Chapter 14: hopes we never dared to have

After regaining his wits, Erestor quickly left the room and hastened after the warrior. He could not let Glorfindel leave like that. Where was the elf heading anyway? What was he running from? Not heeding the bewildered looks following his hurried steps down the corridor, Erestor wondered where the warrior had vanished to so quickly.

Hearing a door open just out of sight Erestor quickened his steps even more, knowing that a confrontation was now inevitable. Master Elrond’s study was the only room located on this side of the corridor.

A surprised shout of “Glorfindel” confirmed his guess that his friend was just ahead. When Erestor rounded the bend in the corridor an odd sight greeted him. His Lord and the Troop Commander were staring at each other like strangers. The twins were hovering in the middle of the corridor hoping to block any farther flight of their mentor. Erestor knew that this would be futile if Glorfindel did try to force an escape.

However, the battle of irritated looks lasted only for seconds before the warrior turned to run further down the corridor. Erestor could not see his friend’s face, but the frightened expressions on the brothers faces told him enough. The twins quickly cleared out of the way while averting their eyes. The ancient elf was not easily confronted.

Erestor redoubled his efforts to reach the fleeing elf before he could leave the house and reach the stables. He had the uneasy feeling that if Glorfindel managed to leave the grounds of Imladris they would never see him alive again on this side of the Sundering Sea. He only answered Elrond’s questioning gaze with a shake of his head while passing by.

He saw, however, that the warrior was stopped effectively when he reached the door. Erestor cried out in anguish but closed his mouth a moment later at the events unfolding before his astounded gaze.

……………………………………..

Glorfindel was just a few paces short from reaching the entrance when the great double-doors opened and an elleth with her little son at her hand or holding her hand entered.

Erestor recognized instantly who the visitors were and let out a cry of warning fearing that things would now go out of control.

Erestor saw the events unfold in front of him as if they occurred in slow motion. Glorfindel seemed startled by the sudden appearance of the mother and her child and hesitated in his forward progress to leave the house.

The elfling, who had instantly recognized the fair-haired elf, broke free of his mother’s hand and ran toward the elf he had so fervently wished to visit. Yet, when he had nearly reached the warrior, the little boy stopped and his face became a frown. The expression on the face he had only known as kind was frightening him.

The boy’s lower lip began to tremble and he backed away from the elf he had liked so much for all his short life. Alerted through the shout, Lady Liriel, the elfling’s mother, looked up in alarm.

Instantly her gaze was directed toward her son. Her eyes widened when she saw the boy turn and run away from the very elf he had begged her all day to visit. The reluctance of Master Elrond to let her son visit his most beloved “uncle” came suddenly back to her mind and she narrowed her eyes.

Her brain however needed a few seconds to realize that the threat was coming from the last person she had ever expected to be a risk to her son.

She could not comprehend why her dead husband’s friend looked so distressed and was obviously fleeing down the corridor from the chief councillor. Her son had turned and changed direction only to run full force into the legs of the Master of Imladris who had deliberately stepped in the child’s path.

The elfling shrieked in fear but quieted quickly when he recognized who was holding him in his arms. Elrond gently placed the head of the little boy against his shoulder and the elfling began to sob. The healer gave the elfling’s mother a sign with his hand and she stopped her advance.

Glorfindel had not moved an inch after seeing the boy turn and flee from him in fear. He swallowed. Had he caused the child to recoil in terror from him? For long moments he stood there frozen. He did not recognize the various gazes directed at him. Erestor waited apprehensively, he looked ready to intervene, Liriel’s frown had deepened into confusion and Elrond’s expression was blank, yet his gaze was alert.

The warrior took a deep breath, something he had not done for a long time. Seeing the child crying into his Lord’s shoulder twisted something inside him, it moved his heart. Like waking from a bad dream a veil was suddenly lifted from his soul. He blinked as if he had just realized where he was.

The hallway around him had fallen deadly silent apart from the quiet crying of the elfling.

Swallowing down the lump coming up his throat Glorfindel fixed his gaze on the child and slowly walked over; calming his agitated thoughts with every step he took. Locking eyes with his Lord, Glorfindel asked silently for permission to come closer. Elrond granted it with a curt nod but not without a clear warning in his gaze.

When he had reached his friend Glorfindel slowly extended a hand toward the child and touched the small forearm slung around Elrond’s neck softly.

“Elenion, please stop crying. Will you just look at me?” he said softly. For a few seconds nothing happened, yet the quiet voice and soft touch achieved the desired effect.

The boy stopped sobbing and turned his head just a fraction to look at the warrior. His body was still pressed into the strong arms holding him.

The scrutiny lasted a few moments until the boy turned his head fully. “Glorfy?” was the timid query.

A small smile came to the warrior’s face and Elrond slowly released his held breath. His friend was radiating calm and compassion. The haunted expression in his eyes had vanished.

Had the warrior found his equilibrium again? The healer hoped it was the case, yet he remained watchful; a caution he owed to the nervous mother still hovering a few feet ahead. Elrond admired her restraint. It would have been all too understandable for her to snatch her child away from a potentially dangerous situation.

Yet she held her breath like all the other elves witnessing this scene. No small amount of faith in their Lord let the elves stay back and watch how a little child could maybe restore a much loved and missed member of their community.

When Glorfindel opened his arms and beckoned the elfling all eyes were fixed on the warrior. After a brief hesitation however the boy relinquished his hold on the dark haired healer and allowed himself to be picked up by the warrior.

“You frightened me,” the little boy said with a trace of irritation in his voice. The frown had not entirely left his face.

“That was not my intention, little one. Will you forgive me? I hope you will still consider me as your friend?” The golden warrior gazed in earnest at the child; no trace of amusement in his eyes.

The boy looked back just as gravely and after a brief consideration he nodded. “I forgive you,” he said and quickly hugged the elf tightly. Glorfindel returned the hug and held the boy for a long moment. ‘Forgive me, Thalan,’ he whispered almost inaudibly. ‘I will take good care of him.’

The relief in the hallway was almost palpable. Elrond stepped up beside his friend and squeezed his forearm lightly. “I’m glad you are back,” he said, yet his eyes expressed more joy and relief then he could have uttered with words.

Glorfindel inclined his head with the promise of a much overdue talk in a more private atmosphere. After that he turned and strode toward the elfling´s mother. He was grateful that the gathered elves were slowly dispersing.

“Lady Liriel,” he said with a slight bow, “I can only apologize for my recent behaviour.” He looked fondly at the child in his arms before he transferred the elfling into his mother’s embrace.

After receiving her child and before the warrior had the chance to say something more the slender woman tiptoed and placed a kiss on Glorfindel´s cheek. For a second she was embarrassed by her behaviour, but she relaxed when she saw that the warrior did not mind.

“I’m glad you are recovered, my Lord. You must visit us soon, and no excuses” she replied quickly with a stern voice, yet she was not able to hide the joy and relief in her eyes.

Seeing the eager nod of the boy Glorfindel bowed with a smile. “That I will gladly do Lady Liriel, I promise.” Inclining her head in gratitude the elleth turned and left the hallway with her smiling son waving over her shoulder.

Glorfindel did not have to turn to know who was approaching him. Before however Erestor or Elrond had the chance to say anything he turned, looked at them, and quickly spoke. “Please, I need some fresh air. I think a ride will do me some good. I will be back soon. I would be grateful if both of you would grant me a meeting then.”

“Take as much time as you need, my friend,” The Lord of Imladris said while smiling. “We will be there, whenever you are ready to talk,” the dark haired councillor added, a matching smile upon his face.

The warrior inclined his head in thanks and took a deep breath before he left. This time Erestor did not have to pursue the warrior to the stables. He was sure Glorfindel would come back.

…………………………………………..

Galaeron looked up briefly from the report he was reading when he heard the door to his office open. He made a conscious effort not to scowl at whoever was disturbing him again. Since Lord Glorfindel´s absence he could hardly manage all the paper work that had piled on the two desks. Again, he wondered with admiration, how seemingly easily Glorfindel did all this while having many other additional duties.

Galaeron was already late with next week’s schedule of the patrols shift and the gap the slain patrol had left still had to be filled. Furthermore, the assignment of the newly trained recruits to their respective captains had to be considered.

His borderline scowl, however, was quickly replaced by a gasp when he realized who had entered his office. In fact it was the Troop Commander’s office and right now he was standing there regarding him with an unreadable expression. His face carefully neutral Galaeron arose quickly to his feet. “My Lord,” he greeted the Troop Commander while inclining his head.

The following silence was deafening. From the corner of his eye Galaeron saw the two scribes busy attending their scripts after a formal greeting, avoiding any eye-contact with the officers.

Regarding the stiff posture of his second-in-command and feeling the tense atmosphere Glorfindel took a deep breath. He was aware of the fact, that he alone had caused this reticence of his men through his recent behaviour.

He was absolutely sure that Galaeron had told no one how badly he had treated him, yet no one had to be a mind reader to see how deeply his misspoken words had affected the popular captain.

Glorfindel had made it clear that every problem or complaint could be addressed with him and he had always had an open ear for the needs of his warriors. He, as well as the troops had cherished this open relationship built out of trust and respect.

That easy-going manner had been if not destroyed, greatly damaged, and he was here to make up for it. Not wanting to stretch the awkward silence any longer Glorfindel cleared his throat and waited until Galaeron met his eyes. “Captain, may I speak with you?” he asked with a kind voice. He quickly let his gaze sweep over the room and then added “…in private.”

The two young elves practically fled the room before the last word had left his lips. Amusing as this may have been under different circumstances the fact saddened him now. But one step at a time, he would talk to his men later. This was only about Galaeron and him.

“Of course, my Lord,” Galaeron answered and Glorfindel saw that the uneasiness had still not left the captain’s eyes. Sighing he nodded and gestured toward two comfortable seats in the back of the office. Many a difficult conversation had been held there and Glorfindel wanted to make this as easy as possible.

As soon as Galaeron had taken his seat Glorfindel leaned forward and looked intently at his captain. “Galaeron, I’ve come here to offer my sincerest apology. What I accused you off was rude and completely unfounded. I was not thinking clearly.”

Galaeron looked at his chief in shock. Lord Elrond had told him why his Troop Commander had acted as he had and that he had no control over his mind at that time because of the baleful influence from the Nazgûl. Only a few had been informed about this fact but as Glorfindel’s substitute he had to know. Galaeron now felt that that Glorfindel was apologizing for something that was not his fault.

“My Lord, you have no reason to…,” the captain began but was quickly stopped by a hand on his forearm.

“Galaeron, I know what you want to say but it would gladden my heart to know there are no grudges between the two of us. Nazgûl or not, I should have been in better control of myself.”

Lowering his eyes Galaeron only nodded to acknowledge the apology, although only for the sake of his chief. He would support his Troop Commander forever; even sacrifice his life for his, regardless of circumstance.

Seeing Glorfindel smile gratefully, Galaeron blushed slightly realizing that he had not guarded his emotions.

Rising, Glorfindel pulled Galaeron to his feet as well. “I’m glad we have settled this, although it will take some time until I will fully return to my post. I’m glad to know I have a competent captain to take over my duties for a while and fit into Thalan’s position.

With the mention of the deceased captain both elves struggled with their composure. Galaeron had been promoted quickly, but had the bittersweet taste such a promotion also brought with it.

“Take all the time you need, my Lord. We will be glad whenever you decide to return.” Without another word, yet with a much lighter heart, Glorfindel left the office.

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Glorfindel walked determinedly down the corridor until he stood before his Lord’s study. With a jerk he lifted his fist, yet he did not knock immediately. Again he wondered what made him hesitate.

Three days had gone by since he was able to lift the mantle of desperation and despair that had gripped him with a fierce embrace. Thanks to a little boy he broke through the surface and returned to his former self with the light around him once more.

He still grieved deeply, but he managed to go on, to take steps toward reaching his inner equilibrium again and gain healing for his soul.

Over the past days he had spoken with his warriors, had paid Thalan’s widow a visit and had spent much time with her little son. He had slowly but steadily begun taking over his duties, until today he had led the morning patrol along the northern border of the valley.

Despite the knowledge of being watched discretely from all sides he had enjoyed making the tour, feeling his old confidence return, albeit slowly and reluctantly. With determination, however, he had checked all reports regarding the safety of Imladris and he was satisfied to find no trace that any minion of Sauron was lurking in the near vicinity of the hidden valley.

One meeting, however, he had postponed until now. To speak, truly speak, with his Lord. He did not know why he was trying to avoid it; Elrond had always been the most understanding and supporting elf, yet this step was the most difficult.

Of course he had talked with the healer since his recovery but just light conversation, not a true exposition of his feelings. Now he had decided to do it with no further delay. Taking a deep breath he knocked on the door.

The Master of Imladris immediately opened the door. “Glorfindel, please come in. I’ve been awaiting you.” ‘Of course he had been’, Glorfindel thought with an inward sigh, but he would just leave this behind him and be done with it. Inclining his head he entered the study.

……………………………………..

Elrond looked up and smiled when a knock sounded at his study door. He was just about to open a wine bottle after Erestor had come to his rooms.

He walked to the door, opening it to see Glorfindel on the other side.  “Enter,” he said, bidding his visitor to take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs around the fire pit. Erestor had already stretched out in one of the overstuffed seats.  

Glorfindel nodded his thanks when Elrond pressed a glass filled with a deep red wine into his hand. With contented relief the healer catalogued the healthy appearance of his friend. Erestor regarded the warrior with the same interest yet from other motives. Glorfindel was well aware of the scrutiny and bore it with grace.

When he and Elrond had also taken their seats a heavy silence descended over the three Elf-lords. Everyone was sorting out their thoughts and no one dared to disturb the other, being too occupied themselves. This time however, the silence felt not awkward but rather companionable.

After a while Glorfindel looked up and addressed the other two Elf-lords with sincere expression. “Elrond, Erestor, even if you do not want to hear it, I will say it nonetheless. I’m deeply sorry for all the distress my recent behaviour has caused. I’ve thought it over carefully and now know that I’m not to blame, at least not entirely, yet you had to bear it nonetheless and I thank you for your patience.”

Turning fully toward Elrond Glorfindel continued. “Elrond you need not fear that any information has been transferred. The Nazgûl had no means to relate anything he learned here. All information died with him.”

Although already guessing and hoping as much, Elrond nonetheless took a deep sigh of relief. With a genuine smile he returned the intense gaze of his old friend.

“I’m glad to hear you say this, Glorfindel, as glad as I am that you are on your way to a full recovery. And I will gladly say it again; neither Erestor nor I, nor anyone else here in Imladris holds any blame against you.”

Glorfindel inclined his head in gratitude, yet a frown crossed his fair face at the words. He could not remember having directed misplaced words at any time toward Erestor. The quick glance between the two dark haired elves however was not lost on him.

Looking back and forth Glorfindel could clearly sense the statement ‘I’ve not told him’ from Erestor.

His frown deepened. “You have not told me what, Erestor?” he asked with a demanding tone. Sighing and knowing that he must tell him Erestor took a deep breath and briefly recounted how Glorfindel had attacked him and thus revealed that he was still possessed.

Glorfindel´s expression changed from frowning into outright horror. He looked with incredulity at Erestor at a loss what to say. Until now he had thought his only missteps were rude and misplaced words but being forced to attack others…he swallowed. The whole mess was moving towards a crest.

Seeing how the warrior struggled to digest what Erestor had just said Elrond stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Glorfindel do not overreact, the attacks caused no great harm…” As soon as the words had left his lips, Elrond realized his mistake.

“Attacks?” Glorfindel cried while jumping up. “Elrond do not tell me that I’ve also attacked other elves…”

Glorfindel stopped and quickly judged the contrite expression on the healer’s face correctly.

“Elrond, I’m sorry…what can I say…..” he whispered, no longer able to form a coherent thought. Elrond sighed. He had to act quickly, otherwise all positive progress would be ruined and the warrior would slip out of their reach again.

“Glorfindel, listen to me. No harm was done, apart for a few bruises and scrapes, certainly nothing worth despairing of. We are only glad you have returned to us and nothing else matters.”

Nodding slowly Glorfindel raised his eyes. “Thank you. I’m grateful for friends like you and if you will have some more patience, I promise I will put this all behind me as quickly as possible.”

“Take as much time as you need, Glorfindel,” Erestor said and raised his forgotten glass to toast with the two elves around him.

………………………………..

One week later a great feast was held in front of the Last Homely House. It was not loud and merry, rather devotional and an opportunity to honour the fallen warriors. Galaeron himself had organized it and only at the last moment had informed his Troop Commander of this event. Glorfindel had hesitated but finally relented to be the guest of honour and he had made a speech that had brought tears not only to his eyes.

All warriors not on duty confirmed that they were more than content with their Troop Commander. Glorfindel had to swallow many times and the following remembrance ceremony was long recounted afterwards.

At last Glorfindel had fulfilled a little boy’s fervent wish. With a steady voice he proclaimed: “And here I nominate Elenion Thalanion to be our youngest honour recruit ever. He shall step in his father’s footsteps and protect all he loves from this time forward.”

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The End

A/N

I want to thank all that have followed my story and left a review. I appreciate it very much. Lai