Lavender

Lavender

Posted: May 2, 2008
Title: Lavender
Author: LK
Type: FCS
Characters: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing. Here’s the formal version: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Slash
Beta: Di
Challenge: Daily Drabble - prompt: Lavender
Story Arc: Predates my stories Eärendil’s Hero,The Perfect Yule, Yule Wishes and Yule Blessings. I have decided to expand the story line, but each one can stand completely by itself.

Summary: Erestor is not happy.

*****

First Age, 208, Gondolin

“But, beloved,” Glorfindel cajoled in a soothing tone, “Against your creamy skin, it makes you fairly shimmer. And the way it contrasts with your luscious ebony locks is absolutely stunning!”

Erestor glared at his husband of eight months as he stood in the center of their bedroom, his storm grey eyes swirling with displeasure. His arms hung limply at his sides and his usually impeccable posture was slouched. His ruby lips were uncharacteristically curved downward with his bottom lip protruding slightly in a pout. He was the very image of an unhappy elf.

Smiling brilliantly, Glorfindel held out his arms as if he were presenting Erestor as a great work of art and said, “‘Tis perfect!”

“Glorfindel!” Erestor ground out as he shot daggers at his mate with his eyes, his voice growing in volume with each word he spoke, “It is fine in a soap, it is heavenly in nature, it is even exceptionally attractive on an elleth,” he paused, closing his eyes as he attempted to regain his control. When he continued, his voice was much quieter, “It is not, however, suitable for an ellon–and certainly not one of King Turgon’s most senior advisors--to wear lavender robes!”

“But, sweetling . . .” Glorfindel interjected, contriving to make his voice sound hurt.

“No!” Erestor interrupted, folding his arms tightly over his chest, his face set in an angry scowl.

“I had them made especially for you . . .” Glorfindel tried again.

“That is nearly as disturbing as the robes themselves,” the unhappy elf muttered.

“ . . . and you have not even finished dressing in them,” Glorfindel finished, ignoring is husband’s comment.

Erestor spun around to face the floor-length mirror that leaned artfully against their bedroom wall and snapped, “How much more lavender could I possibly wear? You have placed lavender ribbons in my braids; the tunic is lavender, the leggings are lavender, the embroidered shoes are lavender, the under robe is lavender . . .”

“And the outer robe is a very deep purple,” Glorfindel said, his tone slightly devious as he reached within the tissue paper-filled box that had been delivered to their rooms not fifteen minute earlier. Erestor’s eyes grew wide as his husband carefully lifted a magnificent robe of deep amethyst and held it for his inspection.

Turning, Erestor slowly approached the garment as it lay draped over his husband’s arms. He paid no attention to Glorfindel’s smug smile, far too intent on the magnificent robe with its long sleeves that would hang nearly to the floor when worn; it was shot with . . . could that be mithril thread? . . . on all the edges and hems in a pattern reminiscent of flowing water in recognition of Erestor’s heritage as a member of the House of the Fountain. Teardrop gemstones that were half golden yellow and half a sparkling purple, were set along the threading to form flowers that symbolized his marriage into the House of the Golden Flower.

“Are those Ametrine gemstones?” Erestor asked in awe.

“Aye, they are.” Glorfindel was smiling broadly at his husband’s enthralled expression.

Erestor raised huge eyes to his husband’s beaming face. “Glorfindel, this must have cost a fortune,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

The golden Lord merely shrugged, dismissing such a trivial detail.

“May I try it on?” the stunned elf asked breathlessly, suddenly of a very different opinion about the robes that had been made for him.

Wordlessly, Glorfindel held up the garment so Erestor could put it on.

Eagerly, Erestor put his arms through the sleeves before turning to face his reflection, twitching the fabric here or there until I lay properly on his frame.

“Beloved this is . . .” words failed him as he ran his hands over the lush fabric, admiring how the gems flashed in the last light of the day as it streamed into their room. He was amazed that, despite the richness of it, the garment was neither heavy nor bulky.

“I see why the other pieces of the ensemble are lavender,” he commented, nodding in understanding.

“Aye,” Glorfindel replied as he stood behind the darkling elf. “No other color would have looked as handsome with it.”

“Absolutely,” Erestor answered softly as he turned this way and that, admiring how the contrasting light and dark colors set off the different parts of the outfit as well as his own attributes.

“So . . . you will wear this to the King’s feast tonight?” Glorfindel asked hopefully.

“Aye, beloved,” Erestor said, turning to kiss his husband’s soft lips. “I will proudly wear it.”

Glorfindel’s brilliant smile was more reward than Erestor felt he deserved for his earlier fit of pique.

******************

Imladris, early Third Age

Erestor stood in front of the mirror in the chambers he shared with his reborn husband. Glorfindel’s memory of his first life, and his bond mate, had been finally restored on Yule only five years before. Once he recalled their life together, Glorfindel had lost no time in having the artisans of Imladris recreate the magnificent set of robes Erestor had treasured for centuries while they lived in Gondolin. It had taken all of the skills the tailors and jewelers possessed, and several years to collect enough of the rare gemstones, but it had finally been accomplished. Needless to say, Erestor’s shock and then appreciation at receiving the gift had made all the effort worth it.

Erestor ran his hands lovingly over the rich fabric, fondly recalling the first time he had worn the original lavender and deep purple ensemble, which had been lost when Gondolin fell. Guilt had made him particularly attentive to his husband’s needs that night in apology for his angry outburst. When Glorfindel had surprised him with the recreated robes, perfectly duplicated right down to the embroidered slippers, Erestor silently promised to express his thanks to Glorfindel in much the same manner. It would be a tiring, but thoroughly satisfying, night for them both.

“Ready, love?”

Glorfindel’s soft voice came from over his shoulder and Erestor turned to gaze admiringly at his husband. Glorfindel had chosen a tunic and leggings of indigo with an outer robe of midnight blue, colors that would compliment Erestor’s clothing, making them the most stunning couple in attendance at the reception.

Leaning indolently against the doorjamb, the yellow diamonds and blue sapphires in his circlet twinkling in the firelight, Glorfindel looked every inch the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

Glorfindel straightened and slowly approached his husband, his cornflower blue eyes roaming Erestor’s tall form. “Just as I remember–beautiful.”

With a playful smile, Erestor asked, “Which is, dearest? The robes or me?”

His lips parting in a fond smile, Glorfindel chuckled saying, “Both,” before he leaned in to share a tender kiss.

Erestor hummed with appreciation when their lips finally parted, keeping his eyes closed for a moment longer as he lingered in the moment. But then he opened his eyes suddenly with a gasp as he recalled, “My circlet!”

Glorfindel’s only reply was to snap his fingers in acknowledgment of the recalled item that would complete Erestor’s appearance. Erestor carefully settled the swirling mithril set with tiny gold flowers on his head and turned toward Glorfindel, silently asking if the placement was straight.

As Glorfindel reached to give the headdress a slight adjustment, he said, “Thranduil has always wanted you for himself. He will be absolutely green with envy when he sees you tonight.”

“Then, ‘tis good that green suits him so well,” was the cheeky reply.

As they turned to depart for the formal reception, Erestor gladly took the hand Glorfindel offered.

“You can be sure Elrond will have something to say about the robes you are wearing, love. What will you tell him?”

Erestor considered for a moment. Finally, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he said, “I will tell him that only a real ellon wears lavender.”

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: LK