A/N Many closet stories seem to have been written like a decade ago...Ah, but that is how things are, yes? Another stupid attempt at humor, simply because I like "harmlessly" hurting people.

No, not slash. Sorry.

I don't own anything.

Reviews welcome.

There were days when it was quiet, and other days when it was busy and stressful. Well, most days were not too stressful, it just depends on what was happening that made it stressful. Like, the twins causing grief to their father or they were seriously injured. Other reasons were threats so close to the borders.

Now, if one really wants stressful, or for a better term: odd…

Once upon a time in the early morning, a certain balrog-slayer was enjoying the sight of the rising sun and her magnificent rays casting beautiful hues across the treetops, on the balcony of course. It was a normal day, like any other day. Completely silent save for the birds and sounds of nature.

Glorfindel grinned. The half-Vanya was one that appreciated the things in Arda greatly. That likely was a result of having been to Mandos and back…and if one was in that dead, grey, lifeless place, one most certainly will REALLY appreciate the life outside. Besides, each day could be the last, and truly the last day of living.

Death from what, one may ask? Plenty. Twins, and Erestor.

Of course Glorfindel loved each of them. Elladan and Elrohir being like nephews to him, and Erestor like a brother he never had. But back on track…there was the one time Elrohir dumped honey all over the renowned elf. The younger twin said it was an accident, and Glorfindel was very close to actually believing it.

Honey collecting, simply to pass the time, and Elrohir had conveniently placed the big vat of golden goo right where Glorfindel tripped over it and fell with a big thud. To put it lightly he did glow a bit more, and the bees certainly loved him to pieces. And stings as well.

The poor servants had a tough time scrubbing the dried honey off the floors though…

As for Erestor, the poor overly stern advisor, and maybe overly organized, he and the balrog-slayer had a mutual friendship. That at least is what Erestor said. Glorfindel could easily tell it was more than that. Such an easy target…ah, but still, serious business did happen. Even when things got a bit out of hand, they managed to pull through.

The time for early warm ups was coming close, and Glorfindel arose from his lounging chair and entered the cream colored room. He dressed appropriately for the day, which consisted of gold, and strangely enough: black. If he were still covered in honey, then he would be a bee.

No, that is not the entire reason for the odd colors. Back in Valinor, the Vanyar primarily adorned themselves in the colors of birds, more so the birds of paradise. Even the circlets, now that was something. Glorfindel ended up making a silver circlet a century after arriving in Imladris, and a couple of small dangly objects behind it to resemble the odd feathers certain birds of paradise had. Being half Noldo as well, that would ease the need to be "show-offy". Everyone in Imladris found it amusing when they first saw it, but eventually it settled. Only the family members of Elrond (and close friends) occasionally commented on it. It was a brief reminder of home.

A small change from the stupid flowers at least. Besides, there was not anything formal going on, so might as well dress as a terrifying little bugger. One that can be so harmless, yet so dangerous at the same time.

Now, there was one last thing…

The closet.

Glorfindel strode towards the dreaded thing. That was where he stored his sword, and other weapons besides. And some odd trinkets.

…and maybe some socks. Old ones, for extra detail.

And a bunch of junk as well. To be blunt, no one should ever look in there except for the owner.

It was so disorganized it would make even the trainees freak. But Glorfindel was captain anyway, and he could do whatever he wanted with his…stash.

Even then, the half-Vanya had slowly grown careless with whatever he put in there, except for his weapons. For means sake, he simply kept the storage spot partly open: not all the way closed. So, whatever "interesting" thing he found during the day he simply tossed inside, and again let the doors drift partly open.

Glorfindel opened one of the doors and reached inside the dark, creepy space. The elf needed to toss certain things out to get to the assigned spot where the weapons were stored in, but Glorfindel will throw it all back in pretty soon. He felt the sheath of one his weapons and drew his hand back out into the open, quickly checking the quality of the blade.

…Well, bad luck. And he was late.

The normally cheery elf frowned. He did not have time to dig further in for a better sword! Well, he could always get one from the barracks, but no, he rather use one of his own swords. It was a bit like a horse: one is familiar with the rider (in this case, the wielder), and vice versa.

Glorfindel grit his teeth and began another tedious search. It should not be too bad; it is not like anyone will suddenly barge into the room.

How very wrong he was.

A big slam from the door and Glorfindel unintentionally yelped. No one ever came in this early, and especially not that loudly! Looking to see the intruder, the Vanya's face melted into horror.

The overly organized Erestor.

"I was supposed to have this week's reports last night, Glorfindel." Erestor began quite rapidly and heatedly, not noticing the mess that was on the floor. Why was Erestor awake this early anyway?

Wait…reports? Oh.

"Well, ah…" Glorfindel began uncertainly. This might be the most embarrassing moment in this second life. Here, with a bunch of garbage all over the floor, and having forgotten his duty!

Erestor obviously did not notice, "I do not know if you were scheming with the twins or getting kicked in the arse by Asfaloth or by lord Elrond, but if I knew any bett-" The elf looked down finally as he stepped on something hard. Seeing the mess, disbelief and perhaps even distress flashed across his eyes. Slowly, Erestor looked up to meet the blue eyes of Glorfindel. The latter smiled sheepishly.

"What is all this!?" Erestor practically yelled, "Here we all thought you were organized!"

Glorfindel blinked rapidly at that accusation, "It…it is not-" He stuttered. Why now was his clever tongue being caught?

"No! This is not acceptable!" The other elf about hissed and marched carefully over.

Now Glorfindel was a bit on the defensive, "You are not my naneth, mellon. And for Varda's sake, Erestor! Is this not a bit of an overreaction?"

"Over-" Erestor blinked, now his own voice being caught. Very interesting morning for sure, when both ellyn of witty minds and tongues are at a loss.

Glorfindel hugged the sword sheath while taking one step closer, "It is organized chaos, what is in there."

Erestor opened his mouth to (not) send a bad remark. Now, the elf was one that favored long tunics, and combined with the length of his clothing, and stepping on a curved object, slipped and went flying into Glorfindel, "Ai!"

Glorfindel instinctively went out to prevent Erestor from falling in a way that could cause broken bones, however he too somehow slipped on an object on the floor, and with his bee-clothing, it caught the edge of one of the closet doors. Both elves bonked into each other, and (play appropriate classical music involving dancing flower fairies) gracefully half spun and fell into different directions. Erestor, unfortunately, landed in the closet, and Glorfindel face planted into the opposing door, and his tunic tugged on the other one.

The doors clicked shut.

It took a bit of time for both of them to snap out of their daze, the yellow-head being quicker.

Glorfindel groaned and pulled himself up, while shaking his head (now the golden mane being in a complete disarray). Realizing what happened, and seeing the doors closed, shot up, "Erestor!" And immediately grabbed one of the handles to pull it open. To no avail.

"You idiot." Came a muffled voice from inside, "What under the stars of Varda have you got in here!? I would think the sons of Elrond would be like this!"

"Organized chaos." Glorfindel repeated in a murmur.

"Well, it does not matter. Get me out of here, and we will deal with this later."

"I cannot…" Glorfindel said mournfully.

There was a long pause before Erestor sharply, and almost in a disturbed voice, asked, "What do you mean 'I cannot'? Pull the handles! Or…the key! Yes! Find that!"

Glorfindel's shoulders slumped. When was the last time he even saw that thing? This did not bode well. But it did not hurt to look. Besides, Erestor might get panicky being in a small space pretty soon (and being mentally scarred for life with what is in the closet). Glorfindel might have unwittingly threw it out on the floor.

"I will look." The Vanya said before getting down on the floor to find the missing key. Nothing. The ellon tried to remember what the blasted thing looked like. Soon he moved to look all over the place (probably not thoroughly, since time was pressing on his mind).

"Well?" came another noise from the closet.

"I cannot find it!" Glorfindel slammed his hands on a hard surface in frustration. Why was he the one that had to receive the lock-down closets? Life was so unfair. Little did he know that the trapped elf paled and about fainted inside.

"Well…" the advisor began with lack of clarity, "…find something to smash the handles, or…pick lock it?"

"Elladan!" Glorfindel said aloud, "Brilliant idea, mellon!" The bell rang in the distance. He may have missed warm ups…but dang it he was not going to miss breakfast, "I will be right back with a way out for you!"

"Wait, what? No! Do not leave me here!" Erestor banged on the doors without hope. He stopped eventually when there was no answer. Fear and panic began building up from being locked in a small space, darkness, in the biggest pigsty he believed he had ever seen, and all alone. Still no response, "…Glorfindel?"

A/N Will Glorfindel find the master picklocker in time? Will Erestor survive the terrors of garbage and socks? Or will the balrog-slayer and the son of Elrond be too late to save the advisor from having a heart attack? Stay tuned for more.