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Your Pillow Smells Like Lavender

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he sun had not yet begun to rise when Glorfindel awoke, the soft grey light of pre-dawn dimly lighting the room.

As he slowly came to, he came to the realisation that he was in fact, alone. Erestor’s side of the bed was cold, his lover having long left their room.

Confused, Glorfindel sat up, icy dread beginning to gnaw at his bones. He hated being alone, he couldn’t be alone. Not again. Erestor would not have left him, he couldn’t have. Glorfindel knew that he was being ridiculous, that he was just being anxious, but it was a fear he could not control.

The Halls of Mandos had left him with a fear of the cold, of the dark.


Of being alone again.


 That was when he spotted the note on the bedside table, along with a small bouquet of lavender. The smell of which had always calmed him when he could not control the fear that would often overtake him.

After gaining his composure, he reached for the note and the lavender, the smell immediately soothing him as he opened the folded slip of paper.



I had to leave before light to finish up some paperwork and preparation before the Lothlorien delegation arrives in tomorrow. I know you have today free, so I would rather spend it with you than shut in my office.

I hope you don’t awaken before I return, but if you do, I hope I did not worry you too much. But I left the lavender if you do, and I will be back before the sun is up.  



 Glorfindel smiled to himself as he placed it back on the table, breathing in the scent of flowers once more before placing those down too. He knew he had overreacted, but all was well now.

Falling back into the pillows, he rolled over to Erestor’s side to fall asleep to the lingering presence of him before he would return.

 One final thought passed through Glorfindel’s mind as he slipped back to sleep, calm once more.


“Your pillow smells like lavender.”