A Love Found and Lost

Title: A Love Found and Lost

Website; http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon/
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Glorfindel decides to join Haldir when the Elves march for Helm's Deep, and the night before Glorfindel leaves, Erestor seeks him out and they make love.

Disclaimer: These characters are all Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU, CHARACTER DEATH – GLORFINDEL!
Author’s Note: All mistakes are all mine; yeah, I am greedy! And remember; this is AU! Many thanks to Ford of Bruinen for brainstorming with me and to Jenn for betaing it.

In utter disbelief and shock, Erestor pulled Glorfindel’s lifeless body onto his lap. “By the Grace of the Valar, how could you allow this?” Wailing miserably, Erestor cradled Glorfindel’s bloody and cold corpse against him. The warrior still wore his armor, which had failed to keep him safe in battle. Behind him, terrified screams escaped the throats of Men and the keep vibrated with explosions. The Uruk-hai released a triumphant roar and stormed forward, invading the Hornburg like a festering disease.

But the screams of agony lost their ugly roar as Erestor looked at Glorfindel’s still face – his handsome features frozen in death. “You cannot die on me, Glorfindel. I need you!” Cradling the heavy body against him, he rocked the other Elf in his arms. Hair that had once sparkled like the sun had turned matte and dark with blood – Glorfindel’s blood. As Erestor tenderly ran fingertips down Glorfindel’s face, tears sprang from his eyes.

“No!” Erestor sat upright in bed, startled and thoroughly shaken from the nightmare he had just had. His hair was damp and a fine layer of sweat covered the rest of his body. Tears leaked from his eyes, but he didn’t even bother wiping them away, overcome with fear and fright. Glorfindel couldn’t die! Wouldn’t die at Helm’s Deep!

The blond warrior’s words had haunted him for days now. Three days ago, Glorfindel had announced he would join Haldir when the ‘Lorien army marched for Helm’s Deep. Erestor knew deep in his heart that Glorfindel, the warrior, couldn’t stand by and watch others march to their death. And that he would lose him.

They had been friends – good friends – for millennia now and the prospect of losing Glorfindel terrified him. Even more so because he had loved the blond for the last few hundred years, but he hadn’t wanted to upset the pleasant balance between them by admitting he had feelings for Glorfindel, as he had no idea how the warrior would react. So he had remained quiet instead.

But what about now -- this last night before Glorfindel would leave Imladris? Tomorrow morning, Glorfindel would join Haldir and the troops and only the Valar knew if he would ever see the blond again!

Looking at his hands, he found that they had turned into claws and he had shredded the fine silken sheet. /Was it just a nightmare? Or was it more?/ Like Elrond, he was cursed with the gift of foresight, and although it didn’t haunt him as often and as strongly as it did the half-Elf, he was confronted with the future on occasion. What if Glorfindel would find his death at Helm’s Deep? What if it was just concern and an overly active imagination? Did he dare take the risk?

He briefly thought about attempting to change the blond’s mind, but he knew his friend well enough to understand that Glorfindel *had* to go – had to fight. The warrior in him demanded so. So what *was* there left for him to do? /I cannot tell him I love him. Not on the night before he marches for Helm’s Deep./ But he could *show* Glorfindel how much he cared without ever saying those important words.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. One night of passion with Glorfindel. He was fairly certain the warrior wouldn’t reject him. Glorfindel *did* care about him and this *was* Glorfindel’s last night in Imladris – and in safety. Why reject him?

He pushed back the covers and slowly sat upright. Darkness surrounded him and felt oppressing. Erestor stared into the black void and made up his mind. Rising from the bed, he made his way into the bathroom, where he filled the pool with warm water. After adding rose-scented oil to the water, he removed his night shirt and descended into the pool, letting the water cleanse and surround him. He reached for the soap and created lather.

Erestor rinsed the foam from his body and ran a comb through his raven hair, which reached past his waist. Dripping wet, he left the pool and wrapped himself up in soft towels. Erestor dried his skin and then sat down in front of the mirror, studying his reflection.

Several Elves had told him he was desirable, beautiful even, but he had taken none of them to his bed; his heart solely belonged to Glorfindel, even though the warrior didn’t know it.

Using the brush, he rid himself of the last tangles and let his long hair hang loose. It danced against the small of his back and his large, dark eyes burned with the reminder of the nightmare that still clung to him.

He rose, thoughtfully, and reached for a midnight-blue robe, which he draped over his shoulders. A phial, filled with sandalwood-scented oil caught his attention and he removed the stopper, letting some droplets run into the palm of his hand. He then worked the substance into the dark tresses, which now shone like ebony.

Satisfied with his appearance, he let the phial slip into a pocket. Erestor made his way over to the doorway, his mind set and calm. If one night with Glorfindel was all that the Valar were willing to give him, he would take it, and fully embrace it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock on his door came unexpectedly and made Glorfindel spin around. He had expected them to leave him alone on this last evening, as he had requested so. Who would dare ignore that request? He had already said his goodbyes to Elrond, the twins and even Erestor. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him and he answered the door. Surprised, he looked at Erestor, who stood still and silent in the corridor. “Erestor?” What was the Lord Councilor doing here?

Erestor didn’t answer him, and entered his private chambers instead. Glorfindel’s gaze followed the raven beauty as Erestor made his way over to the desk, where Glorfindel had laid out his weapons for a last inspection. The dark-haired Elf carefully lifted the long, Elven sword and balanced it in his hand. “It is a good sword,” said Glorfindel, puzzled by Erestor’s actions.

Erestor nodded once and then placed the sword back onto the desk. Glorfindel advanced on his friend and tried to label the expression in the dark eyes, but failed in doing so. “Erestor, I asked you not to seek me out. This is hard enough as it is.” Still, Erestor didn’t speak, which was out of character for the normally talkative advisor. “Why are you here?” And why did Erestor carry the scent of Sandalwood with him? Why did the jet-black hair call to him? And those eyes – those large, deer-like eyes… “You know I cannot stand back and watch them die. I have to be there. I have to fight alongside our brethren. I cannot stay here and pretend there is no war.”

Glorfindel slowly grew worried now that Erestor remained quiet. “Erestor, my dearest friend, tell me…” But Erestor shook his head and took hold of his hand instead. Glorfindel allowed it, wondering what Erestor was up to, and when the advisor guided him to the bed, he followed. “Erestor, I asked you not to come here and yet…” He was pushed onto the bed and sat down reluctantly whilst Erestor remained standing. “You are making this so much harder, my friend.”

Erestor smiled, ruefully, and slowly went down onto his knees. Glorfindel’s mouth went dry, seeing the loving, seductive expression in the chocolate brown eyes. “Erestor, what are you doing?” His eyes widened, feeling Erestor’s long, slender fingers undo the lacing of his leggings. “Erestor?” He wanted to sweep those hands away, but something in Erestor’s eyes stopped him.

Soft lips unexpectedly took his in a gentle kiss and all he could do was moan his approval. He had dreamt of a moment like this, but never had his fantasy left the realm of dreams. Was this a dream then? But no, Erestor felt real when he tentatively buried his fingers in the silken hair. Was this a gift then?

His wondering eyes sought out Erestor’s and he thought he saw love there, but could he truly be sure of that? He left for a suicide mission tomorrow… What motivated Erestor then? Was the advisor doing this out of love or pity? Did he really want to know? No.

Stealthy fingers slipped inside his leggings, pushing the fabric away. Erestor’s kisses and touches had their desired effects and he was quickly growing aroused. “Erestor, I…” But Erestor placed a finger across his lips and Glorfindel grew quiet, accepting this gift.

Erestor slid the leggings down and gestured for Glorfindel to step out of them, which the blond did. Already hard, Glorfindel’s erection enjoyed the gained freedom and eagerly bobbed free. His breath caught, seeing Erestor lean in closer. The ends of the soft hair caressed his skin and then eager, hot lips closed over the head of his hard flesh, suckling gently. “Oh…” Instinctively, he tightened the hold he had on the black strands of hair, reassuringly rubbing the scalp beneath it. His other hand came to rest at the nape of Erestor’s neck, massaging the tense muscles there.

Throwing back his head, Glorfindel mumbled encouragingly and couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into the moist and hot mouth, unwillingly forcing Erestor to take in more of his length. As he slid in deeper, heat surrounded him and he began to thrust in earnest. A part of him wondered why Erestor allowed this – and why the advisor knew how to pleasure him in this way – but the sensation was too pleasurable to allow his thoughts to wander much. A hand slid upward and cupped his testes, cunningly manipulating them, whilst the suckling sensation intensified. Calling out in ecstasy, he climaxed and his body trembled with release. Glorfindel stared at Erestor in rapture, finding that the raven beauty was dutifully swallowing. Not a single drop made it past the luscious red lips. Lips, which he had longed to taste for decades now.

Slowly, Erestor let the sated organ slip from his lips, and his warm tongue now wrapped itself around the member, cleaning it. Glorfindel felt weak in the knees, seeing the dedication and love, with which Erestor performed this act. “You…”

Erestor looked up then, and the large, almond-shaped eyes pleaded with him not to speak, not to ruin this moment by using words. “Thank you,” Glorfindel said eventually and the words made Erestor smile.

Erestor bestowed one last kiss onto the sated member and then slowly rose from the floor. Glorfindel stared at the advisor with respect, love and lust, and when Erestor pushed the midnight-blue robes from his shoulders, he swallowed hard, as a perfect body was revealed – just right for making love. Was that it? Was that Erestor’s true gift? Did the advisor want to give himself in an even more intimate way? Had this only been foreplay?

Steadfast, Erestor undid the buttons to Glorfindel’s shirt and pushed it down, revealing all of him to the advisor’s eyes. The sight must have pleased the Lord Councilor, for Glorfindel saw Erestor grow hard with need. Fingernails trailed down Glorfindel’s chest and his flat abdomen, whilst Erestor seductively licked his lips.

When Erestor pushed him onto his back, Glorfindel complied most eagerly, pulling the dark-haired Elf down with him – atop of him. Flesh moved against flesh and Erestor’s erection already leaked pre-ejaculate, proving to Glorfindel how much the other Elf needed and wanted him.

Erestor straddled Glorfindel’s hips and then bent forward to kiss his lips. Glorfindel moaned and brought his arms up behind the other Elf’s back. “What do you want?” he whispered in between kisses. He wasn’t hard yet, but his member was already twitching with interest. To his surprise, Erestor finally spoke.

“Please take me.”

Those three little words made Glorfindel swallow hard. “As you wish.” If only Erestor knew how many nights had been filled with dreams like this! Rolling Erestor onto his side, Glorfindel spooned behind him. “We need oil.” Erestor looked at him from over his shoulder and pushed something into his hand. Opening his fingers, Glorfindel identified a phial, doubtlessly filed with oil. “You came well-prepared.”

But Erestor looked away from him, curled up on his side and pulled his knees against his chest. Glorfindel nodded and drew in a deep breath. He had never thought he would ever make love to Erestor – only in his dreams, but never in real life – and he took his time, running his large warrior’s hands over the lithe body. Compared to his rather bulky frame, Erestor appeared small, fragile even, but Glorfindel would never make the mistake of underestimating the advisor.

Placing the phial aside for the moment, he tenderly caressed Erestor’s body, pushed the dark hair aside and nuzzled the neck. “You smell delicious.” At this point, he wasn’t surprised when no reply was forthcoming and he ran his hands down Erestor’s flanks, ending up cupping one round buttock. With his other hand, he reached for the phial. After removing the stopper, he let the oil drip onto his hard flesh, luxuriously coating himself. Right now, he felt truly grateful that Erestor had already made him come, for it meant he would last much longer and he wanted their union to last!

Glorfindel parted Erestor’s buttocks and his erection snuggled between the warm flesh, perfectly positioned for penetration. He stopped himself then and asked, “May I enter you?”

Tremors rocked Erestor’s body and were clearly audible in his voice when he said, “Aye, I beg of you.”

Glorfindel pressed close against Erestor’s back and slowly breached him, pushing past the guardian muscle and taking possession of the tight channel that now gripped him. He closed his eyes in bliss, enraptured that Erestor was this tight. He continued slowly, reminding himself to be careful as he didn’t want to cause the other Elf any discomfort. His lips sought and found the soft skin of Erestor’s throat and they kissed first, suckling later. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor and tried to press as close to the Elf in front of him as possible. Savoring the sensation, he resisted thrusting just yet. He had dreamt of this for so long!

But in the end, the need to find release won and he thrust a first time, perfectly angling to brush the sensitive nub inside Erestor’s body. The raven beauty moaned beautifully and Glorfindel took pity on him, quickening the pace of his strokes and penetrating him deeper. He didn’t know when he lost control, but soon he was plunging deep into the tight channel in search of release. Pulling Erestor close to him, he shallowly bit into the soft skin of the raven-haired Elf’s throat. One hand found its way down Erestor’s abdomen and wrapped possessive fingers around the weeping shaft, delivering firm strokes to the slippery flesh.

Warm cream erupted from the slit and covered his hands with the evidence of Erestor’s passion for him. Spasms erupted around his still buried member and Glorfindel groaned, stilling his movements and thus letting Erestor guide him to his orgasm. Bright lights exploded behind his closed eyelids – this orgasm was the most intense one he had ever had!

Even Exhausted, Glorfindel never let go of Erestor, making certain the advisor remained close and confined in the embrace. Cuddling close, he pressed kisses onto the damp hair. “Thank you.” His member had softened and unwillingly left Erestor’s body. “Please stay the night.” He didn’t want to be alone now – not after what had happened between them. Tired, Glorfindel’s eyes grew blank in sleep and he found peace in his dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor was grateful that Glorfindel couldn’t see his face, for if they had been face to face, the blond would have seen the trail his tears had left down his face. /I do not want to lose you to death, Glorfindel./ But his nightmare had been more than a dream. It *had* been a glimpse of the future and he knew that no matter what he did, he *would* lose Glorfindel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor never fell asleep that night, determined to savor Glorfindel’s closeness until the first ray of sun entered the bedroom.

Now, however, the time had come to leave, as he wanted to spare the blond any emotional scenes. Carefully, he loosened Glorfindel’s arms around him and regretted having to slip out of the protective embrace. He felt thankful that the other Elf didn’t wake and sat on the side of the bed for long moments, committing Glorfindel’s features to memory in case his dream had been true – foretelling the future.

“Please be careful, Glorfindel, and return to us,” he whispered in concern, love and dedication audible in his voice. He wanted to leave Glorfindel a memento, something that would remind the warrior of him in times of battle, but what? His gaze came to rest upon the ancient ring he was wearing; a family heirloom and highly treasured. It showed a firmly rooted tree, an ancient oak tree, the symbol of his house.

Erestor slid it off his finger and stared at it for long moments. His dying father had given it to him on the day they had fled Gondolin and the ring was very precious to him, but parting from it now seemed the right thing to do. Cautiously, he took hold of Glorfindel’s hand and slipped the ring down the ring finger. It fit perfectly.

Resting the hand back on Glorfindel’s flat abdomen, he leaned in closer for a last kiss. He claimed the bruised lips gently, stroked the long, flaxen hair and then rose from the bed. “I wish I could go with you to Helm’s Deep to keep you safe, but I am not an experienced warrior and I would only endanger you.” Also, Elrond wanted his Lord Councilor close in these dangerous times. “I will pray to the Valar in the hope that they will watch over you and keep you safe.” With pain in his heart, he got to his feet, wishing nothing more than being able to stay close to the blond and know him safe. “May the Valar keep you.”

Soundlessly, he made his way over to the door. From over his shoulder he looked at Glorfindel one last time and found him sound asleep. “I love you.” He quickly opened the door, stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him. His heart pounded madly and he fled to his own rooms whilst tears unashamedly made their way down his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel woke slowly, his body still humming pleasantly from last night’s sensual activity. Instinctively, he reached for Erestor, wanting to pull the other Elf close, but his eyes widened in shock, finding Erestor had left the bed. Startled he sat upright and scanned his rooms, but Erestor had gone and sadness descended onto his heart.

“Why? Why, Erestor?” Why had the dark-haired Elf come to him? Why had Erestor made such gentle, passionate love to him? Did the advisor love him? Or had he acted out of pity?

He sat upright, ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed deeply. His hands came to rest idly in his lap and that was when he noticed the ring around his ring finger. He instantly recognized it, having seen it around Erestor’s finger for ages. A deep frown appeared on his brow, but then he accepted this last gift and gently ran a fingertip over the mithril. A token to remember Erestor by.

Tears pushed against his closed eyelids, but he forced them back. He was about to leave for Helm’s Deep and didn’t have the luxury or time to cry. He had to prepare himself for battle instead.

“Thank you, Erestor,” he whispered, honestly. “Thank you for this one night.” Hopefully the memory of their lovemaking would keep him going in the upcoming war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond blinked. Erestor looked ‘normal’ – aloof, distant, even detached – but there was something in the dark eyes he had never seen before – a hint of tears. Had Erestor cried last night? Why? The healer took a step closer to his advisor and studied Erestor with concern. “Are you well, my friend?”

Erestor firmly nodded. “I am well.” But he felt like crumbling on the inside. The soldiers Imladris would dispatch to fight with their ‘Lorien brothers were already waiting, and only Glorfindel was still missing. Erestor didn’t delude himself into thinking that the Captain had changed his mind and would stay in Imladris. Glorfindel was probably wondering how to act when they said their final goodbyes.

Elrond’s eyes narrowed. “Erestor, what are you keeping from me?”

“I had a dream last night,” said Erestor, seeing no reason to hide this from his friend. “A nightmare, rather. I watched Glorfindel die at Helm’s Deep.”

Elrond sucked in his breath, thoroughly shocked. “I saw nothing of the kind.” But foresight came to the ones it chose and couldn’t be forced. “What else did you see?”

“Uruk-hai breaking through the Keep’s defenses.” Erestor’s eyes sought out Elrond’s. “May the Valar keep my dreams from becoming reality.”

Elrond was trying to accept what Erestor had told him just now. “We will lose Glorfindel?”

“To death, aye.” Erestor grew quiet then, as Glorfindel had finally appeared. Arwen, walking at Glorfindel’s side, was trying hard to act composed, but Erestor had known Arwen her entire life and easily read the signs that betrayed how upset she truly was.

“Adar!” Elladan stepped up to his father, fully armed and wearing armor. “We are ready to leave.”

Erestor knew how much effort it had taken the twins to convince Elrond to let them march for Helm’s Deep. Elrond had tried to forbid it, but the twins hadn’t taken their father’s no for an answer. Like Glorfindel, they felt they should fight alongside their brethren.

“Be careful, my sons,” said Elrond in an emotional voice. “Please come back to me.” He first bestowed a firm hug on Elladan and then on Elrohir when his youngest son opened his arms.

“We will, Adar. Do not worry about us.” Elladan and Elrohir spoke simultaneously.

And once more Erestor wondered about them. The twins were a spectacular sight to behold, having inherited Elrond’s features and his long, raven hair. For strangers it was impossible to tell them apart, and even he erred at times. They were fiercely loyal, brave and the best sons Elrond could have hoped for. Erestor comforted himself with the fact that these accomplished warriors would fight at Glorfindel’s side, covering each other’s backs. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the blond warrior stepping up to him. Glorfindel now stood in front of him and large, azure eyes questioningly fastened on him.

“Erestor?” Glorfindel determinedly took hold of Erestor’s right hand and held it tightly between his own. The mithril ring on his finger glittered in Arien’s light and reminded him of last night, giving him the courage he needed to proceed. Although Erestor’s eyes asked him not to address this, Glorfindel felt he didn’t have a choice. “Was it love? Or pity?”

“Glorfindel…” Erestor’s voice showed distress and he wished Glorfindel hadn’t asked that particular question. The blond Elf reassuringly rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, but Erestor still felt hesitant to address this. “You are about to march for Helm’s Deep. This is hardly the appropriate time to talk about this.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “If not now, then when? I might not survive Helm’s Deep, Erestor. Our chances of survival are small. Would you let me leave without knowing the truth? Would you be so cruel?”

Erestor swallowed convulsively. “I had so hoped that you would not do this.”

“Please tell me, Erestor. Tell me the truth.” Glorfindel ignored the questioning looks the four half-Elves were giving him. Right now, only Erestor’s answer mattered and he prayed to the Valar that the advisor hadn’t come to him out of pity last night.

Erestor knew he could only speak the truth and he nodded once. “I love you, Glorfindel. I have loved you for quite some time and I did not want you to ride into battle without having known you in that way.”

“I wish you had acted when you had first discovered those feelings,” said Glorfindel, feeling melancholy. “But I thank the Valar that you came to me last night. I will take those beautiful memories into battle with me.” Glorfindel pulled Erestor close, ignoring Elrond’s surprised gasp coming from behind him. These were the last precious moments he could share with Erestor and he wanted to make the best of them. “For I love you too, Erestor.”

Erestor’s eyes grew hooded with tears, but didn’t release them. Crying when saying goodbye wouldn’t do. He had to be strong now. “Come back to me, then.”

“I will, my beloved Erestor,” promised Glorfindel, who then proceeded to kiss the raven beauty. “And thank you for your gifts, Erestor.”

Erestor’s eyes brightened somewhat, seeing Glorfindel still wore his ring. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

“I only need to close my eyes and see you – truly see, like you were last night, passionate and so alive.” Glorfindel caressed Erestor’s face and was deeply touched when the other Elf leaned in closer to savor the caress. “Will you wait for me?”

“I will,” vowed Erestor. “There never was another one, Glorfindel. You hold my heart for all eternity.”

The soldiers were growing restless and impatient, waiting for their leader, and Glorfindel realized he couldn’t draw this out any longer. It was time to say his goodbyes and mount Asfaloth. “Will you allow me one more token?” Erestor’s eyes asked so much and Glorfindel’s heart contracted with sweet pain, wishing they had revealed their feelings much earlier. “A lock of your hair?” Erestor nodded once and Glorfindel uncovered his dagger to carefully cut a lock from Erestor’s dark mane. He kissed the silken hair and then carefully slipped his treasure into a pocket.

“Go now,” said Erestor, realizing their parting would only become more painful the longer they lingered here. “And then come back to me again.”

“Aye, to you.” Glorfindel forced a smile onto his face. He drew in a deep breath, placed a last kiss on Erestor’s lips and then turned to join the soldiers. He mounted Asfaloth, and steered the stallion away from Erestor so he could take his rightful place at the head of the party. Lifting his hand in goodbye, he sought out Erestor’s dark, swimming eyes one last time, vowing to return to his beloved.

Erestor felt weak in the knees as a memory of last night’s nightmare came back to haunt him. Suddenly Elrond’s arm was wrapped around him in support, and as he looked at the half-Elf, he found the gray eyes swimming. His friend was also hurting, watching his beloved sons leave for Helm’s Deep and Erestor suddenly felt guilty for not consoling the healer. “They will return to us, my friend.”

“Have you foreseen that?” Elrond desperately wanted to know for certain that his heirs would return to him, but his foresight had revealed nothing to him.

“I have not seen their deaths,” said Erestor eventually, staring at the party which quickly grew smaller. “Take heart, my friend.”

“But you saw Glorfindel’s,” said Elrond, who now wrapped his other arm around Arwen. She stood close to him, trying hard not to cry. “Erestor… What happened between Glorfindel and you?” He had watched their bittersweet goodbye with much surprise.

“I told him I loved him,” admitted Erestor in a forced, calm voice. There was no need for Elrond to know what had transpired in Glorfindel’s rooms last night. “And he returns my feelings.”

“Oh, my friend, I am so sorry…” Elrond held both Elves close. Erestor allowed it, but reluctantly, whilst Arwen leaned against him for comfort.

“Even if he does not return to me, he will know how much I loved him,” said Erestor in a choked voice. “We should go inside now; there is much to be done.” He needed to occupy himself in order to take his mind off of Glorfindel.

Elrond thankfully understood, allowed the distraction, and guided both Elves into the Last Homely House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following weeks were nothing but torment for Erestor. All he could think of was Glorfindel and on several occasions he found himself standing in the blond’s office or quarters. In retrospect, he realized he had made things even more complicated for himself by going to Glorfindel that last night. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. Maybe he wouldn’t be hurting as much as he was now if he had managed to keep his distance that night. But, now he *did* have the memory of that one night in which they had made love. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much now.

On one of his prior visits he had taken an emerald-colored ribbon from Glorfindel’s dresser with him, which the warrior had worn in his hair in the past. He had kept it close ever since, uncovering it when he needed to feel some sort of connection to the blond.

At night, he folded it around his wrist or wove it into his raven hair. During the day, he kept it safe in the folds of his robes, and whenever he needed to touch it, he did. Glorfindel had asked him for a lock of his hair before departing for Helm’s Deep and now Erestor wished he had asked for a lock in return.

Shakily, he suddenly reached for his heart. A slicing pain moved through him and tears appeared in his eyes. Pure agony caused him to double over and he yelped softly – calling out Glorfindel’s name. Oh, what was happening to him? He was feeling someone else’s pain, but he didn’t possess such a strong connection with Glorfindel! So how could this be?

He closed his eyes in an effort to focus so he could battle the pain, but he began wheezing instead, fighting to draw in his next breath. A part of his mind, however, remained calm, and told him the Elven archers had long reached Helm’s Deep by now. Had the Evil One attacked the keep and was he sensing Glorfindel’s pain? But how was that possible?

Another scream – high-pitched and full of pain – left his lips and he wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to keep himself upright. He was about to tumble forward and hit the floor when the door unexpectedly opened and Elrond stormed inside.

“Erestor? What ails you?” Elrond sat down at Erestor’s side and enfolded the shaky advisor in his arms, offering all the support his friend needed.

Erestor shook violently and tasted the coppery tang of blood on his lips. Shocked, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, revealing blood-stained lips to him. “El… rond?” He was panicking and his wide eyes fastened on the healer. “What… is happening… to me?”

Realizing he needed to appear calm and in control, Elrond pressed Erestor close against him, holding him tight and offering the advisor, who felt icy cold beneath his touch, his body heat. “Did you bond with Glorfindel?”

Erestor shook his head. “Nay…” To his knowledge no bond had formed the night they had made love, but he couldn’t be completely certain. They had made *love*. It had been more than lust.

Elrond decided against moving Erestor to the healing wing just yet, judging it best that his friend stayed on the bed instead of moving him about. “Then ride it out.”

Fat tears of pain left Erestor’s panic-stricken eyes and he leaned heavily against Elrond. The pain intensified and he let out a keening wail. Next, everything turned dark around him and he collapsed against Elrond.

Thankfully Elrond already had a firm hold on Erestor and he held on tightly when his friend lost consciousness. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, knowing instinctively that Erestor’s nightmare had come true and that Glorfindel’s fëa had left for the Halls of Waiting. Rocking Erestor gently, he waited for the pain to find him as well, but when it didn’t come, he suspected his sons were alive and well. “Thank the Valar for that,” he whispered. His sons might be safe, but they had obviously lost Glorfindel.

“Adar? I heard a scream and…” Arwen’s eyes widened in concern, finding Erestor unconscious and with blood-stained lips. “What happened here?”

“Glorfindel… The battle at Helm’s Deep claimed his life,” said Elrond, melancholy. “I never knew Erestor and Glorfindel shared a bond, but apparently they do, and he experienced Glorfindel’s demise. We need to take Erestor to the healing wing where I can properly tend to him. Help me, Arwen.”

She was jolted into action, seeing Elrond struggle to his feet whilst gently maneuvering Erestor’s heavy form. Arwen assisted her father until Elrond had a firm hold on Erestor. The healer then lifted Erestor in his arms and carried him out of the room, preceded by Arwen, who opened the doors for him.

Concerned for Erestor’s health, Elrond searched his face, which was relaxed in a deep sleep. /I had no idea a bond connected them./ And Erestor’s reaction told him that the advisor hadn’t known either.

“Adar, here.” Arwen had opened the door to one of the smaller rooms located in the healing wing and pushed back the covers of the bed so her father could lay Erestor down. “I will fetch warm water and a wash cloth.”

“Bring hot water for tea and healing herbs as well,” instructed Elrond. He sat down on the side of the bed and loosened Erestor’s robes. “Erestor, I will take good care of you, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arwen stood near the doorway and watched her father as he wiped the blood from Erestor’s lips. “Will he be well again?”

“I hope so.” Elrond placed the wash cloth aside and pulled the warm blanket up to Erestor’s shoulder. He had removed the formal robes, but had left the leggings and undershirt in place. “I do not know how Erestor will react upon awakening.”

“Did you say that…” Arwen wrung her hands in nervousness. “Did you say that he experienced Glorfindel’s death? Does that mean… Glorfindel, is he really…?” She didn’t dare speak the words.

“I am afraid so,” whispered Elrond, lowering his eyes in pain. “Glorfindel is dead. We lost him.”

“And… my brothers? What about them?” Arwen slowly approached the bed, and rested a hand gently on her father’s shoulder. “Do you sense them? Are they still alive?”

“I think so,” said Elrond eventually.

“They must be alive!” Learning that Glorfindel had died caused Arwen great pain, but she worried most about her brothers. Losing all three of them would be devastating and much too high a price. /Nay,/ she corrected herself, /Losing Glorfindel is too high a price to pay already./

“Someone should sit with Erestor at all times,” decreed Elrond. “I will sit with him for a few more hours. Relieve me when the morn comes.”

“I will.” Arwen soundlessly shuffled over to the doorway, mourning their loss and fervently hoping that Erestor would find a way to deal with Glorfindel’s death. She hadn’t realized they loved each other that profoundly!

Elrond stayed seated on the bed and took Erestor’s hand in his, softly rubbing the chilly flesh, determined to be at his friend’s side when the advisor regained consciousness. The healer in him knew how greatly Erestor would need him in the time to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor’s eyes still swam but didn’t release any tears. The blank stare was directed at the ceiling and Elrond occasionally managed to force a few droplets of herbal tea down his friend’s throat. Although he was thoroughly worried for Erestor’s well-being, he also realized that his friend was entitled to whatever time he needed to begin dealing with the loss.

Hours passed by and Arwen regularly relieved her father, sitting with Erestor and cradling his cool hand in between hers. She sang softly to him, hoping her voice had a calming effect on him.

Elrond had taken his turn at Erestor’s side once more and was coaxing the still Elf to drink some fresh water when the stare in the brown eyes broke and life returned to them. Involuntarily he held his breath, wondering what kind of emotional state Erestor was in. He didn’t know what to expect, screaming, sobbing, hysterics, but he was mentally prepared for whatever behavior Erestor would display. The calm that radiated from Erestor’s face however, took him aback, as it was the one reaction he hadn’t really anticipated. “Erestor?” Elrond moved from his chair onto the side of the bed and stroked long strands of raven hair away from Erestor’s face.

“It still hurts,” whispered Erestor, obviously in great pain, but desperately trying to control the raging emotions inside him. “It hurts here.” He pointed at the left side of his chest. “My heart hurts.”

Elrond briefly lowered his eyes, feeling lost for words, but then he drew from his strength and said, “Your heart will never feel whole again, my friend.”

Erestor’s gaze slowly shifted until it came to rest on the half-Elf, remembering that the Lord of Imladris had suffered the same fate in the past when Elrond had lost Ereinion and Celebrían. “How did you deal with it?” Vaguely he wondered how it was possible that he reacted this calmly, this controlled, but then again, he wasn’t one to give way to hysterics or drama.

Elrond delicately licked his lips. “It takes time, Erestor. The passing of time eases the pain, but the heartache never completely goes away. It is still a part of me, even today.”

Erestor pushed himself into an upright position and rested his back against the headboard of the bed. “Does the pain lessen with the passing of time?”

“It does – marginally,” said Elrond, honestly. “You will find a way to deal with it, Erestor, like I did.”

“I knew he was going to die in Helm’s Deep,” said Erestor in a puzzled voice, “And yet the impact is devastating.” He uncovered the emerald-colored ribbon from the folds of his midnight-blue robes and let his fingertips caress the silk. “It is hard to believe that I will never see him again – or hear his voice. I had hoped he would return to me. Such folly.” Erestor released a deep sigh. The pain was sharp and intense, but manageable. Long millennia of discipline allowed him to control it. “I would like to be alone for a few moments.”

“But of course.” Realizing that Erestor was fighting back his tears because he wanted to shed them in private, Elrond rose from the bed and headed for the doorway. “Call me whenever you have need for me.”

“I will,” promised Erestor, who felt relieved, hearing the door close behind Elrond. Tears, which he had refused to release in Elrond’s presence, now flowed down his cheeks. “Glorfindel, why did you leave me?” His vision had warned him and yet he had gone to the blond warrior to make love to him. He had no one to blame but himself for the sea of pain he was drowning in.

“What do I do now? How can I possibly continue without him?” Erestor closed his eyes, wiped away the tears, and rubbed the ribbon between his fingertips. Glorfindel would want him to go on, to live each day to the fullest, because that was how the warrior had lived his life. “But I do not want to be alone.”

He pressed his right hand against his chest, as if trying to calm his pounding heart. The pain that radiated from deep within his chest felt incredibly real, as if he had carried away an injury himself. And hadn’t he? Hadn’t he lost Glorfindel? The only Elf he had ever loved?

“Erestor? May I enter? Please?” Arwen hesitantly appeared in the doorway, uncertain if Erestor would allow her in. Her eyes were red from crying and her hands shook slightly. “Adar told me what happened – that we lost Glorfindel. I… I… I am so sorry, Erestor.”

Erestor instinctively opened his arms for her and she flung herself at him, burying him in a deep and intimate embrace. Erestor tucked her head beneath his chin and stroked the long hair. He had comforted her countless times in the past and it didn’t surprise him that she now came to him when he needed consoling. “We must remember the good times,” he said eventually. “We cannot give in to despair. He would not want that.”

“You are so much stronger than I am!” Arwen lifted her wet face and stared into Erestor’s eyes, seeing several teardrops leaving the brown orbs. “If I had lost Estel…” She wasn’t certain she would want to continue living, regardless of the fact that Estel would have wanted her to. “I will lend you all the strength you will ever need,” she vowed, passionately.

Erestor stroked her hair and smiled sorrowfully at her. “Thank you, Arwen.” How could he possibly reject this gift from the heart? His gaze shifted to the doorway when Elrond reappeared, looking worried and tired. “Elrond?”

Hearing his name, the half-Elf approached, and he allowed for a weak smile to surface on his face. He searched Erestor’s dark eyes, which had stopped spilling tears, and in its place an amazing strength had appeared. Elrond seated himself on the side of the bed and observed his daughter who was holding Erestor tightly. “How do you fare now, Erestor?”

“Glorfindel’s death still greatly pains me,” whispered Erestor; merely speaking the words caused the gaping wound in his heart to widen further. “But I will honor his memory and face the loss. He would not want me to fall prey to despair.”

Elrond claimed Erestor’s hand and softly rubbed the long fingers. Minute tremors that shook Erestor’s frame betrayed the other Elf’s upset state. “You are right, you know. Glorfindel would want you to carry on in the hope that you will find happiness again.”

Erestor swallowed convulsively, knowing very well that Elrond’s words were meant to comfort him, but how was he supposed to ever feel happy again? The light that had illuminated his life had gone out and it had left him feeling cold and naked.

“You are not alone,” said Arwen, gently. “You have Adar and me, and upon their return, Elladan and Elrohir will support you as well.”

Erestor smothered the sting of jealousy and hatred which flared at being reminded of the fact that the twins had survived whilst Glorfindel had died. He chided himself privately for his anger at their happiness, knowing very well that Elrond would have been shattered had he lost his sons. /I am stronger,/ he realized, surprised. /I will find a way to carry this pain with me for the rest of my life. I won’t fade because Glorfindel would not have allowed it. I will fight. I will survive./

Elrond read determination in Erestor’s eyes and felt grateful, realizing his friend would remain with the living and not leave them. His heart would have carried an even deeper wound if he had lost Erestor as well. “We are your family, Erestor.”

Erestor nodded once. Aye, they were his family, but they could never replace the lover he had lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days passed by without meaning. Erestor returned to his duties in an attempt to dull his pain, but the hours crept by and the pain never really left him. Sometimes, he sought out the comfort of Glorfindel’s rooms, walking about and occasionally touching the warrior’s personal belongings. He was grateful that Elrond had decided to leave the rooms undisturbed; it meant he could come here whenever his heart called out to the warrior.

“I wish I could offer you more support and find ways to help you deal with this immense loss,” said Elrond, who stood in the doorway, watching his friend. Erestor hadn’t appeared for dinner and Elrond had instinctively known where he would find his elusive advisor. He covered the distance between them and opened his arms invitingly. Erestor only hesitated for one moment, and then moved into the embrace.

“I still sense his presence here,” said Erestor, sighing softly. “His very scent still lingers here and when I close my eyes I hear his voice and his sparkling laughter.”

“I know, Erestor, I know how much it hurts. I still hear Ereinion’s voice in my dreams.” Elrond rocked Erestor gently in his arms. “Your strength amazes me, my friend, and I can only hope it will never desert you.”

“Is there any news yet from Elladan and Elrohir?” Erestor forced himself to pull away and to make eye contact with the half-Elf.

“They are on their way home.” The One Ring had been destroyed and peace slowly returned to all Elven realms, but the price had been high. Hundreds of Elves had died at Helm’s Deep; among them the valiant Haldir of ‘Lorien. Elrond knew the sacrifice had been worth making, but losing Glorfindel had hit him the hardest. When Glorfindel had requested to join the marching Elves, he had allowed it, confident that the Captain would survive and return to them. In those days, he had never thought they could lose him. “And they bring Legolas with them.”

Erestor nodded once. “We should ready guest rooms for him then.” Arranging for this would take his mind off of Glorfindel and keep him busy.

Elrond caressed Erestor’s face. “I am not certain this is an appropriate offer to make, but if you would prefer to make these rooms your home I would make them available to you.” To his surprise, Erestor shook his head, slowly, but determinedly.

“Nay, I cannot dwell and drown in the past. If I bury myself in these rooms I will never emerge from them again. They would become my living tomb.”

“You are wise, Erestor,” replied Elrond, truly touched by Erestor’s words.

“Glorfindel would not want me to bury myself in here. He would tell me to venture outside and be with the ones I love.” A weak smile appeared on the advisor’s face. “And you do mean a lot to me, you and your children.”

“Never doubt you are loved, Erestor, and that you are a part of my family.” Elrond searched Erestor’s hooded eyes and then asked, “Would you like to stay here a little longer or join us in the Hall of Fire? You are missed.”

Erestor nodded once; regardless of where he was, he would always carry this pain, this loss with him and it mattered little if he was surrounded by his family or alone in Glorfindel’s rooms. “I will join you.”

Pleased, Elrond took hold of Erestor’s arm and guided his friend into the corridor. The healer knew only too well that it would take Erestor centuries, if not millennia, to work through the loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arwen scooted closer to Erestor, who was seated to her right, and reached for one of his hands beneath the table.

Mildly surprised, Erestor gently squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. He should have known that she needed him to be the strong one. She had always looked toward him for support and strength, ever since she had been a toddler, following him around. “I am coping,” he said, eventually, in an attempt to reassure her. He could clearly see the worry in her eyes when she looked at him. “Your presence helps.” Her eyes brightened at that.

“I am glad you joined us tonight. I do not want you to be alone or feel lonely.”

Elrond had overheard Arwen’s words and said, “Sometimes silence and solitude have a healing influence on us. We need to do whatever helps us to feel better.”

“Of course,” said Arwen, quickly. “I am merely worried.”

Erestor rubbed her fingers between his fingertips. /And for that, I love you, Arwen Undomiel./ She was the daughter he would never have and Arwen would always hold a special place in his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erestor found himself seated on Glorfindel’s bed in the dead of night without any idea of how he had gotten there. Had he started to sleepwalk? He had never done so before. But he had never suffered from a broken heart either. He smoothed the silken sheets, which only bore a hint of the warrior’s scent nowadays. Several weeks had passed since he had sensed Glorfindel’s death and the twins and Legolas were scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Erestor had mixed feelings about greeting them.

Succumbing to exhaustion and temptation, Erestor lay down on the bed, rolling himself into the sheet. Erestor pulled the soft fabric close, closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, in search of Glorfindel’s scent. He missed his beloved terribly and his heart bled, but he managed to maintain a dignified façade when Elrond and Arwen were close.

Tomorrow, he would have to wage another battle to maintain his front. Elladan and Elrohir would return to Imladris, painfully reminding him of his loss. /I wonder if they witnessed Glorfindel’s death. If they saw him fall./

But tomorrow was tomorrow and he had to get through the night first. Closing his eyes in an effort to shut out his emotional pain he tried to fall asleep, failing miserably. His heart still hurt; the pain that had assaulted him on the day of Glorfindel’s death had never left him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother? I do not know how to tell Erestor.” Elladan exchanged a worried look with his twin, also noticing Legolas’ concerned expression.

Elrohir sighed, deeply, and took in Imladris’ lovely silhouette displayed against the darkening sky. Arien was setting, but he was confident they would arrive at the Last Homely House within the next thirty minutes. “I do not know how either, but I trust we will find a way.”

Legolas, riding next to Elladan, caught the twin’s gaze. “Glorfindel fought bravely and his death was a tragedy. I hope Erestor will find a way to accept Glorfindel’s demise without fading himself.” He had met Erestor on several occasions and liked the Chief Advisor. Nonetheless, he had been surprised to learn that Erestor and Glorfindel had declared their love for each other on the day the Captain had left for Helm’s Deep. Somehow, he had never thought of them as lovers, as they were as different as night and day.

The three warriors rode in silence until they entered the courtyard. It was Elrohir who first noticed the welcoming party and greeted them. “Adar! Arwen!” His features briefly contorted, seeing the pained expression Erestor failed to hide. “And Erestor…” Oh, these next few minutes were going to be hard on all of them.

“My sons!” Unable to wait patiently for them to reach him, Elrond ran toward them.

Elladan and Elrohir quickly dismounted and whilst the elder of the twins hugged their father close, Elrohir embraced Arwen, who had come running toward them. “It is good to be home,” whispered Elrohir into his sister’s ear. But they wouldn’t remain in Imladris for long, as they would escort their sister to Minas Tirith where she would wed Estel and become the Queen of Gondor.

Whilst the twins were busy greeting their family, Legolas had dismounted and advanced on Erestor, carrying a large object which had been wrapped up in his riding cloak. He searched the large, dark eyes and saw the tears the advisor refused to shed. Acting on instinct, he grasped the other Elf’s forearm and held him close. During their journey home, the twins had worried about telling Erestor, and so Legolas had decided to perform this task himself. “Will you walk with me, Erestor? I have much to tell you.”

Realizing Legolas want to talk to him in private, Erestor accepted and nodded once. “Follow me into the gardens, then.” He exchanged a quick look of welcome with the twins and then guided Legolas toward the gardens. “It is good to know they survived and are home once more. His father greatly worried about them.”

“And I reckon you did too.” Legolas cast a quick look around the gardens and guided Erestor toward a magnificently carved bench. “Sit with me whilst we talk.” He carefully placed the object he had been carrying on the grass near his feet.

Erestor eagerly complied, as he already felt shaky, realizing he would shortly learn how Glorfindel had died. He seated himself next to Legolas and folded his hands in his lap. “Tell me then.”

Legolas turned toward Erestor and found the dark-haired Elf had lowered his eyes. “You loved Glorfindel and he returned those feelings.”

“I told him the morn he left for Helm’s Deep. Wish I had done so earlier.” Erestor shyly met Legolas’ gaze. “I wasted so much time. Time, which we could have spent in happiness instead.”

“We cannot change the past,” said Legolas, thoughtfully. “During the Quest I learned to accept that we have very little influence on the things that happen to us. At times I felt like a leaf, being blown in several directions, all at the same time. When we lost Mithrandir, I grieved, and I realized how quickly death can come for us immortals.”

Erestor clung to every word Legolas spoke and his eyes begged the Prince to tell him about Glorfindel.

“When Glorfindel joined us in Helm’s Deep he brought hope with him. Haldir and he fought valiantly, but I could save neither of them. Haldir was too far away from me and I could not reach him in time.” Legolas closed his eyes, reliving the moment a sword had cleaved Haldir’s back in two. “He was beautiful, that one. Beautiful and brave. So many died that night.”

“What about… Glorfindel?” Erestor wrung his hands, and valiantly fought back his tears. Did he really want to know how his beloved had died? Aye, he did. He needed to know.

“Glorfindel fought at the twins’ side, but sometime during the battle we were separated. His golden hair shone from a distance and we found courage in the fact that he was fighting in the front line, slaying so many of our enemies.” Legolas’ azure eyes opened and fastened on Erestor. “He fought so bravely, Erestor, and saved the lives of many.”

“How did he die?” Erestor pleadingly stared at Legolas. “What do you know?”

“I saw him fall from a distance. Neither the twins nor I were close at the time. It was madness, Erestor, and we had to fall back.” Legolas reached instinctively for Erestor, seeing the shoulders shake with emotion and he drew the raven-haired Elf in for a close embrace. “You must understand… We could not venture out for a while and once we did, the keep was covered with corpses. Théoden’s men collected the dead and they were placed upon a pyre. Men and Elves together. We did not have the time to sort them out and…”

Tears escaped Erestor’s eyes. “You were unable to give him a proper funeral?”

”I am afraid so.” Legolas took Erestor’s clammy hands in his and rubbed the trembling fingers. “But, I managed to rescue something for you.” He had to let go in order to reach for his traveling cloak. Peeling the fabric away, metal shone in Ithil’s silver beams.

Erestor recognized the object at once. “Glorfindel’s sword.” Reverently, his hands reached for it, and Legolas placed the sword across his lap so he could touch it. The truth hit him hard then; Glorfindel would never allow himself to be separated from his sword. “He is dead, then.”

Legolas was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? What words would offer Erestor comfort? “He fought bravely, Erestor, and saved many lives. Try to find comfort in that.”

Erestor angrily wiped at his tears, as he didn’t want to show his pain this openly. “Thank you, Legolas. Thank you for bringing me his sword.”

Legolas moistened his lips, uncertain how Erestor would receive his next words. “If you ever want to visit Helm’s Deep to pay Glorfindel your last respects, tell me and I will take you there.”

“Again, I need to offer you my thanks,” said Erestor, deeply touched. “But right now, I am… I am trying to accept… to cope with…” Words failed him then and he turned away from Legolas, not wanting to burden the Woodland Elf with his pain.

“There is no need to turn away from me. I have seen much pain these last few months and I do not want to see more of it. Please, do not lock me out when I am here to offer you comfort.” Legolas opened his arms and snaked them around Erestor’s shoulders, slowly pulling the other Elf close. “I cried when Mithrandir died, but I did it in solitude, thinking the others would not want to see my pain. But then Gimli came to me and took me into his arms. It was the strangest thing, allowing a Dwarf to comfort me, but we grew close that moment.” Erestor allowed the embrace and Legolas carefully pulled the other Elf close. “Do not turn me away when all I want to do is help.”

Incapable of speech, Erestor accepted Legolas’ offer and savored the other Elf’s closeness. “You have my eternal gratitude for telling me about his last moments and for returning his sword to me.”

“You are entitled to have his sword,” said Legolas, whispering into Erestor’s ear. “You were his beloved.”

“Only for one night and a morn,” whispered Erestor, saddened.

“I do not think so,” said Legolas, pulling away slightly so he could make eye contact with Erestor. “On the night before the battle we spoke, and when he told me about you, his eyes filled with love and dedication. His emotions were intense. You might have shared only one night in each other’s arms, but you loved each other for much longer.”

“He told you about that night?” Stunned, Erestor stared into Legolas’ sapphire eyes, which reminded him of his lost love.

“He did. He needed someone to talk to, and the twins were too focused on each other. Haldir and Estel had gone off to discuss tactics and I remained.” Legolas gently wiped away Erestor’s tears. “He loved you. He truly loved you.”

“If only he had not died.” Erestor, finally able to compose himself again, pulled away from Legolas. Tenderly, his fingertips caressed the tip of Glorfindel’s sword – his beloved’s legacy. “This is all I have left of him.” And he would keep the sword forever for it would remind him of a love found and lost.

The End

July 2004