Fire and Shadow

Summary: Previous commitments, honor, duty, and death keep Erestor and Glorfindel apart.

Author's Note: For the 2006 Mistletoe in May fiction exchange. I have altered the fall of Gondolin so it is not strictly canon-verse.

~~~

Gondolin, 506 of the First Age

Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and Feredir stood and watched the first year recruits spar in hand to hand combat, talking amongst themselves as to who they thought had what it took to excel quickly through the ranks. Every once in a while they would wince when one of the green warriors was thrown to the ground.

“There are some skilled ellyn (pl. m. elf) in this group,” Feredir stated to his companions.

Glorfindel nodded his agreement. When Ecthelion did not reply he elbowed Feredir and said, “I think Thel has his mind on something else or should I say *someone* else.”

Feredir and Glorfindel laughed when Ecthelion blushed and looked at them sheepishly. “I do believe you are right, Fin. Pray tell who fills your thoughts so completely?” Feredir queried.

Ecthelion shrugged, “I do not know what you speak of,” he said, not looking at his two smiling mellyn (friends) standing next to him.

Glorfindel threw his arm around Ecthelion’s shoulder and asked, “Come now, are we not mellyn?”

The warrior sighed and said, “He is just so ethereal, I fear he is above my grasp. His beauty, his voice, the way he moves is grace itself.”

Glorfindel was truly shocked. He had never seen his meldir (m. friend) act this way. Surely someone had finally captured Thel’s heart. Squeezing Thel’s shoulder, Glorfindel asked, “Does this paragon have a name?”

Ecthelion turned his head and smiled as he said, “Erestor, his name is Erestor. He is one of King Turgon’s scribes. I met him two days ago, I literally ran into him. I had just come from a meeting with the King and I had been rushing down the hallway and bumped into him.”

“And you did not tell us of him,” Feredir asked incredulously.

“There is nothing to tell, well not exactly. I am meeting him in the library after the evening meal. I asked him if he could help me in finding a book,” Ecthelion said and when both of his mellyn arched a brow at him he said, “What? I had to come up with some reason to see him again.”

Both Glorfindel and Feredir laughed out loud and they were about to tease their meldir when a lilting voice called out, “Ada (Daddy)!”

Feredir turned and smiled as his daughter came bounding up to where they were standing. “Ai (Ah), Princess, what are you doing here?” Feredir asked as he hugged his daughter, Gailwen.

Gailwen smiled and said, “Mae govannen (Well met), Ecthelion, Fin. Ada, I am here with a few of mellyn nín (my friends). They came to watch the warriors train.”

Feredir raised his brow and asked, “And you, are you here to watch the recruits as well?”

Gailwen blushed, “Ada! You know I am more sensible than that,” she exclaimed as she glanced towards Glorfindel.

“Well that is good. I would hate to have to cause harm to any of the young ellyn, I would not want to depriveKing Turgon of any of his warriors,” Feredir said, half serious.

Gailwen shook her head at her Adar (Father) and asked, “Fin, are you still coming for dinner?”

Glorfindel smiled and bowed as he said, “But of course, Gail. You know how much I enjoy your culinary skills.”

Gailwen rose onto his tiptoes and kissed Glorfindel’s cheek before she did the same to her Ada and said over her shoulder as she ran to rejoin her friends, “Namarie (Farewell), Ecthelion. Ada, Fin I will see you later!”

Thel chuckled, “Fin, I think you have an admirer.”

Glorfindel’s cheeks turned pink as he looked at Feredir, who looked at him. Clearing his throat, he then said, “Thel, I think you are mistaken. She is just like a daughter to me and I an uncle to her.”

Feredir smirked as he said, “I am sorry to tell you this Fin, but I do believe that my Princess is quite taken with you.”

This got Glorfindel all flustered and he said, “Well I will be more careful in the future then, I would not want to give her the wrong idea. Feredir, Gailwen is most beautiful but she is just like family to me.”

“Be at ease meldir. I am not trying to set up a betrothal between you two. I am quite selfish; I do not want to share her just yet with anyone else. Besides, she has a few years before she reaches her majority,” Feredir said as they once again started to watch the warriors’ training.

After a few minutes Ecthelion said, “Well you two, I think I will bid you goodnight. I hope you two will have a safe patrol and I will see you when you return.”

Glorfindel and Feredir nodded and they embraced their meldir goodbye. When Ecthelion was about ten paces away from them, Glorfindel could not keep himself from calling out, “I hope you have luck in finding that book you seek!”

Feredir laughed as Thel just waved at them and quickened his pace. Slapping Glorfindel on the back he said, “Come, we would not want to keep a young lady waiting, now would we? You know how she is, we will need to clean up before dinner else we will have to go without.”

Glorfindel chuckled, “Oh yes, I know. But she is *your* daughter.”

“And that is supposed to mean?” Feredir queried.

Glorfindel just shook his head and said, “I refuse to answer that.”

Feredir narrowed his eyes and said, “Humph,” as they walked down the street towards the residential area where his house was located.

~~~~~~~~~

Two months later

Erestor sighed as he settled more comfortably against Ecthelion’s chest. They lay, lounging on a chaise, both trying to regain their breath from a bout of love making. Erestor smiled as he listened to Ecthelion’s heart beat regain its steady rhythm, thinking of how his life had changed over these last couple of months. How this warrior who held him now had literally came crashing into his life.

Ecthelion idly ran his fingers through Erestor’s dark locks, relishing the content feeling he had from just holding this ellon (m. elf) in his arms. He thought about how much he had come to care for this dark-haired scribe and that he wanted him in his life for a long time to come. Taking a deep breath he said, “You know, Glorfindel and Feredir should be returning from patrol any day now. I would like so very much for you to meet them. I know they would like you and you them.”

Erestor felt Ecthelion’s hand still in his hair and he looked up into his eyes, hearing the silent question, knew that he was asking more than just if he would meet his mellyn, he was asking if he could introduce him as his melethron. Erestor twined his fingers with the warrior’s and brought them to his lips and smiled as he kissed each one, never looking away from those hazel eyes that searched his.

Thel released his breath that he had not realized that he was holding when he saw the answer in his pen vain’s (beautiful one’s) eyes. Grasping Erestor by his biceps, Ecthelion pulled him up and captured his lips. When they once more were out of breath, Thel rested his forehead against his melethron’s, both staring into each others eyes, no declarations needed at this point in their relationship.

Erestor was truly happy; truly cared for this warrior, but there was something that held him back from stating his love. He did not know why he was reluctant to take that final step, but he supposed that they were both so used to being alone that they were content to take things slowly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel swung his sword in an arc, bringing down his last foe. He stood there; chest heaving as the adrenaline of the battle slowly seeped away and was replaced with grief and disgust as he looked about him at the death that littered the ground around him. Nearly two months they had been out here on patrol, tracking a body of orcs, noting their unusual behavior until finally they attacked their query. What they had not known was that there had been another smaller group of the filthy beasts slowly approaching, causing them to be out numbered three to one. Even with the odds not in their favor, they triumphed, but not without sacrifice.

Suddenly Glorfindel looked around and noticed that he did not see the one person that should have been near him, the one that always protected his back and vice versa. Making his way over the dead orc bodies Glorfindel called out, “Feredir?”

A minute passed and yet he did not receive an answer, nor did he see his meldir. When he was about to call out again, that is when he heard the muffled moan coming from a few yards away. Quickly making his way to the sound, he stumbled to a stop when he saw the blade of Feredir’s sword protruding through the back of an orc. Glorfindel gasped, “No,” as he fell to his knees and rolled the beast off the body that it lay upon.

The sight that greeted his eyes robbed him of his breath as he looked into the glazed eyes of his meldir. “Feredir,” Glorfindel cried out as he placed his hand over the gaping wound in the warrior’s side.

Feredir winced as Glorfindel put pressure onto the wound but he knew that is was too late, already his body was growing cold, his vision dimming like a candle reaching the end of it’s wick. Taking a shuddering breath he grasped Glorfindel’s hand, “Fin, you must promise me something.”

“Shh meldir, be still, conserve your strength. We will get you all patched up and take you home to Gailwen so she can nurse you back to health,” Glorfindel said, but knowing the truth as well.

Feredir tried to smile up at Fin but it turned out to be a sickly ghost of its former beauty and he said more firmly, “Fin, you must promise me that you will take care of my little princess. Saes (Please), you must promise me.”

Glorfindel nodded as tears fell and he said, “Yes, of course. I will not abandon her. Feredir…I am so…sorry.”

Reaching up with a shaky hand, Feredir brushed his fingertips against his meldir’s face and said, “You know, she fancies you. If, in the future, you two come to care for one another, you have my blessing.”

“Saes Feredir, do not leave me,” Glorfindel pleaded, resting his forehead against his meldir’s.

Feredir wrapped his fingers loosely around one of Glorfindel’s warrior braids and whispered, “If there is one thing that I regret besides leaving Gailwen behind, it is that I never had the chance to have you. Fin…I…”

“I will regret it for the rest of my days, Feredir,” Glorfindel whispered back.

Feredir felt himself slipping away and with the last energy he had, he asked softly, “Kiss me?”

Glorfindel cupped the side of Feredir’s face with his hand and leaned down and put all the love that he had for his meldir into the kiss. When he felt Feredir take his last breath, Glorfindel shook as he gathered him into his arms, rocking him. Grief and pain consumed him and suddenly he could no longer contain it. Throwing his head back, Glorfindel roared out his anguish, his voice carrying on the wind.

The return journey was slow going with the injured and the bodies of the dead. The whole way, Glorfindel wept silent tears, dreading what was to come. When finally they passed through the last gate into Gondolin, they came to a halt as they were greeted by fellow warriors.

Glorfindel sat atop his horse, still holding the reins of the horse that bore Feredir’s lifeless body. He seemed to be in a haze, ithil’s gaze seemed hidden to him and he felt numb.

“My Lord? My Lord Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel shook his head as he met the eyes of the ellon waiting for his attention. He saw the understanding in the warrior’s eyes and he heard him say, “My Lord, I will take care of Feredir’s body. Do not worry; I will make sure he gets to where he is supposed to go.”

Glorfindel finally relinquished his hold on the horse’s reins and said, “Not a word is to reach Gailwen. I will be the one that tells her,” then pulled on the reins of his horse and took off towards the residential area.

Glorfindel was halfway to Feredir’s abode when suddenly he turned down a side street and quickened his horse’s pace, he needed Thel. He could not go to Gailwen alone, he just could not. Screeching to a stop in front of the House of the Fountain, Glorfindel jumped down and strode to the gate, stopping in front of a guard and asked, “Is your Lord at home?”

“I believe he is within, My Lord.”

Nodding, Glorfindel walked up to the front door and entered. When he was about ten paces inside, he encountered Ecthelion’s housekeeper, Mirima, who smiled at first seeing him but as soon as she took in his bloodied warrior garb and his saddened eyes, she blinked back tears as she said softly, “Lord Ecthelion is in his study.”

Glorfindel lightly squeezed her shoulder in passing and he walked down the hallway towards the study. Reaching for the handle on the door, he paused, trying to draw in breath into his suddenly restricted lungs. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before he opened the door and stepped inside, “Thel?”

Erestor looked up from where he sat before the fire, awaiting Ecthelion to return so they could finish their game of chess. He was quite surprised at seeing the bedraggled golden warrior that had just entered. Standing up he said, “Lord Ecthelion should be returning any moment.”

The voice of this dark-haired ellon that stood across the room from him, washed over Glorfindel and he could not hold in his grief any longer. Tears fell has he swayed on his feet, finally his legs giving out from under him.

Erestor gasped as he saw the ellon start to fall and quickly made his way to his side and caught him before he could hit the floor. When the warrior buried his face against Erestor’s chest and wept, the scribe’s heart did a somersault. He could not seem to catch his breath as this ellon’s pain gripped him, running through his body as if it were his own. Erestor did not know what was going on, how or why he felt so connected to this warrior that clung to him as if he were going to be ripped from him at any moment. Not knowing what exactly to do, Erestor held the warrior in his arms and started rocking him, all the while running his fingers through the golden one’s mane.

Glorfindel fisted his hands in the dark-haired ellon’s robes as he cried. The arms that held him somehow eased some of the pain that gripped his soul. He did not know how long he sat there, with this ellon who rocked him so gently, when he heard Ecthelion’s voice.

“I am so sorry, Erestor, that I took so…” Ecthelion started to say but then gasped, “Fin!”

Glorfindel turned tear-filled eyes to look up into his meldir’s face as he knelt next to him. All that Glorfindel could say was, “Thel…Feredir…”

Ecthelion paled as tears fell from his eyes and he took Glorfindel into his arms, resting his head on top of his meldir’s. Together, they wept for their meldir, clinging to one another, sharing their pain. Finally Glorfindel said, “I was going to Gailwen, to tell her, but I just could not go there by myself…”

“Shh Fin, I will go with you. You do not have to tell her alone,” Thel said as he brushed the hair out of Glorfindel’s eyes.

Glorfindel averted his eyes, not wanting to look into Ecthelion’s as he said, “I failed him, and I failed her. I did not keep him safe; I did not bring him safely home.”

Ecthelion lifted Glorfindel’s chin and said firmly, “Fin, you did not fail. You are a warrior, just like Feredir was, like I am. We all know the uncertainties of a battle. No one is safe; no one is impervious to death.”

Glorfindel knew what Ecthelion said was true, but it did not quell the guilt that he felt. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stood and said, “I must get to Gailwen before she hears of Feredir’s death from someone else.”

The three stood and Ecthelion took the scribe’s hand and said, “Glorfindel, this is Erestor. Erestor, this is Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel looked into the dark eyes that held sympathy and understanding in them and said, “I am so sorry about your robe and hannon le (thank you) for your comfort.”

Erestor looked down at his tear-damp robe and then looked up into the haunted indigo-eyes and said, “Do not worry about it and you are welcome. I am just sorry we are not meeting under better circumstances. I am so sorry for your loss.”

Glorfindel nodded and watched as the dark-haired ellon turned to Thel and he noticed their clasped hands and for some reason, it bothered him. “Ecthelion, I will see myself out. You attend to your friend,” Erestor said.

Thel drew Erestor close to his side and said softly, “Erestor, I would rather you come with us. I need you right now.”

Erestor did not want to intrude but he was reluctant to leave, and it was just not for Ecthelion’s comfort. He longed to ease the pain of this golden warrior who stood so heart stricken and yet, who was trying to pull himself together in order to give the worse news you could give to a daughter, the news of a parent’s death. Looking to the warrior, he asked, “If Lord Glorfindel is well with it, I will go with you.”

Glorfindel nodded and then turned and started walking back out to the courtyard, all the while, aware of the scribe’s presence behind him.

Glorfindel brought his horse to a stop and sat there, staring at the front door to Feredir’s home, as Ecthelion and Erestor dismounted. Ecthelion waited for Glorfindel to dismount but after a minute and his meldir (friend) had yet to even move at all, he walked up and laid a gentle hand upon Fin’s thigh, “Mellon nín (my Friend)?”

Glorfindel slowly looked down at Ecthelion and he nodded as he slid off his horse. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he then straightened his spine and walked into the house, all the while trembling on the inside. Knowing that Gailwen usually spent the evenings in the sitting room before the fire while working on her needlepoint, he came to a stop in front of the door.

Ecthelion saw Glorfindel’s hand tremble as it reached for the door knob and he covered it with his. He looked into his meldir’s eyes and whispered, “You are not alone, Fin.”

Glorfindel squeezed Thel’s hand before he swung the door open and stepped inside. When Gailwen looked up from her sewing, he tried his best not to look away, tried to hide his guilt, knowing that it would not help her in any way. She needed his support and care, he could not be selfish; he needed to set his feelings aside and give everything he could to her.

Gailwen looked up as she heard the door open. At seeing Fin, she started to smile until she saw the tears that filled his red, puffy eyes. Looking past him, she saw Ecthelion, who boasted tears as well and she knew that her Adar (Father) was dead. Rising to her feet, her needlepoint fell from her suddenly cold fingers and she gasped, “Ada (Daddy)…”

Glorfindel quickly went to her as tears started falling down her pale cheeks and he gathered her into his arms. He held her, as she shook, her wails of denial tearing new holes into his already battered heart. Gently rocking her, he whispered, “I am so sorry, penneth (young one). I am so very sorry.”

Erestor stood, looking over Ecthelion’s shoulder at the two, and suddenly his eyes locked with watery cerulean ones. His heart did a flip flop and a tear fell down his cheek at the pain he felt that was not his own. Without realizing it, he reached out with his faer (soul), and sent soothing energy into the golden warrior. When those cerulean eyes widened, he became aware of what he was doing and severed the connection as he looked away. In his shock, he missed the disappointment in Glorfindel’s eyes at the loss.

Glorfindel did not know why he seemed to connect with the dark-haired scribe. Every fiber in his being longed to be held by Erestor, but instead, he buried his face in Gailwen’s hair and started to hum a lullaby, in hopes to sooth her in some way.

When finally, Gailwen’s tears started to slow, she looked up into Glorfindel’s eyes and asked, “Now what am I going to do? Where will I go? I have no one now.”

Glorfindel wiped away some of her tears and said, “Your Adar asked that I take care of you. You are not alone, Gail, you will always have me. I know that I could never replace your Ada and I will not begin to try. But I hope that you will accept my friendship. I will never abandon you.”

“Fin, how can I go on without him? The pain, it is too much,” she cried as her tears started again.

Tears welled once more in Glorfindel’s eyes and he held her to his chest, “You will take one day at a time. I know now it does not seem like you could survive this but just think of all the things he wanted for you. He and I used to sit and he would talk about you, how much he loved you. How he wanted you to grow and to eventually find that special someone that would love you and who would give you Elflings. Just think on that. Live each day for him. Know that one day, when the Valar deem it the right time, you and he will be reunited.”

Finally, the despair and the tears took their toll on Gailwen and she fell into a fitful reverie. After Glorfindel carried her into her room and tucked her in, he stepped out into the hallway. “There is much that needs to be done,” he whispered to Ecthelion.

Ecthelion nodded and whispered back, “I know, meldir. Let me handle it. You stay here and take care of our penneth. I know when she wakes she will need you. Besides, you need your rest. You look exhausted. You need to keep up your strength for her.”

Glorfindel sighed and said, “Hannon le (Thank you), Thel, for everything,” turning to Erestor he then said, “Hannon le again.”

Erestor nodded, “If there is anything that I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask.”

Glorfindel smiled sadly and had to hold himself back from giving the scribe a hug, knowing that it was not his place to do so. He barely knew him and he was obviously Ecthelion’s love interest. Saying goodnight, he turned and reentered Gailwen’s bedchamber, to sit vigil through the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gondolin, 511 of the First Age

Glorfindel stood as he watched the partners on the dance floor sway to the music. It was not long until his eyes were drawn to a particular pair, one with chestnut hair and a jovial demeanor and the other with raven locks and a more reserved manner. How Glorfindel longed to hold the scribe in his arms, to be the one to twirl him around the dance floor, but it was not to be. Erestor was with Ecthelion. He would not hurt his meldir by pursuing his melethron (m. lover), but it did not matter anyway. Erestor seemed quite happy and content with Thel and he supposed that was how it should be, no matter how much his soul longed for it to be differently.

A tinkle of laughter drew his attention over to the refreshment table and he could not help but smile as he gazed at his betrothed. It did not seem like it had been five years since Feredir’s death. After his funeral, Glorfindel had brought Gailwen to live with him. It took a while, but slowly they helped each other through their grief and had grown closer in the process. Their friendship grew until the night of Gailwen’s majority celebration, when after one kiss they saw each other in a different light.

Glorfindel had resigned himself to the fact that he would never have Erestor, for the scribe loved Ecthelion. So it was only natural that his heart sought out someone else to fill it. Glorfindel knew that he would never be able to give her his soul and though they did not talk about it, he knew it was the same with her. But that did stop them from loving each other. It was just not an all consuming love. They were comfortable and content with their love and with all that they had went through and shared, it only seemed natural that they join their hearts and get married.

As the song ended, Glorfindel looked back to the dance floor and watched as Thel practically dragged Erestor out of the ballroom. He sighed as he went and gathered his betrothed for a spin upon the dance floor.

Through most of the dance, Erestor had felt Glorfindel’s eyes upon him, and he had to will himself not to look his way. Even after all these years, Erestor did not understand this connection that he felt for the golden warrior. It got so intense at times that it seemed that he could not breathe without having some kind of contact with Glorfindel. How desperately did Erestor wish that it was Ecthelion that he had this pull towards, but it was not to be. Though Ecthelion did fill part of Erestor’s heart, he would never claim it fully. And now the one that could was betrothed.

A tug on his arm pulled Erestor from his thoughts and he gasped, “Thel, where are you taking me?”

Ecthelion did not reply, just quickened his pace until he came to a storage room, deciding this would do for his purposes. He drew Erestor in and shut the door, cloaking them in darkness.

“What…” Erestor started to say but found himself pressed up against some shelves and his mouth claimed in a fiery kiss.

Ecthelion moaned as he rocked against Erestor, letting his melethron feel his erection. When he felt Erestor start to harden, he nibbled his way to a delectable ear and hissed, “That was pure torture, holding you while we danced. I need you!”

Erestor did not have a chance to say anything before he found himself turned around and his robe hiked up with his leggings down around his ankles. Erestor yelped as he felt himself spread open and his melethron’s tongue lap at his entrance. By the time Ecthelion had prepared him with his tongue and fingers, Erestor’s elfhood wept continuously and he was pushing back onto Thel’s fingers.

Ecthelion lapped once more at Erestor’s puckered opening before he wetted his arousal with his own pre-cum and saliva and stood. Grasping his melethron’s hips, Ecthelion slipped into Erestor, drawing a moan from the both of them. Thel rested his forehead on Erestor’s shoulder before he pulled nearly all the way out and then pushed back in. Soon the pace quickened, the passion between them building to a feverish pitch until both of them shouted out their completion.

Ecthelion carefully withdrew and turned Erestor back around to face him. Laying a gentle kiss to his lips, he asked, “Are you all right?”

Erestor laid his head against Thel’s chest and nodded, “Yes, but do not ask me to dance again tonight; my bones are mush.”

Ecthelion chuckled as he kissed Erestor’s forehead and felt along the shelf behind him and took a towel and proceeded to clean the both of them.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel held Gailwen close as he twirled her around the dance floor. Many couples were enjoying the fine minstrels playing when suddenly a shout was heard coming from the hallway. Slowly, one by one everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to watch as one of the palace guards came rushing into the ballroom.

“My King! My King Turgon!”

King Turgon stood and raised his hand to still the music and that was when all could hear drums in the distance along with other shouts. “What is it?” King Turgon asked the guard who came to a stop before him.

“We are under attack, My King!”

King Turgon stood there a moment, not wanting to believe what was happening until the Lords of his city started to call for those of their house to gather their arms and prepare for battle.

“Adar?”

The King turned and looked into Idril’s eyes and knew that he should have never allowed pride to blind him; he should have listened to his daughter’s mate. “I am so sorry, penneth (young one).”

Idril hugged her Adar tightly before leaving the ballroom with her hervenn (husband) to gather their child and others, to take them to the secret passage.

Ecthelion and Erestor were almost back to the ballroom when chaos broke out. Stopping an ellon (m. elf) as he passed, Thel asked, “What has happened?”

“My Lord, we are under attack. The King has order the warriors to the battlements and to help the citizens to the secret passage.”

Ecthelion felt a hand squeeze his arm and he looked into the disbelieving eyes of his melethron. “Come, we must seek out Fin,” he said as he took Erestor’s hand and they ran the rest of the way to the ballroom.

Glorfindel instructed those of his warriors that had been attending the ball to go gather their armor and tell the servants and their families to flee to the passage. To take only what they needed to survive. He turned and found his arms full of a shaking elleth (f. elf), “Ai (Ah), Gail,” he said as he held her tightly.

“You must come with me to the passage, you must leave with me,” Gailwen begged.

Glorfindel leaned back and looked into her deep green eyes and said, “You know that I cannot. I am a Lord of Gondolin. I am a warrior and must do my duty to protect the city and its inhabitants.”

Gailwen shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. She gripped the front of Glorfindel’s tunic and said, “But I am your responsibility. You must protect me. I will not survive if I lose you, Fin. I will not!”

Glorfindel pressed his lips against hers and then pulled her into an embrace once more. When he heard his name being called he looked up and saw Ecthelion and Erestor approaching. Taking Gailwen’s hand, Glorfindel made his way to them and said, “Erestor, you must take Gailwen and yourself to the secret passageway. I am placing her under your protection.”

Erestor knew that he and Gailwen would only be a hindrance to Ecthelion and Glorfindel. They were warriors and they were not. Nodding, he said, “I will protect her with my life. I need to go and gather the other scribes. They are probably scared and none of them know how to reach the passageway.”

Glorfindel thanked him and turned and buried his hands in Gailwen’s hair. He stared into her eyes and proceeded to kiss her tears away then captured her lips in a gentle kiss. Stepping back, he said, “You must do this for me, penneth. You must stay safe for me. I cannot concentrate on my fighting if I have to worry about you.”

She shook her head, not wanting to be parted from him. Clutching his hand, she started dragging him towards the door, not wanting to give him up, but knowing deep down that she must. When she was pulled to a stop and turned, she buried her face into his chest and cried, “I love you!”

Glorfindel buried his nose in Gailwen’s hair, breathing in her scent, “And I love you, penneth.”

Erestor stared in envy at the two and then found himself taken into strong arms and his mouth being ravished in a desperate kiss. After the need for air broke them apart, Erestor stared up into hazel eyes and said, “You will take extra care for me? I do not want to lose you, Thel.”

Ecthelion nodded and replied, “You must stay safe for me as well. You must help the others and then get to safety. Saes (please), do not take any chances.”

Erestor pulled Ecthelion down once more for a lingering kiss before he stepped out of his melethron’s arms and took hold of Gailwen’s hand. “I will take care of her, Glorfindel. Just go,” Erestor said, looking long into Glorfindel’s cerulean eyes, longing to tell him how he truly felt about him. But he knew that it would hurt others and it would be for naught, since Glorfindel loved Gailwen, his betrothed.

Glorfindel squeezed Erestor’s shoulder before he caressed Gailwen’s cheek and then turned and left the ballroom quickly, heading to his house to gather his weapons and to rally his warriors. Both Erestor and Gailwen stared after Glorfindel and then the scribe led the still tearful elleth to the wing of the palace where the libraries and council chambers were held. When they walked into the main library, they found the scribes running around, frightened until they saw Erestor and they all surrounded him.

Erestor moved as best as he could into the chamber as the scribes all talked at once. Finally after Erestor had tried to get them all to settle down, he let out a shrill whistle and everyone quieted. “We are under attack. I need you to gather your families and meet me out in the palace courtyard. I will then guide you all to a secret passageway out of the city. Now, we must hurry!” Erestor shouted and chaos resumed.

Gailwen stayed near the door as she watched Erestor talk to the other scribes. She looked back out into the hallway and saw other elves rushing past. Looking back once more at Erestor, she made a decision and quietly left the library, she needed to see Glorfindel just one more time.

Erestor managed to get all of the elves moving and turned to tell Gailwen that they needed to go and gather a few supplies, but found that she was gone. Knowing where she must have gone, he raced out of the library to the House of the Golden Flower.

Gailwen had first made her way back to her and Glorfindel’s home and finding him not there, rushed off in search of him. It took what seemed like forever to finally find him, having to duck and hide from roving orcs. Finally she came to the Kings Square where a great battle was taking place and in the heart of it fought Glorfindel.

Glorfindel swung his sword and brought down another foe, only to have it replaced by another. One after another he slew the enemy, moving with practiced skill, never giving his opponents a chance to strike him. Suddenly an arrow whizzed passed him, barely missing him, and he looked up and saw one of his warriors who lowered his bow and pointed behind him. Turning, Glorfindel gasped, “Gailwen!”

Gailwen stared down in horror at the orc that lay at her feet, its black blood starting to pool around its grotesque form. Shaking, she looked up and locked eyes with her betrothed, “Glorfindel!”

Glorfindel waved his arm and started fighting his way towards her, “Get back!” he shouted.

Gailwen stumbled back and came up against a column. Resting there, her chest rose and fell rapidly as she desperately tried to draw in breath. She silently berated herself, knowing that she should have heeded Glorfindel’s wishes and stayed with Erestor. Finally Glorfindel reached her and she threw herself into his arms. “I am sorry! I just needed to see you one more time. Saes forgive me!” she cried.

Glorfindel could not find it in him to be angry with her. He knew that she was frightened and rightfully so. She had already lost her Adar and now she was losing her home and most likely him. Holding her tightly, he breathed in her scent and said, “Shh, meleth (love), it is all right, I am not angry with you. Now where is Erestor?”

She pulled back to look up in to his eyes and said, “I snuck away from him. I know I should not have, but I could not help myself.”

Glorfindel rested his hand on her cheek and then Erestor suddenly appeared. “There you are, Gailwen! I have been looking for you everywhere. Thank the Valar that you are all right!” Erestor gasped, out of breath.

“My Lord!” one of Glorfindel’s warriors shouted and he turned as four of his guards surrounded them to stave off the five orcs that were lumbering towards them. Glorfindel turned and helped them fight them off. Suddenly smoke filled the air around them and a mighty roar was heard. All in the vicinity turned and looked on in dread as the Balrog, Gothmog, came crashing into the King’s Square, swinging his giant black axe.

Erestor’s eye caught a glint of silver and he looked to the left of the fiery demon. Suddenly Erestor was robbed of breath and he whispered, “No…” as he watched Ecthelion stand in the Balrog’s path.

Glorfindel stared on in impotent rage as he watched his best meldir stand his ground and engage the Balrog with unswerving valor. It seemed that all in the Square came to a standstill to watch the battle between the two Lords, one who walked the path of shadow and the other the path of light. The two circled one another in a deadly dance, one advancing while the other blocked its parry. Suddenly the demon emitted an angry bellow as Ecthelion’s blade struck home, piercing the Gothmog’s evil heart. In his rage, the Balrog swung his mighty axe with his last breath and Ecthelion went flying, landing in a heap yards away.

“NO!” Erestor screamed as he ran to his melethron’s side, thinking of only reaching Thel.

Glorfindel’s heart lurched as he watched Ecthelion fall to the ground and then he stepped forward when Erestor went running towards him, “Erestor, wait! Come back!” he yelled after him.

Gailwen wept as she watched Erestor fall to his knees and gather Thel into his arms. When Glorfindel turned to her and told her to stay put, she nodded and watched as he started making his way to their fallen meldir.

Ecthelion felt no pain, he felt nothing. Slowly his sight came back to him and he found himself looking up into thewatery brown eyes of his melethron. Coughing, he gasped, “Erestor…safe…”

Erestor carefully pulled Ecthelion’s helm off and he brushed the hair out of his eyes. He stared down into Thel’s glazed eyes and knew that the call to Mandos’ Halls was whispering strongly to his melethron. Taking a shuddering breath, Erestor said, “Shh Thel, do not speak. I have you now. You were so brave, my noble warrior. I…I love you Ecthelion.”

Ecthelion tried to smile up at his melethron but could not find the strength to. He knew that Erestor did not truly love him, not in the way that they had hoped for. He just hoped that should Erestor survive, that he would find the one that would give his faer the love and devotion that he needed and deserved. “Er..Erestor…go…you…safe…”

Erestor leaned down and kissed Ecthelion’s brow as the light left his melethron’s eyes. He did not know how long he sat there, oblivious to the battle around him, to the ring of Ecthelion’s guards who protected him, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Glorfindel standing there, with his own tears falling down his face. That was when Erestor remembered where he was and that he had others who needed him. Stroking Ecthelion’s cheek one last time, he gently laid him onto the ground and stood. Taking extra care, Erestor followed Glorfindel back to where Gailwen stood and took her hand.

Glorfindel assessed his warriors that were nearest to him and chose three that he knew had family and pointed to them, “You three will escort them to the passageway. I want you to guard the entrance until you think you can no more, then I want you to go through, barring the door from the inside. When you come to about midpoint through, there is another doorway and I want you to bar that as well, in hopes to slow down any pursuers that you may have. I am placing Gailwen and Erestor in you care. You are to meet up with them and guard them with your lives, seeing that they make it to safety. Do you understand me?”

All three warriors fisted their hands and placed them over their hearts and said, “Yes, My Lord, we will not let you down.”

Glorfindel nodded then looked to the ones that meant most to him. Hugging them both, he said, “You must hurry now. Saes, stay safe for me. Take care of each other.”

Gailwen and Erestor both nodded and said that they would and then they were being led away from the King’s Square and through the city. After they had stopped to gather the scribes, they made their way as stealthily as they could to the passageway, managing to not lose a soul.

It seemed like hours to Glorfindel since Erestor and Gailwen had left the King’s Square. He and his warriors repeatedly pushed the enemy back, cutting a swath through them until they came to the edge of the city. They were hard pressed to keep the flow of orcs and wolves from pouring through a break in the city’s wall. They managed to gain more ground and took up a line of defense just outside the city wall when they heard a rumbling roar in the distance. Glancing towards their left, they had thought this day could not get any worse, until they saw the fleeing elves trying to reach the pass of Cirith Thoronath and the Balrog that made a beeline to cut off their escape.

Glorfindel could not believe his eyes and gasped, “Gailwen…Erestor…” Looking wildly around, he spotted some war horses and ran to the nearest one, hopping up onto its back. Urging the horse as fast as he could go, Glorfindel leaned over the beast’s neck, and seemed to those who watch the horse and rider, as if they were one.

The elves that were scrambling towards the pass came to a stop as they saw the evil demon that blocked their path. They trembled in fear as the fiery Balrog cracked his whip and roared, his malice reverberating against the mountains and down into the valley. It made their blood run cold and it was as if a shadow had swallowed Anór’s light. Suddenly, a knight on a white steed came galloping up to the demon and emitted a battle cry, filling everyone’s soul with hope and light.

Gailwen gripped Erestor’s arm as she gasped, “No, Glorfindel!”

Erestor could not tear his eyes away from the golden warrior who so bravely rushed to their rescue. Glorfindel repeatedly rushed the demon, over and over, driving him ever closer to the cliffs edge until the Balrog got in a strike that knocked the warrior off his horse.

Glorfindel tucked into the fall and rolled, regaining his feet. He ducked and turned just in time to avoid the fiery whip of his enemy. That was when he heard an ominous voice whisper inside his head, ‘Give up, puny ellon, you are no match for me. I will crush you and then all those that you care for.’

Glorfindel shook his head, doubt filling his spirit, weakening his already battered heart. Stumbling, Glorfindel raised his shield to block a blow from his opponent and was pushed to his knees. Laughter echoed through his mind, drawing him towards the shadow, when suddenly a wellspring of light and strength poured into him, bolstering his courage.

Erestor knew something was terribly wrong, knew it before he saw Glorfindel fall to his knees. Without thinking of the consequences, Erestor connected with Glorfindel and poured all of his strength and will into the weary warrior. ‘Get up, Fin! Fight!’

Glorfindel stood and those who watched stared in awe as there seemed to be a golden light that surrounded the warrior. He advanced on the Balrog, giving the demon pause after he had thoroughly thought that he had beaten the warrior’s spirit down, and it gave the opening that Glorfindel needed. Twisting quickly, Glorfindel feigned left, only to turn right at the last possible second and pierced the demon’s side with his sword, pushing him off kilter. Glorfindel watched as the Balrog flailed his arms, desperately grappling for some purchase so he could stay his fall over the cliff. As his foe tumbled over the cliff, Glorfindel turned and look down at the crowd of elves and whispered, “Erestor…”

Just then, the Balrog snapped his whip and it snaked around Glorfindel’s ankle, pulling him over the cliffs edge. “NO!” Gailwen screamed.

Glorfindel fell, knowing that this was the end. How he regretted leaving Gailwen behind, that he left this life without telling Erestor how much he loved him. It passed through Glorfindel’s mind as he fell onto the Balrog’s body, the flames licking at his body, that he should be feeling more pain than he was. That was when he felt Erestor’s spirit clinging to his. His faer cried out in anguish, knowing that Erestor must be in a lot of pain, and because of him. Slowly he felt his spirit seep out of him and he whispered in his mind, ‘Erestor…’

Erestor gasped and fell to his knees as pain gripped him. He was still connected to Glorfindel. He felt as if he was on fire and his body was racked with pain. Erestor knew that it was dangerous to stay connected with him but he would not let Glorfindel die alone, so he resolutely held onto the link. He tried to take on as much of Glorfindel’s pain as he could, to ease the warrior’s passing. Erestor’s sight dimmed and with Glorfindel’s last breath, he fell into darkness, his name whispering through his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

115 of the Third Age

Erestor stood in the doorway, watching Gailwen as she sat staring out of the balcony doors. This was her habit these days, gazing out at nature but not seeing any of it. How he wished that he could console her, but she had just lost too much to keep her faer (soul) strong; she was fading. He had hoped that after some time, she would work through her grief, but he knew now that she would not, at least not here on Arda.

Walking to her, Erestor knelt before her and said, “Gailwen, it is time to go.”

Slowly she looked at Erestor, seeing his worry for her and she rested her hand upon his cheek, “Yes, it is time.”

Erestor tried giving her a bright smile, but could not keep the tears from his eyes. He had promised Glorfindel that he would take care of her and now he was sending her away, unable to follow. He was torn, he wanted to sail West with her but he also felt compelled to stay, as if he had more that he needed to accomplish before he found his rest in Aman. In the end, it was Gailwen who insisted that he stay. He just hoped that she would find the peace that she so desperately needed, when she reached the white shores of Aman. Standing, he took her hand and led her to the door. After helping her with her cloak, they walked in silence, holding hands, to the dock and the ship awaiting her.

Gailwen’s steps slowed as they reached the gangplank and she turned, throwing her arms around Erestor, “I shall miss you, mellon nín (my friend).”

Erestor held her tightly before he kissed her brow, “And I will miss you. I will see you again.”

Gailwen nodded, blinking back tears. She knew that Erestor needed to stay, that he had things that he must do, but she was apprehensive about leaving on her own. Erestor was her last connection to her past. He was the last thing that she had to remind her of Glorfindel, the times where Ecthelion, Erestor, Glorfindel, and she would have dinner and then sit afterwards, playing games or just enjoying each others company. Now she would really be alone. Trying to be brave, Gailwen straightened her spine and turned and boarded the boat. She stood at the railing, the wind whipping her hair as the ship set sail, never looking away from Erestor until he was but a speck in the distance.

“Erestor…Erestor…Erestor!”

Erestor was brought out of his memories at the sound of his name. “Where were you meldir? If it was not for your horse, you would have wandered off the path.”

Erestor looked to his left at Gildor who rode beside him, “I am sorry, mellon nín, I was lost in the past.”

Gildor looked deeply into Erestor’s eyes and said, “The nightmares are back.”

Erestor quickly looked away, not able to suppress the shudder that went through his body as his mind filled with shadowy images of smoke, fire, pain, and death. He had not had the dreams in years, centuries actually, and he did not know what had brought them into existence again. He had hoped that Gildor would not have noticed, but he had never been able to hide anything from him, especially when he woke up in his arms.

Gildor frowned as he looked at Erestor, not missing the dark circles underneath his eyes, nor the haunted look that filled them. He still, to this day, did not know what the nightmares were of, that tormented Erestor so. Gildor would not ask his melethron about the dreams and knew that when Erestor was ready to speak of them, he would. When he saw Erestor shift positions and wince, he felt guilt and he whispered, “I should not have taken you so roughly.”

Erestor slowed his horse and let the others in their traveling party ride ahead. They were on their way back to Imladris, having escorted the Lady Celebrían to Lothlórien to visit with her parents. Arching his brow, Erestor said, “Did you hear me complain?”

Gildor smiled, seeing desire pool in those warm, brown eyes, “No, as a matter of fact, you were crying for more,” he chuckled.

Erestor narrowed his eyes and said, “Oh, you just wait. We will see how much you beg and plead the next time.”

Gildor moved his horse closer to Erestor’s and leaned over and growled, “That sounds like a challenge, melethron (m. lover).”

Erestor wrapped his hand around the back of Gildor’s neck and pulled him close. Before he could form a reply, shouts of warning from up ahead and the two looked as a guard, Tiredion, came galloping towards them, “We are under attack! Orcs…ambush!”

Gildor drew his sword just when an arrow whizzed through the air, striking Erestor in the shoulder, knocking him off his horse. Pain pierced Erestor’s shoulder, causing him to gasp as he hit the ground hard. Not a moment later, Gildor was kneeling next to him, asking, “Erestor, are you all right?”

Erestor shook his head, dizzy from the fall. He cringed as he moved his arm and pulled on the arrow that was embedded in his shoulder. “I am okay, meldir (m. friend), it did not hit anything major,” Erestor panted, not able to hide the pain that was radiating from his shoulder.

As Gildor took a look at the wound, he cursed when he saw that its tip was barbed, to cause the most damage when removed from the victim. Suddenly they heard footsteps crashing through the foliage behind them and Gildor turned just in time to see five orcs coming into view. Quickly, Gildor and Tiredion engaged the foul beasts, trying to keep them as far away from Erestor as possible. Sounds of another battle farther along the path could be heard but they had too much to worry about in their own predicament to give it much thought.

Erestor knew that he could not just sit there while the others fought for their lives, so he grasped the shaft of the arrow and tugged, only to cry out. Realizing that the arrow would not come out easily, he gritted his teeth as he held the arrow tightly to his body and snapped the shaft. It took precious minutes for Erestor to stop shaking from the pain but finally he gained his feet, pulling his knife from his boot, having long ago learned to defend himself. Entering into the fray, Erestor drew one of the orcs away from Gildor, doing his best to stay focused on his opponent and not the pain that was burning through his body. Erestor hissed from the pain as the orc came at his left, causing him to lift his arm to block the blow which tore at his wound.

Gildor was worried, every once in a while he would see Erestor falter, and he knew that something was wrong. By the time they had managed to defeat their foes, Erestor was pale and swaying on his feet. When Gildor went to steady him with a hand upon his arm, Erestor stumbled.

Erestor could start to feel his body growing cold, and he knew that the arrow must have been poisoned. He had a gash along his forearm and another cut in his side, making him even weaker from the loss of blood. Leaning heavily onto Gildor, he gasped, “Poison.”

Gildor cursed as he laid Erestor onto the ground, “I need my pack!” he shouted to Tiredion who quickly retrieved it from the Noldo’s horse. When he was handed his pack, Gildor rummaged through it, taking out bandages and medicines. “Tiredion, I need you to mix a few of the herbs into a skin of wine. You will find one in my saddle bag.”

Erestor’s breath hitched as Gildor cut the fabric away from his wounded shoulder. He could see the worry in his melethron’s eyes and he tried to ease it by saying, “I think meldir, I am getting slow in my old age.”

Gildor looked into Erestor’s eyes and saw the pain in them and he gave him a small encouraging smile, “Yes, you are. But do not worry. When you are all healed I will expect you to work on that, and I know of some good training courses that will help.”

Erestor chuckled, “Oh, I bet you do.”

Gildor knew that the poison was beyond his ability to heal and that he needed Elrond. Knowing that it would take far too long to take the arrow out and not wanting to cause more pain to Erestor, he packed what healing herbs that he had into the wound as best as he could. Once he had Erestor’s shoulder bound and his other wounds looked at, the Advisor was floating in and out of consciousness. Gently lifting Erestor’s head, he pressed the skin of wine to his lips and said, “Meldir, drink. This will dull the pain. I will need to ride hard, for we are still a good half day’s ride from Imladris.”

Erestor struggled to stay awake, only managing to take a few swallows of the wine before darkness took him again, sinking him into fire and pain. Gildor knew that Erestor did not drink enough of the wine, but there was not much he could do about it at the time. He would just have to give him more when he awoke again. With the help of Tiredion, he mounted his horse and then cradled Erestor in front of him, ignoring his own wounds. Heading along the path, they met up with the others in their company to find the wounded being treated, and the rest of the orcs dead. Finding that no elf had been lost in the ambush, he split the elves into two groups, one to ride ahead with him and the other to stay and help the wounded to follow.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel wandered through the garden behind the Last Homely House, deep in thought. Three weeks, it had been three weeks since he had returned to a much changed Arda. He stopped under an apple tree, abloom, and rested his hand upon its trunk. Closing his eyes, he felt the peace of the tree’s spirit wash through him, how he needed to feel that when his own was filled with fear and doubt. Why he was chosen to return to Arda, he was not sure. Mandos had told him that he must guide and protect the son of Eärendil, but he was just another ellon. Those that he had met here in Imladris, though, theywere kind and respectful, Glorfindel did not miss the awe and reverence in their eyes. He heard the whispered conversations, praise given to his courage and sacrifice to stand so bravely before the demon Balrog. But Glorfindel knew that he did nothing that any other warrior would have not done to save those that he loved. And what is more, none of them knew how close he had came to giving in tothe whispering shadow had it not been for a certain dark-haired ellon.

Glorfindel slid to the ground to lean against the tree as his thoughts filled with Erestor, as it did often. Upon his return, Glorfindel had spoken to Lord Círdan and learned that he had personally built the ship that had carried Gailwen to Valinor’s shores. He also knew from Mandos that some time after Gailwen had reached Aman, her faer had recovered and she was now happily bound to her soul mate, and that truly made Glorfindel happy. Eager to see Erestor again, he had pushed his traveling party to reach Imladris after being told that Erestor serve the Lord Elrond. He had been disappointed at finding the Advisor away, but quickly realized that this would give him time to prepare himself, knowing that he would not be able to hide his feelings any longer for the dark-haired beauty. He could still feel the moment of his death; feel Erestor’s faer, as he suffered right along with him. He owed much to Erestor.

Elrond was in the apothecary, checking the supplies of healing herbs when he heard his name being shouted. Rushing out into the main healing hall, he was met by one of the border guards. “Lord Elrond! The party returning from Lothlórien was attacked and some of the elves were injured. My Lord, Master Erestor was one of them. I was told to tell you that he has been poisoned by an arrow,” the ellon gasped out, desperately trying to regain his breath.

Elrond paled as he started instructing the other healers to prepare for the injured and asked, “How far are they behind you?”

“Not far, maybe a quarter an hour.”

Elrond thanked the guard and told him to rest as he shouted for Melpomaen to follow him out to the courtyard to wait for the party to arrive. Along their way, they came across Glorfindel. “Glorfindel, come with us, quickly. The party returning from Lothlórien will be here soon and some are injured from an orc attack,” Elrond said as he led the way outside.

Glorfindel fell into step beside Elrond and could not help to ask, “Erestor?”

Elrond hesitated but then said, “I am told that he was struck by a poisoned arrow.”

Glorfindel missed a step as his heart filled with dread. He paled and clinched his fists, praying with all his might that Erestor’s wounds were not too serious and that he would recover from the poison. When he saw Gildor ride up, with an unconscious Erestor in his arms, he strode forward and took the reins of his horse.

Gildor stared down at Glorfindel in shock, hardly believing his eyes. “Glorfindel, what…” but he could say no more as Erestor’s body jerked and he moaned.

Glorfindel reached up and said, “Gildor, give Erestor to me and I will carry him into the Healing Hall.”

Gildor unconsciously held onto Erestor tighter, reluctant to release his hold on his melethron. The whole journey back to Imladris had been torture, having to feel Erestor shudder and hear his groans of pain. There weretimes where he had to stop to force more of the wine down Erestor to help with the pain, which did not seem to help much. Gildor did not know how long he sat there, staring helplessly at Glorfindel when he heard Elrond’s voice demanding, “Gildor, give Erestor to Glorfindel now! Look at you, you can hardly stay atop your horse, how do you think you will manage to dismount, let alone carry Erestor to the Healing Hall without dropping him?”

Gildor looked at Elrond and blushed, realizing that he was being ridiculously selfish. “I am sorry,” he whispered as he carefully handed Erestor down into Glorfindel’s arms, who did not say a word, just turned and headed back into the Last Homely House.

Elrond sighed as he put his hand upon Gildor’s knee. “Mellon nín, there is nothing to be sorry for. Come, I will have Melpomaen help you into the Healing Hall. I must see to Erestor. How far are the other injured behind you?” Elrond queried.

When Gildor did not answer but just stared at the entrance to the Last Homely House, Tiredion came forward, “My Lord, I believe they are about an hour or two behind us.”

Elrond nodded and said as he turned back to the Last Homely House, “Melpomaen, see to Gildor and Tiredion, if you will?”

Melpomaen went and helped Gildor from his horse, “Aye, Elrond.”

Glorfindel walked as quickly as he dared to the Healing Hall, bearing his precious cargo lovingly in his arms. He could not help from burying his nose into Erestor’s sable locks, breathing in deep of his scent, finding that after all these years, the Advisor still used the same oil in his hair, honeysuckle. The Slayer wanted to weep as he felt Erestor’s clammy skin and how his body shook uncontrollably. Glorfindel gazed down into the dark-haired ellon’s pale face, noting the lines of pain at the corner of his eyes and mouth. Before he knew it, he was looking into pain-glazed brown eyes. Slowing his footsteps, Glorfindel came to a stop, wanting to fall into those beautiful eyes for all of eternity.

Erestor knew that something was different. No longer was his body being jostled about from being carried atop a horse. Feeling strong arms holding him, he swam up from the shadows and opened his eyes, finding worried indigo eyes staring down at him. Moments passed as he gazed into those blue depths, hardly believing that he was looking at the one that his faer so longed for. Fearing that he was dreaming, he murmured, “Fin…”

Glorfindel whispered Erestor’s name, only to have the Advisor fall into unconsciousness again. Knowing that he must hurry, he just made it to the Healing Hall when Elrond caught up with him. “Lay him here, Glorfindel,” Elrond said as he pointed to a table that had been prepared in advance.

Glorfindel laid Erestor down, caressing his cheek before moving just far enough away to allow the healers access to him. Fisting his hands, Glorfindel watched as Elrond and another healer cut away Erestor’s tunic and both of them gasped as they saw the arrow and the blackened skin around it. When he heard Elrond ask for his surgical tools, fury took hold of him, knowing that Erestor would have to suffer more than he had already and would forever bear a scar from the evil creature’s weapon.

Elrond could feel anger coming from someone and he looked up and saw the blue fire that filled Glorfindel’s eyes. Knowing that the Slayer had known Erestor from his previous life, he motioned for Glorfindel to come forward. “Glorfindel, I will need you to help hold Erestor down while I cut the arrow from his body. I need him to be kept as still as possible, for time is running short. I need to get medicine into the wound to stop the spread of the poison,” Elrond stated as he set a few clean scalpels onto the table next to Erestor, along with bandages.

Glorfindel nodded, thankful that he could help, needing to do something. Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel carefully laid his arms and upper part of his body over Erestor’s chest. “I am ready, Elrond,” he said.

Elrond nodded and clinching his teeth, set to the task of removing the barbed arrow as gently as possible. By the time he was done, both he and Glorfindel were sweating from trying to hold down Erestor who cried out in pain and tried to move away from the hurt that Elrond had to inflict on him in order to remove the arrow. Finally Elrond succeeded in taking out the arrow and started to clean the wound, applying herbs to draw the poison from Erestor’s body. Not knowing how much of the poison had taken hold of Erestor, Elrond laid his hand over his Advisor’s forehead and closed his eyes, seeking outside of himself and into the injured ellon. What he saw made Elrond’s eyes snap open and he hissed as he jerked his hand away.

At seeing Elrond’s reaction and the fear in the Lord’s eyes, Glorfindel asked, “What, Elrond, what is wrong?”

Elrond stared down at Erestor, shaking his head, “I do not understand.”

Glorfindel nearly shouted, “Elrond, what is it?!?”

“Fire, when I connected to Erestor, I saw, I *felt* fire and shadow. It is like he is trapped in some kind of nightmare. I do not understand, I have never known a poison to pull its victim into some kind of mind trap,” Elrond said, truly worried.

Glorfindel became sick to his stomach. ‘It could not be,’ he thought, ‘It was not possible, was it?’ What Elrond had described was what Glorfindel suffered every night upon his resurrection. Could Erestor be suffering the memory of his death? He knew that Erestor had been connected to him when he died. Was this new? Or has Erestor been suffering these nightmares all these many years since his death? The thought of Erestor suffering because of him, albeit not from his doing, made him want to cry out in rage.

At Glorfindel’s look of horror and his lack of response, Elrond asked, “Glorfindel, do you know something, something that can help me? I barely made contact with Erestor yet I know that if he is not released from this nightmare, we will lose him.”

Erestor’s mind cried out in pain as he spiraled down into the flames of his nightmares. He was being pulled along, his flesh burning, the pain engulfing him. Calling out for Glorfindel, the pain and despair of knowing that he was forever lost to him caused more harm to him than the fire ever could. Down and down he sank into the shadows, just wanting the pain to stop. All the while, whispers floated through the shadows, beckoning him, promising that the pain would stop if he would just give in and let go. So long had he fought, so long had he tried to live with the loneliness and memories of his beloved’s death that he was unbearably tired. He just wanted it to stop.

Glorfindel did not answer, but lay down next to Erestor and drew him into his arms. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Elrond, you must connect with Erestor and me,” before he pushed his mind into the Advisor’s, connecting with him like the times that Erestor had.

Elrond sat on the other side of Erestor and took hold of his hand, centering himself and letting his spirit flow through him and into his meldir. Down and down he was pulled along with Glorfindel until they were immersed in shadows and fire, finding Erestor’s faer, it was like a dim light, slowly waning. Determined not to lose his meldir, he tried to approach Erestor’s faer, only to have the shadow become even more oppressive, as if it were alive. Evil filled his mind, whispering doubt, and Elrond had to fight to drown it out, knowing that it was not real.

Glorfindel felt the familiar shadowy presence, felt the fiery breath wash over his non-corporal being, and he knew that it was the lingering footprints of the demon that took his life, but not again. He let his faer shine bright, ruthlessly pushing forth and connecting to Erestor’s, drawing on Elrond’s strength to pull the Advisor up and out of the shadows and flames. Glorfindel’s spirit sang as it weaved together with its mate, causing the two faer to pulse with a light that was almost blinding in its radiance.

Slowly Elrond returned to his body and stared in awe at what he had just witnessed. He had felt the connection between his meldir and Glorfindel, and it made him wonder about the relationship between the two. If he were not mistaken, it felt like the bond between faer mates. He watched as Glorfindel came back to himself and opened his eyes. Just then, Gildor came forward and asked, “Elrond, is Erestor going to be all right?”

Elrond stood and started packing the wound with fresh herbs as he said, “Yes, I believe so. We just need to watch him and make sure that his wound is properly cared for and the poison should be drawn from his body.”

Gildor sighed with relief, grasping Erestor’s hand with his, wanting very much to be the one lying next to him. As if Glorfindel read his mind, the Slayer released his hold on Erestor and stood and backed away. Gildor did not miss the possessive look the Slayer gave Erestor, but was too distracted at the time to give it much thought, so he lay down and took Erestor into his arms. “Hannon le (Thank you), Glorfindel, for helping with Erestor; I do not know what I would do if something were to happen to him,” Gildor said as he kissed Erestor’s temple.

Pain gripped Glorfindel’s heart as he watched Gildor lovingly hold Erestor in his arms, laying kisses upon his face. As tears filled his eyes, Glorfindel walked away, blinking rapidly to stop them from falling. He took big gulps of air and then called to Elrond. When the Peredhil came to stand before him, Glorfindel glanced once more at Gildor and Erestor before looking at Elrond and asking, “Elrond, I must know something. What is the relationship between Erestor and Gildor?”

Elrond stared at the warrior and noted his rigidstance and the pain that filled his eyes and he replied, “I am unsure of how serious it is, but I do know that they are melethryn (m. pl. lover).”

Glorfindel’s heart lurched as, yet again, he was denied Erestor. Knowing that he needed time to steel himself, to build a wall around his heart, he said, “Elrond, I will be leaving for patrol duty as soon as I can ready my horse and gather provisions.”

Elrond frowned and asked, “What of Erestor? Surely he would like to see you when he wakes. Though I think he is out of the woods, he is in need of rest and care and I believe that he would want to see you, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel felt guilty about leaving Erestor, knowing full well that he would want to see him when he awoke, but he was not sure whether he would be able to hide his feeling for the dark-haired ellon (m. elf). It would be hard enough to go on, living close to Erestor and not able to have him, but it would be all that much worse should he know of his feelings. Shaking his head, Glorfindel pleaded, “Saes (Please), Elrond, do not ask me my reasons for leaving. Will you just tell Erestor that I will see him when I return?”

Elrond knew that he could not sway Glorfindel so he nodded, “Yes, mellon nín, I will tell him,” and with that, the Slayer turned and strode out of the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gildor stood in the archway that led into the orchard and watched Erestor sitting on a bench under the cherry trees, its blossoms lending their sweet scent to the air. How forlorn his meldir looked, still pale with dark circles under his eyes, and looking so frail. It had been a month since the orc attack and even though his body was healing, his spirit seemed to flounder. Anger took hold of Gildor, anger and resolution. Erestor had stayed in a deep healing sleep for three days, the longest in Gildor’s life, and his body made rapid recovery. Gildor had held his melethron through those days, and he heard, much to his heart’s chagrin, Erestor calling out Glorfindel’s name over and over. Gildor knew that he had no claim on Erestor’s heart or faer, knew that one day the Advisor would find his heart’s mate, but part of him was reluctant to let him go, even though he knew that it was the right thing to do. Upon waking, the first thing Erestor had asked was if he truly did see Glorfindel. The joy on his melethron’s face when he was told that indeed, Lord Glorfindel has been returned to Arda, quickly turned to bitter disappointment when he learned that the Slayer was off on patrol. This news seemed to dampen Erestor’s spirit, though his body continued to heal, it was like there was no joy or happiness in the Advisor.

No longer did Erestor seek out Gildor’s company, and every time he was with the Advisor, the dark-haired ellon would be distracted, getting all excited at hearing riders approaching or the sentries crying out that a patrol was returning. When Glorfindel was not amongst those that returned, Erestor would excuse himself to retreat to his rooms or more often, to this orchard. Finally, after weeks of this, Gildor had become so enraged at the Slayer’s obviously lack of concern over Erestor, that he went and sought Lord Elrond’s council. What he had learned, triggered the memory of how the Slayer had cradled Erestor in his arms, the look that he had given him as he backed away to make room for Gildor to hold Erestor, and that was when he knew, Glorfindel had feelings for the Advisor. The Slayer had fled Imladris after seeing how he, Gildor, treated Erestor in such a familiar way, that of a loved one. Closing his eyes, Gildor gathered his courage and strode forth and sat next to his meldir.

Erestor looked at Gildor, who had yet to speak or look at him. Guilt filled Erestor’s heart at how he had been avoiding his meldir, and he knew that he needed to be honest with him, even though he would be alone once more afterwards. He took a deep breath to speak when Gildor turned and looked deep into his eyes and stated, “I am leaving Imladris.”

Tears sprang in Erestor’s eyes and he gasped, “Leaving, when, why?”

Gildor looked away as he said, “Almost this very minute.”

“But why, why are you leaving and so soon?” Erestor demanded, not able to keep the desperation from his voice. He knew that things would change between them, but he did not expect that his meldir would leave so suddenly.

“You love him, do you not, Glorfindel?”

It was Erestor’s turn to look away, down at his hands as he clutched at his robe, “What if I do? It is obvious that he has no feelings for me, not even enough as a friend to stay until I woke.”

Gildor sighed as he placed his hand over Erestor’s and said, “Meldir, that is not true. I fear that in my worry for you, I did not see how much Glorfindel longed to be the one to comfort you, how much pain he was in because you were hurt.”

Erestor looked up into Gildor’s eyes, knowing that he would never lie to him, “What are you saying?”

Gildor cupped Erestor’s cheek as he said, “You should have seen how he held you while you were fighting the nightmare. He went in and saved you, did he not? He cares for you.”

A tear slipped down Erestor’s cheek and Gildor wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “Are you angry?” Erestor queried.

Gildor shook his head as he kissed Erestor’s forehead, “I could never be angry with you. We cannot chose who we love. We both knew that this day would come, where one of us would find our destined mates and I am so happy that it is you. Erestor, you deserve so much happiness. I regret nothing. You have given me so much, faith that maybe someday I will be blessed and find the one that I am meant for.”

Erestor brought Gildor’s lips to his and gave him a gentle kiss before saying, “You will find that someone. I know you will. You have so much to give. I will always cherish your friendship. Saes, do not stay away forever,” Erestor pleaded.

Gildor shook his head, “I will not, meldir. I will return one day, you can count on it,” he said as he kissed Erestor once more and then left. He had one more thing to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel sat up in one of the flets along the border, thinking of Erestor, which he did every waking moment. He was not sure that he could go on, once again, trying to hide his feelings for the dark-haired ellon. Suddenly he was brought out of his musings from the sound of a rider approaching. When he heard the sentries call out that it was Gildor, Glorfindel quickly descended from the flet, worried that something had happened to Erestor. Striding up to Gildor as the Noldo dismounted, Glorfindel blurted out, “Is something wrong with Erestor, is he all right?”

Gildor shook his head, “No, there is nothing wrong with Erestor. Saes, can we go somewhere private to talk?” he asked.

Glorfindel frowned but nodded and led the way to a nearby stream. Crouching down he started throwing stones into the water and asked, “What did you want to speak with me about?”

Gildor looked down at the mighty Slayer, still finding it hard to believe that he was once again walking on Arda. Taking a deep breath, Gildor wasted no time in getting to the point of why he was here. “Erestor’s body is healing but his spirit, his faer is struggling. Glorfindel, he was hurt that you were not there when he awoke,” Gildor stated.

Glorfindel stood as he said, “I did not leave to hurt him. I could not…” but he turned away, remembering whom he was speaking with. He could not tell of his sorrow to this ellon, the one that stood in the way of his happiness.

Gildor could actually feel the Elda’s pain and he rested a hand on his old meldir’s shoulder, “Fin, he loves you, just as you love him, do you not?”

Glorfindel turned his head so he could look into Gildor’s eyes and saw the sadness in them mingled with acceptance. “But you two, you are melethryn. Does he not love you?” he asked.

Squeezing Glorfindel’s shoulder, Gildor said, “Yes, we were melethryn, but no more. I never had his heart, nor his faer. We knew that what we had was not meant to last. We gave comfort and companionship to each other. But now, now he has found the one that he was meant to be with, you.”

Glorfindel turned to face the warrior before him. “What of you?” he asked and then he knew, “You are leaving.”

Gildor smiled sadly as he said, “I think it best. You two deserve time together and I would just make it difficult. Besides, I get restless if I stay in one place for too long. It is time for me to move on.”

“You will return? I do not want you and Erestor to stop being mellyn (friends) because of me. I do not want you and me to stop being mellyn,” Glorfindel said as he placed his hand on Gildor’s arm.

Gildor shook his head, “As I told Erestor, I will not be gone forever. Now, someone is awaiting you. Go, I will tell your guards where you went.”

Glorfindel hugged Gildor to him and whispered into his ear, “Hannon le, mellon nín.”

Glorfindel pushed his steed hard to reach Imladris in but a few hours. By the time he slid off his horse and handed the reins to a stable hand, it was nearing dusk. After inquiring where he might find the Advisor, he found himself standing, unknowingly, where Gildor had, staring at the most beautiful being that he had ever beheld. He watched as Erestor tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms. Glorfindel started to smile until he noted the dark smudges underneath his beloved’s eyes. He could not help feeling guilty for abandoning Erestor when he needed him the most, swearing to himself as he approached the weary ellon, that he would never leave him again.

Erestor snapped his eyes open when he felt hands upon his knees and he gasped as he looked into indigo eyes. Kneeling before him was Glorfindel and he stared, drinking in the sight of the one he so longed for. “Fin…”

Glorfindel caressed Erestor’s cheek as he said, “I am so sorry, meleth (love). I will never leave you again.”

The air left Erestor’s lungs as the endearment registered and he gasped, “Meleth?”

Wrapping his hand around the back of Erestor’s neck, Glorfindel leaned in and when he was a hair’s breath from the Advisor’s lips, whispered, “I love you, Erestor, I always have.”

Erestor cried out as he threw his arm around Glorfindel’s neck and pressed his lips against the Elda’s. Moaning, he eagerly opened up for Fin’s questing tongue.

Glorfindel growled as Erestor pressed himself against him, clutching at his golden mane in desperation. Finally the need for air became too much and Glorfindel nibbled his way to Erestor’s ear before holding him tightly, both of them swaying in each other’s arms as their love cloaked them both. Struggling to breathefrom the intense emotions shuddering through him, Glorfindel panted, “Oh, how I have missed you, ind nín (my heart).”

Erestor could not contain his feelings and he wept, feeling truly alive for the first time since Glorfindel’s death. “I thought that I had lost you for all time and I never even truly had you to begin with,” Erestor breathed, holding tightly to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel leaned back, barely able to get Erestor to loosen his hold on him, and replied, “I know, meleth. It took so long for us to find our way to each other. Saes, tell me that you will have me. I give you my heart and faer willingly.”

Tears fell freely down Erestor’s face as he nodded, “Yes, yes. And I give you mine, everything.”

Glorfindel yelped for joy as he swooped down and claimed Erestor’s lips once more in a ravenous kiss. Reluctantly pulling away from his beloved, Glorfindel carefully scooped Erestor up into his arms and carried him into the Last Homely House and into his future mate’s chambers. Sitting Erestor on his bed, he stepped back from him, only to have the Advisor begin to stand. “No wait, you sit there while I start a fire. It is chilly in here and I do not want you to get cold.”

Erestor only could nod as he watched Glorfindel crouch down before the fireplace and started a fire. As flames leapt to life, a shudder went through both of them and he was soon looking into deep cerulean eyes filled with so much love that it felt tangible. Slowly, Glorfindel started walking towards him, drawing his tunic up and over his head and Erestor greedily took in the broad expanse of his meleth’s muscular chest.

By the time Glorfindel came to a stop in front of Erestor, his chest was heaving from the powerful craving that coursed through his body. When his meleth reached out and lightly ran his fingers over his breast, he hissed at the sensation that slight touch caused. Knowing that Erestor was still recovering and wanting their first time to be perfect, Glorfindel closed his eyes and drew on all of his will power that he had to take things slowly.

Glorfindel’s skin felt like velvet, warm and alive and Erestor could not help saying, “There are no marks on you. I still find it hard to believe that you are here, uninjured and alive.”

The Slayer wrapped his fingers around Erestor’s wrist and brought his fingers to his lips, kissing the tips. Staring into those brown eyes that he had dreamt of, even in death, he said, “I am alive, let me show you.” Gently pushing Erestor to lay on his back, Glorfindel covered his body with his as he captured his beloved’s lips in a kiss before laving his way to the opening of his robe.

Erestor looked up into Glorfindel’s eyes, smiling. When he started to open the clasps to his robes, tasting each inch of skin as it was bared to his hungry mouth, Erestor arched up into the caresses, eager to be free of his oppressive clothing. When his robes were open from neck to hem, his mouth was taken once more in an open mouthed kiss before Glorfindel kissed his way to Erestor’s injured shoulder.

As Glorfindel drew the robe off of Erestor’s shoulder, the dark-haired ellon turned his face away from him. Gently turning Erestor to look at him, he searched his eyes before saying, “Never be ashamed of this,” he whispered before he laid a gentle kiss upon the scar that his meleth would bearthe rest of his life, “This shows how strong and courageous you are, mîr vain nín (my dark treasure).”

Tears pooled in Erestor’s eyes and spilt over as he lifted his head to kiss Glorfindel, their tongues dancing together before Glorfindel resumed his task of baring and tasting his skin. By the time his clothing was cast aside, Erestor was brought to a feverish pitch, his body ablaze with his need of his meleth. When oil was demanded from him, he pointed to the side table next to the bed.

Glorfindel kissed Erestor as he reached for the bottle of oil, popping the cork with deft fingers. Playfully tugging on his melethron’s bottom lip, he then kissed his way down his body. Staring up between Erestor’s thighs, he locked his eyes with the Advisor’s as he leaned down and lapped at the pearly drops at the tip of his beloved’s arousal, savoring the first taste of him. Glorfindel oiled his fingers then as he took all of Erestor’s cock into his mouth, he massaged the puckered opening that he so longed to be sheathed by.

Erestor threw his head back and cried out as he was swallowed whole. Glorfindel’s hot mouth around his weeping erection and the finger that pressed into him caused Erestor to arch off the bed. Soon he found his hips being held down as his melethron prepared him with excruciating slowness.

Knowing that his meleth was close to finding release and wanting to be inside him when he did, Glorfindel kissed his way up Erestor’s body and thrust his tongue inside his mouth, letting him taste himself. Glorfindel ran his hands down Erestor’s sides, hips, and then to the back of his knees, pushing his legs up. Positioning his cock at Erestor’s waiting entrance, Glorfindel looked down into his pen vain’s (beautiful one’s) eyes and whispered, “I love you,” before he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust.

Erestor pulled Glorfindel down and captured his lips as he started to move inside of him. Tearing his lips away from his meleth’s, he moaned, “I love you too,” as he felt his faer reach outside of himself and into Glorfindel. When their spirits meshed together, mingled and danced, they cried out as one, their love making them whole, making them one for all time, as it always was destined to be. They moved as one, their bodies in perfect synchronism. Kisses were delivered in between whispered words of love and devotion, all they had longed to tell the other came tumbling out. Their faer shined brightly, casting an otherworldly glow about them. It was as if they were covered in stardust, their fingers skimmed each other’s skin, leaving pulses of light behind. Soon, it became too much for them and they reached the pinnacle together. No longer would they be haunted by fire and shadow. Their spirits were one, shining bright for all to see.

The End