The Long Journey Home

Title: The Long Journey Home
Author: silmfan (trueself101@yahoo.com)
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 elves. 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.
Again, feedback is appreciated.

Note: My tenses fluctuate, I know. Bad me. No, unfortunately the title does not refer to a wedding proposal. It’s purely business but it kicks off some long-awaited action. And I know I haven't updated in a long time, but it's summer vacation now, so expect at least a few new chapters in the near future.


Chapter 9: The Proposal


Erestor sank deeper into the high-backed couch, his gaze focused intensely on the dying embers in the fireplace. He pondered what he had seen earlier in the day. He had gone to the watchtower closest to the border of Imladris in the afternoon to collect the usual daily report. While perusing it quickly, Erestor felt the wind picking up speed and thought he heard a faint groan that seemed to come deep from the earth. Out of the corner of his eye, he studied the Misty Mountains. He had no proof…was not absolutely sure…

A knock interrupted his scruting ofg of his suspicions. Erestor stood up quickly and glided to the door.

Glorfindel, with his hair completely loose and let down, gave the advisor a faint smile.

“Dinner is starting early today and Lord Elrond would like you to be there.”

The lighted candle just outside the room cast sharp shadows on Erestor’s smooth, pale face, highlighthis his high cheekbones and thin lips. The warrior noticed this. Erestor tilted his head up a bit to look at Glorfindel impassively.

“I was informed of this already. Please tell our Lord that I would like to speak with him urgently in his study after dinner is finished.”

Erestor stepped back and shut the door.

Glorfindel returned to the dining hall and took his seat at the long table. Elrond studied at the Vanya’s serene expression.

“He’s not coming, is he? Unlike him to refuse a request. Not that he can’t refuse, of course…”

To this, Glorfindel merely smiled and began eating. He watched Celebrian run her hand over Elrond’s shoulders reassuringly as the Lord sighed and shook his head. He laughed when the twins stubbornly refused to eat their cauliflowers. He listened when one of his students next to him talked about his hunting interests. When Glorfindel finished the last bit of food on his plate, he turned to Elrond and passed on Erestor’s message. He then turned to walk to the library, musing. He wondered what was missing from his life.


Elrond knew that Erestor would be waiting right outside the door long before he reached his study.

“Erestor. Come in.”

The Lord of Imladris opened the door, motioning for his advisor to follow him. Once they settled in the two chairs by the fireplace, Elrond spoke.

“What is it that is urgent enough to have you talk to me about it in person, but not urgent enough for me to miss a simple dinner?”

Never let it be said that lords make succinct conversations. Erestor’s lips thinned slightly.

“My Lord, I have a suspicion. As of now, I can neither confirm nor dis its it, but I recommend that some form of action must take place to address it. It need not be immediate, but soon would be best.”

“What you suspect…it is not…”

Elrond’s piercing, gray eyes asked Erestor the unspoken question. Erestor answered quickly, gazing unwaveringly at his Lord.

“Nay, my Lord. Rather, my suspicion regards that which may lie deep underground beneath the Mountains. Unless my ears fail me now, I believe I heard their distress. The guards in the watchtower are too young to understand nature’s subtle calls and if they heard it, they paid little attention to it.”

Elrond lowered his head slightly so that his chin rested on a hand propped up by his chair’s arm. He gazed at the carpet beneath his feet while muttering.

“The seeds have been sown…”

He sighed and leaned fully into the back of his chair again, focusing his gaze back on the Chief Advisor.

“I do not doubt what your instinct tells you, Erestor. Truth be told, I have felt a different substance in the air. However, I must hear what method of action you propose. As you well know, this is a place of refuge. We need not venture out as long as it is not absolutely necessary.”

“I understand, my Lord. That is why I do not recommend sending an entire patrol to the Mountains but rather the smallest scouting group we can afford. Four, maybe five, Elves with Glorfindel leading them. He specializes not in spy work but he is the best Imladris has in leadership and protection.”

“I will accept your proposal but I am inclined to delay sending the scouting troop out for another three or four months. The patrols here are trained but not well enough. I need Glorfindel to train those chosen for the group under an intensive program. I will not lose one Elf…not while I am here. I would ask you to inform Glorfindel of this decision and to come to me if he has any objections. I will handle the rest.”

Elrond rose to his feet and, with a gesture of a hand towards the door, dismissed Erestor. Bowing, the Chief Advisor swept out of the study and quietly shut the door behind him.


Erestor stood stiffly before the door of Glorfindel’s room and knocked. A muffled “One moment, please!” answered him. Erestor was a patient Elf, but he mentally urged Glorfindel to hurry, for his message needed immediate attention.

Glorfindel grabbed a nearby pair of sleep pants and pulled them on hastily. His bath would have to wait. He grumbled and opened the door, his eyelashes fluttering in surprise when he discovered who the knocker was.

“Ah, Master Erestor. Please, come in.”

Erestor looked over the bare-chested, informally-clad Vanya, and frowned slightly.

“There is no need, Master Glorfindel. I come to relay an important message from Lord Elrond and myself. You and a select group of four Elves will need to scout the Misty Mountains, for there we suspect unrest and possible danger. Also-”

Glorfindel’s eyes glittered strangely at the mention of the Mountains.

“I-”

“Master Glorfindel. I am not to be interrupted, especially when it concerns the safety of Imladris. I would that you keep your mouth closed until I am finished. Do you understand?”

Glorfindel wondered if Erestor ingested venom for breakfast this morn. However, one could not go against the word of the second-in-command. The warrior leaned against his doorway and let out a punctuated sigh. The advisor’s eyes narrowed as he continued.

“Also, Lord Elrond gives you three to four months to ready your select group under a self-devised intensive training program. Then you must leave…lest it be too late. You will accept?”

Erestor clasped his hands behind his back and, waiting for an answer, turned his gaze away from Glorfindel.

“I will do it…but we are risking young lives, Master Erestor.”

The warrior’s facial expression was resolute, but his voice soft.

“That is the price that must be paid, as you well know.”

Erestor gripped Glorfindel’s shoulder as he emphasized his point, and then suddenly let go.

“I trust you know what to do and what to look for, Master Glorfindel. I take my leave.”

Erestor strode quickly down the hall and out of sight.

Glorfindel watched the advisor go and he absently rubbed his shoulder. He felt cold all of a sudden. The warrior frowned as he shut the door and slipped off his pants. He then slid quietly into the still-steaming tub and mused on his impending task.

Truthfully, he had no other choice than to agree to do what Elrond and Erestor requested of him. After all, wasn’t it the whole reason the Valar sent him back? To protect Elrond and drisdris at all cost? Glorfindel wondered what he had that no other Elf did. The Valar could have very well sent back Ecthelion…the warrior’s heart panged at the thought of his past-life lover. Or perhaps Turgon; maybe even Fingolfin. They would all be formidable opponents, probably more so than he. It wasn’t as if the Enemy didn’t know him…Glorfindel knew of the many books and songs that praised him for his great deeds and honorable sacrifice. At least one under the Enemy’s orders, if not the Enemy himself, had to be literate. Glorfindel exhaled sharply and began to frustrate over the fact that the Valar was sometimes overly mysterious. He then dunked his golden head under the water, reveling in the soft and throbbing warmth that pulsated around him. Here, the warrior could put his duties in the back of his mind.


Elrond turned his head when he heard a firm thud on his study door. Erestor, of course. The Lord invited him in, though he did not move from the wheeling ladder that he was currently perched on, engrossed in reshelving his books in alphabetical order by title rather than author. Elrond merely tilted his head in question and Erestor understood.

“Glorfindel agreed.”

Elrond shut the open book that he had taken down from closest shelf.

“That is good. Very good. I want reports, as always, to make sure that they don’t die out there.”

“Of course.”

Elrond lifted an eyebrow.

“You know that I stand by what id bid before, correct? I want no Elf dying on my account. You realize this?”

Erestor looked at his Lord impassively with deep brown eyes. Elrond was not convincing him…he was convincing himself.

“I realize it, my Lord.”

Elrond nodded his head firmly and placed the book he held back on the shelf before reaching for another, mumbling.

“Of course…that is good, Erestor…”

After observing, for a bit, his Lord squinting and getting lost in the depths of book titles, Erestor silently left the room, intent on heading to the Healing Houses for the third time that day. One last report, and quick conduct observation, and he would be free to work further on his dissertation.

For one moment, a thought flashed through his head. His life…did it have meaning? A sharp jerk with his head shook the idea straight out of Erestor’s mind. His purpose is to serve Elrond and advise him the best way he can in all things. Yes, that is it and that is all. After all, he still has many years to go until the Valar deems him worthy and good again. He has to stay to serve for his sins. There is no other way…