Archive of Our Own

For the longest time, Erestor pretended he no longer loved his husband.

It was stupid, not to mention petty, but let it not be said that Elves were not without such tendencies. In fact, Elves were capable of sustaining such emotional states for very long periods of time, so that grudges could be held for generations, and quarrels could span an age.

They really had no excuse save the distractions at the time. Sauron was rising to power, Estel came and then left them so quickly, Mithrandir was ever busy, they soon had Halflings to protect and an enemy to keep at bay, and they were losing Arwen to the Gift of the Half-Elves. All in all, a quarrel between spouses seemed too small a thing to be spared any mind, and so they went about their way - Erestor as chief counsellor to Elrond Eärendilion, and Glorfindel going wherever in Middle-Earth that aid was needed - each solving problems except the one they had at home.

Glorfindel had never been the loudest of Elves.

He inevitably called attention to be sure, for by the Third Age there were few Elves walking in Middle-Earth who still had with them the Light of the Trees. He handled such attention well, too, for Glorfindel was far from shy, and he was old enough and wise enough to understand what his presence represented and meant to Elves in Middle-Earth. He brought comfort and security wherever he went and he welcomed company when it came; he never kept a smile from another, nor what small bit of happiness he can bestow.

But Glorfindel, left to his own devices, was a quiet, thoughtful sort of Elf. He liked reading and slow, solemn love songs, and he preferred clear evening skies to Arien's brighter ones. He liked the company of friends often and well enough, but apparently, the company he most favoured back in those early days in Lindon was just one particular Elf, dark and cynical and suspicious, honed by an entire age looking at a perfect view of Thangorodrim.

Theirs had been an unlikely match as far as Erestor was concerned, but oddly, Elrond, Galadriel, and even Gil-galad had been all for it. They seemed amused by Glorfindel's favour and were infinitely entertained by Erestor's long but sensibly developed confusion. Nonetheless, Erestor was unbound and Glorfindel was impressive and charming; Erestor did not stand a chance.

After Lórien, Erestor brought Glorfindel back home in Tirion.

Glorfindel had not yet seen Erestor's home. How would he, when they parted ways the moment they set foot in Eldamar? That was also the time at the height of Erestor's folly, when he built a home precisely to prove a point: that he would live there alone, unbound, welcoming no one.

So Erestor had a small bed, but Glorfindel did not mind.

"I like sleeping close to you anyway," he said with a smile, before opening his arms to welcome Erestor within them.

The thing with Glorfindel, however, was he still held about him an air that Erestor could not fully understand. Sometimes, Erestor would stand at the doorway looking out of their backyard, watching Glorfindel sitting with the birds under the shade of a tree.

In those hours, Erestor would keep his mind quiet so as to fill himself with Glorfindel's thoughts, listen to the quiet beating of his heart. It was therefore easy enough to recognise the shadow that dwelt in there still, faint and even distant, but one that was constantly at the periphery.

"I do not understand," Erestor later confided in Elrond, who was the first to notice Glorfindel's subdued demeanour and asked about it. "Are we not supposed to heal in Aman? He was even in Lórien for a long time."

"Is Glorfindel still not well?" asked his old lord and friend.

"He is well, only..." Erestor looked out to the sunny window. It was one of those rare days when Glorfindel went out on an errand. "He is quiet, perhaps? You have seen him. There is a sad air about him that I cannot seem to get rid of."

"The spirit is strong, but not invulnerable. You and Glorfindel have been cut from one another for how long?"

"A year or so." Erestor shook his head. "Still, it makes no sense."

"Why would it make no sense? The pain of heartbreak is about as real as any wound, and like all wounds, can take time to heal even when one has already extracted that which has caused it." Elrond sat back, his grey eyes ever sharp as he looked at Erestor. "A year can be long or short depending on how one spends it. A wound, for instance, can fester quite badly within a year."

"Should he not be above such things?"

To this, Elrond smiled. "Why would he be? I have known of many hardy warriors who still cry over poetry and old love songs. Glorfindel, whatever his accomplishments, has always struck me as an Elf ruled over by his heart, as sensitive to such matters as any minstrel."

Erestor sighed, shook his head again. "Still, for it to be over nothing but..."

He stopped, not even daring to think such a thing even in the confidence of one whom he already considered a brother. Elrond caught him, however, and seemed to understand, for he smiled at Erestor.

"Nothing but you leaving him, my friend? You, who are his mate and the one person in the whole of Arda whom he chose for himself?" Elrond pointed out such things, but not unkindly. "You underestimate the power you hold over Glorfindel. I dare say, Erestor, that indeed, Glorfindel would not bow for any creature dark and larger or greater than he is. But to you?" He laughed. "Aiya, my friend. I have seen him lose to you the moment he saw you. He has not stopped losing to you since."

The thing with Glorfindel was that he was always so self-sufficient. In fact, he had enough strength and experience in him to command a city. People followed where he led, and lords of Elves and Men alike listened to his counsel.

One would wonder what use such a person had of any other. Back before they married, back when things were still new, Erestor would sometimes sit apart from the crowd that just naturally seemed to flock around Glorfindel, and he would wonder what Glorfindel ever wanted in having a cynical, temperamental old counsellor for a mate. It made no sense, but Glorfindel never failed to brighten whenever Erestor approached. To one as old and proud as Erestor, nothing was more seductive than that.

They said that the Noldor were the most restless in Aman. It was not everyone, perhaps not even barely a tenth of the population, but they were there, Elves who moved to and fro in search of a place to settle, finding it difficult to find peace after Middle-Earth.

It was not that Glorfindel did not like Tirion. Most of their friends from Lindon and Imladris chose to dwell there, and Glorfindel had ever been happy with family. But he did not enjoy the crowded market place where they went to regularly to trade things and stock on provisions, and he did not like the way different establishments in the main city were always filled with people.

He asked Erestor to move during one of their afternoon walks.

"If I asked you to come with me to New Gondolin, would you go?"

Erestor looked back at him, more surprised about receiving a request than anything else. Those days, Glorfindel hardly asked for anything, seemingly contenting himself solely on the things that Erestor offered him, be it when dinner would be, what would be served, when he would kiss him good night.

"That is where I built a house, and I believe it stands there still. I do not think anyone would take it." Glorfindel went on quickly to say, "Also... I would like to introduce you to my old friends. There are also less people there; I thought you might like that."

It was the most that Glorfindel had ever asked in a while, and Erestor was struck by how much he wanted to grant him this.

"All right," he said, feeling utterly ridiculous for the fast beating of his heart. "When do you want to go?"

"Soon?" Glorfindel asked. "We can tell Elrond and the others tomorrow, and then perhaps..."

Nerves, uncertainty - they were coming from Glorfindel and towards Erestor in waves now, although it seemed that Glorfindel kept them at bay so that it took Erestor a while to notice. Erestor felt the urgent need to appease him.

"All right." He stepped towards Glorfindel and embraced him. He kissed him, felt the sigh against his lips and saw the moment the other closed his eyes. "All right. We shall tell them, and then we shall go."

"And who might this be?"

Ecthelion, funny enough, looked exactly how Erestor imagined him to be from Glorfindel's stories about him. He stood about as tall as Glorfindel and was nearly of the same build. He also had the same thoughtful air about him, even also the same warmth, like he would think well of whomever he had in front of him. Erestor could see how two such people could be friends.

Glorfindel gestured to Erestor. "This is Erestor, my husband."

Ecthelion had thick, expressive eyebrows that rose now in surprise. "You certainly work fast. You were gone barely a year."

"Erestor is my husband since my time in Lindon," explained Glorfindel.

Those eyebrows curve down now in obvious confusion. "I thought you said you had no mate."

Erestor's gaze lowered for a moment at that, before glancing back at Glorfindel. His husband did not immediately reply, although a gamut of emotions did flit past Erestor's consciousness, too quick to name.

"I did not at the time that you asked."

Erestor wondered what story was behind all this - when it was that Ecthelion asked, what exactly did Glorfindel say. It did not seem to be a good memory for his mate, for he stood a bit more tensely now.

Ecthelion seemed to sense this as well, for he quickly turned to Erestor. "Oh! Pardon me. I was not expecting such a meeting, so in my surprise I might have said something rude. Well met, Erestor!" The old Lord of the Fountain smiled widely along with his greeting. "Welcome to New Gondolin - home of the tired old snobs. We get that often," this he said in mock whisper to Glorfindel, "to which I only say that one does not live in an enclosed vale for so many centuries and not be used to the solitude." He turned back to Erestor. "Anyway, I am happy to see my oldest friend returned to us, and doubly glad am I to meet his mate. I have, after all and in my ignorance at the time, told him to get one."

Ecthelion then took Erestor's hands in welcome, and Erestor returned that hold in greeting. Almost immediately, a cold pang lanced through Erestor's heart, making him let go of Ecthelion and turn to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel, however, was still smiling.

"If you do not mind, old friend, 'twas a long journey," said his golden-haired mate. Nothing about him looked amiss.

"Yes, of course," agreed Ecthelion. "Although you must both come out soonest and greet the others? You do also know you owe me a story, old friend."

Glorfindel was still smiling. "I do at that, but perhaps some other day."

Glorfindel had a large bed in New Gondolin. His house, although small, was clearly built for two - so unlike Erestor's place in Tirion. The bedroom he kept was large and roomy, not far from what their room had been in Imladris. It even faced west, which was Erestor's preference, for he disliked being woken at early morning, but did like the colour of the Sun in the afternoon.

"Is it all right?"

Glorfindel came up behind Erestor, and soon there were strong arms wrapping slowly around Erestor's waist. Glorfindel kissed Erestor's hair, who then turned slightly so that Glorfindel could also kiss a cheek.

"It is lovely," he said honestly. He truly liked the house; so much about it were things that catered to his taste.

"Good," whispered Glorfindel, arms tightening around Erestor. "Good. I am relieved."

In those days, few things felt more right and necessary than kissing Glorfindel. There was something in the way he held Erestor so close and tightly that called out to something deep and needy within Erestor, demanding that he answered in turn. He therefore turned around to face the other now, still in the circle of those arms. He took Glorfindel's face between his hands and lifted his chin the short way needed to kiss those lips.

When Erestor kissed Glorfindel again here in Aman, and after such a long time, it felt as though they kissed for the first time again. Erestor felt the thrill, the excitement, but unlike most first kisses, it also brought with it the weight of so much memories, both good and painful alike. It was a feeling that Erestor had not yet shaken off even now.

They kissed for some time, there in the middle of that bedroom that felt so familiar and welcoming to Erestor. When they parted, Glorfindel was smiling - the brightest that Erestor had seen thus far in Aman.

"Here," he said, gently taking Erestor's hands and pulling. "Let me show you the back. You will like the view."

It took a while for Erestor to notice, but once he did, he still almost did not believe it: Glorfindel grew jealous easily.

To be fair, he did not used to be. Back in Middle-Earth, Glorfindel was friendly and confident and generous. He did not begrudge Erestor any friends, not even the potential and almost lovers that he inevitably encountered and considered before Glorfindel came along.

Nowadays, Erestor sensed that Glorfindel was most secure when they laid together. In the deepest night, their hearts as bare as their bodies in such moments, Glorfindel's mind was clearest to him, and it sang with joy.

He was also calm when they rode on horseback together, with Erestor seated to Glorfindel's front, his arms wrapped securely around Erestor. Glorfindel was calm when they walked hand in hand along an empty road, like they used to do in Tirion. Glorfindel was calm when they were at home, just the two of them.

The problem was that Erestor could not seem to sustain that calm.

That pang that Erestor felt back when he greeted Ecthelion for the first time would come every so often - when Erestor touched another, when someone pulled him to whisper and gossip in his ear, or even that one time when he bumped into a stranger and the other's hands came to catch him. Glorfindel was quick to arrive at Erestor's side, taking his hand and pulling him away after apologising once to the other Elf.

Glorfindel still grew restless in crowds. It would get even worse when their hands parted, and during such times, Erestor could feel Glorfindel's eyes following him wherever he went. When Erestor conversed with another, Glorfindel would find a way to stand nearby. He never made any scenes however, for he was still so painfully kind and polite, and he never brought it up afterwards either even when it was just the two of them back at home.

But Erestor recognised that clawing ache in his chest, that feeling that seeped at the seams where Glorfindel's heart was reflected and linked to his own. He knew that feeling, for he himself had had it often. One cannot be with Glorfindel of Gondolin - the Balrog Slayer, Captain of the Armies of Lindon, Emissary of Manwë Sulimo, fair and beautiful Glorfindel who shone with the light of Aman - and not have some moments of doubt.

In Middle-Earth, Erestor was not without moments when he grew jealous of someone who stood too close to Glorfindel. There had even been times when he picked at an encounter and confronted Glorfindel about it. His poor mate would almost always seem confused at first. Time soon came when he learnt, and Erestor could see how Glorfindel would smile at another but take that conscious step back, keeping always a polite distance.

He was a good mate, and Erestor felt the fool for pushing him away the way he did. It was therefore the least he could do to be the one to step back this time around, to smile politely at whomever he was speaking with, and keep a safe distance to silence the doubt in his mate's mind.

Time passed, but things did not seem to get any better. Whether they grew worse was another question. On the outside, things seemed well; they were together, they attended events together, and nowadays, everyone in New Gondolin knew that Erestor was Glorfindel's spouse from his second life in Middle-Earth.

Despite that Glorfindel should have been the one who was more familiar and more trusting of the people in their small city, there were still some things that seemed to bother him. He was still not comfortable with people standing too close to Erestor. There was even a day at the market when Erestor was conversing with Rog - friendly Rog whom they saw often, and who was most definitely and happily married himself - and Glorfindel found a way to excuse Erestor from the encounter and pull him to where there was less people.

And so such time came when Erestor figured that it was his turn to issue the next invitation.

"Would you like for us to go away?" he asked Glorfindel one day.

"Go away where?"

"Far away, just the two of us." Erestor tried a smile. "Did we not used to wonder what it would be like to stand together at the edge of the world?"

Back in those long years of the Last Alliance, when they laid siege at the gates of Mordor, the two of them would often talk about where they wanted to go to take their minds off where they were, in the cold plains of Dagorlad, so close to Barad-dûr. Glorfindel told him about his two companions, clad in blue, who journeyed to the east and whom he never saw again. Erestor wondered how far east "east" truly was, for there were no records of a true edge to the Middle-Earth that they knew.

"It would be nice to know," Erestor had said at the time.

"We should go," said Glorfindel, so quick yet to grin back in those days. "To stand on the edge of the world with you - now there is a picture I could take to war with me."

Erestor was not entirely certain what he expected, making such an offer now. Granted, they were no longer in Middle-Earth, and such a journey would this time take them west. He did not know if that mattered. He was nervous, too, because he realised that they never really talked about any problem between them since leaving Lórien. Would Glorfindel find it strange for Erestor to say these things now?

Carefully, he looked at Glorfindel, and waited. The offer seemed to catch Glorfindel by surprise, and for a seemingly long moment, his heart was guarded.

Eventually, however, he took Erestor's hand. He kissed the back of it, then the palm. He pulled that hand so Erestor would come closer. And then he kissed him.

They took two horses with them and some provisions. Glorfindel took with him some hunting knives, while Erestor had with him the waybread that Celebrían gave to him when she heard about their journey.

They skirted the Pelóri, which made for a long ride, but Erestor did not wish to travel directly west, for he heard that Mandos's territory was vast and grew ever larger with the ages that passed. He did not know where the Halls exactly were, but he did not want for them to come upon them accidentally, not with Estë's threats about Glorfindel and the call of Mandos ever present in his heart.

If Glorfindel wondered at the path Erestor set for them, he did not say anything. Where Erestor led, he followed, and although Erestor worried about that at first, each time he checked, Glorfindel was nothing but content.

The lands on the edge of the world, apparently, was no different than the uninhabited lands that they passed in their journey. The grass grew high there, and the winds blew strongly for there were no great structures to break them.

That great, unfamiliar sea was dark and just barely visible in the pre-light of dawn. Its waves crashed loudly against the cliffs upon which they stood, the sounds of them with the roaring wind loud and unlike anything they have heard before.

"It is daunting, isn't it?" Glorfindel said beside him.

It was almost like the Belegaer, except... it was also easy to see that it was not the Sea that they knew. This one felt more vast than anything they have ever encountered. Daunting, Glorfindel called it, and it was - unfamiliar, uncharted, larger than anything they have ever had to behold.

"I hurt you, don't I?" he heard Glorfindel say again beside him. "How I am, with my silence, my jealousy. Forgive me."

"I hurt you first." It was the first time Erestor said it, and it struck him that he realised only now. "With my doubts, my insecurity. I was unable to see you as my equal for you seemed so much greater than all of us. I did not believe you had any need of me."

Glorfindel listened to these words with a heavy heart. He took Erestor's hand and made him turn so that he was now facing Glorfindel, the winds from the great sea blowing their hair to one side.

Erestor looked up at Glorfindel's face. Even without the whisperings of it from the link in their minds and hearts, he saw the great sorrow that resided there. Glorfindel clung to Erestor's hands tightly, and his blue eyes spoke the things he never wished to saddle Erestor with: the pain, the longing, the call for a mate to meet him where he stood, no matter how great the height. Erestor had never felt more ashamed at failing him.

"Now it seems I have brought you down to my level," he said to him, this beautiful creature whom he foolishly took for himself, but did not care for in the way that he deserved. "You did not used to feel such things. This is all my fault."

"Do not fault yourself for it all," said Glorfindel. "There were - are - two of us in this marriage. For all that I felt love for you, I was never really good at speaking to you, or even in telling you what I wanted. If I did, I would have told you every day that the Sun rises for me wherever you stand, and that if it were up to me, I would have you hold my hand at all times, never mind what the other councillors would say, or even our lords. I would kiss you every time I saw you, even in those later days when you were not even speaking to me anymore."

Glorfindel sighed as he looked down at their joint hands. "No matter what goes with my name, faced with you, I feel as small and as foolish as a child. I did not even know how to properly fight with you. When I felt you drifting away, I let you, foolishly thinking that I should give you the freedom to do as you wished. I was poor anchor for you, and I regret it so. I am sorry, Erestor."

Erestor was not entirely sure when he did it, but next he knew he was embracing Glorfindel so tightly. "Do not apologise, not to me - not after everything that I did. I just hope to see you smile again, like you used to."

He heard and felt Glorfindel taking a deep breath, his arms just as tight around Erestor. "I wish for nothing more than to give you what you want. Help me do so?"

"Always," promised Erestor. "I will rebuild what I have broken until such time that you grow to trust me again."

"I do trust you."

Erestor shook his head and pulled back to look Glorfindel in the eyes. "You wish to and your mind does, but your heart does not. I do not blame it."

"I love you, Erestor," said the other quickly, hands tightening around Erestor's wrists. "I love you, please--"

"There, do you see?" Erestor leaned over, brought their faces closer. He did not immediately kiss Glorfindel, instead only letting their foreheads touch, savouring the moment until Glorfindel's breathing grew slower. Erestor let his thumb brush against a smooth cheek in a light caress. "Every time that it seems as if something stands between us, you find a need to say such things. I pray for a time when you do not feel as if you have to, for whatever comes, you know I will stand by your side."

"It might take time. Even now, never have I felt more safe than standing with you here, away from everything. Here, I see that you are mine. But take me away from this and back where the others are..."

Erestor kissed him then, to silence his worries and even those that Erestor could feel in his own heart. "We do not need to go back - not until you are ready... or even never, if you wish it so. We can stay here." Another kiss, light and fleeting and precious. Glorfindel was so precious to him and it hurt so much to be with him now, with things the way they were, yet Erestor knew he would choose to be in no place else. He would promise him anything. "Take as long as you need. I will be with you this time around."

The waves that crashed upon the cliffs at the edge of Aman were strong, far stronger than anything they had ever seen in Mithlond in Middle-Earth. Still, even as the winds blew so violently around them, they stood two steady figures in that seeming tempest.

And behind them in the east, a bright Sun was rising.