Ecthelion woke feeling sticky. "Uhhh" he groaned. Sitting up he wiped his stomach with a corner of the sheet. Heading to the bathroom, he quickly washed up, dressed and gathered his weapons. No sooner did he reach for his cloak
did a knock come.
"Enter!" he called.
"Good morning mellon nin. Sleep well?" Wearing an obnoxious smirk, Glorfindel nosed around the quarters.
"Fin, what are you looking for?"
With eyes full of mischief the golden lord leaned against the wall. "Oh, nothing much
." He began. "Just thought I might find a new instrument in your position. One, say, about 5'9" with blue eyes…"
"Uhgg! He's not here." Ecthelion blushed at his friend's creatively crass comment.
"Left early did he?"
"Fin, he did not come home with me, alright! You are incorrigible!"
An exasperated and embarrassed Lord of the Fountain replied.
Glorfindel sighed, "Too bad."
Rolling his eyes and opening the door, the dark elf pointed, "Out. There is a patrol waiting for us."
"You are no fun," mumbled Glorfindel. Ecthelionjust sighed and let the matter be. He had to admit though, the thought of Lindir staying the night was more than appealing. 'Stop it! You have a patrol to focus on,' he scolded himself.
Lindir entered the dining room and took his usual seat next to Erestor. The dark eyed elf did not look rested. "Did you not sleep well my lord?" He asked.
Erestor looked up with obvious annoyance in his eyes. "Good morning to you too Lindir." He returned to poking the food on his plate. Moments later he excused himself. Lindir sighed. With Elrond and the family away and Glorfindel and Ecthelion, he smiled at the name, on patrol and Erestor gone now, there was nothing better to do than grab a bite and leave the abandoned table.
Erestor was in a foul mood, though he had no real reason or right to be. He slept poorly the night before. His dreams tormented him. They started out pleasant, like strolling the gardens with Glorfindel. Then HE would show up. Erestor sighed. 'Face reality. Even if you expressed your feelings, once Ecthelion returned it would all have been for naught.' He sighed at the thought. Well, there was no use mopping; he had work to do.
He was hunched over a huge tome when a gentle knock disturbed him "Come in Lindir." He smiled at the minstrel.
"Forgive the disturbance, but I thought you might like to know that the pegs are fixed and the crack sealed. It is as good as new." Lindir reverently handed a bundle to the advisor.
Erestor hugged the package to his chest and gave the young elf a genuine smile. "Thank you, pen neth. I was afraid it was too far gone to be repaired." He carefully set it aside.
Lindir gave him a questioning look. "Are you not going to look it over? Make sure it is alright?"
"Forgive me, but I must find something in here, complete a letter, and send out the rider before noon." Coming to stand directly in front of the elf, he smiled gently and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Furthermore, I trust you and your work. If you say it is repaired then I know it is."
Lindir could not help but beam with pride. Erestor paid him a great compliment. "Thank you my lord." With a slight bow the bard left the study, closing the door quietly behind him.
Truth be told, Erestor was dying to look, but work first…leisure second. He also knew he would need to start the arrangements for the 'welcome celebration'. Elrond would return in two weeks time. Thinking of Ecthelion crushed his spirits faster than a snowball melts in Mordor. Pushing personal feelings aside, he buried himself in work.
Erestor took both the noon and evening meal in his office. He wanted to get everything wrapped up as soon as possible. With a happy sigh he examined a now empty desk. Grabbing the package Lindir delivered earlier, he stealthily slipped out his balcony doors before anyone could bring him anything else to do. Walking down a small path that lead to a relatively secluded glade near a small waterfall, he sat down on a stump and unwrapped his precious bundle.
He ran his hand lovingly over the curved surface. Lindir had out
"I had no idea you could play so well." Erestor
tuned to see his bane strolling up. "Actually," the golden elf crinkled his brow and added, "I did not know you could play at all."
Erestor glared at the intruder. "There are a great many things you do not know about me Seneschal." He carefully set the harp on the ground. "Is there something you need?" He asked briskly.
"Well, actually, yes. I was wondering when you plan to make a move."
The advisor paled immediately.
"Wha…what do you mean?" He hoped he did not sound or look as flustered as he felt.
Glorfindel continued, very unaware of the dark elf's distress. "I made my move yesterday. I took your King's Bishop. I have stopped in every evening but you are never there." Glorfindel said in what actually sounded like disappointment.
"Oh. I did not expect you to continue the game." Glorfindel looked perplexed. 'Valar he is adorable like that.' Erestor thought to himself. 'He looks like an elfling trying to figure something out.'
Getting no further comment, Glorfindel innocently asked the obvious, "Why?"
'Are you really so clueless?' Erestor thought. 'Because I think I love you and your old love just walked back into your life and it pains me?' Again he sighed. "Ecthelion is back. I assumed you would be spending you evenings with him." Erestor hoped the jealousy was well hidden. "And speaking of the Fountain Lord, should you not be with him now? The hour grows late."
Glorfindel shrugged, "It seems my dear advisor, that Ecthelion prefers the company of a certain head minstrel who shall remain nameless." Erestor seethed at that. How could Ecthelion do that to Glorfindel…or Lindir for that matter? 'Well I will take care of that!' he thought. In his darkening mood, Erestor completely missed the sparkle in Glorfindel's eye. Folding the cloth around his harp, he abruptly stood. "If you will excuse me, I have work to do." With that, he was gone.
Glorfindel looked after him wondering what had just happened.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.