The Meaning of Snow by Ysilme

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Remembering

5. Remembering

The wind was rattling the shutters and blowing gusts of dancing snow in every corner, piling up snowdrifts the like of which Imladris had rarely seen. Winter had set in unusually early this year and presented the inhabitants of the Hidden Valley with huge amounts of snow even as early as firith.

A lithe figure, heavily bundled up against the cold, hastened to reach the shelter of the main house, fumbling with stiff fingers with the latch before it opened and admitted him inside. It was early yet, although darkness had already descended, and he heard the sounds  of dinner being prepared from the kitchens while he hurried along the corridor and up the stairs. On the first floor, he turned into another corridor, opened a door and entered.

Blessed silence welcomed him, and Elrohir let out a contended sigh. There were few better things than coming home tired and cold to the warmth and cosiness of his own room, where his beloved was waiting for him.

“I am home,” he said, starting to take off the outer layers of his clothing.

“I noticed as much,” came the dry answer.

Elrohir grinned. His dark-haired mate was sitting by the fire with his back to him and had not turned, but Elrohir did not expect him to. He went into the bedchamber to discard his clothes and wash his hands. When he came back, he stepped up behind the other, trying to slip his hands inside his tunic.

“Do not even think of it. I know what you plan to do with these icicles you call fingers.”

Elrohir chuckled. “But my hands are cold!” However, he obediently took them away, placed a fond kiss on the other’s crown instead and sat down at his feet, as close to the fire as possible. Warm hands started a gentle massage of his shoulders, and from another chair, a red and black feline stood up after some stretching and came over to him to curl up on his lap.

“Hullo, Morusso,” Elrohir said, burying his fingers in the warm fur.

“I gather everything went well?”

Elrohir nodded. “Yes. It took long even for a first birth, but mother and child are fine. Can we go down to dinner soon? I am famished.”

Erestor shook his head. “There is no need, I ordered dinner to be brought up.”

“Oh, great!” Elrohir’s face lit up, and then fell again. “Damn! I have totally forgotten what day it is today. I am so sorry, Erestor.”

He turned to look up at his beloved, truly contrite about his omission, but Erestor just laughed out loud.

“It does not matter, Rohi! I know well enough what it means to be the mate of a healer, and I have celebrated so many begetting days in my life already that I do not mind you spending this one with another. You are here now, which is all that counts.”

o-o-o-o-o

Later, they sat in front of the fire, sharing a bottle of wine.

“Do you remember, that first winter?”

Erestor chuckled. “Oh yes, how could I forget it? My first journey in several yéni, and I got caught in a rockslide, broke my leg and nearly froze to death in a dismal cave somewhere up in the Hithaeglir.”

Elrohir raised his eyebrow. “So this is what you remember about that time?”

“Yes, but not only this. I also remember a young, determined elf who went out to find me, took care of me and made me comfortable under the worst circumstances. I remember fire coaxed out of stone, delicious food made from emergency provisions and warm, comfortable nights in his arms.”

He put his glass down and reached for Elrohir, drawing him close.

Elrohir leant into the embrace. “My memories are rather about keeping that fire going with nearly no firewood, providing sustenance needed by my patients, and keeping you distracted from the time and the wait for the rescue party.” He chuckled.

“However, there is another memory about this time, one of the best of my life.”

Erestor raised is eyebrows in question. “And what might that be?”

Elrohir took a strand of black hair, so much finer than his own, and fingered it thoughtfully. “You know, I had been quite reluctant to come home. After I had blurted my juvenile infatuation at you and had kindly been told that I was far too young to think about love, I felt so hurt and humiliated, I never wanted to see you again, convinced that you would never stop seeing the child in me.”

Erestor tightened his embrace a little. “Oh dear, I had forgotten that. I did not want to hurt you, of course, but there is no easy way to deal with such occurrences.”

“You mean you had declarations of eternal love from adolescents on a regular base?” Elrohir smirked.

“No, of course not, silly. Stop spouting nonsense and give me back my glass.”

Elrohir complied, and after taking a sip, Erestor asked: “What changed your mind, then?”

“We had to come home, of course, mother would never have forgiven us if we had missed our First Yén Celebration. I am sure she made our grandparents accompany us to assure our timely arrival.”

Erestor laughed. Elrohir grinned, too, but then he sobered.

“Yet upon our arrival we heard about the rockslide and that you were missing, and all I could think of was my fear for your life. Finding you and taking care of you in the way I did helped me come to terms with my feelings. I realised that what I felt was not infatuation, but love; but also that because I loved you, it was more important to me that you were well and happy, no matter what this meant for me. I realised that I wanted to be close to you, even if it was just as a friend. I hoped for more, of course, but I was ready to accept that it might never happen.”

“And over the years, love happened after all,” Erestor said with a fond smile.

“It only took another yén, after all,” Elrohir deadpanned.

Erestor kissed him on the temple. “Well, you were right - I really needed to perceive you as an adult. Your brother and you had been like children to me and, for the longest time, I was unable to feel different about you. I still have parental feelings for Elladan at that. I am glad that you did not give up on me, though. Thank you, beloved. Thank you for saving me, for loving me, and for your patience until I realised what you mean to me.”

Elrohir took Erestor’s glass and put it down. Tightening their embrace, he kissed Erestor tenderly, and then swept him up and carried him over to the bedroom. “Better show me. Hands-on experience is always best, as you keep reminding me.”

Finis

Chapter End Notes

Written for Aglarien for My Slashy Valentine 2016 for the following prompt:
Requested pairing = Erestor/Glorfindel or Erestor/Elrond; or Erestor/Elrohir or Glorfindel/Elladan.
Story elements = 3rd age Imladris, winter, inclement weather, someone is lost returning home. Your choice who and how and why. I would be perfectly happy with a G or a PG13 story is the muses lead there.

Tolkien tells us in the Laws and Customs Among The Eldar that Elves reach the shape and stature of an adult around their 50th year, while some are fully-grown only around their 100th. I’m happily adopting the fanon notion of equalling the age of 50 or 60 with maturity, but also think that for a people with a more or less infinite lifespan, a period of transition between youth and the full responsibility of an adult seems likely. So does a celebration to mark that date which must be an important one for a young elf. Since Elves are also counting time in long years, or yéni, equalling 144 solar years, I find it logical to chose not their 100th, but 144th begetting day for this occasion.

My original idea for this story centred around this celebration for Elrond’s sons, and what this would mean for Elrohir’s future life in particular. But the story turned out to have its own mind and led me somewhere else, so we don’t see the celebration and the events around it taking place after all. I hope I still managed to show Elrohir in this transition from youngling to mature adult not only physically, but also in his own perception.

For those who are as geeky as me, there's a sketch of the ravine as well as of Elrohir's lamp.

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