Me again, updated three stuffs today, this is the third, and, unfortunately, the last of the day. :)
A sweet bit of Glorfindel/Erestor/Estel fluff, with an appearance by Elladan and Elrohir. (Estel is about five in this story, more or less)
Because even the greatest of us have our moments of weakness, and it's important to lift each other back up, and support each other until the last, and to let the little ones know that it's ok to cry sometimes, and that they're not alone.
(please review)
"You were such an amazing warrior, Glorfindel." Estel finished, smiling up at the golden-haired hero adoringly as the two lounged about on the floor in Erestor's study.
"Yes, I suppose I might have been...but it was really Ecthelion who was the amazing one." Glorfindel replied bravely, trying his best to block out all the memories suddenly flooding in without invitation.
"Tell me again about him, he was your closest friend then, was he not?"
"Yes he was, a very dear friend. He took down more Balrogs than I that day, the greatest of those being Gothmog, king of Balrogs, Ecthelion's glory and his bane."
"I want to be just like him someday." Estel sighed dreamily, eyes taking on a faraway look, as if he was already seeing himself vanquishing thousands of enemies, Gothmog included.
Erestor's quill pen stilled over the parchment as he remembered that night on the balcony, that night so long ago when he and Glorfindel had first truly met and became such good friends.
He remembered not being able to sleep, wandering out onto the starlit balcony where he came upon the newly arrived golden-haired warrior crouched on the floor, sobbing softly, rocking back and forth, bathed in the light of the stars, turning his hair from gold to silver.
He remembered doing a very un-Erestor-like thing: he remembered comforting Glorfindel, he remembered putting his arms around the quaking elf, a gesture he had not attempted in centuries.
"You know, Estel," Erestor interrupted from where he was sitting at his desk, glancing at his golden-haired friend over the young boy's head, "being a brave warrior isn't half as easy as it sounds, there is a lot more to it than just courage."
"What do you mean?" Estel wondered, biting his nails absently.
"I mean that no matter how great and brave any warrior may seem, everyone has a heart and spirit to break and crush. Someday, Estel, I believe that you will become a mighty warrior, and your name will be renowned throughout all of Arda. But you will see terrible things, as must all warriors. You will see comrades fall, comrades you dearly love. It will be hard, Estel, and you might come near to breaking, but you must always remember this: The greatest of the heroes, the most renowned in song-Earendil, Turin, Isildur, Glorfindel-they all have secret fears, moments of weakness, tears to shed."
"Does Glorfindel have a secret fear?"
"Of course."
"What is it?"
"Me."
"What?!"
"Just kidding, it's really two actually: fire, and goldfish."
Estel gazed at a blushing Glorfindel with new respect before turning to Erestor.
"'Dan and 'Ro tell me I'm weak when I cry, wait until they hear this! Did Earendil really cry?"
"Sometimes, I'm sure."
Estel smiled triumphantly before taking on a more somber look, "Must I see terrible things?"
"I'm afraid all great warriors must."
"Alright then, when I do I'll be brave, and remember all the great heroes of the past who were scared sometimes to."
"Yes, that is wise, Estel, but" Erestor decided, glancing at Glorfindel, "your brave warrior and I have some important work to do, why don't you go and find the twins?"
"Alright, and I'll tell them about Earendil crying!" Estel called as he vaulted from the room, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.
Once he was gone Glorfindel let his head drop into his hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Silently, like a phantom Erestor rose from his desk, moving to and crouching down next to his friend. A few salty tears dripped down Glorfindel's cheeks, and he choked back a sob, willing the horrible memories to leave him.
"I hate crying." he managed after a few moments, lifting his head and and gazing forlornly at his dark-haired companion, "I don't care if Earendil did it, that doesn't make me like it any more, in fact, I hate it."
"You sound like a little elfling; but it must have been hard, watching Gondolin fall," Erestor consoled, placing a still tentative arm around the broad shoulders before him, "watching as your most closest, most cherished friend ever was killed."
"But he wasn't my most closest, most cherished friend." Glorfindel interrupted, wiping a robed arm across his cheeks.
"Then who was?" Erestor asked, surprised.
"You are." Glorfindel stated, smiling softly at the dumbfounded look of shock on his friend's face.
"M-m-me? Me?" Erestor fumbled, eyes wide with confusion.
"Of course, silly. You're the best friend anybody's ever had."
"Now I'm crying." Erestor whispered as a single tear trailed down his pale cheek.
Glorfindel laughed, and his laugh was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm.
:::::
"What is going on in there?" Elladan whispered as he peeked into Erestor's study, balancing on tip-toes to see into the high window, little Estel trying and failing to get a look in as well.
"First Glorfindel's crying, then Erestor! Glorfindel doesn't cry!" Elrohir whispered in dismay, pushing over his brother in order to get a better look.
"I was right! Mighty warriors do cry!" Estel crowed, and was swiftly silenced.
"Forget that, I didn't think Erestor knew how to cry." Elladan finished, watching as the two friends sat holding on to each other as the sun streamed in through the high windows, washing over the glinting droplets of water on each of their cheeks.
The room was bathed in a red light, the light of the setting sun, covering everything with its hues of fire.
It reminded Glorfindel too much of that fateful morning in Gondolin, but for once, as the sun set behind the trees, he wasn't afraid.
~fin~
Please review! And do check out my other stories! Specifically 'A Ranger of the Woods', which I just updated today!
Thanks so much for your time,
~Thurin