Summary: Erestor is the austere Seneschal of Imladris. Glorfindel is the Captain of the Guard and the Warrior of the House of the Golden Flower reborn. The two are as different as night and day. Glorfindel is friend to all; Erestor seems to avoid even Lord Elrond. Glorfindel is adamant to add Erestor is his list of friends and bring the young elf out of his defensive shell. Erestor is just as adamant that no such thing will happen. Yet when Erestor's dark past comes back to haunt him, Glorfindel is the only elf that can help him. Will he accept the help, or will the scars of the past prove more than he can handle? (Ooooo, I just gave myself goose bumps, people. lol)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story, except for the OC's. Everything else belongs to the genius known as Tolkien and his descendants.

A/N: I'm of the opinion that Erestor's personality is sour on the outside while secretly caring on the inside (kind of like sour patch kids candy) and Glorfindel's personality is a sunny one (kind of like chocolate). Both are drastically different, but both are irresistible. If my Erestor or Glorfindel sound or appear like anyone else's please understand I didn't mean to do that. Please don't sue or report me. This is my first story ever, so please be nice.

Artwork: Picture is kindly leant to me by Panicalex.

"Come in." Glorfindel heard through the closed door. He swung the door open and stepped in with ease. While other elves stepped timidly about the dark, young ellon who resided in this room, he stepped confidently. He glanced at the mound of paper work neatly stacked on the desk and on the chair beside it. The Seneschal was overworking himself again, Glorfindel shook his head slightly. He knew he'd been right in stopping here before going to supper. In the recent months, Erestor had taken to skipping out on supper and working right on into the wee hours of the morning. He claimed it was an accident, but Glorfindel knew better.

Erestor glanced up at the tall, blonde ellon before him; the only elf, other than Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian, who didn't fear him. "Can I help you, hir nin?"

Glorfindel gave a barely hidden smile. Erestor was always the stickler for the formal. Wearing official clothing, speaking properly, everything was ceremonial, never an inch of leeway from the rules.

"Yes, yes you can. I came to seek your advice about a friend of mine. I believe he needs my help, but I can't seem to figure out what to do."

"Indeed," Erestor set his quill down, giving Glorfindel all his attention.

"Yes," here's where Glorfindel knew things would get sour, "You see, this elf has a tendency to overwork himself, even to the point of exhaustion. Recently, he's been skipping meals. I was wondering if you could help me with this problem, Erestor."

Erestor's eyes flickered with annoyance. "I don't need you to watch over me, hir nin. I'm perfectly capable of watching over myself."

Never let it be said that Erestor was dense. "Of course, but still a friend can only wonder."

"Friend?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't aware we were friends, hir nin."

That stung. Glorfindel believed they were friends, if only just, but then Erestor had a way of pushing everyone away. As if he was afraid to get close to anyone. Glorfindel had never been able to find out the true reason for the self imposed isolation. And when he'd asked Elrond about it the lord had said it was Erestor's decision to tell the story to him if he so chose.

"We are, and, as a friend, I'm concerned for you."

"No need to be," Erestor picked up the quill again. Glorfindel laid a hand on his arm. Images of other hands, men's hands, grabbing him and rough laughter sprang up in Erestor's mind. He could hear his screams. Hear his people's screams as they were killed by the foul creatures and their leader. Dark eyes flashed dangerously at the golden elf that had induced these memories. Was it not enough that he dreamed of this every night? Did he now have to endure this during the day?

"Please, mellon nin," Glorfindel pleaded, trying to ignore the deadly glare directed at him.

"If you would please release my hand, I have work to be done, hir nin."

"Erestor…"

"Leave." Erestor wasn't giving him an inch; he'd even dropped the formal 'my lord'. His eyes were as cold and hard as stone itself. His voice was strained as if in anger…or pain. Glorfindel gave a small sigh and let go of the hand he'd held. Erestor barely managed to restrain his sigh of relief. Glorfindel knew that nothing, short of bodily carrying the elf, would get him out of this room tonight.

"Don't stay up too late," he stated as he exited the room.

Erestor gave no reply as he watched the door close behind the ellon. He glared at the door for a full three minutes before going back to the trade papers before him. A few elves glanced in later to check on the Seneschal. The young ellon answered them politely and duteously pored over the documents. Had these brief visitors stayed longer, they would have noticed the slight tremor in the hand that held the quill, or the stiff posture of the body that sat in the seat. As it was, no one stayed long enough to notice these slips.

Elvish Translations:

Mellon nin - my friend