Chapter 17 – Closure

It had been more than a week since that horrible day in the prison house, and Glorfindel was still in a healing sleep. Erestor stayed with him in the healing house while under the watchful eye of Lord Elrond. Today, Elrond stood with his sons, Elrohir and Elladan, watching the mighty elf lord sleep. Erestor sat in a chair opposite of them, next to the bed where he could keep a close eye on Glorfindel. It had been the first time the twin sons came to visit, and they looked worried.

"His injuries did not seem so serious that he should still be in a healing sleep," Elrohir commented.

"Glorfindel is healing from more than the stab wound," Erestor said somberly. "Some hurts are more difficult to heal, especially those that mark the soul."

"And what about you?" Elladan asked. Erestor was closer to Elladan than Elrohir, though both were his friends. They seemed to be closer personality wise, and it was easy to talk to each other.

"I'll not deny it's been a difficult time," Erestor replied as he reached for Glorfindel's hand. "But I think I will recover."

"Did the two of you make amends before all of this happened?" Lord Elrond asked.

"We only had a brief moment, but the few words we shared were enough. Glorfindel knows I will be here for him when he wakes. Perhaps that is why he is taking his time with this process." Erestor paused and laughed to himself. "Just like Fin to keep me waiting."

Elrond and the twins joined him in a quick laugh. Then, Elrond motioned for his sons to follow him out of the room and give Erestor time alone. Elladan gestured for them to go on, and that he wanted a moment with his very good friend.

"Don't be long, son," Elrond suggested.

"It's alright," Erestor said. "I could use the company." Elrond nodded, and he and Elrohir left the room.

Elladan cocked his head and gestured that he and Erestor go out on the veranda where they could talk without disturbing Glorfindel's sleep. Erestor nodded, and joined him for some fresh air. They stood at the railing, gazing out over the large herb garden in back of Elrond's healing house. It was an unusually beautiful day. Long had it been since the days did not seem dreary with the gloom of grey clouds. Lately, everything was clearer and fresher. Life all around the valley was flourishing at a rapid rate it seemed.

"We sent Lastar's things to his sister. She is his only family in Middle-earth. Their parents sailed years ago, and she lives in Lindon. I imagine she will sail soon, now that Lastar is … gone," Elladan informed him.

Erestor continued staring out over the garden as he contemplated the information. "Funny, he never mentioned any family. I never asked him either. I always thought I knew Lastar well. Perhaps I didn't know him as well as I thought."

Elladan observed Erestor for a moment. Then he covered the counselor's hand with his own. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Erestor smiled and nodded. "It is going to take some time, but this too shall pass." He thought about what Elladan had just said, and brought his attention to his friend. "You said Lastar's sister lives in Lindon?"

"Yes, near Harlond to be exact. Why?" Elladan wondered.

Erestor peered out over the landscape once more. "I think that I should like to visit her. It seems only right, since I was closest to Lastar. His family should know how much he accomplished."

"I think that is a good idea, if it will help you in any way. I know you are still grieving for him, but what of Glorfindel?" Elladan asked.

"I'll not leave before he awakens. I want mine to be the first face he sees when he opens his eyes."

"Will you tell him?" Elladan inquired.

"About going to Lindon?" Erestor said, playing dumb.

Elladan turned to him, crossing his arms. "You know of what I speak."

Since Elladan was Erestor's closest friend and confidant he told him about going to the waterfall and the night he'd spent with Lastar. Erestor needed to talk to someone about it, for it was a part of his own healing. Elladan had helped him realize that what happened, happened, that it could not be erased, and that he'd done nothing wrong. It had been an emotional time, and Erestor should not blame himself for any of the events that occurred that night.

Erestor looked down at a flower pedal that lay at his feet. There was a bouquet of roses on a nearby table, placed there when Glorfindel was first brought to the healing house. They were just beginning to wilt, and Erestor was surprised no one had replenished them yet. In the house of Lord Elrond, nothing ever wilted, or at least, nothing was seen fading. But the elves of Imladris had lived their lives in solitude for many centuries. They had control over anything within their hidden valley. Everything was alive and vibrant. Anything showing signs of deterioration was removed or concealed. Elrond's decision to allow Astarion into the city and hide him within the prison house was a good example of that. Now, the elves knew that it was no use to hide the withered things, for sometimes those things did not want to be kept secret. Avoiding the evil that thrived outside of their protected borders did not make them safe. If anything, it made them more vulnerable. Rivendell was a part of the world, and it had its part to play in the war, in the victory, and in the future of mankind. Elrond, more than anyone else, knew this, for his daughter would play a very important part in that future, and in return, she would become just as vulnerable as the vase of wilting roses.

Erestor, too, had avoided confrontations and conflicts for a very long time, but in recent days he had become open to moral attack, temptation, physical assault, and exposure from within. Yet, here he stood, still strong, still alive, still in love, but scarred. Scars were necessary, he decided. They were a reminded of how resilient he was, able to face the edge of an unforgivable cliff and eventually walk away from it with his pride still intact.

"Will I tell him about Lastar?" Erestor said, looking at the wrinkled pedal on the ground. "Well, if Glorfindel asks, then I shall not deny it. I will be honest, for that is all I ever expect in return."

Elladan smiled. "That is good."

Three more days passed and there had been no sign of Glorfindel waking from his healing sleep. His physical wounds were mostly healed except for scarring. The lacerations had closed up days ago. His breathing was normal, as was his heartbeat. There was really nothing keeping Glorfindel from waking, except for whatever his soul was healing from. Erestor knew how the ghosts of the mind could try to keep one trapped within oneself. He had had Elladan to help him break free. He wondered about Glorfindel, though, for it was him and him alone with his ghosts.

One of the maid servants had brought a bowl of water and a clean cloth, and sat it onto the side table. Erestor thanked her and watched her leave the room before he went to Glorfindel. It became is duty to make sure the elf lord received some kind of nourishment. Water sweetened with nectar was the best thing for him while he slept. Erestor dipped the cloth into the bowl of water, letting it soak up the sweet liquid, and then he would squeeze it onto Glorfindel's lips. He would do this every few hours, making sure Fin got as much of the fortified drink into his system as was possible with an unconscious patient.

Erestor tucked the long gilded hair behind Glorfindel's perfect ear. "Will you wake for me yet, my warrior? It has been days, weeks almost. Come back to me, Glorfindel. I miss you desperately."

There was nothing, no movement, not even an eye flutter. He began to worry, afraid that something unseen had a hold of him. But that was not possible, was it? The Nazgûl had been destroyed, or so he had been told. He kissed Glorfindel's forehead and sat back in his chair. "Shall I tell you I am sorry for not always being there for you? It is a lesson I have recently learned, that no matter what happens, I should be available to you, even when you push me away. I didn't understand that before, and I abandoned you. Maybe none of this would have happened if I'd only believed in you … believed in our love. But I was selfish. I didn't understand that as much as I needed you all to myself, I couldn't have you in that way. Others will need you from time to time, and I must let you go. I wish you were awake so you could hear me."

"Erestor?" Glorfindel said in a raspy whisper.

Erestor stood from his chair and went to the bed as quickly as his feet would carry him. "I am here." He took Glorfindel's hand, finding his grip to be quite weak. "Wake for me. Come on, awake."

"Give me a moment," Glorfindel said, squeezing his eyes tight against the light filtering in through the sheer curtains. "Where are we?"

"We are at home, in the healing house," Erestor answered him, petting the side of his face and cupping his ear. "You are safe, but you have been asleep for more than a week. I was beginning to worry."

"Have I been here this whole time?"

"Of course," Erestor answered, confused. "You'd been injured, stabbed and cut. Lord Elrond has taken special care to see that you healed. You should have awakened days ago."

"I was in a field of downy white dandelion heads. The sun was warm and bright, and when the wind blew, it scattered the pappus so that it looked like snow flurries."

"Where was this?" Erestor asked.

"I … I was home. I was in Gondolin. This field was from my childhood. My mother would take me there and let me run and run until I couldn't catch my breath. It was so peaceful there. I didn't want to leave."

"It was merely a dream," Erestor informed.

"It was more than a dream. I was really there in the place of my birth." Glorfindel fluttered his eyes, adjusting to the light, and when he could see he looked up into Erestor's face. "Did I … die?"

"No, not that I know of, and I have been at your side every minute of every day. I would have noticed if you stopped breathing."

"Then, they must have recreated this place so that I was somewhere familiar in a time that brought me never ending joy." Glorfindel said.

"Who are 'they'?" Erestor wondered.

"Why, the Valar, who else?" Glorfindel answered nonchalantly.

"The Valar?"

"Well, namely Nienna. She spoke to me about my life in Gondolin, and of the good deeds I did for the people there. It was she who was responsible for my re-embodiment. She said she was there when I entered the Halls of Waiting, and convinced her brother, Mandos, to send me back. I asked her why, and she said that anyone who could act with such selflessness as to cast himself upon certain death should not know such guilt and mourning. She asked her brother to send me back so that I could see what became of my actions. He was reluctant, but eventually he allowed it under the condition that I must heal from my grief without any help from her. Nienna argued that it was a cruel thing to do, but seeing that her brother would not be swayed, she agreed."

"That must be the reason they did not answer you," Erestor said. Glorfindel cocked his head questioningly, and Erestor explained. "You told me once, when you came back, that you were in such despair, you called upon the Valar for answers, but they remained silent."

"You remember that?"

Erestor smiled. "I remember everything you ever told me."

"You are right. Nienna swore not to interfere, and therefore she could do nothing to take away my sadness. Instead, I thought they abandoned me, and for a very long time, I despised them. I was a soldier, and without orders, without an agendum, I easily went off course. But I went on, and thanks to Olórin and the Maiar, I began to remember again. I made up my mind that the Valar intentionally sent me back to accomplish some mission, and figuring out that mystery was part of it."

"So, you finally found out that your mission was to free Astarion as you could not do before you fell," Erestor said, thinking he knew the answer to the riddle.

"I thought that too, but Nienna said there was never a mission. All these thousands of years of waiting and wondering, and there was no mission. It was me all along. My self-pity, my thoughts of being unworthy, my guilt over things that were out of my control, these were the things I had to learn the truth about, for Nienna said my feelings were so strong, she felt she could not carry them into her province. She is the Queen of grief and mourning, and she weeps for the suffering of Arda, but mine was almost a match to her own, and it was too much to bear. Instead, my return to earth became a lesson in pity and endurance through grief."

"And what did Nienna say? Did you pass your test?" Erestor asked.

"She said, I surpassed her teachings, and–" Glorfindel paused and closed his eyes.

Erestor waited for him to continue, but he remained silent. "And what, Glorfindel?"

"And . . ." he sighed deeply. "And I can return home."

Erestor thought by home, he meant Rivendell, but the faraway look in his eyes said differently. Glorfindel saw the hope on Erestor's face and continued. "Not this home. Valinor. She said I could come back to the Blessed Realm, my real home."

Erestor's breath caught in his throat. Glorfindel was saying that he would sail and his heart, which was only minimally healed, began to break again. But he put up his wall of defense and pretended that it did not affect him. "Well, you know what they say. Once an elf hears the call, he becomes restless and longs for the sea. You should not ignore it, especially after your encounter with Nienna."

Glorfindel sat up, anchoring himself with his elbows, and gave Erestor a stern look. "Are you sending me away?"

"No, but you just said you were ready to sail."

"That is not what I said," Glorfindel replied, irritated. "Were you not listening to me? It was Nienna who said I may return."

"And I can hear it in your voice, Glorfindel. You want to go and I'll not stop you, but I cannot go with you, if that is what you are asking."

"I am not asking you to go. For Eru's sake, Erestor, why must you always jump to conclusions? I don't want to go either."

"You don't?"

"No," Glorfindel said. "I don't want to go anywhere without you, and I know you are not ready to sail." He laid back down in the bed and watched the shadows dancing on the ceiling. There must have been a breeze moving the tree limbs, he thought, and longed to stand in the wind to let it blow through his long unbound hair. Glorfindel sighed, knowing Lord Elrond would not allow him out of the healing house, let alone out of bed, for a few days yet. Perhaps the weather would stay as it was and wait for him. He blinked slowly and turned his eyes towards Erestor. "We have to stop doing this."

"Doing what?" Erestor asked dryly.

"We always assume what the other one is thinking, and when we speak, we only hear what our thoughts have predetermined."

Erestor smiled down at him. "Some habits are hard to break." He bent down, and his hand cupped the elf lord's face. "The fact is, we know each other too well. I listened to you, and I know what you spoke aloud, but I read your face and know your true thoughts. Your eyes speak for your soul, Glorfindel, and I saw something there. Tell me you did not consider sailing and I'll say I am wrong about this."

Glorfindel closed his eyes, feeling vulnerable under Erestor's gaze, but it was too late. Erestor was right and Fin nodded before he spoke. "I … did. I'm sorry, but it crossed my mind the entire length of Nienna's visit. Her eyes were mournful, but her voice was full of peace as she said the name of the Blessed Realm, and I found myself longing to go back." He reached out and took Erestor's hand, looking deep within the counselor's hazel eyes. "I could not sail without you, least death take you first. I am bound to you, Erestor, and though our trust and our faith in each other has been put to the most extreme tests, I have always felt assured of our bond."

Hard as he tried, Erestor could not hide the flash of guilt in his eyes, and Glorfindel saw it before he could blink it away. "Do you not feel the same?"

"Of course I do," Erestor answered quickly and with a bit more defensiveness than he would have liked.

"Then what is this?" Glorfindel asked as his hand came up and touched the side of Erestor's face.

Erestor took his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the roughened knuckles. The counselor knew what had escaped the wall he'd built, sparing Glorfindel from knowing about anything that happened during their separation. He swore he would tell Fin if he asked, but he was not asking anything specific at the moment. Instead, he decided to tell the elf lord about Lastar's sister.

"I found something that belonged to Lastar within my office. It is a journal, filled with poems and short stories that he must have written over the years. I suppose he forgot about it when he removed his things from my office. Elladan said his other belongings have already been sent to his sister in Lindon. I think it is only right that she have this too, for one's writings are a part of their soul, and she is his only family. I am going there to deliver it in person, and visit Lastar's sister. I feel I need to meet her, and share his accomplishments with her. Call it closure, it's just something I have to do."

Glorfindel nodded in compliance. "Alright, but give me a day or two and I'll go with you."

"I think I need to do this alone, Fin. And besides, you will not be ready to go anywhere for a while. Lord Elrond has given strict instructions that once you wake, you are not to–"

"Lord Elrond over-exaggerates things," Glorfindel interrupted. "I just need to get up, get my legs moving, breathe in the fresh air, and I'll be good as new."

"No, what you need to do is stay here, recover completely, and let Lord Elrond fill you in on all that has happened since you were asleep."

"What do mean?"

Erestor smiled down at his lover. "The war is over. Sauron has been destroyed along with the Nazgûl and most of his armies. You'll remember the Hobbit, Frodo?" Glorfindel nodded and Erestor continued. "He finished his quest and destroyed the Ring. As a matter of fact, he is here, in Rivendell, in the other wing of the healing house. Gandalf brought him here so that he could recover under the watchful eye of Lord Elrond. He's been quite busy lately, dividing his time between you and the Hobbit, and a bit stretched. I'd not confront him if I were you," Erestor chortled.

Glorfindel sat up on his elbows again, a look of disbelief on his countenance. "The war? It's over?"

"There is nothing left of Mordor. Everything collapsed and was swallowed by the earth. The Nazgûl, who were patrolling their wretched land at the time, were said to have been taken down by flaming boulders spit out of the mouth of Mount Doom as it exploded."

"And the Witch-king?" Fin asked.

"Ah, now that is an interesting story. He's dead, of course. Well, I suppose he was already dead, but you know what I mean. And you were right." Erestor said proudly.

"Right about what?"

"Not by the hand of man was he slain. Your prophesy, Glorfindel. Not Man, nor elf or dwarf could bring him down. It was a woman, the niece of the King of Rohan, to be precise. Lady Eowyn met her foe in battle on the field of Pelennor, where she thrust her sword into his empty helm. I'm told that there was nothing left but the black cloak and armor that he wore."

Glorfindel was stunned. He'd never imagined that it would be a woman who finally destroyed the ancient King of Angmar. "They're all gone? They're all destroyed … the Nazgûl?"

"They'll never harm us again, my love. We are free of their black thoughts."

"When did this happen?" Glorfindel asked, sitting up fully and wincing from the lack of muscle use.

Erestor was reluctant to tell him, for the timing could have a great impact upon him. But it was too late. Glorfindel already read the hesitation in Erestor's eyes. "Tell me," the elf lord demanded.

"It had already begun the day we were at the prison house. First, Minas Tirith was attacked. Men from Rohan gathered and fought upon Pelennor Field. When the battle was over, a group of soldiers, led by Aragorn, marched to the Black Gates and confronted Sauron. By then, Frodo must have been close to his final destination. The confrontation was a diversion to allow the Hobbit passageway without being noticed."

The crease between Glorfindel's eyes deepened as he thought back to that day at the prison house. "I knew I'd felt a shift when Astarion broke free of the Nazgûl's control. Something preoccupied them, leaving Astarion unguarded. If what you say is true, they might never have returned to take possession of him again. He might have been free, and I … I–"

"Now, don't start to think like that," Erestor said with a stern tongue. Then to himself he added, "I knew I should not have mentioned this yet."

"But if the Nazgûl were destroyed then perhaps Astarion could have been saved and–"

"You could not have known that. Astarion could not have known that either. Listen to me, Glorfindel, you did what he wanted you to do. You gave him freedom, and there could have been no other way. Even with the Nazgûl destroyed, he could never have lived a free life. I know this to be the truth." Erestor sat on the edge of the bed and spoke over his shoulder. "I know now that no one else could have released Astarion but you. It just had to be that way. I wish I could have taken the burden for you. Believe me, I hate to think of how it will affect you, but this was yours to do alone."

"Ai, I know that too. I had only hoped that I could give him a second chance."

"You did that already," Erestor spoke softly.

"Astarion told me the same thing, and what's done is done." Glorfindel stretched back out on his bed, and his hand came to rest on Erestor's thigh. "What about you, Erestor? Are you free of that abomination or has the Witch-king left a scar upon your soul also?"

Erestor moved to face Glorfindel, and leaned towards him until they were face to face. "You have set Astarion free with your blade, but you have given me peace with your love. I don't think I shall ever be haunted by dark thoughts again."

Glorfindel searched Erestor's eyes and cupped the back of his head, drawing him in for a kiss. Before their lips touched, Glorfindel smiled and it reminded Erestor of how irresistible the elf lord could be.

"Mine," Glorfindel whispered.

"Always," Erestor answered.

The journey to Lindon was long but uneventful. Erestor was glad to finally be back in civilization, after spending many nights on the road or dodging bedbugs in run down inns along the way. Harlond was an elf-haven, and the southern harbor of the Grey Havens. Some of the elves made Harlond their home, while waiting for a ship to carry them to the Blessed Realm, or just to be closer to the sea as they awaited their calling to sail. The fact that Lastar's sister lived here meant that she must be readying herself for the last journey of the elves, and Erestor wondered what kept her here, since their parents had sailed some years before.

She lived on the top floor of a beautiful seaside apartment, which overlooked the magnificent Gulf of Lhún. He might have envied her accommodations, had he not preferred the rich green valley of Imladris instead. Still, he could imagine him and Glorfindel living in a place like this, but only when their time had come to sail into the west.

Erestor had sent correspondence, therefore, Naina was expecting the counselor, and she welcomed him with open arms when he finally arrived. She shared some of the same physical traits with her brother, mainly their long silky black hair and the roundness of their eyes. She was a very lovely elleth, and Erestor wondered why she never married.

As Naina showed him her home, Erestor noticed a stack of small crates in the corner of one room. Naina saw this and smiled. "There is no point in unpacking any of it since I will be leaving soon. Please tell Lord Elrond that I am very thankful to have Lastar's things. My parents will be glad to have a part of him, too."

"Well, that kind of leads me to the reason for my visit. I found something of Lastar's in my office, something that was overlooked by the time his things had been sent here." Erestor pulled the small book from his robes. It was bound in rich brown leather with a golden inlayed vining pattern on the cover. He handed it to her and explained. "It is filled with poems and stories that he wrote, the beautifully written work of an accomplished scribe. Lastar was talented, a quick learner, and very good at his job. I was proud to have him as my apprentice."

Naina thumbed through the book quickly, smiling as she caught a sentence here and there. "Memories of our childhood. He was such a happy elfling, and so very motivated. Nothing would stop Lastar once he set his mind to it."

"He certainly was," Erestor said, remembering some of their times together.

Naina led him to her sitting room, where she had prepared a lovely fruit and flower tea. They settled into their seats and spoke fondly of Lastar. "I remember how excited I was for him when he wrote me about becoming your apprentice. He'd said he would learn from the best, and in Lastar's eyes there was no one else but the Master of Imladris' Libraries."

Erestor sipped his tea and set the cup on the wide arm of his chair, which doubled as a small side table. The chair was covered in a beautiful pale pink jacquard design, and matched the one Naina sat in. The apartment was decorated in simple hues of pink and flesh tones. There were not a lot of mementos displayed, probably because she must be ready to leave whenever the next ship was announced to arrive.

"Having Lastar to come work for me was always such a joy," Erestor smiled.

Naina held the book in her lap, and as they continued casual conversation, she skimmed through the pages, as though she was looking for something in particular. She stopped at one page and covered it with her hand, closing her eyes as she did. "Erestor, did you know much about Lastar's life outside of the library?"

The question was a little off-putting, but he smiled as he answered. "Perhaps a little. Why do you ask?"

She opened her eyes, but kept them turned down on the book. "In his letters, he spoke regularly about his work and his accomplishments. He also spoke of someone he said he'd fallen for, but he did not know if the other person returned the same feelings."

Erestor felt his insides shrivel. Did Naina know this other person Lastar spoke of was him? He regained internal control before it showed outwards through his facial expressions. "I had known Lastar to accompany an ellon or two for dinner and an evening of musical entertainment." She shifted in her chair at the mention of this and Erestor wondered if he'd already said too much. "Oh, you … did know of your brother's preferences, didn't you?"

Naina gave a genuine smile. "Yes, of course. It was never a secret. Lastar lived life to its fullest. He would never hide something like that. Which is why I am confused about this ellon he held such admiration for. He never gave me a name, but he told me how his feelings grew quickly. I worried for him. It is not easy to love someone who does not return the same feelings. Over the past few months, he seemed to become almost obsessed. In my last letter, I asked him to reconsider sailing with me, you know, to save his heart from being broken. I didn't know if this was someone he had already had a relationship with or not, and I feared for his fading, if things became too serious. In his last letter to me, he said there was one thing he had left to do, and if it did not work out, then he would join me on the next ship. I think he meant to finally confront this elf and open his heart to him. And if he was refused, then he was going to come to Lindon, and we would sail together."

"Is that why you have not left yet?" Erestor asked, feeling rather uncomfortable.

"I would have left a while ago if it weren't for Lastar. I know he was young and still hadn't heard the calling, but I didn't want to leave without him, and he not knowing what his future held. He was so madly in love, and if this person turned him away, then I knew I must be there for my brother."

Knowing all of this made Erestor's heart sink. He'd no idea that Lastar might have told someone else about his infatuation. As far as Erestor knew, only Lastar, Glorfindel and himself knew of it. Why hadn't he ever thought that Lastar might have said something to his family? Then again, it didn't seem like the kind of thing one mentioned. And what should he do now? Naina was asking for any additional information Erestor might have that would put her mind to rest, and here he was, the elf in question. He couldn't lie to her, yet he could not admit that he was the one Lastar spoke of. He took a deep breath and started the delicate conversation.

"I did know Lastar had feeling for someone, and to protect the other party, I will not mention any names. But I will tell you this. He loved Lastar as a friend, and Lastar knew this. He would have laid down his life for you brother. He would have helped him in any way possible, and sometimes he did. They were friends foremost, and neither one wanted to do anything that would destroy that close relationship. But, your brother did not deserve him, for he could not return the deep feelings Lastar held for him. This ellon's heart was already spoken for, and we both know nothing can change something like that. In the end, Lastar still managed to steal a small part of the other elf's heart, and he mourns the loss of a good friend. Lastar was loved, you can be assured of this. He is greatly missed, and he will never be forgotten. In the end, I believe he was happy, and I am sure that his soul rests peacefully within the Halls of Waiting."

"You were with him when he passed, weren't you? That is what I was told anyways," Naina said, the conversation remaining a difficult one.

"I … was," answered Erestor, his mouth suddenly dry.

Naina sat in silence for a long while. Then, she closed the book and let her finger travel over the gilded design, as though pondering something. Finally, she handed the book to Erestor. He cocked his head with a lack of understanding, but she just smiled and nodded.

"Take this with you back to Rivendell, and give it to him. He should have something of Lastar's to remind him of my brother, something solid, not just memories. Tell him to carefully read the last poem. I think he will see himself in the words." Naina leaned forward in her chair and reached out to take Erestor's hands. He mirrored her actions and she grasped his fingers. "I am sorry if you came all this way for nothing."

Erestor smiled and squeezed her hands. "It was not for nothing, Naina. I am very glad to have met you. I can't help feeling a little closer to Lastar by meeting you."

They had spent most of the day in each other's company, Naina telling Erestor stories about Lastar in his youth, and Erestor telling her about Lastar's time as his apprentice. Eventually, the light began to fade as the sun began to set. Neither one realized how late it had become. She offered to make him a light supper and put him in the spare bedroom to sleep for the night, but Erestor refused, saying that he'd already made arrangements elsewhere. When it was time to leave, Erestor made his farewells, knowing he would not see her again. Naina walked him to the door, and thanked him once more for all that he'd done. Erestor nodded, took her hand and kissed her knuckles. He opened the door and proceeded to leave when she stopped him.

"Erestor," she called.

"Yes?"

"He would have deserved you, had it been any different."

Erestor was motionless as her words sunk in. How had she figured out it was him? Had she always known? Should he explain himself?

"I knew my brother well, and you are exactly the kind of soul he always wished for. If nothing else, I am glad you had your friendship."

At a loss for words, Erestor bowed low, taking his time to stand straight. "Thank you." It was all he knew to say, and it had been enough. Erestor finally had his closure, and he knew he could comfortably keep a small part of Lastar within his heart.

It had been a while since then. Glorfindel and Erestor mended their wounds, both physically and mentally. Most of their healing came from just being together again. It hadn't been easy, and it was a long time before they were able to get back to the way they used to be. They were finally comfortable in each other's company, as well as in their own skin. The nightmares lessened, and the ghosts slowly faded. Not all of the memories had gone, but the ones that remained were good, and they could talk about it more freely than before.

Erestor still had his large home with the veranda overlooking the valley, and Glorfindel still had his smaller apartment down by the training grounds, but Fin spent most of his time at Erestor's home. That hadn't changed, and Erestor would have it no other way.

The morning came upon Erestor quickly, it seemed, or perhaps it was because he and Glorfindel had been up most of the night, reconnecting through their bond. These were the best of times, Erestor thought to himself, and he hoped it would never end. He also hoped to find Glorfindel's warm body next to his as he awoke, but that half of the bed was empty. His ears perked up and he heard the light scratching of charcoal on parchment.

"Are you sketching my arse again?" Erestor called from the bed.

"No," Glorfindel answered, the sounds of someone drawing never breaking pace. "Something much better."

"That better not mean what I think it does," Erestor berated.

Glorfindel gave an airy laugh through his nose. "Relax, Counselor, I'll be the only one seeing your cock, and no matter how beautiful of a thing it is, I would not share that knowledge with the world. Now just lie still and let me finish."

Erestor laughed naughtily. "I seem to remember you saying that same exact thing last night."

"You are a beast today, aren't you?"

"Why don't you come over here and tame me then," said Erestor, surprising Glorfindel.

"You keep talking like that, and I just might. Now stop moving. I'm almost done."

Erestor did as he was told, and stayed in bed, laying on his stomach with his head turned towards Glorfindel. He loved to watch his gilded lover when he was deep in concentration. Glorfindel's brows creased together and his lips pouted when he was focused. It made his jaw jet forward, the lines becoming straight and chiseled. His cheeks sucked in slightly and his high cheek bones became more prominent. He was absolutely irresistible in this form, and Erestor was already plotting how to get Fin back into his bed.

"Don't you think it is time that one of us made the decision to give up his home and move in with the other?" Glorfindel asked out of thin air.

"And that 'one'," Erestor said emphasizing the word, "would definitely have to be you."

"And what is wrong with my home?" Glorfindel said offended.

"Surely you can't expect me to give this up," Erestor protested. "It has one of the best views on this side of the city."

"We'll save this discussion for another day," Glorfindel said, sounding defeated. He stood, picking up the sketch, and came back to the bed. Then he threw himself onto the empty side. "Keep your eyes closed."

Erestor did as he was told, and rolled onto his back.

"No peeking," Glorfindel warned.

Erestor sat up on his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut. "I swear, if this is some vulgar drawing of me–"

"It's not, trust me. Now, open."

Erestor opened his eyes and was utterly amazed by the picture he saw. It was a portrait of him gazing over the distance, looking perplexed while his eyes shined with desire for something unattainable, but hopeful at the same time. His lips were parted slightly, as though his breath had caught. He seemed caught off guard by something. It was such a solid moment in time that Erestor wondered how and when Glorfindel had ever seen him like this.

"It's absolutely amazing, Glorfindel," he said enthusiastically. "But how did you do it?" In the past, Glorfindel always used Erestor as a model, sleeping or working at his desk, times when the counselor would be in one position long enough for Glorfindel to make a sketch.

Glorfindel leaned to him and kissed his cheek. "It is burned into my memory. This was how you looked at me the very first time our eyes connected, before we ever spoke to each other, before we officially met. Do you remember?"

"I remember well," Erestor smiled. "You had just returned to Rivendell after a very long absence. The elves all crowded around the courtyard to welcome their mighty elf lord back home." He stopped and huffed a laugh. "Not but a few maidens swooned that day, or ellyn for that matter."

"Not you, of course," Glorfindel noted.

"I was no maiden," Erestor jested.

"You stood away from the crowd, at the top of the stairs that led to the libraries. You seemed to not want to be bothered by the gaiety of the moment, as if the whole affair was outright ridiculous."

"I never was one for such celebrations," Erestor admitted. "Too much to do and all."

"But you stayed anyways," Glorfindel said.

"Well, anyone with a pulse could not help but watch the golden elf lord of Gondolin come back to the place he called home. You shined like the brightest star in the night sky, with your long flowing gilded waves whipping in the wind, sitting upon your snowy white steed, and Maicaril glittering at your side as though it had never been soiled by blood. You were beauty and strength, confident to the point of arrogance."

"Is that what you thought of me?" Glorfindel injected.

"I thought you needed a lesson in modesty," Erestor smiled slyly. "But I know now that was not the real you who rode in that day. You put on your game face disturbingly easy."

"But never for you, Meldanya," Glorfindel needed to add.

"I know that now. I know it very well," Erestor answered to ease his mind. He returned the kiss, but deepened it with more need.

Glorfindel let the paper fall from his hand, as he pushed Erestor easily into the pillows. He untied the satin belt and let his rob fall from his shoulders. Then he moved his body to cover Erestor. He looked far beyond the depths of Erestor's eyes, to the very soul that was entrusted to him for safe keeping.

"Mine," Glorfindel whispered.

Erestor couldn't help notice how differently he said this now than before. Fin used to say it with possession, but now he sounded as if he needed permission. Things had definitely changed between them. Their relationship was never so solid. They'd been tested time and time again, and each challenged resulted with a stronger bond between them. Nothing, not the past, not the future, could tear them apart. Erestor buried his guilt so deep, as to never recall it again. Besides, Lastar was gone. There was no reason to ever have to tell Glorfindel what happened that night behind the waterfall. Whatever else was thrown at them, they would make it through together. Erestor belonged solely to Glorfindel, and Fin to him … equally. Soldier and scribe. Warrior and counselor. They were inseparable. Their love was their strength.

Erestor smiled up into the beautiful face before him, and relished in the feel of their flesh as they joined. The bond had been made a long time ago, but each time felt like the first. This time though, it felt complete. It was comfort. It was home. It was . . .

"Mine," Erestor finally answered in return, taking possession of his glorious lover.

"Always," Glorfindel answered. "And for all eternity."

**The End**