They would travel to Mirkwood. Officially it was for diplomatic business, but Erestor could intuit another motivation for his being asked to accompany Glorfindel, as grey eyes watched him from under half lids. The Captain's mouth was permanently pinched in a worried frown. Erestor did not dare to meet his gaze while the horses moved in their monotonous paces. Instead he stared at what wasn't the sky. The mosaic of leaves hung tangled and cryptic above them and he searched for patterns in the foliage, but he found none. He could faintly hear the trees singing; most probably one of the woodland realm could hear the whole symphony. The few beautiful snippets he heard only served to remind him of his shortcomings, but he continued to seek out the full song of forest. It hurt less then failing to illuminate the shadows of himself and why he could not look at his lover.
But Glorfindel was not afraid. He asked questions he knew the answers to, he laughed desperately, he let his hand idly stroke bare skin, all in vain hope of some reaction. Glorfindel tried to push away the shrouds Erestor had pulled over himself. But Erestor was neither hostile nor cold. He was simply distant, engaging little. When they set up camp the Councilor would look at the Captain as he must, but though those dark eyes would stare into him Glorfindel felt a melancholy absence of feeling. And Erestor could see how it hurt him. Erestor's heart had broken before, more quickly than the Captain's, but he thought it might break again at the sorrow reflected back at him.
In the Elvenking's halls they were greeted grandly and given a shared guestroom. And they did enjoy themselves in a way. They dined on fine foods and drank Dorwinion wine and Glorfindel danced with many. He said that Erestor did not like to dance, which was only a half truth. Erestor loved to dance, but Erestor did not care to dance with him, yet he could not conceive of dancing with anyone else. They would make love twice, veins flowing with alcohol, but the spirit was weak. They fell asleep most nights with the feeling of dread creeping around their hearts like the vines around the dark trees. They would settle into the customary position of lovers, arms wrapped around each other, but when they fell asleep their bodies betrayed them and pushed away from the embrace. Glorfindel folded his arms protectively and clutched at himself in his sleep, searching for something else to hold on to and finding only himself to console. And it was not enough. Erestor would wake to find the sheets damp with his own tears, and he wiped the stains off his face angrily, but he was not surprised. He had cried that first night as well, when Glorfindel had arrived in Imladris. The Captain had been resplendent and shining then and Erestor's heart had swelled with indescribable joy for the return of his love. He had thanked the Valar though he knew they must not have brought him back for his sake. That night he had returned to his own room and waited, wondering if Glorfindel would remember, for he knew little of what happened after death. But he was not disappointed, for Glorfindel soon did appear in the doorway, golden head haloed in the last rays of setting sun. A small smile and Erestor was undone. And their lovemaking had been beautiful, but he had wept afterwards when all was dark. Glorfindel had kissed his cheeks and asked him why he cried so and he had truly thought, and answered, that the tears had been from happiness. Now he knew better. A wound cut by a loss so long ago had been reopened.
After the war they would spend a few years in Ithilien. Erestor thought it would clear both their souls. The grass waved fair and bright and it did indeed drive away dark thoughts to lie upon a hill or lean out a window and feel the fair southern wind upon their countenances. But it did not bring new light either.
Do you recall this sky, Glorfindel asked, hand spread as if by luck an intangible cure would alight in his palm. It is the same under which we fell in love ages past, in Gondolin. But Erestor had shaken his head. No, it is not. Every sky, every day is different. Years have gone and I am different and you are most different of all. Yet I do remember the sun, the warmth of walking hand in hand with you down the streets or in the garden, when I felt my heart could outshine anything. Glorfindel smiled wistfully. They thought you so dark and dreary, but no one could deny how bright you shone on my arm. You were beautiful. You are still beautiful. Erestor sighed, As are you, but if I had fallen in love for beauty we would be the same as we were. I do not want that, but all the same I am sorry. Although he looked away he felt his hand taken now and he did not pull away, for there was no desperation to it this time. Just regret. They could share that.
I am sorry as well, came the whisper in his ear.
They returned to Imladris in the winter. They still shared the same apartment, but it was no longer theirs. Glorfindel's belongings were moved to one side and Erestor's to the other. They made no more pretense of passion, instead they retreated immediately to their respective sides of the bed when the day was done. There was no tension left; perhaps they were weary of trying. They could talk, they could laugh, they could converse. They respected each other, but they did not look at each other and see what they once had seen. Mates, lovers, spouses, these were two souls bound and perfectly attuned to each other. Erestor and Glorfindel had tried for centuries, but they did force two together two pieces that no longer fit.
It is time to go somewhere else, Erestor said one day.
Where shall we go? Erestor, we have gone many places in the thousands of years since our reunion and it has done naught.
I did not mean together.
You wish to go alone?
I hear the sea calling and I should go. Yet, perhaps . . . I cannot keep from feeling I have failed. Our kind loves for eternity and beyond that. And I was blessed to have you returned to me and I could not love what came back.
No, I could not have expected you to love me. The one you loved died long ago and I am sorry we could not accept that. Thousands of years we spent trying to regain what we lost.
And the elves are said to be so wise.
But can you forgive us and forgive me, for how could one not try to regain love as great as we had?
Erestor turned his head and grabbed the tanned face with one palm, kissing him strongly. They parted in finality. Erestor left within the month and Glorfindel did not follow. He had come back for a purpose after all and it had not been to love Erestor, though he would for the remainder of his life.