Title: A Gentleman Caller

Author: TICS

Rating: PG13

Summery: Glorfindel pays someone an unexpected visit.

Disclaimer: I don't own themI just play with them for a while, and always make sure to put them back exactly where I found them.

Genre: Humor. AUplease do not expect anything even remotely resembling canon here. Feedback greatly appreciated:D

Chapter 17

Apologies

Having found her way back to her chambers after conking Haldir over the head at the party, the Author snuggled down in her soft sleigh bed, quickly falling asleep.

Just before dawn, a feeling of heaviness awoke her from a deep slumber. Cracking open her eyes, they met two silvery-gray, very, very angry eyes, staring hard at her.

"Haldir?" She asked, trying to focus. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her skin.

He held up her tape recorder, pressed the play button and put it on the nightstand before facing her again.

Haldir: "I want this recorded for evidence. Someone hit me over the head last night."

Author: "Really? Geewho would do a thing like that?"

Haldir: "Yes, really. I happen to have a good idea of who it was, too."

Author: "You do? BoyI guess they're in trouble, huh?"

Haldir: "You could say that."

Author: Guess you should be off, tracking them down, then"

Haldir: I have it on very good authority that it was you."

Author: "Who, me?"

Haldir: "No, the other you. Yes, you!"

Author: "Not meI would never"

The tapes rolls on a bit as Haldir leans his head forward a fraction of an inch, and plants a toe-curling kiss on the Author's lips

Author: "Knock that off, Haldir."

Haldir: "No." Kiss. "Not." Kiss. "Until." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Confess." Kiss.

Author: "Stop that. I didn't" Kiss.

Haldir: Kiss. "I." Kiss. "Know." Kiss. "It." Kiss. "Was." Kiss. "You." Kiss.

Author: "You could be mistaken" Kiss.

Haldir: Kiss. "Wrong." Kiss. "Answer." Kiss.

Author: "OkayI admit it. I hit you over the head with the spittoon."

Haldir: Kiss. "Better." Kiss.

Author: "But only because you tried to shoot an arrow into my butt." Kiss.

Haldir: Kiss. "Sorry." Kiss.

Author: "You can stop nowI confessed." Kiss.

Haldir: Kiss. "No, don't think so." Kiss.

Author: "Haldir" Kiss, kiss, kiss

the tape rolls on for quite a while, the only sounds heard being grunts, groans, moans, the creaking of a mattress, and one very startled, "Oh my godthat is NOT going to fit!"

Round about noon, the Author carefully eased herself out from under Haldir's arm, and crawled out of bed. Finding walking to be a bit difficult that morning, she wiped a hand over her face, not quite sure which idea was more difficult to come to grips with - what she'd done that night with Haldir, or the fact that she'd taken so long to cave in to begin with.

She quickly washed and dressed, tiptoeing past the bed where Haldir lay, his silver mane sprayed across the pillows, one tendril lying across his face to be floated up in the air each time he exhaled, snoring quite loudly. Evidently, deviated septums were a common ailment among Elves.

"And he complained that Gimli breathed too loudly" she thought to herself, stifling a chuckle.

Quietly she slipped out of the room, softly closing the door behind her, heading toward the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat.

Entering the kitchen, she spotted Glorfindel at one of the tables, a look of pain on his face, and an icepack on his head. He cracked open one eye at her approach, then closed it again, sighing deeply.

"You," he said, shifting the icepack slightly over a rather large bump on his forehead.

"Don't act as if this were my fault, GlorfindelI told you not to give Erestor a garbage can for his Begetting Day present!"

"I knowI knowI should have listened," he muttered, wincing, and shifting the icepack again.

"The question is, what are you going to do about it?" the Author asked, helping herself to piece of weybread and jam.

"Do? What can I do now? The deed has been done, and Erestor is not speaking to me. He locked me out our chambersI had to spend the night bunked in with Legolasand he snores."

"Him, too?" the author said under her breath. Aloud, she replied, "Glorfindeljust go and buy him something niceapologize and really mean itI'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Easy for you to sayhave you ever had to apologize to an angry Elf? It isn't the easiest thing in the world, I'll have you know"

Thinking about her night spent apologizing to Haldir, and how difficult walking was this morning, the author nodded her head in sympathy with the Slayer. "I can only imagine, Glorfindel. Stillyou'll just need to grin and bear it. If Erestor means as much to you as you say he does, then you'll live through it."

"I'm immortalI live through everything - except for that Balrog thing, but even that's not in the same category as facing Erestor when he's this angry." He sighed, and rose from the table. "I suppose I should listen to you this timealthough Eru knows how I'm going to get Erestor to listen to me."

"You might want to ask Haldirhe's got a great technique," the Author advised, grinning at the look of confusion on the Balrog-slayer's face, as he blinked at her, and left the kitchen.

The halls were especially quiet that afternoon as the author wandered aimlessly, wondering what to do with herself. The Elves were conspicuously absent, probably tending hangovers in the privacy of their chambers. She didn't want to go back to her chambers since Haldir was probably still sawing wood on her mattress, and so, found herself walking around literally in circles through the hallways.

As she passed a darkened doorway, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the unlit room, pushing her back up against the wall.

"Legolas?" the Author asked, squinting to make out his features.

"How could you?" he growled, his lovely brow creased in a ferocious frown.

"How could I what? What is it with you people and the inability to use complete sentences?"

"You slept with Haldir!"

"How did you find out about that? When I left him, he looked as though he might not wake up until next Thursday!"

"So you admit it!"

"What's to admit? It's no business of yours anyway!" the Author countered.

"No business of mine? Of course, it's my business! Do you have a "Haldir" muse? No, you don't."

"What are you talking about? What does my muse have to do with this?"

"You have a "Legolas" muse. One that you insist on dressing in a tutu and having prance about!"

"And your point - you do have a point, don't you?"

"My point is that if you were to sleep with anyone, then it should be me!" he spat, his frown intensifying.

"Good grief, Legolasget a hold of yourself - you're spitting all over me. How, exactly did you come to that brilliant deduction?"

Looking at the Author as if she were dimwitted, he replied, "It should have been me because then you would be able to tell your readers that I - meaning your muse - am not gay!"

"I never said you, ermy musewas gay, Legolas" the Author replied.

"You imply it all the time! There's only one thing left to doyou'll have to sleep with me twice."

"Twice? Once isn't even going to happen, never mind twice!"

"Oh, yes it is. You'll sleep with me twice - once to make up for the once you slept with Haldir, and once so that I'm ahead in the game."

"This is not a game, there is no winner or loser, and I am NOT sleeping with you!"

"Just so that you are aware I'm a much better shot than Haldir. I won't miss," Legolas growled.

"Are you threatening me?"

"That is not a threatthat is a promise!" He hissed, releasing her and stalking away.

Watching him retreat from the room, the Author thought, "So my choices are a.) sleeping with the golden Prince of Mirkwood, or b.) getting an arrow through my assdecisions, decisions