Darthol i Aur: Enduring the Sunlight

Beta: Khylaren, Ilye

chapter three

Glorfindel sat on his balcony, staring out into the darkness. Darkness. Eyes the color of midnight and hair that reminded him of a starless sky.

Erestor.

A word. An Elf. And so much more to him than he realized.

Could he simply turn his back on their friendship? Had Erestor truly betrayed him?

Aye, he had. Glorfindel continued to sip his wine and glare into the darkness before him.

"You have wounded him, my Lord."

Glorfindel whipped his head around, his eyes wide as he took in the fair sight of his Lady.

"Aye, I can be just as silent as any warrior. Come, we must speak."

Glorfindel nodded and stood, returning to the main room of his suite and sitting across from Celebrían. "I am not sure what you would wish to speak to me of."

Celebrían smiled, her sky blue eyes dark and deep. "Aye, I think you do know."

"I do not wish to discuss him," he said, looking away from the ever-calm face of his Lady.

"I did not ask what you wished, Glorfindel," Celebrían said, and though her smile never faded from her face, her tone had become hard. "You will sit there and you will listen to me. Though I love you as much as I ever have, you have brought grievous harm upon one whom I call 'gwador', and we must have words, my Lord."

Glorfindel's jaw twitched, but he nodded his assent. "Very well, my Lady. Where shall we begin?"

"I want you to understand that what Elrond and I offer Erestor we do so of our own free will. He has not bewitched us, he has not seduced me, and there is no sexual relationship between Erestor and myself or Erestor and Elrond. We are healers, and Erestor is in need of much healing." Celebrían drew back the long sleeve of her gown and revealed a white bandage around her wrist.

"Healing? You are trying to return him to what he was?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes trained on the slender wrist.

Celebrían shook her head. "Warriors, do you only think of the physical? My Lord, there is more to healing than blood and bones, skin and herbs. There is a deep wound in Erestor, one filled with such darkness and shame, and that is the wound my husband and I try to heal."

Glorfindel scoffed. "By allowing him to... to..." He could not even speak the words, his distaste evident in his features.

"He comes to one of us every three days, his head bowed in disgrace and his eyes never meet ours during the entire exchange. Erestor is a proud Elf, he is an honorable Elf, and for him to need this is beyond him," she said, her voice softening.

"How did this begin?" Glorfindel asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Celebrían chuckled. "How it all began? We were guests here, remember? Adar, Naneth and I. The moment he bowed before me, I knew something was different about him, as did Nana. We spoke with him later, and he did confess a portion of his past. Nana knew him from her time in Aman, and her heart grieved at his loss. It was only after our bonding that Elrond was told of Erestor's... condition. We agreed to help him, since he was barely surviving on the animals he hunted in the woods." Celebrían chewed her lip absently for a moment. "It was I who first offered it to him. Elrond was unsure, but I could not see Erestor suffer any longer."

"Suffer? He preyed on the living; what suffering had he?" the Elda asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"Glorfindel, this behavior does not become you," Celebrían admonished. "Erestor suffers. He is ashamed of his needs. And what he lives off is now freely given, not taken," she said, the smile returning to her face. "It pleases me, and it pleases Elrond, to have such a close relationship with Erestor. He is family to us. A parent to our children, and a brother to us."

Glorfindel silently regarded Celebrían in the dim light of the lamps. He still tried to understand where his anger came from, why this new facet of his friend upset him so. "He bites you."

Celebrían shook her head. "Nay, he does not." She unwound the bandage from her wrist and presented the wound to Glorfindel. It was a thin, single line, drawn over the pale blue veins of her wrist. "I use a blade, as does Elrond, when Erestor comes to us."

"Why?"

She blinked, as if not prepared for the question. "Well, as Erestor explains it, to... bite," she stumbled, blushing slightly. "To bite is a very intimate act to him, one he only desires to do with a lover. At least, when taking sustenance and not to kill."

"To kill. Which is what he did before you and Elrond offered yourselves to him," Glorfindel said, curling his lip. "He is no Elf, Celebrían. No Elf would do as he has."

Celebrían's eyes darkened and her lips frowned. "He is an Elf, Glorfindel, same as you. He is hurt by your words and by your disgust. For one who claimed to love him as no other, you treat him with no love at all."

Glorfindel had the grace to flush at the accusation. "He has lied to me."

"How? How has he lied?" she asked, crossing her arms. In that moment, Glorfindel could have sworn he was looking into Galadriel's eyes, not Celebrían's. "Because he did not tell you a secret he is ashamed of? Well, if that is what counts as a lie, then you are as guilty as he."

"I know not what you mean," Glorfindel replied. "I am honorable and there is nothing I hide from him."

Celebrían tilted her head to the side. "Have you shown him the mark of the Balrog upon your neck?"

Glorfindel stared with wide eyes, and silence was his only response.

"I see. You have not. Why, Glorfindel?"

"It is a painful memory, one I do not wish to recall often," he said in a tight voice.

"Aye. And his pain is just as near, just as real, my Lord. Does that mean you have lied to him all these centuries?" she asked, standing from her chair.

Glorfindel's eyes were trained on the hem of her gown, his vision blurring. "No."

"Does knowing his hurts make him any less to your heart?" Her voice was soft in his ears and she placed her hand on his cheek, the mark of Erestor's feeding before his eyes.

"No."

She knelt before him, her eyes large and bright, and her lips pink and curved into a loving smile. "Erestor's wounds run deep. Do not leave him the dark, without your brightness to light his way. He needs you, more than he needs Elrond or I."

Erestor's eyes were closed, his mind awash with sorrow. "He will never speak to me again, Elrond."

A warm hand touched his chilled brow and Elrond continued to stroke Erestor's long, silken locks. "Celebrían is speaking with him, gwador," he said, looking down into the pale face cradled in his lap. "She will make him see sense."

"Sense? What sense is there?" Erestor sat up, drawing away from his friend. "I am a beast -- nothing more."

Elrond's stormy gaze darkened. "You are much more, and you know this. You are not a beast; you an Elf of Aman, one who saw the light of the Two Trees-"

"An Elf who never see his home again!" Erestor broke in. "When all of you leave this plain and return to that bright land, I will be here. I will be here long after Man has left and the earth is old and tired, and though I will live just as long as you, I will be alone." Erestor looked away. "Alone with him."

"Maglor did what he did to save you," Elrond said quietly.

Erestor's dark eyes met Elrond's, hatred shining in their black depths. "He should have let me die."

Elrond stood, walking toward the door. "Your tale was not over, Erestor. You had much work to do; you still have much to do. You are needed."

"And when I am needed no more?" the Noldo asked, his head bowed.

Elrond sighed and opened the door, and stood face to face with Glorfindel. "Erestor, I believe you have a guest."


	Navigation multi-story arcs previous next Translations gwador - sworn brother		Darthol i Aur: Enduring the Sunlight Beta: Khylaren, Ilye chapter three Glorfindel sat on his balcony, staring out into the darkness. Darkness. Eyes the color of midnight and hair that reminded him of a starless sky. Erestor. A word. An Elf. And so much more to him than he realized. Could he simply turn his back on their friendship? Had Erestor truly betrayed him? Aye, he had. Glorfindel continued to sip his wine and glare into the darkness before him. "You have wounded him, my Lord." Glorfindel whipped his head around, his eyes wide as he took in the fair sight of his Lady. "Aye, I can be just as silent as any warrior. Come, we must speak." Glorfindel nodded and stood, returning to the main room of his suite and sitting across from Celebrían. "I am not sure what you would wish to speak to me of." Celebrían smiled, her sky blue eyes dark and deep. "Aye, I think you do know." "I do not wish to discuss him," he said, looking away from the ever-calm face of his Lady. "I did not ask what you wished, Glorfindel," Celebrían said, and though her smile never faded from her face, her tone had become hard. "You will sit there and you will listen to me. Though I love you as much as I ever have, you have brought grievous harm upon one whom I call 'gwador', and we must have words, my Lord." Glorfindel's jaw twitched, but he nodded his assent. "Very well, my Lady. Where shall we begin?" "I want you to understand that what Elrond and I offer Erestor we do so of our own free will. He has not bewitched us, he has not seduced me, and there is no sexual relationship between Erestor and myself or Erestor and Elrond. We are healers, and Erestor is in need of much healing." Celebrían drew back the long sleeve of her gown and revealed a white bandage around her wrist. "Healing? You are trying to return him to what he was?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes trained on the slender wrist. Celebrían shook her head. "Warriors, do you only think of the physical? My Lord, there is more to healing than blood and bones, skin and herbs. There is a deep wound in Erestor, one filled with such darkness and shame, and that is the wound my husband and I try to heal." Glorfindel scoffed. "By allowing him to... to..." He could not even speak the words, his distaste evident in his features. "He comes to one of us every three days, his head bowed in disgrace and his eyes never meet ours during the entire exchange. Erestor is a proud Elf, he is an honorable Elf, and for him to need this is beyond him," she said, her voice softening. "How did this begin?" Glorfindel asked, leaning forward in his seat. Celebrían chuckled. "How it all began? We were guests here, remember? Adar, Naneth and I. The moment he bowed before me, I knew something was different about him, as did Nana. We spoke with him later, and he did confess a portion of his past. Nana knew him from her time in Aman, and her heart grieved at his loss. It was only after our bonding that Elrond was told of Erestor's... condition. We agreed to help him, since he was barely surviving on the animals he hunted in the woods." Celebrían chewed her lip absently for a moment. "It was I who first offered it to him. Elrond was unsure, but I could not see Erestor suffer any longer." "Suffer? He preyed on the living; what suffering had he?" the Elda asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Glorfindel, this behavior does not become you," Celebrían admonished. "Erestor suffers. He is ashamed of his needs. And what he lives off is now freely given, not taken," she said, the smile returning to her face. "It pleases me, and it pleases Elrond, to have such a close relationship with Erestor. He is family to us. A parent to our children, and a brother to us." Glorfindel silently regarded Celebrían in the dim light of the lamps. He still tried to understand where his anger came from, why this new facet of his friend upset him so. "He bites you." Celebrían shook her head. "Nay, he does not." She unwound the bandage from her wrist and presented the wound to Glorfindel. It was a thin, single line, drawn over the pale blue veins of her wrist. "I use a blade, as does Elrond, when Erestor comes to us." "Why?" She blinked, as if not prepared for the question. "Well, as Erestor explains it, to... bite," she stumbled, blushing slightly. "To bite is a very intimate act to him, one he only desires to do with a lover. At least, when taking sustenance and not to kill." "To kill. Which is what he did before you and Elrond offered yourselves to him," Glorfindel said, curling his lip. "He is no Elf, Celebrían. No Elf would do as he has." Celebrían's eyes darkened and her lips frowned. "He is an Elf, Glorfindel, same as you. He is hurt by your words and by your disgust. For one who claimed to love him as no other, you treat him with no love at all." Glorfindel had the grace to flush at the accusation. "He has lied to me." "How? How has he lied?" she asked, crossing her arms. In that moment, Glorfindel could have sworn he was looking into Galadriel's eyes, not Celebrían's. "Because he did not tell you a secret he is ashamed of? Well, if that is what counts as a lie, then you are as guilty as he." "I know not what you mean," Glorfindel replied. "I am honorable and there is nothing I hide from him." Celebrían tilted her head to the side. "Have you shown him the mark of the Balrog upon your neck?" Glorfindel stared with wide eyes, and silence was his only response. "I see. You have not. Why, Glorfindel?" "It is a painful memory, one I do not wish to recall often," he said in a tight voice. "Aye. And his pain is just as near, just as real, my Lord. Does that mean you have lied to him all these centuries?" she asked, standing from her chair. Glorfindel's eyes were trained on the hem of her gown, his vision blurring. "No." "Does knowing his hurts make him any less to your heart?" Her voice was soft in his ears and she placed her hand on his cheek, the mark of Erestor's feeding before his eyes. "No." She knelt before him, her eyes large and bright, and her lips pink and curved into a loving smile. "Erestor's wounds run deep. Do not leave him the dark, without your brightness to light his way. He needs you, more than he needs Elrond or I." Erestor's eyes were closed, his mind awash with sorrow. "He will never speak to me again, Elrond." A warm hand touched his chilled brow and Elrond continued to stroke Erestor's long, silken locks. "Celebrían is speaking with him, gwador," he said, looking down into the pale face cradled in his lap. "She will make him see sense." "Sense? What sense is there?" Erestor sat up, drawing away from his friend. "I am a beast -- nothing more." Elrond's stormy gaze darkened. "You are much more, and you know this. You are not a beast; you an Elf of Aman, one who saw the light of the Two Trees-" "An Elf who never see his home again!" Erestor broke in. "When all of you leave this plain and return to that bright land, I will be here. I will be here long after Man has left and the earth is old and tired, and though I will live just as long as you, I will be alone." Erestor looked away. "Alone with him." "Maglor did what he did to save you," Elrond said quietly. Erestor's dark eyes met Elrond's, hatred shining in their black depths. "He should have let me die." Elrond stood, walking toward the door. "Your tale was not over, Erestor. You had much work to do; you still have much to do. You are needed." "And when I am needed no more?" the Noldo asked, his head bowed. Elrond sighed and opened the door, and stood face to face with Glorfindel. "Erestor, I believe you have a guest."