Married To An Elf
Part 7
Posted: October 26, 2007
Title: Married To An Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë
Summary: It’s the morning of the binding ceremony, but Erestor and Glorfindel still find time to occupy themselves…
*****
The day of the ceremony dawned, and already the house was in full motion. Elrond checked and re-checked everything, driving practically everyone else to distraction.
“I swear,” one of the cooks muttered under her breath, moving the bowl of citrus fruits aside that Elrond had unceremoniously dumped on the table, “that he is worse than Lord Erestor!”
“Worse?” a voice asked.
Whirling around, the cook flushed slightly under Glorfindel’s amused gaze. “Diheno nin, hiren,” she whispered. “I did not mean to insult Lord Elrond.”
Glorfindel gave a small laugh. “I know you do not. If truth be told, I think you may be right,” he added conspiratorially, winking.
The cook giggled. “Why, Lord Glorfindel, are you flirting with me? And on the morning of your binding ceremony!”
“Ah, I am but merely making the most of the hours I have left before I am irrevocably bound to the one who holds my heart.”
“I am so pleased for both of you,” the cook said quietly. “We all are.”
“Thank you.” Looking about him, Glorfindel frowned slightly at the other elves bustling about. “Is there a chance of getting some food? I am afraid both Erestor and I have missed out…” The seneschal had no time to finish off his sentence when he was pushed unceremoniously onto a stool.
“But, of course! Sit here while I quickly prepare something for the two of you!”
Glorfindel watched, bemused, as the cook quickly gathered her ingredients and, before long, a tray was placed before him, filled with freshly-made pancakes, succulent strawberries, grapes, cream, and a myriad of other treats that the seneschal feared the tray would break under the weight should he try and lift it. “Enough!” he laughed. “We will not be able to eat all of this!”
The cook looked at him knowingly. “Yes, you will.”
This time it was Glorfindel’s turn to flush under her gaze, and decided it was time to beat a hasty withdrawal. Lifting the tray, he said a brief ‘thank you’ before exiting the kitchen, leaving a smirking cook in his wake.
Balancing the almost over-laden tray, Glorfindel carefully moved his way down the corridor back to the room he and Erestor now shared. His question as to how he was going to hold the tray one-handed whilst trying to open the door was answered when said door was opened by Erestor, whose eyes widened. “We can not eat all of that!” he protested.
“According to the cook, we will. She seemed to be rather…sure of it, actually.”
The slight innuendo was not lost on Erestor. He blinked and then his cheeks took on a slightly pink hue. “Oh,” was all he said before opening the door wider and allowing the seneschal to enter the room.
With a sigh of relief, Glorfindel placed the tray onto the table, and then turned to look at the darkling elf. “Where would you like to start?”
Gazing at the munificence before him, Erestor could feel his mouth beginning to water. “Are those pancakes freshly-made?” he asked.
“They are, and the eggs have just been boiled. The bread has only just come out of the oven, too.”
“Is there some of that special cream cheese?” Erestor asked hopefully.
In reply, Glorfindel found the plate holding the more than generous portion.
“Definitely pancakes, strawberries and the cream cheese.”
Glorfindel smiled. “And what about afterwards?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Erestor’s gaze widened slightly. “Afterwards we start getting ready for the ceremony,” he said nonchalantly.
“The ceremony is not until the end of the day, ervainen vorn,” Glorfindel responded.
“Is it?” The deceptiveness of Erestor’s voice was belied by the now sultry gaze that he was directing at the golden-haired warrior, and Glorfindel swallowed.
“Did you have something…specific in mind?” the seneschal asked, his voice low.
“Mayhap,” Erestor responded, licking his fingers clean of any residue from the cream cheese. Glorfindel watched the darkling elf’s movements, wishing that talented tongue would be used on his erection, now very prominent in his leggings.
“I do know what you are thinking, melethron,” Erestor purred.
“Good,” Glorfindel said huskily.
*****
Elvish translations:
ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one
melethron – male lover
*****
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