Greenleaf&Imladris 11-In the Silence of Our Hearts

Part III

Arwen gasped at the conclusion of the tale. “Glorfindel, he was trying to mend matters with you this morn!” she exclaimed.



Glorfindel sighed and nodded. “And I wrecked the opportunity with my stupidity and all too rash tongue. How I was ever adjudged intelligent enough to be your teacher is beyond my ability to fathom.”



“Nay, you were not thinking straight,” Elladan said soothingly.



“Cold comfort,” the golden captain said morosely. “If Erestor had been about to forgive me, I certainly ruined my chances of gaining it today. I now fear he never shall.”



“But I don’t think that was Erestor’s intent,” Elrohir murmured. “More likely he was warm with you because he believed he’d finally won your approval.”



“My what?” Glorfindel’s face was a picture of pure confusion.



“Really, Glorfindel, you will make me doubt your intelligence as well,” Elrohir remarked. “If Erestor has been reserved with you all these centuries, ‘tis not because he felt you had wronged him but because he thought himself beneath you.”



“Elrohir is right,” Legolas agreed. “You made him think he was unworthy of your affections. ‘Not up to your exacting standards,’ as you said.”



Glorfindel sat back and groaned. “Ai, I should have cut off my tongue rather than ever uttered those accursed words!”



“But why have you never told him the truth?” Arwen inquired with a frown.



“I wanted to,” Glorfindel said. “I had planned to when he reached his majority. But he was so changed, so unwilling to speak of the incident that I finally gave up trying to broach it. I thought he had ceased to care for me in that manner. He certainly took enough lovers to persuade me that his feelings for me were long over.” He could not quite prevent the catch in his voice as he uttered these last words. “I could hardly force the subject upon him when he seemed so disinclined to even remember it.”



“But he does remember it,” Legolas commented. “And with no diminishment in his feelings about what occurred.”



“And therefore still bears the pain of it even after all these years,” Elrohir finished.



“As you bear the pain,” Arwen softly said. “Don’t you?” At the startled reaction of the fair Elda, she hesitantly reached out her hand and ran one graceful finger along the delicate gold chain that barely peeked out from under his collar. “May I?”



At the captain’s wordless nod, she drew out the chain. At its base hung a pendant. A polished stone of green and grey mounted in a fragile ring of gold. The young Elves gazed at it in wonder. Here was the evidence of Glorfindel’s well-hidden secret. His abiding love for the Elf who had offered this simple yet priceless treasure to him.



“Tell him the truth,” Arwen urged him.



“To what end?” he said wearily. “If he no longer cares, it will not matter if he knows the truth or not.”



“For his sake then if not your own,” Elladan counseled. “For his sense of worth. Would you have him continue believing that he was not good enough for you?”



Glorfindel caught his breath then shook his head. “You are right,” he quietly conceded. “I should have told him no matter the consequences.” He rose from his seat, prompting the others to rise as well. “I suppose ‘tis absurd to postpone this any longer.”



Elrohir placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder. “It will be all right, Glorfindel,” he softly said.



The Elda smiled wanly. “Such optimism,” he murmured, concealing the pendant once more. “I fear it will not be that simple, Elf-knight. I will go to him but I feel no confidence that the outcome will be pleasant for either of us.”



“Yet you already have the advantage of knowing he did love you and mayhap still does,” Elrohir pointed out. “Most beings must contend with the uncertainty of their loved ones’ regard or wither from unreturned passion. ‘Twould be a pity to waste this opportunity, Glorfindel. Not everyone gets a second chance, be it in life or in love.”



Glorfindel stared at Elrohir in surprise. He could not quite put his finger on it but he had the oddest feeling the younger twin was speaking from experience. He caught the surreptitious glances Elladan and Arwen darted at their brother and knew his suspicion for truth. Only Legolas seemed oblivious of the nuances of Elrohir’s words, which was strange considering how close the two were. It seemed the Elf-knight had not confided this matter in his friend, which meant he was not yet entirely certain of his feelings at present. But who...?



He chided himself. He had no business prying into Elrohir’s affairs if the latter was inclined to keep them to himself. And he had to admit, the twin’s counsel was not only sound but also sage. With a nod to the four younger Elves, he turned and headed for the library of Rivendell. Erestor’s refuge.

********

As he surmised, he found Erestor in the library, already busy on the report he’d promised Elrond. The steward looked up as he entered, his countenance as cool and collected as ever.



“I trust we can finish this report?” he said evenly. “Elrond will be expecting it.”



Glorfindel shook his head. “I did not come here because of that,” he said. “I came to speak with you.”



“About what?”



“There is something I need to tell you,” Glorfindel hesitantly said. “Something I should have told you long ago.”



“Which is?” Erestor prompted.



“That I did not mean what I said when I turned you away all those years ago.”



For a moment, Erestor stared at him, surprise swiftly overtaking his earlier equanimity. And then, like a storm descending upon the valley, anger suddenly darkened his eyes.



“Do not feed me falsehoods, Glorfindel!” Erestor retorted. “I have not forgotten your scorn. You can hardly expect me to believe you.



“I know but ‘tis the truth nevertheless.”



“If ‘tis the truth then why did you turn me away?”



“To discourage you from pursuing me,” the warrior explained. “You were so young and in my care. To take you to my bed would have been a serious betrayal of my charge.”



At this, Erestor forgot his usual equanimity and vented his long-suppressed frustration.



“So you destroyed my joy?” he said incredulously. “Took away my hope? Made me believe I was so beneath you as not to merit even your lust? You did that to me, you whom I trusted more than anyone else?”



Glorfindel bore the verbal assault unprotestingly though his face paled under its fury. He waited meekly for the tirade to abate. And when it ended he kept his voice low and humble.



“I am truly sorry,” he softly offered.



“Why are telling me this now?”



“Because you deserve to know. Because I would not have you continue believing that I...” Glorfindel paused then swallowed hard before saying, “...do not want you.”



The steward was stricken dumb for a few painful minutes. When he finally found his tongue, he could only say: “Why did you not tell me this when I returned? Why did you allow me to continue in the belief that I was so unworthy of your regard?”



“I longed to tell you. But by then you were so distant from me, I thought you no longer cared.” Glorfindel paused as the memory of heartache recalled itself to him. “And your attention had turned elsewhere,” he haltingly added.



“It was forced elsewhere!” Erestor snarled. “You virtually ordered me to stay away from you.”



“And I have suffered for that ever since.”



“Suffered? What do you know of such pain?’



“More than you can possibly imagine.”



“I find that difficult to believe!” Erestor hissed. “From what could you have suffered?”



“From unrelenting regret and jealousy.” Erestor was rendered wordless anew. Glorfindel did not give him time to speak but pressed on. “I was moved by what you sought to give me. You came to me untouched, unspoiled. No greater gift had I ever been offered then or since.”



“Yet you turned my gift away!”



“I did not think of the consequences of my haste. I did not realize I would have to endure watching others take what I had so rashly refused. Your innocence, your passion, your love.” When Erestor stared at him speechless with surprise, he continued. “It has been a torment pretending not to care when in truth I was wracked with envy, shaken by fury that others could have what I had practically forbidden myself.”



Still Erestor did not speak. The stormy eyes were narrowed with incredulity. The disbelief, the patent distrust broke Glorfindel’s heart.



“Have you nothing to say?” he softly asked.



“What is there to say? You would have me believe that you suffered as much as I.”



“Nay, I would say that I suffered even more. Your torment was not of your own making. I have no such consolation. I must live with the pain of being skewered on the lance of my own folly.”



“Indeed,” Erestor said, his voice dripping with scorn. “And what would you have me do now, Noldo?”



He uttered the name as if it were an imprecation. Glorfindel felt his heart shatter into countless shards of pain.



“Nothing,” he whispered, defeat in his voice. “I only wanted you to know the truth. I do not desire to continue hiding what I really feel.”



With that he departed from the library, his golden head bowed. Erestor stared after him, breathing hard.



To be continued…