GLH137 Awake

Glorfindel stirred…

There were voices, somewhere outside his body… (Body? What body?) and a warmth that felt like a glow of gold shimmered through him. He recognised one or two of them, familiar, beloved, missed.

Mel, sweet Melpomaen, a sense of sorrow to his tone. Lindir, musically sad…

Others, some less-beloved, but, oh, one that had meant so much more, so much to him…

Triwathon.

Oh, Triwathon…!

So very, very dear to him, once, and still dear, in other ways. So important that Glorfindel had ridden out from Imladris to fight dragons for him…

The voices faded, and Glorfindel began to feel less ethereal, as if he had a body, or at least the impression of one, waiting somewhere near at hand. As he settled, he drew on his memories of what it was like to be alive, what to be dead, and all the stages possible around those conditions…

Námo. Halls of Waiting. Oh, yes…

Not a body, then, not yet, just… consciousness.

Aware and almost awake, he focussed his attention…

Someone was holding his hand very, very gently, as if they were not really there.

Someone was sobbing softly; it sounded like bells.

Someone dear to him dearer than… oh, than anything…

Ecthelion…?

Ecthelion.

As yet, Glorfindel hadn't turned his head, hadn't looked around, and although his instinct now was to do so, to speak, a sudden recollection of Triwathon lifting a bottle of honey beer, tipping his head back to expose his throat as he drank…

What had he done?

Oh, Ecthelion…!

Suddenly it didn't matter that Thel had freed him from his vows; they were still fëa-mates, and on some level Glorfindel couldn't quite believe he hadn't transgressed in some terrible, dreadful, unforgivable way.

But it had always been Thel, always, always would be.

And Ecthelion, it was sure it was he, was weeping over him and trying to hold his hand.

All right. He was ready. Well, no, he was never going to be ready, but Thel… how he loved his Thel! Moonlight and starlight and courage and sweet, sweet song, his Thel…

He allowed himself to sigh down into himself and made a small noise that could have been heard as 'whflflf'. The sobbing ceased. The faint sense of touch strengthened fractionally, softened again.

Glorfindel sighed and his lips curved in a smile.

'There's a touch I've longed for,' he said softly. 'I'd know your hand anywhere, Thel, even here. Talking of which, what are you doing here, still?'

'Waiting for you, of course. You look wonderful.'

'I feel like I've been fighting dragons... oh, wait. I think I actually did...'

'Well, you'd better tell me about it, then. And... did you...? No, I can see you found someone... was he kind to you?'

It was too much to bear. He turned away, wracked with regret and guilt, dry, harsh sobs that didn't do anything to help and only sounded ugly and wrong in the soft silences of the Halls of Waiting. Suddenly it all surged up and he found himself apologising, trying to explain he'd never meant to fall in love, that he was so, so sorry…

'We can sort all that out later,' Thel, wonderful, kind Ecthelion was saying. Tell me, then. Tell me who loved you. Tell me who saved you.'

'S...saved me? He did, but how did you know?'

'Your scars are gone, Fin. So whoever it was helped you find healing; I would know who to thank, should we meet, one day.'

Gone? How could they be gone, there were his history, they were… they were his identity…

But Thel had waited so long for him, he deserved not to wait for an answer, at least. He stumbled into a garbled explanation.

'Thel, it is over, finished,' he ended. 'It was finished long ago, and I love you, I do, and I was coming home to you, and then I heard about the dragon...'

'Coming home?'

'Back to you, Ecthelion, my Lord of the Fountains of the Singing Waters, my forever-love. You are where my home is, always.' He scowled, avoiding the tears that clamoured again at his eyes. 'But, oh, Thel, I love you so much! We never meant to, and, well, I was only a little bit in love... But you...have you changed towards me?' His voice was trembling, he couldn't help it. 'Is it too much for you to bear, I...?'

It was agony waiting… Ecthelion hadn't used any of the words he'd used to, no fine, silly endearments, not even a refined 'dear one'… it wasn't like him…

'Hush, love, no, I haven't changed... you are still my fëa-mate, my forever-love,' Ecthelion said. 'I am only sorry you had to ask...'

Relief was a wave over him, but Ecthelion had not yet done.

'…Glorfindel, my Fin, I love you. You are the sunlight that bathes my fëa, you are golden, glorious, a shining leonine hero. You are my golden flower, my sunbeam, my light, and I love you, love you more than I did, because I freed you for your fëa's sake and you returned to me of your own free will…'

Every word, every expression made Glorfindel feel more steady, safer, more real, somehow. This was where his identity was, here, in the love of this amazing elf, and not in signs that he had fought and been injured…! And Ecthelion, wonderful, wonderful, beautiful Ecthelion, drew him out, encouraged him to talk about Triw, so, of course, he did, because it seemed the only way he could show he hadn't taken his love for Thel lightly was to show that the one he'd been close to had been exceptional…

Still, he tried to make it brief; there was a tautness to his beloved's expression that suggested this wasn't comfortable hearing…

'So that was it, for a long time,' Glorfindel ended. 'And Triwathon had someone who loved him waiting for him to realise it. When he's ready, he will be loved.'

'As you are loved, and have been always loved,' Ecthelion had said. 'But that was not the last you knew of him, it cannot have been?'

Thus encouraged, Glorfindel gave a sort of lying-down shrug.

'Well, we had news of each other... he'd send a note amongst the formal missives for me, I'd reply... just, how are you, killed any good Balrogs lately, sort of thing. He moved on and I... I thought I had, too. Even found another friend...'

Oops…

He really hadn't intended telling Thel about Melpomaen, not just yet… He shrugged it off as best he could. 'The Silvans have a way of looking at things. Yes, there is that perfect fëa-mate for each and every one of us. But you might not find them straight away, so why not have fun seeking? Not that this other one was Silvan, but by then, they'd widened our outlook.'

'So... you're telling me you had two lovers...?' Ecthelion said as Glorfindel pushed himself up in the bed, shaking his head and grinned. Brazening it out.

'No, not as such... Triwathon, yes. The other... he was a bed-friend, there was no real love there on either side. Just warm friendship... sorry. Is that too much?'

Ecthelion laughed, surprising Glorfindel.

'No, not at all... Just the opposite, in fact; it shows that, yes, there's nothing for me to worry about where your friend Triwathon is concerned; you were there for each other but you've both released the ties of your fëar...'

'Yes. Oh, he was glad to see me when we did meet up again, but that might have been because he needed help with his dragon problem, but I realised I was over him, Thel. And now I'm back with you. I... I know it must hurt, even though you released me, but...'

'You needed to do this, Fin,' Ecthelion said as Glorfindel swung round to face his beloved. 'And I think, had I not freed you, you would have needed to seek companionship anyway. I think you probably would have tried not to, and only succeeded in damaging yourself more. This way, at least there's no guilt or secrecy.'

'I wonder how long I'll need to spend in reflection this time?' Fin asked. 'Because I really, really want to hold you, Thel, to... well. And just think, when I do leave here, I'll – we'll both be in fresh bodies... untouched... a new start for us both... Virgins, I suppose...'

Ecthelion grinned and sighed, and fluttered his eyelashes.

'You will be gentle with me, won't you?' he asked.

Glorfindel laughed and tossed his hair.

'Ai, Thel! I was going to ask you that...!'

When they had both stopped laughing, Ecthelion shook his head, a fond smile on his face.

'Ah, my dear golden love! It is a joy to have you awake, at last! I thought you would sleep for all eternity!'

'Well, I think I was in a bit of a mess, at the end. Maybe it took time. But, Thel, why are you not out in the world? We were going to build a house by the sea… remember?'

'I do indeed, but I had no heart to build alone. I wanted to wait for you, so we can step forth together.'

'That's very sweet of you, love.' It was hard, knowing Thel had kept himself secluded from the world, another bitter thread of guilt… 'Has the time weighed on you?'

'Only recently. Knowing you were here, but not being permitted to sit with you until very lately. I am sure our host has his reasons, but it has been hard…'

'How's our good Lord Námo been, then?'

Ecthelion considered this for a moment.

'In truth, he has been quite attentive, in a looming sort of way. Once in a while he brings news of the world outside – your world, that is. Occasionally, a companion.'

'Oho…! Anyone I need worry about?'

Glorfindel said it with a cheeky grin that made Thel smile in spite of himself.

'Oh, he brought me a very handsome king to talk to, wasn't that nice? But nobody you need worry about.'

'A king?'

'Oropher. Lord Námo said he was bored to tears with trying to get the old fellow to see his elves had never blamed him for what happened – a battle where things went awry…? And would I take a shot at keeping him from becoming too morose. He bears too large a burden of guilt, but when he can be persuaded to forget himself, he can play a fair board of chess. And he did bring me news of you, beloved golden light, so for that I put up with his interminable self-reproach.'

'I remember him,' Glorfindel said. 'Saw how it ended for him, one of those things you can never unsee…'

'He speaks well of you, if of few others. Now, come. We should see if you can remember how to clothe yourself now you're awake, and we can perhaps leave this room. I have seen rather too much of it, my dear, for the present.'

'I can just do that? Leave with you?'

A darkness lit with light splintered in the doorway.

'The room, yes, Glorfindel. My domain? Not quite yet.'

'Lord Námo,' Glorfindel said, trying to hide the dismay in his voice. 'Oh. We were just… hello.'

'Indeed,' Námo said, and he might well have been smiling. 'Ecthelion, your watch has been rewarded, I see. You may both attend me.'

'Am I going to be here long, my lord?' Glorfindel asked, staying close to Ecthelion as they followed Námo out of the chamber and through darkness to a lofty room with shadowed corners and formal furnishings – Lord Námo's study, Fin thought, vaguely remembering it from his previous sojourn in the Halls. Námo placed himself behind a desk and gestured to chairs set before it.

'You will be here as long as you need to be, Glorfindel,' Námo said. 'You have reparations to make. It is true that in your second life you did much good, you sacrificed your wishes time and again for others. Even your death was a sacrifice, made for the good of others. But along the way…'

'Not every choice is a good choice for everyone, is it, Lord?' Glorfindel sighed. 'The dragon that killed me… she was only doing what dragons do, what anyone does – teaching her young how to take care of themselves. They'd been disturbed in the mountains when some Dwarves settled there and driven off, and some of the dragonets killed. I know, it's dragons, but they were her actual babies, do you see? And to her, any living thing is a food source, elves included, however awful to the elves concerned…'

'I was not really thinking about the dragons, Glorfindel,' Námo said. 'When your lord was away once, did you not hide empty wine bottles around his study? And were they not discovered at an inopportune moment, bringing said lord considerable embarrassment in front of his sons?'

'Oh. That. Well, Elrond was being an idiot… Anyway, I didn't pick the timing of it, if he hadn't chosen that night to gather us all together for a nice scold… well.'

'Indeed.'

'Elrond?' Ecthelion asked. 'The Herald of Gil-Galad? Oropher has told me all about him, whyever would you call him lord?'

Glorfindel sighed again with a helpless gesture.

'Because he's Idril's grandson, and Eärendil's son. I promised Turgon I'd do my best to protect her and her line, and Elrond was part of it. Mind, his sons are good lads. That's one reason I couldn't Sail, they were good friends when I needed it. Not… you know, friends.' Glorfindel looked sideways at Ecthelion, shuddering. 'But I owed them. And it seemed every time I tried to find a ship, there was a war going on, or dragons, or the lads' granddad was poorly… Anyway. Elrond sailed, and I thought, well, when his daughter… oh, another long story. But I knew the lads would need me then. That's pretty much how it's been for a long time… But I'm here now.'

'Indeed you are,' Ecthelion murmured, smiling fondly.

'No doubt my Halls will never be the same!' Lord Námo said with a long-suffering exhalation. 'But… dragons aside, deaths aside, embarrassing one's lord aside… there is something more important than that. You and Ecthelion have much to discuss.'

'We've made a start,' Glorfindel said. 'That is, I… have told him the important things. It's a lot, to ask for forgiveness, but I'm willing to work for it.'

'I have already said, there is nothing to forgive!' Ecthelion protested. 'I freed you from your vows, and I can only be glad that you were not alone all this time…'

'Forgiveness or no, child Ecthelion, there is still pain, there is still distress; I can see it in you. In both of you, in fact. Take time to talk, here, where you cannot actually inflict physical harm on one another!'

Lord Námo smiled to show he was not entirely serious; too many teeth made it look more like a rictus. Both hastened to agree to talk and listen to one another.

'Good. I will keep an eye on you – on both of you, of course. Now, Oropher seems to still be waiting for his game of chess. Would you like me to sit in for you, Ecthelion? You can show Glorfindel the gardens.'

'Gardens? I have been here how many ages, and you did not tell me you had gardens?'

'You had no need of the gardens before. Now you do. Go on, run along. You know how it works, think 'garden' and follow the thought.'

'Does it really hurt, Thel, love?'

They were in Lord Námo's gardens, trying to hold hands and managing just to place their fingers together, so that event though they couldn't feel the touch, they could see it was there.

This particular part of the gardens bore more resemblance to a dark and mysterious fern grotto than any pleasance, and Thel was silent, watching the slow drip of clear water over the rim of an artfully planted cliff face as he sought to answer both honestly and in such a way that did not cause his beloved golden Glorfindel more distress.

'At first, beloved, it hurt terribly, and not for one reason alone. To have you taken from me in such a way, to know you were being sent back into a world of danger and risk… and that I was not permitted to accompany you, that you would have to find your way alone… it was unbearable!'

Ecthelion looked down at their almost-joined hands, tried harder to feel the touch of Glorfindel's fingers.

'But there was another source of distress. Imagine my acute embarrassment that I was not thought adequate for the task myself – that all my skills as a warrior were set at nought… Oh, no, you won't do, Ecthelion – we want Glorfindel!... Mind, I cannot blame them. You would be my choice of hero, were I to be asked, anywhere.'

'Ah, Thel…! I've missed you so much… I was glad you weren't there, in a way. They drowned Gondolin. We sailed over it and one of the wizards – Curumo, it was – told me. Just casually, as if he were pointing out a curiosity; there's a sea gull, oh, and look, that's where you died, Glorfindel… he's supposed to be wise, but I don't know, it seemed… tactless. Anyway. It was a bit odd, to think poor Gondolin was lost forever, after all we did to try to protect her…'

'Gondolin lives on in our hearts, Glorfindel. Not but that she was not, on occasion, little better than a corral… still, she was home.'

'Home. That's it, really; I never felt at home anywhere. Rivendell was all very well in its way – and in the early days, when we were making something of it, there was an energy, a sense of community. But it was never where I felt at ease. You weren't there.'

'Glorfindel… my golden one, my shining light…'

Ah, how tempting it was to ask why, then, had he taken so long…? Loyalty, of course, the start and end of it, loyalty to Turgon, to Idril, and down through the line to these… lads Fin had mentioned… Yes, that was how it had been in Gondolin, too; they had put their marriage plans aside for Turgon's sake, with the result that their city had been overrun before their vows had been made.

'But, Thel… about… my… um…'

Ecthelion had almost forgotten how… how tenacious Glorfindel could be, if he thought he'd behaved badly; he had always pushed and pushed until absolutely certain that everything was all right; how such a glorious and bold person could be so insecure had always been a wonder to Thel… ah, well. At least time had not changed him too much…

'Your lovers.' He surprised himself, how easily he said the word. But that was another thing with Glorfindel – he suffered, too, if he thought he had wronged anyone. 'My dear, we had not made formal vows, and such as we had made between ourselves, I set you free from them. We have discussed this. There is no blame to you for finding solace, where you could. I doubt not that your friends, too, needed comfort. But, if you will have it, yes, it hurts, beloved. Not that you found love, but that I was not there to fulfil that need for you. Yet perhaps for those you loved, you were needed by them, too… But I did not free you as some kind of test, to say, although I said you may, does not mean you ought to have… no, I am not like that, you know this! Now, come. We both died, we will be made anew, and we can step forth into the world reborn and appreciate our love all the more for the separation we have endured.'

'But, Thel, love… is it really…?'

Ecthelion stood up, extended his hand to Glorfindel. Later, he would examine his pain, perhaps find a way to cease feeling quite so hurt, but for now… for now, Glorfindel needed to feel safe.

'We will have plenty of time to talk, to explore our hearts, but never doubt, Glorfindel, that you are my fëa-mate, my most beloved, and whatever our pasts may hold, the future is ours to claim. Walk with me, now. I wish to find somewhere in this garden that is not full of mouldering gloom.'