Arctic Banana... ? by cavaliernoir
“Wake up”, Glorfindel snapped. The bane of his existence didn’t even flinch. “Wake up, Erestor, or so help me, I will crack this raw egg on your forehead”. Dark eyes (blood shot, Glorfindel noted with dissapointment) opened out of sheer curiosity, but it wasn’t meant to be. Upon discovering that Glorfindel had nothing with which to back up his threat, Erestor very deliberatley turned over and made every appearance of going back to sleep. “You delinquent, hungover, son of a moriquendi!”, Glorfindel cried, his thin thread of patience frayed beyond repair. “For Valar’s sake! The detail from Mirkwood is coming today! I can’t manage this all by myself!” Erestor only moaned and clapped his pillow over his head.
‘Fine.’, Glorfindel thought, ‘I am perfectly capable of brutal tactics.’ Smiling inwardly, he pulled off his boots. Stiffling laughter that was threatening to escape his mouth, he gingerley lifted the blanket’s edge and climbed into bed with Erestor.
Erestor’s eyes popped open. At first he was too scared too move, certain he was hallucinating. Glancing cautiously over his shoulder, his suspicions confirmed, Erestor screamed like a frightened elfling and jumped out of his bed. “GAY, GAY, GAY!!!!”, he shouted.
Glorfindel was unable to sit up, clutching his stomach with laughter. At length, he wiped the tears away from his eyes, pulled his boots back on, and stood up. Smiling smugly, he ordered Erestor to get dressed and made a point of swaggering out of the chamber.
Erestor stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off. Once it had, he wasted no time putting his very colorful vocabulary to use. He hurled epitaphs at Glorfindel in just about every language Arda has to offer as he splashed his face with water, trying to get his brain working. What had he done last night to make him feel so groggy, anyhow? He studied his image in the mirror above the washstand. His eyes were red, bloody heck. Hopefully it would wear off before he ran into Elrond, as he inevitably would. ‘I must have had some fun last night,’ Erestor tought, attempting to smooth the rumpled clothing he’d fallen asleep in, ‘so why can’t I remember anything?’
He thougth over this for a while, not realising how much time was passing or that he was still absentmindedly splashing water in the general direction of his face. Erestor was shaken abruptly from his thoughts by a loud rapping at the chamber door. “Erestor? Are you dressed yet?”
Erestor grimaced. That voice was undoubtedly Glorfindel’s. He had no desire of seeing Glorfindel at the moment, so he replied in the negative, failing to remember that Glorfindel was one of the least modest elves in Arda. Glorfindel entered the room as he answered. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten to…..Yes, you are dressed….?”
Glorfindel sighed inwardley, knowing exactly why he had been lied too. But Erestor had deserved it, he thought, so instead of apologising fixed him with a very quizzical stare.
“That was not very nice.” Erestor said pointedly.
“But it was very effecticive.” Glorfindel replied cheerfully.
“Yes, well, you won’t get me out of bed that easily next time.”
“Then next time I will be sure to remove my tunic as well.”
Upon hearing this, Erestor turned as pale as the white stone he stood on, or would have stood on, had one been able to see the floor. Glorfindel smiled, but his good mood soon faded, as he realised Erestor’s tunic was soaked through.
“How in Arda did you manage that?” Glorfindel said, pointing to his friend’s tunic. Erestor cursed, realising what he had done while trying to recall the previous night’s events.
“And this is the last clean one!” Erestor yelled while looking desperatley into his closet. Erestor may not have been normal, but he was still an elf, and still was not fond of wearing someting that had been laying on his floor for a week.
“Come on, you can borrow one of mine.” Glorfindel said as he started towards his chambers.
“No I can’t.” Erestor spat, “Not only are your tunics all flowery and bright, they would be…..” Erestor trailed off, not willing to make a blow to his own pride.
“Too big? I’m sorry, ‘Re’t. I forgot you were one of those scrawny advisor types. And NONE of my tunics are ‘flowery’.”
Erestor Glared at Glorfindel. “I am not scrawny, I’m wiry. And I’m this close to making a blonde joke.”
Glorfindel snorted. “To be frank, I almost wish you would. Every inch of you is screaming comebacks. You’re a mess, you know – what were you doing last night?”
Erestor, thinking on his feet, snapped “None of your business. Now will you loan me a shirt or not?”
Glorfindel clapped his hands together excitedly. “Ha! I’ve always wanted to see you in something instead of black.”
“A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead walk into a bar.” Erestor began.
“Always a bar, huh Erestor?”
“They walk up to the counter and start talking to the bartender. The bartender tells them about a magic mirror in the ladies’ room in which a genie will appear and grant a wish to whoever speaks the truth into the mirror. If they lie, though, they are sucked in and can never come back. So they find the mirror of which the bartender spoke. The redhead steps in front of the mirror and says, “I think I am the most beautiful ellyth in this bar”, is granted her wish, and leaves. The brunette then steps in front of the mirror, says, “I beleive I am the smartest ellyth in this bar”, is granted her wish, and leaves. Next the blonde steps in front of the mirror. She thinks for a moment, then speaks. She says “I think” and is immediatley sucked into the mirror.”
Upon finishing, Erestor became painfully aware of his surroundings. He was standing in Glorfindel’s bedchamber in front of a mirror, garbed in a stunning full-length white tunic embroidered around the neck, cuff, and hem with tiny golden flowers. Erestor frowned. “It’s flowery.”
“I didn’t want to dissapoint your expectations.”
Erestor studied the cuff of the monstrosity, grimacing painfully. It was then that he noticed it. A name and an adress, printed in a loopy hand in blue ink across his palm. “Who’s Meldaquen?”, he asked absently. “Let me see that”, Glorfindel said, grabbing Erestor’s wrist. “I don’t know anybody named Meldaquen. But now you have to tell me what you did last night”. Erestor wrenched his wrist out of Glorfindel’s grasp. “I don’t have to tell you anything. As it happens, I cant recall anything to tell”.
Glorfindel shook his head pityingly. “You really are hopeless, ‘Re’t”. He tapped his chin, thinking. “I bet Meldaquen could tell us”.
“I’ll bet she – ”
Erestor couldn’t finish, as he was cut off by the clear ringing of an elvish horn – undoubtedly heralding the party from Mirkwood – in the distance. It was promptly answered by a horn of Imladris. “Come on, ‘Re’t! We’re late!”
“I’m NOT going in THIS!” Erestor yelled, motioning towards his attire.
“You don’t have a choice!” Glorfindel replied, grabbing Erestor’s arm and hauling him, at a run, towards the courtyard in front of the main hall where Elrond, Arwen, Figwit, Lindir, Celebrian, Elladan and Elrohir would be waiting.
Erestor struggled against Glorfindel’s hold, but was powerless to do anything against it.
After flying through what any mortal would have called an intricate labrynth of corridors, they arrived in the main courtyard of Imladris. “How nice of you to make an appearance, Erestor, Glorfindel.” Elrond said tersely.
“My most sincere appologies, my lord.” Erestor said sweetly in his best impression of Glorfindel.
“Apologise for your bloodshot eyes, as long as you’re at it. You know that we are already of little standing in Thranduil’s eyes.” Elrond said threateningly.
“It’s such a shame, too,” chorused Elladan, “I’ve heard many a tale of his wine.”
Wine, however, was of little to no improtance in Thranduil’s mind as his party approached Imladris. “Is this the law of gravity?”, a very small Legolas asked, attempting to put his hands in his stirrups and stand upside down.
“No, Legolas.” Thranduil said, chuckling despite his destination, “I’ll explain all about gravity when -”
“Look, Ada! We’re HERE!”
Thranduil sighed. “Indeed we are, elfling.”
~*::END CHAPTER 1::*~