Chapter Text
Dear Glorfindel,
My dearest balrog-slayer. I have missed you greatly in the last few weeks as you have been on patrol. Nothing much has been happening back here in Imladris, save for some mischief by the twins, as per usual. And, as usual, I greatly miss your warmth in our bed, and your pillow is a pale comparison to you. I do not know why I bother writing this letter, as I will never give it to you, but I find it comforts me. Whenever you are on patrol, I get so lonely, despite knowing that you will soon be home. (Although, I will admit that I do worry that you will run into some kind of trouble and never return to me.) I should stop this nonsense and do something productive with my time. But for some reason writing this letter feels as if I am speaking to you, though I wish that any moment now I will feel your arms around me and hear your voice in my ear. What I wouldn't give to feel your warmth around me and breath in your perfect essence, my golden warrior. I know I should destroy these stupid letters before someone finds them, but I find I can't, for it feels like a secret link to you. Also, I have forgotten where I have hidden them all, and tearing our rooms apart looking for them will let you know that something is up. These kinds of things rarely get by you, though I often forget how smart you are.
Anyway, I am rambling. I know I should get to bed, but I do not look forward to the long, cold, lonely night ahead of me without your presence.
I shall see you soon, and though you will never see this letter, I hope you know how much I love you and miss you when you are not in my arms.
Your awaiting husband,
Erestor
*
Glorfindel smiled down at the parchment he had found going through his wardrobe looking for some tunic now forgotten, tucked into the corner. It filled him with warmth that Erestor missed him so when he was gone, knowing that he felt the same way. Tucking the parchment away in his tunic, he looked forward to unearthing more of these precious notes that Erestor had hidden away in their rooms.
Who knows, maybe he would even write one in return for his husband to find.