Chapter Text
Who wakes up first: Me. Erestor likes to pretend he is all kinds of perfect, but he really is not a morning person. Actually, he is pretty slow in the mornings, though he hides it well.
Who is the big spoon: Me, but it would actually be nice to have Erestor do that from time to time, too.
How often do you fight: All the time!
Most common argument: The budget. That is, Imladris' budget. Erestor is a pretty face with the soul of a dwarf. If all misers that ever walked Middle-Earth were to form a kingdom, Erestor would be their king.
"What in Arda is this?"
It was addressed to nobody, of course, alone as Erestor was in his office. He had found the offending piece of parchment on his desk when he returned from the midday meal. He could not place the handwriting, nor did he have any inkling as to who would leave it there. As for the contents...
Frowning, he crumpled the scrap of parchment, threw it in the bin, and went on about his day.
--
Erestor thought nothing of the note again until a week later, when he found that a second note was left on his desk.
Who stays up all night reading: That sounds like the kind of adorable thing Erestor would do. Adorable or insufferable, depending on my mood and, come to think of it, depending on how easy it will be to get him to put that book down if I want him to.
Who would throw the other into a fountain: I would. Thank you, by the way. This sounds like a great idea.
Who plans date night: I would, I suppose. Erestor has the busier calendar, so I might end up marking dates there for him to spend with me. You laugh, but that was not a joke.
Who will apologize first after a fight: I would, because Erestor is a stubborn toad who will step on your cat and blame you for letting it lie on the floor.
Erestor read the note with a frown, feeling more and more confused with each line that he read.
A stubborn toad, am I? he thought, glaring at that line. Come to think of it, he distinctly remembered being called a miser in the first note as well. Obviously, whoever was sending him these notes had some less than kind thoughts about him.
Still, what about these other lines? Staying up all night reading is adorable? Planning date night?
Erestor's mind reeled at the conflicting sentiments on the parchment that kept repeating his name. He supposed it was more like a list... of questions about two people, and who of the two are more likely to be described in the given scenarios? Who was asking these questions? Is this a game?
From these answers, and from what he could remember from the first note, it seemed that whoever was answering these questions seemed to know Erestor to a certain degree, at least better than many other Elves in Imladris. Not only that, he knew Erestor and was also irritatingly opinionated about what he knew.
Just who was sending him these things?
"Saelbeth?" he called out, turning to the open door of his office, just outside of which was the senior counselor's desk, visible to Erestor's view.
Saelbeth's blond head lifted up from his work. "Yes, my lord?"
"Have you noticed anyone enter my office recently? Or perhaps even last week?"
"Enter it? Nay, I have not. No one enters your rooms. Why? Did it seem like someone did? Are we missing anything?"
Saelbeth's tone was beginning to rise, so Erestor was quick to placate him. "Peace, my friend. It is nothing and affects not our work. It is just that I keep receiving these notes..."
"Notes? What kind of notes?"
Erestor looked at the said note in his hand, frowning again. "Just... strange notes. Oh, nevermind. I do not know what they are myself. They seem to be of a personal nature, and I was just curious who might be leaving them. I thought you might have seen someone."
Saelbeth looked worried. "These are not threatening notes, are they? Perhaps you should report them?"
Erestor chuckled. "Calm down, Saelbeth, they are not like that. It looks like they are made in jest, actually. Nothing to worry about."
The other counselor looked relieved. "Oh, good. Well, in that case, I have seen no one, but if I or the other counselors ever do, I will let you know."
"Thank you," said Erestor before returning to his office.
He resolved to keep the note and its mysterious sender out of his mind. Needless to say, however, Erestor avoided fountains and other bodies of water throughout that week.
--
Who worries more: I admit it would probably be me. Erestor does not seem to worry much, but let us just say that nothing would make me happier than if he chooses to be a counselor all his life. Anyway, indoor occupations are lovely, too. I mean, not for me, but he seems to like it well enough. I know he fought in wars in earlier ages, but if we were together and he decides to take up the sword again? Oh, it would kill me.
Who takes care of the other better: It would be nice to say Erestor. That kind of coolness in public makes you wish he makes up for it in private, you know? It would be especially nice after a particularly long patrol. Plus, Erestor can be a bit of a nag - when it comes to work, I mean - but I probably would not mind it so much if he did so for more personal reasons. It would be rather sweet, actually.
Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile: Well, you know, since he is the one who stays up reading, I am going to give this one to Erestor. Plus, I have been told I am a pleasant sleeper. I will have you know, I am actually quite the lovable bedmate.
Who makes the other sleep on the couch after an argument: Erestor. Valar, I can actually see him doing this.
The note was longer this time, which was good, thought Erestor. He was waiting for it the third time around, thinking that, after all, if he received a second one, there was most likely going to be a third and a fourth until the sender achieved his goal, whatever that might be. In the meantime, Erestor would attempt to figure out who this infernal sender was.
True enough, more things were clear to him based on the last note. The content of the notes apparently implied scenarios where he and the sender were romantically involved. Strange, but he ignored that for now. The sender was a warrior; the first item was a clue, and the second confirmed it with the mention of patrols. This narrowed down his list of culprits significantly, and given the frustrating insights contained in these notes, that quip about the valley's budget, not to mention the voice that was beginning to emerge from all of them, he now had a good guess as to who in the valley had the gall to say such things about him.
The walk to the barracks did not take him long. Many Elves scurried out of his way, and in no time at all, he was in front of a certain golden-maned hero of old, who was currently too busy with his book, he did not even deign to look up even as Erestor's shadow fell on him.
"Captain," called Erestor to gain his attention.
Blue eyes did look up at that, though the captain did not move, and the book stayed where it was. "Counselor," Glorfindel said in a curious but guarded tone.
"Would you care to tell me why you are leaving notes on my desk?"
The other put his book down and frowned. "What notes?"
Dark eyebrows furrowed at the denial. Erestor fished for the offending parchment from the pockets of his robes and lifted it between two fingers. "Does this look familiar?"
"The answer is still no, I'm afraid," said Glorfindel, although he did reach out to take the note from Erestor's hand. He examined the note, and Erestor could have sworn that the other's jaw literally dropped as he scanned the page. "How did you get this?" demanded Glorfindel.
"I already said that someone was leaving them on my desk," said Erestor with a glare. "So you were not the one leaving them after all?"
"What? Of course not. It's embarrassing that you even found out about this."
Erestor took a slow breath to calm himself. He folded his arms and continued to glare down at Glorfindel. "Embarrassing for you? So you admit that it was you who said these things?"
For a moment, Glorfindel just stared up at him, and Erestor thought he saw the moment the realization sunk in. "I suppose I cannot get out of that now," said the captain with a pained wince. "It's this silly game they came up with at the Hall of Fire. I do not know if they intend it the way it is being played, but the game tends to start once everyone is drunk. You basically drink when the answer to the question is the name of your partner or if it is a question you cannot answer."
"Fascinating," said Erestor in a tone that clearly told Glorfindel that it was anything but. "Why is my name there?"
"Oh, that. It is actually a game for couples, but since not everyone is part of such relationships, they... pick someone out for us who are unattached, and we play as if we are together with them. They have Naurliniel for Gildor, Elrohir for Lindir, and for Elladan--"
"Elladan plays?" Erestor asked, astonished and disapproving. "When Lindir plays paired to Elrohir?"
Glorfindel grinned. "He thinks it's funny because his brother is - and I quote - 'a prude who should open himself to the pleasures of life'. How that is to be achieved when it is Lindir who plays, I do not know." He sighed at Erestor's unimpressed look and sat up, leaning over to give the other a look clearly meant to calm. "Look, it is a harmless game. It seems to amuse people, which is why it is played so often."
"And they picked me for you. Why?"
"We are the same rank? I do not know, Erestor. I just play. Worry not, it is only a game." He leaned back in his seat and smiled up at Erestor, gaze challenging. "You should join us sometime and see for yourself."
"No, thank you," scoffed Erestor, chin lifting in distaste. "I am not much for drinking, nor am I much for games."
--
Erestor thought that that would be the end of things. Surely, now that Glorfindel knew about Erestor receiving his answers from their silly game, he would cease playing, or at least play with a different Elf as his fictional partner.
Well. He did not.
Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them: All over the desk? Erestor. I am more likely to carve such things on a tree - or the wood of his door.
Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order: Hah! That will be Erestor.
Who wakes the other with kisses in the morning: As the sweeter one, I am more likely to do this.
Who is more affectionate: Me. Erestor does not seem to be very affectionate. I would be perfectly happy if I was wrong about this, though.
Council was scheduled to meet that day, and Erestor made sure to sit beside Glorfindel. He leaned over the other the moment he took his seat.
"You do realize that I am still getting those notes?"
Glorfindel glanced at him, lips quirking in an infuriating smile. "I figured you would be, seeing as we are still playing."
"And you do not mind? Are you not even going to find out who is sending me those blasted notes? I do not care to know what it is you get up to in the evenings when you are all drunk and stupid, even if you do use my name." Erestor winced. "Especially when you use my name," he added.
Glorfindel, instead of being insulted as he was supposed to, actually had the gall to laugh. "You are a funny one," he said in between bouts of mirth. "As for who is sending the notes to you, I am still working on that. It is a large group, and spirits can make even good Elves do ridiculous things. In the meantime, though, I am having fun. I suggest you do the same."
Erestor gave his colleague a withering glare, even as he pulled back and settled on his seat. "You are shameless, do you know that?"
Glorfindel laughed again. "Only with my favorites, Counselor."
--
And so it was that for the next couple of weeks, Erestor would sometimes find the results of a previous night's game waiting for him on his desk. A few of them included:
Who ‘wears the pants’ in the relationship: Probably Erestor, just because he has the worse temper.
Who remembers their anniversaries: Both. Erestor, because he remembers everything. Me, because I believe love is a serious matter.
Who will cry at the wedding: Wait. I will most likely cry at my own wedding, but I refuse to be the only one. There will be no wedding until I am sure he will end up crying, too.
Who starts the tickle fights: I would, once I figured out Erestor's ticklish spots.
There were actually a few that sparked conversation - mostly because Erestor could not help but remark upon them.
Who sings the other to sleep: I will say Erestor because I want to hear him sing.
"I do not sing," he told Glorfindel when they sat together during dinner.
"I cannot believe that. Everybody sings," said Glorfindel. Erestor remembered that day because Glorfindel wore his hair differently, which softened his features in a way that worked well for him, and the sapphire clip he used to pin it up suited his coloring.
"Some prefer not to, is what I meant."
"Hmm. We can work on that." Glorfindel smiled at the look Erestor gave him. "How about reading to me to sleep? Would you be more amenable to that?"
Erestor sighed, but he did shrug. "Reading, I can do."
Glorfindel had looked far too pleased with that answer.
Then there was also the odd time when he received this one:
Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines: Hm. I just might take this one up as a challenge.
And the following day, as Erestor was walking down a hallway, he heard a voice call from behind him.
"What is this? I thought Telperion shines and lives again in Arda, but alas, 'tis only you."
His steps faltered and, upon realizing what was happening, he groaned. "Oh Valar, please no."
"Do you happen to be the Sea?" Glorfindel came in to view as he fell into step with Erestor. "Because you pulled at my heart when I heard you calling."
"Glorfindel, stop," pleaded Erestor. There were a few Elves around them, a few of whom heard Glorfindel's earlier call and the statement he made in jest, and were now watching them, hiding grins behind their hands. Erestor sighed and did his best to glare at all of them.
They entered the council room together. Glorfindel was quiet for a while, which allowed Erestor to settle down and do the usual things he did to prepare for council, even if he did do so now while casting suspicious glances to the Elf beside him from time to time.
He was reading through his notes when he felt more than saw Glorfindel leaning over to him again. The captain whispered, "Are you a Balrog?"
Erestor quickly turned to him, eyes slowly widening in horror. "You would not."
Glorfindel's grin was unapologetic. "Because you ensnare me so that I just might fall for you."
"That is morbid!" Erestor could not help but hit Glorfindel with the scroll he was holding, mindless of the other counselors who saw, or even that Elrond picked that exact moment to enter the room. Their lord looked at them both pointedly, frowning at the ruckus, which had Erestor shaking his head and the captain snickering uncontrollably beside him.
Sometimes, too, a few would be there that would make Erestor raise an eyebrow.
Who stares at the other more: What? I do not stare at him that much. Maybe just a little bit in council. All right, maybe a lot in council. Those things are boring and he is nice to look at, that's all.
Erestor shook his head. He knew not to take these things seriously. It was a game and Glorfindel was a notorious flirt, and the living legend could make any Elf in Imladris swoon if he so deigned as to pay them any attention. This time, unfortunately, it seemed that Erestor was currently in Glorfindel's field of view, and seemed to enjoy baiting him with this silly game.
He sighed. Nothing else to do but to bear it until Glorfindel grew tired of it, he supposed. Hopefully, he would do so soon enough.
--
"Good afternoon, Counselor."
Erestor looked up from his work to find Glorfindel standing under his open doorway. The captain had his arms folded and was smiling at him strangely, and leaning so casually like that against the door frame, he looked every bit the handsome rogue who starred prominently in Imladris' gossip circles and rumor mill. Erestor used to frown at his popularity, thinking them unfounded and propelled only by his fame. Recently, however, with so much of Glorfindel's attention focused on him, he grudgingly admitted that he could see his appeal, and he could now understand why some claim he could have them weak at the knees.
"Good afternoon," he greeted back carefully, as he was not expecting a visit. "Can I help you?"
Glorfindel shook his head. "Just thought I should drop by to let you know I will be gone for a few months."
Erestor frowned. "Right," he said, though he was confused. Glorfindel needed not report to him for such a thing. "That border check, I know." Erestor hesitated for a moment, lacking anything appropriate to say. "You leave today?"
"Yes," was all Glorfindel said.
"I see." He met the captain's level gaze, which seemed to be waiting for him still to speak. "Well. Be safe."
A dark blond eyebrow rose. "Thanks." Glorfindel continued to stare at him, however, and Erestor was beginning to feel unnerved. What else could he want? Eventually, Glorfindel said, "You will not be receiving those notes for a while. Will you be all right? Don't miss me too much."
Erestor cursed the blush that he knew rose up to his cheeks. He glared at Glorfindel. "I look forward to the next few months of peace, actually."
Glorfindel smirked, but said nothing. They stared at one another a few moments more, with Erestor feeling more and more confused with each moment that passed, before Glorfindel finally broke the contact with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. He then stalked off without a word.
Erestor watched him go.
Well. That was odd.
--
With Glorfindel gone, Erestor's days were shockingly silent, and his desk, of course, was free of notes. He did not think much of it during the first week, but sometime after the second week, he found himself opening a drawer and holding up the last note that he received.
Who remembers what the other would want for a special dinner: I know Erestor is fond of fish - simple preparations, baked or grilled - and I know he likes his meals with a lot of greens. He does not really change his choices even on special occasions. I suppose I will take this one.
Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion: I would. He gives me good incentive because he looks good in candlelight.
Who gets jealous more easily: Huh, interesting. I never thought about it before. Me, apparently.
Who initiates more kisses: I probably would. If I could get away with it, I would get him to kiss me every time I see him.
Erestor sighed. Glorfindel was getting better at these things, it was almost convincing. It was getting dangerous, too, he realized, as he could no longer deny that he sometimes stared blindly at a spot in his rooms or out through the windows, seeing something else as he did so - golden hair and blue eyes from images inside his mind.
Daydreaming, for Valar's sake! About Imladris' most coveted of rogues!
It simply would not do. Glorfindel was a butterfly who fleeted from flower to flower without really settling, for no one really knew if he had anyone as a serious lover or mate, nor did he ever walk beside anyone since his return. Everyone in Imladris - not to mention Mithlond, Lorien, and Greenwood - wanted the returned Calaquendi to some degree, and how many others he paid such attentions to as he now did Erestor, Erestor did not even wish to know. He was trouble, most certainly, and Erestor cursed himself for being careless and possibly encouraging such behavior in the first place.
The parchment crumpled in Erestor's hand and he threw it at the back of the drawer from which it came. He stood up and strode out of his office. Fresh winds and a walk under the Sun ought to help clear his mind, and help him find a way out of this problem in which he found himself.
--
Glorfindel's return was marked with a new note on Erestor's desk.
Who reaches for the other’s hand first: Me. That's a nice thought. I should make him hold my hand every time we are together. He would be so annoyed.
Who leads in a dance: He could lead me if he wants to.
Who is angered more easily: Erestor. Is he not angry all the time? It does not seem to take much.
Who is more likely to cry during a fight: I do not think either one of us is the crying type, but between the two of us, I believe he is more likely to say something hurtful, or maybe that I would be more likely to take seriously the harsh things he would say.
Erestor sighed as he placed the note inside his drawer. "Saelbeth."
A voice called from the other room. "My lord?"
"I will be running late, but could you save me a seat beside you? Have mine either to Elrond's right or left hand; whichever is fine."
"Certainly," answered Saelbeth, ever reliable, as he came in to view, his notes already clutched to his chest. "I will tell Lord Elrond that you will follow shortly."
"Thank you," said Erestor, and he nodded as Saelbeth bid him farewell.
It was a day for council again, and he was sure to see Glorfindel, whom he still did not wish to see or speak with. The position Erestor requested would put him at the corner of the long table, with Saelbeth as his only seatmate. He should be safe if he stuck close to Saelbeth, who had the tendency to fill the silence with all sorts of topics that would enter his mind, so he would keep Erestor busy for a while.
He did not meet Glorfindel's eyes the entire time. Even after council, when the other moved to greet him, Erestor only stayed long enough to return the greeting. He then excused himself and called to Saelbeth, and fell into step beside the other counselor, clutching at his arm so he would move faster.
--
He had not spoken with Glorfindel, as he was able to evade the other several more times, and it was a while before he found any notes on his desk again. When finally they returned, Erestor's eyes widened at what he read.
Who is better at dirty talk: Oh, I am taking this one. I already have a repertoire of things I wish to whisper in his ear in private - and in public, when he least expects it.
Who tops: I believe we will switch. Right now, however, I am in the mood to say that I will.
Which kinks do you share: I do not know why, but I have a feeling Erestor would respond well to being held down during sex. This other one I am not so sure about, but I have this fantasy about him in a blindfold.
Favorite place to have sex: His office. My office. Either of the two, but for now, I prefer mine. There is something about taking him in my territory that is immensely satisfying. Plus, I think my desk is sturdier. He'll need it.
Erestor seethed. He knew it - either the other was making fun or he was indeed interested in a bedding. Did Glorfindel really say such things aloud? In public, where many who knew Erestor could hear and laugh about it, probably even egging the captain on, drunken fools as they were?
This note went to the bin, torn and crumpled into a tight ball. He then strode to open one of the tall windows in his office, letting the afternoon breeze cool the heat of his cheeks.
What infuriated Erestor all the more was that the words were not without their effect on him. He looked out to the jagged summits of the Hithaeglir, needing somewhere to focus his gaze even as the images of Glorfindel's words assaulted his senses.
Of course he had thought about him that way. One cannot be in the throes of infatuation and not think about such things even in passing. Glorfindel was attractive even by Elven standards - handsome and tall, broad and strong. Everything about him was eye-catching, from the deep gold of his hair, the blue of his eyes, even his lips that were always smooth and dark pink, as if he had spent the day worrying them between his teeth. He was the perfect fantasy, undoubtedly a companion for many during sleepless nights, and however well Erestor had pushed such thoughts from his mind, so effectively were they brought to the forefront now when it was Glorfindel himself who painted them for him so vividly.
Erestor closed his eyes, his lips a thin line even as a hand rose to clutch at the neckline of his robes. He felt warm in a way he did not like, and he opened his eyes to glare at the blue skies, so reminiscent of those teasing eyes. Valar, how he could feel offended and seduced both at the same time, he could not understand.
He made sure to avoid Glorfindel even more for the days that followed. No other notes was left on his desk then, and soon enough, he was relieved to hear that the captain was out on patrol again.
--
Glorfindel was gone for about a month, during which Erestor filled his time with work. Sometimes, more often than he cared to count, he would work well into the night, and occasionally even greet Arien from the windows of his office. He found he had no desire or inclination to sleep, and so he did not.
He knew about Glorfindel's return through a note on his desk, after a night when he actually decided to return to his rooms, though he spent it wide awake.
Who makes the important decisions at home: I am not quite sure what this means, but the safe answer would be Erestor.
Who speaks for the other: Maybe Erestor. I would not mind. I might even be pleased by it, actually.
Who would cuddle the other for no reason: I would, if I were given the right to such liberties.
Who will say 'I love you' first: Me, when the time is right.
So casually did he joke about such things, not knowing what they did to Erestor. In a moment of weakness, Erestor wondered what it would be like for such things to be true.
He scanned the contents of the note briefly once more before he viciously tore the parchment in two.
Glorfindel tried to speak to him several more times, but Erestor never lingered in his company long enough for anything substantial to be said, and he excused himself one way or another after the initial pleasantries.
It was after he passed Glorfindel down a hallway without a greeting that the notes stopped coming. As did Glorfindel, as a matter of fact, and save for when council met, rarely did Erestor see him in the days that followed. In council, Erestor sometimes felt the other's gaze on him, but never again did Glorfindel approach, and the captain himself was out the door immediately after the meetings adjourned.
This, he firmly told himself, was a relief.