A/n: okay. New story. Written over the last year and a half and still not finished. Hopefully some feedback will give me some inspiration. Enjoy.

She saw the stool rocking beneath him. She shook her head, rolling her eyes. If he fell, she was not going to save him this time! She wasn't! A tiny voice in the back of her mind snorted. Of course she would. She always did.

"Glorfindel, get off that stool before you fall off," she said, as she stacked books in a pile upon the table.

He did not even look at her. "I am almost finished. Leave me be elleth!" He reached across to an opposite shelf, the stool toppling over, sending Glorfindel and the books falling the long way to the soft ground. Soft? Glorfindel realized then that his little assistant had thrown herself beneath him to break his fall. He cursed her foolhardiness, and then himself, overwhelmed with guilt. She was forever rescuing him, damn her! He was a grown ellon, twice her age! He could take care of himself. He checked her gently for injuries, and not liking what he found, hefted her slight weight into his arms, taking her to the House of Healing. Elrond would not be happy with him. This was not the first time she had come to harm through sparing him from it.

He deposited her upon one of the many beds in the lightened room, and Elrond came over to him, shaking his head.

"My friend, what happened? This is not the first time that you have brought your young assistant to me in such a state. What did she save you from this time?" Glorfindel glared at Elrond.

I knew he'd say that, thought Glorfindel, before saying aloud, "This is only the third time," indignantly, smoothing the hair from her forehead. She was such a little thing, but she was fiercely protective of him, which often resulted in her unconscious, in the Healing rooms. Elrond just shook his head. "Glorfindel, either start listening to her when she says that something is dangerous, or wait until she is not there before attempting it! I cannot keep healing her like this. It is not good for her."

Glorfindel stroked the side of her face with a tenderness he would never show her when she was awake. It was always the same. The first time, when a horse had reared in the stable, spooked by a noise from outside, she had pushed him out of the way of the flailing hooves, only to be struck by one herself. She had said not to go near the skittish horse whilst the black smiths were plying their trade outside the stable. He had been too confident in his abilities to listen. She was right. A loud clang had startled the shaking horse, and upon pushing Glorfindel out of the way, she herself had been struck.

"I'm beginning to think you like to see her laid out like this."

Elrond was wrong. It was far worse for Glorfindel, and a much harsher punishment to see her come to harm each time she spared him from it. And he had tried to heed her warnings, if only to prevent her from harm, but he just could not. It never occurred to him the accidents that could occur after so many millennia of living. And it seemed that many of his habits resulted in her being in bed. Bar one. There was one habit of his that never ended with her in bed. And he was glad, for he did not want a bed partner. Those he had an endless supply of. He thought, almost distastefully. Almost. He wanted an assistant, and as time passed, a friend. Although, recently, it appeared she was quickly becoming a body guard of the staunchest and strangest kinds, taking the fall before he could.

He shook his head, as though to dispel it of its thoughts, and focused on her sleeping face once more. Elrond had healed her, and had long since left his friend to contemplate his error. Again.

She opened her eyes, to see him beside her. Glorfindel shook his head at her.

"You were seriously hurt this time Sallahra," he said gravely. "Neither I nor the books were a load you should have had fall upon you. No matter what the reason."

"I was trying to catch you" she commented wryly, "But you proved too oafish. I settled for breaking your fall."

"You shouldn't of. I can take care of myself. You were seriously hurt."

"But at least you are unharmed, "she said, smiling at him weakly.

He cursed himself, and her undying loyalty. "Do you not see Sallahra? You cannot keep doing this! One day you will do yourself an injury that Elrond cannot heal! I am a warrior, I can take care of myself!"

Sallahra raised an eyebrow. "If you can take care of yourself, why am I always the one saving you Glorfindel?" he remained silent.

"Well maybe if you listened to me, Glorfindel," she continued "This would not happen." She said, before turning from him. She adored him, loved him more than anything she ever had in all her long life, but she did not tell him. Loving him would be a death sentence, for he loved many, yet would be with none. And she did not even warrant a chance to lay in his bed, as she had dispelled any notions he might have had about that in the first few days of her employment, turning around and slapping his hand away whenever it had tried to 'accidentally' come into contact with her behind, and at one point, even telling him to his face that she would never, ever share his bed. That was long before she found herself lonely at night, longing for an embrace she realized she had denied herself of. Before she realized that she no longer worked for him, she served him. Before she realized that the only thing she could ever think about, no matter how hard she tried, was him.

"Why must you do this? Why must you repetitively cause yourself harm in order to spare me from it?", he demanded.

"Because you mean more to me than my own life does, Glorfindel, you know that." Her voice was quiet in the large room, as she lay facing away from him. "Now leave me. I wish to sleep,"

Glorfindel reached out to place a hand upon her shoulder, opened his mouth to say something, anything, but stopped. There were no words. He never had the words. There was nothing he could say to her that she would want to hear.

'Stop rescuing me, Sallahra," he whispered to her, as she slept. "I cannot bare to see you hurt again for my sake."

All who saw the two together thought that they were a bound couple, Sallahra often predicting Glorfindels needs, and he often getting the small things done for her, which she had no time to do for herself. Not that he had time either, but he always seemed to make time for his little dark haired assistant. Glorfindel could be quite scatterbrained at times, but she would always know exactly were he needed to be, what he would be doing, and what he would need. (Something that he had never managed to sort out for himself, ever.)

There was only one problem. Or rather, several. His love was for not one, but for many. The elleths who he constantly took to his bed occupied his attentions to the point where he claimed he could never settle down with one. One in particular, Gwyneth, was most persistent, lathering Glorfindel with affection. Sallahra did not like it. She would place money on the fact that it wasn't Glorfindels prowess she wanted. It was the title.

But still, no matter what she said, Glorfindel refused to believe her. She wondered how long it would be this time, before she had to save him once more

A/N. please review. I'm really lost here. Thanks all. I know where this is going, I have most of it written. But do you want to read it? ideas for other stories welcome too.ta