A Journey to Lothlórien by Ysilme

Prologue

Do you really think this is a good idea?

Elrond stood at the window of his study, staring sightlessly into the night. He nodded, adding a spoken affirmation when he realised his dialogue partner could not see him.

Yes, I do. He has hidden away in this valley long enough. It is high time for him to see more of this country, and find out Ennor is still beautiful, even with Beleriand lost.

He will not like it.

No, I do not suppose he will, Elrond said drily. But I am not giving him a choice. You have known him far longer and better than I do, of course, but I have enough of his refusal to accept that he is no longer a high and mighty Lord of Gondolin, far above ‘the likes of us Grey Elves and worse’.

Did he actually say that aloud?

Galadriel’s mental voice was full of mirth, even if Elrond could not hear a single sound. He grimaced.

I was not meant to overhear, but he rebuked one of the scribes in this fashion.

Oh dear. My cousin always could be quite prim and proper, particularly if he is feeling out of his depth. Do not judge him too harshly for such words.

I will not. But I think it is high time for him to meet more of these Grey Elves and worse, and find out that we are not as bad as rumour has us.

Another peal of Galadriel’s mental laughter made Elrond sense it nearly physically, as if something rippled over his skin.

So be it, then. I will play the game along with you and pretend I insist my recalcitrant cousin comes to finally visit me. There will be a reward for him, at least; you are welcome to use that as leverage.

Elrond’s sombre disposition lightened at the lady’s acquiescence.

Thank you, my lady, you are most generous.

You are welcome. Do try to keep up with appearances, though, lest each and everybody believes your visit is but a ruse to come kissing my beautiful daughter again.

Elrond blushed, but before he found a suitable retort, Galadriel’s presence in his mind faded, and the room around him came back into focus.

oOo

Chapter End Notes

Ennor - Middle-earth

Journey

Glorfindel stared gloomily at the black rump swinging in front of him, shining tail flicking occasionally. Dappled sunshine filtered through the branches, birds sang, and the sound of horses in motion created a peaceful atmosphere. Elrond even sung softly to himself, clearly looking forward to what lay ahead.

For his part, Glorfindel felt anything but peaceful, for he had been just about dragged away from Imladris, and he was no less grumpy about this now that their arrival was imminent.

He had not wanted to come on this trip, not on any trip for that matter, and had tried his best to convince his lord of the fact. But every reason Glorfindel could think of to be left behind had just strengthened Elrond’s resolve to bring his captain along and, eventually, Glorfindel ran out of arguments and gave in.

Was he not responsible for the defence of the valley, particularly in its master’s absence? It would not do to have lord and captain gone at the same time! Why, of course his deputy was well-trained and capable of taking over the captain’s duties at any moment. Yes, even for an extended absence. No, of course Glorfindel did not believe the steward incapable of representing Elrond and taking care of the valley, but …

Had he not been sent back to Ennor to protect his former king’s descendants and their realm? Of course, Elrond was correct in pointing out that since he was the last of Turgon’s offspring, it made more sense to guard him personally when he was travelling, and leave the realm in the hands of his deputy.

His mare was lame, the stable-boy had neglected to inform him of a slight sprain acquired while out grazing. No, no, nothing to worry about, but she could not be taken on a trip of this distance, particularly over a mountain pass! Why, yes, of course, the stables of Imladris had other suitable horses, but - yes, he certainly could ride one of these. It would be his pleasure.

Glorfindel sighed. His last argument had been clutching for straws, and now he was stuck with this - this - donkey was what came first to mind -, being jolted about while they roamed around the countryside as, of course, he could not very well take his own, allegedly lame, horse. An indignant huff reminded him that even if the horses these days did not come close to the mighty elven steeds of old, they were quite capable of sensing their rider. He patted the bony dun gently, for she had carried him well, and could not help her modest origin or her appearance.

Perhaps he should have told Elrond outright that he simply did not want to travel and see more of this land, no matter how beautiful, or leave the valley at all. He just wanted to go about the duty he had been sent for and be done with it. But Glorfindel had a strong suspicion that even this would not have made a difference; Elrond could be quite adamant if not downright stubborn at times. A trait he shared with his forefather king Turgon, Glorfindel thought with a wry grin.

In the meanwhile, the trees had become taller and more dense, and Elrond announced their arrival at Caras Galadhon before nightfall. Glorfindel sighed again. Of all places, the new home of his cousin was the last he wanted to visit. Elrond had repeatedly conveyed to him Galadriel’s desire to see him again, but he had refused, feigning duty and a heavy workload. Elrond had let it go until now, and Glorfindel finally accepted he could no longer avoid the only tie this side of the Sundering Seas that he had to his past and all that he had loved, and lost.

oOo

For the rest of their journey, an occasional greeting was exchanged between their party and a nearly invisible guard post up in the trees, and not long after they arrived at the foot of a hill which was surrounded by a moat with a kind of growing wall behind it. A small group of elves awaited them on a bridge in front of a large gate and, as they dismounted, an officially-looking elf stepped forward.

“Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo, my lords,” he said, raising his hand to his heart in greeting. “King Amdír bids you welcome to the Golden Wood.”

“Mae govannen, Tunnor, we are happy to be guests of the Galadhrim again.” Elrond returned the greeting solemnly. “I trust the King, the Lady Galadriel, and the Lord Celeborn are well?”

The steward inclined his head. “Quite well, as are the Lady Celebrían and the Lord Amroth.”

Noticing with interest a faint blush colouring Elrond’s cheek at that mention, Glorfindel also inclined his head. While the other elves now took their horses and exchanged greetings with the Imladrim guard, he followed Elrond and the steward through the gate, trying to make out the city behind the surrounding wall of trees. But as they advanced he realised, with no little shock, that there was nothing but trees, trees and, again, trees. No buildings of stone, not even wooden cabins, no paved streets except the path they walked on, nor any other man-made structure; only the tall, silvery trunks of the tallest mellyrn Glorfindel had ever seen.

True, it was a breathtaking sight, and his heart delighted at their majestic, silver-golden beauty. But how could this be a city, with a whole people living here? He knew, of course, that some elven people built telain up in the treetops as look-outs and resting places, and, sometimes, also as summer dwellings. But here, it looked as if anything happened up in those telain he was unable to discern from below, indicated only by an occasional stairway, cleverly hidden behind a trunk, or a few small huts veiled in dense foliage and flowering vines.

Glorfindel felt torn between dismay about the absence of anything he connected to culture as he knew it, and awe at the sheer size of these mellyrn and the serenity and peacefulness of the atmosphere.

“Not so bad, eh?” Elrond asked with a chuckle, and Glorfindel could not help himself but nod. The whole concept of living up in the trees suddenly seemed much more reasonable.

Well, there you are, cousin, a familiar voice suddenly resounded in his mind. Welcome to my wood. It seems you do not dislike it as much as you thought, do you now?

Glorfindel refused to acknowledge Galadriel’s mental voice and nodded instead to Elrond.

“It looks acceptable.”

He kept himself in the background as they now approached a large meadow on the top of the hill, and more and more elves appeared, smiling and calling out greetings, many obviously familiar with one or more of the visitors. Tunnor halted at the foot of an immense mallorn right on top of the hill, where they were greeted by more officials, offered some refreshments, and then were ushered upwards.

Glorfindel wondered if the rather informal treatment was caused by Elrond’s obvious familiarity with everybody around, or was customary for the Galadhrim, but his mind was soon distracted as they climbed higher. As they reached the lowest branches, suddenly everywhere was life. On each larger branch there seemed to be a talan, with stairs and walk-ways linking them, or just a rope or two, and all over he saw and heard people talking and laughing and going about their daily life.

Finally, they reached the uppermost talan and in front of a structure that looked like a real building, a palace even, stood king Amdír with his favoured guests, and his son. Glorfindel barely noticed greeting the king, unable to draw his eyes away from his cousin.

Galadriel stood there, every bit as he remembered her, radiating light not only from her pure white apparel and her unique, golden, hair but also from within. He had forgotten how much she shone with the light of the trees. With the warmest of smiles, she opened her arms to him.

“My heart rejoices at our meeting, Laurefindë. Welcome home.”

oOo

Chapter End Notes

Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo - A star shines on the hour of our meeting
Laurefindë - Glorfindel

Discovery

As their visit was not an official one, Glorfindel was mostly left to choose for himself how to spend his time. After a lavish dinner and catching up on the first evening, Amroth, the king’s son, had shown him around the city on the next day, and today Glorfindel was on his own to explore. He relished the solitude and just wandered around, talking shop with a weapon smith here, accepting a gift of fresh berries there, and then taking a long bath in one of the bathing pools outside the city walls. The evening was close when he was about to return, but he was distracted by a distant neighing and followed the sound curiously. He had not yet seen any stables or horses and was eager to find out how they were kept in the middle of a forest.

It was not far to a small clearing where some horses grazed peacefully, while two or three wooden cabins formed a kind of stable yard where a lone elf was grooming a horse. Clad only in well worn leather trousers and with his black hair tied back in a ponytail, he seemed oddly familiar, although Glorfindel had no idea why he would know a mere groom.

“Suilad,” he greeted, “I wanted to see how my mare is doing.”

He was not much interested in his steed, to be honest, but he suddenly felt embarrassed in coming here without a purpose. Besides, horses were better companions than people anyway, and perhaps he could go on a ride and get some exercise tomorrow. He already missed the daily routine of training and patrol. Or, maybe, some other diversion was to be found …

The elf looked up, wiping sweat off his brow and leaving a dark smudge, his green eyes strangely odd in a face that looked even more familiar. Glorfindel could not place him, though, and found himself under scrutiny by an unreadable expression.

“Sure,” the groom said, “she is on the main pasture, out to grass. I can take you there when I am done with this lass.”

“I would appreciate that, but I do not want to detain you from your duties. If you show me the way I will be fine.”

“You would not find it,” the black-haired elf said with a half-smile and went back to his task. “I will not be long.”

“I am in no hurry,” Glorfindel replied and settled on the edge of a close-by water trough to wait. He did not mind the delay. The sun was shining, he had no pressing engagements, and he always enjoyed being in the company of horses, as well as in that of their carers.

Watching the bare-chested groom at work was an unexpected bonus at that, Glorfindel thought. He was very attractive with his lithe, well-defined body and graceful movements, and he radiated an earthy, fresh masculinity Glorfindel found very appealing. He tried to imagine how the groom would look with his hair falling loose over his shoulders, astride the mare …

The mare in question snorted, and the groom now put away his curry and replaced it with a crest to comb out her mane. She was a beautiful, dappled grey, heavy with foal, and visibly enjoying the procedure. Her ears twitched attentively while she listened to the groom talking softly to her, and snorted now and then as her part of the conversation.

“She looks like a good breeder,” Glorfindel said, finding himself watched again. A faint blush crept up his neck at having been caught staring.

“When is she going to foal? Four enquier hence?”

“Might be, or five, ” the groom gave back, eyeing Glorfindel with interest. “You know a thing or two about horses.”

It was not a question. Glorfindel nodded. “A bit.”

“If you like, I can show you the breeding barn afterwards. We have a few good mares and some foals and yearlings you might find interesting.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Thank you, that would be nice.”

The groom’s sober features lit up with a smile. “That is settled, then. I am Erestor, by the way.”

Turning back to his task, Erestor finished the mane and switched to a hoof pick, checking each leg in turn and carefully cleaning the hooves, before sending the mare away with a pat on her rump.

Glorfindel now openly watched him, appreciating the play of firm muscles under lightly bronzed skin, and meeting Erestor’s gaze with equanimity. Erestor, a slight smile on his lips, went to the trough and bent over it, making a show of washing his face, arms and chest, and then reached for a simple working shirt to dry himself off and slip it over his head.

“All done,” he said, re-fastening his hair. “Come, I will bring you to your horse. Tell me about her, what is she called?”

oOo

Erestor the groom proved to be surprising good company, and Glorfindel enjoyed the easy talk about horses that brought them to the pasture where the guest’s horses were kept, and onwards to the breeding barn and clearing. The sun was about to set when they arrived, and Erestor invited Glorfindel to share his dinner if he did not mind the simple fare of a worker.

Glorfindel accepted gladly, having no objections to escaping polite conversation for one evening, and after a quick round among the breeding mares and the promise of a longer visit at daylight, he followed Erestor up to his talan. This was a bit of a challenge since only a rope ladder led upwards, but anxious to not embarrass himself, Glorfindel just managed, while Erestor was too polite to take notice of the effort it took him. Dinner was indeed a simple affair of nutbread, cheese, dried berries and a few wrinkled apples, but washed down with a jar of deliciously tart cider, and company that was much more to his liking anyway.

Later, a beautiful moon rose over the treetops, and they sat side by side at the edge of the talan with dangling legs, listening to the sounds of the forest and the horses below. Glorfindel laid his arm around Erestor’s shoulders, and, feeling no resistance, drew the other into a kiss. He felt Erestor start at the touch of his lips and wanted to stop, but then Erestor relaxed and opened his mouth slightly, leaning deeper into the embrace. Glorfindel let his mouth wander, but was halted by a hand on his chest.

“Not here, at the edge,” Erestor said softly. Glorfindel nodded. He had already forgotten where they were. Erestor led him behind a screen woven of thin branches and grass and onto a mattress lying on the floor. Erestor’s quarters looked austere at first sight, but Glorfindel soon found that looks could be deceiving. The mattress, spread with cushions and a colourful blanket, was large enough for two and very comfortable, a soft rug with matching colours covered the floor, and more cushions on delicately carved chests provided seating. The walls might be nothing more than woven screens, but the grass and twigs formed intricate patterns, creating a beautiful effect. With the dense canopy above a roof was not necessary and, when Erestor now lit a few lamps hanging from branches, his abode was filled with a soft, light. Glorfindel admired the beautifully shaped glass bowls, for they were blown in a manner to imitate blossoms and buds, adding to the feeling of being outside and in a tree, despite the comfort all around.

Erestor stopped at the bed, silhouetted from behind. He took off his shirt, but when he started to undo his hair, Glorfindel stood.

“Let me,” he said, lifting his hands to the silky black strands he had so admired earlier. He fumbled a bit with the tie until he could free the long hair, shining even in the dim light of the lamps, letting it fall down over Erestor’s back and shoulders. Leaning in a little he inhaled Erestor’s scent, a faint whiff of horse combined with hay and leather and something indescribable, which seemed to be the essence of summer. Glorfindel sighed softly.

Erestor stood, hands hanging down, relaxed, but clearly waiting for Glorfindel to take the initiative. It was too dark to make out his expression, but Glorfindel felt Erestor’s eyes watching him in the same intense manner as he had done in the afternoon.

He slid his hands down from the shoulders over strong arms, relishing the feeling of muscles which were defined beautifully without distorting the elegance of the limbs, to Erestor’s hands. Taking them, he went backwards until he felt the mattress with his legs, and drew Erestor down with him. Reaching for the lacings of Erestor’s trousers he met resistance, his hands pushed gently away, and next felt Erestor’s hands opening his tunic all down the front and pushing it down his shoulders.

Calloused fingers swept softly over his skin, their rough texture leaving a trail of goose-flesh, and then Erestor straddled him and bowed down, capturing his lips in a deep, sensual, kiss. Glorfindel moaned, the fine black hair gliding over his face and arms, such a different sensation from the calloused skin, and then he drew Erestor close until he lay on top of him. They kissed again, hungrily now, bodies grinding against each other, feeling each other’s arousal, until Erestor sat up with a gasp. Glorfindel wanted to draw him back down, but Erestor reached first for the fastenings of Glorfindel’s trousers, and then his own, hastily opening both and then pushing and tugging with Glorfindel’s help until both were off, and they lay skin to skin.

Glorfindel moaned again at the caresses of gentle hands, arching against a body which complemented him in the most perfect way. He lost himself in a sensation he seemed to not have felt for yéni, realising that he would not last much longer. He wanted to stop Erestor’s hands which now slid down his flanks, teasing and stroking until he gasped for breath, but it was too late, and he threw his head back, hips bucking, and became undone.

“Forgive me,” he panted when he was able to draw breath again, “I did not want -”

“Shhh.” Erestor covered his mouth with his own, kissing deeply, teasing his lips, stroking Glorfindel’s arms reassuringly. “It does not matter. Just enjoy.”

Glorfindel nodded, going limp, closing his eyes and giving himself over to the pleasure of Erestor’s gentle, loving caresses. It was so good to just be, to just feel, and not need to think or act or - and then, suddenly, he remembered. Realised that actually, he had not felt anything similar for nearly and age, for this was the first time since he had been reborn. He had not exactly lived celibate, although he had not given in to his desires often. But not since Gondolin had he shared this kind of pleasure, this degree of intimacy and closeness, and it felt all the more surprising as they had come together only today.

“Are you all right?” Erestor asked, concerned.

“Yes.” Glorfindel took a deep breath, touching Erestor’s thighs reassuringly. “I could not be better.” He smiled up at him and lifted a hand, fingering a strand of the silky black hair. “But let us not talk about me. Let us rather see what we can do about you, since I had the poor taste to finish the race without you.”

Erestor chuckled. “A race? I was not aware about a competition. But since you are asking -aah, yes, just like this …”

oOo

Chapter End Notes

enquië, enquier - a six-day week according to the calendar of Imladris, as found in Celandine's calendar.
Nenya - Galadriel's ring
season - a sunyear had six seasons, lasting from 54 to 72 days (see above)
yén, yéni - 144 years

Joy

Glorfindel woke to the sound of voices talking below. He felt surprisingly well rested, considering how little sleep he had got. He smiled happily as he remembered falling asleep in Erestor’s arms, exhausted from the joy they had found with each other. Sitting up with a yawn, he found the bed besides him empty, but when he stepped from behind the screen, he could make out Erestor talking to somebody down on the ground. Glorfindel went in search for his clothes and had just got dressed when Erestor’s face appeared over the edge of the talan, smirking.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Had a good night?”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. “Acceptable,” he said drily, but his eyes twinkled, making Erestor laugh.

“Good. Why do we not go for a quick swim to refresh ourselves before breakfast?”

Glorfindel happily agreed, and they set off in the direction of the bathing pools. After breakfast, which they shared with some other elves in a small clearing nearby, a messenger found them, telling Glorfindel that the lady wanted to meet him ‘at the gate or at the stables, whatever is more convenient’.

“My cousin seems to not miss anything,” Glorfindel chuckled.

Erestor nodded, a strange gleam in his eyes. “You get used to it with time - but you know that, of course.”

“It was not as bad back then, before Nenya. Well, I better do not keep her waiting.” Glorfindel got up. “Will you come with me?”

oOo

Erestor led him back to the breeding barn but continued onwards to another clearing, where several smaller paddocks housed mares with foals, and some who were due soon. In the largest paddock, where a few yearlings were romping about, they found Galadriel with Celebrían and Elrond who were holding hands.

Glorfindel could not hide a grin when he saw his master quickly let go of the girl when they approached, but was distracted by one of the yearlings who ran up to him for a mock attack, only to dart back off with a a playful whinny. Glorfindel gasped, shocked by the sight of the animal’s gleaming white coat and a shape and bearing that seemed hauntingly familiar.

Gilfaloth! My sweet Gil, how do you come to be here? This cannot be real ...

He shook his head as if to disperse a phantom, but the colt with the unusually white coat was still there, looking like a twin of his beloved Gilfaloth, the horse he had owned in Gondolin.

One of the downsides of living in the secluded city had been the lack of horses, as resources were limited, and it had been the happiest day for him when his king had honoured him with the gift of a young stallion in recognition for his services. It was a kingly gift, his bloodline going back to the noblest horses of Valinor, and Glorfindel had named him Gilfaloth, his silvery coat reminding him of sea foam and starlight. He could not have found a better and more steadfast companion, and Glorfindel missed him still. None of the horses he had ridden since his rebirth came even close.

It had to be coincidence, though, that this yearling resembled Gilfaloth so closely, as it would have been a miracle if his beloved steed had escaped the doom of Gondolin. And even if he had, he would have reached the end of his life-span many yéni ago.

Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel looked around, noticing the concern of the others at his reaction.

“I see you have already discovered my surprise,” Galadriel remarked drily. “Pity, I had not planned this to be such a shock, but that young one has a mind of his own.”

Erestor chuckled and let out a low whistle. The white colt stopped at the sound, turned his head to listen, and ran up to Erestor to have his neck petted and scratched.

Glorfindel cleared his throat. “What do you mean, surprise?”

Galadriel came to his side and put her arm around his shoulders, leading him up to the fence which was woven of thin Hithlain rope. One of the other yearlings came up, nosing at Galadriel’s free hand, and she patted her softly.

“I have never met your famed white horse, but have heard many tales of his virtue and beauty. After the fall of your city, some of the refugees brought horses with them, and one was a mare in foal. She gave birth to a perfectly white colt, which eventually came into my hands. He was special to me, since he was the son of a horse which had been so dear to you, and became the progenitor of a long line of excellent horses. This one is the last descendant of that line. Not many were so perfectly white and had such beautiful lines, and when I saw him I decided that you must have him. He has Gilfaloth’s blood, and who could be better suited to be his rider?”

Unable to draw his eyes away from the white colt who was again romping around, Glorfindel did not notice the tears wetting his cheeks. He whistled softly and, as before, the white colt stopped, cocked his ear, and came to investigate. Glorfindel laughed and cried at the same time now, petting the beautiful head and scratching his mane and behind the ears, whispering silly nonsense at the animal who seemed rather taken with this new elf.

“Thank you, Tanis,” Glorfindel whispered, too overcome to trust his voice, “you have no idea what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

Galadriel laughed softly. “Actually, I have, but you are very welcome, Laurë. Seeing you again after all this time gives me equal pleasure, and I am happy I can give you something back.”

Glorfindel blushed, only too aware of how selfish he had been in his reluctance to adapt to this new life, realising he had hurt himself most with his withdrawal, but also those he cared for.

“Forgive me. I will do better from now on.”

She laughed again, full of warmth and love. “There is nothing to forgive. I understand that it has been difficult for you.”

The white yearling became impatient, bumping his new master so the scratching would continue. Glorfindel laughed and resumed the desired ministrations.

“Does he already have a name?”

“No, I wanted you to give it to him.”

Glorfindel smiled gratefully, giving his full attention again to the colt. A gust of wind caused the dappled sunshine filtering through the leaves to dance merrily, painting a lively pattern of light and shadow on the gleaming coat.

“Asfaloth,” Glorfindel said. “He looks so much like his forefather, but his coat is a warmer shade of white. He looks like sea foam, too, but lit by the sun, not by the stars.”

oOo

Chapter End Notes

Tanis, Artanis - Galadriel
Asfaloth - sunlit foam

Shock

In the evening, a festive dinner was held on the meadow under Galadriel’s and Celeborn’s mallorn.

Glorfindel had spent most of the day at the yearling’s paddock, getting acquainted with his new companion. Erestor had stayed close, watching, explaining, sometimes joining in the fun of playing with the yearlings. When the evening neared, Glorfindel finally broke away from Asfaloth, following Erestor to the breeding barn to help with the evening care. Later, they made a quick detour to the nearest bathing pool before getting ready for dinner, stealing a quick kiss now and then with a promise for more, later.

They were the last to arrive and were quickly brought to the king’s table, so dinner could be served. Glorfindel, who found himself sitting between Celeborn and Celebrían, was content to listen to the buzz of conversation around him, and enjoyed the nearly magical change his surroundings had undergone in the evening. It was fully dark now, and the lowest branches were hung with lighted glass globes in many colours, painting the scenery in a fairy-like light. Soft music played in the background, and night-blooming flowers scented the air. The food was as unusual as it was delicious, and Glorfindel felt himself relaxing more and more. Already, after the first evening, he had forgiven Elrond for dragging him away from Rivendell and, by now, he was truly grateful that he had come. Even had he not met Erestor, or been gifted with Asfaloth - just seeing the mellyrn, and being in this magical place was worth every effort.

Later, Glorfindel overheard Celebrían teasing Erestor about an upcoming journey.

“… and you will whom look after Elrond for me, will you?”

Looking after Elrond? Erestor?

“Are you travelling to Imladris?” he asked, surprised.

Erestor looked at him with a warm smile, but it was Celeborn who answered Glorfindel’s question.

“Did you not know Erestor is coming with you?”

“No.” Glorfindel shook his head. This was unexpected, but more than welcome!

“Amdír is gifting us with some horses,” Elrond now joined in, “and Erestor is bringing his experience in breeding. He will be our new horse master.”

“This is great news! Imladris’ stables can certainly do with new blood,” Glorfindel said, smiling warmly at Erestor.

“I am glad you approve,” Galadriel teased, causing the whole company to laugh.

King Amdír, who had only heard the last part of the conversation, turned to Glorfindel. “You must be excited to have your brother coming back with you.”

“Brother? I do not have a brother,” Glorfindel answered, puzzled.

Everybody at the table fell silent, looking from him to Erestor.

“You did not know, then?” Galadriel asked softly.

“Know what?” This did not make any sense. He looked at Erestor, who met his gaze with an unreadable face.

Glorfindel felt as if everything within him froze, and his brain became unable to process the information he heard.

“I do not have a brother,” he said hoarsely. “My mother died after we crossed the ice.”

The silence became nearly palpable. Celebrían fussed nervously with her glass.

Finally, Erestor spoke.

“My father came to Ossiriand and joined my mother’s people. He had lost his first wife, and parted with his son, my mother told me. He fathered another son with my mother, who he loved, but not enough to stay with her. He went back to Valinor when I was still a child.”

Something shattered inside Glorfindel. “Your father - what was his name?” He did not look at Erestor.

“Angrenor. My mother said I resemble him strongly.”

Glorfindel stared at Erestor, now seeing the resemblance, the shining black hair so much like his father’s, the cheekbones and mouth, and the slant of the eyes, although their colour was different, for his father had had the typical silver-grey eyes of the Noldor. No wonder Erestor had seemed so familiar!

Erestor still looked at him without betraying any emotion, but Glorfindel did not miss the hurt and fright in his eyes. But he was unable to, he -

Glorfindel found himself standing, without knowing how he had got up. He was hot and cold at the same time, and his head buzzed. He cleared his throat, just barely suppressing a sob.

“Forgive me, I - I -”

Overwhelmed, Glorfindel did something he had never done before in his whole life: he bolted. This was too much, he could not bear it. He turned and forced himself to walk slowly, keeping himself tightly in check, until he had reached the surrounding mellyrn. Then he cared no longer and ran away, into the forest.

oOo

Laurefindë! Laurefindë, come back. Running away is not a solution.

Glorfindel looked up, although there was nothing to see but the small group of yearlings, dozing or grazing peacefully. It was still dark, but the scent of the air had already changed, announcing the sunrise.

“I will never have my peace from you, will I?” he said bitterly, confident that she would hear him even so.

I do not want any harm to come to you, even if you behave so childishly and hurt one of my most trusted friends.

“He knew! He knew, and said nothing, and let me fall in love with him.”

And you had no part in this at all, of course, Galadriel gave back.

Her mental voice was cold this time, and Glorfindel closed his eyes. She was right, of course; had he proceeded differently with Erestor, taken his time to know him better, Erestor would have been able to tell. But he was too deeply hurt to acknowledge this.

“How could my father do this to me, Tanis? How could he betray me so, and my mother?”

You have no right to condemn your father because he loved again, Laurë. We do not chose who we love. You know well enough how painful it is to lose those you love, and remain behind.”

“Yes.” With a sigh, Glorfindel got up. Over the treetops, the colour of the sky had changed to a dark purple. He went to Asfaloth for a last hug before he returned to the city.

oOo

Epilogue

Elrond halted his horse. Below lay the hidden valley, and it was only a few steps to the passage leading downward.

Glorfindel stopped at his side, waving the rest of their company on. “Home again,” he said.

Elrond looked down over his little realm, the glittering band of the Bruinen deep in the valley, so peaceful from above. They had worked hard to create this haven, which was growing and thriving and offered refuge for so many.

“This is not Gondolin, nor Tirion,” he said. “We have always made our own rules, and I am not going to change this now. I do not see any impediment to your love for Erestor.”

“I do not love him,” Glorfindel said stiffly, wanting to ride on, but Elrond held him back.

“No? Well then, what is the reason for you not even looking at each other, or avoiding each other at all cost?”

Glorfindel did not answer.

Elrond sighed.

“I care for you deeply, Laurë, but I also care for Erestor whom I have known all my life. You are both hurting, and I would do anything in my power to help you. I have talked with Galadriel about this, of course, as well as with Celeborn. They both agree with me. Your love might be unusual, but it is not impossible.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “We are brothers. Nothing can change that.” His voice was hoarse.

“True, you have the same father. But you were born nearly an age apart, you have never met before, and you have both grown up and lived in completely different cultures. For all intents and purposes you are strangers. Now you met and fell in love, which is a wonderful, precious gift. I would not have you spurn this gift, and suffer for something you did not choose, but that was given to you. Erestor did not choose it either, but he at least is ready to accept it.”

Glorfindel said nothing, but nodded slightly, indicating that he had heard. Elrond spurred his horse on, and Glorfindel followed him, deep in thought.

Their arrival was a turbulent affair. Most of Imladris was assembled to welcome them, although their small group had not even been gone for a season. Greetings and news were exchanged, the new horses admired, baggage taken away and refreshments offered to the travellers.

Glorfindel dismounted, thanking the groom who took his mare, and looked around. There, a bit apart from the other horses, was Asfaloth, led away by the person he was looking for. Asfaloth had seen him and whinnied softly, bringing Erestor to a halt.

Glorfindel joined them and gently petted the young horse. He sought Erestor’s gaze.

“I am a fool,” he said, “but I am so very glad you came with us after all. Can you forgive me, Erestor? I know I have made mistakes, but so have you. I would start anew, if you approve.”

Erestor looked at him for a long while. Then he nodded and took the hand Glorfindel extended to him.

“A new start,” he said, pressing the hand.

Glorfindel smiled.

~ finis ~

Chapter End Notes

Written for the Ardor in August Exchange 2015 for aprilmoon08.
Prompt: Requested pairing = Erestor/Glorfindel | Story elements = angst, hurt/comfort, love, warmth, happy ending. sex scene would be nice. I want Erestor to be the strong person we always see. I would like to see a bit colder Glorfindel, who is about keeping distance. I also like Glorfindel being the rogue. Would like to see incest in the way of Glorfindel and Erestor are half brothers.