Erestor stayed longer than that. He pulled up a chair and sat at his Lord's bedside, holding Elrond's hand and singing that old lullaby until the half-Elf finally found rest. And then Erestor sat there, silently adoring the beautiful, wonderful, dark-haired, grey-eyed Lord until the sun rose.
That was when he regretfully stood, easing the stiff joints and muscles to bank up the fire and pull open the curtains and shutters and leave his Lord's chambers to begin the day.
He wandered the halls aimlessly a bit, distracted at the not unwelcome change in routine from the night before until he finally remembered some of the other events that had passed in the Hall of Fire.
He smiled a small, sneaky smile to himself and passed by both Lindir's and Glorfindel's rooms. Both chambers were empty.
"Those two," he muttered to himself, trekking outside and through the armory into the stables where he greeted the early morning stable hands and the sentries arriving from night watch.
He proceeded down the length of stalls until he came to a familiar ladder. Shaking his head, he hiked up his dark robes and climbed up to his foster son's 'secret' hideout.
Lindir had come here as far back as he could remember, and Erestor only intruded on the most desperate of occasions, usually preferring to leave the smart, young Elf to his own devices as he believed children could work things out on their own quite well.
It had actually been many centuries since he'd journeyed to this familiar place, but something like a father's intuition guided him and he was unsurprised to peer around the tall piles of hay to find two naked Elves wrapped in a crimson cloak with straw in their hair and pale and gold limbs wound about each other, glowing gold and silver in the shaft of sunlight that streamed in through an open eastward window.
Erestor chased away the tender smile on his face, fitting a serious frown in place as he stepped within and crossed his arms and cleared his throat irritably.
Glorfindel started, and his sky blue eyes blinked a moment until they focused on the enemy.
Lindir just grunted and pulled him closer.
Erestor glared.
Glorfindel gently shook the younger Elf and Lindir finally turned toward him, smiling lazily. For but a moment Glorfindel was caught in the beauty of that expression, but then reality rapped him upside the head and he nodded to the parting in the hay bales. Lindir turned and gazed unseeing for a moment with the bright sun in his eyes, but then he recognized the stern form standing over them. "I... We..."
"Don't speak," Erestor told them in a guttural snarl. "If you must insist on giving yourself over to your emotions, I suggest you do so in the privacy of your rooms rather than in the barn, like common humans. Glorfindel, if you hurt my son, I shall hunt you down and make you regret it."
He turned to leave. He faced away as he whispered, "You look beautiful together. I wish you all the happiness in the world, both in this one and the next."
Lindir sprang up and tackled Erestor with a whole-hearted hug. "I love you, too! You stuffy old grump!"
Erestor pushed him away and brushed off the straw clinging to his velvety robes. "Get dressed Lindir. I expect to see you both at breakfast, and looking far more presentable." He grumbled all the way down the ladder. Lindir followed, leaning over the railing to shout, "I love you dad! Thank you!"
"LINDIR!" Erestor admonished with a shocked bellow as several Elves within the stables looked up to see the naked minstrel waving enthusiastically at Elrond's Chief Counselor. "Get dressed NOW!"
Lindir laughed and disappeared back into his little corner where Glorfindel was still sitting in the hay, smiling brilliantly at him. Lindir dropped to his knees and looked him in the eye, an expression of awe on his young face.
"What is it, Lindir?"
"That is the first time he ever called me 'son.'"
Elrond woke to the sound of a closing door. The familiar scent of mallorn blossoms clung to the air. "Erestor?" The Lord threw back the covers and rolled out of bed to run through the room and to his door, silently unlocking it and peering out just a bit to see the dark form passing away down the hall. Elrond quietly closed the door, wondering why Erestor always insisted on locking it. He leaned wearily against the white wood, the plain white nightgown falling to his ankles, his tangled black hair falling before his face. "Is it true what they say?" he asked of himself.
How many times had Erestor done this for him? Kept him safe and warm and fed? How many times had he insisted on tasting foreign food before his Lord, or walking ahead of him in dark foreign cities? How often had Erestor trailed him purposelessly in the corridors and sat silently beside him on the library floor in some vain search for an ancient fairytale? Could he count the number of chess matches in which Erestor watched his opponent as often as the game or the dinners at which Erestor did not eat at all, but only sat at the table content to be beside his Lord? Was there any limit to the counselor's attentions? Had he not avoided Elrond decades after his wedding and looked wonderingly at his three children? Had he not accepted those children practically as his own, helping to raise and guide and love them? How often had Erestor calmly tended Elrond's hair or helped him don some ceremonial garment so complex he needed assistance? How many times had Erestor done these things for him?
Could there be any doubt?
"Of course it's true," he wondered out loud. "Of course it's true."
When Glorfindel and Lindir sat down to breakfast, they couldn't help but notice Haldir's wolfish grin.
Glorfindel stared suspiciously at his old friend. "What?"
"Oh nothing," Haldir said innocently. "I've been listening to the gossip again, that's all."
"And what has the grapevine of Imladris told you, my friend?" Lindir questioned him.
"Well, you'll never believe what they're saying happened in the stables last night."
Glorfindel and Lindir looked askance at each other. Lindir flushed a brilliant pink and Glorfindel attempted to hide his giggles behind his hand. Failing that, he bowed his head and his shaking shoulders betrayed his laughter.
Several sentries - whispering behind their hands -passed by, pointing at the pair and smiling. Lindir swatted Glorfindel.
The captain's head rose up and his laughs burst out full-force. "I'm sorry, luv! I can't help it!"
Lindir bowed his head, as if attempting to sink into his seat. The minstrel barely noticed Arwen sit herself beside him until she patted him affectionately on the head. "You are lucky," she whispered. And when Lindir thought that she was very right, he was able to laugh as well.
"I shall write a song about last night, what do you say, Glorfindel?"
"You shall make a roll in the hay sound like a romantic tryst! Excellent!"
The halls were filled with much laughter and rejoicing that morning.
Erestor wandered through the kitchens, his mind and heart too full to concentrate on work. He snagged an apple and made his way to the little table in the rear where the dark shadows kindly masked him from view. For a while he remained in relative peace with the untouched apple beside him until he felt someone approaching.
He was not surprised when Elrond sat across from him, two plates of breakfast in hand. "You won't have eaten," the half-Elf told him, placing the food there before him, along with a quickly fetched glass of juice. "You must eat, Erestor."
Erestor said nothing, calmly taking up a fork and idly poking about the food, nibbling around the edges.
"Erestor."
He took a bite.
"Erestor, look at me."
The fork clanged harshly as Erestor let it fall against the plate, jerking his head up to regard his Lord with dull brown eyes.
"I wanted to thank you for staying with me."
"Of course, my Lord."
"Erestor. We've known each other for millennia. You've been my dearest friend for well over four thousand years. Isn't it time you called me by my name?"
Erestor didn't seem to know what to make of that.
"Besides. I never wanted to be a Lord. You know that."
Erestor shrugged.
Elrond laughed and reached across the table.
Erestor froze.
"What is this?" the Lord asked, pulling a length of straw from Erestor's dark hair.
At this, the counselor finally allowed himself a small smile. "You will never guess where and how attired I found Lindir and Glorfindel this morning."
"Oh?"
"They slept the night in the stable loft, in nothing but that red cloak Glorfindel seems so proud of."
Elrond's jaw dropped. "Those two?! I never..." He looked sharply up at Erestor. "And you are okay with this?"
The dark head nodded. "Love happens," he said with a helpless shrug.
"Indeed," Elrond marveled.
Meandering down the hall with Erestor a dark shadow behind him, Elrond halted at the sight of Glorfindel and Lindir approaching. "My Captain and my Minstrel!" he sung out, his arms opening wide.
Glorfindel and Lindir laughed as their Lord caught them up in a tight embrace. "An eternity of happiness and my blessing upon you both," he promised them.
Erestor watched as Elrond teased and congratulated the two lovers until Glorfindel held up a hand. "Please! Cease! Else we shall be standing here all day!"
"But I want to hear all about how you managed to woo our dear bard!"
"Poorly," Lindir supplied. "But it mattered not, seeing as I loved him anyway."
They all laughed, but for Glorfindel who feigned a hurt look.
Lindir shook his head and leaned in close to the gold Elf. "Don't be silly," he whispered. "Nothing could have been more romantic."
Glorfindel then shook his head. "No, it really was awful; I've no sense of language when it comes to you. All thought leaves my head."
Erestor rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.
The other three laughed at the counselor until Glorfindel suddenly turned to his Lord with a serious expression. "Elrond, may we marry?"
Elrond turned away, thinking as he stared off into space. "It is rather unconventional," he mused.
Lindir was staring with open-mouthed shock at Glorfindel. Seeing this, the captain asked, "Unless you don't want to?"
"You would marry me?" Lindir asked breathlessly.
"Well, yes," Glorfindel said simply, "else I wouldn't have asked."
Ignoring this exchange, Elrond then replied, "I don't see why not. A wedding it is then!"
"Wait a minute!" Glorfindel begged. He walked straight up to Erestor, who had remained a little apart. "Counselor Erestor. May I have your blessing to marry your son?"
Erestor regarded him coldly, managing to look down upon him, even though he was a full head shorter. Glorfindel idly wondered how he always managed to do that. "You do not ask my permission?"
"No, for I do not need it. But I should like to have your blessing just the same."
"Then you have it," Erestor told him.
Glorfindel buried the Elf in a hug and squeezed tightly. "Thank you, my friend."
"Glorfindel, get off!" Glorfindel stepped back, smiling smugly. Erestor growled, "That's twice I've been assaulted today! No more!" He turned and marched off.
"I love you dad!" Lindir called out after him.
"Yeah! Thanks pops!" Glorfindel added.
Erestor made a rude gesture and continued on.
"Oh dear, this certainly will be something else," Elrond murmured, shaking his head.
The early evening sun found Glorfindel and Lindir slowly walking the gardens, hand in hand. "It is much warmer today!" Lindir stated happily after humming a little song. "Oh and look!" He ran ahead to fall to his knees and push away the dead debris of the past autumn revealing a clump of green shoots pushing their way out of the rich, brown earth. "Buttercups!" he exclaimed. "They're always first! Oh, spring is truly upon us then!" When Glorfindel said nothing, Lindir turned to look.
The gold Elf had knelt beside him and smiled distantly, but the look in his eyes was mournful.
"What is the matter?"
"As spring arrives, Haldir leaves. I did not realize how much I missed him until he showed up. And I had not thought of his departure, so close we are; it was as if we'd never been parted."
"He was with you in Gondolin?"
"Yes."
Lindir asked the question that had been burning in his mind for many weeks. "Does Haldir love you?"
Blue eyes flashed up at him, surprised. Glorfindel shrugged and turned to sit on the cold ground. Lindir mirrored him and they sat there in the brown and grey garden, bright splotches of green and gold from their robes. Glorfindel's voice was rich and deep and sad. "Aye. He loved me once. But that was long ago, and he had led me to believe the feelings long faded. But perhaps not." Glorfindel sighed wearily. "I believe it is true that we do not choose who we love, for I would have chosen him. But he was as a brother to me. I am only thankful that he still is."
Lindir nodded thoughtfully. "You must talk to him before he leaves."
"Yes. I suppose I must."
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