In The Storm's Wake

Posted: May 2003
Type: FCS
Author's Name: Kharessa Bloodrose
Characters: Glorfindel/Erestor
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Erestor doesn't like his surprise. Glorfindel gets hurt.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or settings, and I am making no profit from the writing and sharing of this story.
Warnings: Angst, elf ventilation.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Levade, Angilou, Morgana, Elizabeth, Tessie, Alex, Larian, and Raven for their commentary and advice. Special thanks to Jen C for her help in titling this series, and for endangering Glorfindel's health.

*****

The pain in his leg was a jagged edged agony that fed his anger without slowing his steps. He had left his crutch in his office, but at the moment he didn't need it. Elven grace and agility had been returned to him in a temporary miracle of fury that made no allowance for healing bones and shooting pain. That he would pay for this later was a given, but Erestor was fully prepared to accept the consequences.

Dawn's beauty was wasted on him as he covered the dew kissed distance between The Last Homely House and the barracks. At this hour he would normally still be dozing in bed, waiting for the sun to creep a little higher over the horizon before rising for breakfast. This day had been different because he'd known he'd need to get a head start on his work after a week's absence, and so he had roused himself even before Glorfindel had awakened. He had been the one to kiss his sleeping lover's smooth forehead this morning, had been the one to instigate morning love making which normally was not a part of their routine on days when Glorfindel went out with the dawn patrol. He had helped Glorfindel dress afterwards, had even allowed the warrior to comb and braid his dark locks, had gritted his teeth and responded civilly to the repeated questions concerning his health and readiness to resume his work. And then Glorfindel had left, and after eating a quick morning meal he'd gone directly to his office.

His papers had been out of order, misfiled, and in some cases completely misplaced. An entirely new category had been created, apparently for those bits of work that his replacement had been at a total loss as to what to do with. A half eaten glazed croissant lay on a plate on his desk, and there had been crumbs on his chair. His quill was sticky. Erestor had not needed to see Glorfindel's flat and sprawling handwriting on the various ill sorted notes and documents to know who was responsible for this.

Erestor hit the barracks's door stiff armed. A pair of young soldiers jumped in startlement, eyes wide and nervous as they took in the dark mien and purposeful stride of the Chief Advisor. He did not so much as glance their way or even slow his steps, and the two jumped hastily out of his way as he passed them.

He was not a frequent visitor in the barracks by any means, but he knew his way to Glorfindel's office. The door stood open, and the blonde warrior stood casually by his desk talking amiably to a female elf dressed similarly in green and gray. In the cold blaze of his anger, it seemed that Erestor could see everything with remarkable clarity – the plate of blueberry turn-overs on the corner of the chipped desk top, the haphazardly arranged stacks of paperwork, a jumble of armor on a battered corner table. Glorfindel's eyebrow quirked familiarly as the female laughed at something he'd said, and Erestor noted a dot of blueberry on the front of his green tunic.

"My office is resembling yours most remarkably this morning, my lord Glorfindel." He said calmly, eyes dark, hooded, threatening. Glorfindel turned towards him, the expression of pleasure on his face rapidly fading as he recognized the councilor's controlled fury. The female elf said something in greeting, bowed politely. Erestor did not return so much as an abbreviated nod, and her eyes darted between the two males in nervous curiosity.

"My lord councilor, perhaps we can discuss this after the patrol." Glorfindel glanced out the window, gauged the distance of the sun from the horizon. "Lessailen and I were just about to leave, and I believe this is a personal matter you wish to speak of."

"You can spare a few moments." Erestor said shortly. "And if you'd like to keep it a personal matter, perhaps you could ask Lessailen to inform the patrol that you will be behind schedule."

"Of course, my lord." Lessailen hurried out, and Glorfindel cast a frustrated, trapped look at her departing back. Turning back to Erestor he opened his mouth to speak, but the advisor cut him off before he had a chance to begin.

"What do you intend to leave me with, Glorfindel? Apparently even my work is not my own now. It's not enough for you that you can go through my rooms at will, that you can take me to yours as if I'm another bit of fanciful decoration to go with all the rest of your pretty rubbish? That you can have me at will, whether it's in my bed or yours, my office or anywhere else that strikes your fancy? Now you must have what little is left?"

Glorfindel stared at the irate elf in shock. "Erestor, I thought only to help you."

"Help me?" Erestor laughed sardonically. "Oh, yes, you are a fine one for helping me. ‘Tis a miracle I've survived all of these years without your help." He advanced menacingly on the blonde. "I am so everlastingly grateful to you, dearest Glorfindel, that I'll be spending my day repairing the disaster you've created. Did it never occur to you that Elrond could have handled the most pressing items, and that the rest might have been delegated to those who would have known what to do with it?"

Glorfindel could feel heat coloring his cheeks as his own temper rose to meet his lover's. "Would it pain you so much to simply accept that I tried to do something for you? Forgive me, Erestor, for trying to care for you! You make it damnably difficult."

"I don't need your care." Erestor hissed into his face, and Glorfindel's expression grew flat, cold, impenetrable.

"Fine, you neither need nor want me to care for you. I have no idea what we have been doing these past months, or why."

"I am not a possession of yours, Glorfindel, not something that you can simply take over."

"Of course. Not another piece of my pretty rubbish as you call it." He pushed past Erestor with impersonal firmness. "I have a patrol to lead."

Erestor's tongue flicked over his lips as he watched Glorfindel leave, square shouldered and graceful. The awareness of pain returned as he stared blankly at the empty doorway, and he sank onto the desk top, not caring in the least about the splinters that would snag in his robe's silk threads.

*****

It was not usual for him to close and lock his office door, but he had no desire for the twins' company this day. For the most part their endless chatter, enthusiasm and energy did not bother him. Erestor was accustomed to tuning them out, nodding agreeably along with whatever they were saying while listening with only half an ear. Having them underfoot could also be handy when he needed items brought to him or taken away, and the twins were always pleased to feel that they had helped him with his work. Dealing with Elladan and Elrohir's indefatigably bright dispositions was more than he felt he could stand as he reorganized his office, however, and he did not trust himself to be able to explain the situation calmly and appropriately. The locked door took care of that nicely.

He had lobbed the dead croissant out the window in a fit of temper that had surprised himself, not to mention anyone who might have been idling on the lawn. Glorfindel had never brought more than absolutely necessary items to his room, but he felt perfectly comfortable leaving half eaten snacks on his desk. Glorfindel prowled his chambers like a caged cat, poked through his wardrobe and dresser drawers, fingered the books on his shelves, examined the simple, tasteful objets d'art that adorned his rooms with perplexed curiosity. Erestor didn't mind that; in fact, he found it amusing, endearing, sometimes even arousing. Knowing that Glorfindel had also been through his desk, his files and his cabinets did not amuse him. It felt like a violation, an invasion, a last bastion besieged and conquered.

Even so, the expression of emotionlessness that Glorfindel had given him before leaving for patrol left him feeling sick, uneasy, frightened. They were feelings that mixed oddly with his anger and frustration, his outraged need to definitively assert himself, defend his territory. In his mind the argument raged on, more angry words rising to attack a voiceless version of Glorfindel, to attack the traitorous fear and grief that was trying to strangle his heart.

-This is your fault, Glorfindel. You could not be content to be my equal, no, you had to try to turn me into something I am not, to turn me into nothing at all. I will not, cannot, live with that, and if you cannot change for me then you will live without me. -

The feeling of triumph was strangely hollow, without emotional resonance. Erestor sighed harshly as he pulled a jumble of scrolls from a lower drawer and dumped them on the desk top. It did not matter. With stoic perseverance he began unrolling the parchments.

*****

"Erestor! Open the door!" Celebrian's voice was frantic. Erestor leaped from his chair and hurried to let her in. Her fist was raised to knock when he pulled the door open, and for a moment it looked as if the elf matron was poised to strike him. Erestor tried to usher her inside, but instead of letting him draw her within she clamped her hand on his elbow and tugged him into the hallway.

"There has been trouble on today's patrol. No one was killed, but Glorfindel was seriously injured. He's in the healing rooms, and he needs you."

"He asked for me?" Erestor's mind had gone blank. Once again he had forgotten his crutch, and he was not about to ask to return for it. Seeing him struggle to keep up with the pace she was setting, Celebrian encircled his waist with a surprisingly strong arm.

"No." She cast him a worried glance. "Glorfindel is unconscious, Erestor. He was struck by an arrow, a stomach shot. It was poisoned."

"Dear Elbereth." Erestor said, closing his eyes.

"Elrond is tending him, and all should be well. He said it is a blessing that Glorfindel is unaware."

"Indeed." Erestor said heavily, and Celebrian bit her lip.

"Still, there is something that is worrying him, and I was the closest available to bring you."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Your thanks are not needed, Erestor." Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she turned her gaze to the hall before them. "Were anything to happen to Elrond and no one came for me…" Her words trailed off. "I am so sorry, Erestor."

"All will be well, Celebrian. I have faith in Elrond's skill." Even as the words past his lips Erestor's heart was gripped by cold doubt. Of course Elrond would have sent for him, but would he have sent his wife if all were well? Would she be struggling to hold back tears?

*****

Part 12

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