Author's Note: Is a direct continuation of the chapter before this.
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"Who was he?" Aragorn demanded, hating the unfortunate already but needing to know.
Elrond sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to have this conversation but if it helped...
"Was it Isildur?"
"No! Of course not!" Elrond was very emphatic on that point. Isildur had been a dear friend, nothing more or less, and it was travesty to even think of the man in any other light.
"Then who? Gil-Galad?" Aragorn folded his arms and lounged back to his chair. He sat back and settled in comfortably, patience in every line of his graceful body. Clearly he was prepared to keep guessing until he struck gold. "It wasn't Glorfindel, was it?"
The Elf Lord was fast reaching the fine line between amusement and revulsion. He sat back down as well, pushing the papers to the side on his desk for the moment before turning to face the human's suitably blank expression. A pang echoed in his heart at the mess he was currently in, a sing that only assuaged by the hope that proving his understanding might make Estel give up his ridiculous tenacity.
"No, not Glorfindel," he sighed, "Or Gil-Galad. You will not know the elf, for elf he was, though long forgotten by anyone except myself. His name is not mentioned in song or legend. Even old friends of mine like Glorfindel, who knew of the affair, will be hard pressed to remember him."
The pain was obvious, even while the ageless face seemed perfectly controlled and almost pleasantly conversational. But for the mortal, who had made it his life's work to know every facet of his love, there was a heavy-lidded dreaminess and pale sorrow that corroded the serenity directed towards him.
Elrond was already half caught up in his memories of the past, seeing in his mind's eye the demure mischief and slender hands of his once-lover. "Aureif," he said quietly, "His name was Aureif. If it has a meaning I have yet to learn it. He said he was named by his father combining the names of his mother and uncle. He served Gil-Galad when I met him."
"He was a soldier?" Somehow Aragorn felt that that would be fitting.
"Soldier?" Elrond looked bitterly amused, "He was no soldier. He had some skill with knives, but no real knowledge of war. No, he was a servant in my Lord's household. He helped serve the evening meal on my third day there. I don't remember what we ate but I remember not being able to look away from his face."
Aragorn wanted to scream. Elrond had no right to look so fond of a memory of an elf long lost; Elrond had no right! He bit the inside of his cheek and gave a curt nod, swallowing the bitterness that came with knowing he could never put that look on the Elf Lord's face. "Were you forbidden from each other? Or did he not return your love? What went wrong?"
Grey eyes lost the gentle haze and cleared. Elrond sat up straighter and shook his dark head slightly. "The world went wrong," he said, "Myself included. He returned my love, yes, but we were not ...comfortable together. I was rather young; and loved that such an elf wanted me. He was much admired, you see; and I was still just a Peredhil. But I was insufferable about my pride- made inappropriate gestures to him in public; touched him openly as he went by on his errands; whispered audible endearances in his ear as he served in the dining hall."
Elrond blushed as he remembered those days. He'd been so unbelievably transparent in those days, willing to do anything in his arrogant youth. Aureif had lost patience and goodwill time and again, finally breaking down one night and refusing to come to him again until he stopped. And the raw Half-Elf had not known what to do besides excuse himself from blame and make them both miserable for months afterwards.
"Friends tried talking some sense into me, others merely sneered. Most, however, were well aware that I was carrying on this ridiculous and ill- concealed affair with a servant. Aureif begged me not to embarrass him or compromise his honour, but I was in love and so the whole world had to know. Eventually Gil-Galad released him from his duties and gave me warning of what would happen if I ever betrayed his trust."
"I cannot believe it was necessary for such a one as you, Elrond," Aragorn smiled quietly. He simply could not picture his love as such a brash personage, not with the quiet dignity and reserve he now hid behind. But then, the man thought wistfully, one changes with passion.
"Believe it, Estel, it is only the truth," Elrond replied, a wry smile flickering for an instant, "But things worked for a while. We did not bond, but he worked alongside me, as my attendant. Ah, Estel, if ever love was made of purity it was with him. Every look and touch and word spoke of it, even when... but I'm sorry, I had forgotten."
The young man turned his head and stared doggedly out the window. He'd known this pain would come; Elrond had warned him not to ask. And yet if his love had once known the best of happiness and completion, who was he not to rejoice in it? Even while Arwen was willing to do the same for him?
The Lord of Imladris looked at the obvious misery in discomfort and sympathy. He hadn't meant to rip at raw wounds, but Estel needed to see the difference between being loved and being used, and should the elf take him now it would be only to use him. Even the love they shared would not survive the shock of bedding him. Love was pure and Elrond was truly sorry that Estel believed he had found it with one who could not return it.
He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap to stop them reaching out to his youngest son as he wanted to do. "I understand that hearing what I have to say hurts, Estel," he resumed gently, "The Valar know I would have felt much the same if Aureif had been unable to love me as I did him. But I need you to understand that to hope for something I cannot give you is unfair to the both of us. I love you, Estel, but only as a son. Aureif was the only man I ever gave my heart to and I have never had the urge to do so with another. Had he lived, I would have bound myself to him."
Aragorn's head snapped up, an odd arrested look in his eyes both at the information and at the almost hissing anger that unconsciously coloured the words. The sight of the normally serene Elf Lord flashing fury was rather alarming, all things considered. "He- he died?"
"Yes." The admission was curt, short and to the point. But given almost roughly as a tense body uncoiled to its feet and rapidly strode to the window to draw in deep gasps of clean air as if it were an antidote for some kind of poison. "The wars began and I was needed at my Lord's side. Gil-Galad warned me that a battlefield was no place for lovers, but Aureif wanted to follow me and I could not refuse. The love you feel now, I felt then- if I had to die I would do so, but knowing I was coming from or going to a lover's embrace. Then we were ambushed on a march and he died with a sword in his throat. I almost lost myself to hate; but if ever there was a reason for me to despise Sauron and reject the power he offered, it was knowing that he was the monster responsible for the death of my innocent. It is ironic, is it not, that it took my first love's death to make me a hero?"
The words trailed into a whisper as the dark head bowed. Somehow, the slender figure that seemed so substantial and invulnerable in its rich robes and strong physique, suddenly seemed in danger of collapsing into itself, as if it were too fragile for even the gentle breezes that blew the dark hair on hunched shoulders.
"Is that why you cannot love me? Because you still love him even in his death?"
"No, Estel. I cannot love you because the love you want is one I cannot give you. I cannot force myself to love you as a man because you are my son. Yes, I am aware of your attractions, but physical response does not require an emotional one; you deserve better than that and I will not hurt you with false promises."
Aragorn shook his head impatiently. "That does not answer my question, Elrond- are you still in love with Aureif?"
Deep grey eyes with wise compassion and passionate sympathy turned to him. "Yes. But it is an old love, one that I treasure with jealous memory but does not stop me from loving another. I did love Celebrian just as much, after all, though that love cooled long before disaster struck. I cannot come to you because I do not see you like that. Why can you not accept that, ion nin?"
The human was hurting, deeply and intensely. Even the very rays of sunlight seemed to burn more pain into his skin. "How many times must I say it- I am not your son!"
"Yes, you are!" Elrond was also nearing the end of his patience. Speaking of private matters of the heart was not an easy task for him, especially of Aureif and with Estel. "In my heart you are my son. I have fed you, cared for you, nursed your scraped knee. I told you stories and dried your tears. I scolded you and taught you right from wrong."
"And the arms that held me as I went to sleep were yours," Aragorn said quietly, "You are my world. You completed me, even as a child. And as I grew, so did my love. When my dreams began to grow heated with age, it was your face I saw. Not some insipid maid with a pretty face, but the person who carried the other half of my soul. Melethron, to know I leave the other part of my soul hurts me."
The human visibly flinched in yearning need as he stepped back, away from that which he had desperately wanted for most of his life. Both foster father and foster son no longer knew each other. Elrond had confessed to his youth's weakness; Aragorn had confessed to his adult's desires. A floorboard creaked and neither noticed it. The door opened and then Aragorn was gone, running lightly through the hallways with all the swiftness of sorrow in his feet.
Elrond broke out of whatever spell held him captive and cursed, volubly and at length, the empty garden spread before his unseeing gaze, the elvish swear words running fluidly off his tongue. He was well aware of his fingers closing on the balcony railings and of the sun shining blindingly into his eyes. He was aware that the afternoon beckoned sleepily to those who wished to hide in shade and bathing pools from the heat. He was not, however, aware of a knowing pair of bright blue eyes that regarded him from the balcony of the adjoining room.
"My Lord, perhaps such language is best left to the privacy of your thoughts," Glorfindel finally called, saluting sheepishly as terrifyingly dark grey eyes flashed to his person.
"Glorfindel!"
He bowed.
Elrond's eyes narrowed. "How long have you been there?" he demanded harshly, getting an irresistible urge to feel a sword in his hand once more. He decided it would be even better if he could use said sword to cut off the eavesdropping ears of blond seneschals who insisted on listening to conversations that were none of their business.
Glorfindel came around to answer the question, leaving the balcony only to enter hesitantly in the doorway of the study. He shivered under than deadly gaze, more because he would hate to have to kill a good friend even in self- defence. "I heard all of it," he admitted openly.
The stare lessened somewhat at the honest reply. In truth, the anger and frustration was fast draining from Elrond's blood, leaving nothing more than confusion and tiredness in its place. The half-elf nodded slowly and waved him in.
"Then you know," he whispered, his hands loose at his side and his eyes closing briefly. When they opened again, the last remaining traces of passion were gone, leaving helplessness in its place. "Glorfindel, as a friend I must ask you a question. If you would rather not answer I would accept your reluctance and excuse you, but... what am I to do?"
The blond raised an astonished eyebrow. The Lord of Rivendell was actually asking for help? It was more serious than he had guessed. He cleared his throat and thought hard. "If Estel is really in love with you," he began carefully, studiously avoiding eye contact, "then you need to ascertain how you feel for him. Do you, for instance, return his feelings?"
"No," Elrond answered immediately, a trifle shocked that one who knew him so well had to ask, "You heard me speak to him and I would not lie to him, no matter what the consequences."
"I thought not," Glorfindel agreed, "Have you made that clear?"
"Yes."
Glorfindel shook his head regretfully. "I hate to disagree with you, Elrond, but from what I did hear, you did not tell him once and for all that this madness had to stop. You were only sparing his feelings- that I know- but if you are not firm now, it will only cause more damage later."
"What more can I say to make it clear?"
Blue eyes met grey eyes in an expressive glance. "I think you know what must be done, Elrond," Glorfindel sighed, "You yourself suffered separation from Aureif on Gil-Galad's orders. Estel must be sent away."
"And what if that doesn't work? Elbereth knows, it did not stop the love between Aureif and myself from growing."
"If Estel's love is true, it won't stop his either. But don't you think it would be kinder in that case to keep him away from you? And perhaps, instead, he will see more of the world and find his 'love' was mere infatuation. In which case he can come home when he is ready and all will be forgotten."
Elrond nodded, numbed by the contemplation of such a drastic action. He knew now why he'd felt the foreboding at the start of the whole conversation. In his heart he had always known he would one day lose his Estel, his beloved youngest child. But he had thought it would be to destiny or death; he had simply not envisioned it would turn out like this! A heavy hand lent reassuring weight to his shoulder for a moment.
"It is not the end of your life, Elrond. Estel came always have a home here. But staying in a place that is the embodiment of your work and dreams and spirit would be unmitigated torment. He would go mad from grief and likely run away on his own accord. With this, he goes with your blessing, still the loved son of Elrond Peredhil, and not the self-betraying immoral lover of his own father. Do what is right, my Lord... for both your sake and Estel's."
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"Who was he?" Aragorn demanded, hating the unfortunate already but needing to know.
Elrond sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to have this conversation but if it helped...
"Was it Isildur?"
"No! Of course not!" Elrond was very emphatic on that point. Isildur had been a dear friend, nothing more or less, and it was travesty to even think of the man in any other light.
"Then who? Gil-Galad?" Aragorn folded his arms and lounged back to his chair. He sat back and settled in comfortably, patience in every line of his graceful body. Clearly he was prepared to keep guessing until he struck gold. "It wasn't Glorfindel, was it?"
The Elf Lord was fast reaching the fine line between amusement and revulsion. He sat back down as well, pushing the papers to the side on his desk for the moment before turning to face the human's suitably blank expression. A pang echoed in his heart at the mess he was currently in, a sing that only assuaged by the hope that proving his understanding might make Estel give up his ridiculous tenacity.
"No, not Glorfindel," he sighed, "Or Gil-Galad. You will not know the elf, for elf he was, though long forgotten by anyone except myself. His name is not mentioned in song or legend. Even old friends of mine like Glorfindel, who knew of the affair, will be hard pressed to remember him."
The pain was obvious, even while the ageless face seemed perfectly controlled and almost pleasantly conversational. But for the mortal, who had made it his life's work to know every facet of his love, there was a heavy-lidded dreaminess and pale sorrow that corroded the serenity directed towards him.
Elrond was already half caught up in his memories of the past, seeing in his mind's eye the demure mischief and slender hands of his once-lover. "Aureif," he said quietly, "His name was Aureif. If it has a meaning I have yet to learn it. He said he was named by his father combining the names of his mother and uncle. He served Gil-Galad when I met him."
"He was a soldier?" Somehow Aragorn felt that that would be fitting.
"Soldier?" Elrond looked bitterly amused, "He was no soldier. He had some skill with knives, but no real knowledge of war. No, he was a servant in my Lord's household. He helped serve the evening meal on my third day there. I don't remember what we ate but I remember not being able to look away from his face."
Aragorn wanted to scream. Elrond had no right to look so fond of a memory of an elf long lost; Elrond had no right! He bit the inside of his cheek and gave a curt nod, swallowing the bitterness that came with knowing he could never put that look on the Elf Lord's face. "Were you forbidden from each other? Or did he not return your love? What went wrong?"
Grey eyes lost the gentle haze and cleared. Elrond sat up straighter and shook his dark head slightly. "The world went wrong," he said, "Myself included. He returned my love, yes, but we were not ...comfortable together. I was rather young; and loved that such an elf wanted me. He was much admired, you see; and I was still just a Peredhil. But I was insufferable about my pride- made inappropriate gestures to him in public; touched him openly as he went by on his errands; whispered audible endearances in his ear as he served in the dining hall."
Elrond blushed as he remembered those days. He'd been so unbelievably transparent in those days, willing to do anything in his arrogant youth. Aureif had lost patience and goodwill time and again, finally breaking down one night and refusing to come to him again until he stopped. And the raw Half-Elf had not known what to do besides excuse himself from blame and make them both miserable for months afterwards.
"Friends tried talking some sense into me, others merely sneered. Most, however, were well aware that I was carrying on this ridiculous and ill- concealed affair with a servant. Aureif begged me not to embarrass him or compromise his honour, but I was in love and so the whole world had to know. Eventually Gil-Galad released him from his duties and gave me warning of what would happen if I ever betrayed his trust."
"I cannot believe it was necessary for such a one as you, Elrond," Aragorn smiled quietly. He simply could not picture his love as such a brash personage, not with the quiet dignity and reserve he now hid behind. But then, the man thought wistfully, one changes with passion.
"Believe it, Estel, it is only the truth," Elrond replied, a wry smile flickering for an instant, "But things worked for a while. We did not bond, but he worked alongside me, as my attendant. Ah, Estel, if ever love was made of purity it was with him. Every look and touch and word spoke of it, even when... but I'm sorry, I had forgotten."
The young man turned his head and stared doggedly out the window. He'd known this pain would come; Elrond had warned him not to ask. And yet if his love had once known the best of happiness and completion, who was he not to rejoice in it? Even while Arwen was willing to do the same for him?
The Lord of Imladris looked at the obvious misery in discomfort and sympathy. He hadn't meant to rip at raw wounds, but Estel needed to see the difference between being loved and being used, and should the elf take him now it would be only to use him. Even the love they shared would not survive the shock of bedding him. Love was pure and Elrond was truly sorry that Estel believed he had found it with one who could not return it.
He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap to stop them reaching out to his youngest son as he wanted to do. "I understand that hearing what I have to say hurts, Estel," he resumed gently, "The Valar know I would have felt much the same if Aureif had been unable to love me as I did him. But I need you to understand that to hope for something I cannot give you is unfair to the both of us. I love you, Estel, but only as a son. Aureif was the only man I ever gave my heart to and I have never had the urge to do so with another. Had he lived, I would have bound myself to him."
Aragorn's head snapped up, an odd arrested look in his eyes both at the information and at the almost hissing anger that unconsciously coloured the words. The sight of the normally serene Elf Lord flashing fury was rather alarming, all things considered. "He- he died?"
"Yes." The admission was curt, short and to the point. But given almost roughly as a tense body uncoiled to its feet and rapidly strode to the window to draw in deep gasps of clean air as if it were an antidote for some kind of poison. "The wars began and I was needed at my Lord's side. Gil-Galad warned me that a battlefield was no place for lovers, but Aureif wanted to follow me and I could not refuse. The love you feel now, I felt then- if I had to die I would do so, but knowing I was coming from or going to a lover's embrace. Then we were ambushed on a march and he died with a sword in his throat. I almost lost myself to hate; but if ever there was a reason for me to despise Sauron and reject the power he offered, it was knowing that he was the monster responsible for the death of my innocent. It is ironic, is it not, that it took my first love's death to make me a hero?"
The words trailed into a whisper as the dark head bowed. Somehow, the slender figure that seemed so substantial and invulnerable in its rich robes and strong physique, suddenly seemed in danger of collapsing into itself, as if it were too fragile for even the gentle breezes that blew the dark hair on hunched shoulders.
"Is that why you cannot love me? Because you still love him even in his death?"
"No, Estel. I cannot love you because the love you want is one I cannot give you. I cannot force myself to love you as a man because you are my son. Yes, I am aware of your attractions, but physical response does not require an emotional one; you deserve better than that and I will not hurt you with false promises."
Aragorn shook his head impatiently. "That does not answer my question, Elrond- are you still in love with Aureif?"
Deep grey eyes with wise compassion and passionate sympathy turned to him. "Yes. But it is an old love, one that I treasure with jealous memory but does not stop me from loving another. I did love Celebrian just as much, after all, though that love cooled long before disaster struck. I cannot come to you because I do not see you like that. Why can you not accept that, ion nin?"
The human was hurting, deeply and intensely. Even the very rays of sunlight seemed to burn more pain into his skin. "How many times must I say it- I am not your son!"
"Yes, you are!" Elrond was also nearing the end of his patience. Speaking of private matters of the heart was not an easy task for him, especially of Aureif and with Estel. "In my heart you are my son. I have fed you, cared for you, nursed your scraped knee. I told you stories and dried your tears. I scolded you and taught you right from wrong."
"And the arms that held me as I went to sleep were yours," Aragorn said quietly, "You are my world. You completed me, even as a child. And as I grew, so did my love. When my dreams began to grow heated with age, it was your face I saw. Not some insipid maid with a pretty face, but the person who carried the other half of my soul. Melethron, to know I leave the other part of my soul hurts me."
The human visibly flinched in yearning need as he stepped back, away from that which he had desperately wanted for most of his life. Both foster father and foster son no longer knew each other. Elrond had confessed to his youth's weakness; Aragorn had confessed to his adult's desires. A floorboard creaked and neither noticed it. The door opened and then Aragorn was gone, running lightly through the hallways with all the swiftness of sorrow in his feet.
Elrond broke out of whatever spell held him captive and cursed, volubly and at length, the empty garden spread before his unseeing gaze, the elvish swear words running fluidly off his tongue. He was well aware of his fingers closing on the balcony railings and of the sun shining blindingly into his eyes. He was aware that the afternoon beckoned sleepily to those who wished to hide in shade and bathing pools from the heat. He was not, however, aware of a knowing pair of bright blue eyes that regarded him from the balcony of the adjoining room.
"My Lord, perhaps such language is best left to the privacy of your thoughts," Glorfindel finally called, saluting sheepishly as terrifyingly dark grey eyes flashed to his person.
"Glorfindel!"
He bowed.
Elrond's eyes narrowed. "How long have you been there?" he demanded harshly, getting an irresistible urge to feel a sword in his hand once more. He decided it would be even better if he could use said sword to cut off the eavesdropping ears of blond seneschals who insisted on listening to conversations that were none of their business.
Glorfindel came around to answer the question, leaving the balcony only to enter hesitantly in the doorway of the study. He shivered under than deadly gaze, more because he would hate to have to kill a good friend even in self- defence. "I heard all of it," he admitted openly.
The stare lessened somewhat at the honest reply. In truth, the anger and frustration was fast draining from Elrond's blood, leaving nothing more than confusion and tiredness in its place. The half-elf nodded slowly and waved him in.
"Then you know," he whispered, his hands loose at his side and his eyes closing briefly. When they opened again, the last remaining traces of passion were gone, leaving helplessness in its place. "Glorfindel, as a friend I must ask you a question. If you would rather not answer I would accept your reluctance and excuse you, but... what am I to do?"
The blond raised an astonished eyebrow. The Lord of Rivendell was actually asking for help? It was more serious than he had guessed. He cleared his throat and thought hard. "If Estel is really in love with you," he began carefully, studiously avoiding eye contact, "then you need to ascertain how you feel for him. Do you, for instance, return his feelings?"
"No," Elrond answered immediately, a trifle shocked that one who knew him so well had to ask, "You heard me speak to him and I would not lie to him, no matter what the consequences."
"I thought not," Glorfindel agreed, "Have you made that clear?"
"Yes."
Glorfindel shook his head regretfully. "I hate to disagree with you, Elrond, but from what I did hear, you did not tell him once and for all that this madness had to stop. You were only sparing his feelings- that I know- but if you are not firm now, it will only cause more damage later."
"What more can I say to make it clear?"
Blue eyes met grey eyes in an expressive glance. "I think you know what must be done, Elrond," Glorfindel sighed, "You yourself suffered separation from Aureif on Gil-Galad's orders. Estel must be sent away."
"And what if that doesn't work? Elbereth knows, it did not stop the love between Aureif and myself from growing."
"If Estel's love is true, it won't stop his either. But don't you think it would be kinder in that case to keep him away from you? And perhaps, instead, he will see more of the world and find his 'love' was mere infatuation. In which case he can come home when he is ready and all will be forgotten."
Elrond nodded, numbed by the contemplation of such a drastic action. He knew now why he'd felt the foreboding at the start of the whole conversation. In his heart he had always known he would one day lose his Estel, his beloved youngest child. But he had thought it would be to destiny or death; he had simply not envisioned it would turn out like this! A heavy hand lent reassuring weight to his shoulder for a moment.
"It is not the end of your life, Elrond. Estel came always have a home here. But staying in a place that is the embodiment of your work and dreams and spirit would be unmitigated torment. He would go mad from grief and likely run away on his own accord. With this, he goes with your blessing, still the loved son of Elrond Peredhil, and not the self-betraying immoral lover of his own father. Do what is right, my Lord... for both your sake and Estel's."