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Chapter 3.0
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Erestor could not sleep. This is not the first time that this had happened and it was not, by any means, the last—of that he was certain. The advisor turned onto his side in an attempt to get more comfortable, but it made little difference, for his head was too full of thoughts of blond hair and gleaming eyes . . .
. . . Glorfindel . . .
It hurt him to realize that he was not acceptable in the warrior's eyes; it hurt him more than he cared to admit.
But that was that. There was nothing he could do to change it.
Sighing, Erestor slid out of bed. Perhaps a walk outside would help to clear his head and, thus, allow him to finally get some rest. After pulling on a housecoat, he left his room and made his way through the corridors to the nearest exit.
Ah . . . The night air truly felt wonderful. Nighttime was his favourite time of the day, when the pale moon loomed overhead like a sentinel guarded its charges. He slowly wandered over to the pond at the edge of the garden. All was quiet that night, and the only sounds to be heard were the tiny crickets in the grass . . . and approaching footsteps.
Erestor automatically hardened his heart and turned around to face the unwelcome visitor.
'Glorfindel,' he said, willing his eyes not to deceive his joyous feelings. 'What are you doing here at this time of night?'
'I was just taking a midnight stroll,' the warrior said briskly. 'I apologize for having disturbed you. I shall go.' And he turned to leave.
"Wait," Erestor felt like saying, but he not have the nerve to voice such, so he just watched the other elf go, taking his heart with him.
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Chapter 3.1
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There he was, staring down at me. After all, what am I—a mere warrior—in comparison to him—an honoured advisor? . . . He was still staring at me with those deep, beautiful eyes. I could see the cold contempt of his judgment; he thought that I am such a lowly elf . . . Will I ever be good enough for you, Erestor?
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Chapter 3.2
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Glorfindel stood at the edge of the pond, thinking about the sad beauty that surrounded the esteemed advisor when they had encountered. Erestor was so beautiful . . . yet out of his league. The blond picked up a rock and skipped it across the dark water, causing the reflected moonlight to ripple with every jump.
'Aye, well, why would he ever be interested in a lowly elf such as I,' the warrior murmured to himself, tossing another stone. 'He can have practically any elf in Rivendell, save for Lord Elrond himself.' He paused. 'Actually, even Lord Elrond is probably obtainable for such an elf . . . Erestor must have been blessed by the gods themselves.'
"Such an honourable elf, one that anyone – be they man, woman, or elf – would be proud to call their lover . . . so why would he ever choose me?"
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Chapter 3.3
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"Why would he ever choose me?" Erestor wondered, as he made his way back to his bedchambers. "Why would he ever want to? I was wrong before; he is not too good to be true. But he is too good to be true for me . . ."
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Chapter 3.4
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'I am sorry, what did you say?' Glorfindel asked, for surely he had misheard the Elven lord.
'I am sending you and Erestor to Mirkwood,' Elrond said.
'And may I inquire as to why, my Lord,' Erestor said with a raised brow.
'The conference has been cancelled. It is important that Rivendell sends elves to Mirkwood immediately to help our kin.'
'If I may ask, Elrond, what for?' the blond elf questioned.
A darkened look appeared on the elf lord's face.
'Orcs,' he responded with a bitter look on his face, 'have attacked Mirkwood. There have also been rumors of men who want to join forces with the orcs because one of their women went missing near the Western borders and they believe Mirkwood is to blame.'
'I see,' Glorfindel said thoughtfully. 'We shall prepare to leave as soon as possible. I shall inform my battalion to prepare as well.'
Elrond nodded.
'Take whatever supplies you will need. The Mirkwood elves know of these . . . circumstances as well and are preparing to leave within a few hours. Follow them as soon as you are able to. Hopefully, it will not be too late.'
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Chapter 3.5
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'Let us stop to rest here for the night,' Glorfindel suggested, leading his mare to the riverside to drink.
Erestor and the other elves followed.
The Rivendell elves had headed for Mirkwood less than an hour after the Mirkwood elves, yet their paths had not crossed. Glorfindel hoped that the latter took breaks on their way home and did not simply trade their steeds for fresh ones and continue one. While the horses would be fresh and ready to run, the elves themselves would tire themselves out and not be prepared to fight, if the battle was still raging on by the time they arrived. It was important that they get there in time, but only if they could be helpful in the battle.
Glorfindel sighed as he slid off his horse. It had been a long and not altogether pleasant ride, knowing what awaited them at the end of their journey. Wanting to avoid the thought of the coming battle, Glorfindel busied himself by settling the elves and helping to set up the campsite. A short while later, he slipped away from the group to retrieve some firewood . . . and he was surprised to see that someone else had too.
'Erestor, what are you doing here?'
'Getting firewood,' the advisor replied coolly as he bent over to retrieve some dead branches. He turned to glance at the other elf and a dark lock of hair fell seductively over his eye. 'And you?'
'Uh . . .' Glorfindel paused, momentarily breathless. 'Gathering some firewood as well,' he said sheepily.
'Oh, I did not know that you had come to do the same. I shall leave you to it then.' Erestor turned to return to the camp with his meager bundle of wood.
'Wait,' Glorfindel said.
'Aye?'
'Stay with me . . . for a while . . . to talk,' the warrior said nervously. 'I feel as if we have not had the proper opportunity to speak and get to know each other.'
'Oh?' Erestor said, appearing taken back. 'Well, what would you like to know?'
Glorfindel leaned against a tree, trying to appear casual.
'Well . . . what do you enjoy doing in your spare time?'
'I read by the Bruinen River,' Erestor responded. 'Sometimes, the twins accompany me and I tell them stories, although – I must admit – I am not a very good storyteller. They are pleasant company, nay? And they appear to enjoy your company as well.'
'I certainly enjoy theirs. Time passes quickly when I with them. Elladan and Elrohir are mischievous elflings at the moment, but I anticipate that they will grow up to be strong and wise . . . with our guidance, of course,' Glorfindel said, half-teasingly.
'Aye, Elrond mentioned that you would be the one teaching them how to combat.'
'And I look forward to teaching them. Although, at the moment, one of my greatest fears is giving them arms.'
Erestor chuckled.
'Your fears do not appear to be ungrounded. I am to teach them academics and politics when they are old enough; it is a necessity since they are to be the future lords of Rivendell. However, knowledge is power, and for two elflings as mischievous as them . . .' He trailed off with a slight smile on his face, but then his features hardened once more. 'I apologize. It is improper to speak of the young lords this way.'
'Come now, Erestor,' Glorfindel said with a smile. 'We were merely teasing. Do not take it so seriously.'
'I have to be serious, Lord Glorfindel. It is my job.'
'But not your life.'
Erestor did not say anything for a moment, then, 'We are on a grave mission to aid our kin in battle. I do not think that now is the time to jest.'
And with that said, he left, leaving a rather confused Glorfindel in his wake.
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Chapter 3.6
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"Why does he do that?" Erestor wondered. "Why does Lord Glorfindel take pity on me and engage me in conversation? He saw that I was alone and thought that it was his obligation to speak to me. He likely noticed that I am an outsider here, amongst all these warrior elves. Although I have not forgotten how to weird a sword, I have not done so in many a year, so I am certainly not of the same brand as they are."
'Is that all the wood you brought?' another elf asked him, staring disappointedly at the few branches in the advisor's arms.
'. . . Aye,' Erestor replied after a brief pause. 'Lord Glorfindel went to retrieve firewood as well,' he explained lamely, which was uncharacteristic of him, especially since he was supposed to be an advisor. 'I expect that he shall return soon.'
The other elf nodded and walked away to help one of his comrades prepare their meal.
"And we probably pity me even more upon his return," Erestor thought sullenly, noticing that he was standing alone at the fringe of the group, not conversing and laughing with the others.
'I am going to bathe,' he said to no one in particular. Then he made his way towards the river nearby.
"As important as our mission to Mirkwood is, I cannot wait to return home," he thought as he slipped his tunic off. "I am not used to constantly being around warriors such as they. I usually travel with groups of dignitaries and the only warriors with us would be our guards – certainly not as many combat elves as there are now."
He heard laughter in the distance and faintly smelled some spices in the wind.
'Someone must be making broth,' he said to himself. Erestor's heart mourned to join in with the other elves, but – of course – he decided against it. After all, it was his first lifestyle that they were accustomed to, that of the Chief Advisor. So, instead, he slipped off his leggings and his gear, exposing his pale body to the wind. 'I suppose it is a good thing that I enjoy my own company,' he muttered, stepping into the cool water.
'Do you mind if I join you?' someone asked suddenly.
Erestor almost jumped, but composed himself just in time; he turned around to greet the unexpected visitor.
'Lord Glorfindel,' he said, trying to hide his surprise. 'I did not hear you approaching.'
"Deja-vu," he thought.
'Indeed,' the blond replied. 'I expect you were . . . distracted by your own musings? I understand by now that you have the tendency to do that.'
'Aye,' Erestor said, 'it is—'
'Your job,' Glorfindel finished for him, sighing. 'Aye, I know.' He quickly – yet gracefully – stripped himself of his clothes and waded into the water beside Erestor.
'What are you doing?' the advisor asked before he could stop himself, feeling rather nervous since Glorfindel was standing naked next to him. While he had seen many elves nude before (after all, Erestor had come of age many centuries ago), the sight of Glorfindel's smooth, slightly muscled body was certainly a pleasant sight to behold.
'Bathing,' the other responded. 'Since you did not reply to my initial question, I assumed it was a, "No, I do not mind. Please join me".' He winked.
"He is teasing again," Erestor realized, feeling a surge of anger.
'Why do you not join in the festivities?' Glorfindel asked.
'They are not to my liking,' the brunet replied, a bit more harshly than he had intended.
'Indeed? You will not even give your comrades a chance?'
'They are your comrades, Glorfindel, not mine,' Erestor reminded him. 'And, while they are . . . pleasant company, I merely do not wish to join them.' He turned to the warrior with a raised brow. 'Why are you not with them?'
'I wished to bathe,' Glorfindel said, as if that was obvious. 'I expect that once the battle is upon us, there will be few opportunities for such luxuries.'
'Indeed,' the advisor said this time.
The other elf moved closer to Erestor.
'I was not only speaking of bathing, Erestor.'
The brunet swiftly moved away.
'Lord Glorfindel, I do not think this is appropriate,' Erestor said hotly. 'We are colleagues out on a mission to help our kin – nothing more.'
Something appeared to crack in Glorfindel's features, but the advisor was certain that he had imagined it because the warrior appeared to be his normal self mere moments later.
'You misinterpret my meaning,' he said stiffly. 'I merely wish to be your friend.'
'I have few friends,' Erestor said slowly. 'And I . . . I believe that it is best kept that way.' He moved further away from Glorfindel. 'I am sorry,' he said, turning away.
There was a rather awkward silence, then—
'Why will you not give me a chance, Erestor?' Glorfindel asked softly. 'Why do you not give any of the other elves a chance either? We have a lot to offer you in terms in friendship and I am certain that you do as well.'
'Perhaps, but I do not want your pity,' the advisor replied, composed as ever.
'Pity?' Glorfindel inquired in disgust. 'Is that what you think we are doing – pitying you?' He flung his arms up emotionally, splashing water into the air. 'Well, we are not! I am not! What must I do to gain your trust?'
'Why is it so important to you?' Erestor asked. 'You have gained the trust and respect of many beings, elves and humans alike. Is that not enough? Please leave me be. I would like to keep our relationship strictly professional.'
Glorfindel stared at him, appearing shocked.
'As you wish,' he said coldly. 'I shall take me leave then, Master Erestor.'
Erestor watched with a heavy heart as the other elf stepped out of the river, collected his clothes, and walked away.
"I want to get to know him better," Erestor thought, "but what is the point if he is so much better than I? Anyone would choose him over me."
A wave of emotion swept over him when he heard, in the distance, the weak attempts of an elf trying to whistle . . .
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Chapter 3.7
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Good and evil…
Sun and moon…
Water and fire…
Everything was composed of a duality, opposites, each concept of dark countered by a stream of light.
Erestor was the personification of "duality, for he led two different lives—one around his closest friends, and the other around everyone else. To many, he was naught more than the Chief Advisor of Lord Elrond, an experienced, rather intimidating intellectual of high status in the hierarchy of Rivendell. But to some, he was a comfortable presence—a strong, supportive friend and ally.
It was the second lifestyle that he chose to show Glorfindel. The impersonal style he had that would discourage most elves and perhaps even drive them away.
"Did I do the right thing?" he wondered.
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Chapter 3.8
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"He does not want me," Glorfindel thought. "He does not want to get to know me. He does not want anything to do with me!"
He was unable to explain why Erestor seemed so important to him, but he definitely had his theories. He had not felt this way about anyone, not since . . . Ecthelion.
"But that does not make any sense! I do not even know him and he has treated me with naught but 'professionalism' since I first met him!"
"But you have seen the other side of him," a voice said inside of him. "You saw how he acted when he was with Elrond's family. He softened and there was an affectionate look in his eye whenever he addressed them. He loves them as much as he would his own family."
"But other than them, he does not want to get close to anyone else," Glorfindel realized.
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Chapter 3.9
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Unknowingly, two elves alone sat in the dark of the night, wondering the same thing . . .
Will I ever be good enough for you?
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