Glorfindel sighed as he walked down the dark corridor. He had barely returned from an exhaustive patrol, and yet still was forced to deliver a written report to Erestor. It wasn't that he didn't like the councilor—though they incessantly argued—he would just much rather be sleeping.
He pushed open the door to Erestor's office without preamble, speaking even before he crossed the threshold. "Elrond insisted I deliver my report to you tonight instead of waiting a measly three hours till mor-"
His rant was abruptly cut off as his eyes roved over the room, taking notice of the elf-Lord slumped at his desk, cheek pressed against a sheaf of parchment. There was a splatter of ink on his nose and numerous open books and letters spilled across the dark wood.
Erestor was asleep.
Error 3028. Glorfindel.elf has stopped working. The mighty balrog-slayer was frozen, hand still raised, holding the folded report ready to deliver.
Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower could not remember a time he had seen Erestor less than perfectly put-together, let alone asleep at his work—or ever. When the twins were stealing his books, when Elrond loaded weeks of work upon him, when Galadriel and Celeborn visited—he was always unruffled, though perhaps irritated, and it shook Glorfindel. More than he expected.
His hand slowly fell, face stunned, and he took a hesitant step forward, waiting for Erestor to spring up and yell "You're late!" or something of the kind.
But he didn't, simply breathing softly, looking more relaxed, content even, than Glorfindel had ever seen. The Seneschal took another step forward, until he was standing in front of the desk, hand awkwardly hovering above Erestors head.
But he couldn't. Erestor was so...
It was the first time Glorfindel really noticed the bags under the advisors eyes, noticed the less-than-elvish way his fingers curled even when he was not gripping a quill.
So he did nothing, simply setting the report on top of one of the open books and moving around the desk. He removed the paper from under Erestors hand and gently held his shoulders, pushing him back until he rested against the chair back.
Erestor made a small noise yet did not wake—much to Glorfindels relief, for he could imagine how Erestor would react if he were to awake in this moment.
The councilors cloak was draped over a nearby chair, forgotten, and Glorfindel shook his head, grinning. For all Erestor's complaints of being cold, he always acted like his cloak was a great inconvenience.
Glorfindel shook it out before laying it over Erestor gently, tucking it under his still arms. He lingered perhaps a moment longer than he intended, before silently leaving the office. He closed the door, walking down the corridor more than ready to follow Erestor's example.
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Over the next few days Glorfindel found himself paying more attention to Erestor. Not for the purpose of mocking or teasing him as usual, simply because his mind would not rest if Erestor was in the room—forcing his gaze to look at weary eyes and cheeks thinner than he remembered.
Elrond noticed first. One would be hard-pressed to keep a secret from the Lord of Imladris, and he spent a great deal of time with Erestor and Glorfindel—the latter of whom was not exactly subtle.
However he did not trouble himself, knowing Glorfindel to be almost as stubborn as Erestor himself. He was probably just noticing Erestor's exhaustion, Elrond reasoned to himself.
Lady Celebrian was the next to notice, unsurprisingly. She was not often far from her husbands side, and by many was considered wiser than the elf-Lord himself—at least in matters concerning Elrond's right hands. Many a time she was the only barrier between Glorfindel's taunts and the destruction of the Last Homely House.
She chose to watch from afar, handling her sons while observing the situation unfold in front of her husbands oblivious eyes. When Glorfindel needed Celebrian's help, he would come of his own volition.
Erestor himself did not notice at all, too caught up in his work and his weariness to catch the fact that Glorfindel had not made an underhanded remark in over two days. He set aside the confusion of waking up under his cloak—convincing himself he must have been too tired to remember moving it—and continued on as usual.
—————————————
Four days passed in this fashion before Glorfindel decided he couldn't stand it, throwing off his bedsheets and garnering his cloak. He was simply worried for Imladris, of course, Erestor practically ran the place! He was just taking care of his home.
This was his mantra as he slipped down the corridor, sticking to the shadows as though expecting to be reprimanded. He stopped outside the councilor's office, taking a deep breath before knocking quietly.
A stretch of silence passed before he opened the door, fully expecting a glare and a stern lecture on courtesy. What met him instead was a sight reminiscent of the night he had delivered his report.
Erestor was sprawled over his desk, quill still in hand even as his eyes were half-closed from exhaustion. Glorfindel sighed, slipping inside and closing the door behind himself. He carefully picked up Erestor's hand, making sure not to smudge the ink underneath, before kneeling.
"Erestor? Erestor!"
There was no response, and Glofindel grimaced before steeling himslef. He was the balrog-slayer for Eru's sake, he could pick up one undersized advisor!
Placing one arm underneath Erestor's knees the other behind his this shoulders, Glorfindel stood, surprised at the lack of effort it took. Erestor really was small, even for a man who spent his days reading and writing instead of fighting.
Glorfindel frowned, glancing at the dark-haired elf once more before pulling the door open. He was immeasurably grateful it was night, for he could not imagine the looks he would get for traipsing around carrying his arch-rival.
He himself didn't know why he was doing it, only that something he had seen that first night had tugged on his steel heart in a distinctly un-Erestorish-way. Un-Erestoresque?
He shrugged, walking carefully down the hall until he reached the door leading to Erestor's room. He had never seen inside it, let alone been inside, and felt no small amount of awkwardness as he entered.
It was not exactly what he expected. Yes, it was definitely Erestor's room, there was no doubt of that, it was just...less tidy than Glorfindel thought it would be. There were books piled on every surface, even the bed.
He snorted softly. No wonder Erestor slept in his office. It was likely against his ethics to move a couple books so he could rest well. Glorfindel however, has no such qualms, stacking the books on the floor and instead laying the advisor on his bed.
It was a warm night, so he didn't bother with blankets, just depositing Erestor and exiting the room quickly. It felt like somewhere sacred...somewhere Glorfindel had no business being.
———————————
Celebrian was not surprised when Glorfindel came to ask for her advice on a matter, though she put on an admirable facade of concern. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and so sent Elladan and Elrohir to bother Lindir while she guided the Seneschal to a seat and offered him tea.
"How may I assist you Glorfindel?"
He took a sip of tea, grimacing and avoiding her eyes. Finally he spoke with no preamble, cutting to the heart of his problem, as warriors were wont to do.
"Lady Celebrian I have...I'm worried about Erestor."
Celebrian hid a smile behind her cup, raising an eyebrow and schooling her expression.
"May I ask why? You've never seemed concerned about him before."
Glorfindel opened his mouth to respond before shutting it again, pouting.
"Hmmm. Yes I know, but he just always seems so tired..."
He trailed off, taking another gulp of tea and coughing slightly. Celebrian set her own cup down, leaning forward slightly and waiting for Glorfindel to meet her eyes.
"Glorfindel, Erestor is the same as any other stubborn ellon." She raised an eyebrow as though to say 'like someone else I know.' "He likes feeling useful, and does not like showing weakness. Much like you and my husband."
Glorfindel was silent, having no response for her very reasonable argument.
"I understand your concern for Erestor, but I have done all I can for him. There is only so much of my mothering the elves of Imladris will accept."
She was smirking a little by now, and leaned back in her chair, watching as Glorfindels face fell.
"But what am I supposed to do?"
Celebrian simply smiled at him, taking another sip of tea. "That's your decision Glorfindel. Please tell Lindir to send the twins back if you see him."
With that she stood, almost floating out of the room, leaving a confused Seneschal behind.
Yet his resolve was hardened and he agreed. It was his decision now, and although Erestor and him weren't exactly friends, he wouldn't let the elf work himself to death.
———————————
Erestor jumped as Glorfindel slammed the tray down on top of his report, letting out a small shriek. The Seneschal was glaring down at him with narrowed eyes, arms on either side of his head.
"Eat." He pointed to the tray, upon which sat a portion of the dinner that had been served in the Hall of Fire that night.
Erestor stared at Glorfindel, too stunned to respond.
"You're thin. And you work too much. Eat."
Erestor opened and closed his mouth one more time. Then he simply picked up the spoon laying in front of him and took a taste of the soup.
When Glorfindel was sure Erestor was eating he took a seat, pulling the chair up to the desk and watching intently.
It made Erestor uncomfortable, but this whole experience was strange enough that he pushed it aside. He had no idea what was wrong with Glorfindel, to be showing up with food and forcing him to take a break.
When he had finished all the food on the desk Glorfindel nodded, picking up the tray with that stern look still on his face.
"Good. Now put all that paper away and get some sleep for once."
Erestor's eye started twitching, but before he could ask what in Arda was wrong with Glorfindel, he had disappeared.
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It happened again the next day. Except this time Glorfindel showed up with both lunch and dinner, and stayed in the office until Erestor left for his bedroom.
Nothing else changed. They still worked together terribly, still mocked each other's occupations at every opportunity, and made Elronds job that much more complicated; but every day, twice a day, they would sit in silence as Erestor ate and Glorfindel read, or drew, or stared.
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Then, one day, when Glorfindel was simultaneously grabbing helpings of dinner for himself and a plate next to him, someone sat down in Erestor's chair.
He turned, ready to ask what they thought they were doing, before his brain caught up to his eyes.
"Erestor?"
The dark-haired elf raised an eyebrow as he sat down, taking his seat as Councilor between Elrond and Glorfindel.
"No, it's Lady Galadriel. Yes it's me. What? Am I not allowed in the Hall of Fire now?"
Erestor was rather reminded of a fish as Glorfindel scrambled to apologize, mouth flapping even more than usual.
"No, no! I just haven't seen you in here in a while—what are you doing? I thought you had that thing, with whats-his-name, and that delegation order."
"I took a break. Is that so surprising?"
Glofindel stared at him. "Yes, actually."
Erestor just hummed, glancing down at the full plate in front of him. "Is this for me?"
"Yes, but err...I've been forcing you to eat in your office for two weeks, you don't- you don't take breaks Erestor, that's the problem!"
Erestor glanced at him, shrugging. "Well then I guess it's no longer a problem." He started buttering a slice of bread, ignoring Glorfindels stare. "I got tired of spending lunch with you, that's all."
Glorfindels eyebrows shot up. "Uhh you're still spending lunch with me..?"
"So I am."
Erestor turned away from him, signaling the conversation was over, though Glorfindel was still more confused than if Manwë himself had appeared.
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It was alarming how quickly Glorfindel was on his feet when Erestor's chair started scraping back. Both the councilor and Lord Elrond raised an eyebrow, and although a pink tinge appeared on Glorfindels cheeks, he stood strong.
"Where are you off to, Erestor?"
"My office I should think."
Blue eyes narrowed, and Erestor leaned back as gold hair brushed his arm.
"Absolutely not. I've finally dragged you down here and I'm not letting you go back to work!"
"Really Glor-eeah!"
Elronds plea was cut off as a sharp kick fell to his shin, and he looked indignantly at his far-too-innocent wife.
"Tell me husband, what do you think of the new queen of Mirkwood?"
Celebrian's hand grasped his shoulder, effectively turning him away from the confrontation happening behind him.
Thanks to her intervention, Glorfindel was able to slip away, following Erestor as he climbed the stairs to his office.
The moment before Erestor's hand fell on the doorknob there was a "hah!" And instead of brass his palm was resting on soft fabric and a hard chest.
He jerked away and looked up to see Glorfindel grinning down at him from in front of the door.
"No. Bad Erestor. No work."
Erestor glared at him, growling, trying and failing to push him out of the way.
"Glorfindel, move! This is my office and I order you out!"
"Not unless you go to bed!" Glorfindel said in a singsong voice, shuffling to the side to counteract Erestor.
"Why do you care so much?"
There was silence. Glorfindel looked down, confused expression on his face.
"I don't know. Why didn't you kick me out the first time I was in your office?"
"Because I was asleep!"
Glorfindel stared at Erestor, who was breathing heavily.
"I was asleep the first time, and the second time, and every time after that I was too embarrassed to say anything because for once in my life I thought someone might actually care about me!"
"...Why is that a bad thing?"
"Because it's not true."
Glorfindel frowned, stepping out of the way and instead grabbing Erestor's wrist, pulling him down the hallway.
He stalked past Erestor's room a few feet before jerking to a stop in front of a dark wooden door. There was a child's drawing on it, done in color pencils, with six labeled figures: Ada, Nanith, Me, Ro, Glofendel, and Restre. In the corner of the picture was a small E.
Glorfindel glared at Erestor, jabbing a finger at the picture.
"What do you call this?"
"One of Elladans drawings, I presume."
"Uh-huh. And," he pointed to one of the stick-elves, the dark-haired one underneath the name Restre. "Who do you think that is?"
Erestor looked confused at this line of questioning, but humored Glorfindel, hoping to be left alone if he did. "Well, it's Res...Restre. Erestor."
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, nodding deliberately.
"Yes. Elladan and his brother, and his parents, and us. You think he doesn't care about you? You think Elrond doesn't worry when you don't show up to breakfast, Celebrian when you don't show up at all? Do you think I, impatient, stubborn, stupid Glorfindel, would have carried you to your room at midnight if I didn't care about you?"
By now he was ranting, almost yelling at the councilor. He had ripped down the picture and shoved at Erestor, who was now staring at it.
"You have friends Erestor. You have a family. I'm your family and I didn't even like you until three centuries ago."
"I thought you didn't like me at all."
Glorfindel stared at him incredulously, before his face fell and he lunged forward, trapping Erestor in his arms.
"You're such an idiot."
His embrace was tight enough that Erestor could not even move his arms, let alone escape, so he just laid his head on Glorfindels shoulder, the fight drained out of him.
"I have lost everything once before, Erestor. My home, and my people, and my life. Gil-galad, and Ecthelion, and Gælwen and Eärendil. I refuse to lose you to something as despicable as melancholy."
Erestor sighed, bringing a hand up to rest against Glorfindels back. "I am sorry Mellon-nin."
Glorfindel leaned back, giving him a sad smile. "Don't be. Just try. For me. And know that as long as you reside in Arda I will not let you feel this way again."
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The next day Erestor showed up to breakfast without prompting. He sat and he ate—and when Elrohir jumped on his lap and asked for a story he shared a smile with the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower and acquiesced.
"At the beginning of the First Age, not long after the Valar sang before Iluvatar, there lived an elf who was called Ecthelion...