Chapter Thirteen: Letting Go


The healers had left the window open.

Erestor sighed. The funeral was going on outside, and with the shades on the window pulled back, he could hear the laments quite clearly.

Too clearly, in fact.

He closed his eyes as another clear voice rose above the solemn flutes. The Quenya seemed to simply float on the air. Erestor tried not to listen to the words, but even the tone was rife with sadness.

He turned away from the window, facing the wall, but he could still hear the songs. They were singing for the fallen warriors. They were singing for Belegon.

His throat tightened. It was not as if he had never lost a friend before. That was, unfortunately, something that had happened to him more than once. But he had never been there, he had never seen the gloating face of his friend's murderer, he had never seen…

He swallowed. If he was grateful to Glorfindel for only one thing, it was that he had never let him see Belegon after the captain had died. The Vanya had made sure that Erestor's view of the fallen Elves was blocked, and that by the time he woke up again, they were far away from the slaughter. It was a small gesture, really, but Erestor was very grateful for it. Perhaps Glorfindelhad changed

Another voice rose, this one in harmony with the first. They were singing in Sindarin now. It was impossible not to listen.

Erestor clutched the blanket that had been laid over him. This was why he had not wanted to attend the funeral, why he had insisted on being left to himself… it was just too much…

The lament gained strength as the assembled mourners and bereaved families joined in.

He shut his eyes more tightly. He could not ignore it. The song was there, the grief of the mourners was there, and the realization that Belegon and the others had left Middle-earth forever was there as well. The facts were in front of him, as cold and hard and clear and sharp as the icicles dangling from the roof.

The warmth of the fire seemed to die in the room. He could not run from the truth of it any longer.

He was cold, hurting, and utterly alone.


The funeral was to Glorfindel what funerals always were: a mixture of melancholy and despair and hope. Hope for the dead, despair from the family, and melancholy from everyone in attendance. If there was one thing that Glorfindel would never be able to reconcile himself with, it was melancholy. It made no sense to him.

The other thing that jarred him was Erestor's conspicuous absence. He had known that the advisor would not attend, since he had all but demanded to be left alone in his room, but he still had a sinking feeling when the laments began without the dark-haired Elf. It didn't seem right. Erestor should be here.

Elrond leaned over and asked why Erestor was not present. He kept his voice quiet, so as not to disturb the mourners.

Glorfindel told him everything that Erestor had said, finishing with "and the healers told me that Erestor asked them to stay out of his room unless it was absolutely necessary."

Elrond's face remained neutral, and all he said was, "Hmm."

That one word told Glorfindel everything he wanted to know. He unobtrusively edged his way to the back of the crowd and left. It wasn't right.

The main house was silent, since almost everyone was outside at the funeral. Annoyance edged into Glorfindel's mind as he walked the halls, heading for Erestor's room in the healing halls. The Elf was just sulking. Glorfindel had done everything in his power to help him, to reach out to him, but there was never a favorable response. And it seemed that everyone else who had been to see him—though, admittedly, there were not many—had said the same thing.

It was time to put an end to that, once and for all.

There were a few healers milling around the halls, but no one seemed to object to Glorfindel's presence. He smiled at the few that noticed him, but did not stop to converse as he made his way to Erestor's room.

He stopped at the familiar door, but just as he was reaching for the handle, he paused. Perhaps he was being insensitive. After all, Erestor had just lost his best friend, and though that had been days ago, Erestor had been unconscious for most of that time. To him, it was still a painfully recent event.

Glorfindel sighed and shook his head. Hesitation would not help anyone. He pushed open the door.

The first thing that he noticed was the open window. A light breeze blew in, cool with the scent of freshly fallen snow. Icicles caught the amber glow of the sunset, sparkling like flecks of topaz along the roof's edge. The haunting laments echoed in the room, but they were the only noise that pierced the stillness.

Then he realized that there was another noise after all. It sounded like… shivering.

Glorfindel mentally kicked himself. What was he thinking? Erestor was still unwell, and it would hardly be right to confront him when he was already weak. But then, he had been sure that Elrond had remedied Erestor's sensitivity to cold. Was he relapsing?

He walked to the corner of the room, where Erestor was still lying on the bed. As Glorfindel had expected, the Elf had drawn the blanket tightly around himself. His face was practically buried in the soft pillow, his back to the rest of the room.

Glorfindel sighed and bent to touch Erestor's face, the only part of him that was not covered with bandages or blankets. If the skin was cold, he would close the window, add another log to the fire, and summon one of the healers outside.

He was startled when his fingertips brushed Erestor's face. It was not cold at all… it was actually slightly warm. And it was wet. Glorfindel drew back his hand.

Erestor wasn't shivering. He was crying.

Glorfindel sat down on the edge of the mattress, rendered speechless for one of the first times in his existence. This was not what he had been expecting. He had thought to find a combative Erestor, perhaps, or even a morose Erestor. But not this. This required an entirely different method of handling.

He swallowed and touched Erestor's shoulder lightly, avoiding the bandages. "Erestor? Are you all right?"

Erestor did not answer, but neither did he try to shrug off Glorfindel's hand.

Glorfindel kicked off his light shoes and then rearranged himself more comfortably, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin. He was unsure of how to go about helping Erestor. It was not as if anything he had tried in the past ever worked.

"Why are you here?"

The words were so quietly spoken, and so unexpected, that for a moment Glorfindel was not sure that he had heard them. "Pardon me?" he asked.

Erestor turned to face him, self-consciously wiping at his face with his sleeve. His skin was flushed, and there were telltale red rims around his eyes. He did not meet Glorfindel's gaze. "Why are you here? I thought that you were going to the funeral."

Glorfindel shrugged. "The dead do not need me."

"What about their families? Their friends?"

Glorfindel waited until Erestor looked up at him before answering. "You tell me," he said, staring into Erestor's blue eyes, startled at the naked grief and dark shadows that he saw. "What about Belegon's friend?"

Erestor broke eye contact. "I need no one," he mumbled. "Please leave me alone."

Glorfindel opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it. This was exactly what Erestor had done every other time: he would come so close to coming out of his shell, but then he would shut himself up like a door slamming in Glorfindel's face. It frustrated Glorfindel to no end, but perhaps that meant that it was time for a new strategy. They were here, they were alone, and the funeral still had an hour or so to go.

Another lament began outside. Glorfindel listened to the flowing words, then realized that this one was specifically for the fallen captain. It spoke of his courage, and bravery in defending his men, and of the honor that he would receive in the Halls of Mandos.

Glorfindel glanced down at Erestor and saw that the Elf had closed his eyes tightly, and that tears were gathering around his eyelashes. He felt a stab of compassion for the advisor… after all, Belegon had been his friend, probably the only real one he had in Imladris.

Without warning, his thoughts flew back to his own stay in the Halls of Mandos. There were many things about that time that he had trouble remembering clearly, but there was one thing that he remembered as clearly as if it had just happened: the time he had spent with Nienna. She had taught him about the danger of grief without release, of holding on to sorrow without letting go. She had held him, as she did all who came to the Halls, and let him weep into her soft blue gown. She had cried with him.

Glorfindel reached again for Erestor's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "I miss him too, Erestor," he said.

It was as if he had finally chipped away the last fragment of Erestor's reserve. The dark-haired Elf turned away with a jerk, making a little choked sound as the sob caught in his throat. He brought a shielding hand up to his face and curled up as much as he could in the blanket, his back to Glorfindel, weeping.

Glorfindel was torn between pity and relief. Pity because Erestor was so upset, and relief because he was finally letting it out. It was like breaking the dam of a swollen river.

"It's all right," he murmured, reaching forward to rub Erestor's back in a circular pattern. "There is no shame in mourning. Let it go."

Erestor did not answer. His whole body was trembling. He hardly made any sound, but his breathing was ragged and forced, as if the sobs were being torn from him.

The lament for Belegon outside ended as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Elrond began to speak, and Glorfindel reached over and closed the window so that Erestor would not be interrupted.

After a while, Erestor's weeping began to subside. He remained in the curled position, but the tension in his back seemed to ease.

Glorfindel reached into the pocket of his robe and fished around until he found a handkerchief. He held it out to Erestor. "Here, take this."

Erestor turned back around, maneuvering himself to sit against the back wall. He accepted the handkerchief with mumbled gratitude and began to wipe at the tears on his flushed face. He folded the handkerchief neatly and handed it back to Glorfindel. "Thank you."

Glorfindel gave him a kind smile. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes." Erestor stared at his hands, still taking deep breaths. He looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said.

The older Elf frowned. "For what?"

Erestor fidgeted with the folds of the blanket. "Everything."

Glorfindel took a deep breath and then turned on the mattress so that he was directly facing Erestor. "That reminds me," he said. "While you were unconscious, I had a lot of time to think, and I have come to…"

"Wait," interrupted Erestor, closing his eyes. "Before you say anything, Lord Glorfindel, please let me finish.There is no excuse for anything I said or did, or for the way I treated you.I acted shamefully, and I beg your forgiveness, though I do not merit it in the least."

Glorfindel had paused mid-sentence, but now he shut his mouth with a decisive snap. Leave it to Erestor to interrupt his planned apology and make him forget everything he had been meaning to say.

He sighed. "Erestor…"

The advisor gazed at him, a look on his face half of pleading and half of dread. "Yes?"

Glorfindel paused. This was his chance to apologize. Erestor would listen now, if he ever would. But suddenly the planned apology sounded too stiff and formal. He would have to just be honest, with both Erestor and himself.

"I think that we started wrong from the beginning," he said, looking Erestor in the eyes. "We both made mistakes. You said things that you shouldn't have said, and so did I. Neither of us is blameless.

"I don't want to be your enemy, Erestor." He gestured to the window, as if pointing to the cave where the battle had taken place. "There are enough servants of the Shadow in this world to be my enemies, and I do not need to make any more for myself here at home. I misjudged you from the beginning, but I see my mistake now and I want to make it right." He sighed. "Can we simply start over as friends?"

Erestor blinked. "You would do that?"

Glorfindel gave a wry smile. "I would rather be your friend than your enemy. You are very good at pushing me into snowdrifts, but since you have a bandaged shoulder and a broken ankle, I think I have an unfair advantage at the moment."

The dark-haired Elf reached up to touch the bandage. "You always have the advantage, I think," he said.

"Regardless of that," said Glorfindel, waving a dismissive hand, "I would like to simply call a truce." He reached forward, offering Erestor his hand. "Friends?"

Erestor looked at the hand, then at the Elf, and slowly the shadow began to fade from his eyes. He gave a small smile and reached forward to shake Glorfindel's hand. "Very well."

Glorfindel grasped Erestor's hand and then pulled him forward into a hug. Erestor went rigid with surprise, and then tentatively returned it. When he pulled back, Glorfindel was grinning.

And slowly, timidly, like the stars opening in the night sky, Erestor began to smile too.


Author's Notes

seeing-spots: Wow, that happened to you? Definitely scary. I felt sorry for Erestor while I was writing that part, and he wasn't the only one relieved when he woke up… the author was too! I hope Grinding Ice is coming along well. Thank you for reviewing!

ellfine: Thank you! I'm glad that you like Rasaras… I love him too. Eltathar does what he can. Glorfindel has come to a realization… belated, perhaps, but at last he has. Thank you again for reviewing!

Avalon Estel: Aw, poor Glor. (gets him out of the straightjacket) Run along and behave. Yes, it's not a good idea to try to play doctor when you don't really know what you're doing… I think Glorfindel learned his lesson. I'm glad that you liked the chapter! It's great to know that. Crying isn't stupid. I'm really glad that you like Eltathar! He's one of my favorites… along with all of the other characters, of course. (blushes) And don't be so hard on Erestor… while everyone else had a chance to recover, he was unconscious, and that wasn't exactly recovery time. He misses his best friend. He'll be all right, though. :) Yes, fine, I'll update sooner. ;) Thank you for reviewing!

Golden Elf: Erestor does need someone. He tries to push people away, but in the end he's going to have to accept the fact that he can't be an island. Glorfindel is certainly capable in pulling people out of despair. Thank you so much for your review!

kingmaker: Thank you! I was a little worried that I would go overboard in making Erestor a sympathetic character—since he's my favorite character, I often tend to be a little fangirly when I write him. I'm glad that you like Rasaras… he's been a challenge, since he's a completely original character, but he's a joy to write. And I really appreciate what you said about character drama… I worry sometimes about what people will think of these kinds of scenes, since there's very little action, but lots of character drama. I'm glad you think that I've come to a happy medium. :) Thank you!

Frodo's sister: Thank you very much! Afternoon Tea is one of my shortest pieces, but at the same time one of my favorites. Erestor and Pippin are such opposites that they have very interesting conversations. :)

LOTRFaith: Those Author Alerts are tricky. Believe me, I sympathize! Yes, Rasaras is home, but there is still more healing for him. And I agree about one of Erestor's flaws being that he feels too much. According to my history for Erestor (which is till in the planning stage), he's still a relatively young Elf at this point (about 350-400-ish). And that is a rather sad thought. :( Thank you for your review!

kenzimone: Well, I aim to please! ;) Yes, that is a rather ironic thought, but Elrond isn't always like that. Rasaras's family is glad to see them, and that can be a bit—overwhelming. Glorfindel is exactly what Erestor needs in a friend, whether Erestor wants to admit it or not. Their resolution will come. Thank you for reviewing!

Noldo: You're very mean. Threatening your poor school-friends with no math help is truly cruel… ;) You would probably have a hard time finding me even if you did know where I live. I'm a very ordinary person, except for fanfiction. Blink and you'd miss me. I'm glad that you like the Rasaras parts! He isn't in this chapter, I'm sorry to say, but he'll be in the next one. I feel sorry for Erestor as well… I've never lost anyone close to me, or been to a funeral for someone that I cared about, so it's hard for me to identify. I'm glad that you liked that line… I snickered myself when I wrote it. Thank you for your review!

EmySumei: Erestor can get sulky… another one of his flaws, unfortunately. Glorfindel will be good for him, once he quits being so stubborn. I agree, the fault lies with the humans. I definitely agree that Imladris was the best Elven realm in the Third Age! Now, if we start comparing Imladris to Gondolin, or Doriath, or Eregion… but no, Imladris is the best during its time. And Galadriel should be careful about her mind probes… knowledge is a dangerous thing. Thank you for reviewing!

BanbieBunny: Sorry it took so long to update! Real life, unfortunately, has been awful lately. At least it hasn't been too long… right? Don't answer that question…. ;) I don't blame you for sympathizing with Erestor. I love him myself. I don't think he'll be offended if you pity him. Thank you for your review!

Ramarama: That's pretty much it. Erestor does need a hug. But I'm sure that Glorfindel can help him. Sorry about the chapter length… I keep them to about two-and-a-half thousand words per chapter, but that doesn't seem like much to a reader… only the author. Thank you for reviewing!

Coolio02: Thank you so much! Is this update quick enough? ;)

SilverWolf7: Hmph. I got your review, read it, and thought "NO! She guessed my plot!" Yes, it pretty much all happened like you said (other than the slapping part). I had already written most of it before I got your review. Am I really that predictable? (sigh.) That dream does sound strange! Thank you for your review! (And how is Lost coming along…?) ;)

Erestor: Thank you! I had been more than a little worried about Erestor's "wake-up" scene, so I'm glad that I finally managed to pull it off. Erestor-Glorfindel interaction has to be one of my favorite things about writing this story… Rasaras is wonderful, Allie is cute, Lindir is endearing, but my fangirl's heart is given to Erestor and Glorfindel. They're so much fun to write. :) Erestor is pretty close to sulking… help is indeed what he needs, and we know just who can get it to him. ;) Thank you for reviewing!

Blade Swinger: I'm so glad that you liked Fallen to Ashes! I always felt sorry for the Fëanorians, even though their deeds were awful. Maedhros, Maglor, and Celegorm are my favorites… Maglor because he's tragic, Maedhros because he's tragic too, and Celegorm because he was so fair. I don't know why, but the description of Celegorm as "the Fair" always makes me so sad for his corruption and death. And actually, in my family, I'm the personal-space freak… six inches, people:) Thank you for your review!

Coming Soon: Chapter Fourteen: Healing