Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long with updates with all my fics. omg, university life is so hectic. I'll try to update as often as I can, but I can't really say when they next update will be. Sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
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Chapter 2.00000000000
Following his indirect encounter with Glorfindel from the House of the Golden Flower, Erestor studiously attempted to discover more about the notorious warrior. His efforts, efficient as they often were, failed him this time. He learned naught more than he already knew.
Many an elf said that he was very kind and that he possessed a strong soul. Others called attention to his physical abilities, such as being able to fell a tree with a single stroke of his sword. Upon closer inspection, it was also discovered that Glorfindel was a wise and intellectual individual . . . but Erestor had already known of all that. With the many experiences and memories that the warrior held in his heart, the advisor had merely assumed such from him.
Despite all the apparent facts that the elf had discovered, however, Glorfindel still remained a mystery. The former simply could not understand him. After all, he was principally famed for his tactics and technique in battle, yet just the other night, had Erestor not seen him strain himself over his lacking ability to whistle?
Pinching the uppermost part of his nose, the advisor contemplated his thoughts . . . only to be interrupted not a moment later by a knock on his door.
'Come in,' he replied nonchalantly, though still professionally.
'Master Erestor,' Melpomaen said in greeting, bowing respectively.
'Melpomaen,' Erestor returned. 'What brings you to my study?'
'I have completed the charts that you asked for,' the younger elf said, carefully placing a couple of scrolls on top of his master's desk.
'Good,' Erestor said to his charge. 'Take a short break for now. You may return to your duties later.'
'Thank you,' Melpomaen said, bowing for a second time before he left the room.
And the Chief Advisor was left alone with his thoughts once more.
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Chapter 2.10000000000
A couple of hours later, while he was reading through and signing his approval on some important documents, the elf was interrupted once more. Believing it to be another one of the junior advisors, Erestor sighed softly.
'Yes? What is it?' he called impatiently. He still had more work to be done and had little time for interruptions.
'Master Erestor?' a voice inquired softly, the speaker having yet to enter the study.
Erestor's ears perked up slightly in uncertainty. The owner of the voice had sounded vaguely familiar to him, and yet he was unable to place a face to it.
'Is this a bad time?' the other asked.
The advisor was strongly tempted to answer "no", for his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. However, he put aside his own emotions in favour of a professional output.
'Aye,' he replied.
'Right,' said the other elf. 'I am sorry for disturbing you.'
'If it is necessary, you may speak with one of my inferiors,' Erestor said, not unkindly, before getting back to work.
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Chapter 2.20000000000
It was not until very late that evening that Erestor returned to his chambers once more. After having the servants draw a bath for him, which was a part of his nightly routine, he finally allowed himself to relax.
'It has been such a tolling day,' he muttered to himself. 'As per usual.'
The elf lathered some shampoo into his hair and worked out the knots with his fingers.
'Still,' he said, 'I should not be complaining. I am much more fortunate than others.'
After having washed the lathers from his head, the advisor leaned his head back against the edge of the tub. Without even realizing it, he turned slightly so as to be able to view the world outside of his bathroom window.
But there was no one there to see.
'Ah, what did I anticipate?' he asked himself. 'Lord Glorfindel was there last night, but that is no reason to expect him to return.' Erestor rubbed at his limbs, trying to wash away the tiredness that he felt building within them.
Some time passed before the elf finally pulled himself out of the tub and swathed himself in a bathrobe. Then he returned to his rooms and lay down on his bed.
'I do not know why I am thinking of him,' he admitted to the ceiling of his four-poster bed. 'Perhaps because he appears too good to be true.' Erestor sighed and turned onto his side, tucking an arm beneath his head to get more comfortable. 'Still, it matters not. I shall meet him tomorrow night.'
Then, although he was still well aware of his surroundings, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep. His breathing had slowed and his body had relaxed entirely; his eyes had taken on the glazed expression of elven sleep.
It may have just been his imagination, but he thought that he heard the weak attempts of an elf trying to whistle outside . . .
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Chapter 2.30000000000
And just like that, the next day soon passed and evening fell upon the Last Homely House.
And just like that, dinnertime arrived.
The head advisor was more than a little nervous as he readied himself for the evening meal. He self-consciously tied his hair back, released it, braided it, released it, twisted it, released it . . . He wanted to make a good impression on Lord Glorfindel, but how was he to do so when he could not even get his hair to sit right!
'Argh,' he sighed in defeat, throwing down a couple strips of ribbon, his latest attempts to "decorate" his hair. 'This is impossible!' After a moment of contemplation, he ran his comb through his thick, dark locks, releasing the knots from it. 'This will have to do,' he muttered to himself, having decided to leave his hair as it was. 'At least the robes were not a problem.'
Standing up, the elf wandered over to his full-length mirror, where he was able to survey his appearance more easily. His black robes were simple with only a few decorative trimmings along the edges. It was a set of robes that he often wore while in his office, so he knew them to be both comfortable and formal enough for a dinner with the notorious warrior, although seeping a more professional than inviting air.
Knock. Knock.
'Enter,' Erestor called, turning towards the door.
A servant entered hesitantly, bowing respectively to his superior.
'Master Erestor, Lord Elrond and his family await you,' the she-elf said.
'And Lord Glorfindel?' he asked before he could stop himself.
'Has not yet arrived,' she said, smiling apologetically on his behalf.
Erestor sighed.
'Thank you,' the advisor said. 'Will you please tell them that I shall arrive shortly?'
'Aye, sir.' And she left.
The remaining elf looked at himself in the mirror one more time before finally venturing out of his room.
All the while, he was thinking, "Here we go . . ."
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'Uncle Erestor!' the twins exclaimed, jumping out of their seats to greet him.
'Good evening, younglings,' the elder elf said with a smile. 'My, you are certainly . . . active today.' He glanced at their parents for an explanation.
'They are excited, I suppose,' Celebrian said.
'Why, may I ask?' Erestor asked Elrohir.
'Because this it he first time that we get to eat dinner with Mama and Papa and Uncle Erestor and Uncle Glorfindel!' he exclaimed.
'This is going to be fun!' Elladan added.
Erestor shook his head amusedly.
'I am afraid that I do not think as you do, elflings,' he said honestly. 'Dinner is not supposed to be a playful affair.'
'Erestor is correct, to an extent,' Elrond said. 'I, however, know that it is quite useless to ask you not to act as you usually do—that is to say, in your childlish manner—but I do ask that you at least try to behave. You may entertain us with your antics and such, but do not act too . . . rowdily.'
'Yes, Father,' the said in unison.
'Now, now, dear, that was rather harsh,' Celebrian said.
'Perhaps, but I am only asking this of them for one night,' Elrond said.
'Until the next one,' Elladan muttered.
Elrond, with his keen sense of hearing, heard his son, but did not comment on it.
An awkward silence prevailed . . . until Glorfindel arrived.
'Uncle Glorfindel!' the twins said. Easily forgetting what their father had told them, they ran up to greet the warrior.
Elrond sighed.
'Greetings, young ones,' Glorfindel said, returning their embrace before turning his attention to the elder elves, who had stood up to greet him. 'Good evening, Elrond, Celebrian.'
To Erestor, the fact that Glorfindel referred to the lord and lady by their first names revealed that he was quite familiar with them and felt comfortable in their presence. That was certainly a good thing.
'Hello,' the blond said, suddenly addressing the advisor. 'I do not believe that I have met you.'
'Forgive our manners,' Celebrian said, pressing a hand to her heart in apology. 'We have yet to introduce you. Lord Glorfindel, this is Master Erestor.'
Erestor stood up as well and glanced into Glorfindel's eyes and saw something spark within the sapphire orbs.
'Charmed,' the warrior said with a small smile, looking the other elf up and down.
"There he is," Erestor thought, his heart beating nervously in his chest. "There he is, staring down at me. After all, what am I—an advisor—in comparison to him—an esteemed warrior? . . . He is still staring at me with those deep, beautiful eyes. I can see the cold contempt of his judgment; he thinks that I am such a lowly elf . . . Will I ever be good enough for you, Glorfindel?'
Ding.
'Ah, it appears that you have arrived just in time, Glorfindel,' Elrond said, sitting down with a flourish. 'Dinner is served.'
Glorfindel broke their eye contact and took a seat across the table from Erestor; he was careful not to catch the other's eye once more.
"He has passed judgment," the brunet thought darkly, sitting down in his high-backed chair. "I am not acceptable."
As per usual, the servants entered to carry out their duties, the only mark of their passing being the food that had been left on the table.
"I do not know what I expected," Erestor admitted to himself as he served himself some rice, "but from all that I have heard about Lord Glorfindel, I had at least expected to be given a fair amount of time to prove myself. After all, it is not possible for him to come to know me within a few moments . . . and yet it appears as if he had already decided.'
'Er . . . Are you quite hungry tonight, Uncle Erestor?' Elrohir asked hesitantly.
'Pardon?'
The elfling glanced pointedly at Erestor's plate, which was loaded with rice. The latter elf had been so distracted with his thoughts that he had not noticed.
'Oh, dear,' he muttered embarrassedly. 'I suppose that I have allowed my mind to wander too far from my body.'
The other elves chuckled.
'What were you thinking about, Erestor?' Celebrian questioned.
'Not work, I hope,' Elrond said with only the slightest hint of a warning in his tone.
'Nay,' Erestor said, but he did not expand upon his answer.
The others allowed it to pass, for which he was very grateful.
'So, Master Erestor,' Glorfindel began, keeping his eyes locked on the bread basket as he retrieved said item, 'why is it that I have yet to see you? I have heard of you, of course, but in all the time that I had been here, I do not believe that I have encountered you in any manner, save hearing your voice on the other side of a door.'
Erestor almost choked.
"That was Glorfindel yesterday!"
'That is because Erestor has taken to locking himself in his study,' Elrond answered for the advisor.
'That is not true, Elrond,' Erestor defended himself.
'He is right, father,' Elladan said.
'Aye, because at other times, he locks himself in his bedchambers instead!' Elrohir piped up.
The group laughed again, yet Erestor maintained his dignity.
'On occasion, I attend the festivities at the Hall of Fire or take walks in the gardens.'
'But you never remain in the Hall for very long and your walks are taken long after everyone else had gone to bed,' Elrond pointed out.
'Now, now, dear, this is not the occasion to chastise Erestor,' Celebrian said kindly.
'I am not chastising him, but perhaps you are right. Let us continue on with our meal.'
Throughout it all, Glorfindel had remained silent and only laughed on the cues that the other elves provided.
Erestor chanced a look upon the blond elf, not knowing what to think of him. By the initial impression he had gotten from him (that is to say, when he heard him trying to whistle outside), he believed that this was a very light-hearted elf. Others agreed, so what did that mean? Was everyone wrong and this was the true Glorfindel? Or were they correct in their interpretation of his personality and something was bothering the warrior this evening? Or maybe he—Erestor—was seeing too much into this and analyzing things that did not exist in the first place.
Or maybe it was because of him that Glorfindel was acting in this manner.
The theories were numerous . . . The advisor pressed a hand to his forehead, as if to stem the endless flow.
Needless to say, everyone noticed.
'Erestor? Is aught the matter?' Celebrian asked.
'Uncle Erestor?' the twins cooed affectionately.
Erestor forced himself to smile.
'I apologize for worrying you,' he said. 'I simply became lightheaded for a moment there.'
'Well, you have been working too hard as of late,' Elrond said, as if suddenly remembering. 'Mayhap we should call it an early night; you should get some rest.'
'Nay, I am fine,' Erestor insisted. 'There is no need to put an end to everyone's evening on my account.'
'Are you quite certain that you are all right?' the lord asked anxiously.
'I am fine,' the head advisor insisted. 'Really, Elrond, I should think that I could identify my situation better than anyone else can,' he jested.
No one laughed.
'I am fine,' he said once more. 'I was just . . . thinking . . . again.'
'Hmm,' Elrond sighed, unconvinced.
Feeling uncomfortable, Erestor had to try all the harder to convince his friends that he was all right.
'Please, everyone, you have no grounds on which to fret. Do not spoil your evening because of your unnecessary worries for me.'
This time, it was Celebrian's turn to sigh.
'If you insist, my friend, but please do yourself a favour and stop thinking!' she said firmly. 'Just . . . be in the moment . . . feel it . . .'
Oh, he felt it all right. The cool demeanor that the golden warrior before him personified . . . and the harsh rejection because of his status. He did not feel worthy to bask in the presence of the notorious Lord Glorfindel.
With more than a little effort, the advisor forced his feelings down and continued to eat.
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Chapter 2.9
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There he is, staring down at me. After all, what am I—an advisor—in comparison to him—an esteemed warrior? . . . He is still staring at me with those deep, beautiful eyes. I can see the cold contempt of his judgment; he thinks that I am such a lowly elf . . . Will I ever be good enough for you, Glorfindel?
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