Heroes i). Inside. by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

 

                                                         Inside. 

 

 

The "small house" of Erestor was as a palace to Glorfindel, who awoke alone in the pale apricot sheets of the delicately carved bed, in the pale apricot room with the richly embroidered carpet of deep apricot and gold thread, like the curtains at the high windows, fringed with tinkling jewels. He lifted his head, at a table of cream marble, like the floor of the great bedchamber, Erestor sat reading, leaning over a faded scroll, his dark hair hanging over his bare shoulders. Glorfindel smiled to be so soon forgotten, and slid silently out of the bed. He could see the walled garden, and even the lake, gleaming in the full Light of Laurelin, the warm wind carried the scents of flowers and ripe fruit. His mouth watered, the thought of food competed with his other desires, the urge to caress Erestor, and lure him back to bed, the urge to explore the mighty towers of Tirion, but most of all the restless vigour of his active life made him itch to run laughing through the trees, to stretch his limbs and feel the music of his heartbeat quicken. 

 

  On the table beside him a gold flagon of water stood by a golden goblet, beside a golden bowl filled with spiced nuts. Glorfindel grinned and quietly ate a handful of nuts; at least one choice could be postponed. He looked again at Erestor, desire and gratitude warmed his heart, the climbing of Taniquetil could never have been accomplished without him, nor the descent. Alone, not only in the bed, but in the city, Glorfindel looked to Erestor as to a guide or counsellor, to help him fathom the shifting Lights of the Elves in the deep waters of the busy Noldor city. 

   He looked again out of the window, absently reaching for more of the savoury nuts. The house, high on Túna, looked down over the rooftops below. Over the high wall of the garden, through the gaps in the taller trees, the lake shone, and the air was a shimmering mist against the bright sky. Beneath the balcony he could hear a fountain, and a green path, lined with flowers, meandered through the trees to a vine-shaded trellis with another marble table. Glorfindel thought of the simplicity of his own home, and even the beauty of the House of Olórin, and compared them to this palace, which Erestor considered a "small house". He felt oddly abashed, if this was a small house, what would the Halls be like, how could he stand tall among such people, amidst such splendour... 

 

   His mind settled, the contest over. He would run, he would become the athlete he had dreamed of becoming as a child. His body sang to him, longing to test itself against others, against the loathsome Celegorm and all his kin... He glanced again at Erestor, still poring over the scroll, oblivious to the storm in the heart of his beloved. Glorfindel smiled, Erestor would be with him, in spirit if nothing else. 

He moved silently across the room and kissed the naked back of his lover. 

   Erestor blushed and leaped to his feet, Glorfindel laughed and threw his arms around the slim body, pulling the yielding Elf into an embrace that left them both breathless. Glorfindel smiled into the pale grey eyes under the shadow of the dark hair. 

   "Will you come running with me ? Every day, all my life, I have run before breaking my fast. Though" he frowned and glanced over his shoulder "Those spiced nuts were irresistible today." 

  He looked again at Erestor, then felt the heat of his body, glowing from his cheeks, and the darkening pools of his eyes. Glorfindel frowned again, Erestor was almost trembling with desire, but Glorfindel burned to run. He laughed softly "Can you not wait, even an hour, while we loosen our limbs ?" he said, and kissed the dark lips. The hands of Erestor moved down his back, and Glorfindel felt the desire within him, enticing him to forget the run, to lose himself in the warm flesh. But the struggling urges fuelled his restlessness, he lifted his head and took Erestor by the shoulders. Erestor gasped softly, but closed his mouth, and, it seemed to Glorfindel, his whole face, and sighed. 

   "Running ? Yes, of course. But I should only slow you down. I do not wish to hold you back."

   "Hold me back ? I am only here at your invitation ! You will push me forward in ways that I cannot imagine. Already you have introduced me to famous actors. Slow me down ! It is I who will be dragging behind you, clinging to the hem of your cloak like a frightened child."

  Glorfindel smiled warmly as the face of Erestor lit up. 

   "You will truly walk at my side, in Tirion, before all ?"

   "Of course ! We have pledged our friendship on the heights of Taniquetil. Those words were not idle on my part. "

  Erestor sighed, and stood up straight, pride clenched his jaw. He smiled, laying his hand upon his heart. 

  "Nothing can break our friendship. Indeed, I shall still love you when Eru takes us back into his heart at the ending of Time."

  "Is that what you believe ? That we shall continue as individuals ? My mother sings another song. To her, the individuality of the Elves, and indeed the Ainur, is an illusion, to her, we are truly a part of the Music, its very notes and sounds, and at the end of Time we shall melt away, disdolving into the unimaginable Song of Eru himself."

  Erestor nodded "Believe... I believe nothing, sometimes not even my eyes. For my eyes tell me that you must love me, because I love you. My arrogant heart is certain that any whom I choose to love must also love me, though my mind knows this for folly. Yet here you are." he looked down at the naked golden body, shining in the Light of Laurelin, brighter than the furnishings... Suddenly the room looked tawdry, he hated the carpet, it seemed to clash with the beauty of his lover. He thought of clothes, they must see his tailor, he could not force Glorfindel into the Halls in his simple country attire, it would be cruel. So many things must be done... 

 

Glorfindel laughed warmly "I see the contest in your mind. You would resume your studious life, but a stranger has invaded your quiet house. You would lavish time upon me, but your books draw you away."

  Erestor was blushing again. "There is a struggle, yes, but no part of me sees beyond you. I would run with you, eat with you, sleep with you, I would give you everything... But most of all I would love with you."

  Glorfindel sighed. The face of Olórin seemed to appear before him for an instant, as though in caution. He wondered at himself, at taking so much from Erestor, when he felt no love himself. He should leave, he should have left before he started kissing Erestor, he was bringing only pain. He frowned again, and in an unaccustomed  moment of self-awareness he thought he might have a glimpse of the damage he was doing. For he never frowned, it was an unfamiliar sensation. When he was puzzled, he simply spoke to his mother and father, who would explain, or explain who to ask, or that his questions had yet to be answered. But Glorfindel realized that some people, studious and clever like Erestor, sought answers to even the unknown questions. He felt like a child among adults, and let go of Erestor, turning towards the window with a sigh.

   The movement  of his own face, into the unfamiliar frown, had opened a realm of sensation, of feeling, that troubled him. The smooth path of his life, amid the trees and flowers, lit by the love of his family, had left him unprepared for the maze of the city and the labyrinth of the courts. His mind, his spirit, were simple, innocent, carefree. He was reminded of a time in early childhood; he had swum in a pool in the woods, it had been large, almost a lake, and he had swum across, and paused to float for a time. As he lay in the cool water, he had glanced down, and floundered with panic. The smooth pebbles of the bed of the lake had fallen away, the water was far deeper than he had thought, he had felt a moment of fear, as though he were falling into an abyss. The unaccustomed frown brought the memory of fear to him, fear of the unknown depths of feeling, in his heart, in his thought, and in the minds of others. Childhood was ended, now was the time for him to take his place in the subtle, complicated world of the Eldar, and even, perhaps, to make his mark. He frowned again, he could not see beyond the moment, the unknown future was all.    

 

   But his blythe courage had him turn back to smile at Erestor, who smiled remotely, his eyes vanishingly pale in his pale face. 

   "Come then, Glorfindel, let us stretch your mighty limbs, and I shall endeavour to keep up !"

 

  Glorfindel was startled at the cool voice and steady eyes. Erestor seemed taller, proud and courageous, learned and accomplished. Glorfindel straighened his own back, thinking that after all, Erestor too was an adult, and had freely chosen to have Glorfindel in his house, and in his bed, despite knowing the truth of his heart. If Erestor was ready to endure the pain of separation should the time come when Glorfindel himself found love, that was surely his own choice. But Glorfindel knew that he himself would be pained to cause suffering, and sighed.

  "My dear friend... I must warn you... I must... If we take up this life together, you will be hurt. I feel certain of it. I do not believe that I shall ever love you, though you would be perfect. It is not a choice. If I could choose to love you, I would. Truly. And Erestor, I shall never stop looking for love."

  Glorfindel looked at the clenched jaws, the eyes like polished metal and the lashes, dark and gathered into spikes by unshed tears. Erestor was in pain already. Glorfindel admired the courage that had endured the bile of Celegorm in the House of Fëanor. Erestor lifted his chin.

   "My pride cannot admit defeat. There will be pain, whether you leave or no. But my pride will accept proof, and if you can endure to live with me until my pride is forced to accept that you do not love me, I shall despair the swifter, and be finally free. But if you leave now, then all the things I would have said, could have said, will haunt me forever, and I shall tag along after you until I have said them all. But you have told me that you will give me a chance, that I can fight to win your heart, and your love, if you stay."

  Glorfindel sighed, certain of the wisdom of his mother, and Olórin, who he knew would urge him to leave. He looked at the door, but Erestor gave a strangled yelp.

  "Please, Glorfindel, my love, please do not leave me."

   "Oh Erestor, I feel certain that this is a mistake. There is... it is... I mean... well, love is not like that, it is not a matter of fighting, or winning, it simply is, between two people. Even a Valar like the Fallen One could not make people love him, with all his power. Well, a few, maybe. But his power was in fear, which is altogether different. 

   And your spirit would be dimmed, you would be untrusting, you would conceal your feelings, to spare or provoke mine; you would present a mask to me, and the more you sought to make me love you, the more solid the mask would become, until we could not see each other at all."

  Erestor laughed coldly. "Welcome to Tirion." he said bluntly. 

 

   There was a quiet knock at the door. Erestor calmly spoke. 

   "Enter." 

 

    Before Glorfindel had moved, the servant entered, his surprise seeming greater than the startled expression Glorfindel had expected. Indeed, the face of the servant was pale, almost shocked. Glorfindel frowned, the tidings must be grim. He turned to Erestor. 

   But the servant had eyes only for Glorfindel. 

   Erestor smiled through narrowed eyes. 

   "Speak then, what news ?"

    The servant turned his head to Erestor, then back to Glorfindel. 

   "My lord, my lords... a herald of Ingwë awaits Glorfindel in the courtyard."

    "Thankyou. Inform the herald that we shall join him presently."

     Glorfindel was astonished, he had never met Ingwë, he had only ever seen him from a distance, at ceremonies, on the rare occasions that his parents felt able to leave the farm. He wondered if he had caused offence, and thought of what he had been doing, and hung his head. It seemed too much, it was his first day in Tirion, and already he was being hauled before the High King in disgrace. His life was already over. He could not endure to venture into Tirion marked with such ignominy. Erestor had been treated cruelly simply for existing, his own share of scorn would be intolerable. Anger filled him, as novel as the frown, the unfamiliar mood gripped his sinews tight as bowstring, his body grew rigid as the bow. His vision darkened, it was a moment before he became aware of Erestor looking at him through hooded eyes.

   "Shall we go down to this herald ? And, may I ask, were you expecting this ? For you said nothing to me. I thought you had pledged friendship to me ?"

   "Erestor, my friend, I cannot bear you to suffer my disgrace, I must leave Tirion. If you will, if you wish it, I will go with you, wherever you go, and stand guard at your back. But let me invite you first to the home of my family, for I would not leave you to face the scorn of the Noldor alone."

    Glorfindel took a deep breath, fighting back the rage, dreading the swamp of disappointment that lay before him. He had had such hope, he had been so eager for the rich culture of the Noldor, always something new, a song, a play, a dish, a drink, everything that was missing from the quiet farm and the endlessly repetitive Vanyar. But Erestor was looking strangely at him, a wry smile and a thoughtful frown contested for his face.  

   "Disgrace ? I cannot believe it. There is no dissimulation in you, Olórin himself thinks highly of you. Very highly indeed, as do I. I doubt that you could conceal some secret shame from the sharp eyes of the Maia, and I have been with you since we left him. What can you possibly have done to warrant disgrace ?"

   Glorfindel gaped at him "But Erestor, you already know, I have struck in anger the grandson of King Finwë. I have seduced the celebrated actor Melairë, and the cousin of Fëanor, in the same night."

   Erestor laughed "You fought Celegorm to defend your sister. The actor seduced you, and so did I. You are not in disgrace. Ingwë is likely to have been advised by Olórin to take you into his service. I merely wonder whether you will accept. "

   Erestor slid his arms around Glorfindel and licked his neck. Glorfindel sighed and stroked the smooth dark hair, but the storm of emotion raged within him. His thoughts darted this way and that, he felt like a trapped beast, with the spears of the hunters closing in around him. And beneath everything, running through his veins like sparkling miruvor, the urge to move, to run, to feel his blood sing to the beat of his heart, to stretch his sinews and his limbs, to feel the warm wind cool his face and throw his hair streaming behind him like the dust of his passing.  He gazed unseeing at the apricot walls, scarcely feeling the caressing hands of his friend, his lover.

   "We could ask what he wants ?" said Erestor finally, "Indeed, you truly would be in disgrace if you sent him away unanswered. Though, should you choose that path, my dearest friend, then I shall follow, and guard your back. Without you, this city is for me a mere rattle of noise and strife, and I shall not regret leaving."

  Glorfindel gasped and stepped away, then turned an astonished face on Erestor.

  "You jest, surely ! Not answer the herald of the High King ? I... we..." but Erestor laughed and swiftly kissed him. 

   "My poor innocent farmer... Let us dress, and attend the herald."

 

 

There were five Elves in the courtyard. The herald, formally dressed in the colours of Ingwë, stood like a statue near the fountain of Ilmarë, with the lantern in her upraised hand, pouring sparkling water fron a silver flagon. It was the finest piece in the house; even Glorfindel, who had seen few sculptures, recognised the skill. Nerdanel the wise, cousin of Erestor, had crafted it herself. He almost forgot the herald, but the herald met his eyes and laid a hand upon his heart and bowed.

 

   "You are Glorfindel ? My lord Ingwë would have you attend him, he dines this day at the House of Curumo, wisest of Maiar."

  Glorfindel felt a pride that far outweighed his doubt. He had dreamed of great feats, a deed of such daring that eventually he would win a word of praise from the High King, and a nod of approval from the great Curumo. But to face them both, on his first day as an adult, before he had begun, it was bewildering. 

    He bowed himself, scrabbling for thoughts, but merely gaped as the herald, with stifling dignity, turned and withdrew. 

  The other Elves sighed with relief and spoke softly to each other. One was an Elf of the household of Olórin, who bowed and held out a note to Glorfindel. He snapped the seal and glanced inside. Though there were few words, hastily scrawled, the graceful hand of Olórin was there. 'What do you want ?' the note read, and Glorfindel  remembered the laughing eyes of the Maia, and felt returned to himself again, as though for the first time since he had left home, only days before. He folded the note tightly and turned away. 

   Erestor spoke behind him. "I hope it is not sad tidings ?" Glorfindel gripped the note tighter. "No, it is not tidings, only the kindness of a Maia to a newcomer in Tirion."

  Erestor drew closer and breathed into his ear "I am newly made adult. It is my first day. Wish me well."

  Glorfindel gripped his hand for a moment, and when he turned back, the messenger had followed the herald away. There was an Elf alone, tall and strong, in the undyed, unadorned cloth of an athlete, his dark hair drawn back into an elaborate plait. His face seemed familiar to Glorfindel. The athlete bowed. 

   "Glorfindel ! Stars shine upon you ! I see that you have forgotten me, I am Arátor, the Arátor, of the House of Finwë. We met when you won a race as a child, it was my honour to place the garland upon your head." Arátor smiled "You truly are well named ! But I have heard that your speed grows apace, and that you are eager to continue to pursue athletic training. I have come myself, before the..." he paused, his eyes flicked briefly around the courtyard, almost dismissively, thought Glorfindel "before the delights of the city distract you into a life of idle folly."

 

 Before Glorfindel could answer, the sombre Elf in the dark, elaborately embroidered robes rose to his feet. The attendant, who had stood at his back, moved forwards a little.

   "Yet those who planned and laid the pipes to bring you fountains to bathe in might dispute your premises, and wonder at the waste of effort you put into your vain polishing of your own bodies."

  Glorfindel caught the slightest smirk from Erestor, and the flush of colour in the face of Arátor. Indeed the well-shaped muscles of the athlete glowed as if polished, and even on the farm Glorfindel had heard songs mocking the vanity of the athletes. He looked from one to the other, but whether it were vanity or no, he himself had no interest in the laying of pipes, or sculpting of rocks, or forging of tools. If the whole purpose of the athlete were merely to perfect the body, then that would be his own purpose. He did not seek to kill; for though the hunt appealed to him, the pain, blood and death that were the final goal disgusted him. Thoughts struggled in his mind, while the Elves watched. The note from Olórin was still crumpled in his hand. He gripped it tightly, as though the kindly Maia held his hand, waiting patiently for Glorfindel to see the true path, to hear the Music.  Erestor slipped his hand into the other hand of Glorfindel, a gesture of trust and support. Glorfindel gripped it for a moment, then smiled at Arátor.

   "Sir, I do not recall your face, but I shall never forget the garland, for it hangs yet on the wall in my room at home. It has been my wish, all my life, to excel at the race, and  in the feats of the body. It was with this in mind that I came to Tirion. It is beyond my hope and dream that you should be here in person, to greet me ! I... but I have just arrived, indeed, I am fresh from Taniquetil, I must... I must draw breath, at least, before I take further steps."

  "Thankyou Glorfindel, I shall leave you now, I look forwards to seeing you in the courts of the athletes." Arátor glanced at the scholars, including Erestor in his appraisal, then smiled into the eyes of Glorfindel. "You are welcome at any time, and any friends you wish to bring are also welcome." He paused and narrowed his eyes at Erestor "You yourself are a fine athlete, do not neglect the body in pursuit of... of pipes..." He bowed and withdrew.  

 

 Glorfindel turned to Erestor with shining eyes, but Erestor smiled kindly, his own eyes thoughtful. The scholars approached them, and the senior bowed.

   "My lord Erestor, on behalf of the scholars of Tirion, welcome to you. As you know, there are several of us who are eager to continue your instruction, I among them. You may join us whenever you choose. The doors of the college are open to you." He turned to smile politely at Glorfindel "And are you a scholar too, my fine fellow ? Will you be joining us among the books and scrolls, eh ?"

  Glorfindel held his temper, and his face, still, and thought of Olórin, who had introduced him to Erestor with this very moment in mind. He looked to Erestor and was pained to see the eager hope in his eyes. It felt as though he were being lured by spiders into a choking mess of cobwebs. Even on the farm, the disputes among the Noldor scholars, and with the few Vanyar who yet visited Tirion, had reached them. Olórin himself had often brought news to his parents, and the quiet garden had been loud with their arguments, and their laughter. 

   But things were taken more seriously in the city, and all the endless debates on every subject, all the arguments, all the details, the endless striving voices seemed to rise about him like the dissonance of Melkor at the Ainulindalë. He took a deep breath, and in a voice that surprised even him, until he thought of his father, he spoke calmly to the scholar. 

   "Stars shine upon you, sir. Whosoever counts himself a friend to Erestor is a friend to me. You are correct, I shall indeed seek wisdom from you all, for my ignorance is an embarrassment to my friend. And to me. But I am young, the air of Taniquetil is fresh in my hair, and it is my part also to drag Erestor into the Light. I hope you will understand that we shall be learning from each other, as well as from you and your colleagues."

  The scholar sniffed and raised his brows, then turned to Erestor "Your choice of friend is as wise as all your other choices, young scholar. Very well, it may be so." he laughed suddenly, to the astonishment of his attendant "It may be so indeed ! By Oromë ! Just being in the same place as old Arátor made me feel dusty. Yes, to neglect the body is not the path of wisdom. It may be that you will be seeing some of us old scholars in the courts of the athletes, before we find shining Glorfindel among the bookshelves." He paused thoughtfully "I will restrain my curiosity and merely wish you well at the House of Curumo."

   Glorfindel, who had begun to smile, recalled with a start the meeting that lay ahead. It had been jolly to meet Erestor in the company of his old friend Olórin. But to face an unfamiliar Maia and the High King, all at once, he would need his courage.

   He looked again at the scholar, through heightened senses, and saw the envy. The Elf had never been summoned to Ingwë, he could see as though it were written there, and Glorfindel wondered if the scorn the scholar had shown him had been sharpened by it. But it was true, he himself was as ignorant as a child, he had read little and thought less. His opinions were as thistledown to the great weight of the words of one such as this. 

   But Erestor was taking the scholar by the arm, talking cheerfully of a work he was reading, leaving Glorfindel alone in the courtyard with the fountain.

 

 Glorfindel let his thoughts drift, he dipped his fingers in the pool, then lifted them into the falling water of the fountain. He looked up at the marvellous statue, and the serene eyes, gazing endlessly at a vanishing horizon. He felt a calmness settle on him, whether from the statue, or the thought of what lay behind it, or from the freshening of the air by the gleaming water. 

   All his thoughts were as the bubbles, bursting at the edges of the spray. He floated above the moment, and saw the paths laid out before him, each one rich with promise, and he understood the words of Erestor on Taniquetil, that each path would be taken. He must be both scholar and athlete, he must take part in the vigour of the city, and return at times to the quiet of the farm, where growth moved at an altogether slower pace. His blythe heart lifted with joy, his life stretched before him, full of hope and possibilities; there was time, there was nothing that must be done in haste, they could...

    Erestor almost ran back into the courtyard, an earnest look on his face.  

    "Hurry, Glorfindel ! Ingwë awaits ! You must find something to wear, come along, my tailor will help."