Gil - Galad was an Elven King
Rose G
Disclaimer - All settings and characters are the property of JRR Tolkien; I have made no money from their use
Elrond sat by the window in the Hall of Fire, legs drawn up to his chest, hugging his knees. The evening sun drenched his face, the warmth of it somehow stronger since he had worn Vilya. Feelings had been stronger too, friendship deeper, grief harsher and more piecing, pain more crippling. He couldn't recall having felt anything else since then.
The sun should have risen for you, Ereinion, son of kings. You should stand here in my Halls, see me as Lord in my own right. My father's star that you were named for should have shone on us both, on Middle- Earth free of all fear. Why did you not share in our victory?
A door slammed, footsteps rung on the stone floor. I said I was not to be disturbed here; do they not remember? He looked around, half expecting to see the one that he thought of standing there.
'My Lord.' Glorfindel nodded his respect and walked into the chamber, stopping when he stood next to the Half-Elf, gazing into the forest. 'They said you were here.'
'Aye.'
'You would rather not be here then, I take it?'
'How well you know me.' Elrond laughed sardonically, a forced sound. 'His grave is far away but Imladris needs her Lord here until all is settled.'
'I have run kingdoms before, Lord Elrond. I would have coped.'
' "Before the fall of mighty kings in Nargothrond and Gondolin
Who now beyond the Western seas have passed away"
That was long ago, Glorfindel.'
'What does time matter, Elrond?'
'Time destroys all. Your city, my brother, my king. If time had not passed, I would have still served Ereinion.'
'Time heals all griefs, my Lord, and mends all scars.'
'And one year only is too short for the first and too long for the second! If I stilll hurt, I would not feel that I had betrayed him. Why should he not be here to share this day with us?'
'Because, if he had lived, you would not have come here. Imladris would be another just settled valley, bare in winter, green in summer, not a haven. Those refugees you house would be nowhere, I would still be wandering. Or maybe, without your healing, I would have died. If your king had lived, you would have had none of this. Does that not help?'
Elrond's voice thickened. 'No, it does not.' Nothing I value now is equal to how much I valued his life.
'No, I did not think it would. But the Alliance was a victory; his army won. There can hardly be a finer way to die.'
'There is no fine way to die!' His pain was evident in his voice, on his face. The dark braids swung as he turned away from Glorfindel, to look into his room and ignore the stinging pain in his eyes. 'He died in agony, Glorfindel. He screamed and screamed... have you ever listened to someone die in torment? He lay in my arms as he died. I thought I would die there with him. Do you know what that is like?'
'Yes, Elrond. You forget who I am.' He spoke kindly; aware of how Elrond felt, wondering if it would help to recount his own experience of death.
'One year, one year - I remember everything of that day. There was no time for grief then, as Sauron still lived. And later, when it was over, I buried him myself. Isildur had left...'
Glorfindel could see it too clearly. A battleground, dead Men and Elves and Orcs. Flags flying, swords laying broken, a spear shattered on the slopes of Mount Doom. The remments of two armies, the greatest ever raised, and in the shadows, Elrond burying his king. Then a lonely, wounded figure, hair and robes flying, walking through the twilight. Too proud to weep, too hurt to trust.
'There has been no time for grief since, has there?'
'I do not need to remember him, or grieve for him, Glorfindel. I need to rule Imladris.'
'Yes, you do. And you need to feel. Will you not listen to me? My family, my home are gone - I know what you feel.'
'No, you don't, else you would have left me alone on today of all days. One day is all I ask.'
'You do not have to be alone to grieve. Remembering - that can be telling of what he was like, talking about him.'
Elrond shut his eyes, swallowed hard. 'I cannot.'
'May I sit down?' Without waiting, he sat next to Elrond.
'If you must. First you say I should grieve and then you stay here so I cannot.'
'You have been alone ever since that day; it hasn't helped. Share some of it, some of the pain.'
'You never knew him. He was my king, mine. You could never understand what I felt for him, not when you missed the Alliance, and all of his life.'
'You're letting his memory go. The others will forget him.'
'He will never be forgotten while I live.' Elrond made a show of rubbing his eyes; Glorfindel could see the tears marking his face. 'Ever.'
Glorfindel sighed, fell silent for a while. 'They are feasting at moonrise; one year since Sauron fell. They will expect to see their lord tonight. Will you come?'
'He died as evening fell. A year ago today, I made my dinner of cold roots and as I eat, his blood was still on my hands. How can I feast tonight?'
'There will be music and dancing as well. Believe me, it will help to hear life and laughter again.'
Elrond shook his head, more silent tears staining his face. He wiped them away on pretence of tiredness.
Glorfindel stood, went to lay his hand on Elrond's shoulder and decided against it. He stood at the door briefly, looked back at the crouched figure on the chair, black against the glorious sunset over the woods and tried one last plea. 'If you do come to the feast tonight, Elrond, please wear something over then black robes of mourning.'
The whispered reply barely reached him. 'Dead is what I feel. Dead is what I am.'
