Chapter Text
Half remembered months flashed through an elf's mind as a ship came in, docked, and it's passengers walked off. Ecthelion was there at the Noldoran's side as some of the newcomers were welcomed enthusiastically, with others a bit more sedately. He knew the name of one elf before it was spoken.
Erestor.
The face itself made his heart thump and breath catch, swallowing hard as the shorter elf bowed to Arafinwe.
Were the memories a gift? He was too disoriented to tell at first, though he had long since learned the skill to hide any turmoil from view. He was relieved – nearly painfully so – when the introductions moved on to the others.
Elrond. Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. He met Galadriel anew. The curious glint in her eyes told him he was not quite good enough as to fool her, but a flicker of a plea hushed her. He would go to her later, when his thoughts were in less of a mess.
Or he wouldn't. It was impossible to say much of anything just then.
They moved away from the docks, Ecthelion gradually falling behind. Then slipped away. He needed time to himself to...to what? To remember? A world that was not Arda. A city that was named for a gemstone. Beings that toyed with the residents.
Lost in thought, he was unaware of the eyes that turned to watch him.
Ecthelion wasn't hard to find, if one wished his company. If he was not at court or with the little ones, he was in the home he'd built, beside a pool where a waterfall fell and willows that offered quiet peaceful protection.
It was to his home he went, and sat out in his favorite spot to think. Time slid by and eventually he grew aware of the shy presence behind him. Of a familiar scent of tea. His breath caught again and he turned his head a little, eyes closing.
“Come sit with me, Erestor.” The quiet invitation was all he could get out through a tight throat, but it was enough to feel the other elf approach and sit beside him. Sleeve brushed against his as Erestor poured them each a cup.
Prepared precisely as he liked it.
Ecthelion dared, when he opened his eyes, to reach out and shyly brush a lock of black hair out of Erestor's eyes, back behind an ear. The tilt of head into his touch sent his heart thudding again, this time in joy and he smiled.
“I did not remember until you stepped ashore,” he admitted after a while, simply enjoying the tea and the quiet companionship.
“Nor I,” Erestor returned.