So it was that the Gates of Summer had come around. It was both better than in earlier years for the golden elf of Imladris to deal with this day and worse too. Not since the first few years since his re-awakening had he had memories, whole and untarnished, with which to remember the events that took place on that morning ages past. Knowing them intimately from books and songs and the stories told by those others who had been there, but not having his own to paint the vivid pictures in his mind that assailed all of his senses, not just made him saddened for what he had lost.
It had been dreadful when they were fresh and raw back then, made all the worst that he had faced the pain of separation against his own will. They had been too much, the result of his being unable to live with them catastrophic for the one other he would have laid down all to protect. Now though, the very reason he sat thinking of these things at all was here at his side. Whole and breathing again, for which he gave silent thanks to Eru for.
The other residents in the realm had learnt not to disturb him on this day. To leave him be, not because their presence upset him or brought about his anger, but because seeing their strong and cheerful captain devoid of his happy smile and light countenance was painful for all to look upon and he could do naught about that.
As midnight came, wordlessly he had risen from his place where they had been sat together in the living room, a hand out to help the other up also and they had moved through to the balcony in the bedroom, to stand together, each with one hand clasped tightly in the other's and holding a candle to their chest, looking up to the stars in the clear night sky. Glorfindel sought out Earendil, watching as imperceptivity he made his nightly journey across the heavens, a sad smile upon his lips.
It was a long night and not a word was spoken. Light and dark, Anor and Ithil, Flower and Fountain, whatever names were given to the two it mattered not at that time, for they were two who were bound, then as now and the fate which had come between them would not be allowed to ever do so again. Silent tears were upon cheeks and knuckles were white where they held together, but each was lost in their own thoughts, remembering from different perspectives . Perhaps one day, when in the peace of Aman and surrounded by the smiling faces of all who were loved and missed things would be different, but he doubted that this one day would ever have the happiness it held for them before. Nay, sometimes, even if painful, there were things which should never be forgotten.
It was dawn, Anor showing upon the horizon to the East and with a deep breath, loosing hold of hands and stretching stiffened fingers, Ecthelion bent to take up the slim instrument at his side and gracefully brought it to his lips. As the first note sounded, true and clear across the valley, Glorfindel lifted his voice in a song, ancient but remembered still by those who had lived in the once great city in the mountains and together they greeted the Tarnin Austa, with reverence and respect mixed with a hope for the future.