Erestor is an obsessive-compulsive know-it-all! (_erestor_) wrote in unfinished_logs, @ 2010-01-26 22:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | boromir, erestor, glorfindel |
Personal stakes do tend to make people nervous, even when they should know better.
Who: Boromir, Erestor, Glorfindel
Where: Rivendell.
What: A little debate, a little wine, a little conversation about Gondor and family...a little 'how to make a chief advisor's elvish ears turn red.' Ha ha!
When: BACKLOG - just after the Council of Elrond, before the Fellowship set out for Mordor.
Rating: G? PG-ish? Its pretty tame, but no less humorous for what was implied. XD
In the great room of the Last Homely House, there are two elves having a 'debate.' To be more precise, its a one-sided debate since the other individual involved seems far too amused to be engaged in anything but good natured teasing.
"You could have told me that I left the bookmarker in my hair," said the dark haired elf, who was standing stick-straight upright, with the offensive bookmarker held in one hand like it is the focus of some large trial and the defendant is being held in contempt.
"But you look so pretty with your lavender ribbons in your hair," said the other one with a ear-to-ear grin of massive proportions, and a dismissive toss of his golden hair.
"It is not lavender, it is MAUVE," and the way it was pronounced was elongated to "maooow-ve.'
"Either way, everyone at the meeting looked at you like you were the prettiest elven maiden they ever did see, except for that one little hobbit that was eyeing me like he was in awe." At this, Glorfindel paused, and then shrugged in a somewhat un-elfly manner. "I can't say I blame him. I am pretty."
Erestor wasted no time trying to use the mauve bookmarker - that which was mistakenly left in his hair since he was late to the council meeting - as a makeshift whip to smack Glorfindel in the face with.
Wait a second. That elf had been male? It was so hard to tell gender with these people unless they were given to walking around in really low cut robes. Boromir supposed it had something to do with having a ruler who walked around in what seemed to be his daughter's nightgowns really. It wasn't that he'd meant to eavesdrop, not exactly anyway, more that he had been wandering around, avoiding the so called king of Gondor after his little performance at the council. Because really. On top of the part where he couldn't conceive of such a thing still, there was also the factor of possible new boss and looking bad in front of him. Just...no. He did pause outside the door now though. The argument was entertaining and he was nosy, what could he say?
Smack smack went the ribbon...err...bookmarker. Although it was far too delicate a smack sound, it might as well be a thwip thwip sound. Either way, Glorfindel put up with being pelted on like he'd offended a gnat for but a minute longer, then took hold of the ribbon. As Erestor looked ready to huff in disgust and go back to the library, Glofindel swiftly took hold of him, held him in place with one arm, and one-handedly tied the ribbon into the struggling elf's hair. There was a huge smooch involved, which was followed by a slap and one thrown down and stomped on...bookmarker.
"And they say chief counselors shouldn't have tempers," Glorfindel noted, with the pink imprint of a hand on the side of his face.
"...elven barbarian."
Even if he was known for being polite, it wasn't the case around Glorfindel. He turned to leave with that as a parting shot, heading toward the door that someone was probably waiting behind.
All right...what in the HELL was going on in there? (Okay, so not exactly "Hell" but the concept still existed to some extent, even if Middle Earth didn't exactly have a convenient metaphor to describe it) . Elvish brutality? Boromir was pretty sure from lessons that they weren't exactly limited to the light thwip style of fighting, but maybe that was different among... His eyes widened as a few possibilities occured to him here. And then...the rest of it...Oh DEFINITELY lover's spat. In spite of himself, Boromir found himself snickering, even knowing they'd probably hear.
Erestor lobbed one glare back at an already laughing Glorfindel, then reached for the door and opened it. If he'd been any normal person in a huff, there would have been some abrupt stomping through which would have resulted in a collision with the person behind the door. But the advisor's robes made it impossible to ever be in any sort of rush, they were long, black, and billowy...and rushes meant tripping. Somehow, Erestor had never tripped. Ever. And that was because he moved at the approximate pace of those sluggish mossy haired beasts which lived in the trees in the Far, Far Harad, having three clawed toes and a metabolism which probably took three-to-six months to simply think about digesting anything.
His eyes widened as he remembered that this was that man from Gondor that had so effectively taken the floor and thus CONTROL over the meeting, before. Before he could open his mouth to give the man an appropriate greeting and explanation - no telling how long he'd been standing there listening to this fiasco - Glorfindel had butted in.
"I believe that I spy someone who should have named the council meeting after himself!" said Glorfindel, with a tactless point of a finger toward Boromir of Gondor. Accompanied with a bright smile of joy at the situation, and also the incredibly steamed red flush on Erestor's face.
"...tact," Erestor hissed under his breath, and smiled at Boromir. Even if his teeth were gnashing just a wee bit.
"In my own mind, I think it may be still." Boromir joked, flashing a bright smile. Since the whole eavesdropping bit had not come up yet, he wasn't going to introduce it into the conversation. If no one expected an apology, then he wasn't going to worry about delivering one. There were about a million more serious ways to offend someone and as no one was bleeding and no secret elf business had been going on, aside whatever tryst they'd had, he was content enough to leave that alone. "I cannot say that I think it will be very popular with everyone else present, but well, a man should have delusions of power at some point in his life. It's good for him. Or very bad but getting over it shapes character." Something like that anyway.
Glorfindel laughed outright at that, like he was most amused. With the simple wave of one hand, it was as though he'd dismissed the entire matter. This didn't mean he wasn't going to joke about it or not mention it, even when he was in Valinor. Simply to get Lord Elrond's proverbial goat and annoy Erestor because of his apparent lack of tact.
Erestor, on the other hand, looked momentarily perplexed, and as though he was absorbing and filing away every single word that was spoken, or matching it up somehow to everything done or said before at the council. After a long moment of staring, he smiled softly and nodded, like he understood it was being meant in jest. Whereas Glorfindel the Idiotic was still chuckling about it, it was Erestor who spoke in a much more sedate and polite tone of voice. Not to mention, it didn't have any finger pointing either.
"Everyone has their moments, Lord Boromir, even those amongst the eldar. No offense was taken, for it was I too who suggested another road to be taken for the ring, which was not the road ultimately chosen. If you have the time to spare, I would like to hear of Gondor. That is, of course, if we do not have Glorfindel's musical laughter as the backdrop to conversation."
It was, in a sense, his way of really getting a better look at Boromir after that meeting. Not for the sake of spying, but more out of his own curiosity. It was also very difficult to ask dwarves about their histories and such, as they were all too busy sucking down multiple mugs of ale and belching a lot.
Boromir hadn't thought it was as funny as all that. Amusing, sure, but not to the extent that it was being taken now. Actually, he was starting to doubt Glorfindel's sanity, even if he wasn't the one who had worn a dark pink..er 'bookmark' to the council.
"I have many moments I am told. A terrible habit sometimes, but overall, I've found it serves me fairly well. And so you did." he agreed, giving Erestor a nod. "As for now, I seem to have nothing but time. I'd welcome such a conversation." It struck him that Faramir would likely have been more at home with Erestor, and for a moment, felt a stab of guilt that he had been the one to claim this quest. But on the other hand, thinking of his arrival, well, there was no way he would have wished his brother to be exposed to the harder parts of the journey, and so the moment passed quickly enough.
Glorfindel ended his chuckle-fest with one last guffaw, then shook his head. Conversation simply wasn't as fun for him, as action. And by the looks of it, the man from Gondor probably had some things to get off his chest. He certainly wasn't as qualified as Erestor was in that capacity, since Erestor had the daunting task of listening to one of Arda's wisest talk about personal matters and histories and such...for years on end.
"For what it is worth, Boromir, I enjoyed the meeting. You stirred up things before I could," Glorfindel told him and then nodded to Erestor with a cheeky smile on his face. "I'll just go target practice with my spears."
"No targets anywhere near the walls of the house," responded Erestor, and then squinted at Glorfindel until he was out of their sight. The squint instantly disappeared and Erestor wasted no time explaining. "You'll have to forgive anything you might have overheard, Lord Boromir. You would think he'd have taken a more fatherly role or that of a mentor, but oft it seems the table has been turned there, and I am the one left to chastise him. Shall we go to my study or would you be more comfortable elsewhere?"
It did sound rather like how Boromir had spent some of his younger years actually. And how he spent his older ones trying to keep his soldiers from doing the same things. It wasn't any sort of action he was unfamiliar with, on either side of the scale. "Sometimes I think my younger brother may feel the same way about me." He confessed with a little grin. "Something about climbing the city walls being far too dangerous and encouraging the young people to do the same thing. But really, as I told him, it is still perfectly safe. These things sort themselves out strangely sometimes, don't they? Oh that sounds fine." he added to the study suggestion.
A soft smile and a nod, as Erestor began to lead them down a small corridor at a pace that a turtle could keep up with. He was obviously never in any sort of rush.
"Ah, so you are more like Glorfindel, yet without such high spirits. You looked troubled, when you mention your brother. No doubt that you must be worried over their welfare, since it has been a long journey for you." It made sense to him now, the outburst at the meeting. He opened the door and entered into a small room that was floor-to-ceiling shoved full of books and scrolls and maps. Even if it was a bit cramped and only had one window, it was still incredibly NEAT. Everything was in order. He offered a chair to Boromir by patting his fingers lightly upon it as he passed by to sit down behind the desk. "I'm interested in your city and people of that land, as I would most enjoy writing such things down. The days of the elves are growing short, so having such notes to take with me, would be a boon. Would you care for some wine?"
It was rude not to offer, when one was about to pour themselves a cup. Eyedart.
"Do I, still?" Boromir asked, though he supposed he shouldn't be so surprised that such a thing showed on him so easily. People often remarked that when it came to Faramir, they could easily detect his weakness there, even if he managed to cover up, and blunder his way through most of the rest of it. "Well, Faramir and all my people yes." He said, taking the seat, and nodding at the offer of wine. "Thank you. It's Faramir who really should be the one to tell you such things, Doubtless he knows more of the details of our history where my finer points are, well, a bit more military in their nature. Still, we don't spend all our lives jousting with the shadows, so I'll see what I can do for you."
A smile and wine was poured and placed near him, on the desk.
"If it had not been the case, your concern for your family and people, you would have been more willing to agree with what everyone else at the meeting had been saying. There is no ill will, and if you did manage to get onto Lord Elrond's bad side, so to speak, then I'll inform him that such troubles weighed heavily upon you. It is not as though Lord Elrond hasn't had troubles weigh upon him, either."
Erestor took one long, slow sip of his own wine, before setting the cup down. Ah, Dorwinion. At least this season, Thranduil saw fit to SHARE. He opened up a journal and took up a quill.
"If I could meet your brother, Lord Faramir, that would be most entertaining. But as things are somewhat...uncertain...I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you with such questions. Now, your city of Minas Tirith. Does it at all resemble that of the Minas Tirith of the First Age, or was its design entirely different? I'd always wondered, since I haven't seen it myself. Is it more military or otherwise?"
Boromir nodded at this. And well, having passed some time in Rohan on his journey here, he'd noticed their problems as well, and knew enough that thinking of asking for their aid was, well, not so likely to be fruitful since they had their own problems to deal with and issues to consider. "I admit that after having fought it for so long, my thoughts only turn to, well, the direct challenge." It was, after all, what Boromir knew best. "I've found it difficult to think that there may be another way still..." And as for the question, that was easily enough answered, as he launched into a description of the city. And the wine, when he sipped it, was excellent.
"It is the sign of an educated mind to look at things from different directions, as oft the direct route is not the best route," said Erestor in a low and softened tone of voice, as he neatly wrote down what was said. His quill was swift, indeed. "You expect Sauron to take the direct route, and perhaps might fear that your city and people can not withstand the onslaught. There is yet time though. But I fear merely telling you so, will not set your mind at ease."
"Hardly." Boromir agreed with a small sigh. "Or rather, I could understand the logic of it if I were not so close to things." The writing? Very fast indeed. "Personal stakes do tend to make people nervous, even when they should know better. I would hope that this course of things will do some good still."
This elf lived by the motto that the quill was mightier than the sword!
"I have hope that it will." Erestor put the quill in its proper place and let the page dry, while taking another looooong sip of wine and appearing to contemplate several different situations at once. "It would be much akin to if Rivendell was to be seiged, and not knowing if the outcome would be a fair one or one that would take a dire turn for the worst. Even I know, that though we have several very skilled warriors, we could not defend our own selves, and would have to rely more on trickery and other means, to keep ourselves hidden. Is that not, though, the very nature of a journey into Mordor? Subterfuge?"
"So it is." Boromir grinned a little. "Naturally, I see why we've arrived at this decision, given where we are." Then he winked, to indicate that it was, mostly, a joke. The plan seemed, well, not the best one to him but... "If it can be done, of course, I'll be forced to take all of my reservations back. ...Which for all of our sakes, I hope I am." Even if it meant a small loss of pride, better that be wounded than anyone fall to Sauron.
Erestor stared at the winking fellow with large, blinking dark eyes, then smiled and nodded just a little bit. He had gotten a point across at least, and he was glad for it, for it seemed to lift some of the burden off the man's shoulders...if only for a small while. There was little doubt in his mind that the burden would return, and might even be heavier.
"It is, perhaps, the reason why you are not able to storm the gates, and destroy the Ring outright. With Sauron, it would never be in anyone's favor to do that...he perhaps took notes of those sneaking into Angband...and he has a great fondness for trickery," the advisor said in a softened and thoughtful tone of voice, as though musing aloud. "It was, in retrospect, a good decision, but it is no less dangerous. You have your people to protect also, so one must wonder...what you will do, or if you will part ways with the company you keep. Or even if Estel will join you. He is most commited to things, once he sets his mind on them."
Ah yes, the king. Well, if he was truly the king, something that Boromir still doubted in his way, for leaders lead by action, and not name, in his book, then he would be needed when they parted ways as Boromir still intended to do. "That does put me at ease concerning him a little. I admit that..." Boromir paused, trying to find words that wouldn't be considered too offensive. "Well, he's taken me by surprise, I can say that much. But if he does come, it could ease our pains considerably." With Mordor at least. Inside the city? Boromir was not so sure what that outcome may be. And wasn't sure he liked to contemplate the social chaos it might bring.
"He does tend to have that sort of polarizing effect, though I am fond of Estel also, for I knew him when he was young and first came here. He is, perhaps, Lord Elrond's joy and one of his greatest sorrows...but that is another matter, for it involves a lovely maiden of whom we are all incredibly fond of, and care for greatly." He was watching Boromir very closely now, but it wasn't unkind in the least. His face remained relaxed and even a little solemn, he appeared to chose his words carefully before saying anything aloud. "For every ending there is a beginning. If one gate shuts, another one opens. It is up to you, if you would decide to walk through the gate, or to try to turn around and pound your fists against that which is closed behind you. Indeed, this will bring change, but it is, perhaps much like the journey to destroy the ring, not as bad as it might seem. It is meant to be, and not you, or I, nor Lord Elrond...have the power to stop it. Though some might try, but...it will depend on the circumstances."
Another pause and a long sip of wine, before Erestor joked in a light but wry voice, "And this is why it is said to not go to the elves for counsel, for we say both no and yes."
"Ahah." There WOULD be a girl involved somewhere, to make it a properly interesting story. Convenient for Aragorn then, that there already was one present and no one needed to make one up later on. A bit boring for the bards of later ages, if Middle Earth would have them, but it would, in the long run, make things far easier. "You sound like Faramir again." Boromir said at the last bit, "Always with the wisdom that I may not wish to hear that I still have to face. But no beating me over the head about it either. I can appreciate it. Though, I don't much like the idea that there is something I don't control."
"No one ever does, not even those who have dwelled long under the eaves of this house," was the patient response. "I am likely a poor and temporary substitute for your brother. My condolences, but at least you aren't left with a golden haired monstrosity as your only official family to speak of. Would you care for more wine?"
Erestor held up the bottle in further inquiry, ready to pour...himself a second cup.
Boromir decided that he liked this elf. Especially with the wine, and again nodded for more. "Not so poor a substitute, as temporary as you are." he said, "And that? Would possibly scar me for life. How DID the two of you manage to.." How to delicately phrase this, "...ah...come to your...arrangement?"
The wine was poured first into Boromir's cup, and then into Erestor's own, but he was staring at Boromir as though he'd laid out some complex riddle that had him utterly mind boggled. And that, in itself, would have been a mighty feat.
"...arrangement?"
"The two of you ah...." Boromir flushed a little now, not sure if he should have gone entirely there. "In Minas Tirith we do not..ah...form partnerships with those of the same gender, usually. I'm sure that to an elf, it makes no difference. Your people seem alike in almost everything, the scholars say, but still...curiosity of course, well it compells..."
Erestor's cup overfloweth. Literally. He caught himself with a high-pitched yelp, and put the bottle down, reaching for a towel to clean off the desk before the wine leaked onto any of his scrolls.
His face turned red, almost to the tips of his ears. He coughed softly. Once, twice, and then spoke in a tone and pitch that was much higher than his previously softened speaking voice, "I fear that you misconstrue...I was an orphaned elfling and Glorfindel took me under his wing...and he is a terrible parent."
That second cup of wine was gone in an instant, so swiftly did Erestor drink it.
"You..." Now it was Boromir's turn to go even redder and to just sit there staring at Erestor for a long moment then... "Oh dear....I'm so sorry. I had thought...your lover's tift when I walked by..." Now he felt sort of like dying. Could he stab himself with that pen if it was so much more effective than the sword. "And also, my sympathies for that."
The pitch went a octave higher, "Its quite all right. No harm done." He was also pouring himself a third cup of Dorwinion since that second cup just hadn't cut it. In fact, he was topping off Boromir's cup too with the last of the bottle. Apparently they BOTH needed more liquor. "I suppose, to look upon it from where you had been standing, it would have...seemed as though..."
He downed his wine just as swiftly as before and steadied himself, took one deep breath, then was back to being calm, cool, collected and...pink-eared. He shuddered a little before continuing.
"Glorfindel is a thorn in my side, and it was Lord Elrond who taught me much of what I now know. It was after the fall of Eregion, which was where my family lived...and, uhm...tales of Glorfindel's glory, I will tell you, are overblown. Certainly, he's a great warrior. But we have no...prior...such relations. If only I had met the right maiden, I would have chosen to...bond...with her...but unfortunately, none have caught my attention."
Because his nose is shoved in books or he's too busy taking care of other people's problems, instead of his own. Ooops, we mean he's busy a lot. Yes, of course, that's it. And there goes that second bottle of wine, being opened up.
After something such as that? They did indeed. Boromir attempted not to try crawling into a hole on the floor and dying then and there, since it wouldn't do to leave Gondor in such dire straits over something so simple. "It, well...yes..." he admitted, squirming a bit. This was a bad time to say that he was surprised at first that Erestor was male, so...he kept his mouth shut there. It was the hair ribbon, and the nagging argument and the kissing noises. "Are they now? Interesting. To hear some people tell it...well, I'm sure you would have seen all those accounts already, so I needn't go into the details. He really isn't...what I would have expected."
"No, he's not. He's boastful, loud, obnoxious, rude, laughs too much, talks too much, is messy and irritating. He does have his better qualities, but they are shown in moments which are few and far between." He rubbed the fingers of one hand over his forehead and sighed almost silently. "That was embarrassing, and yes...I do understand how it could have been viewed that way. But I would sooner wed the balrog that caused Glorfindel's death, than to ever do anything with Glorfindel. As for the bookmarker, its a bad habit of mine when I'm arranging books, to tie my hair back with them. Occasionally I'm so caught up in details, that I forget to remove it."
It was then that Erestor looked -almost- concerned.
"I do hope that I do not resemble some elven maiden." As soon as the words were spoken, the elf seemed to take on a pin-point stare that was akin to that which most tutors had when the student was in danger of giving the WRONG ANSWER. It was the same look that both twins and Arwen had gotten, during history lessons.
And it was a look that was making Boromir squirm uncomfortably. He wasn't sure whether you lied or told the truth when teachers looked at you like that. He had never quite worked out exactly what they wanted you to say during this sort of thing... "Ah..." Squirm, squirm. "With the bookmarker removed, no." And he was careful to say bookmarker, instead of ribbon like he really wanted to. Bookmarker. Really. It was a bookmarker.
That's right it was a bookmarker. Every single mauve bookmarker sticking out of all the books on the shelves around them, seemed to be staring down at him at the same time. A small speck of dust skipped merrily through a beam of light shining in through the window. Erestor paused in his scholarly scrutiny to pinch the dust between his thumb and forefinger, then wipe his hand off on the towel that he'd cleaned up the wine with.
That done, he folded his hands together on top of the desk and smiled in a supremely gentle way, which softened all of his features again and made him seem most benign.
"Thank you, Lord Boromir. I'm glad to hear as much and I'll remember at some point, to remove it. Especially before meetings. Now, you mentioned your brother...but...do you not also have a father as well? I seem to recall Mithrandir speaking about Lord Denethor of Minas Tirith, sometime in the past. Is he faring well, despite circumstance?"
That was a lot of bookmarkers right there. And they all, for some reason, seemed offended now. Boromir couldn't recall offending anything inanimate before. Well, he'd referred to his men's weapons as pathetic, but that had been more about their current condition, and not so much a statement about what they could be used for. It would likely serve him right if they came back to haunt him in his sleep tonight.
"Indeed my father is.." How did you describe Denethor's current state? His father was still capable of ruling, and still vital, but it was starting to seem as if..."More distant the last I saw of him, perhaps." He said at length, "And as to now...I'd hope the same."
"Leaders are constantly tested and burdened, that is more a true test than blade or shield...if Aragorn were to fall, and Minas Tirith to stand after the dust of war has settled...even if your father is not there to help rebuild...if there is much left to rebuild, all things depending...." Erestor took a moment to think of what he was saying and how to put it as gently as possible. He frowned, as - even to him - it seemed as though there wasn't any nice or gentle way to put it. "Well. There is no doubt in my mind, for you care deeply for your people. But are you ready to lead them, even if your city is beyond repair?"
Though Erestor's expression was one of gentle curiosity, his head tilted to one side a little as he patiently waited for an answer...every single bookmarker in the place, seemed to stare accusingly at Boromir. Think quick!
Well, Boromir had been trained to that task, and, much as he worried he would not be ready and would do the wrong things when Gondor came to his protection, there was still one thing he knew. "I must be." He answered Erestor, and ignored the accusing bookmarks. "I owe all of them that. I think, strange as it sounds, that knowing it will help me not to fail." And, if need arose, there were always plans in store.
"That was a wise response, Lord Boromir. I didn't wish to cause you any despair to think on it, but...my curiosity on the matter dictated that I inquired." Erestor smiled and nodded, turned the page of his journal and jotted down a few more things with a speed that made the tip of the quill appear to blur. "I do hope it will not come to that, but you've managed to convince me that you are suited for the task should that fateful day arrive. If I didn't have second thoughts of traveling outside of Imladris...then I'd go and see your city with my own eyes. Perhaps I might, if there is a happy ending to the tale that's forming around us."
But as it was, Erestor had never once left Rivendell. It was outside of his comfort zone, and places like Gondor and Rohan or Bilbo's Shire were too far away. Riding a horse was out of the question.
"My mother always tried to believe that would be our fate." Boromir mused, smiling as he remembered that now. "A happy ending and an end to war." He wished sometimes, that he could fully do the same. "I think in light of that, that I must tell you I will be happy to welcome you there when things come to a close in our, however they choose to do that." That at least was something to hold onto now. A concrete goal, and when he had those, it was easier to push aside thoughts of defeat.
The elf looked delighted. He was, inwardly, trying to squash down any doubts he had also. Be it the outcome OR leaving Rivendell's relative safety for any extended length of time. As it was, he wasn't even sure he'd enjoy SAILING, since he'd never been on a boat, either.
"I will look forward to meeting your father and brother, certainly. The invitation is most heartily accepted." Minas Tirith DID have a library, and thus Erestor thought to himself that any place that had books, was going to make it a safe place to visit, because BOOKS NEVER HURT ANYTHING. Well, some books were enough to rot the brains right out of intellectuals, but those books were also a good read...he's not getting into that, really. Eyedart. "I'll bring some gifts for your libraries, should our paths cross again. I'll finish the book of drakes I'd been working on, but had to set aside. Perhaps a few others."
These were code words for 'expect a cart full of books that I can't take with me, but I'd like to leave behind in case they might be handy.'
"Our archivist will be most pleased by that." Boromir grinned. "Any way to preserve...just about anything, really, is always looked for." And he was sure that Faramir would be delighted to meet Erestor, and Denethor too, for that matter. A Denethor not consumed by the business of the war much longer. It was an amazing thought.
"That would be lovely and I..." His eyes closed at the loud kerTHUNK of something large, long, and with a sharp pointed end, likely being lodged into the walls of the house. "...I'm going to strangle a balrog slayer."
"...MY AIM WAS NOT TRUE!" so says the voice from outside the window.
"RUN, WHILE YOU STILL CAN, GONDORIAN! YOUR EARS WILL FALL OFF IF YOU REMAIN IN THAT STUDY!" so says the voice again, this time closer to the window.
"Perhaps I'd better take him up on that." Boromir said, as he rose. "Thank you for the conversation, and the wine. It was most enlightening." A part of him wanted to watch the events unfolding, but on the other hand...best not to get involved.
Erestor stood up as well, the epitome of calm elvish aloofness and politeness. He was already grabbing for an empty wine bottle, having no rulers nearby with which to properly smack Glorfindel with.
"Indeed, I could talk throughout the night, but you likely need your rest. It was very pleasant, thank you. I hope we have another opportunity to speak again." He turned toward the window, opened it partway, and threw the bottle out. It landed with a satisfying thud atop someone's skull, and a whole lot of elvish cursing ensued. The window was shut and Erestor looked SUPREMELY PLEASED like his entire day had purpose and meaning. "I'm arranging a feast before you all depart, so I hope to see you there also. I'll even make Glorfindel wear a bib. Good eve, Lord Boromir."
It was about that moment, as he was saying goodnight and witnessing this aftermath, that Boromir decided he had better go ahead with keeping count of which one of them managed to annoy the other one and when. So far, he had things as nearly even, with Erestor edging just about on top after the bottle incident. Somehow, that was strangely satisfying...
Seeing as how Glorfindel was not just a warrior but could be stealthy, it was certain that there would be revenge, and things would inevitably be balanced out and very even, later on. After all, Erestor did prize physical possessions (being a bit of a scholarly packrat) and Glorfindel didn't...so that meant that he did get thwapped smacked and bonked a lot. But Erestor's belongings were going to get destroyed.
Nevertheless, this elf is gloating and smiling as Boromir was leaving. So all is right - momentarily - with the world.