Genre: slash
Rating:PG-13
Dramatis personae: Erestor/Glorfindel, Celeborn/Melpomaen
Warnings: none
DAY 9: "Vanilla Elf"
Yule was only one day away, and all of Imladris was buzzing with laughter and excitement. The kitchen staff was working around the clock, and even sightings of Feronil humming a Yule tune had been reported.
Naturally, all Elflings were highly excited and driving their parents insane.
It was after Estorel’s sixth visit to Glorfindel’s and Erestor’s bedchamber to inquire if it really was not Yule Eve yet that Glorfindel had brought up a book series called "Bedtime Tales for Difficult Elflings". This was supposed to be a classic, and one Glorfindel had been introduced to as an Elfling himself, a fact which did not surprise Erestor in the least.
Glorfindel wished to see if the library of Imladris contained at least volumes I – VIII of "Bedtime Tales for Difficult Elflings", and as Erestor did not want his husband to dig through the old tomes unsupervised, he accompanied him.
The library was empty, as one might expect the day before Yule. Everything was in place, a testimony of Melpomaen's sense of order. Even the quills on Erestor's desk were neatly arranged, all facing North, and Erestor’s mail was stacked perfectly parallel to the edge of the desk.
So it was no surprise that an open book, seemingly carelessly placed on the desk, caught Erestor’s attention.
"How odd! Somebody left a book here".
"Outrageous!" Glorfindel replied. "A book? In a library? Who has heard of such an event before? Let me call my guards so we may investigate!"
Erestor ignored his sarcastic husband and picked up the book. He read a few lines, then he turned it over and read the title.
"And? Is it anything of interest? I hope it is not 'Snail Breeding for Beginners' or something equally exciting, or you might not be able to drag yourself away from this library again for another week," Glorfindel quipped.
Erestor did not answer, but seemed to listen to something. Then he sniffed.
Glorfindel frowned, for he knew what this meant, and so, mouthing the question, he asked if somebody was hiding in the library. Erestor nodded, sniffed again, and then smiled.
"There is no need to hide, Melpomaen - it is only I."
"And I, Glorfindel. Come here, young one, we do not bite! Well, at least I do not - as for your father..."
Erestor raised the book threateningly, and Glorfindel decided not to complete his sentence.
After a few moments, it was indeed Melpomaen who emerged from the depths of the aisle between two long rows of books. His face was red, he bit his lips, and he shuffled his feet. All in all, he was a picture of guilt.
"Well met, ada and Glorfindel," he croaked, then cleared his throat to repeat his greeting in a normal voice.
"Why do you hide from us, penneth?" Glorfindel asked, noticing well that the young Elf did not appear too comfortable in their company. "Have you sneaked in here to read Lord Elrond's special book collection in secrecy?"
He put an arm around the shoulder of the highly embarrassed Elf, and squeezed it comfortingly.
"If you need recommendations, simply ask me. I can tell you where to find the good lines, right down to the page number. It will save you a lot of trouble searching. There are also some interesting illustrations which..."
"Glorfindel! Will you please stop embarrassing my son?"
It was a bad sign when Erestor called him by his full name, so Glorfindel let go of Melpomaen and took a step back.
"Have you been reading this book, Melpomaen?" Erestor asked, and after more shuffling of feet, the young Elf nodded. Erestor reached out and stroked Melpomaen's hair.
"It is alright, son. It is perfectly fine to read this book. But you know that you could ask me as well if you had any questions."
Glorfindel almost sprained his neck when he tried to read the title of the book, for now he was really curious. Finally he managed, and his eyes widened.
"But Melpomaen! The information in that book is absolutely outdated! All you can learn from it is how not to do it!"
"'From Elfling to Elf' by Master Elwar is a classic, Glorfindel, and has been a highly respected guide for ages in the education of Elflings about the more physical aspects of relationships," Erestor snapped.
Glorfindel groaned, and addressed poor Melpomaen, whose face had taken on the colour of a cooked lobster.
"Melpomaen, what your father is trying to tell you is that this book tells you how to make love. I was subjected to it as a young Elf as well, and while it contains 187 rules about courtship and the proper way to arrange roses in a vase, it does not teach you a single useful thing for a situation where you and the Elf of your choice are naked and between the sheets. I would recommend that you read 'Mirkwood Love Secrets', written by Lord Amaris. Whatever you want to know, you will find it in that wonderful book, and more besides! Even your ada and I found some information which..."
"You. Out of this library. Now."
The Bruinen in winter could not have been icier than Erestor's tone, and so Glorfindel hurried out of the library.
Erestor sighed, and once he was certain that Glorfindel had not only left, but also did not lurk outside the door, he turned to Melpomaen again, who, by now, was very close to crying.
"So, now that it is only you and I, you can tell me what is bothering you. Pray tell, Melpomaen – has this anything to do with Lord Celeborn?”
Melpomaen cringed. He cast his eyes downwards and stared at the toes of his soft shoes.
"Sort of," he mumbled, "in a way. There were some things that I needed to know.
"Things I could not have told you?"
Melpomaen rolled his eyes and threw his hands up.
"Please, ada! You cannot possibly expect me to ask you about these things!"
"I am an advisor," Erestor replied, slightly insulted, "I am asked all kind of things by all sorts of people. I do not see why you could not have sought my counsel. After all, I am your father."
"And that is exactly the reason why. You told Celeborn that you would feed him to the Wargs if he did not treat me kindly."
Erestor folded his arms over his chest and shook his head.
"This is absolutely not true. I never said I would feed him to the Wargs. Do you think me a brute? I said I would throw his liver out for my crows to feast on."
Melpomaen shuddered.
"Really, ada, I cannot see that there is a difference between the two threats."
"Oh, there is,” Erestor replied, “at least for the crows."
Melpomaen sighed.
"Oh ada, I know you mean well. But can you not understand that I love him?"
Erestor looked at his son. There could be no doubt that the young one was very serious – but how about Celeborn? Yes, at the moment, he seemed sincere, but who knew if this would last? Erestor loved his son dearly, he could not bear the thought of seeing him hurt and maybe cast aside once Celeborn’s mood changed.
Suddenly, Erestor remembered a night, many, many years ago…
~~~Flashback Erestor ~~~
"Correct me if I am wrong here, but has, by any chance, some great warrior pierced your heart with his broad sword? No pun intended, of course,” Celeborn said.
"I feel … a mild attraction," Erestor muttered.
"Of course you do. And I am an elderly Hobbit female who spends her time knitting."
"Ai – my lord, do not make fun of me!"
"Please, Erestor – there is no need to pretend. You care for him, he cares for you – so where is the problem?"
Erestor shrugged.
"My lord, how shall I put it – I do not feel the wish to boost Lord Glorfindel's collection. It is already the biggest in Middle earth, and I do not think there is any need to add another trophy."
Celeborn nodded.
"I see. You are worried that this is not a matter of the heart, but one of a hunter stalking his prey. "
"I should think so."
Celeborn climbed down from the tree, and brushed the small pieces of bark off of his leggings, carefully avoiding Glorfinkle who pecked after the lordly ankle with his beak.
"And you think him a rogue, one who takes life easy and likes to play with hearts, breaking them in the process and leaving a trail of weeping lovers behind him?"
Erestor winced, but nodded.
Celeborn put a hand on the advisor’s shoulder, and gave him a stern look.
"Erestor. Glorfindel may act the fool, but he is none. He saw the fall of his home and his family slaughtered, saw his lover die, fought the Balrog, died in the process and returned from the halls of Mandos. If anybody has earned the right to be a nuisance, it is him."
He paused a moment, then he asked:
"Does he call you silly names?"
"Yes."
"Plays pranks on you which leave you embarrassed?"
"Indeed."
"Gives you tasteless presents?"
"He does."
"Then, my friend, I can only give you one advice, and you would do well to heed it."
Erestor looked up at the majestic, wise Elven lord in anticipation.
"I will, my lord – and what is your advice?"
Celeborn squeezed his shoulder.
"Stock up on wild thyme oil – strawberry-scented will just not last."
~~~End of flashback ~~~
"Ada? Ada! Is anything wrong? Ada!"
Melpomaen tugged on Erestor’s sleeve, looking worried, for his father had been elsewhere in his thoughts for a while, and had not reacted to any of his questions.
Erestor shook his head.
"I am sorry, Melpomaen. I was lost in thought."
He reached out and stroked Melpomaen’s cheek.
"My apologies, Melpomaen. I should not have been so negative. After all I married a rogue, too, and one whose reputation was even more questionable than Celeborn's. And I have not regretted this decision for even a second as yet."
Relief showed on Melpomaen's face, and Erestor smiled.
"You know that I only worry because I love you, do you not?"
Melpomaen hugged Erestor and buried his face in the soft black velvet of his tunic.
"Oh ada, of course I know, and I love you too! I want to be as happy as you and Glorfindel!"
Erestor returned the embrace, pressing a kiss on Melpomaen's forehead. Then he took a step back and straightened his robes.
"Take all the time you need to study, Melpomaen. And maybe Fin is right, reading 'Mirkwood Love Secrets' could do no harm. I have to leave now, I need to pick something up at Miss Mauburz' shop."
"A present?" Melpomaen asked, and when Erestor winked, he laughed.
"It is a present then! Tell me what it is! Something for Estorel? Or Glorfindel?"
Erestor shook his head and arched an eyebrow, then he tapped on Melpomaen's nose.
"It is a present for a young Elf I just happen to be very fond of."
Melpomaen giggled, waved Erestor good-bye and disappeared behind the curtain which led to Elrond's secret library.
"It is on the fifth shelf from the left!" Erestor called after him.
Then he turned to leave, for Miss Mauburz’ shop would close soon. He really hoped that she still had that wonderful vanilla oil, for there was no way he would allow wild thyme anywhere near his son!
* * *
"So this is why Erestor is called the 'Vanilla Elf' then," Lórien said, "silly me, I always thought it had something to do with his favourite dessert. But it is fascinating to see how much trouble love causes the Firstborn. Is there no such thing as a simple love with no problems or hindrances? Without century-long courtship, pain and sorrow?"
Vairë ran her hand over the lower half of the tapestry, as if caressing the soft fabric.
"Oh yes, there is such a thing."
"There is?" Lórien asked with great interest.
"Indeed. Elrond woke up on Yule morning, and…"