Part 2 of chapter Narmofinion. (still can't post whole chapters!)
'Swear to this, dear Nármo, who has ever kept my heart. Even as you kept watch over he I love more than life itself, swear you will watch over these children that are of my heart if not my blood.'
Ah. How he had wept, pleaded. Spare me this, Lord. My place is with you.
But Maedhros would not spare him this; instead he had turned his head and for a moment, he could see how this man had so utterly held Fingon's heart. Maedhros had lifted his eyes that were like silver stars and held Erestor in his compelling gaze. 'No,' he had said but so gently it made Erestor weep even now, these long, long years afterwards. 'You will guard my children. You have my heart, Nármo. As always you do.'
He had pressed his hand against Erestor's chest, and his skin felt warm where Maedhros touched his heart. And then he had smiled, so sweetly, so relieved, that Erestor could not deny him.
He pushed himself away from the window, shaking himself out of memory and nostalgia. There was a pressure in his head that had been there for days, he realised, and that he thought had eased...but it was back already. He smoothed his hands over his hair and rubbed his temples; there was a high-pitched whine in his ears against the background beat of blood.
He frowned slightly and then he turned and strode down to the door of his study, threw open the door to his bedchamber so it slammed against the wall and then banged shut behind him. With a steady hand he poured himself a glass of cold, clear water from a jug on his dresser, and drank it all, felt it ice-cold in his chest, his belly, let it ground him.
Glancing up, he caught the image of his hard, lean body in a mirror that hung over the dresser, reflecting the light. His own face emerged from the dark of his room; he thought it hard, severe, and strange perhaps, with his amber eyes and distinct brows. Cheekbones sharp, like knives, since Elladan had been struck down. He frowned disapprovingly at himself and stared. His face seemed to float in the glass, against darkness, and the flickering candle flames seemed disembodied.
It is not too late...They are still there, in the Void…You simply need to reach out and take….
His eyes caught on his own reflected gaze. Understanding dawned in his reflected amber eyes and he gave himself a ferocious smile, lifted one fine black brow in sardonic appreciation. He raised his glass to himself. Let the insidious voice of the Ring whisper on. It was not saying anything he did not already think.
And you, Ash Nazg, he wondered, Who will come for you, I wonder? Who will come for your master?
The silence that struck was immense, potent.
Who is it that is imprisoned in the Dark that you would seek?
His eyes narrowed and mind sharpened. Yes, I know what you seek, Ash Nazg. I know why you wish that I return to Phellanthir, and wear you on my finger I suppose.
He laughed inwardly so It would know that It had no power over him. Begone, trinket, he said dismissively. You are nothing against the greatness wrought by my House. You are but one facet. Your constant whine is a mere irritant.
There was a furious buzzing like an angry bee and he laughed.
Be gone! You have no power over me.
The buzzing reached a furious crescendo so it felt like the bee was trapped inside his skull and bounced off one side and then the other…and suddenly, it stopped.
Silence.
He waited.
Nothing. It had truly left him. He frowned and slowly turned as if he could find it by simply looking. But it had gone.
He wondered where it went now, whom it plagued instead, for it sought power. It had been defeated by Vilya, and it could not defeat Gandalf, not here with both Nary and Vilya so close. It had failed with him….
Suddenly he thought he knew. Draining his glass, tight-lipped and angry, slamming the glass down as he left, he crashed out of his room, and strode purposefully down the passageway and out onto the lawns. He strode across the grass, leaving dark prints where his boots brushed the wet grass, and leapt up the wide stone steps to the terrace of the Valley's commanders.
The thin crack of light showed still beneath Glorfindel's door as he expected and he banged once on the door. He did not wait but threw open the door to find Glorfindel, as he had surmised, sitting at the table in his room, strewn with papers and reports and rosters and looking irritated and unusually grumpy. Erestor almost stopped for he had rarely seen Glorfindel anything but patient and kindly. But he must be tired too, for they had only relieved Elrond and Vilya from Ash Nazg's assault hours ago and Glorfindel was to leave in the morning. He must have the weight of things to be done before then.
Glorfindel threw Erestor a startled and irritated glance. 'Erestor! What do you mean barging in here like this?' he snapped and Erestor was surprised. Erestor himself was known for being short with folk but Glorfindel was elevated to almost god-like status by the inhabitants of Imladris. He frowned but Glorfindel continued with barely a pause. 'And what in Manwë's name were you thinking earlier, talking to Galdor about Sirion as if it were a philosophical question? What would have happened had they done the logical thing and returned it to those it rightfully belonged to! What did you hope to achieve by that? We want Galdor on my side when I leave please, not utterly alienated by your snide goading.'
Erestor frowned at the sudden turn. Had he said that? He could not recall but Glorfindel looked almost incandescent...
'I did not say exactly that,' he objected. But a little blush of heat on his back crept between his shoulder blades.
'Very well, it is the sense of what I said,' he admitted, throwing himself into the chair opposite Glorfindel. He may have been goading Galdor even further at the time. But he would never admit he was wrong. Instead he calculated the best way to really distract Glorfindel. So he looked contemplatively at his fingernails and focused on the reason for his visit. 'I have come to warn you to put a guard on the Hobbits -now. Even just for this night and day before they leave. For their safety.'
'Erestor, I have already done that. There has been a guard on them since they arrived. I am pleased it is so discrete that you did not notice and your spies are so useless that they did not know. Now, if you have come to irritate me you are doing well,' Glorfindel clenched his pen so hard it almost broke. 'Now thank you for telling me and now clear off and plan your next banquet or whatever it is you do.' Erestor saw that he had gritted his teeth and his lovely blue eyes normally so full of joy and so fearless, were seething with fury.
Erestor cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes: so, he was right. He had never seen Glorfindel angry. He decided he quite liked it. There was a slight flush on his high cheekbones and his full lips were pressed together but the fire in his eyes was barely suppressed, furious, it was true, but it hinted at the passionate soul beneath that sophisticated and beautiful veneer. Yes- his hunch was absolutely accurate. Ash Nazg was here.
'And I don't like the way you just barge in as if you never have to knock like everyone else,' Glorfindel added. He shuffled some papers pointedly and banged them on the table.
'Why are you bothered?' asked Erestor provocatively, almost unable to help himself. He narrowed his sharp amber eyes and cast his gaze quickly about the room. 'It's not like you would ever have anyone in here,' he said deliberately scornful, 'and you have nothing I haven't seen before. Plenty of times,' he added with a staged leer.
Normally Glorfindel would have laughed at that but this time he threw a quick, nervous look at Erestor and then quickly looked away. Erestor paused. 'You don't have a Dwarf in here do you?' He peered under the bed melodramatically. 'Or young Thranduillion? Oh, that cannot be for I have just seen Tindómion leave him, looking most pleased with himself.
Glorfindel drew his breath in sharply and glared at Erestor. His blue eyes were very blue, ice-blue, thought Erestor more than a little speculatively. He let a smile touch his lips and imperceptibly tilted his head so his long hair sifted over his shoulders.
'It is Ash Nazg that makes you fiery,' he said, knowing it would annoy Glorfindel even further. Knowing...he thought to himself in surprise, why on Arda was he set on provoking Glorfindel when he had come simply to forewarn him? Surely Ash Nazg had no power over Erestor himself? Had he not dismissed it only minutes ago?
Glorfindel lifted his head to stare. 'You dare say that?' he demanded rising to his feet.
Erestor rolled his eyes. 'Very well, do you prefer I say Isildur's Bane?' he said, deliberately misunderstanding Glorfindel's outrage at the suggestion that he was affected by the Ring. 'Although it is less his bane, than ours,' Erestor continued blithely ignoring Glorfindel's rising irritation. 'May Isildur rot in some nasty corner of the Hells with a Bal...' He stopped. 'With a bag of stoats in his breeches,' he said slowly seeing the ice in Glorfindel's eyes, and even he had to consider before truly awakening that cold wrath. 'It should be Celebrimbor's Bane, or Gil-Galad's. Why do we name it after that greedy stupid Man...' He shook himself, wondering why he felt the hot fire kindle in his breast.
Glorfindel took a step towards him, and Erestor too rose to his feet, and did not step down. He never did. Fëanorian, he told himself, like a battle cry, his blood firing and thundering through his veins.
'Not only do I prefer,' said Glorfindel cold to Erestor's fire, coming closer and Erestor lifted his sardonic black eyebrow and let his thin lips curl into a smile that was almost predatory. 'I insist.'
Erestor had forgotten even what they argued about but he felt his own fists clench, and his hard coils of sinew and iron muscle bunched. He felt his amber eyes narrow and lifted his chin in expectation. He was no servant or soft councillor; indeed, he was a match for Glorfindel should it come to blows, verbal or physical...He almost flinched at the alien thought; this was not at all what he intended. He had intended to show Glorfindel how Ash Nazg had seized the Valley's commander, had caught Glorfindel's vulnerablity…
Glorfindel stood close, almost trembling and his blue eyes glittered.
He stopped suddenly, breathing hard. He seemed to tremble and then abruptly pushed Erestor hard, so he stumbled and fell back into the chair.
'You are so masterful when you are angry,' Erestor grinned in ferocious delight. 'Are we going to fuck?' With outrageous cheek that only he could do, Erestor puckered his lips and made a loud smacking kissing noise that he knew would infuriate Glorfindel further.
Glorfindel stood over him, fists clenched, breathing hard. 'By Elbereth, you are the most irritating man I have ever met in all my life.'
'Just this life?' Erestor grinned irrepressibly, although his heart was beating wildly, and he had been poised to fight back. 'Or both? You knew Turgid and by Eru, he was irritating. So I am flattered.'
At the mention and insult to Turgon, Glorfindel looked like he had been struck. He took a step back and his face, always so full of fearless joy, was suddenly vulnerable and there was such pain in his eyes that Erestor wondered if he had not gone too far but he could not seem to stop now.
'How dare you speak of him in such a way, Erestor. Whatever your proclivities, they are not mine.'
Glorfindel sank into his chair and looked away out of the window where the moon had risen over the mountains and turned the snow silver.
A sudden high pitched whine sounded in Erestor's ears, and he found himself saying, 'You deny yourself great pleasure, my friend. Perhaps you could imagine that I am Turgid...'
'Erestor! Do not say it!' Glorfindel's blue eyes blazed and even Erestor paused...and then ploughed on fearlessly. There was a crackle of Power. Blue-burning-ice and fire ringing a circle of gold.
'Imagine I am ...'
'If you dare...'
'Did he not have my hair?' Erestor pulled his own long, thick hair over one shoulder, circling the heavy horsetail and pulling it through the circle of his forefinger and thumb. 'His eyes were blue as I recall, but I could keep my eyes shut.'
Glorfindel was staring at him, lips parted and eyes wide, furious. His fists were clenched on the arms of his chair and there was an angry flush to his cheeks.
Erestor smiled. 'You have never looked lovelier. I have never wanted to fuck you until now. Come.' He let his long hair slide through his fingers, spread it so it fell in a gleaming sheet. 'Think how we will look together.'
'And if I did,' Glorfindel was suddenly defiant. 'What would Elrond think if we turned up for my departure holding hands?' He narrowed his blue eyes then and shot a final barb. 'What would Elladan think should he awaken?'
It was like cold water and Erestor paused for a second but nothing touched his smooth face. His head cleared suddenly and he breathed in through his nose sharply. How had he let it go this far? What had happened to bring them almost to blows, real and not the feigned or teasing that characterised their interactions? If Elladan should awake, he thought, I would fall on my knees and thank every Power in the Universe. I would praise Manwë himself if I thought he had a hand in it.
This is Ash Nazg, he thought, and felt it sneer against his mind, for dismissing It so easily.
Slowly, and with a gentler smile than before he replied, 'They would think you a sly dog and envy you.' But it was the light teasing of their normal conversation and not the heavy barbed warfare of earlier. He rubbed a long hand over his face and smiled weakly.
Glorfindel stared at him, almost shaking...and the blue-ice flashed and suddenly dimmed, like a flame that does not catch.
'This is Ash...' he paused, not wishing to rile Glorfindel further, not now when Erestor was seeing clearly. 'It is the Ring. It is making us behave like this. Both of us.'
'You come too close.' Glorfindel's face was still closed, burying the hurt so deep. It made him vulnerable, Erestor thought and still he was not completely clear of Ash Nazg's malevolence.
'What were you thinking about when I came in?' He watched Glorfindel's lovely face closely. The full lips stayed closed but he blinked slowly, a sure sign, Erestor knew that he had caught the scent. He always did.
'You said I was irritating,' he reminded Glorfindel. 'I said I was flattered as you had known Turgon.' He did not repeat his insult, pausing, letting Glorfindel follow his thought. 'Why did you immediately think of my proclivities? I did not mention anything that could have been so construed.'
'You are doing it again,' Glorfindel said angrily and Erestor sighed. Sometimes, for a twice-born lord of the Noldor, Glorfindel could be remarkably obtuse.
'What were you thinking about when I came in?' he prompted gently.
'I was planning the route for tomorrow...' Glorfindel began defensively. Then he stopped, frowning. 'No...I had become distracted,' he said wonderingly. 'I was thinking of Turgon...remembering the bells of Gondolin. I was remembering Idril... She was lovely,' he said softly and Erestor watched sadly. He had always known.
'That Tuor,' said Erestor, sending Glorfindel a sly sideways glance. 'He was a cunning bastard.' And suddenly he saw a flicker of deep loss on Glorfindel's face and something else...something he recognised...A darker hope fed by Ash Nazg.
His own hope he had dispelled and now he must do the same for Glorfindel. Erestor sighed and it surprised him for it came from somewhere deep, deep inside, buried as deep as Glorfindel's thin spear of misery.
'You are troubled,' he observed very gently. 'As was I. And I thought I was in control of my thoughts. I was not.' And then he asked again. 'What were you thinking when I came in? My question is not idle, I promise you, my friend,' he said quickly, holding his hand out towards Glorfindel appeasingly. 'Think what we have seen - first at the council, then at Phellanthir. I was too much in memory and found myself thinking...'He paused, remembering how he had believed himself in control of those thoughts…but in truth now he wondered. 'I was thinking of things I thought impossible but I find now that they are. Maedhros is there.' He rose to his feet and turned towards the window that looked down the Valley and beyond, the South where the ruined tower loomed in darkness. 'He is here.…He can be called back.' He paused and then, admitting it finally, he said, 'but for a while I was thinking how he might be released. That I might find a way…That perhaps he is not alone in that cold place.'
Glorfindel stared at him for a moment and then shook his head, looked down. 'Too much in memory,' he agreed.
Erestor waited, and allowed himself a moment of regret that the long, golden hair would stay pristine and the ice-blue eyes would not kindle in passion as they had a moment ago in fury. It was a waste, he thought and smiled slightly. Not for Erestor, but someone should enjoy such glorious magnificence, he thought a little sadly, a little bitterly. It would have to be a woman of courage and beauty for Glorfindel, he thought. Like Idril.