FLUFFLIES - PROTECTION
Jun. 30th, 2006 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zhieTrying to decide - I chose Rivendell elves, but does that mean they have to stay in Rivendell? 'Cause if this was in Valinor (minor change would need to be made) then it could get fluffy-naughty instead of just fluffy-silly... and we all like the naughty, don't we? hmmmmm... your thoughts, dear readers?
“Fin!” The name came out as a hissed whispered squeak, and Erestor skidded into the room. He nearly tripped on his robes as he came to a halt before Glorfindel who had just stood from his chair. With a giggled snort, Erestor trusted his balance to his officemate, looking over his shoulder as Glorfindel steadied him by the elbows. “I need you to protect me!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Glorfindel as he was pulled around the two desks that faced each other and shoved into Erestor’s usual chair. The sounds of someone approaching from down the hallway were audible as Erestor squished himself under the desk and yanked on Glorfindel’s legs so that he was suddenly at the desk and appearing alone in the room when Elrond entered.
“-and furthermore, I am not ‘fat’! You are simply too skinny, and we peredhel-“ Elrond paused, looking around quickly, and glancing back down the hallway. “Where is he?”
“Who?” The fact that Glorfindel was a bit confused as to what was going on made acting the part all that much easier.
Elrond crossed the room, seized the curtains and pulled them aside. “You know who,” he said in a low voice, his eyes falling upon the closet. He grinned and approached.
Glorfindel tried to make his legs more comfortable, as Erestor was taking up all of the good spots beneath the desk. Finally, he rested his bare feet in Erestor’s lap. “I have no idea who you-“
“Oh, yes you do,” argued Elrond, mumbling this at the closet door, and then stating rather clearly, “Erestor, open this door right now! I demand you stop hiding from me!” Grabbing the knob of the door, Elrond flung it open, and though a bag of feathers for making quills fell from the top shelf and drifted down upon the elf-lord, it was quite clear that Erestor was not inside.
“Shall I... call for a maid?” offered Glorfindel, who was trying hard not to laugh – but this was less due to the mess Elrond had made, and more because of the fingers vengefully tickling between his toes at the moment.
Elrond turned around and waggled a finger at Glorfindel, narrowing his eyes. “You tell me where he is right now, Glorfindel!”
“Oh, if only I knew. Where, oh, where could he be? Let me think...” As Glorfindel mused this to himself, he patted his feet about, keeping his toes away from Erestor’s hands while patting them against his friend’s shoulder, chest, stomach, ears, and of course, smooshing his entire foot against Erestor’s face at times. “Could he perhaps be under-“ *BANG* “Yeeowch!”
Elrond’s expression softened suddenly. “Glorfindel? Are you alright?” He began to walk toward the blond.
“Fine, fine, I am fine, yes, just- whoo, those old Gondolin war wounds, every now and then they just sneak up on you,” he said, rubbing his knee.
“Would you like me to take a look at it?” questioned Elrond with much concern.
Glorfindel adamantly shook his head. “Oh, no, best just to walk it off.” He stood up, walked a brisk circle around the chair, and sat back down. “Yes, much better,” he grimaced as he bent his knee, for it had banged into the top of the desk when Erestor, apparently not happy with having a foot in his face, bit the underside of his foot.
“Drat, he probably is halfway to Lorien by now,” cursed Elrond as he made his way to the door. “If you see him, bring him straight to me! ‘Fat’, my eye,” he mumbled as he left the room.
“Old Gondolin war wound?” Erestor popped his head up from under the desk – and Glorfindel cocked one brow up, for Erestor was looking up from a rather compromising position. “You are just lucky he didn’t catch me!”
Glorfindel chuckled and patted Erestor on the head. The dark advisor made a face at him. “Yes, but I have,” he said with a grin.
“Fin!” The name came out as a hissed whispered squeak, and Erestor skidded into the room. He nearly tripped on his robes as he came to a halt before Glorfindel who had just stood from his chair. With a giggled snort, Erestor trusted his balance to his officemate, looking over his shoulder as Glorfindel steadied him by the elbows. “I need you to protect me!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Glorfindel as he was pulled around the two desks that faced each other and shoved into Erestor’s usual chair. The sounds of someone approaching from down the hallway were audible as Erestor squished himself under the desk and yanked on Glorfindel’s legs so that he was suddenly at the desk and appearing alone in the room when Elrond entered.
“-and furthermore, I am not ‘fat’! You are simply too skinny, and we peredhel-“ Elrond paused, looking around quickly, and glancing back down the hallway. “Where is he?”
“Who?” The fact that Glorfindel was a bit confused as to what was going on made acting the part all that much easier.
Elrond crossed the room, seized the curtains and pulled them aside. “You know who,” he said in a low voice, his eyes falling upon the closet. He grinned and approached.
Glorfindel tried to make his legs more comfortable, as Erestor was taking up all of the good spots beneath the desk. Finally, he rested his bare feet in Erestor’s lap. “I have no idea who you-“
“Oh, yes you do,” argued Elrond, mumbling this at the closet door, and then stating rather clearly, “Erestor, open this door right now! I demand you stop hiding from me!” Grabbing the knob of the door, Elrond flung it open, and though a bag of feathers for making quills fell from the top shelf and drifted down upon the elf-lord, it was quite clear that Erestor was not inside.
“Shall I... call for a maid?” offered Glorfindel, who was trying hard not to laugh – but this was less due to the mess Elrond had made, and more because of the fingers vengefully tickling between his toes at the moment.
Elrond turned around and waggled a finger at Glorfindel, narrowing his eyes. “You tell me where he is right now, Glorfindel!”
“Oh, if only I knew. Where, oh, where could he be? Let me think...” As Glorfindel mused this to himself, he patted his feet about, keeping his toes away from Erestor’s hands while patting them against his friend’s shoulder, chest, stomach, ears, and of course, smooshing his entire foot against Erestor’s face at times. “Could he perhaps be under-“ *BANG* “Yeeowch!”
Elrond’s expression softened suddenly. “Glorfindel? Are you alright?” He began to walk toward the blond.
“Fine, fine, I am fine, yes, just- whoo, those old Gondolin war wounds, every now and then they just sneak up on you,” he said, rubbing his knee.
“Would you like me to take a look at it?” questioned Elrond with much concern.
Glorfindel adamantly shook his head. “Oh, no, best just to walk it off.” He stood up, walked a brisk circle around the chair, and sat back down. “Yes, much better,” he grimaced as he bent his knee, for it had banged into the top of the desk when Erestor, apparently not happy with having a foot in his face, bit the underside of his foot.
“Drat, he probably is halfway to Lorien by now,” cursed Elrond as he made his way to the door. “If you see him, bring him straight to me! ‘Fat’, my eye,” he mumbled as he left the room.
“Old Gondolin war wound?” Erestor popped his head up from under the desk – and Glorfindel cocked one brow up, for Erestor was looking up from a rather compromising position. “You are just lucky he didn’t catch me!”
Glorfindel chuckled and patted Erestor on the head. The dark advisor made a face at him. “Yes, but I have,” he said with a grin.
