A Flash Of Red Silk

A Flash Of Red Silk

Posted: October 20, 2006
Title: A Flash of Red Silk
Author: Athos
Type: FCS
Characters: Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and setting belong to Tolkien; the plot is mine.
Beta: Minuial Nuwing

Summary: Special entertainment at the Fall's End Festival, and Erestor really surprises Glorfindel.

*****

Glorfindel watched two of his guards wrestle, laughing and taunting each other good-naturedly. He laughed aloud as one tripped and pulled the other down with him into a huge heap of dry, fallen leaves. They lay amidst the fluttering leaves and kissed, and Glorfindel smiled, reflecting on carefree young love.

He made his way from the training yard to the House, where he had a meeting to attend. But he lingered on the path, stopping to admire the beauty of the autumn colors around him. Some leaves still clung nostalgically to their trees, the others decorated the moss-covered ground and path. The air was cool, and had the dusty but clean smell that fall always brings. The warm colors of the leaves contrasted with the cool breeze that foreshadowed the cold, monochrome months ahead. Winter had many things to love--snow fights, hot cocoa and skating, but to Glorfindel's bright, blue eyes, fall was simply beautiful.

With a sigh he trudged closer to the House, where staff would clear all leaves from the halls and windows would be shut against the chill, but he brightened when he remembered the item on their agenda that day—the planning of the Fall's End Festival.

* * *

"So—we've got the usual three days for the Fall's End Festival, and the first two will be the usual food, drink and dancing. What do we want to do for the third day, the finale?" Elrond asked.

"We can't do the usual sleeping, being sick to our stomachs and dreadfully hung-over?" asked Lindir dryly.

"No."

Lindir, Erestor, Glorfindel and Elrond were gathered around the table in Elrond's office, discussing their plans for the annual harvest festival. The final reaping of the various crops grown around Imladris and the great beauty of the season were reason enough for celebration, though elves really required little excuse to celebrate.

"I know!" Glorfindel exclaimed. The other elves looked at him expectantly. "It was something we did every so often in Gondolin—tons of fun." He grinned at his fellows.

"Well, what was it?" Lindir asked, smiling.

Glorfindel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and said, "A Masque."

"A Masque!" Lindir and Elrond echoed excitedly. Erestor raised his coal-black eyebrows.

"Yes. With everyone in costume and masks; you must make the rule that none can wear their usual attire. The Fall's End celebration the year of my majority was a masque, and it was magnificent fun!" After this happy explanation Glorfindel stared dreamily at the ceiling.

"Pleasant memories?" Elrond asked with a sly grin.

"Oh, yes…"

"That's a wonderful idea, Glorfindel!" Lindir exclaimed, becoming swept up in the Elda's enthusiasm. "Shadows and secrecy, hidden identities, like the earth hiding herself under the snow to be revealed in spring!"

"Now look what you've done…" Elrond grumbled at Glorfindel. "You've gone and made the bard wax poetical."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Glorfindel apologized unrepentantly.

"No, you're not." The elf Lord raised his voice and cut off Lindir's fanciful stream of ideas. "I think it's a great idea. Erestor?"

"I will announce it, my Lord."

"Ah, yes, and you must attend, my Lord Councilor! For the first time in ages, we shall see you in something other than your stuffy, stately, black-as-pitch, floor-length robes!" Glorfindel declared triumphantly, smiling his challenge to the black-haired advisor.

Lindir guffawed--a most un-elf-like sound, but no one really minded. Elrond smothered a grin and look to his advisor. Erestor merely raised his eyebrows and stood, leaving the three other elves in the room.

"He won't do it," Lindir predicted.

"Oh, I think our dear councilor may surprise you," Elrond said softly, with a secretive smile that none saw as they exited the study.

* * *

For the days preceding the Festival, Glorfindel nagged and teased Erestor unceasingly about his clothes, guessing what he would wear instead the third night of the celebration. Erestor endured all with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a dismissive wave of the hand.

Glorfindel wasn't discouraged. This was the most fun he'd had with the stoic councilor in years.

Erestor, as usual, was seemingly indifferent to the Elda's antics.

* * *

Glorfindel was sauntering thought the halls, softly humming a tune. He was about to turn a corner when he heard Erestor and Elrond talking. He stopped, and hid himself behind the corner, eavesdropping.

"Do we have dancers?" Elrond asked Erestor.

"Aye, my Lord. In fact, I've arranged for a… *specially trained* dancer to perform." Erestor emphasized the words, and Glorfindel furrowed his brow. "I think that Lord Glorfindel will be especially entertained."

Glorfindel's eyebrows shot up.

Elrond said nothing, and Glorfindel imagined that his lord's confusion was as great as his own, when the half elf said, "Erestor, are you saying…" Elrond laughed suddenly. "Oh, I cannot wait to see this!"

Glorfindel pressed himself flat against the wall as they continued moving, and went the other way, one eyebrow quirked up in confusion.

* * *

(Day one of the Fall's End Festival)

Erestor oversaw the festivities and feasting from the corner, dressed in his usual black robes.

Glorfindel sauntered over to him, holding a plate heaping with food. "Councilor! Won't you join me?" The Elda held his plate out to Erestor.

The dark-haired elf smiled slightly. Glorfindel's jaw dropped. The advisor looked carefully over the offerings of food on the plate, his gaze lingering on the corner piled at one side, and picked up a red, ripe strawberry dusted with chocolate. Holding onto the stem, he daintily licked the chocolate off with a pink tongue, looking at Glorfindel from under lowered lashes, and then drew the berry into his mouth, enjoying it with a very soft moan.

Glorfindel's jaw was still slack when Erestor smiled again and said, "Thank you, Glorfindel," before turning and going off to mingle.

Glorfindel closed his mouth and shook his head, watching the advisor leave, but something caught his eye. He almost dropped his plate in shock. He thought… but no, Erestor only ever wore black…the very thought was ridiculous. But for a split second Glorfindel could have sworn that he'd seen a flash of red silk, peeking out of the neck of Erestor's robes. He blinked hard, and looked back at the black-clad figure. "Nah…"

* * *

(Day two of the Fall's End Festival)

Glorfindel was sprawled back in a chair in the corner, watching other elves eating and laughing, playing games and talking. He groped blindly for the glass of wine he'd set on the floor beside him. Frowning when he could not find it, he say up, and found himself looking up into Erestor's dark eyes.

The advisor held a full glass of wine out to him. "I thought you'd appreciate a refill," he said with a smile.

Glorfindel looked suspiciously at the smile, but accepted the glass of wine. "Thanks. Care to join me?"

Erestor raised an eyebrow, and looked at the chair, then back at Glorfindel.

"You could sit on my lap," Glorfindel offered, batting his eyelashes.

Erestor laughed, and Glorfindel almost dropped his drink. Erestor didn’t laugh. What devilry was this? Had the advisor had too much to drink?

Erestor was speaking. "I think I'll just stand beside you." They sat and drank in silence for a moment. Erestor asked, "So…dare I ask what you will be wearing tomorrow?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something blue."

Glorfindel froze feeling a light touch on his neck, then fingers running through his golden hair. "yes," Erestor mused, stroking the golden strands. "Yes, blue would go well."

Glorfindel cleared his throat, feeling tingles travel through his body from Erestor's touch. "And you, my dear councilor?" Glorfindel returned, not really expecting and answer.

"That would be telling."

Glorfindel gasped and sat straight up when Erestor's fingers lightly stroked the tip of his ear. He looked sharply at the advisor but Erestor had already turned and was walking away. But Glorfindel's shock at the touch was quickly replaced with shock at seeing another flash of red, this time just under the hem of Erestor's immaculate black robes. It couldn't be. But this was the second time in as many nights that Glorfindel had seen it…

Glorfindel looked accusingly at the glass of wine in his somewhat unsteady hand. Time to start cutting back.

* * *

(The night of the Masque)

The masque was a hit. Elves decked in their best and brightest filled the hall, their laughter even merrier than the previous two nights. They wore masks of cloth, of plaster, of feathers and some even of leaves painstakingly placed together. A group of young elves had made wreathes of harvested wheat stalks and were tossing them out to the gathered elves. Glorfindel wore one on his head, the rich, golden wheat complimenting his hair beautifully.

It was well that the blue feathered and sparkling mask on his face smiled for him, for Glorfindel wasn’t smiling beneath it. The evening was almost past, and he hadn't seen Erestor all day.

Elrond approached, removing his burgundy and gold mask, and laid his hand on his seneschal's shoulder. "I can tell you're unhappy. What's wrong?"

Glorfindel sighed heavily. "Erestor didn’t come."

"How do you know? Everyone's wearing a mask," Elrond pointed out with a grin.

"He'd be the only one in black!" Glorfindel snapped. "He's been acting peculiarly towards me lately… and I teased him so much about this. I just…" He sighed again. I just wanted to see him here."

Elrond regarded his friend solemnly. "You may yet have your chance. Erestor will come, and he will be in color."

"He didn't say he would."

"He didn't say he wouldn't."

"But how will I know him? As you so astutely pointed out a moment ago, everyone's wearing a mask."

Elrond looked around. "Well," he drawled. "Everyone but Erestor is here already, so if anyone new shows up in the next few minutes, you can be pretty sure it's him." And with that, he left.

"Bloody brilliant…" muttered the irate Elda, downing the rest of his wine.

Just then, a musician hit a bass drum loudly three times, and the hall fell quiet. Lindir's voice rang out clearly, "If you will clear the center of the floor, please." Elves moved out of the way, ringing a circle in the middle of the hall. Lindir nodded to his musicians, who began a strange, foreign tune, very rhythmic and earthy. From the far end of the hall, Glorfindel saw elves part, and a red clad figure walked between them. The Elda saw that the elf was covered in a thin red cloak, the costume beneath obscured.

The music continued, and the gathered elves found themselves unconsciously moving to the beat. In one swift motion the elf in red cast off the covering, and the crowd gasped in awe.

It was a male elf, wearing billowing red trousers low on his narrow hips, his pale skin accentuated by a short vest in the same crimson hue. His dark hair, wound and woven with red ribbons, fell past his waist and a mask of red feathers and leaves hid his face.

The assembled elves cheered as the elf in red began to dance, swaying his hips and rocking them to the beat, his body sinuously weaving and twining as if around invisible figures in the room. A cymbal clashed and his neck snapped back, hair and red ribbons cast out behind him. He arched his back and danced, lost in the sensuous melody, and the watching elves moaned as they swayed, entranced by the dancer and his movements.

Glorfindel was speechless. Before him was the most erotic, beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he'd have no chance to find out who it was. He suddenly cursed his idea. What silly notion was a masque after all?

Then the dancer looked at him. Straight at him. The words Elrond had recently spoken to him, the conversation he'd overheard…they all came rushing back. Glorfindel's jaw dropped. So did his glad of wine, shattering on the floor.

Valar… It was Erestor. The sexy, lithe, incredible dancer in that silky red was Erestor.

As Glorfindel stared, Erestor, twisting his hips and rolling them forward, approached him. The red-clad, sensuous being lifted his arms, the sides of his vest pulling apart to reveal a small flash of gold adorning one erect nipple. He walked the last few steps up to the frozen Elda, cupped his face in both white hands, and kissed him full on the mouth.

Glorfindel's world stopped, everything dimming away in the magic of that kiss.

Erestor drew away after a minute, and they sighed together. Then, smirking, Erestor lifted the golden wheat wreath from Glorfindel's hair and placed it on his own head, leaving the hall.

Glorfindel started after him.

"Well?"

"Huh?" Glorfindel looked at Elrond, who was now standing beside him.

Elrond sighed in exasperation. "You're supposed to go after him and get it back," he said slowly, as if to explain something very simple to a small elfling.

"Oh." And with that, Glorfindel set off after Erestor, following the trail of red leaves and feathers back to his own room.

Elrond chuckled and turned to watch the happy, dancing elves. Yes… they must do this Masque thing again sometime.

*****

THE END

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