Lovers' Day Mishaps
Chapter 1
Hello, lovely readers! This is Airel, as usual. I had this idea a long while ago: aren't bachelor elves lonely?
This story sprang into my mind, and I've been writing like crazy!
I hope you guys all have a great summer vacation, I'm still doing schoolwork (darn!)
In this fanfic, you will see the cheerful side of Erestor, the lover side of Glorfindel, and the clever side of Lindir.
Plus there will be a lot of OC's.
Oh, and by the way, Elladan and Elrohir are still as naughty as ever.
Remember, everyone, Celebrian (Elrond's wife) and Thranduil's wife are still alive at this time.
Hope you enjoy it!
-Airel
"NO," said Glorfindel. The Balrog-slayer's two golden eyebrows were fiercely knotted above his eyes, his hands clenched and his teeth gritted together. The only thing that betrayed our golden warrior's fear was the sweat beading around his face.
"C'mon, Glorfy," begged Elladan. "Y–"
"My name," said Glorfindel, a dangerous glint beginning to grow in his eyes, "is not 'Glorfy', nor will it ever be. And as for the Lovers' Day Festival, that is entirely out of question. Not on my life. Over my dead body."
"That can be arranged," said Elrohir. "But Elladan doesn't like blood. So let's put it this way: you go to the festival with a lady that we choose, and we don't tell Dad that you were the one who broke Mom's antique vase from Doriath. Both way, it's a win-win."
"Not really," mumbled Glorfindel.
"I beg to differ," said Elladan brightly. "If we do this our way, Glorfy, Elrohir and I get the honour of seeing Rivendell's bravest warrior humiliated, and you get a free pass from our father's legendary temper."
"Yes, but–"
"No buts. We already have the date planned for you."
"DATE?"
While this torturous conversation was going on, Lindir was having a marvelous time with Erestor, testing out a new cake recipe.
"Could do with a bit less sugar," suggested Erestor.
"Don't be such a wet blanket," retorted one of the cooks. "We all know you like the bland cakes. Lindir? What do you think?"
Lindir could not answer; he had a mouthful of cake crumbs in his mouth and he feared what would happen to the freshly polished floor if he dared speak.
Once he swallowed the whole shebang, Lindir cleared his throat.
"That," he said, drawing out the syllables, "was heaven."
"Someone who appreciates my work!" beamed the cook, and Erestor rolled his eyes.
"NO!" came Glorfindel's voice from the hall.
"Uh oh," said Lindir. "Better run. See you later, and thank you!"
He sprinted in the opposite direction of where the said elf's voice was coming from, and promptly ran smack into Silinde.
"Sorry!" Lindir said, and did a quick circle around his friend.
"Don't scamper around all day, Lindir," Silinde called. "Lord Elrond says all elves are to help with the Lovers' Day Festival preparations, since it's next week. Did you know that Haldir and his brothers are coming? I heard that the twins have blackmailed every bachelor elf into coming to Rivendell with a date. From what I heard, Haldir's coming with the beautiful Uruviel. I wonder how that happened!"
"Most likely Orophin asked," replied Lindir as he ran. "Haldir would rather cut off his own head than ask a lady to the festival. No offense."
"It's true," said Silinde. "Well, anyways, see you around. I'm going to ask Elwen to the festival. She hates me more than Haldir does.* Wish me luck."
"Good luck," said Lindir, but Silinde was now too far away to hear.
Lindir headed towards a crowd of elves near the library.
"What's going on?" he said.
"We're dividing up the cleaning," someone replied. "You're weeding and watering the garden with Erestor."
"Thanks," said Lindir, and he walked to the garden, feeling a bit giddy. It wasn't every day that an elf could get a chore he actually liked. And as for the garden– that was surely better than scrubbing dishes, wasn't it?
Glorfindel was mopping the floor violently when Erestor found him.
"Er… hi," said Erestor.
"Good afternoon," Glorfindel barked. "What do you want?"
"…never mind."
Erestor scooted away as fast as he could to the garden, where he was supposed to be watering the petunias.
"What's wrong?" asked Lindir. Erestor frowned.
"Our grumpy friend over there is in a snit again."
"Oh. The twins did something bad again, didn't they?"
"Who knows?"
Not exactly, dear Reader. The twins were completely innocent for once; it was merely Glorfindel being a bother. He had been thinking about this festival for a very long time already, since last winter, and was hoping he could conveniently catch a cold. But then again, elves don't get sick.
"I hate Lovers' Day," he mumbled. And, of course, dear Reader, it was true. Lovers' Day, or Valentine's Day in your world, is a strain and a dreadful position to be in if you are a single elf. Glorfindel had gone through hundreds of Lovers' Days in his room, staring at the rosebush below his window. It didn't help that his fans (who only cared about his Balrog-slaying skills) kept swarming through Rivendell searching for him.
"Screw love!" Glorfindel flung the mop at the nearest thing, which was Silinde.
"OWCH!"
Glorfindel gave him a withering glance and went to fetch his mop (which had bonked Silinde's head, ricocheted around crazily, and landed in the water fountain outside).
"Love problems?" asked Silinde. "You?"
"SHUT UP," Glorfindel returned, and Silinde shut up.
He mopped the room over again, and stomped to the next. Spring cleaning– yet another of Rivendell's best warrior's pet peeves.
At last, evening came, and the elves changed into cleaner clothes. Glorfindel sat glumly outside the dining hall and watched the twins (who were walking around the corner) with narrowed eyes. His ears pricked up as he heard his name.
"… lady… elf… festival," said Elladan. (Or was it Elrohir?)
"… dress him up… lady… party," said Elrohir. (Or was it Elladan?)
Curse the twins and their look-alikeness! Glorfindel scowled again.
"… walls… ears," said one of the twins (this was probably Elladan, who was a bit smarter than the other).
They walked out of earshot, and Glorfindel hissed to himself.
He shuddered to think who in Rivendell (or Lothlorien, or Mirkwood, since all elves were gathering on Lovers' Day) the twins would choose. For his date.
Glorfindel, to be honest, was already regretting the moment he let the twins talk him into this.
At about twilight, Lindir finished his dinner. It was the price of being temporary gardener: those flowers drank more water than they should. Especially the posies. Then there was weeding, which Erestor did, and trimming the bushes, which took more time, since Lindir could not get the hang of using the clippers.
But anyway, it was done. He sighed, and drank the rest of his soup. Lovers' Day was next week, and Lindir was sure to be sitting in the shadows, alone, like all the other years.
Erestor popped out of nowhere and Lindir jumped.
"What is it?"
Erestor's hair was nearly standing on end (a pitiful sight), his eyes were three times as big, and his usually perfectly clipped nails were chewed up and tattered.
"Calamity! Distress!" moaned Erestor.
"Erestor–"
"Doom! DOOM!"
"Uh–"
"PLAGUE upon those TWINS!"
"But–"
"CATASTROPHE–DISASTER–MISHAPPENINGS–oh, WOE!"
"AI VALAR, JUST TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!"
Erestor, surprised by Lindir's sudden outburst, calmed down a bit.
"The TWINS took my BEST CALLIGRAHY PAPER as well as MY FAVOURITE PEN and MY FAVOURITE INK and–"
"Let me guess, your favourite bunny slippers, too," said Lindir drily.
"YES!" screamed Erestor. "Spare me this TRIBULATION!"
"You must've swallowed a thesaurus," said Lindir. "Well, calm down. Have some grapes here. I'm going to bed, and if I'm woken up before noon, someone will have to pay."
*Haldir does NOT like Silinde. Let's just say the incident involved paint guns and whoopie cushions.