IDOS #2! Glorfindel/Lindir
Jul. 1st, 2007 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zhieYes, I'm a little behind... Mark and I had some running to do this afternoon.. oh well... good things come to those who wait...
For Zilah...
How about Lindir/Glorfindel?
Words: delicious,beauty. lonely.
Another pairing I doubt I've done... here we go... this one went longer than I expected it to! And... I pretty much disregarded the words because the muses just led me and I followed. Bad elf muses... er... yeah.
Glorfindel/Lindir; with appearance by Erestor
Rating: PG13?
Title: Awkward Auditions
“Next.”
“But... that was only the first verse!”
“Next.”
“I have seventeen more!”
“NEXT!”
The young minstrel, now startled, stumbled backwards off of the stage. He ran into two chairs and the doorway as he left.
There was a long drawn silence, the only motion in the room being Glorfindel drumming the tips of his fingers on the top of the table that looked hideously misplaced in the Hall of Fire. Beside him sat a much calmer ellon, trying not to smile.
“Irritated, are we?”
Glorfindel simply glared at his companion.
Erestor picked up his quill and drew a line through the final name on the list. “I thought that one had quite the dexterity with his lute.”
“I did not like him.”
“You did not like any of them.”
Glorfindel snorted, and leaned down on the table, plopping his chin down on his arms. “I hope the next one sings a song about your death,” he grumbled.
“You think no one has before?” Erestor chuckled. “Maglor used to sing a song calling for my untimely death; Daeron had three or four. Saeros and I used to sit in the back of Thingol’s hall and shoot wet wads of paper at him out of hollow wooden tubes. Ah, the good old days,” mused the counselor as he started to stand up.
Raising his head, Glorfindel frowned. “We still need to hire a minstrel.”
“You chased away all of the applicants.”
“That was the last one?! I thought you said we had many to choose from?”
“We did. Had. There were, and now, there are no more.” Erestor gathered up the papers he had been writing on during the interviews that had been conducted. “I had been under the impression we were going to judge them on their skills, not their song choices.”
“Why did they all have to sing about me?”
“Some of the most difficult selections are the ones that detail your heroic acts.” To himself more so than to Glorfindel, Erestor added, “Probably because they match your personality so well.”
Glorfindel glared again and was about to argue that he was less difficult than present company in most things, but a timid knock on the door distracted him. “Yes?”
A slender, silver-haired ellon stepped into the room. He looked tired from travel, but his eyes were bright and filled with both excitement and hesitation. “Excuse me,” asked the lyrical voice, “but I have come to apply for the minstrel position. Is this the correct room for that?” He looked at the stack of papers in Erestor’s hands and his shoulders drooped. “Am I too late?”
“We were about to call it a day, but since you are here.” Glorfindel motioned to the stage while Erestor pulled his chair back out and sat down again.
“Name?” asked Erestor as the ellon took the stage.
“Lindir.” He stood at the center, with his hands folded in front of him. “I apologize for my lack of instrument. In my long trek from Greenwood, I was attacked by some orcs and it was damaged.”
“You were attacked? Were you hurt?” Erestor’s expression as he looked over the young ellon was one of worry; the looks Glorfindel were giving Lindir were more curious and appraising.
“No, sir. There were only eight of them.”
Glorfindel blinked. “Only eight?”
“Yes, sir.”
Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged looks. “How is the rest of your party faring?” Erestor took a fresh sheet of paper and wrote Lindir’s name upon the top.
“I traveled here on my own,” announced the ellon proudly. “First time out of Greenwood on my own, and the furthest I ever traveled before. I was only to Laurelindorinan twice before.”
“How old are you?” wondered Glorfindel. He was pinched by Erestor, who hissed, “You cannot ask him that!”
“Can I sing before I answer that?” It was obvious the ellon was young and did not want this to affect his chances at the position.
“Yes, of course you may,” said Erestor before Glorfindel could speak. “Now, I am sure you are aware of the fact that we are very heavily populated with residents who are Noldorin. Do you know any Noldorin folk songs?”
Lindir frowned. “I know very few, sir. Being Sindarin and living in a Silvan community, most of my repertoire is in Sindarin. I also know quite a lot of Westron songs and tales. Will that be a problem?”
“Probably not,” Erestor assured him. “Are there any you do know in Quenya?”
Lindir thought for a moment, and then answered, “I do know one about a Noldorin hero,” he offered. Glorfindel groaned, but Erestor shushed him. “Should... should I sing something else?”
“No,” said Erestor firmly, while Glorfindel groaned, “Yes!” Lindir frowned.
“Please, sing the Noldorin song,” coaxed Erestor, shooting Glorfindel a little glare.
Lindir nodded, cleared his throat, and began to sing. “Gil-Galad was an Elven-king; of him the harper’s sadly sing—“
“Stop right there!” Glorfindel shouted.
In a meek voice, Lindir asked, “Was I that bad?”
“No, you were perfect! And, better that that, you are hired!” announced Glorfindel.
“But... I only sang one line,” protested Lindir.
“Luckily for you, it was the right line,” Erestor told him. “Although, I would have preferred to have heard a little more... do you know any songs about Gondolin, by chance?”
“Gondolin?” Lindir looked confused.
“Ancient Elven city,” said Erestor. Lindir shook his head. “What about a ballad about Glorfindel the Great?” Erestor ignored the narrowed eyes focused on him just a few feet away.
“Sorry, I am not familiar with that name,” apologized Lindir. “Who is Glorfindel?”
At this, Glorfindel’s eye widened. “You do not know who Glorfindel is?” Lindir shook his head. “He was only the most famous, most heroic, most well-known Elf in all of the First Age! He killed a balrog practically with his bare hands, and saved countless lives! Never heard of him? Ever at all?” Lindir shook his head again, looking quite worried. “Thank the Valar!” shouted Glorfindel to the heavens, and then, to Lindir he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
“What? Er... well, sure, I guess...”
Glorfindel bounded up to the stage, slid his hand back into the silvery locks, and gave the startled Sinda a big smooch on the lips. He could tell from the way Lindir flinched that he had never been kissed before, and so he gave him another, slower kiss, and was delighted when Lindir parted his lips for Glorfindel’s questing tongue to enter and explore. “Excellent job,” said Glorfindel with a wink as he took a step away and to the side to hide the bulging of his leggings. “You start tomorrow evening. Erestor has some paperwork you need to fill out, just formalities. I look forward to your performance tomorrow, Lindir.” Glorfindel stepped off the stage and to Erestor said, “If I am no longer needed?” Erestor let one brow rise up slightly, his eyes on his contemporary’s growing groin. He looked down with a smirk and made a dismissive motion with his hand, and Glorfindel left the room.
“So... am I really hired, or is he just a little... odd?” asked Lindir.
“Both,” answered Erestor as he scribbled a few more things down on the sheet and beckoned Lindir forward with the flick of his wrist. Lindir approached the table. “I need you to sign here, and there.”
As Lindir did so, he asked, “So, this Glorfindel fellow... should I avoid singing about him?”
“Just nothing about his death. If you want to sing about how bizarre he is, hiring people after a ten second interview or kissing them afterwards, please do.”
Lindir’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, but he recovered quickly. “Intriguing,” he said, his voice weak.
Erestor waved the sheet to get the ink to dry faster. “So... out of curiosity... how old are you?”
“One hundred fifty-eight,” admitted Lindir.
‘Good,’ thought Erestor as he gathered up his papers again. ‘Glorfindel has his eye on you, and he prefers them younger than himself...’
For Zilah...
How about Lindir/Glorfindel?
Words: delicious,beauty. lonely.
Another pairing I doubt I've done... here we go... this one went longer than I expected it to! And... I pretty much disregarded the words because the muses just led me and I followed. Bad elf muses... er... yeah.
Glorfindel/Lindir; with appearance by Erestor
Rating: PG13?
Title: Awkward Auditions
“Next.”
“But... that was only the first verse!”
“Next.”
“I have seventeen more!”
“NEXT!”
The young minstrel, now startled, stumbled backwards off of the stage. He ran into two chairs and the doorway as he left.
There was a long drawn silence, the only motion in the room being Glorfindel drumming the tips of his fingers on the top of the table that looked hideously misplaced in the Hall of Fire. Beside him sat a much calmer ellon, trying not to smile.
“Irritated, are we?”
Glorfindel simply glared at his companion.
Erestor picked up his quill and drew a line through the final name on the list. “I thought that one had quite the dexterity with his lute.”
“I did not like him.”
“You did not like any of them.”
Glorfindel snorted, and leaned down on the table, plopping his chin down on his arms. “I hope the next one sings a song about your death,” he grumbled.
“You think no one has before?” Erestor chuckled. “Maglor used to sing a song calling for my untimely death; Daeron had three or four. Saeros and I used to sit in the back of Thingol’s hall and shoot wet wads of paper at him out of hollow wooden tubes. Ah, the good old days,” mused the counselor as he started to stand up.
Raising his head, Glorfindel frowned. “We still need to hire a minstrel.”
“You chased away all of the applicants.”
“That was the last one?! I thought you said we had many to choose from?”
“We did. Had. There were, and now, there are no more.” Erestor gathered up the papers he had been writing on during the interviews that had been conducted. “I had been under the impression we were going to judge them on their skills, not their song choices.”
“Why did they all have to sing about me?”
“Some of the most difficult selections are the ones that detail your heroic acts.” To himself more so than to Glorfindel, Erestor added, “Probably because they match your personality so well.”
Glorfindel glared again and was about to argue that he was less difficult than present company in most things, but a timid knock on the door distracted him. “Yes?”
A slender, silver-haired ellon stepped into the room. He looked tired from travel, but his eyes were bright and filled with both excitement and hesitation. “Excuse me,” asked the lyrical voice, “but I have come to apply for the minstrel position. Is this the correct room for that?” He looked at the stack of papers in Erestor’s hands and his shoulders drooped. “Am I too late?”
“We were about to call it a day, but since you are here.” Glorfindel motioned to the stage while Erestor pulled his chair back out and sat down again.
“Name?” asked Erestor as the ellon took the stage.
“Lindir.” He stood at the center, with his hands folded in front of him. “I apologize for my lack of instrument. In my long trek from Greenwood, I was attacked by some orcs and it was damaged.”
“You were attacked? Were you hurt?” Erestor’s expression as he looked over the young ellon was one of worry; the looks Glorfindel were giving Lindir were more curious and appraising.
“No, sir. There were only eight of them.”
Glorfindel blinked. “Only eight?”
“Yes, sir.”
Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged looks. “How is the rest of your party faring?” Erestor took a fresh sheet of paper and wrote Lindir’s name upon the top.
“I traveled here on my own,” announced the ellon proudly. “First time out of Greenwood on my own, and the furthest I ever traveled before. I was only to Laurelindorinan twice before.”
“How old are you?” wondered Glorfindel. He was pinched by Erestor, who hissed, “You cannot ask him that!”
“Can I sing before I answer that?” It was obvious the ellon was young and did not want this to affect his chances at the position.
“Yes, of course you may,” said Erestor before Glorfindel could speak. “Now, I am sure you are aware of the fact that we are very heavily populated with residents who are Noldorin. Do you know any Noldorin folk songs?”
Lindir frowned. “I know very few, sir. Being Sindarin and living in a Silvan community, most of my repertoire is in Sindarin. I also know quite a lot of Westron songs and tales. Will that be a problem?”
“Probably not,” Erestor assured him. “Are there any you do know in Quenya?”
Lindir thought for a moment, and then answered, “I do know one about a Noldorin hero,” he offered. Glorfindel groaned, but Erestor shushed him. “Should... should I sing something else?”
“No,” said Erestor firmly, while Glorfindel groaned, “Yes!” Lindir frowned.
“Please, sing the Noldorin song,” coaxed Erestor, shooting Glorfindel a little glare.
Lindir nodded, cleared his throat, and began to sing. “Gil-Galad was an Elven-king; of him the harper’s sadly sing—“
“Stop right there!” Glorfindel shouted.
In a meek voice, Lindir asked, “Was I that bad?”
“No, you were perfect! And, better that that, you are hired!” announced Glorfindel.
“But... I only sang one line,” protested Lindir.
“Luckily for you, it was the right line,” Erestor told him. “Although, I would have preferred to have heard a little more... do you know any songs about Gondolin, by chance?”
“Gondolin?” Lindir looked confused.
“Ancient Elven city,” said Erestor. Lindir shook his head. “What about a ballad about Glorfindel the Great?” Erestor ignored the narrowed eyes focused on him just a few feet away.
“Sorry, I am not familiar with that name,” apologized Lindir. “Who is Glorfindel?”
At this, Glorfindel’s eye widened. “You do not know who Glorfindel is?” Lindir shook his head. “He was only the most famous, most heroic, most well-known Elf in all of the First Age! He killed a balrog practically with his bare hands, and saved countless lives! Never heard of him? Ever at all?” Lindir shook his head again, looking quite worried. “Thank the Valar!” shouted Glorfindel to the heavens, and then, to Lindir he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
“What? Er... well, sure, I guess...”
Glorfindel bounded up to the stage, slid his hand back into the silvery locks, and gave the startled Sinda a big smooch on the lips. He could tell from the way Lindir flinched that he had never been kissed before, and so he gave him another, slower kiss, and was delighted when Lindir parted his lips for Glorfindel’s questing tongue to enter and explore. “Excellent job,” said Glorfindel with a wink as he took a step away and to the side to hide the bulging of his leggings. “You start tomorrow evening. Erestor has some paperwork you need to fill out, just formalities. I look forward to your performance tomorrow, Lindir.” Glorfindel stepped off the stage and to Erestor said, “If I am no longer needed?” Erestor let one brow rise up slightly, his eyes on his contemporary’s growing groin. He looked down with a smirk and made a dismissive motion with his hand, and Glorfindel left the room.
“So... am I really hired, or is he just a little... odd?” asked Lindir.
“Both,” answered Erestor as he scribbled a few more things down on the sheet and beckoned Lindir forward with the flick of his wrist. Lindir approached the table. “I need you to sign here, and there.”
As Lindir did so, he asked, “So, this Glorfindel fellow... should I avoid singing about him?”
“Just nothing about his death. If you want to sing about how bizarre he is, hiring people after a ten second interview or kissing them afterwards, please do.”
Lindir’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, but he recovered quickly. “Intriguing,” he said, his voice weak.
Erestor waved the sheet to get the ink to dry faster. “So... out of curiosity... how old are you?”
“One hundred fifty-eight,” admitted Lindir.
‘Good,’ thought Erestor as he gathered up his papers again. ‘Glorfindel has his eye on you, and he prefers them younger than himself...’
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 06:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 08:18 am (UTC)it was really funny on how Lindir had no clue on who Glorfindel was and I loved the fact that he sand about the high-king
Good story.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 10:01 am (UTC)Thank you so much for this.
*Hugs*
zilah
no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-03 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-03 09:53 pm (UTC)Oh, this is precious one! I fell love (again) to Erestor, he was so cool and ... well, Erestor.
~Sil~