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lotr_sesaWritten for Keiliss
The Request:
Fic, fanart or either?: Prefer fiction but either is fine.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Erestor/Glorfindel OR Maglor/elf of choice OR Caranthir/Erestor OR whoever comes knocking on the window insisting they need a fic.
Scenario/Prompt: I like something plotty with a dash of romance and humour, but whatever talks to you is great. Include the sea or the desert and an appropriate bird.
Squicks/Dislikes: weak, weeping elves, non con, torture, incest.
Title: Goldilocks
Series: A Dash of Romance
Author name: Zhie
Email address: zhiester@gmail.com
Characters: The elves of Rivendell, but mostly Erestor and Glorfindel
Rating: Various [this particular fic - PG13]
Disclaimer: It's Tolkien's world; I'm just living in it.
Summary: Glorfindel returns to Middle-earth at the beginning of the Third Age.
Notes: This is only the first fic for this swap... the way LJ is set up, it only allows one hidden post at a time. Therefore, there is a link at the bottom that will take you to hidden files where the rest is until after the release, at which point, the others will be added as well. In conclusion, stay after the end credits. There's more. I hope you enjoy these stories, Keiliss!
When Glorfindel arrived in Middle-earth the second time, there was little direction given to him. He was advised only that he should seek out the place that suited him best, and that his fate was tied to the fate of others. He was not expected to be the knight in shining armor, would not be a great hero of the age. He was fated to serve only as a messenger and a guardian. Yet, he was important – though the Valar refused to directly intervene in what happened in Middle-earth now, they encouraged those pure of heart and willing to return again across the sea to do so.
As far as Glorfindel knew, he was the only one granted leave so far. A brave Telerin crew offered him passage, and after a long and uneventful journey, Glorfindel set foot on familiar lands. He appreciated it was by boat and not on foot in freezing cold this time. With a single horse for travel and companionship, and a small pack of necessities, Glorfindel made his way across the lands.
There were three places he had been told by Oromë to seek out. Glorfindel decided he would spend time in each before he made a decision. Later, when he thought back to that journey, he would be reminded of a children’s tale he had not heard for many years. He found the commonalities ironic, considering his own name.
To the great forest realm he went first, Eryn Galen he was told it was called. There he found a King who, while fair and protective of his people, was harsh and seemingly cold from the events of a recent brutal war. The patrols were very rigorous and the military was rigid. This place would be much too hard for him to adjust to, he decided, and he moved on to visit the Elves on the other shore.
The second group of Elves he encountered were those of Lothlórien. These he found to be very fey and witty. They were hidden well, much like Doriath had been, and the population was well-educated. At every turn, he found the conversation to be far more interesting than discussions he had with the guards in Eryn Galen. There was much singing and dancing to be found in Lórien, but he bored of it soon. Additionally, he found his tasks (if one could call them that) quite soft, for no one seemed inclined to have him do much of anything. He knew it was time to move along.
Imladris was the third realm he came to, and he knew almost immediately that it was just right. The house was cozy and there was water all around. He could hear laughter in the trees, and there was singing here, too, silly and wondrous, but he could feel purpose as his horse carried him with certainty to the door of the sprawling estate.
It was near winter when he arrived. The house was to capacity with travelers, both expected and chance, and those who lived here year round by choice. He was greeted with warmth and acceptance even before he shared his name and purpose, and unlike his arrival in Eryn Galen or Lothlórien, no one appeared skeptical of his claims. He was brought to the lord of the house at once and could tell he would like him, and laughed at his fortune to find that the master of the realm took no royal title, yet descended from the King whom Glorfindel once served. His decision now seemed easier to make.
There was a second house, separate from the main residence, and this was where Glorfindel was invited to spend the coldest part of the first year. From the moment he stepped inside and heard the barking of the dog, the teasing voices of children, and the very embarrassed apologies from the lady that a guest was joining them on washday of all days, Glorfindel knew he had found what he was looking for.
On the first night, he helped to fold the shirts and match the socks. Glorfindel tried not to act too grateful to be given a menial task and to be useful, while twin boys – perhaps not boys, but not yet men – treated him like a long departed cousin and answered any and all inquiries with the utmost excitement. The next day, when the little one was up, Glorfindel went with her and the lady to see all of the places in the house, from the libraries to the kitchens, and every hall and closet and secret place. They had tea and lunch in the main house, and sat in a great room called the Hall of Fire to listen to poets and musicians. The little one spoke of how much she loved the room and how it was her favorite of all places.
Introductions came each time someone new entered, and soon Glorfindel found himself enlisted in a project here and an event there and found his calendar was quickly filling up for the month. It was dark when the trio retired to the little house again. Glorfindel barely made it through supper with the entire family before he excused himself and fell asleep on the sofa that had been made up for him while the master of the house not so secretly fussed that there was no proper guest room for their guest.
It was therefore the third day, the second morning of his presence in the valley he would come to think of as home, that he awoke late. Glorfindel stretched and yawned, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar looking stranger sitting across the room.
Slowly, Glorfindel sat up. It was obvious the new person was harmless, from the way he sat with legs tucked up under him. He was reading over sheets of paper in his lap, eating a biscuit that appeared to have been rescued from the previous day’s baking. Glorfindel said nothing until the dog leaped onto him, happy yips clearly proclaiming that he was thrilled to see that the new not-a-dog who currently gave him far more treats than the rest of the family was awake, and awake to the dog meant a potential for treats. Glorfindel gave the dog a good scratching on either side of his happy face, until the keen eyes could clearly determine that not-a-dog had no food. The dog leaped off onto the floor and shook out his coat all the way to his curled tail. After a good stretch and a yawn, the dog trotted over to sniff around the base of the chair where the usual not-a-dog was sitting.
“Sorry. I was trying not to disturb you.” The unknown person picked up a ball from the floor and tossed it for the dog to chase after. “I hope you slept well, considering the conditions.”
“I spent several months sleeping on the ground, so this is lovely.” Glorfindel yawned and stretched again before he remembered his manners, and his clothes. He had slept in a pair of loose trousers, and reached for the shirt which had been draped over the arm of the sofa the night before. “Please excuse me. The name is Glorfindel,” he said as he pulled the shirt over his head, then promptly caught an arm in the wadded up sleeve.
“Yes, I know.” The Elf was not some slender, wiry thing. A soldier Glorfindel might have guessed from the build, except for the ink stains on his palms and fingers that proclaimed a more scholarly profession. His hair was wavy and dark, but there was a hint of silver to it, and while it was certainly not unkempt, it was not meticulously brushed and braided, either.
The remainder of his biscuit was offered to the dog when he returned with the ball. The furry little mutt eyed it hungrily before he snatched it away, dropped it on the floor, and danced about his prize happily. This went on for a few moments until the dog decided it was better in his stomach than on the ground. “I doubt you remember me. You were busy speaking with Elladan and Elrohir.”
Glorfindel looked positively lost. “Was that at the really big house yesterday?”
“No, that was here. Elrond’s sons.” The Elf smiled warmly when Glorfindel appeared even more confused. “The pair of inquisitors you dealt with when you first arrived.”
“We met,” Glorfindel realized, and his cheeks colored appropriately.
“Not formally,” came the reply. “I would not expect you to remember my name. I am sure you are quite overwhelmed.”
“Uh… uh… you were talking to…”
“Elrond.”
“Rrrright, Elrond…” Glorfindel tried to file the name way. He was equally bad with remembering names and faces, but it seemed only right to try very hard, since he felt he might stay a while. “The father,” he added, and he immediately decided that the way he said it sounded goofy, and he had likely made a right fool of himself.
The person in the chair chuckled softly, but not unkindly. “My nephew,” he said. “My paternal grandparents are his great-grandparents on his mother’s side. Like Elrond, I am half-elven.”
“I need diagrams,” Glorfindel admitted.
His companion chuckled again. “I think you will get it by the end of the week. If it helps, I will try to remember to address everyone by their name when you are around. That might aid you in learning who everyone is.”
“That would be much appreciated,” sighed Glorfindel in relief. “And to whom shall I owe my sincerest thanks?”
“You may call me Erestor.”
“Erestor. Erestor, Erestor, Erestor,” repeated Glorfindel. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Err-Esss-Torrr. Erestor. Got it.”
As politely as possible, Erestor laughed. “I am not going to be offended if you forget by this evening. Besides, most of us have more than one name. Everyone in the house calls me Uncle. Neither one is my real name, but really, as long as I know to respond, what does it matter?”
“I think I am stuck with the name Glorfindel. I feel more like Laurfindë, but it almost seems pretentious on this side of the sea.”
“I understand. I would certainly prefer my true name, but Erestor is far less complicated.”
“Oh? And what would that name be, if I might ask?” Glorfindel was leaned a little forward, studying the other Elf intently. There was something that caused him to feel drawn to every word that fell from the other Elf’s lips, but he could not quite place the feeling. There was certainly something magnetic. Something that caused Glorfindel to look across the room at perfect lips, silently begging to be touched, to be licked and kissed.
Oh, so that was what it was...
Glorfindel appreciated the fact he still had his lap covered with the blanket.
“If I speak it, I should ask you not to—well, you have proven it unlikely you will utter it to others. It is Eluréd.” Erestor held his breath.
“You say it like I should know the meaning, but I fear that living like a ship in a bottle for much of my time in this land ages ago did not give me a very worldly view of things.”
“Perhaps I can help you discover the past, if you are so inclined,” offered Erestor.
“I would like that very much, Erestor,” said Glorfindel, and his mastery of the other’s name surprised them both.
“So you can be taught,” teased Erestor gently.
Glorfindel flashed Erestor a smile and said, “Perhaps I just needed to find the right teacher.”
Erestor returned the smile. “In that case, lesson two begins right after you have a chance to wash up and dress properly.”
Glorfindel could not recall a time in this life or the previous when he had managed to bathe so efficiently. He braided his hair in one damp plait, put on the best clothing he had in his pack. When he returned to the parlor to find that Erestor had folded up the sheets and blankets and yet was nowhere to be found, he took a seat on a chair.
The door opened a few minutes later, and Erestor quirked a surprised brow at Glorfindel. “That was quick,” he said.
Glorfindel attempted a clever retort, but it ended up as, “No time like the present or we might miss lunch.”
Erestor shut and locked the door. He lifted a hand and patted Glorfindel on the head as he circled around to another chair. “You already missed lunch,” he informed Glorfindel.
“That means I shall be early for dinner,” said Glorfindel, proud of his recovery.
“Only if you do well with your lessons,” teased Erestor.
Glorfindel shifted in his chair so that he could see Erestor better. “Lesson two, chapter one. What does Erestor do?”
“Lesson two, chapter two. Erestor is not very interesting. That is why he has the name Erestor.”
Glorfindel raised his hand. “I think we forgot to review chapter one, teacher.”
“You just reviewed it,” commended Erestor, and he gave a little smirk.
“Teacher. You teach,” realized Glorfindel. “Not this – I mean, yes, you are teaching now, but you teach others, too.”
“Correct. I am a tutor by trade. Less formally, I advise Elrond at his councils, and I haunt the library when I have time.”
“Can I just ask you questions right now?” Glorfindel fumbled to explain himself without giving away his true motive. “I am a little overwhelmed, and maybe taking things a little at a time would help. For me, just getting to know a few people would be nice before I tackle entire realms and thousands of years of history.”
“Of course,” said Erestor. “Ask away.”
Glorfindel rested back in the chair. So many questions filled his head.
Do you live here in this house? Which room is yours? Do you like dancing? Would you dance with me or would that be too weird? Is there a Mrs. Erestor? Will there ever be, or do I stand a chance of having that dance at some point? Or does your heart beat for some other man? Do you ever get cold, being a peredhel? If you do, do you prefer a blanket or cuddling? Can I help you keep warm tonight?
Naturally, he asked, “Do you sleep with your eyes open or closed?” Glorfindel almost groaned the moment the words were uttered.
“Not sure. I never looked.”
There was an uncertain pause, and then Glorfindel smiled when Erestor chortled at his own answer. “I have no idea. Maybe someday there will be someone to check for me.”
It took Glorfindel several weeks to figure out he was the someone Erestor was referring to.
----
To see the rest, please follow the link [once the release happens, I'll get the rest of them added onto the LJ!)
https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1HU3P-hkbeps6PIrAb1rCCtfDwsTGgexNtdMdQcsb2Ww/edit?usp=sharing
The Request:
Fic, fanart or either?: Prefer fiction but either is fine.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Erestor/Glorfindel OR Maglor/elf of choice OR Caranthir/Erestor OR whoever comes knocking on the window insisting they need a fic.
Scenario/Prompt: I like something plotty with a dash of romance and humour, but whatever talks to you is great. Include the sea or the desert and an appropriate bird.
Squicks/Dislikes: weak, weeping elves, non con, torture, incest.
Title: Goldilocks
Series: A Dash of Romance
Author name: Zhie
Email address: zhiester@gmail.com
Characters: The elves of Rivendell, but mostly Erestor and Glorfindel
Rating: Various [this particular fic - PG13]
Disclaimer: It's Tolkien's world; I'm just living in it.
Summary: Glorfindel returns to Middle-earth at the beginning of the Third Age.
Notes: This is only the first fic for this swap... the way LJ is set up, it only allows one hidden post at a time. Therefore, there is a link at the bottom that will take you to hidden files where the rest is until after the release, at which point, the others will be added as well. In conclusion, stay after the end credits. There's more. I hope you enjoy these stories, Keiliss!
When Glorfindel arrived in Middle-earth the second time, there was little direction given to him. He was advised only that he should seek out the place that suited him best, and that his fate was tied to the fate of others. He was not expected to be the knight in shining armor, would not be a great hero of the age. He was fated to serve only as a messenger and a guardian. Yet, he was important – though the Valar refused to directly intervene in what happened in Middle-earth now, they encouraged those pure of heart and willing to return again across the sea to do so.
As far as Glorfindel knew, he was the only one granted leave so far. A brave Telerin crew offered him passage, and after a long and uneventful journey, Glorfindel set foot on familiar lands. He appreciated it was by boat and not on foot in freezing cold this time. With a single horse for travel and companionship, and a small pack of necessities, Glorfindel made his way across the lands.
There were three places he had been told by Oromë to seek out. Glorfindel decided he would spend time in each before he made a decision. Later, when he thought back to that journey, he would be reminded of a children’s tale he had not heard for many years. He found the commonalities ironic, considering his own name.
To the great forest realm he went first, Eryn Galen he was told it was called. There he found a King who, while fair and protective of his people, was harsh and seemingly cold from the events of a recent brutal war. The patrols were very rigorous and the military was rigid. This place would be much too hard for him to adjust to, he decided, and he moved on to visit the Elves on the other shore.
The second group of Elves he encountered were those of Lothlórien. These he found to be very fey and witty. They were hidden well, much like Doriath had been, and the population was well-educated. At every turn, he found the conversation to be far more interesting than discussions he had with the guards in Eryn Galen. There was much singing and dancing to be found in Lórien, but he bored of it soon. Additionally, he found his tasks (if one could call them that) quite soft, for no one seemed inclined to have him do much of anything. He knew it was time to move along.
Imladris was the third realm he came to, and he knew almost immediately that it was just right. The house was cozy and there was water all around. He could hear laughter in the trees, and there was singing here, too, silly and wondrous, but he could feel purpose as his horse carried him with certainty to the door of the sprawling estate.
It was near winter when he arrived. The house was to capacity with travelers, both expected and chance, and those who lived here year round by choice. He was greeted with warmth and acceptance even before he shared his name and purpose, and unlike his arrival in Eryn Galen or Lothlórien, no one appeared skeptical of his claims. He was brought to the lord of the house at once and could tell he would like him, and laughed at his fortune to find that the master of the realm took no royal title, yet descended from the King whom Glorfindel once served. His decision now seemed easier to make.
There was a second house, separate from the main residence, and this was where Glorfindel was invited to spend the coldest part of the first year. From the moment he stepped inside and heard the barking of the dog, the teasing voices of children, and the very embarrassed apologies from the lady that a guest was joining them on washday of all days, Glorfindel knew he had found what he was looking for.
On the first night, he helped to fold the shirts and match the socks. Glorfindel tried not to act too grateful to be given a menial task and to be useful, while twin boys – perhaps not boys, but not yet men – treated him like a long departed cousin and answered any and all inquiries with the utmost excitement. The next day, when the little one was up, Glorfindel went with her and the lady to see all of the places in the house, from the libraries to the kitchens, and every hall and closet and secret place. They had tea and lunch in the main house, and sat in a great room called the Hall of Fire to listen to poets and musicians. The little one spoke of how much she loved the room and how it was her favorite of all places.
Introductions came each time someone new entered, and soon Glorfindel found himself enlisted in a project here and an event there and found his calendar was quickly filling up for the month. It was dark when the trio retired to the little house again. Glorfindel barely made it through supper with the entire family before he excused himself and fell asleep on the sofa that had been made up for him while the master of the house not so secretly fussed that there was no proper guest room for their guest.
It was therefore the third day, the second morning of his presence in the valley he would come to think of as home, that he awoke late. Glorfindel stretched and yawned, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar looking stranger sitting across the room.
Slowly, Glorfindel sat up. It was obvious the new person was harmless, from the way he sat with legs tucked up under him. He was reading over sheets of paper in his lap, eating a biscuit that appeared to have been rescued from the previous day’s baking. Glorfindel said nothing until the dog leaped onto him, happy yips clearly proclaiming that he was thrilled to see that the new not-a-dog who currently gave him far more treats than the rest of the family was awake, and awake to the dog meant a potential for treats. Glorfindel gave the dog a good scratching on either side of his happy face, until the keen eyes could clearly determine that not-a-dog had no food. The dog leaped off onto the floor and shook out his coat all the way to his curled tail. After a good stretch and a yawn, the dog trotted over to sniff around the base of the chair where the usual not-a-dog was sitting.
“Sorry. I was trying not to disturb you.” The unknown person picked up a ball from the floor and tossed it for the dog to chase after. “I hope you slept well, considering the conditions.”
“I spent several months sleeping on the ground, so this is lovely.” Glorfindel yawned and stretched again before he remembered his manners, and his clothes. He had slept in a pair of loose trousers, and reached for the shirt which had been draped over the arm of the sofa the night before. “Please excuse me. The name is Glorfindel,” he said as he pulled the shirt over his head, then promptly caught an arm in the wadded up sleeve.
“Yes, I know.” The Elf was not some slender, wiry thing. A soldier Glorfindel might have guessed from the build, except for the ink stains on his palms and fingers that proclaimed a more scholarly profession. His hair was wavy and dark, but there was a hint of silver to it, and while it was certainly not unkempt, it was not meticulously brushed and braided, either.
The remainder of his biscuit was offered to the dog when he returned with the ball. The furry little mutt eyed it hungrily before he snatched it away, dropped it on the floor, and danced about his prize happily. This went on for a few moments until the dog decided it was better in his stomach than on the ground. “I doubt you remember me. You were busy speaking with Elladan and Elrohir.”
Glorfindel looked positively lost. “Was that at the really big house yesterday?”
“No, that was here. Elrond’s sons.” The Elf smiled warmly when Glorfindel appeared even more confused. “The pair of inquisitors you dealt with when you first arrived.”
“We met,” Glorfindel realized, and his cheeks colored appropriately.
“Not formally,” came the reply. “I would not expect you to remember my name. I am sure you are quite overwhelmed.”
“Uh… uh… you were talking to…”
“Elrond.”
“Rrrright, Elrond…” Glorfindel tried to file the name way. He was equally bad with remembering names and faces, but it seemed only right to try very hard, since he felt he might stay a while. “The father,” he added, and he immediately decided that the way he said it sounded goofy, and he had likely made a right fool of himself.
The person in the chair chuckled softly, but not unkindly. “My nephew,” he said. “My paternal grandparents are his great-grandparents on his mother’s side. Like Elrond, I am half-elven.”
“I need diagrams,” Glorfindel admitted.
His companion chuckled again. “I think you will get it by the end of the week. If it helps, I will try to remember to address everyone by their name when you are around. That might aid you in learning who everyone is.”
“That would be much appreciated,” sighed Glorfindel in relief. “And to whom shall I owe my sincerest thanks?”
“You may call me Erestor.”
“Erestor. Erestor, Erestor, Erestor,” repeated Glorfindel. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Err-Esss-Torrr. Erestor. Got it.”
As politely as possible, Erestor laughed. “I am not going to be offended if you forget by this evening. Besides, most of us have more than one name. Everyone in the house calls me Uncle. Neither one is my real name, but really, as long as I know to respond, what does it matter?”
“I think I am stuck with the name Glorfindel. I feel more like Laurfindë, but it almost seems pretentious on this side of the sea.”
“I understand. I would certainly prefer my true name, but Erestor is far less complicated.”
“Oh? And what would that name be, if I might ask?” Glorfindel was leaned a little forward, studying the other Elf intently. There was something that caused him to feel drawn to every word that fell from the other Elf’s lips, but he could not quite place the feeling. There was certainly something magnetic. Something that caused Glorfindel to look across the room at perfect lips, silently begging to be touched, to be licked and kissed.
Oh, so that was what it was...
Glorfindel appreciated the fact he still had his lap covered with the blanket.
“If I speak it, I should ask you not to—well, you have proven it unlikely you will utter it to others. It is Eluréd.” Erestor held his breath.
“You say it like I should know the meaning, but I fear that living like a ship in a bottle for much of my time in this land ages ago did not give me a very worldly view of things.”
“Perhaps I can help you discover the past, if you are so inclined,” offered Erestor.
“I would like that very much, Erestor,” said Glorfindel, and his mastery of the other’s name surprised them both.
“So you can be taught,” teased Erestor gently.
Glorfindel flashed Erestor a smile and said, “Perhaps I just needed to find the right teacher.”
Erestor returned the smile. “In that case, lesson two begins right after you have a chance to wash up and dress properly.”
Glorfindel could not recall a time in this life or the previous when he had managed to bathe so efficiently. He braided his hair in one damp plait, put on the best clothing he had in his pack. When he returned to the parlor to find that Erestor had folded up the sheets and blankets and yet was nowhere to be found, he took a seat on a chair.
The door opened a few minutes later, and Erestor quirked a surprised brow at Glorfindel. “That was quick,” he said.
Glorfindel attempted a clever retort, but it ended up as, “No time like the present or we might miss lunch.”
Erestor shut and locked the door. He lifted a hand and patted Glorfindel on the head as he circled around to another chair. “You already missed lunch,” he informed Glorfindel.
“That means I shall be early for dinner,” said Glorfindel, proud of his recovery.
“Only if you do well with your lessons,” teased Erestor.
Glorfindel shifted in his chair so that he could see Erestor better. “Lesson two, chapter one. What does Erestor do?”
“Lesson two, chapter two. Erestor is not very interesting. That is why he has the name Erestor.”
Glorfindel raised his hand. “I think we forgot to review chapter one, teacher.”
“You just reviewed it,” commended Erestor, and he gave a little smirk.
“Teacher. You teach,” realized Glorfindel. “Not this – I mean, yes, you are teaching now, but you teach others, too.”
“Correct. I am a tutor by trade. Less formally, I advise Elrond at his councils, and I haunt the library when I have time.”
“Can I just ask you questions right now?” Glorfindel fumbled to explain himself without giving away his true motive. “I am a little overwhelmed, and maybe taking things a little at a time would help. For me, just getting to know a few people would be nice before I tackle entire realms and thousands of years of history.”
“Of course,” said Erestor. “Ask away.”
Glorfindel rested back in the chair. So many questions filled his head.
Do you live here in this house? Which room is yours? Do you like dancing? Would you dance with me or would that be too weird? Is there a Mrs. Erestor? Will there ever be, or do I stand a chance of having that dance at some point? Or does your heart beat for some other man? Do you ever get cold, being a peredhel? If you do, do you prefer a blanket or cuddling? Can I help you keep warm tonight?
Naturally, he asked, “Do you sleep with your eyes open or closed?” Glorfindel almost groaned the moment the words were uttered.
“Not sure. I never looked.”
There was an uncertain pause, and then Glorfindel smiled when Erestor chortled at his own answer. “I have no idea. Maybe someday there will be someone to check for me.”
It took Glorfindel several weeks to figure out he was the someone Erestor was referring to.
----
To see the rest, please follow the link [once the release happens, I'll get the rest of them added onto the LJ!)
https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1HU3P-hkbeps6PIrAb1rCCtfDwsTGgexNtdMdQcsb2Ww/edit?usp=sharing
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-12-26 02:14 am (UTC)I love all the Zhie-touches -- Erestor as one of the lost twins, Celebrian as a working mother (she SO would have been a working mother and a strong influence in Council), the little house next to the big formal House, the notes, Erestor's flowers, family life... there is even a dog! (Heck, they even had a perfectly good reason to share a room). Love the way you laid it out in Docs, how pretty you made it - that was an extra little surprise.
I'll come back to this whenever I need a smile and to have my heart warmed. Thank you so very much for giving my Christmas Day the perfect ending.
Oh and - the icon? Your work, yes? It's gorgeous!
Happy Christmas, Zhie *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2014-12-29 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-31 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-05 11:51 pm (UTC)I love Erestor's way of worming his way into Glorfindel's heart, and Glorfindel's shyness, and the whole setting of the private house of Elrond is such a sweet idea. Glorfindel choosing his place to stay for himself was also something I really enjoyed, it feels much more logical than him being sent to Imladris. Haha, and having him being bored by the singing and dancing in Lothlórien! :o) Great fun.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-06 06:33 am (UTC)Love Glorfindel's blushing, love that he found Rivendell just right, and the way you described the place made it very easy to understand his decision. Love the strong sense of family with Elrond, Celebrian and the kids and how Glorfindel just slipped in and joined them.
Erestor and Glorfindel themselves were a slow burning delight too - I think one of my favorite moments was when he put that note in Glorfindel's inner pocket. Mmmmm...