Title: What Is Meant to Be
Author: Laur Melyanna
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If it were mine, I wouldn't have a disclaimer. Ha!
*blush*
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor have a conversation about the way
people think things are meant to be, including them being together.
And all around them, things break the little stereotypes we grew
used to.
Notes: This is silly, and it has no quality to the writing. It is
not supposed to. It is supposed to be a light hearted banter focused
on dialogue rather than flowing script. So, I hope you enjoy with
that in mind.
This came out, I think, from a discussion on the Lindir Group as to
why so many think Lindir is white haired, or a minstrel, or Erestor
aloof etc. Talking about the ability we have to build these
characters almost freely, but yet stay a bit tied to the `common
place' we establish as a community.
Thanks for the help Nikki.


~~~~~


They sat beside one another contemplating the afternoon from their
perch under a tree. The dark haired elf sighed as he looked down at
his hands, then up at the blond next to him.

"They say we are supposed to be together." Erestor's voice was calm
and nonchalant.

"Don't I know it?" came the deep reply from his friend. Glorfindel
shifted to rest more comfortably against the tree, knowing the
advisor was not through with his speech.

"Because you are light and I am "dark". In our looks and behavior.
You are carefree and .flamboyant, outrageous and brave. I am -
supposedly - sour and sad, and lonely."

"Well, you are sad."

Erestor's green eyes shot up inquisitively at the Balrog
Slayer. "How is that?"

"Well" The blond smirked. "You just are. It's just sad how messy
your hair always is, and you always look like you just woke up. But
in truth I believe you just never go to sleep." The smirk broadened
impossibly. "And I don't fault you for it. If I had a bed warmer
like that, I wouldn't either."

The dark haired elf laughed. "He's not a bed warmer."

"Body warmer," both said in unison, nodding and casting lopsided
grins as they looked at each other from the corner of their eyes.

"So, we are supposed to be together," Erestor continued. "Because
you are the warrior and I'm the advisor. Because opposites attract
and odd ends fit together."

"Odd ends *do* fit together," the warrior pointed out, and this time
it was the advisor who smirked.

"Indeed."

There was silence for a few moments; both watched a bee fly about
from flower to flower with that annoying little buzz before
Glorfindel spoke again. "So, we are supposed to be together, and
love each other"

"But it is not you who I love," the dark haired elf said finally.

"Same here," they smiled calmly. They knew that all too well. "I
guess we are as meant to be together as Thranduil is meant to be
seducing Elrond through love and hate tactics."

Erestor snorted and rolled his eyes at his friend's
comparison. "Actually, they are together.but Elrond is the one
seducing. Which is rather disturbing, don't you find?" He looked at
the blond for signs of agreement, but he just saw a knowing smile on
that face. "Oh Valar."

"What can I do?" Glorfindel shrugged. "I have a thing for authority
figures."

"Ha! Then I suppose wanking in front of a mirror is your favorite
past time."

The Seneschal arched an eyebrow amusedly. "Thank you for
acknowledging my position of authority with your words, but no. So,
is your body warmer who you love?"

Erestor smiled and nodded briefly. "Yes, Lindir is the name."

There was another snort. The blond knew the figure well enough. "You
mean the tailor that thinks he has some sort of musical talent?"

"Oh do not be nasty, Glorfindel!" The advisor frowned trying to hide
his own smile. "I know he has no pitch, but moaning he sounds rather
nice. And it's the only song I care to hear from him anyway."

"Well said."

There was some silence again, all they could hear was Glorfindel's
fingers idly plucking patches of grass from the ground.

"So" The blond's eyes turned back to his friend as Erestor spoke
again. "Who is your love?"

"Mine?" The Balrog Slayer smiled broadly. "Well you already know I
fancy Haldir."

"Quite nice is it not? They both end with `dir'," the brunette said.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes at his friend's slightly mystical
words. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Sure, I just don't know what" the advisor teased, looking down at
his hands, he traced the calluses and light scars over it; one of
the downsides of having secret fancies for gardening. "Isn't it
funny? I was supposed to be the bottom who likes the bigger warrior,
and you were supposed to like the smaller, prettier one."

That comment made Glorfindel frown and think for a long while. "But
you are not a bottom."

"Nope. Neither do you like the smaller one."

"Hey." The blond scratched his ear "I am bigger than, Haldir."

Erestor pulled a face and shrugged. "If you say so."

"Hey! How would you know?" The question was suspicious but somewhat
light hearted.

"I was not talking about *that* kind of size, Glorfindel."

Surprisingly, that made the blond dislike the idea even more. "You
think he is bigger than me?"

"Well, what he lacks in size he substitutes with self confidence,"
the advisor nodded.

"Wait."

"What, Glorfindel?"

"But Haldir *is* supposed to be the arrogant one. Shouldn't that
mean that he really isn't?" The Balrog Slayer seemed rather confused
by that. He did not find the Marchwarden arrogant at all; to him it
was more the likes of vanity.

"Well, my dear friend." Erestor snapped his fingers soundly,
watching his friend flinch at the sound. ".not everything people
think is wrong, you know. Otherwise we would just all be plain
clueless."

"Yes, I suppose. It is true, Elladan and Orophin are together after
all.and that's predictable."

"That's because they are predictable."

"Oh, right." Glorfindel nodded before his friend had a chance to
expose - for the hundredth time - his theory of predictability from
that couple, which supposedly started with the irrevocable fact of
them being the middle children of their families; no extremes, no
contrasts, just middle, average blandness. Erestor did tend to
forget Orophin was the youngest, but it was better to leave it alone.

"By the way," the dark haired elf called out again. "Were you not
supposed to love Ecthelion too?"

"Nah, he was a drunken brat."

A dark brow arched. "I hear tell it was quite the contrary."

"Oh well," the warrior shrugged. "We both were drunken brats. And
like they say, equals don't attract."

"I believe it is quite the contrary they say"

Glorfindel shook his head vehemently "No, they say this, just phrase
it differently."

"You are right." Erestor smiled and nodded. "Who are they by the
way?"

"How am I supposed to know? People think that just because I
supposedly spoke to a Vala I know the answers."

"Now that I know you don't." Erestor shifted, stretching his legs
and crossing his ankles.

Glorfindel imitated the posture, crossing his hands over his stomach
and nodded. "Precisely"

From afar they could see Erestor's body warmer striding about with
heavy rolls of fabric in his arms while being followed by a frantic
elleth who waved her arms about demonstrating and instructing,
probably on how she wanted her new dress to be like.

"He is red haired," the warrior affirmed as if enlightening his
friend to new knowledge. "Lindir."

"Well yes." Erestor found that remark quite idiotic. "His father was
blond, and his mother was a brunette."

"That's not the only way to be red haired!"

"I know," the dark haired elf answered dryly.

"He has freckles too."

"Yes."

"Only on his face?" came the Glorfindel's eager question.

"Shut up." Erestor tried to hide a smile.

"Oohh he has it elsewhere too!"

There was a sound of something moving very fast - that being Erestor
turning to face his friend squarely. "So, how is it that you want to
know how many freckles my body warmer has but you have no idea if
Haldir has so much as a mole somewhere between his neck and his
toes?"

"Ah well." The Balrog Slayer shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not good at
that kind of seduction"

The advisor gasped outraged. "What do you mean you are not?! I gave
you hints myself!"

"No! Not that kind."

"Oh," Erestor paused a moment. "You are good at seducing, but not
wooing."

"Is there a difference?" The blond's brows were disconcertingly
creased although his eyes were paying attention to something else. A
furious looking march warden making evil hand signs at Erestor's
body warmer. Apparently he had been left waiting in Lindir's atelier
with his sleeves hanging from his arms with white marking on where
to be sewed, as well as a disturbing (to Glorfindel a rather
attractive) tear on the crotch of his pants.

"Well, to me there is." The advisor straightened up, moving his
hands from side to side as if it aided any in the explanation. "One
is more like a one night stand seduction. The other is a long-time
seduction, or a seduction that will have long term results."

"Ah, well, then I think you are right." The blond's eyes just would
not leave Haldir.or his ripped crotch. "You know, perhaps I could
use my one-night-stand seduction skills to make a cheesy comment on
about his crotch, lead to a one night stand and hope my charms will
ensure the long-term rest."

"That's rather risky," Erestoor warned. "Especially considering your
charms."

"I know. But for the hell of it! I at least know we would look hot
having sex. I think he will agree." Glorfindel preened himself and
stood, adjusting his robes and running a hand through his golden
hair.

Erestor sighed. "I do not doubt it. Shall we go then?" he asked,
standing up as well and still eyeing the bickering going on between
his freckled lover and Glorfindel's bulky intended. It would be
rather nice to help Lindir vent the frustration later. He just had
to make sure to keep the sewing needles away.

"Yes.yes, let's go." The blond smiled and took a deep breath,
smelling success coming his way. As they walked over to the heated
scene he remembered something that might have fit their conversation
about what people deemed others were supposed to be.

"By the way, Arwen is supposed to be the most beautiful elleth ever,
right?"

"Yes."

They snorted and went on their path.

The Eeeeend.