A Tale of Two Lords

Summary: none given.

 
-=-Chapter One-=- 

“Tell me, what news this morn?”  Glorfindel reined his steed to stand beside his friend and fellow captain Ecthelion’s horse. 

Briefly Ecthelion regarded Glorfindel and then looked back to the scene playing out down the pathway.  Beside one of the more common cottages three young ellith were weeping as a slave trader went about his business tying their hands together and then to a length of chain that connected them and wound around their waists.  There was another Elf, a lanky ellon who looked barely past his majority, if that.  He was already bound and staring emotionlessly at the sky with his chin tilted up proudly.  “I do not know,” admitted Ecthelion. 

The pair of Elf-lords waited and watched as it was not the business of the elite to involve themselves in the affairs of the common-folk.  From within the cottage came an older ellon and Sarnion, the owner of the horse-race track. 

“Know you him?” asked Glorfindel of Ecthelion, pointing toward the ellon at the door with the tip of his riding crop.  Ecthelion did not answer but instead raised his hand in order to silence Glorfindel.  When the Elf with the dark hair coaxed his horse forward to better hear the conversation Glorfindel followed suit. 

“...and as we agreed, if we are able to get enough from the sale of fewer than all of your children the others will be returned to you.”  Sarnion looked to the slave trader and made a dismissive motion to him.  Giving Sarnion a nod, the trader yanked the chain connecting the four young elves together and they began to follow him up the path the Elf-lords were coming down.  

The older ellon tried to come around Sarnion in answer to the renewed weeping from the three ellith, but his path was blocked.  “Do I not get to say farewell to them?” 

“You care very little of them to give them in trade for your gambling debts,” Sarnion said with a smirk.  “I do not even believe your son wishes to say good-bye to you at the moment.  Now, let us go back inside to go over the contract once again.”  Sarnion steered the ellon back into the house. 

As the slave trader came closer to the horses and their riders, he paused and bowed his head.  The young ellon behind him nearly trampled into him for his head had been bowed as he walked, and the ellith into him so that chaos ensued. 

“Disrespectful swine!”  The trader shoved the ellon back into the she-elves.  “On your knees and bow to the lords before you!”  The trader roughly placed his hand upon one of the ellith’s shoulders and shoved her to the ground.  The young ellon despite being chained and manacled at the wrists lifted both hands and struck the trader’s shoulder. 

“Do NOT touch my sister again!” he shouted. 

By now both Ecthelion and Glorfindel had stopped their descent and watched the newest development.  The trader threw the chain he had been holding down to the ground and went to the Elf-lords.  Bowing upon one knee he said to them, “Pardon, your lordships.  They have no manners.”  Standing again, he looked at the riding crop Glorfindel was holding.  “May I, your lordship?” 

Without thinking, Glorfindel handed the crop to the trader who once again bowed.  Then he turned and looked with vengeance upon the youth. 

“You will not touch ME again!”  The trader drew back his arm and struck the young ellon in the same place he had been hit.  Flinching, the youth took a step back but then came forward again and stood his ground.  “Now, I said, on your knees.  On your knees!”  The trader came around the young ellon and began to strike his upper back and arms while the ellith dropped to their knees and begged their brother to join them. 

“Hold.”  Ecthelion tugged his reigns forward and looked down at the youngling.  He held out his hand for the crop, and the trader gave it to him.  Placing the bloodied strap of leather beneath the young ellon’s chin, Ecthelion forced the youth to look up.  “Why dost thou not bow before your most benevolent lords?” 

“I see no benevolence, only greed.  I see no pity, only cruel curiosity.” 

Ecthelion bristled at the comments and drew back his arm.  With one stroke, he could kill a fly upon his horse’s hide without causing the horse to flinch but he chose now to use the crop to cut a deep lash across one of the young ellon’s cheeks.  “Take a knee to me, boy, or next I shall striketh your throat.” 

Defiance was still in his eyes, but the ellon took to one knee.  “Both of them.”  Ecthelion waited until the Elf was knelt upon the ground.  “Lower,” he said. 

Fighting an obvious urge to either cry or flee, the ellon lowered himsElf down upon the path, his face in the dirt and his arms digging painfully into his ribs in front of him.  “There you are,” said Ecthelion to the trader as he handed the crop back to Glorfindel.  “They need only the right motivation for them to do as thou would like them to.  Am I to assume these four shall be available for purchase come the dawn?” 

“That is both true and not quite so, m’lord.  They are to be sold but at auction and not the market.” 

“How interesting.”  Ecthelion gave the ellon on the ground one final passing glance as he spurred his horse.  “How very interesting.” 

“Peace and good fortune to you, m’lords!” called the trader as the pair on horseback continued on their way.  They did not as much as look behind them as they traveled on to the house. 

It was as they were dismounting that Sarnion emerged from the house.  He whistled merrily to himsElf as he rolled up a scroll.  Upon seeing the lords approach he bowed immediately but did not bow so low as the trader had.  “Peace to you this day, my lords.  How may I be of service?” 

“My curiosity it great, Sarnion.  Tell me, how oft dost thou partake in the business of slave trading?” asked Ecthelion. 

“It is merely a passing fancy I would hope.”  Sarnion closed the door to the rundown home and motioned toward another path that would lead to a communal garden.  Ecthelion’s lip twitched at the idea of setting foot in the public area but he walked beneath the archway woven of roses despite this.  Having relatives of a lower class, Glorfindel was not so loathe to follow.  “What is your interest in the matter?” 

“My interest lies with rebellious one who hath the ink-colored eyes and hair.  Me thinks he may be a challenge for you to sell.” 

“Ah, but you do not know the entire story.”  Sarnion paused at a bush of white roses and plucked from it the fullest, brightest of the blooms.  “His father, Eregil, has outstanding debts at my parlors and at the racing dens.  Extensive outstanding debts.  Eregil’s solution in the past was to sell his land and then his inheritance and finally whatever he had left.  I have never seen a house so bare as his, and children so deprived.  His wife passed some years ago and I took pity upon him and gave him time to repay me.  Then I learned he has been coming in disguise to the races, betting and using false names.  I can only imagine the debt he incurred from those visits which I shall never see.” 

The flower was tossed into a stream as they passed it by.  Glorfindel frowned as he watched the petals take on a dirty yellowish brown hue.  He stepped carefully over a puddle and brought out a handkerchief, which he used to cover his mouth and nose as they walked. 

“So you came to collect and having nothing he gave up his children in payment,” said Ecthelion. 

Sarnion tilted his head to one side, then the other.  “It is a bit more complex than that.  I do not deal mysElf in the buying and selling of flesh.  When Eregil made the proposal I had to speak to a colleague who knows the market.  Three young, fair maids will surely fetch a good price – even one might pay off the debt completely.  The cocky little brat may not sell for as well as his sisters, but he is young.  And unused.” 

To these comments, Ecthelion looked even more interested than before.  Glorfindel furrowed his brow.  “You are expecting them to be sold as toys, not as workers, then?” 

“I care not what they are sold for, so long as I am paid my due.”  Sarnion stopped and turned to face Ecthelion.  “Would you care to schedule an inspection of the whelp before tomorrow morn?  For you, my lord, I could have such a thing arranged.” 

“I hath not the time and I taketh your word that he is fresh and clean.”  Ecthelion wet his lips and gave a sharp whistle.  “Tomorrow my schedule is full as well, but if you are sure he will be available in the morning-“ 

“Oh, indeed, my lord.  Following market open he will be the first to be sold.” 

Nodding, Ecthelion said only, “Good.  Be sure he has been bathed.  If I shall have need to cancel my appointments in order to be present, I intend to have time to enjoy him before my evening patrol.”  As he spoke, the sound of his horse approaching could be heard clearer and clearer.  Turning to Glorfindel, Ecthelion said, “It has turned out to be a more eventful morning than I anticipated, but now I must take my leave.  Good day to you, Glorfindel.” 

“And to you, Ecthelion.”  Glorfindel watched his friend mount and ride off as Sarnion showed reverence to both of them.  For a moment, Glorfindel looked as if he might say something more to Sarnion, but instead he simply walked away. 
 
 

-=-Chapter Two-=- 

That night, Glorfindel did something he was not accustomed to doing.  He thought, long and hard, considering what he had seen that day.  Come the morning, a family would be split apart.  Brother and sisters who had done nothing to deserve this lot would be separated, for years, perhaps forever.  Gondolin was a large place, and if only one of them was purchased as a plaything, they would spend their life locked away in some lord’s room. 

As Glorfindel sat in his home, drinking his wine and eating his meal alone, he decided that it would be best for someone to buy the entire group, so as to keep them all together.  Even then, it was likely that the boy would be taken from his sisters, perhaps even broken, for he was a proud young Elf.  If someone had a reason for buying them and keeping them together... 

And that was when Glorfindel realized that he was being presented with a perfect opportunity.  Since the death of his parents when he was very young, and his uncle and guardian later when he had barely reached his majority, Glorfindel had always been alone.  He had tried conventional pets – rabbits and dogs – but none of these satisfied him.  They were too much work to take care of, and assigning one of his house servants to the task meant having disruptions from someone who became more attached to the animals than he did. 

But having four full grown or nearly full grown elves who could serve as his siblings, who would be grateful not to be taken away from each other, was practically perfect in every way.  They would provide conversation and companionship, and best of all, he would never need to take them on walks or remember to feed them or groom them.  So, late that night, Glorfindel could be seen walking in the direction of the gaming hall that Sarnion ran.  The horse tracks were empty, only being used on the weekends, so it was very easy for the golden lord to find the proprietor of the casino. 

It was rare for the upperclass to frequent the hall, and even more so for a lord of a house to even step within five hundred meters of the place.  Glorfindel’s appearance was noticed by almost everyone in the hall, and Sarnion rushed forward through the masses to great him. 

“M’lord, good evening to you!  Do you fancy a table to be cleared for your enjoyment, or can I offer you a drink from the bar?  Complimentary, of course!” 

“Actually, I was hoping I might have a chance to see the merchandise you are selling tomorrow,” he replied. 

“Oh, of course, of course, right this way!”  Sarnion still motioned for a bottle of wine, and took it swiftly from the ellith who brought it over.  He then led Glorfindel back to the entrance and produced a ring of keys.  One of them slid smoothly into a door that was concealed behind a curtain, and Glorfindel was led into the lower chamber of the hall.  “Finding a place to keep them until tomorrow proved a challenge,” he said as they entered the dark passageway, lit only by a candle Sarnion had with him.  “They did not have extra pens at the market, and I wanted to protect my interests anyhow.  The girls are in here,” he said, kicking his foot against a large wooden door as they passed.  The sounds of soft sobbing could be heard on the other side.  “Ah, here he is.” 

Instead of being locked in a room, the young ellon was chained up in the main part of the basement.  There were hooks for hanging slabs of beef and sheep, and one of them was used to restrain the lad.  His hands were shackled together and the short chain between the two cuffs had the hook looped through it.  The hook was up so high that the youth was literally stretched out, his feet unable to quite reach the floor as he dangled, suspended from the ceiling.  Scars were appearing on his back where he was healing, as well as one across his cheek.  There were more than a few bruises on him as well. 

“He put up a fight with us, but now he seems to have calmed down,” said Sarnion. 

The young one briefly opened his eyes and lifted his head, but it was fleeting.  Once again his head was lowered, making him look utterly defeated. 

Glorfindel reached into his pocket as Sarnion said, “Would you like to get a closer look and feel of the product?  I can send for one of my men to hold him in case he tries to kick.” 

“Actually,” said Glorfindel, tossing the pouch to Sarnion, “I think I shall just complete the transaction now.” 

“What is this?” demanded Sarnion, pulling at the strings of the pouch. 

“Payment, in full, for all four of them.” 

Sarnion paused.  “You cannot be serious.”  Untying the pouch, Sarnion looked within, his eyes growing wide.  “There is twice the money here than owed...” 

“Then take it, and call it your commission.”  Glorfindel stepped forward and reached easily for the hook that the youth was attached to.  He was growled at, but only laughed in return. 

“Shall I have someone assist you with getting them back to your mansion?  They might run,” warned Sarnion. 

“No, I do not think they will,” replied Glorfindel.  “Do you have the key for these?” he asked, now holding the chain that linked the shackles together.  Sarnion handed the key to him immediately.  Glorfindel nodded, placing it into a pocket inside his vest, but he did not unlock his merchandise.  “Now, the girls?” 

Sarnion headed off in the direction of the room that held the other three.  Glorfindel made to follow, but the young one beside him refused to.  “I will drag you if I must,” warned the blond Elf.  He gave a yank on the chain to show he meant business, and the other ellon grudgingly followed. 

In the other room, the trio of young ellith were all still chained together.  “Get up!” barked Sarnion, perhaps a bit too harshly, and the crying began anew.  “Up!  Do not insult your new master,” he added, motioning toward Glorfindel.  As the ladies stood, Sarnion grabbed hold of the end of the chain and attached it to the shackles on the youngest.  “There, all tidy for you.  Is there anything else you might require, m’lord?” 

“Yes.  Let Eregil know he is not to bother me, for any matter.  If he is seen on my property, he shall be shot on sight.  That is all.”  Glorfindel reached for the chain, and upon seeing the uncleanliness of it, took from his pocket a cloth which he used to wrap around the chain.  He then lead the quartet out of the basement and into the night. 

After clearing the common lands and reaching the gates that led to the twelve houses, Glorfindel stopped.  “I am inclined to remove these chains, but I will not accept insubordination of any kind.  Is that understood?”  All three of the ladies nodded and sniffled, but the young ellon simply glared.  “Is there a problem?  Do you not understand what I am saying?  Speak you Sindarin?” he asked, very, very slowly. 

“I speak Sindarin.  I speak Noldorin.  I speak Quenya.  I heard you just fine.” 

“Well.  Then next time, you will know I expect an answer.” 

“Then my answer is, I will run as soon as I am unchained, so you had best not take the shackles off.” 

Before Glorfindel could respond to this, one of the ladies, the eldest if he had to guess, turned and took hold of her brother’s hand the best she could with cuffs on her wrists.  “Erestor, please, do not run.  Do you know what they will do?  They will hunt you down, whip your skin raw, and put you in the stocks until they decide to hang you!  You cannot run away; they will catch you!” 

“Your sister is right.  Erestor.”  Glorfindel received another dark glare from the youth again, and could not help but grin.  “Well, now that I know his name, what are the rest of your names, darlings?” 

“I am Erevil,” answered the one who had spoken to Erestor.  Her dark features were a match to Erestor’s, and there was no doubt that they were siblings.  “These are my younger sisters, Giliel and Maewen.”  Both had eyes of grey, and while black tresses framed Maewen’s face, Giliel’s hair was spun of gold, yet smudged and dirty from the recent ordeal. 

“My name is Glorfindel,” he said to them, and Erestor snorted loudly. 

“Of course your name is Glorfindel.  You think we are that stupid not to know who you are?” 

“Erestor!” hissed Erevil, but the young ellon continued. 

Stepping boldly up to Glorfindel, he stared the lord in the eyes (a considerable feat, for Glorfindel was nearly a foot taller and Erestor had to stretch up on his toes), and said, “We know exactly who you are.  So the real question in my mind is, which of my sisters do you plan to mercilessly deflower first?” 

“Erestor!” Erevil was tugging insistently at Erestor’s sleeve now, completely aghast.  “Erestor, do you want to be beaten again?  Stop!” 

But he refused to stop now, for his audience was fully captivated.  Glorfindel stood with his arms crossed, not speaking a word.  “Will it be Erevil?  She is the eldest, the most mature.  Or perhaps Maewen – young, shy, reserved.  Less likely to fight you.  Or Giliel, with her fair looks.  Well?” 

And then, Glorfindel burst out laughing.  “My, my, but you do have an imagination!  Enough of this foolishness, now, are you still planning to run when I free you?” 

Exchanging looks with Erevil, Erestor shrugged.  “I am still considering it.” 

“Let us see then what you will do.”  Glorfindel went through the line, unlocking the chain from Erestor last.  He let the metal drop to the ground with a loud thunk, and then crossed his arms again.  “Well?” 

Erestor shifted his feet uncomfortably.  “Where are we going?” 

“Home.  This way,” said Glorfindel, leading them through the gate and down the stone path that led to his house.  Only guards were still on the streets at this time of night, so no one stopped them.  As they entered the house, the night butler merely lifted an elegant brow, but said nothing as Glorfindel and his parade passed him by.   

Once they were inside the center of the house where the master suite was, Glorfindel frowned upon inspecting them all briefly.  “I cannot believe how filthy you are.” 

“The accommodations of our dungeon were not exactly first class,” answered Erestor back, and he received a jab from Erevil and a smirk from Glorfindel for his comment. 

“You will all need baths.  I shall summon the maids immediately to fill the tub.  And clothing...”  Glorfindel crinkled his nose at the garments they were all wearing.  “Leave your shoes at the door and come with me.” 

“We do not have any shoes,” said Maewen softly. 

Glorfindel looked down.  “So, you do not.  Then... wipe your feet and come with me.” 

Mud and dirt quickly covered the small rug at the door, and then the four trailed after Glorfindel as he walked through the main chamber which was more than twice the size that their entire house had previously been, and to a winding staircase.  The stairs led to a hallway with a number of doors on either side.  When he reached the third one down, he smiled to himsElf, remembering.  “This,” he said before opening the door, “is—was, my mother’s dressing chamber.  Dresses, dozens, likely a hundred, maybe more.  Jewels, from the Feanorians, sparkling pendants and earrings that glitter as you pass, and more.  Shoes – oh, the shoes!  Slippers, boots, sandals, and hats, and wigs, and—well, just look.”  With that, Glorfindel pushed the door open.  The jaws of all three ladies dropped at the wealth they saw within.     

“May we... may we each choose a dress?” asked Giliel in awe. 

“A dress?  Heavens, no,” said Glorfindel, and for a brief minute the delight faded.  “It is yours.  All of it.  Anything you like, and if there is something you want that you do not see, simply ask.  Do you see that bell?”  He picked up a small silver bell from the armoire.  “Ring it.  See what happens.” 

Erevil took the silver bell, and rang it.  It made a tinkling noise, and no sooner had the sound stopped, then there were five tidily dressed maids standing in the hallway.  Each of them entered the room, curtseying to Glorfindel one by one as they entered.   

“I kept the full staff on even after my parents died.  It seemed a shame to dismiss them, since they had been with the family for so long.”  Glorfindel turned to the maids and said, “I expect you all to treat Miss Erevil, Miss Giliel, and Miss Maewen with the same respect you show me.”  Each curtseyed again, and Glorfindel smiled to the trio of ladies.  “I shall send someone for you when the bath is ready.” 

Glorfindel backed out of the room, closing the door and nearly knocking Erestor over in the process.  “Planning to pretty them up before you decide which one you fancy?  Or will you keep them all as your pets?” 

“Honestly, Erestor.  The things you think up.  This way; there is a bath for the ladies and one for you, too.  We just need to find some clothing for you first.”  Glorfindel steered Erestor in the direction of his own rooms, which were at the far end of the hallway.  The room was decorated in dark greens and blues, and led to a balcony with seating for twelve and room for dancing.  “I think some of my old clothing might fit you,” he said. 

From a closet, Glorfindel pulled various outfits.  “No, wrong color... no, too dark... ah, here we are.  And here is another.  These will do for now,” he said, holding the clothing out. 

“Why are you being so nice to us?” Erestor asked warily. 

Glorfindel reached out and lifted up one of Erestor’s arms so that it was parallel to the ground, then draped the clothing over it.  “You would rather that I beat you and call you names?  Chain you up and whip you?  That I kept you locked in the dungeon and fed you gruel?” 

“It does not surprise me that you have a dungeon,” came the reply.  “Is that where you will lock me when you decide it is time to take their virginity?” 

“Follow me,” said Glorfindel with a sigh, and they went down the hallway to the top of the stairs.  Here there was a small round bit of tube jutting out of the wall.  Glorfindel lifted up a flap of heavy cloth and shouted into it, “Second floor,” and then put his ear to the opening.  A voice answered him back with “M’lord?” 

“I need hot water brought up for the tubs.  Both in my own bathing chamber, and the ladies’ bath.  Be quick.” 

“Aye, m’lord.” 

“I will be in my father’s study.  Come for me when you have finished.” 

“Aye, m’lord.” 

Glorfindel covered the flap again, and motioned to Erestor.  “This way.  My father was, among other things, a linguist.  As you have mentioned that you have knowledge of the many languages of the Eldar, I thought you might enjoy this room.” 

The study was not much of a study at all.  In fact, it was really a very large library, which rose up with ladders and ledges that gave it three different levels.  There was not a shElf without a book, and a massive index sat at the center of the room. 

Erestor’s eyes filled with tears as he took in the room.  “These are books,” he said in awe. 

“Of course they are,” answered Glorfindel nonchalantly.  “Well, go on,” he said, nudging Erestor forward as he took hold of the clothing in his arms. 

Erestor shook his head.  “I cannot.” 

“Sure you can—“ 

“No.  I cannot.”  Erestor’s jaw trembled.  “I cannot read.” 

“What do you mean you cannot read?”  Glorfindel’s smile fell from his face.  “You are serious.” 

“My father never had any money, with his gambling.  I cannot read, I cannot write.  There.  Are you happy?” Erestor swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

Glorfindel shook his head.  “Not at all.”  From his pocket he took a clean cloth and tried to dab at the young ellon’s eyes.  When Erestor stepped away, Glorfindel held the cloth out.  Finally, Erestor did take it.  “You are welcome,” said Glorfindel when Erestor did not respond.  He sighed and said, “I suppose your sisters are uneducated as well.” 

Erestor nodded. 

“Tomorrow, we will find a tutor for all of you.  Just... make yoursElf comfortable,” offered Glorfindel.  “Someone will come and get you when it is time for a bath.” 

After he left the study, Glorfindel disappeared down a corridor and hurriedly ran up a flight of stairs hidden behind a tapestry.  At the top of the flight was a dead end, but it was really a large portrait that was hanging in the study.  Pushing aside a small panel revealed two small holes spaced close together, and Glorfindel peered into these to watch the young ellon in the room. 

Erestor had found an atlas and was paging through it as he sat in a large leather chair with a tall back and arms so high they came up to his ears and made him look like a small child sitting in his father’s office.  Glorfindel smiled as he noticed that Erestor was holding the book upside down.  Sarnion was right to expect that each of the four would have fetched a high price. They were all beautiful, despite looking tired and neglected. 

“But for me, they shall be my family,” vowed Glorfindel, pushing the panel back in place.

-=-Chapter Three-=- 

Glorfindel sat eating his breakfast when the butler entered and pardoned himsElf.  “Sorry, sir, but there is someone to see you.  Lord Ecthelion has come to call.  I told him you were not taking visitors today, but—“ 

“It is alright,” Glorfindel said.  “Allow him in.” 

When Ecthelion entered, he found Glorfindel lounging on a settee, reading a letter and attacking his grapefruit with a pointed spoon.  “Now that was a move sly enough to be regarded as one of mine own.” 

A smirk graced Glorfindel’s face.  “You would have done the same had you considered it first.” 

“Aye, I might have.  I have no use for more wenches in my house, though, so my interest would not have been to buy them as a lot.”  Ecthelion sat upon one of the chairs, removing his gloves. 

“Have you broken your fast?  I can have something brought for you,” offered Glorfindel.  Ecthelion shook his head.  “Then you shall have to wait for me to finish mine before we conduct whatever business you have come to discuss.” 

“I will be brief and to the point.”  Ecthelion brought out an envelope that was tucked in his vest.  “I want the little one.” 

“Then you should have gone to Sarnion before I did.” 

The Lord of the Fountain gave Glorfindel a sour look.  “I followed proper protocol.  Thou can imagine what a fool I felt to arrive at the market this morn only to find that the auction hath been cancelled.  I knowst you hath no need for more money, so I am offering you something far better.  A deed to the barley fields I own.  You have very little farmland and I am sure you will find this more than a fair trade.” 

“You are aware of the fact he is only forty-four, are you not?”  Glorfindel sat up to pour the juice from the empty shell of half of the grapefruit into a small glass. 

“Glorfindel, this is a very generous offer.  Do not barter with me like a housewife.” 

Into the room, somewhat unexpectedly, walked Erestor at that moment.  His hair was tousled from sleep and he wore a long white nightshirt that came to his knees.  Blinking as he looked around, he asked, “Where are my sisters?” 

“Still asleep, I suspect,” answered Glorfindel, moving his legs off of the settee and patting the empty space.  He picked up a bell from his table and rang it as he explained, “You fell asleep last night in the tub, so I had you dressed and taken to bed.  Do you like grapefruit?”  Erestor shook his head and made a face.  “Well, you should.  Good for you, and it would put some meat on your bones,” he added, poking his finger into Erestor’s ribs.  The young Elf squirmed away slightly.  “What about oranges?”  Erestor shrugged. 

The butler smartly entered, and Glorfindel ordered oranges, fresh milk, and boiled eggs to be brought for his young charge.  All the while, Ecthelion stared at the youth with the black hair, lingering on the bare flesh from his knees down.  “Glorfindel, I do believe thou hast gone mad.” 

“Why is that?” asked the Golden Flower lord with a smile as Erestor’s breakfast was delivered. 

“You would rather keep this street urchin than trade him for seventeen acres of good, true farmland.” 

Erestor looked up at Glorfindel worriedly, but Glorfindel placed his hand on Erestor’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “I already make more money than I can use from my guilds.  There is no need for me to add farming.” 

“You are not only mad, but a fool as well.” 

“Good day, Ecthelion.” 

The captain blinked.  “Art thou dismissing me?” 

“Unless you would prefer to keep your pride and dismiss yoursElf.”  Glorfindel waved his hand.  “I do not accept your offer.  Good day.” 

Snatching his gloves from his lap, Ecthelion stood and glared at the youth as he peeled an orange.  “I do hope you prove to be more a burden for him than he expects.”  With that, Ecthelion left. 

Sometime later as Erestor was eating orange segments, he asked, “Is he one of your friends?” 

“I have no friends.” 

“Oh.”  Erestor worked on peeling an egg.  “Is seventeen acres a lot of land?” 

“Oh, yes.” 

“Am I really worth more than seventeen acres?” 

“Probably not,” said Glorfindel.  “However, I have no desire to split you and your sisters away from each other.  That would be cruel.”  Moments later, he said, “Damn, that was a lot of land.” 

Erestor was silent until his sisters entered, in a single file, all dressed and primped, looking much more elegant than they had the day before.  It was Erevil who spoke for the group.  “First, Lord Glorfindel—“ 

“Glorfindel.  You shall call me by my name and not my title.” 

“Glorfindel,” began Erevil again, “my sisters and I have done a lot of thinking this morning.” 

“Would you like breakfast?” interrupted the Elf lord.  He rang the bell before they could respond, ordering the same for them as he had for their brother. 

As soon as the butler had left, Erevil sat down in the chair Ecthelion had formerly been in.  “Glorfindel, you are being very kind, and we do appreciate your kindness.  We have noticed, however, that there are many others who live here and that perhaps your efforts should be directed to them as well.” 

“Pardon?” 

“For instance,” said Giliel, “the maids all live in one large room in the basement.” 

“In the dungeon?” questioned Erestor. 

“There is no dungeon,” scolded Glorfindel.  “How do you know that?” he asked, turning to Giliel. 

“I asked them where they slept when they showed us to our rooms.” 

“We have already asked for all of our beds to be moved into one room,” explained Erevil.  “That will leave two rooms for the maids to share.  Rooms with large fireplaces, and comfortable furniture, and windows that they can look out and such.” 

Glorfindel looked aghast.  “You want me to share my home with my servants?” 

“Well,” said Erevil, “you bought my sisters and brother and I.  Are we not your servants as well?” 

“Yes, but no... and if I bring the maids upstairs, then the servers and greeters and horsemasters will all expect better quarters as well,” argued Glorfindel. 

“We already considered that.  If you and Erestor share a room—“ 

“No,” came Erestor’s firm answer. 

“Well... you do have other guest rooms, do you not?” 

“Yes!  For guests, not for staff!”  

Erevil crossed her arms over her chest.  “I was lead to believe you do not have many guests.” 

“How could he?” wondered Erestor.  “He has no friends.” 

“Erestor!” scolded Erevil sternly. 

Erestor shrugged.  “He said so himsElf.” 

“So you want me to move my staff up into the main part of the building.  Any other requests?” Glorfindel asked dryly. 

“Yes.  The outfits that the maids wear are very plain and dreary.  Who wants to wear grey all the time?” asked Giliel. 

“You want the uniforms of the maids redesigned,” Glorfindel guessed. 

“Actually, we want the maids to wear real clothes.  Like these dresses.  There are enough of them, and imagine how lovely they would look in them,” suggested Erevil. 

“You have an awful lot of clothing, too,” added Erestor to Glorfindel.  “You should share it with the staff.  It looks so... boring with everyone in grey and white.” 

Glorfindel settled his glass onto his tray and folded his hands.  “Anything else?” 

“They should have a day off each week to visit their families or their friends, or just to do whatever they want to do.”  Both Erevil and Maewen nodded at what their sister said. 

“I see.”   

“Of course, he will not do any of those things,” spoke Erestor, much to everyone’s surprise.  “He is much too concerned about himsElf, and what does he care which color dress maid number three is wearing, or whether his butler has a chance to see his own mother even once a month?  His only care is how long it will take him to bed one of you.” 

To this, Glorfindel laughed.  “Well, then, it will surprise you, young one, to know I have decided that these are all very remarkable ideas which I will take into consideration.” 

By that afternoon, a table was drawn up for staff leave, giving each member of the staff one weekend per month off, as well as two full weeks per year.  At dinner, the maids brought food to the dining room while wearing gowns of moss, peach, ivory, silver, peacock, and indigo.  That night, everyone was in their new rooms, with warm fires and comfortable beds, and cheerful windows. 

The trio of sisters came to Glorfindel’s room to thank the master of the house and Erevil even gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.  As they left, Glorfindel caught sight of Erestor standing at the doorway.  The young ellon turned away, and did not look amused.

-=-Chapter Four-=- 

For a few years, small changes occurred here and there until most every other lord in Gondolin was in agreement that Glorfindel truly was mad.  There were rumors that the trio of girls he had taken in were witches, and another that the young ellon was really Melkor in disguise.   

Besides the changes within his house, Glorfindel began to set up funds for the poor and depraved citizens.  In the rundown areas of Gondolin, he invested his own money to better the communities.  Houses were built, as were wells and gardens, and even schools and libraries.  All lords were treated with respect whenever they walked among the common people, but the respect Glorfindel received was genuine. 

At home, he made good on his word to have his new sisters and brother instructed in the arts of writing and craftwork, and how to read, add, and subtract.  Erestor delved further into his studies, learning geography, psychology, and more difficult sciences.  He became a formidable chess opponent for Glorfindel in the quiet evenings, when Erevil and her sisters would work on their needlepoint or practice the instruments Glorfindel had gifted to them. 

Most evenings were uneventful, but now and then Erestor’s temper would flare.  This happened more and more after he reached his majority.  Any wayward glance from one of his sisters to their gallant host would be given a glare from the dark haired youth, and if he suspected Glorfindel of making any sort of an advance, he would verbally attack the Elf lord. 

“Glorfindel, I thought you might like a mug of hot chocolate.  I know it is your favorite, despite it being a warm night,” offered Giliel as she handed him a mug. 

“Thank you,” replied Glorfindel, smiling warmly at her.  “I do enjoy a mug of cocoa before bed.” 

Erestor snorted.  “Probably not the only thing you would enjoy.” 

Glorfindel regarded the younger ellon with a dark look.  “Just what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Exactly what it sounded like it meant.  Your only reason for this game you play with us is the prospect of bedding one of my sisters at some future date,” huffed Erestor. 

The mug of hot chocolate was slammed down onto the chessboard, drenching black and white pieces alike.  “I have had enough of this.  You want me to get to it, then?  To finally choose someone and bed them so that you will stop this incessant hounding of yours?” 

“It would be better than waiting and worrying as I do, night after night,” spat Erestor back. 

“Fine.  You.  Get to my chambers.  Now.” 

All three of the ladies looked at one another, unsure of what to do.  Glorfindel was still glaring at Erestor, and they were unsure of which of them he had addressed – and were also surprised that it had truly come to this.  “Excuse me,” spoke Erevil in a shaky voice, “but I do not know which of us you were speaking to.” 

“I was speaking to him,” said Glorfindel sternly, and only then did it dawn on Erestor.  The younger ellon slid back in his chair, aghast.  “Well?  Are you going to go on your own, or do I need to hoist you over my shoulder or drag you there?” 

Erestor stood, holding onto the edge of the table for support.  “Are you serious?” 

Glorfindel picked up the mug and used a decorative cloth that had been resting on the arm of his chair to wipe the liquid that had sloshed over the sides from it.  “Do I look as if I am in the mood to make jest?” 

Bowing his head, Erestor swallowed hard.  “I am never sure.” 

Glorfindel stood up, taking a sip of his drink.  He leaned his head close and pushed back the dark curtain of hair so that he could whisper directly into Erestor’s ear, “Be assured that right now I am very serious.  So I want you to get in there this minute, or else I promise you I do intend to drag you into my chambers, by these lovely midnight tresses you possess.  Is that clear?” 

Erestor nodded. 

“Good.  Then get going.”  Glorfindel let the hair drop back into Erestor’s face, and gave him a pat on the rear as he began to step away.  “Wait for me there, and do not think of locking the door,” he called out as Erestor hastily retreated from the main room.  “I have keys to every room in the house.” 

Frustrated, Glorfindel shook his head after Erestor had gone.  All three of the ladies were on their feet, mouths gaping at what they had witnessed.  “That is not how I intended to seduce your brother.” 

“But you did intend to,” Erevil said plainly. 

Glorfindel nodded.  "I like ellon. This is no offense to any of you; you are all very lovely, but you lack things I want and you have a little too much of what I'd rather not have. Your brother on the other hand, mouthy brat that he might be, would be just perfect.” 

“Glorfindel, if I might offer you a little advice?” 

The lord smiled at Erevil.  “Of course.  When have I turned down advice from you?” 

“Remember, he is young and has been through much.  That being said...”  Erevil’s hands fiddled with her needlework.  “The reason I think he is constantly mouthing off to you and verbally attacking you about us is that he is jealous, that you might have been interested in one of us instead of him.”  To this, Glorfindel raised his brow.  “You are not the only ellon to prefer other ellon, you know.” 

“I understand.  Thank you,” said Glorfindel.  “Now, if you will excuse me..." 

“Watch out,” called out Maewen just as Glorfindel was about to leave.  Glorfindel turned on his heal, and the shy elleth said, “When we were little, Erestor used to bite me sometimes.”  She blushed.  “I do not know if he would still do that now, but I would not want you to get hurt.” 

With a smile, Glorfindel answered in return, “I almost want to see him try.” 

On his way down the corridor, Glorfindel discarded his mug on a shElf containing miscellaneous figurines and pieces of pottery.  He climbed the stairs to his rooms and entered without knocking.  Erestor leaped up from the bed in an instant.  “You,” Glorfindel said loudly, pointing at the young ellon.  “You little troublemaker.  I have just about had enough from you altogether.  I swear sometimes that Ecthelion did curse me.” 

Walking to the nightstand, Glorfindel yanked open the top drawer, slammed it shut, and opened the other one.  From it he pulled a bottle which he tossed onto the bed.  He straightened up and kicked the drawer shut.  “You,” he said again, pointing at Erestor.  “I expected you undressed and in bed and ready for me when I arrived.” 

Stepping further away, Erestor stuttered, "B-But... I... I don't really know what you want me to do."  

Glorfindel smiled sweetly, and then slowly backed Erestor up against a wall.  “Bull.  Fucking.  Shite.  You cannot make me believe you, in all your intelligent wisdom, have no idea what I want to do."  Stepping in close enough that they were touching, Glorfindel thrust his hips against Erestor, causing the other ellon’s eyes to widen considerably.  "Now, my dear... strip. Or do you need that part explained to you?" 

Erestor swallowed hard.  "But... I'm only just past my majority." 

"Exactly.  One-hundred-fucking-percent legal." Glorfindel growled as he took hold of Erestor’s hands and brought them up over his head, pinning them against the wall.  Erestor let out a whimper as the blond bent his head down and touched his lips against the dark-haired ellon’s peach-colored ones.  "Now take off your clothes, or I rip them off. Do not worry," purred Glorfindel before Erestor could protest.  “I can always buy you more." 

Glorfindel stepped away, letting go of Erestor’s hands.  Erestor shivered, his hands shaking as he began to remove the fine garments, setting each one aside on a chair.  He kept looking hopefully at the door, perhaps thinking that one of his sisters might rescue him.  He was so intent on watching the door he absently made to take off a sock and found he had removed them already, along with everything else. 

Standing but a few feet away, Glorfindel was salivating at the sight of the young ellon standing nude before him.  “Turn around and put your hands upon the wall,” he instructed. 

Slowly, Erestor did as he was told, his breathing hitched with fright.  His eyes were squeezed shut as he placed his hands as he was told, fingers splayed. 

“Spread your legs apart,” was the next command given, followed by, “Stand up, on the tips of your toes.  Stretch up... there you go...”  Glorfindel smiled and came up behind Erestor and the youth flinched.  “I never had a single thought of defiling any of your three beautiful sisters,” admitted the lord.  “But I have had several pleasant dreams of what I wanted to do with this right here,” he said, his hands touching Erestor’s shoulders, running down his arms, up again, down his back, cupping his backside, squeezing, kneading, going lower.  Glorfindel let his hands and imagination wander as he nestled his nose against Erestor’s neck and took in his scent. 

“What are you going to do to me?” asked Erestor in a shaky voice. 

“Oh... a little of this, a little of that,” replied Glorfindel, giving Erestor’s penis a squeeze at the base that made him cry out, followed by poking a finger at his rear opening.  Erestor gasped and began to cry. 

“Now, now, the time for that will come later.  First, you have been a rather naughty boy, upsetting your sisters with your accusations, which have been utterly false.  Do you know what happens to naughty boys, Erestor?” 

When there came no answer, Glorfindel said, “Well, I shall show you what happens to naughty boys.  If you let go of the wall, or move away, I will have to double your punishment.” 

Taking a step to the side, Glorfindel decided it might be slightly more fun to hold Erestor down a bit, and so took hold of one of his wrists and brought it to the other, keeping them pinned against the wall.  When Erestor tried to step back down off the tips of his toes, his hands were yanked back up again.  “Did I say you could do that?  I warned you; double the punishment now.  Be good, or it will be triple.” 

Using his bare hand, Glorfindel started to spank Erestor.  The younger ellon bowed his head, keeping his eyes closed, his cheeks turning bright red at the disgrace.  “I think I shall have you count, Erestor, so that you do not feel so left out.  This,” said Glorfindel, landing a blow that was not very hard at all, “is number sixteen.  And that would make this one—“ 

-SMACK!- 

“...seventeen,” answered Erestor after a long pause. 

-SMACK!- 

“...eighteen.” 

-SMACK!- 

“Nineteen.” 

-SMACK!- 

“Twenty.” 

“And one more for good measure,” said Glorfindel, bringing the count to twenty-one.  He pressed against Erestor’s back, still holding his wrists, pushing him to the wall.  “Why do you not fight me?” 

“I do not want you to harm my sisters.” 

“I am not one to hurt a lady; normally, I am not one to hurt anyone, but you have hurt me for years.  Every kind word and deed you look at as if it is some underhanded trick.  Did you ever stop to think, that perhaps my reason was a little more pure?  That perhaps, I truly was being generous?” 

“Then why did you help us?” asked Erestor as his subsiding sobs turned to hiccups. 

Glorfindel sighed deeply and pulled Erestor to the bed.  The young ellon closed his eyes and grimaced, but he relaxed when all that Glorfindel did was sit him down next to him.  “Truth be told, I was lonely before you and your sisters arrived.” 

“And now?” 

“Now, I—“ 

Loud trumpets could be heard, and the sound of low, deep bells being rung from the King’s tower.  Glorfindel was on his feet in a flash.  “Get dressed.  Gather your sisters in the main room,” barked Glorfindel.  The Golden Flower lord left the room quickly, leaving Erestor upset and confused. 

When Erestor reached the main room, most of the staff was there as well as his sisters.  Many were sobbing and clinging to one another.  “Where did Glorfindel go?” he asked. 

“He left a moment ago, wearing his armor.  He said we should all stay here until he returns.”  Erevil wrung her hands.  “We should all stay together, gather some supplies.” 

“Supplies?  For what?  What is going on?” 

“We are under attack.  Morgoth has come to kill us all.” 

“Well, I did nothing to Morgoth.  I see no reason why he should care about me,” snorted Erestor.  He was grabbed by the arm and shoved down into one of the chairs by Maewen.   

“Why do you think it is always about YOU?!” she shouted, surprising and silencing everyone.  “You, you, you!  Always you!  Think about the rest of us, for a change, like Glorfindel always has.  He told us to stay here so we are safe, and to get ready to leave the city if we have to.  Now get your sorry arse into the kitchen and help us gather food to take with us if we need to go!” 

Erestor meekly nodded and stood up, following Maewen around and performing all of the tasks he was told to.  Day should have broken, but still the skies remained dark.  Hours passed before Glorfindel returned, slamming the door open with a bloodied hand.  “Everyone, follow me!” he roared, his back against the door, sword still raised. 

“Where is your sword?” he asked Erestor as the young ellon tried to pass outside. 

“I do not have one,” Erestor reminded him. 

“Here.”  Glorfindel handed the weapon to Erestor.  “Keep moving!” he shouted, pushing Erestor outside. 

The group ran through the streets, as others were doing.  Glorfindel shouted to small rag-tag parties who looked lost, gathering them to his ever growing group.  When they reached the center of the courtyard, he skidded to a stop.  There was a sword upon the ground that he recognized, and he bent down to pick it up.  “Ecthelion, you are the fool, not I,” he said, looking around at the corpses of three balrogs, and at the dead Gothmog who was wedged in the fountain. 

Together the survivors ran to the secret pass, with Glorfindel always dropping back to the rear to encourage the stragglers.  “If something happens, keep running,” he instructed Erestor.  “I will be right behind you.  Just keep going and get everyone—“ 

A rumble, like that of thunder was suddenly heard.  Everyone looked up to the skies and shrieks of panic filled the air as demons began to swoop at those escaping.  More orcs started to close in, and Glorfindel drew up Ecthelion’s sword.  “Change of plans.  Stay at my back, Erestor.” 

“Eagles!  Eagles!” shouted someone near to the front.  Sure enough, the large birds began to drop down from the heavens to pluck the orcs from the mountain and attack the demons.  But those were not the only foes to be defeated.  Again, the hideous sound came, and closer now.  Flames licked the dark beast as it soared across the sky, and there was no doubt what it was. 

“Lord Glorfindel,” spoke up his butler (whose name Glorfindel had never thought to ask), “I wish to take this moment to thank you for what you have done over these last few years.  I know we shall not leave this city alive, but I thank you for your valiant attempt to get us out.  I know of no other lord who cares for his staff and servants as you have.” 

Setting his jaw, Glorfindel asked, “My friend, what is your name?” 

“And to call me friend!”  The butler, for the first time Glorfindel could recall, smiled.  “I am Galion, sir, your faithful butler.” 

“Galion, I want you to know, I may not have been the best master, but I do appreciate your years of service.  When I give you the signal, I want you to rally everyone to run.  Run, run away, run like you have never run before.  Charge the orcs, slay them as you go, but just keep going without looking back.  Can you do that?” 

“Is it not my job to do whatever you ask of me, sir?”  Galion, who had somewhere along the line picked up a sword, held it up now.  “I will do my best, sir.” 

“Thank you.  Ready?”  Glorfindel leaped up onto a group of rocks so that he was well above the rest of the Elves trying to escape.  “You!  Yes, you!” he shouted, pointing Ecthelion’s sword at the balrog.  “Look familiar?  It ought to!”  Glorfindel flashed the blade at the beast.  “Do you know what this sword did?” 

The balrog lifted his head and let out a long, menacing scream. 

“You can smell the blood, right?  It killed your little friends back there, and your leader.  Now, it will be your doom as well!” predicted Glorfindel. 

As the creature gave another roar and flew down toward Glorfindel, drawing back his fiery whip, the Golden Flower lord called for Galion to rally everyone else out.  Lost in the stampede to leave, Erestor was pushed along with the throng that fought their way out.  At one point before rounding a corner Erestor looked over his shoulder to see Glorfindel battling the beast, his green and gold raiment caked with dirt and blood to make it appear grey and his armor dented and scorched.  Still, on he fought, with all his power and might.  It was the last time Erestor saw Glorfindel, until many years later. 
 

-=-Chapter Five-=- 

“I offer you welcome to my home, and to this realm, to this sanctuary we call Imladris, and others might call Rivendell.  Our valley is indeed open to all those who seek shelter and refuge.  I suppose it might be in some ways the opposite of your former home.” 

Glorfindel scratched his elbow and chased the itch up to his wrist.  “Gondolin was a haven.  A utopia, in fact.” 

“Yes, but from what I have been told and have read, there were penalties for leaving and the location was to be kept a secret.”  Lord Elrond Peredhel leaned back in his chair, making the wood squeak.  “Imladris is documented well, the location found on any map.” 

“I noticed that from the maps that I looked at when I was in Mithlond.  I was surprised at how bold Laurelindorinan is as well.  Neither of your cities have walls or any other fortifications that I can tell.  It would seem foolish to announce your whereabouts and not have proper protection.” 

“Oh, but we are protected,” Elrond assured him with a smile.  When Glorfindel raised a brow in askance, Elrond simply said, “It is something of a secret of my own.” 

“I see.”  Glorfindel scratched his other arm and shifted in his chair.  He was still getting used to all of the sensations of having a physical form again. 

“I am sure that your journey has tired you,” said Elrond.  “As Cirdan alerted me of your coming, I did have rooms prepared for you.” 

“Thank you.  That was thoughtful of you.” 

Elrond bowed his head slightly.  “The house is very large and easy to get lost in.  I will escort you to your quarters, and arrange for my Chief Counselor to give you a tour in the morning.  He was the architect who built the Last Homely House and he delights in showing newcomers all of the twists and turns in his design.  Whether you decide to reside here permanently or not, know that for your great deeds and kindness, you always have a place to stay here in my home.” 

Glorfindel tried not to smirk as he nodded.  If only Elrond knew, really knew, how Glorfindel had been.  From the histories that Glorfindel had read, however, he had been made out to be a most beloved Elf, and who was he to argue with history?  “I have plans to travel to every place I am able in Middle-earth before I find a place to permanently settle.  The Valar themselves have charged me with a task that even I do not know, only that I am to face an enemy that no Man shall defeat.” 

“That riddle I cannot read for you, but perhaps the Lady Galadriel might have an answer.  She lives in Laurelindorinan; mother of my wife, Celebrian, whom I hope you will meet this evening.  We will be holding a feast in the Great Hall that I hope you will be able to attend.” 

“Oh?  What is the occasion, if I might ask?” 

Elrond chuckled.  “Your arrival, of course.” 

The rooms Glorfindel was given were more than adequate, but felt cramped to the lord of old.  The bed was a third of the size of the last bed he owned, the dresser was small and the closet was smaller, and it took forever to track down a maid to have water brought for the tiny tub.  The tub was so small in fact that Glorfindel had to bend his knees to sit in it, and kept hitting his elbow on the side.  When he finished bathing and curled up to nap before dinner, his last thoughts were of hoping that it was all just a nightmare that he would wake up from. 

A knock on his door some time later led to him hastily dressing in one of only three outfits he now owned, two of them being previously owned by some Elf in Mithlond who just happened to be his size.  Glorfindel followed Elrond to the Great Hall, spending the entire walk ignoring whatever the Half-Elven lord was saying and concentrating instead on a small tear he had not noticed earlier on the sleeve of his jerkin. 

As he sat down at the empty seat he was directed to, Glorfindel tried to ignore the stares from most of the elves in the room.  The whispers made him shift uncomfortably, but not as much as the speech Elrond gave before starting a round of applause that forced everyone up from their seats.  Glorfindel shrugged at the compliments and praise, but this only caused those in the room to cheer louder.   

What Glorfindel wanted to do at that moment was crawl beneath the table, but no matter what he knew he was simply going to have to face this for all of his years to come.  His first thought when he had been greeted to the same sort of reception in Mithlond was to change his name and adopt a new identity.  “Well,” Cirdan had said to him, “you could cut your hair, dye it brown, and change your name, but it will be a trick indeed to see you get rid of that glow.”  Every sideways glance that Glorfindel received now was no doubt to see the light that seemed to emanate from him now. 

Elrond said a short blessing over the food that was being brought to the table in large bowls, and then began to pass items around to others after he took his share from them.  “Oh, before we get too far into conversation,” Elrond said, looking straight across the table at Glorfindel despite the fact that he was the only one not speaking to someone else, “to my right, my wife Celebrian.  Beside her, my eldest son, Elrohir, and his twin, Elladan.  Be thankful you were not here when they were youngsters, always trying to confuse the rest of us by pretending to be each other.”  This was followed by light laughter as Elrond continued, “Then we have my chief staff members, Lindir, and next to him Lord Erestor, and...” 

Glorfindel had been glancing politely at each person at the table as Elrond said their name, but now he found that he was staring at someone instead.  His blue eyes met piercing brown ones, belonging to an Elf he had not been able to get out of his mind since the very first day he had met him.   

“...and finally, Arwen.  Do not worry if you forget a name; it is understandable that you will miss one from time to time.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet all of you,” Glorfindel said as a basket of rolls was passed to him. 

For most of the meal Glorfindel was silent, answering the occasional question posed to him by Arwen.  The rest seemed to sense that their guest of honor was not up to talking about anything in great length.  As dessert was being brought, Glorfindel watched Erestor push back his chair and stand up.  The truth was that he had been watching him for the duration of the meal, but now could openly look as the others were. 

“Erestor?  Is something the matter?” asked Elrond. 

“Your pardon, but I have a long day tomorrow.  If you require nothing else of me this evening—“ 

Elrond waved his hand dismissively, and Erestor gave a simple nod.  He walked then to Glorfindel and held out his hand.  “Lord Glorfindel, it has been a pleasure.” 

Swallowing hard, Glorfindel skidded his own chair back and stood, taking hold of Erestor’s hand.  “And... yes, it has.  For me, as well,” he answered awkwardly.  As he pulled his hand back, he found that a folded piece of paper had been transferred into his palm.  He sat back down quickly as Erestor walked past a few other tables of elves who were still eating before reaching the doors to leave the room. 

Glorfindel waited until most of the others were conversing again before opening the note under the edge of the tablecloth.  He then moved it to his lap and casually looked down. 

204 

What was 204?  A year, a puzzle, a code of some sort?  No, Glorfindel doubted it would be so difficult as any of that.  It was a mystery to him, but he pondered it through his cherry pie and came to what he deemed a likely conclusion. 

As everyone began to leave for the night, either for their rooms or to a place called the Hall of Fire to which Glorfindel declined invitation, the ex-Gondolin Elf managed to have a few private words with Elrond.  “I do not wish to be a burden, so I am going to figure out these passages on my own,” he said. 

“Nonsense.  My Chief Counselor will be more than happy to show you around; he has agreed to it already most willingly,” answered Elrond, but Glorfindel was shaking his head already. 

“I still look forward to the tour, but I want to explore a bit tonight,” Glorfindel explained.  “Now, this floor, it is the main floor, but there is a floor below it, is there not?” 

“That is correct.  We are on the second floor right now.  The third and fourth are residential, the second is offices and such with a few reserved rooms for my family and staff members, and the first floor is for guests.  Your rooms are on the first floor, room 109,” Elrond said. 

“Thank you,” said Glorfindel politely.  “That is all I needed to know.” 

Glorfindel waited until Elrond and his wife had left and then left the hall on his own.  His first task was to discover where the room numbers were hidden, for he saw nothing on any door or panel to indicate a number.  He walked up and down hallways for quite some time before he stopped concentrating on the doors and began to look at the rest of the picture. 

He noted, quite conveniently, that each door had a woven mat outside of it.  Upon further investigation, he grinned to see that each mat had, in the lower right corner, a number written upon it in red or black ink.  Glorfindel concluded his search rather easily at the front door of room 204. 

His knock was answered almost immediately.  “Lord Glorfindel, I had hoped you would understand the meaning of my note.  Please, come in, come in,” offered Erestor warmly, moving aside. 

“Just for a little while, perhaps, thank you, Lord Erestor,” replied Glorfindel.  He stepped inside, taking in the cozy atmosphere of a place that had been lived in for some time.  Hanging on one wall were a variety of drawings, and Glorfindel delighted in the fact he recognized a few of the faces.  “Your sisters,” he said, pointing to one of the images.  “How are they?  I assume they escaped as well.” 

“Yes, they did, and they are all doing well, thank you.”  Erestor closed the door and went to the fireplace, where he had a steaming kettle waiting.  “I thought you might enjoy some hot chocolate before bed,” he said as he prepared a mug for each of them. 

“You remembered,” answered Glorfindel with a smile, sitting down on a plush velvet couch.  He realized upon seeing three other doorways that Erestor’s quarters were much larger than the guest rooms.  “Are your sisters living here?   

“Two of them are.  Giliel married a soldier from Greenwood but she and her family visit occasionally.  Between my sisters, I have been an uncle eight times,” Erestor said proudly.  “Five nieces, three nephews.” 

“Congratulations,” said Glorfindel.  “I imagine these are all of them,” he said, motioning to the various Elflings portrayed in the pictures.” 

“Some of those are of Elrond and Celebrian’s children.  Arwen would always pose so beautifully for me when she was a little girl, and once in a great while I would have a rare chance to catch the twins dozed off so that I could draw them.” 

“These are yours,” Glorfindel realized.  He stood up and went back to the wall and took note of the signature in the corner of each drawing.  “Very nice.  You have quite a talent.” 

Erestor smiled and joined Glorfindel by the drawings.  “I could tell you more about all of them, but I fear that could bore you.” 

“Bore me?  Erestor, I just spent the last four thousand years by mysElf in the dark halls with only Namo for company.  Do tell me of your family, and of anything and everything else you can think of.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

-=-Chapter Six-=- 
 

The pair spent the next few hours reminiscing, with Erestor telling Glorfindel about all he had missed in his absence.  The conversation was pleasant, but both Elves were visibly nervous the entire time.   

As Erestor stifled his first yawn, Glorfindel set his long empty cocoa mug aside.  “Well, I suppose I should head back to my rooms.  It is getting late."  Glorfindel laughed uneasily as he stood up, Erestor mirroring his actions.  "I wonder if I will be able to find my way back to my rooms." 

Erestor nodded and walked Glorfindel to the door.  "Well, if you get lost, you can always come back here and I would be more than happy to help you out." 

"If I can find my way back after getting lost." 

"Or you could just stay here."  Erestor looked away and added, "If you wanted." 

Glorfindel reached out to Erestor, tilting his chin back up.  "If I wanted?  What is it you want, Erestor?” 

When Glorfindel received no answer, he dropped his hand away and took hold of the knob of the door.  “Thank you for a nice evening,” he said before stepping into the hallway.  He was halfway down the corridor before he was called back. 

“Wait!” 

As he turned around, Glorfindel saw Erestor standing just outside the room, one hand on the doorway.  “Please... I... I...”  Erestor looked down at the floor as Glorfindel walked back to him. 

Instead of making Erestor look up at him, Glorfindel lowered himsElf down slightly and looked up at the dark haired Elf.  “Do YOU want me to stay, Erestor?”  Slowly, Erestor nodded.  Glorfindel stood back up and ran the back of his hand along Erestor’s cheek, brushing back the black hair.  “I missed you,” he whispered. 

Erestor’s hands came up to rest lightly on Glorfindel’s shoulders.  “I prayed every night that you would come back.” 

Glorfindel maneuvered them so that Erestor’s back was against the wall of the hallway, beside the open door.  “You constantly occupied my thoughts, every moment of my solitude.  I felt terrible how we parted, but I... at least you knew of my desire before I died.  I held out hope that you... that you might have waited for me.” 

“I did wait for you,” answered Erestor.  He looked about ready to cry as he said hoarsely, “You said you would be right behind me.” 

“A promise I never meant to break.”  Glorfindel closed his eyes and tears slid down his cheeks.  When he looked at Erestor again, he said, “I never want to leave you again.” 

“I want you to stay.  Please, stay,” begged Erestor softly. 

A little ways down the corridor, a single door was cracked open slightly.  The elleth who had been peeking out at them cleared her throat and hissed, “Kiss each other and be done with it already!  I have waited long enough for this day,” added Erevil with a teasing grin. 

“As always, Erevil, your advice is sound,” announced Glorfindel before he licked his lips and sought Erestor’s mouth with his own.  They kissed, slow at first as they timidly explored each other’s mouths with quick flicks of their tongues.  Their passion grew, and before either of them knew how they had made it into the position, Glorfindel had Erestor pinned against the wall with his hands over his head. 

“And you thought he was going to deflower me,” laughed the lady as she went back into her room to give her brother and his new lover a bit more privacy. 

“Shall we pick up where we left off, then?” asked Glorfindel between kisses to Erestor’s neck.  “I seem to recall something similar to this.” 

“I was naked then,” panted Erestor.  “You have yet to undress me.” 

“How truly thoughtless of me.”  Glorfindel let go of his hold on Erestor’s wrists and reached for the high buttoned collar, fumbling with the fabric. 

Erestor leaned forward, his own hands unlacing Glorfindel’s jerkin.  “Go ahead.  Rip it off,” he said after nipping Glorfindel’s ear.  “I can buy more.” 

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and then fisted the material of the collar in each hand.  “Are you certain?” 

“Do it,” dared Erestor.  An audible rip sounded through the hallway as dozens of pearl buttons flew in every direction and hit the floor, rolling down the hallway.  Erestor looked down, finding the fabric open now to his navel, exposing a white shirt beneath the robes.  He tore the rest of the way himsElf, spraying the rest of the pearls onto the floor. 

Now that Erestor was indecently exposed, Glorfindel hastily removed the jerkin and shirt he was wearing, followed by his boots.  Erestor followed suit, and shrugged off the robes, so that moments later the only thing between them was a pair of breeches that Glorfindel fumbled to get open and a long shirt that didn’t quite make it to Erestor’s thighs. 

“You do realize we should probably go into your room for this,” remarked Glorfindel as he managed to unknot his pants. 

“If we go into my room, one of us will more than likely have a sudden rational thought.  I really do not think we should take that chance.” 

“As you wish.  Now, where were we?”  Erection now freed, Glorfindel launched himsElf back upon Erestor, and the pair continued where they had left off with the exception being that they were both now willing members of the event.  “Damn, I forgot to bring oil,” hissed Glorfindel as he parted his lips from Erestor’s in order to breathe. 

“You will not need it,” Erestor assured him.  “I worked that out ahead of time.” 

“Did you?”  Glorfindel closed his eyes, calming himsElf lest he prematurely come.  The thought alone of Erestor preparing himsElf on his own before he arrived, of using his own fingers to lubricate himsElf and widen the passage was enough for Glorfindel’s cock to weep.  “Turn around and spread your legs.  I want to see that pretty little arse of yours,” he demanded. 

With a groan, Erestor did as he was told, rising up on his toes as well to gain enough height to match Glorfindel.  “Oh, take me now, I have waited far too long,” he moaned. 

“So have I,” agreed Glorfindel.  He wet one finger in his mouth and used it to test his lover’s passage.  Erestor gasped, pushing back.  “I see you have changed your mind about a few things.” 

“Stop teasing me, please!” begged Erestor as the finger was withdrawn. 

Glorfindel moved to position his feet on either side of Erestor’s while he pushed the black hair over one shoulder.  “Ready?” he asked, whispering into Erestor’s ear before using his tongue to trace the curve of it.  A whimper was all he received, but Glorfindel took it to mean yes. 

Guiding his cock into the prepared passageway, Glorfindel stopped abruptly as he felt Erestor clench around him.  “Should I stop?” 

“Just for a moment,” panted Erestor.  “I never thought... I had no idea how big you were.” 

To this, Glorfindel grinned.  “Just tell me when you are ready.”  With one hand on the wall for support, another reached around to stroke his lover.  “Whenever you are ready.” 

“Oh!  Oh, I think I might be ready now,” answered Erestor, his head rolling back to rest against Glorfindel’s shoulder. 

With one slow thrust, Glorfindel penetrated Erestor the rest of the way.  He found there was no reason for him to withdraw and do anything more, for Erestor’s muscles began to spasm, both inside and out.  “Sorry... I... I cannot stop,” Erestor apologized as warm liquid began to run down his head and over Glorfindel’s fist. 

“Do not dare,” said Glorfindel through clenched teeth as he gave a few shallow thrusts and felt himsElf go.  Letting Erestor’s limp erection slip out of his hand, Glorfindel used his arm to wrap around Erestor’s waist and held him close as they rode out the final tremors of passion together.  When they both relaxed enough for Glorfindel to slip out of the velvet passage, he said, “We need to do that again.  As soon as possible.” 

Erestor pulled away slowly but kept hold on one of his lover’s hands.  The spent Elf leaned his back against the wall and surveyed the piles of clothing, the multitude of shiny buttons that peppered the hallway, and the mess on the floor.  “The maids will have my head if we leave things like this.” 

“Which one?” grinned Glorfindel.  He was shoved halfheartedly as he bent down to gather up his discarded clothing.  “I changed my mind,” he said, chucking the clothes into the room.  “I have decided to stay the night.” 

“I thought you were staying forever,” corrected Erestor. 

“Well, if you insist.  Wait, how big is your bathtub?” Glorfindel asked suddenly. 

“I have a private bath that would easily fit three.  Why?” 

“Then I am most certainly staying forever,” Glorfindel agreed. 

As they tidied up the mess best as they could and bantered back and forth, neither heard the approach of a small ground from the north corridor, coming from the direction of the Hall of Fire.  It was as Glorfindel was retrieving an errant boot and Erestor was picking up the last of the wayward buttons that Lord Elrond, his wife, and his children came around the corner. 

“Oh my... Arwen, do not look,” said her father sternly, using his hand to cover her eyes. 

“Way to go, Lord Erestor!” shouted Elrohir while Elladan whistled loudly. 

Celebrian looked to her husband with a smirk.  “Does this mean I do not need to make that list of eligible ladies for you to introduce Glorfindel to?” 

“Everyone, back to the hall,” directed Elrond, turning the party right around.  “And,” he said rather loudly, “when we return in FIVE MINUTES, I will see a completely empty hallway.” 

Glorfindel, his cheeks crimson, turned to Erestor in utter embarrassment.  “I have a feeling I have not made the best first impression.” 

“At least you remembered to retie your breaches,” said Erestor as he shoved Glorfindel into his rooms and shut the door.  “I just bared my arse to all five of them!” 

“I suppose it might be a little late to ask if you have a large bed or not,” said Glorfindel suddenly after they had cleaned themselves up a bit. 

“Actually, I do have a big bed, and despite my earlier dislike of the idea some time ago, I would gladly share a room with you now.”  Erestor led Glorfindel into the bedroom, making the slayer smile upon seeing the rich greens and blues that had been chosen.  “Make yoursElf comfortable, please,” Erestor said as he turned down the covers and crawled in.  The shirt was discarded, tossed over the side of the bed onto the floor. 

Glorfindel smirked as he removed the last bit of clothing he wore, and then he pounced onto the bed, landing atop Erestor.  “I like this position,” he said. 

“Get in bed,” Erestor scolded him.  “We will have time for more of that tomorrow.  I have my entire schedule cleared.” 

“I thought that you told Elrond that you had a long day ahead of you.” 

“I thought perhaps I would, but I think now we should just sleep in.” 

“Maybe you can,” sighed Glorfindel as he rolled off of his lover and crawled under the blankets to nuzzle and grope him, “but I am to take a tour of the house with the Chief Counselor, so I will need to be up bright and early.” 

“If you truly want to be up bright and early, by all means,” said Erestor, his own hands dancing over Glorfindel’s bare flesh, “but I am going to sleep in and am officially giving you notice that the tour has been rescheduled for noon.  No, after lunch.” 

Glorfindel stilled his hands and lifted his head.  “You.” 

“What?” 

“You.  You little sneak.  You might have told me.” 

“Told you what?” grinned Erestor.  “I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Bull.  Fucking.  Shite.”  Glorfindel rolled up atop Erestor again.  “You are the bloody Chief Counselor.” 

“That would be me,” admitted Erestor.  “Thanks to about, oh, six years of extremely intense learning and excellent tutoring, followed by a number of wonderful scholarly experiences in Lindon and Mithlond.” 

“In that case,” said Glorfindel, “I think you should postpone the tour until the following day.” 

“Oh?  Why is that?” 

“I forsee you being asleep at noon, and for some time after.” 

“Why is that?” asked Erestor. 

“Because I intend to make love to you for the rest of the night.”