Chapter Eight: Adrift


Glorfindel shifted his position on Súlfëa's back. He had been riding for three hours straight, and his muscles were beginning to protest. To his surprise, Súlfëa had been docile and cooperative, and there had been no 'incidents' since they had set off.

Erestor sat in front of Glorfindel, slumped up against him. Glorfindel and Rasaras had been unsure just how much of the pain-killing herbal rememdy to give him, so Glorfindel had guessed. It had rendered Erestor unconscious almost instantly and he had not awakened since. Glorfindel would have worried, had it not been for the fact that Erestor's pulse had strengthened and the gash on the back of his head had begun to heal. Now the advisor appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was deep and regular.

So far, Rasaras's trail proved to be a success. His boots had not left much of an imprint on the snow, but it appeared that the archer had been careful to follow what he could see of the trail they had all left the evening before. Súlfëa walked with extreme care and stayed calm, even though the deep snow covered her hooves completely. Glorfindel guessed that it was due to the fact that she sensed her master was wounded and in need of care, and she had made up her mind not to let anything cause her to react and hurt him. Knowing that the mare was willing to work with him made Glorfindel feel more relaxed and confident that his plan would work.

Erestor stirred suddenly. He yawned and shifted, then looked around himself with shock and alarm. "Where am I?" he said.

Glorfindel smiled. "Do not worry. We are on our way back to Imladris. Rasaras has gone ahead to blaze a trail, and we should arrive in just a few days. How do you feel?"

The advisor blinked a few times as if to process the rush of new information. "What about Lord Círdan and Mithlond?"

"We are not going to Mithlond," said Glorfindel firmly, not wanting any argument. "You need Elrond to look at your wounds, and by the time we would have reached Mithlond we would have had to bury you somewhere along the way. None of us are in any condition to show up as ambassadors, and I think Círdan will understand."

Erestor put a hand to his face and began to rub his temples as if he had a headache. "How long was I asleep?" he asked in a defeated tone of voice.

"About four and a half hours, actually." He glanced down at the pale, sad face, an idea forming in his mind. "Did you know that you snore very loudly?"

Erestor's eyes narrowed. "I do not."

He grinned. "How do you know?"

The advisor blinked, as if wondering how he could prove the statement. "Hmph," he mumbled after a few seconds of fruitless pondering.

Glorfindel laughed. "I was only teasing."

"How can you laugh in a time like this?" asked Erestor incredulously, an accusatory expression on his face. "Do you not remember what happened last night?"

"Of course I do," he answered with a calmer smile. "Laughter helps one heal."

"I think that it is a sign of insanity," muttered Erestor.

"Well then, I am insane but at peace. If you would rather be sober and miserable, that is your decision." He smiled. "I have decided that I am not going to let you annoy me for this whole journey. If you are angry, it is because you choose to be angry. I will not be a part of it."

Erestor scowled and grumbled something in a language Glorfindel did not know. The words were unintelligible, but the sentiment was obvious. Glorfindel did not need to have Elrond's gift of reading hearts to understand. I agree, Erestor, he thought, his cheerful façade slipping away. This is going to be a very long ride.


Elrond glanced out the window of Imladris for the fifth time in as many minutes. The sun was just rising over the snow-dusted valley, but he was worried. The sun was a bright shade of red. It was a superstition common among Elves that a red sun always arose when there had been a bloody battle the night before. He was hardly one to be superstitious, but that did not change the fact that he was nervous.

He had had the strangest dream the night before: he had dreamed that he was outside in the rain beside a large house, and when he had knocked on the door, then his twin Elros had opened it and invited him in. He had greeted Elros with shock and indescribable joy, since the older twin had long ago died, but when he tried to embrace his brother, Elros had suddenly turned around and attacked him. He had awoken in a cold sweat. Perhaps it meant nothing, but it was his experience that dreams that were as vivid as this one were ususally important.

The sound of muffled footsteps came to his ears. He turned around and saw Imladris's cook Meretheryn enter his study. She was carrying a large mug of something steaming hot.

"This is a rather cold day, milord," she said with a cheerful smile. "I thought you might like a hot cream tea to keep back the chill."

Elrond smiled in spite of his worries. It was not a well-known fact, but he often felt the winter chill more than his fellow Elves did. He suspected that it was due to his Mannish ancestry, though he was still more resistant to the cold then a mortal. It was barely noticeable to anyone else, but Meretheryn noticed everything. "Thank you," he said sincerely, taking an appreciative sip. No one could make cream tea like Meretheryn.

She smiled and glanced out the window. "I wonder if the Captain and Advisor and all of them have reached Mithlond yet," she mused.

"It is not likely," answered Elrond. "At the earliest, they should arrive the day after tomorrow."

She sighed. "I miss them already. Imladris is not quite the same without all of them."

Elrond glanced over to his desk. Paperwork was beginning to pile up, and he was not at all eager to tackle it. Erestor usually handled that sort of thing, but it would be another week and a half before the advisor returned. "I agree," he said with conviction.


Erestor sighed. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt, his ankle hurt, and Súlfëa's every step jarred his bones. He could not think about anything for very long before Belegon, Malchathol, Arandur, or the Númenóreans came to mind. Glorfindel was being so cheerful and sunny that Erestor wanted to smack him. He just wanted to be left alone in his misery.

Glorfindel had been quiet for a full five minutes, but then he cleared his throat and glanced down at Erestor. "How are you holding up?"

Erestor gave him as dark a scowl as he could manage. "Do you really want to know?"

"I would not have asked if I did not," the Vanya countered.

"Fine, then. I am tired and miserable and I wish I was dead. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Glorfindel's smile sagged, and Erestor felt a bit of triumph. "I wish you would not say that, Erestor," said Glorfindel. "I am only trying to help."

"Help someone else, then," grumbled Erestor. "Someone who appreciates the effort."

Glorfindel was silent for a few minutes. "May I ask you a question, Erestor?" he finally asked.

"If you want."

"Why are you always so annoyed with me?"

Erestor thought about his reply. The question had not been put as self-pitying, or accusatory, or even as a whine. Glorfindel asked as if he simply wanted a reason. It was said in a short and to-the-point tone that Erestor grudgingly appreciated. In return, he decided to be completely honest.

"I do not know," Erestor answered. "It is as if everything you say to me is insulting or demeaning. I cannot seem to keep a clear head when you speak to me."

Glorfindel looked surprised. "I never mean to insult you," he said.

Erestor snorted. "Then do you mean that by calling me paranoid, untrustworthy, ungrateful, and impertinent, you meant to pay me a compliment?"

A flicker of shame and embarrassment passed over the fair Vanyan face. "I did not mean that. I lost my temper and said things that I now regret." He sighed and seemed to think deeply for a few minutes.

Finally Glorfindel appeared to come to a conclusion. "We are going to be out here alone for days, and I would rather not spend it arguing," the warrior said. "If I agree not to say anything insulting, will you agree not to be irritated and annoyed?"

Erestor lifted an eyebrow. Belegon's words passed through his mind: I think that if you will make even the smallest bit of effort, you will be amazed at the results. He agreed that the next few days would only be more miserable if he and Glorfindel were constantly angry with one another. "I like the idea, but it would be hard to promise something like that. How about you agree to try not to say anything insulting, and I agree to try not to be annoyed?"

"That would work, as long as we also agree to let the other one know the reason. It would be hard for me to understand what I am doing wrong if you never told me why you were angry with me."

Erestor nodded. That was fair enough. "I agree, then."

Glorfindel grabbed his right hand, avoiding the injured shoulder, and shook it enthusiastically. "As do I." Immediately he looked more relaxed and at peace, and the smile that graced his face was completely genuine.

Erestor wanted to feel happy along with him, but all he could think of was how glad the accord would have made Belegon. The captain had been his closest friend, and his death seemed to leave a black hole in Erestor's heart. Any joy that making peace with Glorfindel would have brought him was so dwarfed by the magnitude of the staggering loss he felt that it seemed not to exist at all.


Glorfindel smiled into the dancing flames of the small fire. They had stopped for a short rest. Night had fallen, and the clear sky was alight with glimmering silver stars. The world was calm and at peace.

He had not expected to feel as wonderful as he had upon coming to an agreement with Erestor. A heavy weight of guilt and hatred seemed to have slid off his shoulders and fallen to the ground. Arandur had been correct about Erestor, he thought, but now it was all dealt with and in the past. He could move on.

The only problem was that Erestor himself did not seem to feel the same way. If anything, he seemed worse. A few harsh words here and there had turned into no words at all, and his occasional irritated glances back at Glorfindel had also ceased. As the sheer shock of the disaster wore off, as well as the adjustment to his new position and injuries, the grief seemed to fully sink in. He never cried—Glorfindel would have been relieved if he had. He just seemed remote and detached. There was a dullness in his eyes that had nothing to do with his injuries, and he constantly seemed lost in thought.

They had stopped to rest under a small overhang of rock, and Glorfindel had taken watch while Erestor had almost immediately fallen fast asleep. Now Glorfindel's attention to the fire was broken by strange sounds coming from the corner that Erestor occupied. The warrior frowned and moved to see what was the matter.

Erestor was still asleep, but he was tossing and turning and mumbling. His pale face was creased in an expression of worry and horror. His hands were gripping the coverlet so hard that the knuckles were white, and he was panting.

"Erestor," said Glorfindel quietly. "Erestor, wake up." He reached for the uninjured shoulder and gave it a small shake.

Erestor's eyes snapped open. He immediately fell silent and blinked while he tried to catch his breath. A bead of sweat rolled off his forehead.

"Are you all right?" asked Glorfindel with concern.

Erestor swallowed and took a deep breath. "It was only a dream."

Glorfindel kept his hand on Erestor's shoulder. Though the horror was slowly fading, hints of terror still remained in the dark blue eyes and the thin hands were trembling. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

The pale Elf shook his head. "It is nothing. I am sorry I troubled you," he said dully.

He looked over the advisor with a critical eye. He did not know much about injuries and healing, but it was only common sense that this could not be doing Erestor's wounds any good. Though the bleeding from his shoulder had lessened considerably the last time he had checked it, it was still not even close to being completely healed, and emotional trauma might have an averse effect.

"Since you are awake, I might as well look at that shoulder of yours," Glorfindel said. "I hope none of the stitches were pulled."

Erestor nodded and allowed Glorfindel to carefully unwrap the layers of bandage. What Glorfindel saw did nothing to allay his concern—all the thrashing around had only made the injury bleed even more. At least none of the stitches had come out. After the painful ordeal for himself and Rasaras to put them in—the younger Elf had tried to keep Erestor calm, since the herbs could only do so much, and Glorfindel had done the actual stitching—he was not at all eager to redo any of them. Fortunately, it would not be necessary. But he was hardly relieved. He remembered having to have stitches in his forearm once, from an unfortunate accident in Gondolin with an overeager young trainee, and the bleeding had completely stopped in about an hour. This wound was not so different, but the stitches had been in all day long and the bleeding still continued. It was as if Erestor's natural Elven ability to heal quickly was gone.

Erestor's quiet voice broke through his thoughts. "It has not recovered, has it?"

Glorfindel frowned. He is too perceptive for his own good, he thought. "It is not recovered yet, but the stitches are firmly intact. You need not worry."

"I am not worried," answered Erestor. His voice was calm and tired. There was no fear in his eyes now, or even pain. The brilliant blue depths were just empty.

Glorfindel would have preferred anything to the advisor's present demeanor of listless detachment. It was as if Erestor was making no special effort to stay alive. He just existed. It was unsettling to Glorfindel—he knew how to deal with almost anything, but he had no experience with a person who simply did not care whether they lived or died. Even those he had seen facing imminent death cared about living. There was a vacancy to Erestor's eyes and speech that frightened him.

But surely Elrond would know how to help him. Elrond was a healer, and Glorfindel knew he had gifts for healing injuries of every kind, physical and otherwise. If anyone could help Erestor, it was Elrond.

He redid the bandages. "Well, if you are rested, we might as well continue our journey. Would you like another dose of those herbs?"

Erestor frowned. "I am not in pain."

"Well, I would like you to take them anyway. They might help."

The advisor sighed. "If you want me to take them, it makes no difference to me."

Glorfindel helped him up to a sitting position and mixed the crushed herbs with water. He used as much of the remedy as his conscience would let him—he knew he was drugging Erestor, but it was for his own good. If the Elf was in a drugged state of unconsciousness, he would not be thinking whatever depressing thoughts had made him so upset. Besides, the herbs might help his injuries.

Erestor took the cup and drank its contents without comment. It would only be a matter of time before he fell asleep again.

"This is for your own good," Glorfindel said to him as he put out the fire and began to gather their possessions. "It will help you heal."

"It makes no difference," repeated Erestor in a slurred voice. "I do not know why you even care." His eyes closed.


Author's Notes

Happy New Year, everyone! And just to let you know, the sequel to "Afternoon Tea" is in the editing stage.

EmySumei: ::smiles:: You know, I got the idea for that line from one I heard in a movie once. It's a favorite of mine, so I was glad to stick it in a story. :) If it makes anyone feel any better, I had about as much fun writing the deaths and consequences as everyone else had reading it. Thanks for reviewing!

Neige: Wow… it's always incredible when one of my favorite authors reviews something I've posted. I love "A Friday" dearly, even if I'm not that consistent of a reviewer. Erestor and Glorfindel have a lot to work out, certainly, and we'll see what happens with them. :D Thank you for reviewing… it's an honor!

seeing-spots: Hint taken. ;) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I promise to update soon! Thank you for reviewing, as always. :)

Avalon Estel: No, I couldn't kill off Rasaras. To be honest, when I was first planning the story, I thought that all four of them were going to die, but then I realized that I liked Rasaras (Rather, I liked Rasaras's name; you have no idea how much time I spent splicing bits of Sindarin together to come up with it… shallow reasoning, I know, but now I've actually written him and I love him for himself.) too much to let him die. So he got off with a broken arm. :) Thank you for your review, and here's your update!

Erestor: Well, I guess we can't always be profound. I know I'm not! And do you know, when I wrote the first draft I had imagined the burning separately, but I never thought to mention it. I'm glad you pointed that out. Glorfindel just needed an opportunity to be in charge, I think—he's a natural-born leader, and it suits him. He's a lot easier to deal with when he's calling the shots. Thank you for reviewing (you're wonderful) and please update EotTA soon… you left us hanging! By the way, thank you for wishing me good luck. Ten is the chapter I can't wait to post now!

SilverWolf7: Bad typing skills? Ha, you should see some of the stuff that ends up on my computer screen. Not pretty. I'm glad you liked this chapter… it was a bit difficult to write, since I wanted to make everything realistic (and I've never been in that situation myself) and at the same time I wanted to keep it from being a gory mess. Fear not, the sequel to "Afternoon Tea" is on the way… it's written, it just needs to be edited. Thank you for reviewing! (And please update "Lost" soon!!)

moonlit-leaf: Thank you so much! I agree, Erestor and Glorfindel aren't featured often enough, and so I had to take C. S. Lewis's advice to Tolkien and "write one myself." Thank you for reviewing!

Elwen: Couldn't kill off Erestor? Why, you're not implying that maybe I like him, are you? ;) Actually, reactions to death are another area in which I'm writing what I don't know, so I'm pretty much guessing. Thank you! And sorry about the horses… at least Súlfëa survived, her personality intact. And as for Belegon… ::sighs:: I might have to do a prequel or something just so I can work with Belegon more. I really liked him. Thanks for reviewing, as always! And by the way, I got your e-mail about the website (sorry, I'm a horror for responding to people) and I'll have to see about posting. There are parental limits on what I can do on the Internet, so I'll have to clear it with them first. But I'll let others know to help you out!

Dragon Confused: Another review from a favorite author! ::is staggered:: Thank you so much for your kind words… I'm glad you liked "Snowballs"! Erestor is so much fun to write.

Hathor: I wondered if this was going to come up! Glorfindel's ancestry… I can honestly say that my guess is just that and nothing more. Tolkien never said specifically, as far as I know. The only family line with golden hair among the Elves that Tolkien elaborated on is the golden house of Finarfin, since Indis was a Vanya, but the children are clearly Noldor. I can't imagine that Tolkien would have ignored Glorfindel if his case was either similar or the same. Glorfindel's age was never mentioned, so I simply assumed that he was a Vanya from Valinor, possibly one that came over the Helcaraxë. I'm considering writing a story about Glorfindel's experiences in that time period, but it will have to wait until "First Impressions" and its sequel(s) are done. And I'm also assuming that Erestor hailed from Eregion, and was therefore a Noldo. I'm trying to stay as close to the canon as I can, but if I'm wrong in my guesses, I'm sorry. But I'm glad that you enjoy this one, and "Snowballs"! Thank you for your review!

Noldo: Ugh, finals. Be strong, be very strong. Actually mine went very well (except for the trigonometry one), thanks for asking! Good luck with your own. I'm a little surprised and a lot grateful as to what you said about how Rasaras reacted… having never lost anyone close to me like that, it was just a guess based on human nature. I'm glad it sounded realistic! Belegon is one of the first characters that I have written, learned to love, and then killed off, so I was slightly traumatized after I wrote that last chapter. I miss him. Is this a soon enough update? ;) Take care, and thank you for your review!

Tiryns: Thank you for your review! It's good to find another fan of Erestor and Glorfindel. I definitely agree; there isn't enough good fanfiction about those two. Continuing as requested… ;)

Coming Soon: Chapter Nine: Running