Home's Tale by Haeron

---

Chapter 14

---

I had not been waiting downstairs in the living room when Glorfindel had arrived at Elrond and Celebrían’s cottage in a flurry of hoof beats and footsteps over branches. I heard him but did not see him for I was secreted away in the old spare room we had once inhabited together, surrounded by all my surplus possessions I had not been able to bring with me to New Gondolin. Hiding? One might say I was, indeed! I pawed through my old garments and items, sat cross-legged on the bed in a room where the curtains were drawn but the window was open. His voice came to me from outside, and I might have gasped.

 

He bade Celebrían and Elrond a good afternoon but then immediately pelted them with questions as to my whereabouts and condition. I heard Elrond laugh and pray he hold his tongue and come inside. I heard the door close. The sound rattled my body -- it was excitement! Of course, I remembered too well the last time I had heard his voice so close and how awfully I had treated him, but here he would find me changed just as I had promised, though there would be much I must apologise for besides. He would find me his lover again, and utterly humbled, if truly he wished for it...

 

I clutched one of Glorfindel’s rarely used sleeping robes between my hands and closed my eyes; waiting, waiting. They were talking downstairs, the three of them, and I listened to it all, detachedly, but heard not all that much at all. Their voices alone, those three most dear to me, were simple joy just in themselves. My strength and courage were abound, in a shaky, newborn way.

 

Yet I cannot deny that doubts plagued at me still, but then my nature has lead to expect nothing less; was I truly changed? Was I truly ready? But if I had learned anything during our weeks apart, it was that I must try, even if I was really very afraid. Courage, I told myself, a personal chant, courage and patience.

 

A profound change from guilt and disgust, I think you will agree.

 

Alone I was sat when eventually the door creaked and his golden head poked round it. Who or what he had expected, I cannot say. His eyes were wide and he was clearly nervous, but of course he would be! Light spilled in from where the door was ajar, burning up the darkness of the bedroom. We looked at one another, mirroring the same kind of delicate anticipation. I barely dared draw breath for fear of frightening him away!

 

‘Erestor,’ he said, a whisper, a precious whisper to test the water.

 

I called his in return, Glorfindel, but my voice failed and I had to cover my face with my hands as I saw him run to me to kneel at the bedside. He was half-laughing, half-crying and told me it’s alright and that I’m here, and two gentle hands I felt prising my own away from my face. It was strange to look down at his as I did then, him being usually so much taller than I, and he looked up to me with a gorgeous smile and exhaled his relief before resting his head in my lap. I stroked his shining tresses and held him thus for a while, my broken warrior come to me with love everlasting.

 

Just as I had pictured on the ship.

 

Elbereth. I prayed to the Valar, I sang my thanks with eyes closed and head lifted to the dark ceiling. But my most ardent, most soulful thanks I knew I must save for the man I held. Glorfindel had his eyes closed too, I noticed when I opened back up my own. His golden lashes cast butterfly shadows across his cheeks.

 

‘I have missed you so very, very much,’ he said, stressing every word for me lest I glean not his ardour. ‘And I think I understand you at last.’

 

Did he? I tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and he blinked open his eyes so that I might gauge his words, but the truth of them was apparent enough. It certainly seemed as though we might have reached some new, unspoken accord.

 

‘But we need to talk?’ I asked, hoping the words would not be perceived as a cruel joke. Fortunately, Glorfindel laughed, though it was a tired sound.

 

‘Yes, yes, I think we need to talk.’

 

***

 

I spared no detail in the answers Glorfindel pried from me, so delicate was his current state that I feared any lie or dishonest twisting of the truth would have him shatter, and coincidently as the thought came to me I was brilliantly reminded of the glass vase I had smashed against the floor in Ecthelion’s home, Valar, how I prayed in hindsight that it held little economic or emotional worth.

 

And then I berated myself for my distraction.

 

Glorfindel took my hands in his and called my name, softly, a gentle nudge well needed. He had clambered atop the bed to sit opposite me now, leaning against the headboard as I sat freely, facing him though often diverting my gaze to the trinkets covering the bedside table; evidence of our twined love, surely.

 

I knew I must be honest and forthright if I might even have claim to that love, and Glorfindel waited patiently for me -- as ever.

 

‘Everyone,’ I continued, willing the words that would tell him of my most ugly, most virulent thoughts long concealed and denied voice. ‘Everyone there, in New Gondolin, expected you to be bonded to a warrior of equal talent and standing. I saw the surprise in their faces as you introduced me, I knew what they had expected for you and I know you expected that for yourself, too.’

 

‘There are no warriors of equal talent,’ Glorfindel jested with a stunning little smile. When he saw my own answering one was distinctly lacking any kind of mirth, he bowed and shook his head. ‘I don’t love Ecthelion.’

 

I winced.

 

‘And even now you do not believe me when I say so?’ he asked. I could neither say yes or no but spoke quickly to allay the gathering storm that knitted his brows together. I stroked my thumb across his hand and told him of my days spent in contemplation in Celebrían’s rose gardens and all thoughts and realisations that had come to me there, where the skies had been clear and the air cold and crisp.

 

‘I thought and I understood that which I thought, eventually, and I also dug up countless weeds with gnarled roots,’ said I, and Glorfindel smiled gently, knowing full well I had never been possessed of a green thumb. ‘Your word I am prepared to believe, knowing now the... folly of my actions.’

 

‘And there is that word again,’ Glorfindel said, quietly and merrily.

 

‘I cannot escape it,’ I replied, smiling too.

 

Glorfindel leant forward to kiss me briefly, a soft peck and his hair caught the candlelight so he appeared to blaze as we embraced. Would his spirit soon light up thus? Or would it require longer healing time? Alas, I did not yet know the full extent of the wounds I had caused him and dared not ask him, not yet.

 

‘Does this now mean you’ll come back with me? Erestor, I cannot be without you.’ he brushed his cheek across mine. The contriteness of his words burned me, deeply, and I reached up to caress his face and push my fingers into his hair; to touch him and have him know my affection. He gasped a little and brought us together for a new kiss but I deflected it, unkindly, so his lips pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek.

 

What he had asked was beyond what I would be able to give, there would be no denying such a fact any longer. When I told him so, as softly as I could, I felt him slacken.

 

‘We can make it work, Erestor, it would not be the same as before, I can promise you this!’

 

I closed my eyes and kissed his cheek, but shook my head. I would not let him out of my arms now I had him and he held me tightly in turn, but new promises would have to be made. The flames danced on the wicks of the candles we had lit in our haste to combat the falling night, and now we cast our own dancing shadow on the wall; a mural of us entwined thrown large and moving for both our eyes.

 

‘I am alone there, I cannot return to what we were,’ I said. Glorfindel sighed and urged me to lie with him, so that my head might rest on his chest and my body alongside his. I did not require much urging.

 

‘You have me, always you have me.’

 

‘Do I? It did not seem so when last we were together.’

 

My words were poorly chosen and Glorfindel tensed his arm around me and turned his head, leaving me to curse my barbed nature and ponder how much Glorfindel himself was withholding inside. It would not do to have us both pent up eternally, but how might I seek to relieve him when it was me who caused the majority of his stress? It was all my fault, I knew it plainly.

 

He could not vent his frustrations to me nor mine to him; something had to change, beyond that which already had. Was I pushing fate and the natural order of things too quickly beyond its slow, ordinal march? If I was, then I bade the Valar strike me down where I lay but I would have challenged even Mandos himself if I thought it might restore Glorfindel and I to our former glories.

 

Yes, the surprise in your face is quite appropriate. It is quite amazing what a week in a flower garden will do for one’s tenacity, isn’t it?

 

‘Tell me,’ he said. I wondered at the intent of his request for a moment before remembering our connection and being delighted at its consistency and simple existence. I toyed with the laces of his shirt, weaving them through my fingers and wondering how best to word the tumult that I knew I must put forth.

 

There’d be no softening the blow, no matter how I might speak, and I almost regretted that he had asked. But no, no it is good that we air these things now. Still, I was reluctant to bruise the fresh affection that had blossomed between us these past hours.

 

‘I felt an absence of, well, anything between us...’ I started but failed to finish, Glorfindel, fortunately, picked up my train of thought and nodded, making a low sound of agreement.

 

‘You felt it too? As did I. It was as we had never bound to one another and never spoken our marital words. I remembered and honoured my vows Erestor, as I believed you did not.’

 

‘How dare you!’ I cried and Elrond and Celebrían might have heard my dulcet tones in their own bedchamber. Upright I bolted, suddenly rankled by his confession. I had no right to the anger that set me gaping with narrowed eyes, for Glorfindel spoke the truth and later I would see so. But then, as it stood, I lost myself needlessly to fresh rage and Glorfindel saw he had spoken out of turn, at least in that he might have chosen kinder words (can one even voice such a statement more kindly?).

 

Glorfindel reached up to call me back to him, shhing and whispering apologies he need never have spoken save only to balm my pride. ‘I’ve not the gift of rhetoric you have, Erestor, forgive me, forgive me,’

 

I did forgive him and let myself be pressed to his side once again, hearing his heartbeat under my ear and clutching at his shirt as though I expected to be wrested from him suddenly by some foul thing. In truth, I shook until I felt dizzy, feeling as though I may break and succumb to all the wrath and dire things that had held me so under their sway during that miserable time in New Gondolin. You have broken their hold on you, Glorfindel told me, silently. And I knew he was right.

 

‘I want to heal you,’ he whispered, stroking my shoulder. He rested his chin against my brow; we had always fit together immaculately.

 

‘And I wish to be healed. But in New Gondolin I will heal not, and feel only loneliness whether or not it be the reality of the matter.’

 

Glorfindel nodded, quietly listening and the heat of the prior moment of my outburst was ebbed away, gently, gently. I wished there was a wind chime in the room, and made a mental note to perhaps start crafting them for myself.

 

‘Ecthelion owns a part of you, all the folk do and it is a beautiful thing, this loyalty you bear even through these long Ages. The village is a marvel, but it is not for me.’

 

He was quiet, my husband, for a little while. I brushed my fingers up the smoothness of his neck and traced the line of his jaw until he caught my roaming hand in his and brought it to his lips and kissed each of my knuckles.

 

‘Then,’ he said, after he was done and my hand was guided back to rest over his heart, clasped still so tightly in his. ‘We need another option, don’t we?’

 

I nodded, and should have been swamped with relief.

 

But I felt more fatigued then than I had ever done before, even in the war, even playing parent to two bouncing twin toddlers. Glorfindel and I lay together, joined in our weariness at last, and I felt I might sleep against his chest until a new age dawned over Valinor that we might claim in happiness for our own.

 

Claim this age, you dolt, claim it now.

 

‘Another option,’ I repeated, could such a thing exist?

 

‘We’ll find one.’ Glorfindel said.

 

And so we made our new promise.