Betrothal To An Elf
Part 18
Posted: August 31, 2007
Title: Betrothal To An Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë
Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel talk about the twins.
*****
Lost in his daydream, Glorfindel did not hear the other elf approach.
“What are you thinking of?” The words were softly spoken so as not to startle the seneschal overmuch. Glorfindel turned, and then smiled as he saw who it was.
Erestor sat down next to his betrothed. “You were far away, melethen. Were you back in Gondolin?” The advisor knew that, sometimes, Glorfindel would think about his first life, the reminiscences often making the seneschal melancholy.
Glorfindel nodded in reply to Erestor’s question. “I was thinking of Ecthelion’s last gift to me. It was a stiletto, made of mithril. It was a beautiful thing, one he had especially made for me. But it was lost, as so many things were, when Gondolin fell.”
“You miss him.”
“I do. He was a good friend, a great warrior. He was the closest thing to a brother I could have had.” Glorfindel smiled briefly before staring at the trees. “Iavas approaches. Already the days are getting shorter, the nights colder,” he said softly. “Soon the leaves will begin to fall.”
Erestor kept quiet, allowing Glorfindel more time with his memory. Soon, however, the reason why he sought his lover out came to the fore. “There is something I need to speak to you about. No, not about me,” he added, seeing Glorfindel’s questioning look. “It concerns the twins.”
Understanding dawned in the seneschal’s eyes. “The time has come, then?”
The darkling elf took a deep breath. “I think so. Elrohir came to me earlier today. I think he is beginning to realise that the other half to his soul is no other than Elladan.”
“How does he feel about that?”
“Frightened, though he does his best to try and hide it.”
“What of Elladan?”
Erestor shook his head. “I do not know. What I do know, however, is that we have seen very little of him. Mayhap it could be because he has come to the same realisation as his brother, but until someone actually speaks to him, we can not be certain.”
“Has Elrohir spoken to Elrond?” Glorfindel asked.
“No. For some reason he decided I was easier to talk to than his father, something I find rather strange.”
“He trusts you,” Glorfindel said quietly. “You have always been there for him, listened to him. It is not that he can not speak to his father, just that he sees you as his mentor.”
Erestor snorted. “His mentor? A fine mentor I am if I can not deal with my own issues, let alone someone else’s.”
Glorfindel smiled as he took Erestor in his arms. “Personally, I can not think of a better elf.”
“Flatterer,” Erestor grumbled, but the seneschal detected the pleased undertone in his lover’s voice.
The darkling elf pulled away slightly and looked at Glorfindel seriously. “We need to be mindful; this will not be easy for either of them. For too long they have assumed that they were separate entities, and the idea that they are actually two halves of one soul will be hard for them to absorb.”
Glorfindel nodded in agreement. “I suggest we go and speak to Elrond; mayhap Elladan has mentioned something to him. Either way, he needs to know that the time is upon us.”
*****
Elvish translations:
iavas – autumn
melethen – my love
Stiletto: n. a short dagger with a tapering blade. Origin Italian, ‘little dagger’.
*****
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