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Love's Token	By : Faoiltierna Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2070 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Love's Token
- 1
Love’s Token

Title: Love’s Token

Author: Faoiltierna

Type: FPS

Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor

Rating: PG-17

Disclaimer: Not mine. Tolkien's estate owns the rights to the characters, places, etc. Plot is mine.

Warnings: None

Beta: TribalKnight

Author’s notes: Written for the Glorestor competition.

Summary: Love creeps in on oliphaunt toes.

“What is that?” Erestor demanded, stopping in the doorway of his office.
His assistant Lothvaen looked up, then over to the black haired elf’s desk. “A flower. One of the lady’s
best roses, in fact, I believe.”
“What is it doing on my desk?” Imladris’s chief councilor asked, his light green eyes narrow.
Lothvaen smiled, his own eyes far-focused. “It is Lover’s Day, Master Erestor. Tokens from one’s lover
are to be expected. Yours obviously went to a lot of trouble, the lady’s roses all got spoken for last
month. I’ve been in charge of the waiting list.”
Erestor’s eyes narrowed further. “I do not currently have a lover, Lothvaen. So I ask again. Why is there
a lover’s token on my desk on this anniversary of our lord and lady’s marriage?”
The brunet blinked. “You don’t? Then why—“
“I asked first!” Erestor took a deep breath and moved closer to his desk. He glared at the offending bit of
flora then back at his assistant. “You know who got one of these—who gave it to me?”
Lothvaen quickly shook his head. “I know who was on the list, but not who they’re for. The flower was
here when I arrived.”
“Then—“ He stopped and picked up the sealed note under the rose. It was addressed to him. He pinched
the bridge of his nose with his other hand and sat down heavily. “Why don’t you go check on how things
are going for tonight? I feel a frustration headache coming on and you know how I tend to yell when that
happens.”
“You’re putting me in charge of tonight’s festivities?” Lothvaen asked, eyes wide, hands clutching the
edge of his desk which sat opposite Erestor’s.
Erestor rubbed his eyes and sighed. “All the plans are set, you are highly competent and I trust you will
do your best. So yes. Now go.”
With a brilliant smile and a bounce in his step Lothvaen sang out, “I won’t fail you sir!” and ran from the
office before Erestor might change his mind, leaving his desk chair spinning.
Left in the peaceful calm alone with his flower Erestor stared at the note bearing his name. After several
minutes of staring he turned it over and looked at the seal on the back, a plain blob of wax.
/It is the Lady Celebrian’s handwriting, but I don’t believe it is from her. She is an incurable romantic,
however. …I could just open it./ He stared at the blob of wax.
Finally he got up and shut his office door. After a moment’s hesitation he also locked it. He walked over
to the door to Elrond’s office and locked that too, before crossing the length of his own office to check
that his door to the library was still secure. He took both the flower and the note to the padded bench
under the largest of the bank of windows and sat down, leaning back against the light green embroidered
pillows arrayed there.
The rose was his favorite, a fact known only to a few, deep red at the heart, lightening to rose at the tips.
All the thorns had been removed. /Not just a friend’s gift, then,/ he mused. /Not red, not with the thorns
taken off./ He sniffed its delicate scent as he looked at the seal again.
He gently laid the rose on his chest and, with shaking fingers, he broke the seal and opened the note.
Dearest Erestor,

At the Lady’s urging I am declaring my deep feelings for you, mellon-nin.
I love you.
I cannot say when I started loving you, for I cannot remember a time when I didn’t love you. Considering
that we met only recently after I began my second life here on Arda this might sound confusing, but I
assure you it is true.
Do you love me?
The Lady assures me that you like me and that you enjoy my company—but that I already know; we are
friends. Could we be more? Would you want to?
They sing of my battle against the Balrog in the mountains above Gondolin, that I was brave and heroic—
but this note has taken all of my courage to write.
Please, if your feelings for me are warmer than that of a friend, meet me at the tall oak near the training
fields for lunch. Otherwise we will remain friends and put this behind us, yes?
With great hope and love,

Glorfindel
Erestor turned his head and looked out the window, not seeing the beautiful day, the sunshine, the
waterfalls, the trees, the happy lovers holding hands as they strolled the garden. All he saw were blue
eyes deep enough to drown in, golden blond hair that made sunbeams jealous and a smile…a smile meant
only for him.
An hour passed before the laughter of elflings below broke through the soothing sounds of the wind and
the waterfalls and started him from his thoughts. /Mid-morning./ He tucked the note into his sleeve and
left his office. /Elrond has taken the day off. Good./
Back in his rooms Erestor undressed as he entered his sitting room, tossing his robe onto the back of a
chair, quite unlike his usual tidy self. He moved into his bedroom and vacillated between the wardrobe
and the dresser for several minutes before deciding on a more casual look. He changed into leggings and
a tunic and braided his hair. Then he unbraided his hair and changed into a different tunic. Then he
rebraided his hair. “Ah! It is not yet eleven! Perhaps I could arrive early however? I wouldn’t want him
to think I wasn’t coming…” He tucked the note into his belt, grabbed the rose and left his rooms.
Everywhere were signs of love. Elves strolled along holding hands, the smell of flowers perfumed the air,
some being carried, and both gifts and kisses were being freely exchanged.
Erestor stopped in front of a tapestry of Thingol and Melian, Elrond’s great-great grandparents. /A gift. I
should bring him a gift. What?/
As he stood stock still in the hallway, arrested between steps, lost in thought, a gentle cough drew his
attention back to his surroundings. “Lady Celebrian!”
The silver haired lady was dressed in fresh greens and blues, her husband’s favorite colors for her, and
carried an armful of irises. “Master Erestor, how pleasant to see you. Were you on your way somewhere
or might I borrow you for a moment?”
He looked past her sweet and innocent smile to her bright and twinkling eyes and bowed. “I have an
engagement for lunch, my lady, but I can always spare a moment for you.”
Her eyes flicked to the rose he carried then back up at him. “A moment is all I need.”
He followed her to the Great Hall where elves scurried about at Lothvaen’s direction, hanging up special
tapestries, decorating the tables, arranging the seating. Celebrian looked about with a happy smile then
frowned down at the flowers she was carrying.
“Oh these won’t do at all. Here.” She handed the armful to Erestor. “Do something with these, won’t
you?”
“Of course, my lady. They’re—“ /the color of Glorfindel’s eyes/ “perfect.” With another bow he turned
and started to leave.
“Oh, Erestor?”
He turned back.
She smiled at him. “Have a lovely lunch.”
“Thank you.” Another bow, deeper this time, and he was gone.
Approaching the training fields through the gardens, Erestor slowed his pace. /What if I’m too early?
What if he’s changed his mind? What if it was all a big joke? What if--/
There, under the tall oak, lay a picnic: a beautiful light green cloth, a basket of food, a bottle of wine,
plates…and a tall, blond, nervously pacing, warrior.
“What if he doesn’t come? What if he doesn’t come? What if he doesn’t come? What if—“
“I came,” Erestor said softly.
Glorfindel stopped. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked over at Erestor. “You came,” he
whispered.
“I-I brought you flowers,” Erestor said, holding them out.
“They’re beautiful,” Glorfindel said, not looking from Erestor’s face.
“They match your eyes.” He moved closer to where Glorfindel stood. “Actually, the lady gave them to
me. For you. For me to give to you.”
“She gave me picnic. A picnic. For us.”
“Helpful.”
“Very.”
Erestor knelt on the ground cloth and laid his flowers at Glorfindel’s feet. He sat back on his heels and
pulled the note from his belt. He looked up at the blond whose hair gleamed in the sun. “Yes. Yes and
yes, Glorfindel.”
Glorfindel fell to his own knees like an elfling’s rag doll. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
The smile started slow, almost tentative, but quickly blazed forth to rival the sun in brilliance. “You do?”
“Yes.”
The irises got a bit scrunched.
Fortunately it was a cold lunch of breads, fruits and cured meats and did not suffer for being ignored in
favor of kissing for a while.
Later that afternoon Elrond and Celebrian wandered over to the tall oak, hand in hand. Erestor was
leaning back against the tree trunk, listening to the wind blow through the high boughs, with Glorfindel
leaning back against his chest, asleep.
“Poor dear,” Celebrian said. “He hasn’t been sleeping well these last few days, he told me.”
“You will be at the dinner tonight, won’t you?” Elrond asked his chief councilor.
“After all the hard work Lothvaen put into it? Of course we’ll be there.” He spoke quietly but could not
resist tightening his arms possessively about Glorfindel who promptly awoke.
“Elrond, my lady!” He tried to get up, but Erestor’s arms and his awkward position conspired against him.
“Be at peace, Glorfindel,” Elrond told him.
“I should—the troops, training,” Glorfindel protested.
“I gave them the rest of the day off, those that aren’t actually on post,” Elrond said. “They seemed to
agree that you were…otherwise preoccupied today.”
Glorfindel turned pink. “Yes, well…”
“It’s okay,” Celebrian said. “But don’t be late to dinner!”
Still hand in hand the two walked away, across the field back to the privacy of the lush gardens.
Glorfindel slumped against Erestor’s chest. “That was embarrassing.”
“Sorry. I didn’t see them until they were right on top of us.”
“No, no, not you, my love.” Glorfindel twisted about until they were chest to chest, his back arching.
“That just wasn’t my best foot forward as Captain of the Guard and Protector of Imladris.”
“You will be the fierce Protector and Captain again tomorrow,” Erestor soothed. “Today you are my new
love.”
“Mm, yes.” Glorfindel captured Erestor’s lips with his own.
Later, now astride Erestor’s lap, Glorfindel paused for a moment. He rested his head against Erestor’s
neck and wiped his lips dry with his hand. Erestor chuckled as he did the same.
“Have you,” the blond started then hesitated. “Have you thought about, you know, us…sex…making
love?”
Erestor grew still. “It did cross my mind, once or twice,” he admitted. “But as I was not aware you
returned my feelings, I didn’t dwell on it.”
“Oh.” Glorfindel shifted a bit. “I—occasionally dwelled.”
“And did you come to any sort of conclusion?”
“Every time.” Glorfindel’s shoulders shook.
Erestor tilted the blond’s head back by a hand in his hair and gave him a Look. “I didn’t mean it that
way!”
Glorfindel was laughing. “I know. Sorry, I just couldn’t resist!”
He released the blond head, letting it return to his shoulder. “Did you--. Were you--.” He sighed. “Just
answer the question!”
“I do admire that about you,” Glorfindel admitted. “Your drive, your passion, your strength…the way
you can take charge of any situation…”
Erestor thought for a moment then tightened his arms around his new love who snuggled against him.
“So—you would welcome me taking charge?”
“All of my fantasies tend to revolve around it,” Glorfindel said softly.
“All?”
“Mm-hm.”
Erestor started to kiss him, but then pulled back and whispered, “We are in full view of the barracks. And
the windows are full of eyes.”
Glorfindel sighed.
“What do you say we continue our picnic inside?” Erestor asked.
“Your rooms or mine?” Glorfindel levered himself out of Erestor’s lap and began quickly repacking the
basket.
They were late for dinner.
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Love's Token

Love’s Token