Glorfindel spent the entirety of the night wandering the grounds, lost in thought. What did he feel for the stubborn advisor? 'He is my best friend' he thought. 'He is always there when I truly need him. It is obvious he cares about me. The question is do I want more?' The Elda sighed, 'If he does not desire me, it would mess up our friendship. That I could bear no better than a broken heart.' The whole matter made his head spin. His heart whispered to take the chance; his head said to let the matter rest. Usually his head won out; but then he remembered his last relationship. Another sigh left his lips. Closing his eyes he thought, 'how nice it would be to wake up in a warm embrace; to have some one there to just take it all away when life becomes too heavy.'
The golden warrior certainly could not deny the advisor's beauty. The raven hair fell like a waterfall of the finest silk. Eyes the color of mahogany gave away his innermost feeling. 'When he is off guard,' Glorfindel thought with a small smile. The Noldo was not quite as tall as the warrior and his body was far more slender. This line of thinking made Glorfindel wonder what the advisor really looked like under those robes of state. Frustrated, he wiped his hand over his face. 'Valar help me," he whispered to the darkness.
Arian's rays found the still troubled elf standing before the carved door to his chambers. The night of contemplation left him more confused than before. With a dejected 'humph', he entered his rooms, paced through his sitting room, and entered the bathroom. He splashed water on his face to rejuvenate himself; it did not work. Returning to his bedroom, he stood undecidedly before the wardrobe. Randomly he grabbed a shirt, leggings and robe. The fact that they matched was pure luck. Slowly he dressed. Plopping down on the stool before a beveled mirror, he picked up his brush and tended to his hair with none of his normal vigor. Taking a leather strap from the drawer, he pulled his mass of hair back into a rather disheveled looking braid. Without so much as a look at himself in the long mirror, he exited his chambers.
Not noticing any of the curious looks the normally happy and well-groomed elf received, he trudged to the dinning hall. Crossing the room, he took his usual place at the long head table. Erestor sat at the table chatting with a young elleth.
"Good morn, Glorfindel," Erestor greeted pleasantly.
"Good morn to you," came the flat reply.
Erestor looked at his friend with the critical eye of an advisor. Either Glorfindel slept in the stable or he slept not at all. However, before he could inquire about it, Gildor rushed in to take his seat, smiling in greeting and loading his plate. Erestor just shook his head at his old friend. At times, the ancient lord acted more like an elfling than a member of Finrod's house. The sound of laughter floated across the room. Lindir and Ecthelion arrived looking very much like a couple. Casting a quick look at Glorfindel, Erestor thought he saw sadness and longing reflected in the deep pools of blue. Suddenly the counselor's ire burned white hot.
Joining the others at the head table, the couple greeted their companions cheerfully. Glorfindel gave what he hoped appeared to be a smile, though it came across very melancholy.
"Good day, Lord Counselor." Ecthelion greeted the dark advisor.
Looking at the elf lord with eyes as cold as the Helcaraxë, Erestor all but growled, "I will see you in my office immediately following this meal." The dark advisor then returned to his breakfast.
Ecthelion looked at Glorfindel, but the distracted Lord just shrugged. Lindir just reached for his hand.
The Lord if the Wandering Company addressed the advisor. "It is a radiant day, Erestor, what do you say to a nice long ride? It might alleviate some of the stress you are projecting on others."
"I am sorry, Gildor, but I when I am done with Lord Ecthelion, I have some correspondence to look over. But perhaps after noon meal?"
The gypsy lord beamed. "Wonderful! There is a matter I would like to discuss with you." He enjoyed dragging the stuffy councilor out on adventures.
Glorfindel pushed his plate away, stood without a word, and stalked out of the dining hall. Ecthelion watched his friend leave. If his friend felt anything beyond friendship for Erestor, it might be to late to act on it. Gildor was more than physically appealing; he came from a good house, and lived life to the fullest.
Erestor stood abruptly and without so much as a glance, he addressed Ecthelion curtly. "I have much to do. I expect you in my office shortly." The stern elf left with a swoosh of velvet.
Gildor looked at the confused Lord. "What on Arda did you do to him?" he said with a smirk. "I would rather face Morgoth than him right now."
Ecthelion shook his head and stood. "I do not know how I offended him." With a quick kiss to Lindir's silver head, he excused himself.
"Come by the guild when you are done!" the minstrel called.
"If you survive," Gildor added with a chuckle, laughing harder when the slight elf smacked his arm.
Never having been to the Chief Councilor's office, Ecthelion had to ask a passing scribe directions. He found the office nestled between the Great Library and the Council Chamber. He took a deep centering breath and knocked on the door.
The Lord of the Fountain walked confidently into the room and took a seat in front on a massive oak desk. Erestor stood looking out his window, never turning to acknowledge the other elf. Turning abruptly, the angry elf came to stand behind his desk.
"No reason to draw this out, so I will get right to the point. Lindir and Glorfindel are my dearest friends. Lindir looks
to toGlorfindel as an older brother. I will not allow that relationship to be put in jeopardy. Your return has greatly affected Glorfindel, and by the look of him this morning, I do not think for the better. If your love did not survive through t…"
"Councilor, we are no…"
"I am not finished!" Erestor barked. "If your love for him is no more, so be it. But I will not stand by and watch you attempt to seduce Lindir; in front of your former lover! This brings me to my next point. Lindir is a gentle and trusting elf. If he is just amusement to you; if you tire of him as you did Glorfindel…"
"But I t…" Ecthelion was cut off again when the councilor raised his hand and continued ranting.
"If you continue to cause my friends heart-ache, you WILL find me to be a very dangerous elf!"
The ever patient Lord of the Fountain had had enough. No one challenged his honor! Standing and slamming his hands on the desk he bellowed, "Sit down, NOW!"
Startled by the sudden command, a wide-eyed Erestor dropped into his chair.
"Now listen to me very carefully!" Ecthelion hissed. "Fin and I were not, are not and never will be lovers! My heart belongs to one elf…Lindir. Moreover, if I am correct, he feels the same way. I am not the cause of Glorfindel's depression." Here the warrior took a break and stared down at fear-filled eyes. The ebony haired lord took a breath and sat back down. Leaning forward, he addressed the startled councilor calmly. "Forgive my outburst but you are infuriating. Do you truly believe so little of me?"
The councilor's head spun. No one, not Elrond nor Gil-Galad, ever addressed him with such ferocity. No one ever needed to. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he fought to keep the tears from falling. This time he let his feelings push him to far. Here he was accusing one of the noblest elves ever of less that appropriate behavior. Erestor looked up at a very compassionate face. "No. I am sorry; I had no right to address you thusly. I am just worried about Glorfindel. I have never seen him in such a state. Please, if you know what it troubles him, tell me." Erestor pleaded.
Giving the distraught councilor a soft smile, Ecthelion rose to leave. "That, meldir, is something you must ask him." With that, the mighty lord left the office soundlessly. In his wake, Erestor could do no more than stare, deciding that he would take Ecthelion's advice. He would simply ask Fin what was wrong.
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.