance the other night.” Glorfindel pointed out. Erestor cast his eyes down. He couldn’t deny that. To his own dismay he had to admit that he often thought back to that night when he’d danced so happily.
“And you know damn well that manners don’t count when battling orcs. I think you were a lot more like me before this happened to you.” Glorfindel gestured to Erestor’s feet.
The Counselor’s face darkened. He did not like being reminded of those dark days. The whole conversation had taken a completely unwanted direction anyway and so Erestor thought it would be the best to be content with the achieved compromise and get rid of Glorfindel. He stood slowly, wincing internally when his feet protested after a day of running around far too much.
“Well, Glorfindel, I think we have found an agreement to work on. So let’s see if we can put it into practice. Good night.”
The elf so-addressed neither moved nor blinked. Instead he made himself a bit more comfortable in the chair, stretching his long, muscular legs. “Honestly, Erestor, the food is not consumed and there is still a lot of wine to be drunk. Why don’t you sit down and help me? You may even keep insulting me in that charming way of yours.” Glorfindel laughed quietly when he saw Erestor roll his eyes helplessly.
“You are taking advantage of the situation. I cannot throw you out.” Erestor complained.
“I’m a brute, such doesn’t bother me overly.” Glorfindel replied nonchalantly and grinned. He filled his glass and offered it to the Counselor who, again, declined with a dignified shake of his head. “Cheers.”
“What do you want?” Erestor’s fingers tapped his foot nervously.
“Ai, nothing special. Smalltalk.” The blonde gave Erestor a dazzling smile and the most innocent look he was able to put up.
“Ah, I see. You would like to discuss those three things we have in common: being male elves in Elrond’s service. We’ve been there before, Lord Glorfindel, it led to nothing.” Erestor said icily. “I would prefer you leaving. Now.”
“Make me.” The guard’s Captain nibbled at a canapé with smoked salmon and butter.
“You are impossible! I want you to leave!” Erestor exclaimed.
“You repeat yourself, Counselor. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and help me finish off these delicious snacks you had brought in for us? I might leave then sooner.”
The next moment was a blur of movement and Glorfindel was never able to tell what had happened, but next he knew was Erestor’s sword pressing against his throat.
“I think I can still make you leave whenever I wish to.” The Counselor growled, his black eyes slanted, his stance slightliy ducked like a large cat ready to pounce its prey. So surprised was Glorfindel that he dropped his canapé and stared, mouth agape, at Erestor.
For the first moment the Balrog Slayer thought he might have gone too far. Would Erestor hurt him? Certainly not! Erestor was no kin-slayer! Still, it was obvious the elf knew how to handle a sword and who could tell what would happen once the restrained Noldo finally lost his temper?
Those thoughts were so clearly visible on Glorfindel’s face that Erestor wasn’t able to hold back his amusement. He had truly startled the other. When the blade started to shake, Glorfindel was about to jump. But raising his eyes told him that Erestor was actually laughing!
“By the Valar! That face of yours is priceless, Glorfindel.” Erestor couldn’t stop laughing, especially when Glorfindel glared at him, still motionless. Erestor pulled clear and hung the blade back to where it belonged above the mantelpiece.
“Son of an orc!” Glorfindel retorted. Then, realizing how he had been fully tricked by the assumed frailty of Erestor’s, joined in the laughter. He couldn’t remember having seen such pure mirth on Erestor’s face – not even with Legolas or the twins!
“Oh, you don’t look like one. I always thought you were Vanyarin.” Erestor slowly calmed down and eventually sat down. He thoughtlessly reached for the wine and sipped. It was indeed a very good vintage! “Now, what do you want, Glorfindel?”
“Smalltalk. I thought that – well – since we need to cooperate it would do no harm if we got to know each other a bit better.”
“Humph.” Erestor was suspicious: why would Glorfindel want to get to know him?
“Just talking.” Glorfindel assured.
“All I want is to be left alone." Erestor sighed. Why would this obnoxious blond not leave?
"Nay. You need a friend, somebody to confide in."
"Certainly not YOU?" Erestor spat.
"Why not? I do not run from you. I made you laugh. I massaged your feet. You think utterly low of me, so I cannot disappoint you. Why not let me be your friend?" Glorfindel knew if he did not succeed tonight, he wouldn’t get another chance. Ever.
Erestor sighed in defeat. "I cannot get rid of you, can I?"
"Nay." Glorfindel smiled brightly.
“Well, I yield.” Erestor admitted defeat. Besides to have somebody in his rooms, to sit at the fireplace and talk about this and that was pleasant. He had almost forgotten about these simple joys in his chosen isolation.
“Good!”
“I really surprised you, didn’t I?” Erestor asked. “Oh, your face!”
“You will not tell my men!”
“Depends…” a smug smile appeared on Erestor’s face.
“I already start to regret this arrangement.” Glorfindel groaned.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else. You always act on impulse and as soon as a clear thought finds its way into your brains, you regret all and everything you’ve done.”
“That is how you see me?”
“Hmmm…no, not quite so deep.”
“I drink to that, Erestor. Cheers!” the glasses met in mid-air with a clear bell-like sound and the two Eldar drank from their glasses synchronously.
TBC...
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