Nornorin (Glorfindel Fanfiction)

Glorfindel is fat

I stayed back at the deserted library for a little bit more time after their exit before leaving myself. My feet carried me to the kitchen for some snacks.

As I looked around the usually busy kitchen, I asked one of the ellon who stayed behind who were busy moulding a dough in his hands.

"Hello, Arondir," I greeted, and the elf smiled at me before turning his focus back at his work.

"Oranges are in the basket, top shelf, next to the bananas," he supplied knowingly.

"Thank you," I beamed as I took one from the pile. "Where is everyone?"

"At the training grounds, they left just now since the moment they hear that one of the twins is participating in the weekly game. It is apparently entertaining to watch," Arondir muttered as he folded a big mound of dough and sprinkled it with some flour, "They'll be back soon though. The kitchen doesn't run itself."

"If it's so interesting, then why are you not out there?"

"I do not find violence entertaining," he said as he pounded his fist to the dough a couple times, and with expert fold it some more and gently slapped it across the table."

"I'm sure that dough shared your opinion right now," I commented nonchalantly.

That got the quiet elf to smile. "This is necessary violence. This dough sacrificed itself so you can eat it, Miss Elena."

"Alright, nice, nice," I grinned. "In that case, I'm going to see what everyone is talking about. Have fun with the match yourself, Arondir."

"Get out of here," he chuckled.

After few minutes walk, sure enough, at the training grounds, there were already quite a crowd gathered. The member of the guards with Glorfindel standing tall amongst them, obviously. Some of the fighters were standing in their shirtless glory, and I thanked all shirtless gods for leading me to this sweaty place in Summer. Unfortunately, the one other person whom I would like to see shirtless, Glorfindel, still kept that expensive shirt he had on. So I prayed once again to the shirtless gods for a sneak peak at the stoic elf's physique.

There were also many office staff members, high officials, including Lord Elrond who was talking with one of the twin (I don't know which is who), his advisor and my own case manager while watching the game. Then, there were also folks from the kitchen nearby, talking amongst themselves while some even still had their apron on.

I found myself a good grassy spot to sit on my own, where I don't have to make small talks with people whose facial expressions I barely can read, while being able to see one shirtless twin, being sweaty and (I hate to say this– sexy) as he fought another handsome shirtless elf who looked less muscular than the twin, yet not less deadly looking.

The sounds of blades clinking against each other, with people cheering and sighing and debating the on going match created a lively atmosphere in the training grounds, where I usually found depressing and intimidating as it was usually filled with somber looking elven soldiers who marched around in perfect coordination, clad in silver armor without souls. Just like their boss.

Sitting here, watching the elves fought a friendly match, I turned to my orange. I pressed my lip together as my right wrist flared at the simple task of peeling an orange.

Someone took my orange away without asking and I yelped, "Hey!" I protested. When I looked up, it was one of the fully clothed twin, who apparently left his father's side just to annoy me with that smirk. "That's mine, get one yourself," I protested as he began peel my orange.

"Relax, kitten. I'm only helping you peeling it," he snickered, then bent down to give me back my orange.

"Thanks. Which one are you by the way?" I asked as I broke the orange and gave him my half. He accepted it and began munching.