Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and any OC's.

Summary: Glorfindel/Erestor. When Glorfindel returns to ME, he finds his attention caught by a haunted advisor with a dark past. Between the outbreak of a war, and Erestor's own demons, can Glorfindel win his love, and survive the darkness?

Author's Notes: This is SLASH, people. This means a male/male relationship. If you are homophobic, do not read past this point.

You have been warned. No flames accepted because of this as proper warnings have been given!

Response to reviewers:

AM - Hopefully, the wait wasn't too long.

Dame J - thank you! I adore Erestor too! And Glorfindel/Erestor is so one of my favourite pairings!

Emma - thanks!

Golden Elf - thanks! They are some of my favourite characters too!

Haldir's Heart and Soul - thanks! And yes, Erestor has more spunk to him than either of the miscreants ever thought! And somehow, I don't see flowers cooling that temper!

She-Cat - Glad you found it funny!


It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.
- Andre Gide

The moon shone down on the lush gardens, turning everything silver and gleaming under its bountiful light. A figure darted ahead of him, playfully evading his grasp, and he laughed as he pursued it. Long legs ate up the ground, and he soon caught the smaller figure, grasping it by the hips and spinning it up and around until it squealed and the voice- male and silky - begged to be set back down on solid ground.

He spun the figure around, holding him by the waist and was surprised at what he saw there. Dark eyes glittering with playfulness and love looked back at him, lips curved upwards in a smile as a pale hand reached up to twine a lock of Glorfindel's golden hair around his finger.

Something niggled at him from the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He did not want for this to end. The delightful Elf in his arms was occupying all of his attention, and the warm feeling in his breast ensured that he wanted nothing to interrupt them.

Soft lips met his in an expression of love, not lust, and he tightened his hold on the slim waist. "Erestor…." he whispered softly.

The darkling counsellor smiled at him sweetly, but then he glanced at the waning stars and his smile saddened, "Our time is up, meleth nín," he said softly, "Time to go…"

And even as he tried to tighten his hold, to keep this lovely creature with him, Erestor slipped out of his arms and disappeared into the darkness. Feeling bereft, he held out his arms beseechingly, the ache in his heart growing stronger, "Erestor!" he called, "Meleth!"

He woke to the sound of the endearment on his lips, calling out for what he could not have. Moreover, when he discovered himself alone once more, he felt such a wave of loneliness as to take his breath away.

Only in his dreams, which became clearer by the day, had the warrior of Gondolin ever felt so content, so happy to simply be in another's presence. His mysterious dream lover had been appearing in his dreams since his coming to Middle Earth, and yet tonight, the face had been clear for the first time.

And it shocked him.

He did not deny that his thoughts had been much plagued by the counsellor, but to now have his dreams so invaded. And it had been happening since before he had even met the Noldo.

However, he could not deny that face, the name that he had uttered, and he felt torn in two. Why was he tormented with visions of the one Elf that would not even speak to him if he could avoid it? What was he thinking? Dreaming of the one Elf in Lindon who thought him a colossal idiot and an elfling?

Just why had the cool advisor affected him this badly? And how did he make it stop?

Ruefully, he admitted that maybe he did not want it to. The dreams may have been a torment, but they were also a balm for his weary soul. In them, he knew the comforted, contented feeling of companionship and the steady burning passion and incredible sweetness of love. It was not a feeling that one forgot easily.

He wanted to have that. In his waking life.

And he still remembered the feel of Erestor in his arms, the warm weight against his chest and the playful tugs on his long golden hair as he buried his face in silky black tresses. He still remembered the playful squeals and delighted giggles, the contented murmurs and the longing sighs, the softly voiced declarations of affections and the breathy moans of desire.

He wanted to hear them for real.

Unbidden, the image of Erestor came to him. Under the moonlight, sweetly smiling at him, and he winced as he contrasted it with the image of his last encounter with the mysterious counsellor. White faced with rage, eyes spewing venom and fire, voice dripping with contempt and barely contained ire. 'Twas a far cry from the willing and warm companion of his dreams.

But he now had more knowledge than he had ever had before.

He knew his name.

And that meant that he could act.

He was not a superstitious Elf, but to dream of Erestor so ardently… it had to be a sign of some sort. One that he was not going to ignore.

He would see if dreams really could come true.


The next day, he set his plan into action.

He knew well that the advisor was still furious with him, even if the heat of his ire had cooled somewhat. In fact, he had it on good authority from Elrond that Erestor's opinion of his intelligence had sunk dramatically after the incident at the solstice festival.

Nevertheless, he was determined to overcome that. His heart fluttered whenever he was close to Erestor, and though it was not a feeling he was familiar with, he had decided that he liked it. And thus, he would try to pursue Erestor as a friend before he tried to woo him. There was no need to scare the reserved advisor off ere the time was right.

And so he stealthily stationed himself outside the fair Elf's office and waited until he was alone before he casually dropped in to Erestor's study.

Alas, he did not get far.

Without looking up from the parchment he was neatly writing on, Erestor lifted one elegant hand and pointed at the door, "I do not care what mess you have caused this time, Captain," he said coolly, "But please find another counsellor to fix it for you. I have neither the time nor the inclination to be forever cleaning up after you."

The Elda tried to explain, "Lord Erestor, I…" but his attempt was foiled by the arrival of a messenger from Lórinand.

Erestor looked up and gave him a look that clearly asked what he was still doing here. And unable to do anything in the presence of the curious messenger, Glorfindel grudgingly accepted that he had been rebuffed and retreated to re-plan his strategy.


He could not help but watch him from afar though.

He willingly admitted himself entranced, but the more he watched Erestor, the more he came to see the compassionate, intelligent Elf that lay behind the cold façade. He watched when Gil-galad and Elrond took especial notice of Erestor, how they tried to liven the younger Elf up a bit. He had seen the counsellor's temper firsthand, knew that a fiery soul lay hidden behind a more demure cage. He watched the way Erestor rebuffed anyone ere they approached him with his cold demeanour, saw how solitary the advisor's private life was.

But one day, he saw something that made his heart ache strangely and also warned him that his fascination with the darkling counsellor was not as superficial as he had once thought it to be.

Clutching the estimates for the new armour in one hand, he had softly rapped on the door to Erestor's office. Upon receiving no answer, he carefully opened it and stuck his head in, planning to leave it on the counsellor's desk.

However, the advisor was not absent. As Glorfindel gaped, he saw that Erestor was fast asleep on the desk, shadowed circles under his eyes speaking of exhaustion. The silky hair was splayed across the desk and Erestor was slumped over a ledger book of some sort. The awkwardness of the position made Glorfindel wince just to look at him.

But 'twas not the unusual situation to find the advisor in, or the startling vulnerability that was shown when he slept, but the clear distress that Erestor was in that held the Elda's attention.

Glazed dark eyes moved restlessly, and his skin was paler than was healthy, mumbled words of distress and dismay left the advisor's lips, and an event happened that seldom ever happened to Glorfindel in his life. He did not know what he should do.

The reserved counsellor would surely not like anyone, especially him, witnessing him in such a state. And yet, he could not in good conscience allow him to continue in his nightmare, and not do anything to stop anybody else from walking in on the other Elf's distress.

He crossed to the Elf, having decided to wake him, but he could not resist brushing away a stray lock of raven hair from the advisor's face.

A soft cough from behind him made him jump and then spin around to face the new arrival.

Elrond Peredhel stood there, one dark eyebrow raised, taking in the scene before him. His brow furrowed with concern as he noted his shy friend's distress and his sharp gaze flew to Glorfindel, who rushed to explain himself.

"I came here to give him the estimates," he said, holding up the paper, "I got no answer, so I took a peek. He was like this when I came in. I did not know whether to wake him or not."

"Erestor would not be pleased to find you here," Elrond said quietly, closing the door softly behind him, "His opinion of your behaviour is not very high at the moment."

"I know," Glorfindel said, shaking his head, "I did deduce that from his frosty silences and his glares. His tongue was a bit sharp as well."

Elrond's lips twitched, "I believe Gil-galad has placed a bet on how long you shall last." he said with amusement, "Tell me, when was the last time the servants actually granted a request of yours?"

Glorfindel grimaced, "Last week, I think," he said, "Does Erestor keep a grudge long?"

"Oh, it should not take more than a few centuries to wear him down," Elrond said, enjoying tormenting the Balrog slayer, "No more than that I should think. But you had better go now; I shall take care of Erestor."

And so, although he would have preferred to stay, Glorfindel acquiesced and with one last look at the sleeping advisor, he left.


Having seen the counsellor have a nightmare seemed to have broken down a barrier within Glorfindel. He was less wary of the rapier of a tongue that the counsellor wielded and with that realisation came the knowledge that he would like to know the counsellor better.

And so, having decided to make a move, he bided his time impatiently. And his chance came at the next ball the King held.

He made sure that he looked resplendent, dressing in sea blue and grey. And ignoring all of the more than willing partners that sought to occupy his attention, he searched the room for Erestor.

He got the feeling that Elrond knew something of what was going on in his mind, and it seemed that the herald was not certain as to what he made of it yet. But that grey gaze did follow him quite often. If he had to guess, he would say that Elrond was wary of his motives and he could understand that, since any of the relationships with his bed partners since coming to Lindon had been fleeting dalliances at best.

However, he suspected that Elrond would withhold judgement until he could more clearly see Glorfindel's motives. However, as he did not seem to be making any attempts to foil the Elda's plans, he refused to worry about it now.

Spotting the object of his search skulking in a corner, he sighed. Trust Erestor to pick the most shadowed spot in the entire room, and clad in dark colours as he was, he was very hard to see unless you were looking for him specifically.

Sidling up to the advisor, he did not waver under the force of that cool gaze that tried to deter him from approaching. And seeing that there was only one entrance to this little nook, his larger body blocked the way out nicely.

"Good evening, my Lord Counsellor," Glorfindel said brightly, ignoring the clearly uncomfortable stance of the other Elf.

"Are you intending to make another spectacle of yourself, Lord Glorfindel?" Erestor replied, stonily refusing to match Glorfindel's smile. "Or do you just wish to annoy me?"

Glorfindel placed a hand over his heart, "You wound me with your harsh words, counsellor - may I call you Erestor- Ah, good. Surely you will not maim an Elf who only wishes to get to know you?"

Erestor's eyes narrowed and took on a wary tone, "And why would you want to get to know me?" he demanded.

"Why, because you intrigue me, Erestor," Glorfindel answered sincerely, "And I have to admit that I much desire some stimulating conversation."

"I care not for your social habits, Lord Glorfindel," Erestor said without infliction, "Please find another Elf to bother, or let me by."

"But where is the fun in that?" Glorfindel said, going so far as to lay a hand on the advisor's arm, ignoring the way that the other Elf stiffened, "I am not jesting with you, Erestor. I do wish to get to know you. And as we are working together now, it cannot but help our working relationship as well. What say you, Erestor?"

"Leave me pass!" Erestor demanded, feeling the first stirrings of panic within him. He hated being trapped, hated being confined.

"Not until you agree to speak with me over dinner," Glorfindel coaxed with what he hoped was a winning smile.

But he was not prepared for the reaction of the counsellor, who pulled away from his arm and rushed past him, not stopping until he had gone out a side door from the ballroom.

From across the room, grey eyes watched him disapprovingly.


The day after, Glorfindel still could not shake the sight of Erestor's panic filled eyes from his mind. He did not like thinking that he had caused that emotion in the smaller Elf. And he did not have a clue as to how he could have caused it. 'Twas bad enough that Erestor had seemed oblivious to his advances but to think that he had actually frightened the other Elf….

And so, worry and curiosity niggling at him, he sought the advice of the one who seemed to have witnessed the scene.

Elrond did not seem overly surprised when Glorfindel asked for a private audience with him. And shooing his aide out, he gestured for Glorfindel to take a seat.

"What do you wish of me, Glorfindel?" he asked softly, grey eyes intense and knowing.

"I think you know why I am here," Glorfindel said, sitting down on the plush chair, and leaning forward earnestly, "I think you saw what passed between me and Counsellor Erestor last night. He seemed frightened to my eyes, and I know not what I did to cause that. I never thought him an Elf easily frightened and yet his dreams torment him and he panics in my presence. I wonder why I frighten him so."

Elrond sighed, and folded his arms, looking very much like his grandfather Tuor in that moment, "I do not think that it was you, mellon," he said softly, but Glorfindel perked up at his words, "Erestor has led a hard life," he continued, choosing his words carefully, "He does not socialise well. And he likes being confined even less."

"So when I cornered him, literally, he panicked?" Glorfindel said aloud, trying to make sense of it, "I do not understand. I wish to befriend him Elrond, but I do not know why he is so reticent towards company. I should not be speaking of a private matter so forwardly like this, but I do have feelings for him. To what extent and depth they are, I cannot say yet, for I know little of Erestor save what he shows to everyone. But I would like the opportunity to get to know him better. Please tell me what ails him. Please…"

Elrond eyed the balrog slayer carefully, seeing the sincere expression in azure eyes, and for his part, he judged his intentions to be true. But Erestor's past was such a delicate matter… Though as he looked at Glorfindel, he felt his own foresight taking him. This Elf was to be important to Erestor… that much he could tell. He could not say to what extent, but in hopes for both his friends' happiness, he had to give Glorfindel a fighting chance.

Reluctantly, he began to speak, and Glorfindel listened with a rapt expression, "Erestor grew up in Arvernien. Well, he spent the first part of his childhood there anyway. His father was a Noldo, from Nargothrond and his mother, a refugee from Doriath. His mother was scarred by the Kinslayings and though she married his father, she grew to resent him for what the sons of Fëanor did, though he had no part in any of their deeds. And when Erestor was born, she resented him too. She still loved them both dearly; she could not do otherwise. But there was always a wariness between them, for she feared the Noldorin ambition would awaken in her husband or her son, and Erestor's father was too hurt by it to make up for the distance it caused with his son. Their life was a peaceful one until the Fëanoriath came to Arvernien, and began another Kinslaying. Erestor's father fell first, to the swords of the Fëanoriath, and his mother was killed by them too when she rushed to his side. Erestor witnessed both, I am afraid. And long has he blamed himself for something wholly out of his control."

Elrond paused, "Afterwards, he travelled to Balar. He was not the only orphaned child on the isle, I am sorry to say. He speaks only little of his time there, and then only if pressed, but I do know that his sharp wits and thirst for knowledge came to the attention of one of the lords, and they helped to get him a position in the palace where his intelligence would be recognised and rewarded. He has always been a quiet Elf, and he has never taken a lover. Gil-galad soon grew to value his counsel, as did I. He has never let go of his past however, and if something else happened to scar him so, he will not say. For my part, I believe something else did happen. However, I will not press him. But you have seen the dark dreams that haunt him. You have heard as much of his history as I am willing to tell you. If you desire to know anymore, then it is from Erestor that you must seek answers."

"I understand," Glorfindel replied, his mind spinning as he tried to repress the image of a young Erestor being forced to see his parents slain before his eyes.

"Think long and hard on whether you are committed to this course, Glorfindel," Elrond said softly, because he is not an Elf that will be befriended easily. And it will be a hard road. I will not see him hurt, captain."

Glorfindel nodded and stood, "I thank you for sharing this with me, and I assure you, if I do decide to pursue Erestor, it will be not be on a whim."

"That is all I can ask," Elrond replied. "But be gentle with him, Glorfindel o Los'lóriel…"


In the safety of his rooms, Glorfindel pondered the knowledge that Elrond had bequeathed to him for a long time. And the moon had risen high in the sky ere he finished his deliberations.

Erestor had a past, and a dark one, yes. But he had never been so drawn to another person before and he would not let that pass by unmarked. Elrond had quietly warned him not to hurt Erestor, but that was the last thing that he wanted to do. If he admitted it to himself, what he wanted was more than a fling, but a real relationship. And perhaps more beyond that.

He knew that Erestor had more barriers and walls up than the walls of Gondolin, but he sensed that it would be well worth the effort. Never before had another Elf so easily entranced him, had found a way into his heart without trying at all, and Glorfindel wished to see where it could lead.

He had watched the beautiful advisor from the shadows and had seen him both weak and strong, and he wanted to see more. He wanted to know everything. This… desire to both protect and cherish baffled him, but it felt so good that he did not resent its presence.

Elrond had warned him not to pursue Erestor if he did not mean it.

But Glorfindel had scarcely meant anything more in his life.

However hard it would be to pull Erestor from the shadows into the light, he felt that it would be well worth it.

Erestor would be worth it.


A/N: So? What do you think? Opinions please! Feedback is most welcome and appreciated! Please READ AND REVIEW!


Meleth nín - my love

Meleth - love

Peredhel- Half-Elven

Mellon - friend

Fëanoriath - sons of Fëanor

Los'lóriel - golden flower


Avernien - the city on the mouths of Sirion, where many of the survivors of Doriath, Nargothrond, and Gondolin dwelt. Was destroyed by the sons of Fëanor, who initiated a kinslaying and sacked the city.

Doriath - An Elvish Kingdom in the First Age. Ruled by King Thingol Greycloak, husband to the Maia, Melian, and father to Lúthien Tinúviel. Melian wove a series of enchantments to form an impenetrable border to the realm called Melian's Girdle. Celeborn and Thranduil lived there in the First Age. Galadriel visited there. Was destroyed first by Dwarves, then by kinslayings.

Ereinion - 'scion of Kings'. High King of the Noldor after Turgon's death. Also known by his épessë (surname) Gil-galad.

Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon.

Gondolin - called the Hidden City or the Hidden Realm. Founded and ruled by Turgon, son of Fingolfin, in the First Age. Eventually destroyed by Morgoth.

Tuor - Elrond's grandfather, father of Eärendil, husband to Idril. Son of Huor, a lord of the Edain in the first age. Was sent to Gondolin as a messenger by Ulmo, Lord of Waters, to warn its king, Turgon, that Morgoth would soon find his hidden stronghold. Turgon ignored the advice but Tuor stayed on in Gondolin, wed Idril Celebrindal, the King's daughter, and sired his son, Eärendil. He escaped in the fall of Gondolin, and left Middle Earth for the West with Idril on a ship. 'Tis said that he alone of all the Edain was granted the life of the Eldar, and chose to be numbered amongst the Noldor, whom he loved, and that he still dwells west of the Great Sea.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»
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