A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
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Glorfindel held Erestor close around the waist. He was a slender thing even wrapped up thickly with war furs and fabrics dense enough to last the long journey from Lórien. Other riders were arriving now in groups with eyes misted in joy to see again the Last Homely House, but Glorfindel paid them little heed. Erestor had made an almost orgasmic sound when they embraced at last, a sound he could not have held in. It was warm.
Erestor’s delicate hands had pushed into his hair, he reached up to brush their noses together with simple affection, pure and long missed. Glorfindel returned the gesture, and Erestor smiled. ‘You are cold,’ said the counsellor.
‘No longer.’
Erestor lifted a brow, there was a smirk upon his lip.
He unhooked the clasp of his travel cloak with a thin hand, pale and soft even after years wielding both sword and quill with equal ferocity. To cover them in his own, to place them over his heart - Glorfindel was consumed with no other thoughts but these. Erestor pulled his fur cloak about both their shoulders.
And there was warmth of their own making. Glorfindel sighed his appreciation into wanting lips that parted to receive his kiss. Erestor’s hand found its way back to his hair, to the soft golden down at the back of his neck. They smiled and came together again, slowly, with eyes closed and bodies close, wrapped in warm shawl.
Glorfindel remembered Erestor’s small mewls of pleasure, the way his breath hitched when he bit his lip gently, the softness of the body pressed to his. They fit together as though made to embrace thus; they should have been lovers for centuries.
They had lost so much time.
‘But still have so much time left,’ Erestor whispered, low and divine, and drew Glorfindel down to him for another lingering kiss. It was sweet but cut short as Erestor withdrew with lowered eyes. ‘Yet I am the bigger fool. I understand all of what you said now, I understood it the moment I left your chamber, but too late, I deem it.’
Glorfindel shook his head, and lifted Erestor’s eyes by placing a finger under his chin and giving gentle urged instruction to lift it. There were small flakes of snow resting in his dark eyelashes, but they vanished when he blinked - only to settle again.
Strange, that winter should bring to them so much life.
‘Erestor,’ Glorfindel said, closing his eyes when hot breath ghosted his lips. He smoothed his hands down Erestor’s hips, and the warmth increased. ‘I understand it too.’