Title: O love me truly!

Author: tineryn

Contact: tineryn@yahoo.com

Rating: PG

Summary: Written for Exercise 6 at 'There and Back Again (and how to get there in the first place)'. Erestor reveals the contents of his pockets to Glorfindel. Slash.

Note: The following quote is the fifth stanza of 'You Say You Love' by John Keats.

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O breathe a word or two of fire!

O love me truly!

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It was quite dark by the time Erestor made it to his chambers. Glorfindel met him in the corridor on the way there, jogging slightly to catch up, and the two fell into a thick silence. The torches lining the walls had been lit hours ago with the onset of dusk, and the Last Homely House was quiet, broken by a few conversations trailing in from the cool summer gardens. While they were walking, they passed a minstrel lounging by a window, plucking a mellow tune on the harp. He was fair, and the firelight made his hair vibrant and daring. The minstrel's large, dark eyes followed them as they passed and his fingers continued playing.

The floor and walls flickered in a curious tangle of gold from the flames and silver from the big, bright moon, so that the house did not want for light even during these quiet hours. Erestor walked briskly despite having a companion beside him, keeping his head slightly down and his eyes determinedly forward. Glorfindel amused himself by studying Erestor; he was much taller than the dark Elf and had no trouble keeping stride.

After a little while, they reached Erestor's spartan door, and for the first time, the advisor acknowledged Glorfindel's presence. He nodded and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, softening his obsidian eyes as he opened the door and let the golden Elf into his chambers.

Glorfindel smiled and returned the nod as he stepped into the room. He had never been inside Erestor's rooms before; they always met for chess in the library after they finished work and the evening meal which, Glorfindel suspected, Erestor barely ever took. So he was surprised at the furnishings, having expected them to resemble the undecorated entrance and Erestor's stern, straight-laced choice of wardrobe.

The balcony doors had been thrown wide and the sheer drapes billowed in the air of the dewy, cool summer night. The walls were painted a warm red-brown and on the many shelves, lots of green things crept idly out of their pots. White statues decorated the corners; Erestor's large, wooden desk was slightly less neat than the one in his office, and the dark navy curtains around his bed were open to reveal a plush, comfortable looking quilt and many pillows.

When Glorfindel stopped to look, Erestor stopped also, lingering uncomfortably near the door. He did not bring people into his room often, because the contrast between it and the Elf they knew would shock them and they would gape. Glorfindel was not gaping, per say, but Erestor still did not like the feeling, wondering what his friend thought and what he would say next.

Glorfindel did not say anything for a while, but stood in the middle of the room looking around, looking genuinely interested. Every once in a while he would stop and stare at something, musing on it, before he forced himself to look at something else. He did this for a long time, and Erestor did not move. After he had sufficiently examined Erestor's quarters, Glorfindel turned to him and said, "I like it," and grinned at him.

Erestor's relief was palpable, even though he did not know why it mattered to him so much that his living space satisfied his friend. After a second, he indicated the sitting area, and that Glorfindel should make himself comfortable.

He did, plopping gracelessly onto the couch and putting his feet up on the table as if it were his own room. Something about that made Erestor happy even though Glorfindel was abusing his furniture. Erestor slowly walked over to the desk and began to empty his pockets.

'One quill, two-three quills, four quills,' he counted to himself, placing the items in a neat pile on the dark grain, stained and lacquered surface of the desk. '…two bottles of ink--there's one more in there somewhere, Elrond's seal, I must return that to him…'

"How much do you have in there?" an incredulous voice called from across the room. Erestor started and looked up at Glorfindel, who knelt on the seat, leaning his elbows on the back of the sofa so as to get a better look at Erestor.

Erestor was not sure how to respond, so he raised an eyebrow and said, "I beg your pardon?"

Glorfindel paused for a moment before he answered. "What is all that? How do you fit that all in your pocket!?" He got up and crossed the room in a few long strides, landing before Erestor and his desk. "For that matter," he continued, "how did your quills not break?"

"What? Oh… I don't know. I guess I've been carrying them in my pockets for so long that I have gotten used to having them there, so I don't break them any more… in my pockets…" Erestor averted his eyes, awkward under the scrutiny. "Don't you carry things in your pockets?"

Glorfindel laughed and put his hand out as if to touch Erestor, but reconsidered and dropped it again. Then he stopped laughing and was silent for a moment before breaking it and saying, "Of course I do, but not that much. How much do you have anyway? Go on, empty your pockets!"

Erestor hesitated, glancing at him quizzically for the strange request, but eventually conceded and stuck his arms slowly into his pockets. He pulled things out more slowly this time, considering each item as he removed it. He kept his eyes on Glorfindel the whole time.

The next four things he produced were ink bottles, three in jade green and one scarlet. Glorfindel's eyes followed his hands and he smiled indulgently to his companion. Then Erestor pulled out two rolls of parchment, which were not creased or damaged in any way. Erestor heard Glorfindel chuckle slightly and did not respond, rather considering the next item to remove. He felt around and hesitated, and then sighed and pulled out a scroll case.

Glorfindel noticed the hesitation and the sigh, punctuated with a measure of relief accompanying the scroll case. He frowned, but turned his attention to the item rather than questioning his friend. "What is that?"

Erestor looked at him dubiously. "It's a scroll case." Glorfindel rolled his eyes.

"Of course it is! I know that! I meant how-did-you-fit-that-in-there, and what is it about, anyway?"

Erestor fiddled with the item, opening it and tipping it so that the scroll slid out, but reconsidered and replaced it and placed it on the desk. "Oh… the latest missive from Greenwood." Erestor froze and looked up at Glorfindel. "They need aid."

Glorfindel's features darkened and he averted his eyes. "I know. Things bode ill for Thranduil… I heard the Men talking the last time Gondor visited. They call it… Mirkwood now.

"An apt name. Will you go?"

The golden Elf looked up again. "Yes, I suppose we will have to help them. They are kin, after all."

This time Erestor reached out, but stopped short of touching his friend. "I know. But, will you?"

Glorfindel sort of smiled at that, cocking his head as he asked. "I don't know. That depends on what Lord Elrond wants. Why do you ask?"

"Because, because…" Erestor shifted, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Oh, never mind!" He spun around then, and strode over to the window behind him, resting his forehead against the cool pane.

Something about his retreat, and the tone of his voice, made Glorfindel feel giddy inside and it made him smile. He did not move from his spot while he stood there, watching Erestor. "But why? Come on, Erestor, you can tell me. I won't make fun of you."

Erestor's breath condensed on the cool glass. He did not move his forehead, and he did not respond to Glorfindel's inquiry. For the first time, Glorfindel noticed his hand in his pocket. The fabric rustled slightly, bumping as his fingers moved about inside.

Glorfindel stared. "Erestor…" His voice came out in a whisper. "What do you have in your pocket?"

There was a long, long pause. Erestor turned around slowly, at length, his eyes wide, wet, and swollen. He gulped, but didn't say anything as he withdrew his trembling limb from within his robes.

It was a lock of hair. Golden hair. Glorfindel was ashen, and he glanced between Erestor's hand and his eyes. Erestor's cheeks stained fuchsia and he closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

"You… you were sparring one day." He spoke slowly and clearly, taking much effort to prevent his tears from affecting his speech. "Your opponent's blade caught some of your hair and it fluttered to the ground. I picked it up." He opened his wide, black eyes. "It has been with me ever since."

Now Glorfindel was shaking slightly, and his pallor was still bloodless. "You… you…" He licked his lips and considered something. "Why did you ask me that?"

Erestor stroked the lock of hair, examining it as he did so. "Because…" His voice regained some of its surety, but he still spoke slowly. "… because I do not want you to leave me."

Glorfindel's face cracked into another great, shining smile. "Oh, Erestor!" he breathed. "This is wonderful because… because I do not want to leave you either." Suddenly they were closer together, and Glorfindel's hands were on Erestor's shoulders.

He leaned over and tasted Erestor's lips, hesitantly at first, but soon they were crushing together; his hands were all over the dark Elf's body and he could taste salt from tears on Erestor's lips and in his mouth. Erestor's hands roamed up onto his head, tangling his hands into Glorfindel's yellow mane, and Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor's waist and drew him closer. They moved, and Glorfindel pinned Erestor up against the wall.

They broke apart, gasping for breath. Glorfindel was smiling, and this time Erestor smiled back at him, flushed and dazed. "Glorfindel, I…" he breathed, but he did not know what he wanted to say. "Glorfindel…"

Glorfindel sighed deeply and took Erestor's face between his large, coarse hands. "My Erestor…" He leaned in, nuzzling gently against Erestor's face. "I do not want to leave you either."

Then they kissed again, more gently this time, and they both knew that he wouldn't.

The End.