Chapter Eleven
The road seemed to pass quickly underneath them as they rode through the mountains. Passes that only a year before had required a fully pitched battle to travel through now were open to the small company of elves without a fight. In the shadow of Caradhras they kept had their hands close to their weapons. The Redhorn pass held shadows and they passed through it in silence. Once, Glorfindel would have been grieved again for the passing of Celebrían, but in his mind he could only hold one shadow at a time.
He barely had to guide Asfaloth along, every horse in the party knew the road home and every rider urged them on with a haste that came from a wearisome journey. Still they had left a few in Lórien, some wished to stay and others because guarding so many wounded was impractical. Glorfindel knew he should be paying more attention to his warriors yet Erestor in his efficiency had dealt with everything and left him nothing to occupy his thoughts that could be considered healthy.
The path to Imladris was lightly guarded, one archer stepped forwards out of the trees after they had passed the ford to greet them before they passed on. Glorfindel looked down at the valley, making a note of each change since the first time he had seen it. The house was the same, perhaps an extra wing had been built behind at some point, the gardens were fuller as the trees grew and the rocks of the waterfall had eroded. It was more than that though, the passing of time that even elven realms could not hide. Imladris was no longer as comforting as it had once been, a hearth banked too much so that it no longer kept the whole room warm.
Elrond stood on the steps, the twins behind him, to meet them.
"Fourteen," called Erestor before he had even dismounted. Their Lord's attention went first to those who still had healing wounds and they were bundled off towards the healers' wing, leaving the others to disperse.
"How was the road?" Elladan asked, the five of them falling into step as they walked through the Hall of Fire.
"Long, at least we came before the snow caught us. Is Bilbo still here?" Lindir lightened up, finally being around someone who would speak to him after his father's silence.
"They all are, Mithrandir and the other Hobbits. Come, Bilbo will be pleased to see you." Elladan pulled him away, his twin following to leave Glorfindel and Erestor alone in the corridor.
"Lórien did not make the shadow pass." Erestor's tone held the tiniest note of accusation in it. For a brief time under the golden eaves Glorfindel had made the effort to seem better, to smile and make it look as though his misgivings were gone. More to make Artanis leave him be than anything else, if the truth be told. On the road he had fallen back into his musings and being home did nothing to help.
Glorfindel hesitated, opening their door for him first.
"We are no longer in Lórien," he answered quietly. "The shadows around the hearth always seem longer." He placed his sword and bag gently on the table, leaving them to be put away later. Erestor as always tidied his own things away at once. Although he had cleaned his sword, Glorfindel still felt as if it was smeared with blood.
"Fin, put it down." He realised that he had taken the blade out and was staring at it. Thin hands took it from him, sheathing it and putting it away with his armour. "Come, Elrond and Mithrandir will be expecting us by now."
Erestor had been right, already in the Hall of Fire there sat Elrond and Mithrandir, watching as Lindir and Bilbo started to sing by the fire. The other four hobbits and a few elves were seated around them.
"I would suggest you leave off asking for a narrative until they have both had some sleep," Gandalf said to Elrond as they approached. Glorfindel knew Erestor looked tired, as he often did but the news that he seemed just as bad made him straighten up slightly. By the smirk his friends developed Erestor had done the same. Glorfindel pulled up another chair for him, resting on the back of it as he let his eyes wander of the rest of the hall.
"Is there news from Mirkwood?" asked Erestor.
"Yarna arrived safely, she left the situation rather vague. I doubt that even Thranduil has the full picture. Serwen writes often, she seems to think that there is trouble with the succession."
"There will be, Legolas will never take the crown unless his father rams it on his head," Gandalf muttered. "Now that I have you all here, I would like to thank you for keeping one detail from me. Did you ever intend to inform me that he was in fact my son in law?"
"That was their decision. I do not think it was a matter of hiding it from you," answered Elrond.
"More that you never asked." Glorfindel met Gandalf's eye for a moment before turning back to watch Lindir tune up his harp ready to play again.
"Fin." He wasn't sure if Erestor's chiding was in his head or had actually been said out loud.
"Yarna should do her best to remember that you are her father, not Saruman. She will come under fire enough as it is without having a traitor's name hanging over her," Elrond added.
"She would be wise not to mention either of you," said Erestor, shaking his head. "The Woodland Folk pick up on the slightest change in attitudes. She knows this, between them she and Matlar will keep each other safe."
"I don't see why you three refuse to do anything except send a useless ambassador and then watch whilst two children clean up Thranduil's mess."
"It may have escaped your notice, Mithrandir, but Yarna is not a child anymore," Elrond murmured. "And Serwen is far from useless. Difficult, yes, but she does exactly what we need her to. Yarna understands the situation better than you do. Thranduil will accept her help, eventually, but he will never accept ours." Glorfindel doubted that Erestor had the energy now to try and settle something with the Elvenking. Once they could have matched each other at a negotiating table, they had given each other a good run at war councils but that strength was gone, lost in the darkness of the forest. Elrond too, seemed worn although he had just lost his daughter to Aragorn, both in the usual father of the bride sense and the loss of Arwen to mortality that would one day happen. Again, the Homely House felt old, tired, fading if Glorfindel could dare use that term.
"Are we going to dine, Ada?" Elrohir called across the hall. The doors to the dining hall had been pushed open but had clearly escaped Elrond's notice. The hobbits clamoured excitedly and Elrond led his house into dinner. Glorfindel took his seat at Elrond's right, Erestor next to him. The hall filled with chatter, Lindir and the other elves in their company were the focus of the attention as they were greeted by relieved friends and asked for news on those still in Lórien.
"There was no need to be catty to him," Erestor admonished him quietly. "You do not think he has enough guilt on his shoulders already?"
"I will apologise." It was easier than starting up a half whispered argument about who was to blame for the danger Yarna was currently in. Glorfindel saw Erestor's shoulders sag slightly. Perhaps that was what he had wanted, an angry response, or anything to prove that Glorfindel was still the Seneschal who disagreed with everything out of habit. He wished he could be more than a frightened old fool who listened to his nightmares too much. They barely spoke for the rest of the meal, each picking at their plate with little interest. Elrond asked a few military questions and settled for the full report in the morning.
"Ada?" Lindir called as they drifted back into the Hall of Fire. "Will you not stay?" He had his harp out, already plucking absently at it.
"Dry your weapons before they rust," Erestor murmured and patted his shoulder. "Tonight, not in the morning." He gave his son a rueful smile and left. Glorfindel debated staying, just to give him space. After a moment he knew that it would only get worse if he remained.
"I am sorry," he whispered, leaning against the door. Erestor rearranged the papers on his desk slowly, dragging out the simple task. A silence fell between them, punctured only by the rasping of parchment against parchment as the papers were piled up and shuffled over and over again.
"I know." Erestor turned his back to him, sorting the assorted objects that cluttered their front room. There was no need, they were more or less in perfect order, Glorfindel had not had time to disrupt the neatness of the room yet. He sighed and left Erestor to it, if it settled his mind Glorfindel would let him align books with a straight edge. He ran the bath, watching the water fill the tub with steam.
Erestor had curled up in a chair, reading by the time Glorfindel reappeared. He sighed and did not bother disturbing him. In a gesture of apology he left the door open to let the light from Erestor's candle spill into their bedroom as Glorfindel pulled the blanket over himself. He did his best not to fall asleep, staring at the wall for hours. Sleep brought back the flames and even when eventually he felt the light presence next to him, turned the other way and silent, he could not let the tension from his shoulders go. Erestor's breathing evened out and Glorfindel let his eyes shut for a moment. Not dreaming, he did not allow himself to dream for fear of a nightmare waking Erestor.
In the small hours, when the House was wrapped in night's cloak and even the minstrels had scurried away to the nooks and crannies where they talked all night, Glorfindel felt the figure next to him move. Shake, rather. He sat up, frowning at the sheen of sweat on Erestor's face. Violent nightmares, thrashing around and even crying out were his domain, when terrors gripped the darker elf he merely woke in silence and all Glorfindel knew of it was when a small head nestled against him. Shaking was a new development.
"Erestor?" Coal eyes flashed open and Glorfindel was confronted with a hunted face he had not seen since Dol Guldur. "Melda, what is it?" It had been his fault, he had reawakened an old wound somehow. Erestor did not answer for a moment, a trembling hand etching the contours of Glorfindel's face.
"It was the day you died," he said at last. "For the first time since you returned I saw you fall again."
