Chapter Ten

He began to have aches in muscles he had not stretched on the ship. Hesten was rapidly running out of ways to best him in training as his strength and coordination returned to him. They spoke of everything as they trained, of the other inhabitants and the history of Imladris and occasionally, Glorfindel would do the talking and let some story slip that would give his friend another glimpse into the life of Beleriand. It was never much though, he never spoke of meaningful things. Merely how they had built Gondolin, or how the march across the Helcaraxë had been organised. He left the tales of heroes to the singers, and anything more personal he did not share.

"You are late," he told Hesten when finally the other elf arrived on the training field the day after their second patrol. He had been warming up for over an hour and had almost gone to wander around the gardens when his partner did not appear.

"Maethor kept me. I apologise." They would normally have finished by the time they actually started. Glorfindel went straight in for the kill instead of their usual circling, repeatedly pushing Hesten back a little harshly. "If this is you when you are annoyed, remind me never to anger you." He grinned and relented.

Glorfindel glanced around as they took a moment to catch their breath, watching the other elves come and go. He was not normally on the training field at that hour, the routines of these others were new to him. One group caught his attention, four dark haired elves in a circle. It took him a moment to work out that they were in fact working in pairs as they span around each other, blades meeting in rhythm.

"We could use them in the guard, but their minds rival their strength so they are shut away in libraries." Hesten had turned to him once more but Glorfindel still watched the four scribes intently. The one with his back to him finally turned around and his stomach flipped. Some suited the tight fitting training tunic well, some even better. As he span and lunged at his opponents Glorfindel could not tear his eyes away. "Is that wonder that Erestor can fight?" Hesten asked him. "That is yet another reason for Maethor to dislike him. Glor?" He snapped back to the real world and gave Hesten a hasty smile.

"Yes?" Hesten smirked so broadly Ecthelion would have been proud.

"What are you staring at?"

"I was not staring," he answered too quickly. Hesten only laughed as he swung his blade around to loosen his shoulders.

"Who has your attention?" His aurora of awe had worn off and the glare he shot Hesten did nothing. "Glorfindel."

"No one."

"You are a terrible liar," said Hesten. "And your posture goes south when you are annoyed." Glorfindel straightened his back as he rapped Hesten's blade squarely. "I think we may have done enough."

As they sheathed their swords, he had the opportunity to look over at the group across the field. They were all good, none of them experts yet all finely trained. He tried to watched them objectively and pick out faults in their movements but all he could do was stare at the perfect grace of the slightest of the four. It could have been Gondolin, with Ecthelion by his side as he caught his first glimpses of the young trainee. Only now Erestor knew exactly what he was doing and he did not hesitate as he swung his blade, almost dancing around the others.

"No one, indeed," a sly voice said beside him.

"Quiet, Thel." There was a moment's silence before Glorfindel realised he had called Hesten by Ecthelion's name. The slip wrenched at his heart as he was shapely reminded that Ecthelion was not there to tease or tell him to grow up. Just Hesten, who for all his smiles was not who Glorfindel wanted most to speak to. "Forgive me, Hesten." He walked away, heading into the carefully constructed woodlands on the edge of the gardens. In the solitude he could let his heart and mind catch each other up. The hole that was shaped like Ecthelion threatened to swallow him whole, a gaping maw that stood where his friend should have. He knew what the feeling was that had reawakened grief with it. Seeing Erestor had summoned up longing once more and those memories were firmly attached to Gondolin.

Glorfindel looked out into the woods, holding back the warm pin pricks of tears. Out there, no matter which direction he went, he would never find his home again. Gondolin was gone. He let the tears come. It was a different pain to that of the nightmares, less sharp and physical. He had cried as they ran and grieved before they reached the mountain pass, and just as the sensations of life came back to him so did that in all its entirety. Of everyone he had ever known in his city, only Isowen and Erestor remained. Even as they ran there had been others: Egalmoth, Galdor, Tuor and Idril. Now they were gone as well.

He did not count how long he had been out in the woods. It could barely have been more than an hour from when he has left to the moment he walked back through the side doors to the armoury.

"Is all well?" Hesten asked him as they sat together to mend the rows of training armour that always managed to get torn or scratched.

"Forgive me, I should not have left so suddenly."

"It is of no matter." Hesten sighed, looking down. "It is easy to forget you are perhaps not so well adjusted underneath." Isowen told him things would take time, she had not specified what he would do during that time whilst nightmares and grief knocked at him. There was the pause that should have been filled by an offer of an ear to listen to his sorrows but Hesten remained silent as they worked.