GLORFINDEL LION-HEART
Genre: slash, humour, sap.
Rating: yellow/mild orange
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel (not the Balrog-slayer, though), Erestor/Legolas
Warnings: AU, and how! A wee bit of angst.
Beta: Miss Enismirdal, the mûmak multiplicator
Feedback: But most certainly yes!
Beautiful artwork by Nellas of Doriath!
Summary: Glorfindel wishes he had a lion-heart. And Erestor.
Author's notes: They only thing this story has in common with my "usual" AU are the customs of the Woodland Elves. Originally, this was supposed to be a stand-alone. Alas, it turned out to be a new series. Thanks for convincing me to write this series, it was a lot of fun!
CHAPTER 3
Glorfindel hurried to stick the "back soon" sign to the door of his shop, turned the key and headed for the courtyard. The delegation from Mirkwood was expected any moment and, like everybody else in Imladris, he was most curious to see those Elves who were more shrouded in legends than any other. He could not remember ever having seen a Mirkwood Elf in Imladris, with exception of Erestor, of course. The Lady Celebrían had instructed the Elves of Imladris not to behave in any manner that could be insulting to the guests from Mirkwood.
"Do not stand and stare at them as if they were dogs with two heads," she had said. Everybody had nodded, but as Elves were curious by nature, most of them suddenly remembered that they had some very urgent business to attend to near the courtyard that day, and Glorfindel was no exception.
It had to be pointed out, though, that his main interest was not any of the mythical Mirkwood Elves arriving, but the one Mirkwood Elf who would probably be there to welcome them. During the last century, Glorfindel had become a master in the art of watching Erestor without being seen. He did not want the captain to become suspicious or, even worse, make him feel stalked. All Glorfindel wanted was to look at Erestor and get lost in daydreams. Daydreams featuring Erestor, of course.
While Glorfindel walked down streets and alleys, his thoughts wandered once again back to the faithful day of his coming-of-age ceremony. How long ago had that been – a hundred years? More? Too long in any case to still spend time musing over it. One kiss, good grief! One kiss from an Elf who hardly noticed Glorfindel's existence, and yet his heart beat faster and he had butterflies in his stomach every time he saw Erestor. Nothing had changed about that. If anything, it had become worse over the years.
"How come I am not surprised to see you here as well?" a cheerful voice could be heard behind him, and Glorfindel stopped in his tracks to turn around.
"Melpomaen!" he called, honestly pleased to see his old friend. "How fare you? I have not seen you for quite a while!"
"Well, our youngest is teething at the moment, and so my wife and I take turns in soothing him at night. It all comes with the job of being a father. You remember my oldest, I suppose?"
Glorfindel looked at the child who hid shyly behind her father's legs and fiddled with the buttons of her dress.
"Of course I do, how could I forget a lady as lovely as that?" Glorfindel said, and the girl answered this compliment with a giggle and a blush. Melpomaen rolled his eyes.
"Do not encourage her vanity, she is already spending more time in front of the mirror than my wife! Will you accompany us? I am curious to hear how you have fared since we last met."
The two friends walked side by side, informing each other about the happenings of the last months. They were only interrupted by the questions of Melpomaen's daughter, and she had many of them. Every time he looked into her open, fresh face, Glorfindel felt a little stab in his heart. He could have had a family of his own years ago, but somehow… well, somehow nobody ever managed to make his heart flutter the same way Erestor did. If only there had been a draught to cure his illness! The only hope left for Glorfindel was that time would eventually heal him of this madness.
They had arrived at the entrance of the courtyard, and a good number of Elves were already gathered, all of them so inconspicuously gathered that even a half-blind dwarf would have noticed immediately that they were here for a purpose.
Melpomaen and Glorfindel stood for a good while, chatting and joking with the little girl, when all of a sudden a horn could be heard. It was a sound unknown in Imladris, but Glorfindel still knew that this must be the announcement of the Mirkwood delegation's arrival.
And what an arrival it was – for years after, Elves would still talk about it. Most of them had never seen an Elf from Mirkwood before, with exception of Erestor, whom they considered as "one of their own". Many had expected a display of uncivilized brutes, or aggressive, half-wild beings. Did they not live in caves? Even their king?
Alas, those who had hoped for havoc were disappointed. The delegation consisted of about fifty Elves. They rode their horses without saddles, only using a saddle cloth. Unlike the Imladris Elves, who favoured brightly coloured garments, the Mirkwood Elves wore the colours of the forest and the earth – browns and greens. With their dark hair and eyes, they almost looked like parts of the forest as well. There was a special magic about them, something wild, yes, but also enchanting.
"Forest sprites," Glorfindel said, looking at the riders in awe.
"Indeed. Most of the archers seemed to be still quite young, do you not agree? They look at us as curiously as we are looking at them. Now, where is this Legolas the mythical creature…?"
Both Melpomaen and Glorfindel stood on tip-toes to catch a sight of Thranduil's son who, oddly enough, did not lead the delegation, but rode a little behind the group.
"That is Legolas? The son of Thranduil the Terrible? Say - is he adopted?" Melpomaen asked, and Glorfindel had to stifle a grin. Even among the Eldar, who all were fair of face, Legolas was an exception. Unlike the rest of the group, his hair was golden, and though he was as much a warrior as the other Elves, he looked around with the wide-eyed wonder of a child.
"He must take after his mother's side then, I guess," Glorfindel said, "though Thranduil's hair is golden as well, so I heard."
"And his mood is usually as dark as Erestor's hair. And now look, as we are already talking about him…" Melpomaen pointed in the direction of the courtyard, where Erestor had turned up with his guards to greet the visitors from Mirkwood. He looked very stern, regal and, so Glorfindel thought, a little uncomfortable. How odd – should he not be happy to meet his kin again?
Erestor, who had planned this meeting to be as formal as possible, was just about to start his little speech of welcome. Legolas dismounted his horse in the same elegantly fluid fashion Glorfindel admired on Erestor and stormed past his Elves and towards the captain, who was speechless for a moment when he saw his old friend.
"Erestor! You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to seeing you again!" Legolas yelled, and before Erestor could say another word, he found himself tackled and thrown to the ground. When he recovered from his shock, he looked directly into Legolas' eyes.
"You have not changed at all," he finally managed to gasp.
"I hope so! You, however… say, where did you catch that thing here?" Legolas asked, still lying atop Erestor, and ran his finger along the scar disfiguring the left half of the captain's face. "Orc? Warg? Wild man?"
"No," Erestor said, shaking his head. "Jealous husband."
Legolas laughed, but made no attempt to move. Erestor was aware that half of Imladris was staring at them.
"Legolas, would you do me the favour and let me stand up? You have gained a couple of pounds over the years…"
"Oh. Certainly. Yes, my mother's cookery is still excellent! She sends her regards, by the way, and she hopes you will come to see her one fine day."
"A nice idea, and I thank her for her good intentions, but I really do not think your ada would be overly delighted if I set foot into Mirkwood again."
"I love my father with all my heart, as you certainly know," Legolas said, blowing a strand of blond hair out of his face. "But as far as you are concerned, I fully agree with her: he is an old dullard. And you know, I have really missed you."
With that, Legolas cut off any further comments from Erestor's side off by kissing him soundly, which caused the crowd to gasp in chorus. Glorfindel, who had watched the scene with increasing alarm, put his hand over his mouth to stifle a groan. Knowing of Erestor's amorous escapades was one thing, but actually seeing him with another Elf was a completely different kettle of fish. Had somebody pierced his heart with a sword, it could not have hurt him more.
"I see that our friends from Mirkwood have arrived."
Lord Elrond had appeared on the doorsteps of the Last Homely House, wearing robes of shimmering blue and silver. By his side was Lady Celebrían, beautiful and all dressed in white. Behind them their twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, could be seen. They both looked slightly uncomfortable in their robes, and Elladan repeatedly pulled on his collar which chafed on the skin of his neck. Arwen, on the other hand, was preening her new red dress.
"Oh yes, we have! Thank you for the invitation! I am Legolas!" Legolas said cheerfully, but without making any attempt to get up and let Erestor go free.
"I reckoned as much," Elrond said. "Well met, Legolas, son of Thranduil. We are all very happy to have you here in Imladris, and we hope that you will feel at home very soon."
Legolas smiled, and Elrond arched an eyebrow at his captain.
"Erestor, I would like to talk to you later on about this rather unusual welcome ritual."
Erestor looked at Legolas, who winked at him conspiratorially, and shrugged.
"Well, my lord, you told me to make sure that our guests are well entertained, and I am, as usual, only following your orders."
The crowd snickered, and also Elrond had to hide the hint of a smile on his face by turning his head towards his wife.
The only one not joining into the merriment was Glorfindel.
* * *
TBC