Glorfindel walked briskly through the halls of the Last Homely House. Haldir, an old friend from Lorien, had arrived earlier that morning on official business, and Glorfindel looked forward to seeing him. He smiled to himself for the first time in weeks, fondly remembering the madcap days of their misspent youth. A deadly combination they had been, once upon a time...Haldir, with his languid sensuality, and Glorfindel, with his rugged masculinity. Many an elf had succumbed to the charms of the dashing duo. Ah, but those days were long gone. Lately, Glorfindel's idea of excitement consisted of chasing stray orcs from the Northern borders, or playing chess with Lindir. He simply had no time for pursuing romance. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

Several elves stopped to gawk as the blond, leather-clad warrior purposefully strode past them, his boots echoing down the nearly empty corridors. He gave his admirers not so much as a glance. Staring elves came with the territory, and after several thousand years of being worshiped as a hero, he had grown tired of it. Most elves viewed him either as an ancient warrior from the first age, or an unapproachable weapons master, with a hawkish stare and a fiercely competitive nature. That, coupled with his penchant for dressing in head-to-toe black leather, caused most elves to keep their distance.

As he entered the inner courtyard, Glorfindel spotted his friend fluidly draped on a bench under an expansive oak, staring unabashedly at the slim figure of an elf digging in the soil under a rosebush. Haldir never changed. Despite the onward march of centuries, he remained gloriously lecherous. He prided himself in his ability to charm elves of all ages. The only elves Glorfindel had charmed recently were Lord Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Of course, they were barely out of diapers and found anyone with a pocket full of candy to be irresistible.

"Eyeing your next conquest, my friend?" called Glorfindel, carefully descending the courtyard steps toward Haldir. Glorfindel thought he resembled a sleek panther, his gleaming silver eyes locked on his prey, his dark gray uniform hugging the curves of his muscular body.

"Aye....You know me too well, Fin," Haldir drawled with a cat-like purr. Almost reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from the other elf and gave Glorfindel a warm embrace. "But wooing can wait. How are you, mellon-nin? It has been far too long since we have spent time together."

Glorfindel chuckled as he reached up to muss Haldir's pale hair. "Fit as a fiddle am I," he said, settling onto the stone bench next to his friend. "Life is good. My work remains both exciting and challenging, and I finally feel as if Imaldris is truly my home."

Haldir scowled as he ran a hand through his now messy hair. "Must you always do that?" he said with more than a hint of irritation. "I spend hours trying to get my hair just right, and you ruin my entire look with one careless swipe of your hand."

"I do what I can to level the playing field for the rest of us. After all these years, you're still quite the heartbreaker."

"Me? You have had more than your share of conquests. Don't deny it."

"I won't....But I must confess that I have done little pursuing of late. The thought of bedding a random elf has lost its appeal. I should think after centuries of assorted conquests, you would be weary of such games as well, my friend."

Haldir placed a warm hand on Glorfindel's brow. "Either you are delirious with fever or you have truly lost your mind. How can you not find romance appealing? Especially when pursuing an elf as lovely as that one," he said, nodding his head toward the elf squatting under the rosebush.

"Let me assure you I am fine," Glorfindel replied with a tight-lipped grin. "I simply feel my efforts are better spent pursuing marauding orcs than sweet young elves." He looked in the direction of Haldir's gesture, but only saw the taut backside of a furiously digging elf, tossing clods of soil over his shoulder.

A seductive smile spread over Haldir's face, and he shifted his body to lean back against the tree behind him. "Ah....then it has been too long since you have wooed, Fin. Just look at him. The way his legs flex as he kneels, the way he carelessly flings his dark hair over his shoulder, the contented sighs that escape those full lips. He is a vision."

Glorfindel gave Haldir a dubious look and turned back toward the heretofore unidentified elf. Just as he was about to tell Haldir to have at it, the elf sat upright and carefully placed a scraggly weed in an ever-growing pile behind him. Immediately, Glorfindel recognized the all too familiar gesture. Only one elf in Imaldris exhibited an obsessive-compulsive need to make piles.

"That is Erestor!" he hissed with alarm. He dug his fingernails into Haldir's arm, eliciting a yelp of surprise.

"OW!!" the marchwarden cried, rubbing the half-moon marks on his forearm. "I do wish for my arm to remain attached. I might need it for something."

"Choose another elf," stated Glorfindel, flatly. "Not him. He's far too innocent for a rogue like you." Of that, Glorfindel was certain. Erestor had only recently arrived in Imaldris, full of wide-eyed innocence and eagerness. Though he had only limited contact thus far with the new librarian, Erestor's naivety was clear. Large dark eyes, rimmed by ebony lashes made him appear almost childlike, and the thought of Haldir corrupting such a young elf did not sit well with Glorfindel. Not at all.

"Innocent?" Haldir snorted. "I doubt it. One as fair as him has surely tasted love before. He's not bound to anyone.....is he?"

"No, but...."

"He's over the age of majority?"

"Yes, barely. But...."

"He's quite attractive. Even you cannot deny that."

"If you say so... But...."

"But what, Fin? Give me a real reason why I should not pursue him," said Haldir with a frown. He knitted his brows together in frustration. "It's not like I plan to tie him up and force him to spend time with me...unless that's the sort of thing he enjoys," he added with a grin.

Glorfindel was at a loss. He blinked his blue eyes at his friend, hoping a good reason would come to him. After a long moment of silence, he simply shrugged.

"Then it is settled," said Haldir, a note of determination in his voice. "By the time I leave Imaldris, I will have wooed the fair Erestor." He laced his fingers behind his head cockily. "And stop worrying. I promise you he will enjoy every moment of it."

A tiny knot twisted in the pit of Glorfindel's stomach. He did not want Haldir to pursue Erestor, though he did not know precisely why. He turned his eyes back to the elf who was blissfully unaware he had been marked as Haldir's next conquest. A cheerful hum lilted on the breeze as Erestor began to prune his prized rosebushes, placing the clippings in a little pile next to the weeds. His long, dark hair fell forward onto his face, and he swiped at it with a grimy hand, leaving a tiny smudge of dirt on his pink cheek. It wasn't fair, what Haldir was about to do to this innocent elf, but then, it wasn't his place to get involved. Erestor was an adult, despite his delicate appearance. He could handle himself.

With a sigh of resignation, Glorfindel hauled himself to his feet and patted Haldir on his broad shoulder. "Happy wooing, my friend. Let me know how you fare."

Haldir gave him a wicked smile before turning his predatory gaze back to his soon-to-be conquest. "I shall indeed, Fin. You'll be the first to know."

"Wonderful," sighed Glorfindel under his breath as he trudged back up the courtyard steps. He felt strangely disconcerted, but he shrugged his feelings of unease away. "None of my business," he reminded himself.

---

Glorfindel leaned against the doorframe of the library and watched with amusement as Erestor placed some errantly filed books in a neat pile, just as he had done earlier with the weeds. Hearing a faint chuckle, Erestor whipped his head around, surprised that he was being watched. A faint blush colored his cheeks, and he gave Glorfindel a curious stare. Why was the leather-clad warrior studying him so closely?

"Never mind me. I'm just here to choose a book for this evening," said Glorfindel with an easy smile. He covertly assessed the young librarian as he passed by, trying to see exactly what Haldir found so attractive. After a few more hidden glances, the warrior admitted to himself that Erestor did hold a certain charm, with his dark hair and pale skin. Not his type, but he could see why Haldir found him interesting.

Erestor, ever eager to offer assistance, immediately popped out of his chair. "I'd be happy to help you select a book," he chirped, brushing past Glorfindel in a swirl of hair and robes. He stood on his tiptoes and grasped a rather large tome, which he thrust unexpectedly into Glorfindel's hands. "That's one of my favorites. A thrilling tale of the First Alliance," he said brightly, his eyes scanning the rows for another appropriate selection.

Glorfindel fumbled with the large book, nearly dropping it before he placed it onto a nearby table with a heavy thud. "I'm well aware of the details of that war...I fought in it," he replied dryly.

"Oh...I hadn't thought of that. Of course you did. How silly of me," Erestor sputtered in a flurry of words. He quickly scurried over and snatched up the book that Glorfindel had so carelessly discarded, placing it back on the shelf. "Every book has its proper spot. One must not leave them lying around just anywhere. Now, what else might you be interested in reading, since you seem quite familiar already with ancient battles?" he asked as he bounced just a bit on the balls of his feet.

Glorfindel thought for a moment. "What about a nice book of poems? Sonnets, perhaps."

Erestor looked at the golden warrior with undisguised shock. "You read poetry?" he asked incredulously, before his hand flew to his mouth. "That's not what I meant....I....Oh my..."

Glorfindel couldn't help but laugh. "Yes. On occasion, even a warrior as rough and ragged as I engages in poetic musings." His eyes danced with amusement as Erestor colored a delightful shade of red.

The young elf nodded, and sheepishly gestured to a small stack of books on the end of a shelf.

"I hardly know where to begin" said Glorfindel as his eyes traveled over the books. "What would you recommend?"

Erestor chose a small blue book and handed it to him. "Romantic verses written by an elf on the battlefield to his lady awaiting him back home. Very moving and poignant without being too sweet."

He turned to go back to his seat, but accidentally caught the toe of his boot on the edge of a loose tile, sending him tumbling most inelegantly at Glorfindel's feet. Horribly embarrassed at his lack of grace, he ducked his head, hiding his burning cheeks behind a curtain of ebony hair. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this clumsy," he mumbled.

Glorfindel tucked the book under his arm and carefully helped the younger elf to his feet. "No need to apologize, Erestor. But do tell...What has you in such a state? Never have I seen you so completely rattled." It was true. Normally, Erestor was the picture of carefully arranged neatness, but today he was a bundle of nerves, sputtering, babbling and tripping over his own two feet. Not at all his usual composed self.

A jubilant smile graced the young elf's face. "I have a date," he bubbled excitedly. "A date with a handsome Galadhrim. He asked me to dine with him in his rooms...and I haven't a clue as to what I shall wear." Dreamily, he floated back to his seat, lost in a haze of giddy anticipation.

The enthusiasm in the young elf's voice hit Glorfindel like a punch in the gut. He winced visibly, as he thought about Haldir's plans for an evening of seduction. Poor Erestor didn't stand a chance. For a moment, he thought about warning the young elf. Perhaps with some concerted effort on his part, he could convince him not to go. Another glance at the faraway look in Erestor's eyes, convinced the warrior that it would be futile. No, the wheels of Haldir's game were already in motion. Who was he to try to stop them from turning? Besides, Erestor might actually enjoy dining with the handsome Marchwarden.

"Have a good time on your date, Erestor," he called as he closed the library door behind him.

---

A few hours and glasses of wine later, Glorfindel rose from his leather chair in front of the fireplace and stretched tall. The book that Erestor had recommended lay nearly finished on a side table, next to his empty wine glass. Between the wine, the poetry and the balmy spring breeze wafting in through his open window, Glorfindel felt relaxed and content.....and hungry. He patted his rumbling tummy. Surely the cooks had a few scraps of leftovers hidden in the kitchen. He, being a master tracker, would ferret them out in no time. Smiling to himself, he opened the door to his private chambers and stepped out into the hallway....and immediately collided with a frantic Erestor. He grasped both of the elf's shoulders to steady himself, and instantly noticed the tears on his flushed cheeks. Alarmed, he asked, "Erestor? What happened?"

Erestor avoided his questioning gaze and tried to wrench himself free of the strong hands that held him.

Before the younger elf could squirm away and resume his flight, Glorfindel tightened his grip. "Look at me," he commanded quietly.

Erestor gazed up at him balefully, fresh tears glistening in his brimming eyes. "It's nothing," he whispered. "I only need to return to my rooms."

"Nonsense. Clearly you are upset. Tell me what is wrong."

Erestor's eyes dropped, and he fought to keep his composure. "I do not wish to discuss it."

It was then that Glorfindel noticed Erestor's tunic. It was on inside out. He sighed and pulled the young elf into an embrace. "It was Haldir, wasn't it? What has he done now?"

Tears flowed anew from the young elf's reddened eyes, and he buried his face in the strong shoulder in front of him. "He...He called me Ernest."

Glorfindel blinked. "He did what?"

The young elf snuffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "He...he couldn't remember that my name was Erestor. He called me Ernest. I meant nothing to him." Sobs racked through his body, causing his slender shoulders to shake.

Glorfindel held him closer, stroking his long dark hair, and silently cursed himself. Why hadn't he tried harder to stop Haldir from pursuing this sweet young elf? "What did he do to you? Did you let him...."

Erestor looked up at the warrior with a horrified expression. "Nay! He offered to rub my shoulders. They were sore from gardening...That's when he called me Ernest."

"Shhhh...I meant no offense," said Glorfindel in a soothing tone. A hint of a smile graced his lips, and he shook his head... Ernest? Compared to the things that could have happened, being called Ernest didn't seem so bad. "Tis well that things did not progress any farther. No harm has been done."

The young elf began sobbing anew, and Glorfindel was bewildered. He could stand down a legion of orcs with nary a flinch, but a sobbing elfling left him confused. What to do? "Why don't you come in and have a glass of wine. It will calm your nerves and help you sleep," he heard himself saying.

Gently, he led Erestor to his favorite chair and bade him sit, but the young elf clung to him, still weeping softly. With a faint sigh, Glorfindel sat in the chair and pulled Erestor to sit next to him. "Sip this," he said, holding a glass of the ruby wine to Erestor's lips.

The young elf drank from the proffered glass, and then curled his feet under him, resting his head on Glorfindel's broad chest. "Would it be alright if I stayed here tonight? Like this?" he asked plaintively.

Glorfindel's tummy rumbled in protest, but he rubbed it into submission. "Of course you can, Pen-neth. Go to sleep. Everything will be better on the morrow," he said, placing a chaste kiss on Erestor's forehead.

---

Glorfindel awoke with a start. Someone was pounding on the door. He tried in vain to rise from his spot on the chair, but his legs refused to cooperate. "I'm far too old to be sleeping in chairs," he muttered as he struggled to his feet. He cast a glance at Erestor, who lay curled in a ball on the rug next to the fireplace. Glorfindel didn't know when he had moved, but he didn't blame him. Chairs were meant for sitting, not sleeping, a fact to which his stiff legs attested. He ambled to the door, looking more like an old man than a fabled balrog slayer.

"Fin! Open up!" hissed a voice on the other side.

"It's late, Haldir. What do you want?"

Haldir burst into the room, shoving his way past the blonde warrior. "We were in the middle of our date, and he got up and ran out! I need you to help me find him..." he said in a near frenzy. Just then, he spotted the young one asleep on the floor. He gaped at him for a stunned moment, then turned back to his friend.

"He's here?! What in Arda is he doing here?" he barked in surprise.

"Shhhh! Don't wake him. It took me too long to get him to sleep, and I'll not let you rouse him," said Glorfindel, as he herded Haldir back out into the hallway.

"But he's my date..," Haldir responded, snaking his head around the blonde warrior to steal another glance at Erestor.

"Yes, and you treated him callously," Glorfindel interrupted with a frown. "Really, Haldir. You should have at least remembered his name. It's Erestor, not Ernest."

Haldir flushed hotly. "I cannot be expected to remember everything. I remembered the wine. I remembered his name began with an E..."

"Choose another to seduce, Haldir. He's too young and innocent to handle a handsome cad such as you."

"But.."

"But nothing," Glorfindel stated firmly. "I should have been more adamant when you targeted him earlier, and now I regret that I remained silent. You are my friend, but I must insist that you find another elf on which to work your charms. Erestor is off-limits." Glorfindel stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. He meant business.

Haldir chanced one last look at Erestor. "Please just tell him I came by to apologize. I would like to make it up to him at dinner tomorrow night. Will you at least allow him to decide if he would like to dine with me?" His gray eyes pleaded with Glorfindel for one last chance.

Glorfindel studied Haldir's face for a moment. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that a crouching tiger lay in wait, hiding behind his innocuous expression. Still, Haldir had a point. Erestor did deserve the right to choose his own dinner companions. The warrior gave a curt nod. "Very well. I shall relay your apology and invitation."

Haldir sighed with relief. "Hannon lle, old friend. Hope remains alive," he said, with a squeeze to Glorfindel's shoulder.

As he watched his friend walk back down the hallway, Glorfindel slowly shook his head. Truly, his time at Imaldris had changed him. No longer did those games of seduction hold any allure.

"Who was that?" asked Erestor from his spot on the floor.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to wake you. 'Twas Haldir. He has been searching for you in an attempt to apologize for his grievous error," replied Glorfindel as he made his way back to the chair.

The young elf sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees like a frightened elfling. "He came to apologize to me?" Erestor's voice was barely a whisper.

"Aye...and to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. You do not have to accept the invitation if you do not wish."

Erestor seemed dazed. Absently, one of his hands began picking at the fuzz balls on the rug, and placing the tufts of fiber in a little pile. The familiar action made Glorfindel smile.

"You do that without even thinking about it, don't you?"

The young elf stopped mid-pick and blushed faintly. "Oh...I...yes, I suppose I do." He folded his hands in his lap and dropped his eyes.

Glorfindel reached over and stroked the young elf's dark hair affectionately. "I find it endearing. Pick all you want. The rug would be better suited in the rubbish bin anyway."

Erestor looked up at him, his eyes full of questions. "What should I do?" he asked softly.

Oh, how Glorfindel wanted to tell Erestor to refuse the invitation. He so wished to tell him to stay away from Haldir, to wait to find an elf who would appreciate him for the gentle soul he truly was. Instead, he said, "I cannot make that choice for you. Follow your heart. It shall not mislead you."

Silently, the young elf nodded and rose to leave. "Hannon lle for your hospitality and advice, Lord Glorfindel. Both are much appreciated." Without another word, he padded across the room, closing the door behind him as he left.

The warrior sank back into his chair and heaved a sigh. His eyes fell on the fuzzy pile of tufts left behind by the worried elf. He scooped them up carefully into his palm, and walked to the window, where he released them all with a wave of his hand. Smiling, he watched as they slowly drifted away on the warm night breeze.

---

Erestor lay awake in his bed, reflecting on the events of the evening. To his surprise, it was not only the handsome marchwarden who consumed his thoughts, but also the glorious balrog slayer who danced through his waking dreams. He remembered how Glorfindel had easily and unquestioningly embraced him. Nobody else had ever made him feel so safe and comfortable.

He tossed fitfully over onto his side. Did he dare go to dinner with Haldir after the disaster that was their first date? Surely that would be more productive than pining away for an ancient warrior who thought him to be little more than a petulant elfling. A difficult choice lay before him, and he had not a whit of a clue how to make it.

---

A fine sheen of sweat covered Glorfindel's toned body when he awoke. He groaned and rolled over on his back, trying to ignore the hard need between his legs. All night long, he had dreamt of Erestor: kissing him, holding him, touching him in wildly inappropriate ways. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to will away the dark haired vision that floated in front of his eyes. Something about the sweet elf had stirred a longing in him that he had assumed was buried forever.

He raked an arm across his sweaty brow and sat upright, blinking as the bright rays of Arien filtered through the curtains. Foolishness. He was far too old to give into silly infatuations. Erestor clearly was taken with Haldir. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the covers aside and rose, his eyes falling inadvertently on the book of poems that Erestor had chosen for him. It had to go back to the library this morning. He traced the fine leather binding with his finger. A simple enough task. He would march in, place the book on the top of Erestor's neat pile, and beat a hasty retreat. Deep in the pit of his stomach, a thread of worry began to tie itself into a knot. Somehow he knew it would not be that easy.

---

Erestor sat at the long library table, idly stacking and re-stacking the books that needed to be cataloged. Something about the process of arranging things gave him comfort. After last night, he needed comfort. His head still felt woozy, both from the wine and the agonizing decision that lay before him. For just a moment, he allowed himself to replay a scene from the previous evening...one where he sat nestled in the leather chair, wrapped in Glorfindel's embrace, crying over Haldir. He dropped his swimming head into his hands with a muffled sigh. Which was worse: dining with a handsome soldier who probably considered him to be little more than a dalliance, or spending the evening alone, dreaming of a golden warrior who definitely considered him a sniveling child?

---

Glorfindel paused in the doorway to the library, a rush of concern flooding his senses when he saw Erestor hunched over the table. "He still weeps over Haldir," thought the warrior to himself. He previously had scheduled a sparring match with one of his captains for this morning, leaving him precious little time to linger in the library...but the sight of Erestor so distressed tugged at his heart.

The scrape of boots on the tile floor alerted Erestor that he was not alone. His head jerked up to see an approaching Glorfindel, clad from head to toe in black leather, a silver and mithril sword strapped to his waist. The young elf froze, his eyes locked on what surely must be a vision sent by Elbereth herself.... blonde hair hanging in a tight braid down his back, eyes the color of a summer sky, hands that were strong yet gentle. Absently he wondered how those hands would feel on his skin. Would they be rough and calloused from long days of sword fighting, or would they be tender and soft as they stroked over his body?

"...Erestor?"

The young elf snapped back to reality with a jolt. "Huh? Oh...I mean Yes, Lord Glorfindel?"

The warrior smiled indulgently and placed the book of poetry atop Erestor's orderly pile. "Your recommendation was excellent. I found the poetry to be just as you said, inspiring and moving."

Erestor barely nodded in response. He didn't trust himself to speak at the moment, as he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that anything he uttered would turn out to be absolute inanity in the presence of someone so fair.

Glorfindel paused for a moment as if he were going to say something else, but then turned and made his way out the door. "Have a pleasant day, my young friend," he said as he left.

The young elf turned in his chair to watch him leave when something caught his attention. On the floor next to the massive wooden table lay a black leather glove, just like the ones Glorfindel wore when he sparred in the practice ring. Gingerly, Erestor plucked it from the tile and brought it to his nose, inhaling the earthy scent of the tanned leather. It smelled of Glorfindel....masculine and tough, yet the leather itself was as soft as butter when he brushed it against his lips. But, alas, the glove was not his to keep. The object of his newly-discovered lust would need it soon. He tucked the glove into a pocket on his tunic, and quickly made his way to the practice fields.

---

"Excellent, Valandhil! You anticipated my attack perfectly," commented Glorfindel. He circled the young captain slowly, his mind sorting through various lunge and parry combinations. Without warning, he spun, aiming his broadsword at the shoulder of his opponent, catching him off-guard and knocking the other's sword to the ground with a clatter.

"Aye...but one good defensive stand is not enough to defeat you, Lord Glorfindel," replied Valandhil, with obvious admiration. "I shall never be as skilled at swordplay as you."

"Live a few more millennia and you shall be besting me regularly. Age and experience are the best teachers." Glorfindel twirled his sword in his hands as he grinned at Valandhil.

"Perhaps, but I still have much to learn from you." The captain bent to pick up his dropped sword and moved back to the center of the sparring ring.

"That you do. And I shall teach you all I know." The scuffle of feet could be heard behind him, and Glorfindel glanced away from his captain to see an out-of-breath Erestor come racing down from the main house. What on Arda was the young librarian doing here, of all places? "Erestor?" he asked, puzzled. "You do know where you are...."

The young elf smiled as he ran up beside him. "Aye. I only came to deliver this." He reached into his pocket and produced the wayward glove. "You dropped it back in the library."

"Ah! I had wondered what had become of that. Hannon lle for bringing it all the way out here to me, Erestor. That was very thoughtful of you."

The young elf beamed at Glorfindel. "It was nothing. I needed the fresh air." As he turned to leave, he added, "There is another book of poetry that Lindir returned this morning. I shall hold it for you if you would like to read it. You may come by later and pick it up." With a quick wave, he began the long walk back to the library.

"Poetry?" questioned Valandhil with a smirk. "Since when does the mighty balrog slayer read poetry?" He glanced over at Glorfindel, who was completely distracted by watching Erestor climb the hill back to the Last Homely House. A nudge to his ribs jarred the blonde out of his musings.

"Tis nothing. I have developed an interest in it as of late."

Valandhil snickered. "You have developed an interest in a librarian as of late."

Glorfindel tore his eyes away from Erestor's retreating form to glower at his captain. "It is poetry that interests me and nothing more."

"Whatever you say...." He shrugged and bit back a smile. He knew an infatuation when he saw one. Lord Glorfindel was smitten.

---

Later that afternoon, a weary Glorfindel made his way to the library, trying to convince himself was there only to retrieve the promised volume of poetry. As soon as he spotted Erestor, diligently assembling newly returned books into a carefully arranged stack, he knew he was kidding himself. He was there to see Erestor.

"Is that a new pile, or are you simply rearranging the old one?" he teased, trying to sound casual.

The young elf graced him with a brilliant smile. "Lord Glorfindel! I have been waiting for you," he cried, hopping up from his seat and darting around the end of the table. His hand quickly found the book of poetry, and he held it out to the blonde warrior. "I know you will enjoy this....It's also one of my favorites."

Glorfindel smiled affectionately as he took the proffered book. "I'm sure I will." He glanced around at the orderly stacks of books on the table in front of him. "Tell me something, Erestor. What is it about the library that brings you such joy?"

Erestor appeared befuddled for a moment, but recovered his composure quickly. "Oh...I think it is the fact that everything has a particular and unique place. A certain comfort can be found in order, and I like the predictability of the library. Even if all of Arda is thrown into chaos, and my life is a mess, I know that when I come here, everything will be in its proper spot."

The warrior cocked his head and grinned. "I had never considered that. Interesting."

Dark eyes swept over the seasoned warrior with curiosity. "May I ask you a question as well?"

"Certainly. I have no secrets. Ask me what you will."

"Why do you always wear leather?"

A smile played on Glorfindel's lips. He placed the book back down on the table and stepped close to the young librarian. "Leather is strong. It protects me from being accidentally cut by an errant swing of a blade. Leather can also be soft. I like the way it feels against my skin." As he spoke, he reached out and placed a gloved hand on Erestor's cheek, stroking it with a feathery touch. "How does that feel?" he asked softly.

The young elf's mouth went completely dry. "Incredible," he squeaked, his voice breaking ever so slightly. He nervously took a step backward, but before he even realized what was happening, he felt the warrior behind him, sliding a gloved hand under his tunic, over his firm tummy.

"Now you know why I love leather," purred Glorfindel.

Hot breath tickled Erestor's ear. He leaned back heavily against Glorfindel's chest, fearing his knees would buckle as the gloved hand continued to investigate his torso. Breathing became a chore. Speaking was unthinkable. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a ragged gasp, as leather brushed over one of his sensitive nipples. His mind began to race. Tiny beads of sweat slowly trickled down his forehead. When did it become so stuffy in here?

But without warning, Glorfindel abruptly ended his exploration of Erestor's lithe body. He stepped away, picked up his book and left the room without another word, leaving a bewildered librarian in his wake.

Erestor sank heavily into a nearby chair, still trying to grasp what had exactly transpired. Glorfindel's touch had been magical. His head still reeled from it. He raised a trembling hand to wipe at his damp brow. No doubt about it. One stroke of a gloved hand had effectively erased all thoughts of Haldir.

---

"Of all the stupid, insensitive, obtuse things to do..." grumbled Glorfindel to himself. A steady stream of colorful curse words and remarks rolled under his breath as he purposefully marched back to his room. He KNEW he shouldn't have gone to the library. One look at Erestor, and the feral, reckless nature that he had tried so hard to bury had clawed its way to the surface once more. How easily he had slipped into his former self. Before he had even realized what he was doing, his hand was raking over young Erestor's abdomen in a highly improper manner. "I am no better than Haldir. Worse, in fact. At least Haldir knows what he is and embraces it. I have been in denial."

Angrily, he flung open the door to his chambers and tossed the book on the table before him. "I will not toy with Erestor's affections," he stated aloud to himself. "On the morrow, I shall apologize and see him no more."

---

"What is going on?" asked Valandhil. Glorfindel had been abnormally quiet all throughout dinner. Normally, he held court, gracing anyone within earshot with a wildly exaggerated tale of one of his battles. Tonight, however, he had barely said a word.

The blonde warrior kept his eyes on his half-eaten food, picking at a carrot with his fork. "I have done something regrettable, Valandhil. This afternoon, I found myself groping Erestor in the library."

Valandhil chuckled. "And the regrettable thing about that is what? That you had no privacy to finish the act?"

The warrior locked a fiery glare on his friend. "I toyed with him! I used that young elf to satisfy my own base desire."

"By touching him? I hardly think a caress qualifies as using someone. Besides, it is clear that you have feelings for him."

Shock registered on Glorfindel's face. "What did you just say?"

"You care for him. I noticed it earlier on the practice fields. The spark in your eyes gave you away."

"Aiya...I suppose I do," admitted Glorfindel reluctantly. He winced and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "But it is for naught. He desires Haldir. In fact, they were to have another date tonight. I do not see him here, so he must have accepted Haldir's invitation."

Valandhil reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, mellon. Is there anything I can do?"

Glorfindel gave him a half-hearted smile. "Nay, but thank you for offering. I think I shall return to my chambers and go to bed early."

---

As the seneschal made his way back to his rooms, two bundles of perpetual energy appeared in his path.

"Unka Glorfy!" the twins cried simultaneously, both raising their chubby arms up to him.

"What are you two doing roaming the hallways? Where is your Ada and Nana?" asked Glorfindel, squatting to wrap the elflings into a big hug.

"They're eating dinner," said Elrohir, his fingers tugging at the warrior's long braid.

"And we got the mean babysitter," pouted Elladan. "She hates us. We want to stay with you, Unka."

Glorfindel chuckled and stood up, balancing one elfling on each hip. "Does she even know you are missing?"

Elrohir leaned closer, his eyes dancing with mischief, and whispered, "We sneaked out. She's asleep on the sofa. Please don't make us go back. Please, Unka," he begged.

By this time, Elladan had completely untied Glorfindel's braid, and began combing his tiny fingers through the golden strands, mesmerized.

"Very well," he said, placing a kiss on each little forehead. "But what shall we do to pass the time?"

"Story!" they both cried, excitedly. "We want a story!"

Glorfindel thought for a minute. None of the stories he usually told were even remotely appropriate for children. He had no choice but to head for the library and try to find a book suitable for elflings. Thank the heavens, Erestor would not be there.

---

Work always made him feel better, so why wasn't it helping tonight? Erestor picked up another book and climbed carefully up the ladder to place it on the top shelf. After the encounter with Glorfindel earlier, he had decided it best to not dine with Haldir. He sighed forlornly and stretched up on his toes to reshelf the book he held.

All at once the library doors flew open, and in burst the twins, squealing with excitement.

"I get to choose the book!" yelled Elladan as he charged headlong toward the brightly colored children's section.

"No fair! You chose it last time," pouted Elrohir, running after his twin.

The sudden noise startled Erestor, who whirled around and lost his footing on the ladder. He dropped the book he meant to shelve, his hands clutching desperately at the ladder, which had begun to sway precariously. He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing that he could not stop his backward momentum. "Please don't let me fall!" he cried, as his foot slid off the rung. He tumbled backwards through the air, only to land in a pair of strong arms.

"Don't fret. I have you."

Stunned, Erestor popped open his eyes to see a glorious vision peering down at him. His heart beat wildly in his chest. For a moment, all he could do was breathe, and to be honest, even that was difficult.

"Are you alright?" asked Glorfindel, gazing at the frightened elf nestled so snugly in his arms. Those dark eyes that stared up at him tugged at his very soul. An elf could get lost in those depths and never find his way out, he thought to himself.

"Hannon lle...I don't know what I would have done if you had not been here to catch me," said Erestor shyly. His breath caught in his chest as he stared at Glorfindel, his blond hair tumbling in waves down his back, softening his normally hard features. Never had he looked more stunning.

"But I was here," replied Glorfindel with a smile. "The question is, what are you doing here? I thought you had accepted Haldir's invitation to dinner." Almost reluctantly, he set Erestor on his feet, but not before tucking a stray lock of ebony hair behind one delicate ear.

"No," said Erestor, unable to tear his eyes away. "It wouldn't have been right to dine with Haldir when my thoughts are of another elf."

Glorfindel inched closer him, a spark of hope flaring brightly in his chest. His face hovered just inches away from Erestor's. "And which elf is that?" he breathed against Erestor's lips, raising a hand to cup the young elf's chin.

Erestor shivered and hid behind his eyelids. "You." There. It had been said. No taking it back now. A butterfly the size of a Nazgul flitted in Erestor's tummy. Elbereth, what had he just done?

Fingers slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into the softest of kisses. Warm lips brushed over his, once...twice. A sleek tongue darted out, tracing the seam of his own lips, and he parted them, allowing the velvet warmth to gently probe his mouth. Erestor sighed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Glorfindel and melting against his solid chest. With each sweet roll of the blonde's silky tongue, Erestor felt a knife prick of desire stabbing at his groin. The room began to spin. He clung desperately to the strong arms that wrapped around him, fearing his knees would buckle at any moment.

"Elladan! Elrohir!" called a frantic female voice. The library doors swung open again, and a near-crazed babysitter blew into the room. Before the elflings could move so much as a muscle, she had each of them by a tiny, pointed ear. "How many times have I told you two to not leave your chambers without telling me? You had me worried sick!"

Erestor blushed furiously and tried to pull away from the embrace, but Glorfindel grabbed his hand. "Shhh...Do not move. Stay here, and I will handle this," he panted, placing a soft kiss to the inside of Erestor's wrist.

Glorfindel ran a hand through his hair and stepped from around the book case. "Ah, there was no need for worry. The young ones found me in the hallway and demanded a story," he said with a smile. "Who am I to refuse such a sweet request?"

The overwhelmed babysitter pulled the now whimpering elflings into her arms and gave Glorfindel a tight-lipped smile. "Very well....But next time, please inform me where you are planning to take them."

"Next time don't fall asleep," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Her eyes narrowed into tiny dark slits, and Glorfindel immediately knew why the twins disliked her.

"Nooooo! Please don't let her take us, Unka," begged Elrohir, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

Glorfindel smiled indulgently and placed a book in his plump little arms. "If you go with your babysitter and behave like proper lads, I will stop by later and read a you bedtime story."

"Promise?" snuffled Elladan.

He leaned in and placed a kiss on his rosy cheek. "I promise. Now, be sweet for her."

The babysitter, arms full of wiggling elflings, wobbled out the door and down the hallway, making a mental note to lock the door to the chamber doors the next time she needed a nap.

Glorfindel grinned and shook his head. He had no doubt the poor girl would earn every penny Elrond paid her....and then some. Quietly, he closed the massive wooden door, turning the key in the lock, just in case another wayward soul decided to visit.

He took a moment to compose himself, smoothing his hair with a nervous hand and taking a deep breath. Erestor had admitted that he had feelings for him. Now it was his turn to do the same.

As he rounded the tall bookshelf, his eyes fell on Erestor, looking terribly small and uncertain. Large dark eyes met his, and Glorfindel sensed apprehension. He smiled at the young elf, hoping that would reassure him.

It didn't. Erestor dropped his head shyly, digging his toe in the seam of the raised tile floor, trying to hide behind his long hair.

Glorfindel had none of it. He tucked his fingers under the young elf's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he said with quiet authority.

Erestor swallowed hard, but did not avert his liquid eyes.

Glorfindel's fingers traced the soft edges of Erestor's jaw, causing a fine tremor to shimmy up the young elf's spine. Glorfindel thought it to be the most endearing thing he had ever seen. He smiled, eyes full of caring and affection. "I care for you, Erestor. More than I have cared for any elf in a very long time. Nothing would please me more than to dine with you tomorrow evening. Would you accept my invitation?"

Erestor had never been more stunned....or happy. His eyes danced with unbridled joy. "Aye. It would be an honor to dine with you, Lord Glorfindel," he whispered in awe.

Glorfindel chuckled. "Just Glorfindel. Lord is a title reserved for rulers and ambassadors. I am simply an elf who longs to know you better."

A pretty blush settled on Erestor's pale cheeks. "I accept your invitation, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel stroked Erestor's cheek affectionately. "Then it is a date. Come to my chambers at 7 pm, and I will have everything prepared."

Just as he turned to go, Erestor placed a hand on his bicep, turning him back to face him. "Wait," he said.

Carefully, he reached up, smoothing Glorfindel's unruly hair back into place, and adjusting his crumpled shirt collar. "There. Much better." Erestor blinked his dark eyes at Glorfindel, who grinned with amusement.

"I suppose I should get used to being straightened and adjusted, shouldn't I?"

Erestor gave him a lopsided grin. "It's what I do...but you'll find out soon enough, once you get to know me."

"Aye. That I will. I can imagine a better way to spend my time."


The End