For disclaimer and author's notes please look in Chapter 1
Elves don't get cold
by DreamboatSanny
Part: 3/4
The Lórien people strikingly resembled the Lady and the Lord of the forest. Six large, slim Elves with the silver blond hair that all Silvan Elves seemed to have; they moved with an elegance, that made the Vanya almost jealous. All of them were highly educated, extraordinarily cultivated and nearly engrossed in their beauty.
In other words, Glorfindel summarized his estimation, very boring.
After Erestor had returned again into the house, the seneschal would have at best refused, to give in to Erestor's foul play, but Melpomaen had demanded that he had been thrown out of the circle and therefore had been overcome and he owed the adviser to attend to the guests.
Apart from that Glorfindel also had to realize, that it was only possible to withdraw Elrond's direct commands as long as Erestor stood in for him. But this time the advisor had refused and that's why there was nothing left to do for the seneschal but to explain the Imladrian battle techniques to the Lórien's in every detail. And that was something Erestor couldn't have done anyway.
However the whole morning he had looked forward to the lunch to even up for the disgrace suffered this morning by the fragile Noldo, but the minute he laid his eyes on him, all ideas of revenge disappeared from his head and made room for an entirely different and far less welcome feeling.
During the consultations in the afternoon with Celeborn's new march warden - an Elf much to young for Glorfindel's taste, who showed an astonishing amount of self-confidence - he fell into day dreaming again and again, with dreams that circled around a black eyed Noldo and were highly unfitting. The Chief advisor and he had developed some special kind of friendship, but all further efforts of the Balrog slayer were rigorous blocked by Erestor.
Erestor - brilliant and touchy, appealing and cantankerous and even after all the time still a secret to him.
So Glorfindel was left with the only option but to adore the object of his dreams from a distance and while doing that he figured out that there was something basically wrong with this unusually pale and dark-haired Noldo.
After a surprisingly enjoyable afternoon, because this Elfling by the name of Haldir that Celeborn had entrusted his boundary watch, was refreshing permanent and realistically compared to the other Galadhrim, he had barely two hours in order to get his usual work done before he had to prepare for the evening banquet.
This banquet was no informal supper with Elrond and his family, how it took place almost every night since the children adopted both advisors to be their uncles, but rather a banquet regulated by a firm protocol in honor of the Galadhrim, followed by a probably just as painstakingly planned ball.
While Glorfindel draped his cobalt blue cape around his broad shoulders his only gleam of hope was that Lindir would play tonight. An evening, in which the in Glorfindel's opinion best musician in whole of Arda would play his music, couldn't be that bad after all.
He rearranged the last inquisitive strands under his fine circlet he carried for special occasions, and lifted a satisfied glance at his reflection before he went for the festive decorated hall of the house. On the way he stopped at Erestors quarters in order to pick him up, but the adviser didn't answer his knocking.
Probably he already left, he thought disappointed and left. Just as he was around the corner the door opened and a very concerned Visha run down the corridors to Elrond's and Celebrían's rooms.
"Lord Glorfindel o Gondolin", pronounced the herald before the seneschal went down the stairway, that led of the head entrance into the hall with measured steps.
A little uncomfortable he let his blue eyes look over the quantity of people in here until he discovered Celebrían, who waved for him.
"I thought, you would bring Erestor with you" she greeted him.
"Isn't he here?"
He frowned while he sat down next to the Lady, although Erestors name stood on the seat reservation. "He was strange today. I mean, more strange than usually."
Elrond interrupted his conversation with the ambassador from Minas Tirith and turned around, but in this moment, the herald raised his voice again.
"Lord Erestor o Alqualonde."
Dressed in black velvet and silk and with his delicate circlet - the circlet was the only thing left from his house - the elven sovereign's Chief advisor could have been quite someone to look at, if it wouldn't have been for his too pale lips and his skin that appeared nearly greenish from paleness. His movements missed the usual pride and the Vanya stood up immediately so that Erestor was able to take his place.
Glorfindel prepared to ask Erestor again about its health, but a glare made him hold back. On his other side, Celebrían bent over and whispered into the Noldo's pointed ear.
Erestor nodded silently, but left his gaze starring at the table.
Finally the sovereign bent behind the back of his wife to his advisor and gripped his arm. "Do you not feel well?"
Suddenly remembering their conversation this morning he asked himself whether it had been a mistake to transmit the responsibility for the human envoys aside from his other work to the petite Elf.
Elrond did not know much about Erestor, but he had told him that he was born at the beginning of the second age, directly after the victory of the Elves over Morgoth. This victory was bought for a very high price. It was a time full of privations and many elves born in the following years were in a weaker physical condition. They were smaller and more thin and in Erestors case they definitely worked too much.
The answer of the advisor seemed to confirm his opinion. "I am just tired and cold." He smiled weakly when the half elf arched a brow. "Don't say it, nevertheless I feel cold."
The Lord of Imladris tightened his lips in disapproval. "I will take care of the Gondorians tomorrow and you will remain in bed." He lifted a finger as the pale Elf started to protest. "That is the order of a Healer and if you do not abide by it, I promise you, that I will find somebody to make sure you won't leave your bed."
Unseen by both the corner of Celebrían's mouth twitched and she shared a look with Lindir who nodded allusively. Subsequently both observed with a mixture out of apprehension and amusement how Erestor pushed the meal on his plate listlessly back and forth, before he pushed the plate with a fast movement in front of Glorfindel, who ate the portion of the Noldo in a few moments.
So it's no wonder he is so thin, thought the Lady when it occurred to her, that he seemed to think that five spoons of chocolate Ice cream represented a sufficient meal.
After the last guests had finished their dessert and the last speeches were held, it became time to pass over to the cultural part of the evening, that took place in the Hall of Fire, where Lindir already had made himself comfortable with his musicians.
One look at the white-haired elf with his soft sea green eyes made Glorfindel feel better and even the prospect of a dozen or more She-elves, he did not know and with whom he had to dance nonetheless, was not able to change on that. It was the same each time: the row of the mothers that hoped, the famous lord of Gondolin would select one their daughters to be his wife, would simply not split up.
"No matter what you do, they will never accept it", the musician whispered to him after the seneschal had ended his dance with the twentieth girl and was just as happy with the break as Lindir was. "And he?"
The Vanya's eyes flitted to the fireplace where Erestor sat in the vicinity of the fire in the corner of a large plush sofa sat and observed the hall out of dark inscrutable eyes. "Nothing at all. Either he really does not take it or he doesn't want to notice."
Lindir sighed. "I certainly did not set you free so you can give up on him now. If somebody at all can reach him, then it's you."
"May your words reach the ears of the Valar." Although he spoke to Lindir, he hadn't taken his eyes off the fragile Noldo. "Each time I try to be nice he snatches at me."
The musician put his hand above the warrior's hand. "Even if you banter him he does nothing bad to you. Never underestimate Erestor and his power in Imladris. He has sent already more than one warrior to count Orcs in Mordor and that's for substantially less than what you did to snub him."
"Should that comfort me?", the Balrog slayer grumbled.
"You mean much more to Erestor than he likes to admit. He's only afraid that you might be able to tear down the walls he erected around himself, so that no one recognizes, what hides behind the calculating and bitchy advisor."
Glorfindel frowned his mood darkening. "Like is not exactly the word, that comes to my mind if I look at him."
"I know." The gentle, white-haired Elf laughed softly and melodic. "And if he would give you a try he would find out, that you are the partner that he seeks."
The Balrog slayer was about to answer with a mocking comment, but then it occurred to him that Lindir had never joked with such subjects. "How do you know that?"
"Erestor and I were lovers for a short time."
The Vanya was shocked for some moments by this news. He had always thought that Erestor would seek his male lovers among the soldiers. "What happened?", he then asked the only question that perhaps was still relevant.
"Well, we didn't fit", Lindir answered inexactly and looked over Glorfindels shoulder to Celebrían. "Come on, Fin. I play something for you. Perhaps he will dance with you."
"If you ask me, Erestor doesn't look as if he would want to dance with anybody", Rivendells First warrior disagreed and made Lindir laugh again.
"There are things, which even Erestor cannot resist", he promised. "Aside of chocolate. Prepare yourself for some surprises."
As soon as Lindir began to play again, it became quiet in the hall. Elves as well as humans interrupted their conversations, because none of them had ever listened to this kind of music before. It did not sound unaccommodating, only … different. The rhythm was confusing because it run contrary to the feeling of the Noldor and their guests. Although the same instruments as usual were used, its ratio was strange enough to make the sound of the song strange without being unpleasant.
The air in the Hall of fire seemed to warm up noticeably and although no one understood the words formed by Lindirs beautiful voice, they formed similar associations in all the ball guests imaginations. An imagination of flickering flames in the fireplace and the semi-darkness in front of it. The guests including the Lady and the Lord of the valley watched amazed at the musicians. Only Erestor smiled knowing and clearly a bit lascivious at Lindir and waved a No with an index finger. The musician answered with a requesting look and pouted but the advisor remained seated. Only when the white haired elf loosely didn't let up, the Noldo raised and went to him.
Probably without noticing and wanting it, his movements adapted involuntarily the music and Glorfindel had never before seen an Elf, moving so soft. Erestor whispered something in Lindir's ear and wanted to return subsequently to his place, but the Vanya held him close.
"You seem to know more than all of us", he whispered and became suddenly aware how close the advisor stood. Although they didn't touch one another, he could feel physically the heat that radiated from the smaller body, something that should not happen to an Elf.
"I have to live up to your expectations, have I?", joked the Noldo a bit strained.
"Do you let me participate at your wisdom?"
"To what extent?"
"I have for example a feeling, that you and perhaps Lindir are the only elves here who understand the lyrics of this song."
Erestor nodded. "And it will be the best if it stays that way. Half of the people here would blush of shame if they understood."
Ah. 'Prepare for some surprises', Glorfindel remembered Lindir's words again. "Does Lindir know what he sings?"
The Noldo smiled but a new ball visitor saved him from having to answer this.
Through the wide french doors came a bare footed Elven child with black hair and an orange night robe, dragging a heavy well used doll by one leg behind her.
"Ada, there is a monster under my bed", Arwen Undómiel announced.
Elrond turned away from the Lórien ambassador with a smile begging for forgiveness on his face and looked at his daughter. "Arwen, little one, there are no monsters here. Would you be so kind and go quickly back to the bed, yes?"
"But there is a monster under my bed." The girl pulled vigorously at her father's robes until he sighed softly.
Where is her nurse when I need her? "Elladan, Elrohir?"
"I don't think so", Elrohir stated with a leer at his little sister's visibly darkening face.
Celebrían hurried along to soothe her daughter, but Arwen clung to Elrond's robes with a trembling lower lip.
"Just a moment. It will start in a second", Haldir said from a safe distance and as if on his command the girl started to whimper.
"I'm afraid, Ada. You must defeat the monster."
The Half elf bit his lower lip. He was not able to leave the ball, no matter how much he wanted to help the child. He took Arwen on his arm and automatically touched her feet to feel if they were warm. Then the rescuing idea occurred to him. "Glorfindel will take you to bed. He has experience with monsters."
"Much experience with large monsters", the Balrog slayer supported his Lord although he guessed that Arwen would not be satisfied with that. Tears as big as Olifants began to roll over the elfling's cheeks and nearly broke both warriors' hearts.
The two sovereigns who had fought in countless battles were helpless confronted with the tears of the child until Erestor stepped between them and freed Elrond softly but quite resolutely from his clutching daughter
"Come, my little star, we'll go and catch monsters", he declared and at least for the guests totally incomprehensible Arwen gave in to his will. She put her doll on one shoulder of the delicate advisor, leaned her head at the other and drowsily stuck a thumb into her mouth.
tbc
MeriagrinBaggwise: Lol, I thought at least with a good idea Erestor is able to defeat the mighty Glorfindel and he right, isn't he? Orcs don't greet, they just attack. But you are right, Glorfindel does care, even more than he thinks is good for him.