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Crimson Feather and Golden Hair

Summary:

Keigo was battling a villain with a portal quirk when he was knocked out and awoke in a strange place filled with beautiful people. He did not recognize the language, the style of dress or the city, and they seemed to be very technology averse and had no visible quirks. This was just another country, right? ...Right?

Chapter 1

Summary:

I don't know if I'll finish this. I have the second chapter written out, so I'll either put it up for adoption after I post that, write more and accidentally turn it into a really long fic, or write a little to finish it and make it a shortfic.

Chapter Text

Keigo groaned as he slowly came back to consciousness, his eyes slowly cracking open. All he saw was a green blue for a moment, then his nictitating membranes slid across his eyes and cleared them again before retreating. His visor was cracked in many places, so that wasn't helping his eyesight either. He pulled them off, taking a proper look around.

He was in... A forest. With a grunt, he pushed himself up and ran his hands down his body. The last thing he remembered was battling a villain with a portal quirk, so he'd probably been teleported someplace else. Well, no matter. He was the fastest hero alive - he could make it back to Japan quickly.

He stood shakily, spreading his wings. Then he immediately stopped, grasping his right wing with a gasp. Eyes squeezing shut for a moment, he ducked in a few shallow, painted breaths, then opened his eyes against and ran his hand over the wing. The main bone of his wing was broken badly, ridges of bone poking his skin and sending sharp pangs of pain through him when he touched it lightly. Keigo let out another shuddering breath, extending and closing his other wing to make sure that it wasn't injured.

Well. This was worse than he'd assumed. At least neither of his legs was hurt - then he'd be completely stuffed. Keigo tossed his visor into his pocket and reached for his comm, pressing it into his ear.

"The villain with the portal quirk has sent me to an unknown location and my wing is broken. I need assistance," he said, and received no answer. He frowned and pressed again, but just got static. "Hello?"

Nobody answered. Usually, the hero commission would respond within seconds with a sort, succinct answer. That meant his comm was broken.

This situation just kept on getting worse, didn't it?

Keigo narrowed his eyes at his surroundings, slipping his comm back into his pocket and looking around. He could hear a stream not too far off, so if he followed that then he should come across civilisation eventually, right?

Well, there was no need to walk all that way. He found his way to the stream, then lowered himself beside it and detached a few red feathers from his left wing. After a moment of hovering, they each shot off in a different direction and he closed his eyes to focus on them. It took about five minutes, but one found a town, the idle chatter of people sending vibrations into the feather.

Now he knew what way to go, and he just had to go there. But his feather moved much faster than he would, and five minutes for the feather would surely be much longer for him. Keigo pursed his lips, then glanced around. This place seemed peaceful enough. He'd sleep in a tree tonight - though it wasn't exactly night yet, but he was tired. Sue him - then head to the town tomorrow.

He climbed into a great oak tree with much difficulty, his wing hanging limply behind him. After a while he detached all his feathers aside from the tiny pin feathers from that one, making it much smaller and less likely to bump on things. Curling up on the branch, he scattered his feathers around under the tree to warn him of danger, then fell asleep easily.

He was startled awake by the feeling of a soft finger brushing over one of his feathers. He snapped into combat mode, then realised the feeling was coming from the feather in the town. The person picked his feather up and he shivered at the feeling. A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips and he lifted the feather, tugging it out of the person's hands and making it hover. An inhaled breath sent vibrations across his feather and his smirk widened.

He pulled the feather a little closer - not too far, just enough so that whoever it was would follow. There was no way for him to exactly tell if they were following without going back to touch them, but he pulled it closer again anyways. Then he hovered it in the air, and sent it back. It encountered a breathing wall not too far back, so the person was indeed following.

Keigo lifted a gloved hand to his mouth, chuckling a little, and pulled the feather back slowly. After a few more checks to ensure the person was still following, he sped the feather up a bit. Leaving it to do that, he focused on his other feathers and pulled them back into his injured wing tenderly. It wouldn't be good to great this person without half his feathers, would it?

He sat on the branch he'd been sleeping on, crossing his legs under him as he awaited the return of his feather and the entrance of this new person eagerly. Perhaps they'd have a phone he could call the hero commission with! Last time he went missing without letting them know where he was, they put him through brutal re-training methods. Though he was an adult this time, so maybe they'd hold off?

...Who was he kidding, they'd just go harder because he was supposed to know better.

Whatever. Focus on the present.

His feather swept into sight, darting up to take its place in his wing. A tall, beautiful man with long golden hair followed, eyes set on the feather. The man froze, eyes wide and confused. Keigo also froze for a second - because damn this dude was absolutely smoking hot - but shook it off very quickly.

It was an odd reaction from the pretty man though. Perhaps he knew Keigo from the television? He was the number three hero after all.

"Hi!" he chirped, leaning forward.

The man responded in a language he didn't recognise. Keigo frowned, trying English next. Nothing. Well, the hero commission hadn't drilled all those languages into his head for nothing. Next he tried Korean, then Mandarin, then Cantonese, French, German, Dutch, and Russian. Still nothing. He said hello in broken Greek, and when he received no answer he blew out a sigh. He knew very little Greek, so it wouldn't have helped him much if that was what the other man spoke, but it would have been better than nothing.

The other man spoke again, taking a step forward. Keigo frowned at the foreign words, not recognising a single syllable. Great.

With a sigh, he slipped from the tree, wincing when his wing bumped against the ground. A look of concern creased the blond man's face and he stepped forward again, saying something else. Keigo laughed. "I can't understand you," he said.

The man just blinked.

"And you can't understand me, either. I should stop talking, I'm probably confusing you, huh?"

Silence.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

The golden-haired man said something, gesturing towards where the town was.

"You want me to go with you?" Keigo questioned, and received no answer. "Okay, let's go!"

He sauntered forward, discreetly detaching a few of his feathers to scout around them. It wasn't that he didn't trust the golden-haired man, except that was exactly what it was. Despite the fact that normal people wouldn't have noticed him send his feathers off, the man's blue eyes flickered after them for a split second before returning to Keigo. Perhaps that was his quirk? Sharp eyes or something.

"Lead the way," Keigo yawned. The sun was beginning to set now, and he'd gotten only a very short nap.

The golden haired man said something and smiled, turning to walk back. Keigo followed, whistling a tune. He caught the man looking at him and stopped, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Am I annoying you?" he purred, and received - get this - no response. Wow. Mind blowing.

He sighed. "I'm really getting sick of this language barrier," he complained, feathers puffing up. The handsome man focused on his wings, eyes widening just a smidge again. Keigo's smile widened and he feigned nonchalance as he stretched, arms reaching above his head and his uninjured wing reaching out to its full size.

The pretty man's eyes grew even wider. Keigo folded his wing against his back again with a snicker. He wasn't sure why this man seemed so fascinated with his wings, but he'd lean into it as much as he could - drawing awed looks from him was fun.

The sun started to set, sending streaks of pink, orange, yellow and gold across the fluffy clouds. It looked like something out of a painting, honestly. Then the stars started coming out, twinkling in the sky like jewels. Usually he had to fly really high to see them this clearly, so wherever he was must be somewhere without much smog. Or any at all, from how many stars were out...

The golden-haired man led him to a gate, which he knocked on. It was opened quickly, by a woman almost as pretty as the blond guy. Sheesh, was everyone here gorgeous or something? Her eyes widened at the sight of Keigo - what was up with that?? - and she said something to the blond man. Handsome guy replied, and she let them in.

Wow. The city was absolutely breathtaking. It had numerous fountains around, and nature blended seamlessly with he architecture. Vines and rosebushes climbed spires and towers, and every building had many gaping windows to let in sunlight and breeze.

Keigo realised after a moment that he was staring while the pretty man walked away, so he jogged after him, then slowed with a wince. Apparently jogging jolted his wing a little too much. After a moment, he shook it off and sped up to catch up to him anyway.

The handsome man turned around and frowned at him, hands coming up as he said something.

"I can't understand a word you're saying, so I'm going to assume it's about how hot I am," he winked with a chuckle. Goldie's frown deepened, but he turned away and led him towards a particularly large building.

"Where are we going?" Keigo asked, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed after the man. The man said something in that pretty, foreign language that he didn't understand. Keigo huffed, running a hand through his windswept blond hair. Not blond like Goldie's though - blond like wheat.

Looking around, he could see numerous beautiful people staring at him. Everyone here really was pretty, huh? Always one to thrive in attention, he raised a hand to wave at them, receiving a wide-eyed look in return. He muffled a snicker with his hand, yellow eyes forming crescents in mirth. Goldie looked back at him, so he nodded towards the bug-eyed spectators. Goldie huffed a laugh as well, then took his arm gently and led him into the building.

Goldie led him to another ridiculously handsome man, this one with brown hair, and said something. Brownie's eyes widened momentarily, but in a flash his face was impassive again. Impressive control.

Brownie stepped forward, reaching out a hand to Keigo's wing. He hesitated for a second, then decided to take the risk and turned slightly, offering his wing in consent. His feathers fluffed at the sudden contact of Brownie's fingers on his wing, but he smoothed them down again.

Any other time, he would have loved to have hands as gentle as these on his body. When they were softly touching and prodding the break in his wing, though, it absolutely sucked. No matter how light the touch, it sent sharp pains shooting through him.

Brownie said something and led them to an all-white room that looked a bit like a medical room, and made him sit on the bed. Then he grabbed some supplies from a cupboard and frowned at his wing. Keigo decided to make it easier on the man and detached almost all his feathers, again just leaving the pin feathers. He piled the feathers on the bed then slipped his jacket off over the small wing stubs, being careful not to touch it to the injured wing. Left in just his skintight black shirt, he looked up at the pretty men.

Brownie paused at the sight, then nodded and said something to Goldie, who left.

Brownie spread something cool over the break, which soothed the pain, then he gently but quickly moved the bone back into place. Even with the painkilling gel, or whatever it was, it hurt like a bitch. Luckily, Keigo was trained to ignore pain and didn't make a noise. Next, Brownie bandaged and splinted the wing. He wouldn't be able to reattach the feathers until it was healed, but that was fine.

Goldie came back in next, holding a set of robes like he and Brownie were wearing. He handed them to Keigo.

"Not really my style, but thanks," Keigo said, taking them. Next he was handed a pair of scissors and an apologetic look, and Goldie conveyed through a series of gestures that he'd have to cut off his shirt to avoid it aggravating the break. Keigo sighed but nodded, then gesture for them to leave so he could get changed.

They did so with some parting words. Keigo sighed. Now to figure out how to put these weird robes on. Goldie had already cut holes in the back, thankfully. Still, it was far too complicated for his tastes.

Chapter 2

Summary:

I do NOT speak Japanese, so I put Keigo's sentences into a translator, then the translation into a different translator to make sure it was okay. I suppose I cilthave just gone 'he said something in that foreign language' again, but elves are somewhat interested in languages, yeah? So I assumed Glorfindel would have more interest in it and listen closer than Keigo did.

I was planning on finishing it here... Then I realised I hadn't earned that Glorfindel/Takami Keigo tag yet, so there's more yet to come I suppose.

Spellcheck also keeps changing 'takami' to 'tamaki' and I tried to fix it every time but if I missed one, tell me?

Chapter Text

A butterfly fluttered past, it's bright orange wings catching the sun. The warm breeze blew the leaves on the trees softly, making them clink together in a sound reminiscent of light rain. The smell of flowers hung on the fresh air, permeating every room through the open windows. The idle chatter of busy elves was audible from almost every corner of the city, adding to the peaceful air.

Glorfindel breathed it in, walking through the streets of Imladris with a smile twitching at his lips. Though every day here was extraordinarily peaceful, there had not been a day quite like this for a while. A sense of stillness seemed to hang around. It was nice.

He sat down on a seat next to one of the many fountains, sharp elven eyes darting around. Just as he was about to close his eyes to listen to the soft tinkling of the fountain, a striking red caught his eye. It looked to be a feather, though from what bird he was not sure. Glorfindel pushed himself to his feet, his leather boots making very little noise on the stone path. He bent down to pick it up, long golden hair sweeping across the ground.

It was indeed a feather. Its main colour was a vibrant crimson, the shaft a softer red and the quill fading to white like all feathers. He turned it over in his hands with a curious huff of breath, running the pads of his fingers over the soft barbs. It quivered in his soft grip as if alive, but he shrugged it off as the wind.

He was proven incorrect in his assumption as the feather quivered again, then shot from his hand to hover in front of him. Glorfindel let out a shocked exclamation, reaching out to it again. It darted away a few metres, then hovered there as if waiting for him to follow it.

This was probably a horrible idea, but he was very curious. He followed after it as it continued to jolt forward and stop. It came back every once in a while to pat on his chest, as if ensuring he was still present.

As he followed the feather, gaining speed quickly, his curiosity grew. Never in his over seven thousand years had he seen such a thing.

The feather led him through the forest, to the strangest being he had ever laid his eyes upon. The being, seemingly male but he would not presume to assume, was humanoid in body, but with a few glaring discrepancies. For one, on their back was perched two huge, feathered crimson wings, one of which the feather he had been following flew into. The being also had black markings around their yellow eyes, slight fangs, and was wearing the oddest clothing he had seen.

"こんにちは!" The being exclaimed, in a language so entirely foreign to Glorfindel that he was momentarily dumbfounded.

"I am afraid I do not understand you. Do you perhaps speak Westron?" Glorfindel asked. The being frowned, saying things in a variety of different languages - none of which he knew, but could tell they were different due to the sound of them. His fascination grew, as did both his excitement and wariness. There was danger in the unknown, which this being certainly was, but the prospect of so many languages he did not know was incredibly exciting.

 

The being slid from the tree with grace nearing an elf's, then pain flashed across their face and their hand made an aborted movement towards their wing. Glorfindel quickly snapped to attention, taking a step forward. "Your wing is injured," he said softly, brows creasing with concern. "Are you alright.

The being just laughed. "理解できない," they said in that fascinating language.

Glorfindel listened to them speak with awe. He was not the biggest language lover in Imladris, but he had a healthy respect for it. Besides, who could possibly not be intrigued after hearing a completely unknown language when they had thought they had known every language in Arda?

"そして、あなたも私を理解することはできません。話すのをやめたほうがいい、おそらくあなたを混乱させているでしょう," they rambled, those wonderous eyes creasing at the sides with amusement. "ええ、ごめんなさい."

Glorfindel did not speak, letting them finish, then gestured back toward Imladris. "Would you come back with me? We can get your... Ah, wing, fixed there. Lord Elrond is the greatest healer in Arda," he said, even though they would surely not understand.

"一緒に行ってほしいですか?" The being said in a questioning tone of voice. "じゃあ行きましょう!"

The winged being took a step after him, so Glorfindel smiled at them. Then they detached a few feathers from their wings, sending them off to the sides. Glorfindel watched them go, then turned to lead the way.

"先頭に立つ!" they exclaimed, following him with a pep in their step. They started whistling a tune after a while, which he listened to with great enthusiasm. The prospect of a song in a language he did not know was incredibly appealing to him.

They stopped whistling, a wry smirk pulling their lips upwards. "迷惑をかけていますか?" they queried with a huff of laughter. Then, after a moment of silence, their glorious red wings puffed out and an expression of annoyance replaced their smirk.

Glorfindel's eyes caught on the wings and he accidentally tuned out their next words, though he had been trying his best to listen and make out individual words or phrases. He could not help it - the only times he had ever seen wings quite this big were on the great eagles, and those were all the golden eagle colours. He had never seen any quite this vibrant, and definitely not on a person.

The being seemed to catch his fascination, stretching and giving him a show. He would have been embarrassed that he was so obvious if it wasn't for how captivated he was by the sight.

After a moment he shook himself and led them to the gate. It probably was not a very good idea to let this unknown entity into Imladris, but they were injured and did not seem to be a threat. Gûliel let them in, eyes wide as she stared at the being's odd features.

"Lord Glorfindel, who is this?" she asked.

"I do not know," he replied, only a touch of sheepishness infecting his tone. "They are injured and do not speak any language I recognise."

She thought it over for a short moment, but seceded and let them in. He passed along a word of thanks, leading the winged being in.

Glorfindel kept walking for a minute or so, then paused when he couldn't hear the soft footsteps behind him. Turning back to them, he opened his mouth to ask what they were doing. Then he stopped, softening. They were looking around with round eyes, the light of the stars and the candlelight falling through the open windows reflected in their wide yellow eyes.

They shook themself off, speeding up to catch up to him despite the pain it clearly caused them.

"Do not run if it pains you," he said worriedly, taking a step forward and aborting a movement to reach out. The being laughed him off, saying something else with a smirk. Glorfindel was too disapproving to listen to their words, so he missed the opportunity to turn over the sounds in his mind.

"Follow me," he sighed. "The sooner we get you to Elrond, the better."

The being follows him, slowly this time, looking around. Glorfindel interacted with them a bit more, but soon they reached the halls of healing. Elrond, having already been informed by no less than a dozen gossipers in the nearly ten minutes they had been here, was waiting for them.

"Glorfindel," Elrond said, eyes sliding over him and the winged being. "I see the rumours were correct."

"Indeed," he agreed, "This is... Mh, I have not yet learned their name. Their wing is broken."

Elrond stepped forward, reaching out toward their wing and yet not touching it - simply waiting for them to consent. A few emotions flashed across their face, then they slowly turned and offered their wing up.

Glorfindel was momentarily jealous that Elrond got to touch those wings, but he quickly swept those emotions aside.

"A bad break," Elrond murmured, "They must have an extraordinarily high pain tolerance."

Elrond led them along to one of the rooms, gestured for the being to sit on the bed, then busied himself collecting supplies. Glorfindel hovered nearby, simply watching, and his eyebrows raised just slightly as all of the being's feathers detached, floating to the side to form a small pile as they pulled off their curious jacket to reveal the even curiouser shirt underneath. He had never seen the like before, not on style nor fabric.

Elrond only paused for a moment, then nodded in silent thanks and started to spread a pain relieving gel over the break. Next before gently coaxed the bone back into place. As he was bandaging and splinting it, he spoke without looking back;

"If you would, please fetch some clothes for them?"

Glorfindel nodded, lighting up at having something to do, and sped out of the room. What to bring them? Something simple, surely. Perhaps just some of his day robes.

He padded into his room, throwing open the mahogany closet to rummage through his clothing. The sunlight streaming through the gaping windows caught on the gold detailing of the doors, and he would have usually stopped to admire it. Now, however, he was on a mission.

He took a very easy and simple set of robes, then headed back toward the halls of healing. He paused. The being had wings, and he didn't. His robes didn't have holes for wings.

He rushed back to his room, taking a beautiful dagger and slicing two long slits into the back. Then he continued heading back to the healing rooms.

By the time he reached the room, the being's wing was fully bandaged and splinted and they were kicking their feet as they looked around. Glorfindel surveyed their skintight black-and-gold shirt, then took some scissors from a desk. "My apologies, but you will have to cut your shirt to be able to get it off over your wing," he said ruefully. "Perhaps we can have it fixed."

"私のスタイルではありませんが、ありがとう!" the being said with a smile, eyes forming crescents, and took the clothes from him. Elrond took his arm, leading him out of the room. Though he was momentarily confused, he suddenly remembered how modest many mortals were. Elves were not on the level of immodesty as dwarves, but they could be trusted to be in the same room as a changing person without making it sexual. Humans were not the same, and though they did not know how this being viewed these things, it was better to be safe.

What they heard from the room next was a series of exclamations that held such a tone that they could be nothing other than curses, then a thump. Glorfindel put aside his worries and rushed in, unsure what to expect.

On the floor was the being, tangled hopelessly in the robes. He snickered, earning an eye roll, and rushed forward to help them. He slid his hands around them, one under their armpit and another on their back, under their wings, and helped them up. Next he fixed their robes; straightening them, putting their arms in the right places, and tying the strings.

The being huffed, crossing their arms, and pouted. They had folded all their clothes and put them on the bed, though they had left on their gloves and boots. Glorfindel smiled, deciding to introduce himself.

"Glorfindel," he said, pressing his hands to his chest. He'd start simple - if he said 'my name is Glorfindel', they might very well think that whole thing was his name.

Their nose scrunched up. "G... Grorfinderru," they said.

He blinked. What an odd accent. Fascinating! "Glorfindel," he repeated.

They cleared their throat, mouthing a few words with similar sounds, then - "Glorfindel."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. That was quite good for their second try! Though with the amount of different languages they had spoken in earlier, they had to be accustomed to switching around their accent.

"Elrond," he said, pointing at the elf who was standing off to the side and going through his medical supplies.

"Ellurondu," the being mumbled, then shook their head at themself. Glorfindel felt a moment of sympathy - the 'l' sounds seemed to be the hardest for them, and that was quite a prominent sound in Sindarin - very many names had it in them.

"Elrond," he repeated gently, and they got it on their next try.

They then held their hand to their chest, saying, "Takami Keigo."

Glorfindel blinked.

They took pity on him, reducing it to, "Takami."

It took him a few tries, but he also got the pronunciation right eventually. "Takami," he murmured, rolling the foreign name over his tongue. "It is very nice to meet you, Takami."

They grinned, fangs sticking out slightly, and their uninjured wing - still only covered in soft, fluffy pin feathers - fluttered. Glorfindel could not help but smile back.

Chapter 3: Longing

Summary:

Thanks to those who replied to my question ❤️ there's a little chappy for you 🫶

Only 1,000 words, but if you read my question you know. If not; I'll be doing oneshot-ish chapters, some short like this one, and some super extra long. Easier for me myehehehe 😈

EDIT: I completely forgot to add that I'm taking requests! Just tell me what you want to see these boys do and I'll attempt to write it!

Chapter Text

Keigo had been in this place for about a month now. He had been shocked to the core when he found out these people loved for thousands of years, and that despite living for so long, they hadn't invented phones or proper plumbing. Or perhaps it was because they lived for so long.

Either way, once he had gotten to a moderate level in their language (the point at which he could string together a few broken sentences) he'd asked for a map, had a breakdown, then straightened out that he was definitely not from this world. They'd been shocked at first, then had asked endless questions. These questions had been much too complicated for him to answer with his limited vocabulary, so they had written down most of the questions they had, which he would answer in his own time. Then he would hand back the paper, they'd read it, and write down any further questions that had arisen.

Back to the present; his wing was almost healed, thoigh not fully. It would take another few weeks, Elrond had said, but Keigo was absolutely sick to the core of being grounded. He NEEDED to be in the air! It was killing him to have been grounded for this long, and he desperately missed the wind on his face and his feathers.

So, for the eighth time in the past twelve minutes, he sighed. Glorfindel, who had been attempting to teach him Westron - the most common language through the lands, so the one they would teach him first - put his quill down and looked at him.

"Takami," Glorfindel said. "Focus."

Keigo sighed again, resting his head in his arms. "Want to go sky," he muttered in broken Westron. He was fairly good at languages, but this was a hard one, okay!

"You want to fly?" Glorfindel queried, tilting his head in that stupidly graceful way. God, he was hot.
Huh?? Who said that?? Not Keigo, hahaha....

"Yes," he said mournfully. His wings fluttered slightly and he looked up at the elf with a pouty expression. Glorfindel held out for a moment, then sighed and stood.

"We can..." There was a word he didn't understand there, "...this later. Follow me," Glorfindel said, heading to the door. From contextual clues, Keigo could deduce that the word he hadn't understood must have been 'continue' or perhaps 'finish' or something along those lines that Japanese didn't have.

Keigo jumped up from his chair and followed him eagerly. In his excitement, he accidentally made a series of bird-like hops as he walked, then immediately stopped when he realised. His bird-like mannerisms has been slipping out more lately, and he was dreading the re-training that the Hero Commission would issue him once he got back.

An odd look flitted across Glorfindel's face when Keigo stopped his weird birdish hopping-walk, but he didn't say anything. Good. Keigo didn't want to have to lie to him.

Glorfindel led him to a tall... Tower? Spire? What were those really tall cylindrical buildings called?? Whatever. The main point was that it was really high, and Keigo wasn't as dumb as he played up on TV. He had already gleaned the most likely reason he had been led here.

He was proved right when he was led up the stairs, all the way to the top. The top was flat with barely any fencing - like most things here, the fencing had only been put in when Elrond took in a human boy named Estel, who had a knack for falling off things.

Keigo closed his eyes, feeling the wind brush through his hair and feathers. His wings opened, though his injured one not so much as his other, and he lifted his nose to the sky. The scent here really should have been his first tip-off that he was in another world entirely. There was not a singular hint of pollution, the air so fresh and lovely that it would almost make a person cry. Keigo wasn't sure he could go back to smogged-up Earth after experiencing this.

He spent a long time like that, with his wings open and facing the wind. Of course, it wasn't the same. It was almost there, but not quite. Like when someone makes a dish your mother used to, but not exactly the way she did - so it's the same dish, but just not quite right.

Wow. He got far too sidetracked trying to make deep metaphors about food. The main point was; it was nice, but only made him long for the real thing more.

Keigo turned back to Glorfindel, smiling tiredly. "Thank you," he said, giving a shut-eyed smile. He was extremely careful not to let any hint of his longing show in his face, but the elf picked it up anyway. Damn their super senses.

"Always," Glorfindel said with a soft smile creasing the corners of his eyes. Thank goodness for elves and their super empathy - as in, knowing when to not say anything.

Keigo watched the elf smile and act so kind with a strange feeling in his chest. God, he was so sexy. Not that Keigo was attracted to him or anything! Sure, Glorfindel was super kind, sweet, loving, caring, handsome, had a smoking hot body, kissable lips, beautiful blue eyes, the most amazing sense of humour, absol-

Hm.

Yeah, he was probably just hungry. "I am hungry!" he exclaimed. "Let us go to... Uh..." he pursed his lips, searching for the word.

Glorfindel chuckled. "...The kitchens? The markets?"

"Markets!"

"Alright, let us go to the markets," Glorfindel smiled.

Keigo cheered and hopped after him. "We get.... Ahem, we need to get honey buns!"

"Of course," Glorfindel said, holding out a hand for him to take. "As many honey buns as you would like."

Keigo felt that warm feeling bubble in his chest again. He slipped his hand into Glorfindel's, his warm fingers curling around the elf's slightly cooler ones. This was definitely a really good friendship! Possibly the best be had ever had! :)

Chapter 4: Sparring

Summary:

You get another chapter, pookies! Two in two days, crazy right? Well, since I can write whatever I want and they're shorter, I have TOOOOONS more motivation :)))

Also, omfg I'm trying to hard not to write a Sun & Moon fic 😭 I was so into those fics years ago, then I slipped into a different hyperfixation and forgot about them. I recently found one of my old favourite fics though and it all came RUSHING back. I NEED to write about them but I CANT I have like five unfinished fics already 😭😭😭
...gonna be completely honest, the only reason I said that was so that someone would go 'you should write it!' and then I'd have an excuse to write it lmao

Chapter Text

Glorfindel was practicing his sword fighting in the yard, sword sweeping through the air with quiet swishes as if it was physically cutting through the atmosphere. Parrying an invisible strike, he ducked another and slashed his sword toward his imaginary foe. The light of the midday sun glinted off the metal of his sword, glinting in a way that would make it hard for any assailant who was not an elf to see. After two hours of this, he stopped and put his sword back in its sheath, breathing only slightly heavier than usual. He was not sweaty at all.

The sound of clapping turned his gaze over to the side of the yard, where Takami sat with a smile. The winged man had a thick blush on his cheeks and his feathers were puffed up, eyes shining. Takami hopped over in that adorable bird-like way that happened whenever he was excited, hands clasped in front of himself.

"You are rea- r- very good Glorfindel!" Takami exclaimed. Glorfindel felt heat rise to his cheeks, though he was adept at pushing it back down again. Complimenting another's swordplay? How forward! Takami may as well just be asking to bed him right here!

"Thank you, Takami. Do you fight?" he asked, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

Keigo tilted his head to the side like a confused animal, then nodded and pulled out one of his flight feathers. It hardened in his hand, sharpening until it had a knife-like edge. It seemed utterly impractical to use in battle, unwieldy and with an odd weight, but with Takami's telepathic control over his feathers, it would be a deadly weapon.

"Fight?" Takami asked.

"A spar," Glorfindel offered the correct word, then nodded and pulled out his sword again, sliding into position. Takami mouthed the word with consideration, then grinned and readied his feather-blade.

Takami struck first, sending a slash at Glorfindel. Glorfindel blocked the hit, their swords making not a metal clang, but more of a dull thunk when they hit. The sunlight hit Takami's wheat coloured hair and turned it golden momentarily, and Glorfindel admired it. It wasn't quite to molten-gold as his own hair, but it was still beautiful - especially now that it had grown out quite a bit, since the elves wouldn't let him cut it.

Takami thrusted his feather-blade towards Glorfindel, who parried, then feinted to the left and sent a strike to the right. Takami executed a riposte that had his feather-blade swinging just a hair away from Glorfindel's vulnerable neck. Glorfindel grinned and ducked the next strike, lunging forward to flip the man to the ground and hold his sword to his throat.

Takami lay on the ground for a moment, panting. Glorfindel sheathed his sword, holding out a hand to help him up. "You are quite well trained," he complimented.

Takami winced as he was pulled to his feet, stretching out his injured wing. Glorfindel winced at the realisation that he had made the winged man land right on it, likely hurting it further.

"Thank you," Takami said. "It was... good spar. A good spar."

"Indeed. My apologies, I believe I hurt your wing," Glorfindel said, holding out a hand to brush against said injured wing. Takami shivered and flushed, shaking his head.

"No, is... It is okay," Takami said.

Glorfindel looked at him for a moment, then nodded. They were still holding hands, he realised, but did not let go.

Takami cleared his throat, pulling his hand away. "Your hair is pretty and long," he said. Those words sent a thrill through Glorfindel. This could not simply be a coincidence. Complimenting both his swordplay and his hair? This was most definitely flirting!

"How do you do such..." Takami seemed mildly frustrated as not being able to find the right word, "...big? Lots... Braids," he said.

"Complicated?" Glorfindel offered, then paused as he fully registered the words. He but his lip, eyes roaming over the other man's face. "...Do you wish for me to teach you how to do it?" he offered shyly.

Takami tilted his head, then nodded. "Yes please," he smiled.

Glorfindel could not hide his radiant smile. Takami had accepted his offer! They were now officially courting! Everything suddenly seemed so much brighter. The air clearer, the birdsong louder, the sun more luminous. The afternoon sun sent dark golden tendrils of light to span across Takami's cheeks, revealing the slight freckles, the dimples and the small laugh lines. He was utterly beautiful.

Glorfindel squeezed his hand, feeling as if he was about to burst with glee. "Come, then, and I shall teach you!" he said joyfully, and burst into song as he danced Takami across the yard. Takami laughed in surprise but followed along, wings flaring for balance.

Takami exclaimed something in his native language, which Glorfindel - after hours of study sessions with Takami that went quite a lot better than the ones where Takami was the one learning - vaguely understood to mean, 'Whoa, dude!'. 'dude' meaning a more informal version of 'man', though he had been informed that it was more of a gender neutral term.

Glorfindel just laughed and sang louder, his voice ringing across the yard and through to the houses closest to them. Everyone nearby could hear his joy over his new courtship with this man, whom he had been steadily growing to adore over the past month and a half. He would have to take this slow, but he could not see himself falling for another.

That was one phrase that Takami had taught him that he loved. Sindarin had a great many romantic metaphors and phrases, but he hadn't heard this one before Takami had told him. 'Falling in love'.

It was fitting - it truly felt like he was falling; the adrenaline and increased heart rate, and with this type of falling, it was like there was a whole bowl of strawberries and cream at the bottom. Nothing to be scared of, so the adrenaline was addicting.

Oh yes. He was absolutely, most definitely, indubitably falling in love with Takami. That little scrunch if the nose whenever he didn't like something, the tilt of his head when he was confused, the excited hopping-walk, the way he'd get when he was sleepy... Goodness. Glorfindel wanted to kiss him right then and there, though that had to wait for stage four of the courting process.

Oh, he was so happy Takami agreed.

Chapter 5: Boating

Summary:

Three days in a row!?!?! God I'm good. I'm simply one hell of a writer 😘

Remember my rant about wanting to write that other fanfiction yesterday? Yeah, well I held out until two in the morning, vomited out 900 words, then fell asleep with my phone on my chest. I'm most likely not going to post it, but I rid myself of my agonising need to write it. For now...

Chapter Text

Confusion. That was most of what Keigo felt right now. Glorfindel had dragged him out to a secluded spot by a lake, where a picnic had already been set up. There were candles, fresh strawberries and cream, wine, bread and cheese, and a small but well-crafted boat docked right on the shore.

Hm. Odd, but perhaps this was what friends did? He'd never had any before - any that weren't work friends, that is. Sure, he and Mirko were pretty close, but if either of the quit their jobs, he wasn't sure if they'd keep in contact. Even if it wasn't what human friends did, maybe it was what elves did with their friends?

Glorfindel pulled him to the picnic blanket, sitting down and pouring some wine. Keigo shrugged to himself and sat down as well.

"This place is very pretty," he said, looking around.

"It is, isn't it?" Glorfindel sighed, staring at Keigo rather than their surroundings. Shit, he was supposed to look at people when he talked to them, wasn't he? Glorfindel was being so polite and Keigo was forgetting his training entirely!

He took the wine glass that was offered to him, lips wrapping around the rim. It was good wine - fruity, slightly sweet, and a little bitter.

"Try the strawberries," Glorfindel said picking one up and scooping up some cream with it, before holding it to Keigo's lips. Huh. Friendship was much more lovey-dovey than he had thought. A flush rose to his cheeks as he bit into it. It was delicious; the strawberry was sweet and juicy and the cream was the best he'd ever had. Then again, most of the food here was the best he'd ever had. He still needed to introduce to them the wonders of fried chicken though.

"It's... good," he said, tugging at one of the braids Glorfindel had done in his hair. Glorfindel bit his lip at the sight, so he stopped. After a moment, Keigo reached out and grabbed some cheese, shoving it in his mouth. This language barrier sucked! He would usually break the awkward (to him. Glorfindel seemed entirely comfortable) silence with a quip or joke, but he wasn't confident enough in Westron to be able to say what he wanted.

"I'm glad," Glorfindel said softly. The dude wasn't even eating.

"What is the boat for?" Keigo asked after he swallowed his food.

Glorfindel smiled, which lit his whole face up. Yeesh, elves really were blessed in the looks department. Glorfindel in particular. "I thought we could go for a short ride after we finish our food."

Keigo nodded, sipping his wine in between bites of cheese and strawberry. Glorfindel just... stared at him. Was that fondness he saw? Elves really put a lot into friendships, huh? Humans could probably do to learn a thing or two from them.

His nose scrunched up when he put a cheese in his mouth and was met with a bitter, tangy, gross flavour. Gosh, that was disgusting. He didn't let any of the disgust show on his face, aside from the nose wrinkle, and tried to force it down. Spitting out food in company was possibly one of the rudest things you could do. The Hero Commission had taught him that, but he thought he would have known it even if they hadn't, since it was just one of those common sense things.

Glorfindel laughed. "You hate that one, it seems."

Keigo struggled to swallow. "N-no," he said, holding his hand up to his mouth to not show off the food inside it. Glorfindel just laughed again.

"You can spit it out, I do not mind," were the words that prompted Keigo to scramble to a bush and spit out as much as he could. After he'd gotten out as much as he could, he ran back to wash the taste out with wine.

"What was that!?" Keigo exclaimed.

Glorfindel took a moment to stop laughing, then spoke with a giggly, breathy voice; "Blue cheese. It is an... acquired taste."

"It is disgusting is what it is," Keigo said, throwing back the rest of his wine. It burned pleasantly in his throat, ridding his mouth of any trace of the cheese.

"Come," Glorfindel said, laughing softly again, and took his hand. He led Keigo to the boat, which he untethered from the land and stepped into. Keigo sat down on one of the cushioned seats in it, studying the design. It was a bit like one of the small paddle boats you'd see in movies, but it was much fancier and the planks of wood that serves as chairs were all padded. Didn't seem like the best idea for a boat, but perhaps the fabric was waterproof.

Glorfindel slotted the oars into the right spots and started paddling them out to the lake. He was really pretty in this light, not that he wasn't always pretty. The moonlight lit up his hair and his crystal blue eyes, and his hands looked really soft and slender and skilled.

Haha, what? It's not gay to observe your homies. Keigo's just thinking about how Glorfindel would be a hit among the ladies, that's all. (The thought of Glorfindel being straight saddened him a little bit... But he wasn't sure why).

"The moon is beautiful tonight," Glorfindel commented. Keigo's cheeks flamed momentarily, but he pushed it down. The elf didn't understand the meaning of those words in Japanese, it was an innocent observation.

"It is," he replied, looking up at it. It was full and round, much like Glorfindel's thick-
.
Sorry.
Keigo dipped the tips of his fingers in the water to distract himself, sweeping them through it and tracing little patterns. He sighed, stretching out his wings with a yawn.

"It is getting late," Glorfindel said softly, one hand coming up to cup Keigo's cheek. His face grew hot under the touch and he looked away.

"Yes. Maybe we should go back. Soon."

Glorfindel nodded, staring into his eyes. Wow, Glorfindel's eyes were really captivating! Probably an elf thing.

They floated there for a good twenty minutes more, admiring the scenery and letting the soft rocking of the boat soothe them, then paddled back to shore.

All in all, by the time Keigo got back to his room, he was exhausted but also giddy with happiness. A warm feeling he was choosing to describe as 'friendship' curled in his chest and he was riding that high until he fell asleep.

Chapter 6: Flying

Summary:

I was going to put the ball in this chapter and make it a long one, but then my brother got home with Chinese for dinner 🤷
I think it's better if I have Keigo's P.O.V for the ball anyway. I'll try to make that chapter longer don't worry 🫶

Chapter Text

Takami was almost vibrating with excitement, his feathers puffed up and his hands clenched around handfuls of his pants. Glorfindel watched with amusement and fondness as the final bandages were taken off the now-healed wing.

Takami looked as if he wished to take off immediately, but Elrond held him back.

"Take it easy," the elf instructed, "Your wing is healed but it is still-"

Takami was gone, jumping off his seat and out the window and shooting off like one of Radagast's rabbits. Glorfindel jogged to the window to watch the man fly, and fly he did. He swooped in circles, spun around, and disappeared into the clouds.

Glorfindel sighed dreamily as he watched his partner fly, those strong red wings beating energetically. Faint laughter drifted down from the heavens, where Takami played in fluffy clouds. He didn't know Takami could go so high... It was amazing.

With a chuckle, Elrond pushed his shoulder. "You are completely smitten."

Glorfindel just shook his head and stared. "Indeed I am," he sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. The setting sun cast beautiful yellows, oranges and pinks across the clouds, outlined in gold. Takami's form was tiny but still visible, just a red spot swooping through the clouds. Then it started getting larger as he flew back.

Valar, he was beautiful. The sun lit up his hair a dark wheat gold and his wings a flaming red-gold. His eyes were bright with excitement and exhilaration, a huge grin stretching across his cheeks and forming dimples. He beat his wings in a speedier pattern for balance as he landed on the windowsill, hair windswept and messed up.

"You look like you had fun," Glorfindel commented, reaching out to take Takami's hands. Takami nodded, feathers fluffing out slightly.

"I did! Flying is amazing," he gushed, then glanced in pity at Glorfindel's wingless back.

"Shall we get some food?" Glorfindel asked, already leading him away. As Takami's enthusiastic agreement, he smiled and said a goodbye to Elrond, then exited the infirmary room. The hall was empty of people at this time of day, most of the servants in the kitchen or getting ready for the night elsewhere. It was a beautiful hall, though that was to be expected of Rivendell - all the halls here were beautiful.

This one seemed more beautiful today, though. It was open and filled with intricate carvings and paintings, and a soft breeze blew through, but that was normal and it was no different from any of the other halls. He suspected it was because Takami was here that made the beauty shine though. He could make anything prettier.

Takami seemed to be deep in thought, staring at their entwined hands with a small crease between his eyebrows and a tiny frown tugging at his lips.

"Are you well?" Glorfindel asked, mildly concerned, and squeezed his hand. Takami jolted and glanced up, then nodded. Glorfindel dropped the subject, sensing Takami didn't want to talk. "I shall fetch the food. Would you like to eat it in the same place we had that picnic?"

"Which one?" Takami finally spoke, looking up with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We have only gone on, oh, what was it now? Twelve?"

"The first one we went on," Glorfindel chuckled fondly. Takami nodded and slipped his hand from Glorfindel's, sending a pang of disappointment through him despite the fact that he was the one who suggested splitting up.

He watched as Takami took off, flying out the window, then turned and raced towards the kitchens. He was finding it harder and harder to spend any amount of time away from Tamaki these days, especially with the realisation that he didn't know how long Takami's species lived for. Was he immortal like Glorfindel? Would he only live a short sixty or so years like the humans?

He pushed that depressing thought from his mind and started to sprint down the hall. The golden hair that was the envy of so many elves streamed behind him like the sun itself was attached to his head as he made it to the kitchens in record time.

"Lord Glorfindel!" the head cook greeted. "Are you going on another date with Lord Takami?"

"Yes," he chuckled, "My apologies for the lack of forewarning. It was a spontaneous decision; I just could not help but invite him out again after Elrond took off his bandages and I was able to watch him fly. Oh, you should have seen him," Glorfindel sighed, a light pink flush coating his cheeks as a far-away look entered his eyes. "He was beautiful."

The kitchen staff, who never tired of listening to Glorfindel swoon over the man he was courting, twittered in amusement.

"Of course," said the head cook, pulling out a pre-prepared basket and loading it with fresh berries and pastries. They had started keeping picnic baskets in the kitchen at this point.

Glorfindel took it once it was finished, thanked the kitchen staff, then hurried off to find Takami.

Takami was waiting in the spot they had agreed upon, his shoes discarded to the side and his feet in the water. Settling down next to him, Glorfindel handed Takami a bowl of his favourite type of berries - blackberries - and a glass of wine. Takami threw a few in his mouth, chewing languidly as he flopped backwards to stare up at the sky.

"There is a small ball in a few days," Glorfindel mentioned off-handedly, nibbling on a strawberry. "Would you go with me?"

Takami hummed, then buried his hand in the bowl of blackberries again. "I would like that," he said, cushioning his head with his arm. "ホモじゃないけどね."

Glorfindel tried to figure out those words, but Takami hadn't taught him most of the ones used in that sentence yet. He didn't bother asking what it meant, simply laid back next to Takami.

There was a few moments of comfortable silence, then Takami broke it. "...Keigo."

"Hm?" Glorfindel turned to face him.

"My name. It is Keigo. My family name is Takami. It is impolite to call someone by their given name unless you are close enough, but..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "You may call me Keigo."

A smile pulled Glorfindel's cheeks up and made his eyes crinkle. "Well, Keigo," he murmured, and mentally noted the way Keigo flushed and shivered at that, "I am honoured to call you by your given name."

Keigo muttered a quiet, "Shush your mouth," as his face became the colour of cherries and he turned away. Glorfindel ceased speaking, but mouthed the name with a red tint over his cheeks.