The Long Journey Home

Title: The Long Journey Home
Author: silmfan (trueself101@yahoo.com)
Beta reader: ealhswithofskye (Thank you!)
Rating: PG so far
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warning: m/m slash
Setting: Near the beginning of the Third Age, before the War of the Ring and when Elrond’s sons are still young elflings. Slightly AU (?)
Disclaimer: Obviously, these Elves do not belong to me.
Notes: There’s no absolute certainty that I will complete this…it looks like it might turn out to be a long series. It depends on how much time I have (which is not a lot to begin with). I also have a tendency to leave stories unfinished when my imagination well runs dry. But, here goes.

My thanks to those that read and reviewed. It feels good to know that people acknowledge my existence. :o)

Thank you for the emails! You know who you are.

Again, reviews are appreed. ed.


Chapter 5: Trying To Understand


Glorfindel sat directly in front of Elrond, spreading out several sheets of parchment, outlining his lesson plans. They had given him quite a headache last night and Glorfindel hoped to Elbereth that Elrond would give his approval and save his Chief of Defense from even thinking about reorganizations. After spending ent entire morning hectically fixing defense roster problems and mix-ups, Glorfindel was in no mood for any more written alterations.

“Ah, your lesson plans…” Elrond shuffled through them, noting the schedule times printed on the corners. He’ll have to double-check whether Glorfindel’s defense duties would interfere or not.

“Warfare tactics and strategies, topography, and swordsmanship. Am I to teach anything more?” Glorfindel murmured. Elrond smiled.

“No. These lesson plans are excellent. I have to say that elflings are not so common now, but those that are here will grow to be very knowledgeable elves under your tutelage…and Erestor’s, of course.”

Glorfindel tilted his head to one side as he realized he knew next to nothing about Erestor’s tutoring skills.

“What does Erestor teach?”

Elrond chuckled as he handed the lesson plans back to Glorfindel.

“Most everything else: history, advanced mathematics, foreign languages, composition, diplomacy and foreign relations, researching and cataloguing…”

It seemed that the more classes that Elrond rattled off, the higher Glorfindel’s eyebrows rose.

“And he’s still finds time to be your Chief Advisor.”

“Yes. Remarkable elf, isn’t he? Finds time for anything and everything. It’s unhealthy, really, but it does keep Imladris up to par. I should really take away those anti-sleep medicines from the public-access cabinets…”

Elrond turned thoughtful and took to staring blankly out of his window. Seeing that they’ve covered all that was needed to be covered, Glorfindel straightened his papers and stood up.

“I believe I will go set up my classrooms then. Thank you, my Lord.”

Elrond turned to blink benignly at Glorfindel.

“Hm? Oh yes. You best go prepare. You’re welcome. you you at dinner, then.”

Glorfindel was about to assent, when he remembered his dinner plans with Erestor.

“I’m taking a private meal today, Lord Elrond. I hope you do not mind?”

“No, no, not at all. Find someone of interest, did you?”

Elrond had a secret, un-lordly interest in gossip, particularly those concerning relationships and love lives. He could be rather subtle if he wanted to be.

“You could call him that if you wanted to. It’s only a chance for me to get to know him better…as a friend.”

“Ah, I see…I don’t suppose I know him very well?”

“Actually, it’s Erestor.”

“Erestor? Well, good luck in getting to know him better. The last time I saw him speak during dinner, one of the rare times he actually comes, was when the Lothlorien delegates came. Even then, it was only to tell a bold elf that approached him to keep his eyes occupied elsewhere.”

“Thank you, my Lord. You are quite the motivational speaker.”

Glodel del didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm from his voice, though he let a smile cross his face.

“Oh, forgive me. Well, good luck. I’m sure the two of you will…get along famously.”

“Getting along is what I’m aiming for tonight. Getting along famously…that may take another age, if I know Erestor well enough by now.”

“Optimism, Glorfindel, optimism.”

“If you say so, my Lord. I’ll be off now. In case you need Erestor or me, we’ll be in the East Terrace during dinner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Have a nice evening.”

“You too, my Lord.”

With that, Glorfindel strode out of Elrond’s study towards the classrooms in the education halls. Dinner with Erestor…he wondered how that would work out.

Evening rolled around and scrawling out the name of the last pupil he would have this year, Glorfindel hurried back to his rooms to freshen up.

Dinnertime finally came and Glorfindel waited patiently in the East Terrace. He turned as he heard the small click of the door. It was Erestor, looking worn but calm and collected. Glorfindel gestured to the long table, laden with a white tablecloth and simple dishes.

“Shall we?”

Erestor gave no reply but sat down promptly, quickly scanning the dishes. He looked up at Glorfindel, who was picking up his fork.

“Oh. Please, eat.”

Erestor did not return his smile. Quiet chewing and the clattering of silver utensils were the only sounds that pervaded the room for a short while. Finally, Glorfindel tired of the silence and put his fork down.

“Have you ever seen the city of Tirion, Master Erestor?”

The f Adf Advisor fixed his gaze on Glorfindel’s eyes, easily reading them as the Vanya was not hiding hntenntentions. Tempted though he was, Erestor did not lie. It was not his way.

“Yes.”

Having forced the word out, Erestor then lowered his gaze onto his baked potato and, to make it clear that he did not want to further discuss the subject, began to methodically cut it into equal pieces using harder knife strokes than necessary.

Long minutes passed between the two Elves before Glorfindel spoke again. He was hesitant, but without bringing it up, there was no way thnvernversation, if it could be called that, would amount to anything. He had to understand…even if it meant breaking a promise to Elrond. Glorfindel silently asked for Eru’s forgiveness before letting his words out.

“I know what you did in the past, Master Erestor. But I do not judge you for it.”

Erestor visibly stiffened and his voice came out low and unnervingly abrupt.

“Why are you bringing this up? I believe I was invited to a dinner, not a criminal interrogation.”

“This is a dinner, Master Erestor. I am trying to understand you. I only-”

“Why? Lord Elrond told you all you need to know.”

Bitterness was evident in Erestor’s voice as the advisor gritted his teeth. How could his Lord betray his trust? This did not escape the Vanya’s attention and Glorfindel shook his head.

“This was not Lord Elrond’s fault. I insisted on knowing because we are to work closely together until the end of this Age, I imagine. I would have us understand one another and be friends.”

“I would rather not.”

“We have both lived in dark times that many Elves here know only through songs and scrolls. They do not understand as we do. We have both fought the same enemy, the same spawn of Morgoth. And we have both defeated evil, though I gave my life for it. We both have the hearts of warriors…is that not cause enough for friendship?”

“I am a warrior no longer.”

Glorfindel’s eyes quickly flickered downwards. He wanted to make sure Erestor had a tight grip on his knife, which he did. The Chief of Defenses stood up abruptly, turned around, and walked toward the back wall of the room. Once there, Glorfindel spun around and drew out a thin, but deadly dagger from his sleeve. With accurate precision and impossible speed, the golden-haired Elf threw the weapon, aimed directly at Erestor’s head.

With the reaction speed of only a very experienced soldier, Erestor met the dagger with the edge of his knife and deflected the weapon aside with so much force that Glorfindel saw a spark when the blades clashed head-on.

Erestor slammed his knife down on the table as he leaped to his feet, and opened his mouth to speak. However, Glorfindel beat the advisor to it. He let a wry smile cross his face.

“To me, it would seem otherwise.”

“I have not wielded a weapon for over an age. I forsake that way and you know why.”

Erestor was livid, but sat back down, his back rigidly straight.

“I do, but that was in the past. It was nearly two ages ago, Erestor. Put it behind you.”

“What I do is none of your concern.”

“I chose to keep my memories so that I do not forget who I am or what I have done, but I have put my past behind me. I accept what has happened and that nothing I do or feel now will ever change it.”

Glorfindel stared pointedly at the Chief Advisor.

“You have nothing to regret.”

Here, Erestor spoke acidly, though his temper was expertly kept in check. He had been fine with no one knowing of his past except Elrond, but then this audacious, overconfident Balrog-slayer waltzes into Imladris and insists on trying to -understand- him.

“On the contrary, I regret many things. I regret that I could not save more of Gondolin’s people. I regret I did not have a chance to slay Maeglin myself. I would commit the c of of kinslaying without a question if he walked into this room at this moment.”

Erestor’s lips thinned before he spoke again.

“That is different, Master Glorfindel. Maeglin deserved to die.”

He looked as if he was going to say something else, but stopped himself. After a brief pause, he spoke again.

“You pry far too much into private affairs. I suggest you put that skill to use in defending Imladris.”

With that, Erestor stood up abruptly and walked out without another word. Glorfindel stared tiredly at Erestor’s nearly untouched dinner plate. This was not what he wanted at all.