Elrond was witness to many things. It was the advantage of being quiet and staying out of the way. There was, of course, also the fact that everything was happening in his house practically under his nose.

Among those who were there, there were two that he had lived with longest of all. These were not his children, nor was one of them his wife. These were his best friends – though, the term in Rivendell had been ‘advisors’.

Actually, sometimes, they did act like children – not his children, thankfully, but there were times that he felt they were exhibiting the qualities of someone’s child. He would never say such a thing – maybe he would hint to it, or pull one of them aside and beat around a bush.

Now that he really thought about it... the younger one was more mature than the older one. Sure, the younger was sillier at times, but if they had an argument betwixt themselves, the younger was prone to giving in to the elder to keep the peace. On the other hand, the elder did not behave so admirably when the younger defended his opinion. There was at times shouting, and huffing, and glaring, and occasionally stomping, which may or may not be followed by door slamming.

It is hard to stop and step back and look at a situation when it has been going on for so long. Abuse is a difficult word to say, with harsh connotations. Sometimes unintentional, or even unseen, and often, a cover of something more serious. Elrond’s training as a healer of the body had included some instruction in the arts of healing the mind and soul. There were others more skilled than he with these, but sometimes his confidence in his abilities coupled with a sudden need turned him into the advisor, and the advisors into the advisees.

---

“All I was saying was... it just seemed a little odd,” Glorfindel settled upon. “I do not want to begrudge you anything, but I was a little uncomfortable with what you were saying to that young lady.”

“She was... three hundred at least. Hardly young.”

Glorfindel’s expression was one of helpless defeat already. It puzzled Elrond, from where he was sitting in the corner of the parlor, far enough not to be directly within their site but close enough to see and hear everything, that one so strong, so courageous, could be cowed by...

Well, Erestor was intimidating. That was half the reason for putting him into the position he was in while they were all living in Rivendell. No one won more arguments in favor of the realm than Erestor had. Erestor, however, continued this need to win debate into his personal life, and to what Elrond believed to be an unhealthy degree.

It appeared that the argument had begun somewhere private – and from what he could ascertain, it more than likely had not started as an argument. Glorfindel was not one to create conflict. At some point, Erestor had brought the conversation somewhere public – all he needed to do was walk away, and Glorfindel would follow. Now that there was an audience, Erestor turned on the showmanship – the gestures, the polysyllabic words, and the slow, practiced pace. While Glorfindel sat in defeat on the sofa, Erestor towered over him and delivered his explanations like a parent scolding a child.

Elrond caught a brief glimpse from Glorfindel. Maybe Glorfindel was hoping that he would voice his opinion and set Erestor straight; perhaps it was more for Glorfindel to take a moment and consider what Elrond would have done in his place. As Glorfindel turned back, Elrond noticed the glossy sheen to his eyes. That was when Elrond discretely set his book in his lap, his thumb held in his place, and actually paid attention to what was going on.

“You acted as if I was not there.”

“I was aware of you,” rebuked Erestor. “You were right there next to me.” He huffed loudly, and shook his head. “This is just the way I am, Fin. You know that.”

“I know you like to flirt with pretty girls, but do you have to do it in front of me?”

Erestor crossed his arms over his chest. “Fin, I do it without thinking. I was just making politce conversation. Did I go up to her and grope her or wink at her or something inappropriate like that?”

“Well, no—“

“No. None of that going on,” agreed Erestor quickly. “We were just talking. You were right there, you heard everything.”

“It is not always the things you say or what you do,” interrupted Glorfindel, “It is more the way you say and do those things and how I interpret that.”

“Your interpretation is obviously flawed.” Now, Erestor was angered, and he stood directly in front of Glorfindel glaring down at him. “My intent was not to upset you – that you believed that to be the case is your problem. I was merely holding an innocuous conversation, and if this is going to bother you, perhaps you should just stay home from now on.”

Always in need of the last word, Erestor stormed out of the room. Glorfindel looked lost, unsure of whether to stay or go after him.

“Glorfindel.”

The blond startled, and looked back to where Elrond was sitting. “I am sorry about that,” apologized Glorfindel. “I did not mean to disrupt your reading.” He slowly stood up with the intent of leaving.

“Sit down, Glorfindel.” Elrond set the book on his vacated seat and went to join Glorfindel on the sofa. “I need to ask you a question, and I need you to answer honestly.” It was harder for Elrond to say than for Glorfindel to hear. “Is he abusing you?”

Glorfindel refused to make eye contact. “He would never do anything to knowingly hurt me.”

Even someone not trained as a healer would have figured out the answer, realized Elrond. He took hold of one of Glorfindel’s hands. “But he does,” spoke Elrond softly.

“I need to go talk to him.” Glorfindel attempted to stand up, but Elrond gently pulled him back down again.

“What are you going to say to him? Is he going to suddenly have a change of heart? Is round one him berating you, and round two you getting the upperhand?”

Glorfindel slid his hand out of Elrond’s grasp and ran his hands through his hair, his head bowed. “No... I... have to go and calm him down now.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“It will probably just make it worse.”

“But do you want me to?”

Glorfindel was silent. A stunted sob escaped as he nodded his head. “I do not want to lose him,” explained Glorfindel helplessly. “I just... I feel like I am losing myself.”

“Then, you do want me to talk to him?”

“Yes, please,” he managed in a very small voice.

Elrond took Glorfindel to Celebrian, not wanting Glorfindel to walk in on what was sure to be an unpleasant discussion. He took a few minutes to explain the situation, and made the suggestion that the pair should either go for a walk, or a ride, or some such thing to keep Glorfindel out of the house.

As Elrond headed back down through the house, he knocked on each door to check for inhabitants. Everyone was sent off on tasks that would take some time to complete. No one questioned him, but Elladan did grin and ask, “Are you going to yell at Erestor?”

“I... we are going to have a talk.”

“Oh... sure, of course,” nodded Elladan, knowing well from his childhood that ‘having a talk’ was really code for ‘getting a lecture’. “Well, he deserves to ‘have a talk’... damn, I wish I could see his face.”

“Elladan, if you do not heed my advice immediately—“

“—then I will be subject to having a talk with you,” finished his eldest. “Well, good luck.”

By the time Elrond reached the door to the room that Erestor and Glorfindel shared, he was confident that he had to put his foot down in regards to Erestor’s behavior. Understandably, Erestor had had many hardships in his life – it was not, however, an excuse for his treatment of Glorfindel, unintentional or otherwise. Elrond hesitated just as he was about to knock on the door. If he knocked, he put the ball immediately into Erestor’s court by forewarning him.

It was necessary for Elrond to take charge of the conversation, and for there to be one and only one such intervention. Not only for Glorfindel’s sake, but for the wellbeing of everyone living in the house. There were no locks on the doors, so Elrond invited himself right in and let the door swing open and slam against the wall. Erestor had been brooding in the rocker in the corner, and he began to stand up.

“Sit down,” demanded Elrond, pointing for emphasis. Erestor blinked in surprise, but lowered himself down into the chair. “Your behavior is reprehensible.”

“I—“

“You are not at liberty to speak.” Elrond took up the same stance Erestor had earlier. Although Elrond was closer to Glorfindel’s height, he still managed the same effect with Erestor seated. “To say I am disappointed is an understatement of colossal proportion. You have no idea how much Glorfindel adores you, and how much it hurts him when you do some foolish thing like you did today.”

“You have no idea what went on. You were not there,” argued Erestor.

“I was right in the parlor with the two of you!” Elrond put his hands on the arms of the rocker so that Erestor was unable to get up, and stared him square in the face. “I am not talking about whatever led to your dispute, I am talking about how you deal with them. You would do well to take a lesson from myself and Celebrian.”

“You and Celebrian have been together so long, you do not have arguments anymore.”

“When can you recall my wife and I ever having an argument.”

Erestor contemplated the question much longer than he expected to need to. “I cannot recall the last time, but—“

“That is because we have the decency not to argue in public. We have the intelligence to talk things out like two adults.”

Although Erestor could not move away from Elrond, he was able to turn his head away and look at the wall. “I would appreciate it if you would not meddle in my personal affairs.”

“You have made your personal affairs quite public,” Elrond reminded him. “So public in fact, I am very close to evicting you from my house.”

“There is no reason to punish Glorfindel for my temper.”

“Did I say Glorfindel? I said you,” repeated Elrond pointedly. Now, Erestor did look back at him. “Your temper is indeed an issue in all of this. I think we need to get to the root of the problem. Unless I am mistaken, each and every one of these disputes really comes down to how you treat him. He absolutely adores you and worships the very ground you walk upon. In return, you treat him as if he is beneath you.”

“I do not. I completely respect him.”

“Have you ever listened to yourself talk? Have you ever really, really listened to what you say?” Elrond shifted his feet, his back getting sore from hovering the way he was. He wondered how Erestor managed these ridiculous stances. “You tell him his preference is perfectly normal, that there is nothing for him to be ashamed of. Then, you turn around and state when someone questions your relationship that you are practically straight as an arrow. I call a horse a horse; I call a dog a dog – and although you might call yourself what you like, that does not change the fact that you sleep with and are married to another ellon.”

Elrond expected a quick comeback. What he never expected was for Erestor to bow his head and nod remorsefully. “You are right.”

“Damn right I am!” Elrond stood up again, not wanting to lose the momentum. “I hope you wise up and figure out just how good you have it. He loves you. I do not know if I can say the reverse. I am well aware of the fact that there are a number of pretty young things who strut around Valimar basking in compliments that are paid to them. There is no reason for you to look at them, speak to them, touch them, flirt with them – whatever it is you are doing, if you want to keep the one who desires you the way you seem to crave these young ladies, stop it. I would not blame him if he left you – not for a moment.”

“I know, I know,” mumbled Erestor in agreement. “He deserves better.”

“He does. And for all he has been through for you, he deserves at the very least a very sincere and heartfelt apology – not the sort of apology filled with loopholes or clauses. If I hear ‘I am sorry, but...’, so help me, Erestor, you do not want to know what I am capable of doing.”

Erestor nodded meekly again.

“While we are on the topic,” added Elrond, his voice still raised, “I am going to say this once and not expect to need to repeat myself. Galadriel is not yours. I know that the two of you have resolved things, but I never want to worry that it might come up again later. This is done. Over. Finished. Understand?”

Again, Erestor nodded.

“How would you feel if he brought up Gildor repeatedly? What if, ever now and then, he brought up their relationship and pined for him and cried to you about it? Just how would you feel about that?” When Erestor did not answer Elrond, he took hold of his chin forcefully and made him look up. “How would you feel?”

“Bad,” whispered Erestor. His hands were folded in his lap, shaking slightly.

Elrond’s goal was not to cause Erestor to break down, but if that was what it took, that was what he would do. “How do you think he feels every time you bring up someone? Galadriel or Aredhel or any of the dozen others?”

“Bad,” he repeated.

“He hurts! He aches – he is confused! He feels he must support you, and make you feel better, but it makes him feel terrible! You need to learn to let go of the past, because that is the only way you are going to be able to move forward. And if there are any more surprises – any other little secrets you are keeping from him – you would be wise to reveal them now.”

Erestor swallowed hard, nodded once more, and bowed his head when Elrond let go of his chin. “May I be excused?”

There was more Elrond wished to say – actually, he wanted to grab Erestor by the shoulders and shake some sense into him – but for now, it seemed to be enough. There was only so much for him to do; Erestor and Glorfindel needed to do the rest. “Go on. Go talk to him.” Elrond moved aside and Erestor stood up slowly. “He is in the stable with Celebrian.”

When Erestor left, Elrond dropped down onto the chair. Now that his part was over, he felt himself tremble. It was not often one yelled at a Vala and won. He hoped there was still some brandy left in his office.

Erestor stood outside of the stable, listening to the conversation within. He was waiting for a break, or for the opportune time to enter, but Celebrian was dominating the discussion and Erestor had a hard time with the idea of simply strolling in and sitting down to chat.

He circled around the stable twice, avoiding passing the open doorway. Elrond’s words were haunting him, and he feared that making everything known as suggested would be the final straw that would push Glorfindel away. Deep in his thoughts, he missed avoiding a twig he had not previously noticed. As it cracked underfoot, he knew he would be found out, and he moved to the doorway.

It was Celebrian who greeted him. “I thought I heard something – look who is here!” Celebrian looped her arm around Erestor’s and brought him into the stable, whether he wished to be there or not. “You know, I think it is just about time for me to return to the house and start work on dinner,” she said, leaving the pair alone in the stable.

Erestor watched Glorfindel as he sadly brushed the coat of one of the horses. He lifted his hand in greeting, but when Glorfindel did not return the gesture, Erestor lowered it again. There was no smile on the blond’s face, none of the usual joy he was so used to seeing. Erestor flipped an empty pail over and set it down against the wall. He sat down quietly and waited for further acknowledgement. Glorfindel simply continued to comb through the mare’s coat, and when he did not give Erestor any recognition, Erestor said, “I bet you are mad at me.”

“You think?” Glorfindel continued his task, plaited the horse’s tail, and brushed her mane without saying anything more. Erestor spent the time sitting on the bucket – which was quite uncomfortable – and thinking of the proper way to apologize. When Glorfindel set the brush down, he turned and found Erestor still sitting on the bucket. “Are you still here?”

“I think so.” Erestor fumbled with the edge of his sleeve. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to leave?”

Erestor shook his head. “No.” His voice was the same small one that he had used earlier after Elrond had taken to shouting at him.

“So why are you here?”

“I... I came to apologize.”

Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest and waited. “Well?”

“I am sorry that I hurt your feelings. I am sorry I hurt you.”

“Is that all?”

Erestor wrung his hands. “I promise never to do it again. And... and I beg you to forgive me.”

Glorfindel stared down at Erestor until Erestor could no longer bear it and looked away. “How can you promise something like that? You have no idea what you have done, or else, you would not have done it.”

“I do flirt with them. I know I do. I—I thought I had to,” muttered Erestor. “I thought... I have been doing it for so long, I just got so used to it.”

“If I see you flirting with any of them again, so help me...” Glorfindel sighed. “Do you see what this does to me? I love you too damn much to be mad at you, but it is tearing me apart!”

“I know... I know, I am sorry... if I could take it all back...” Erestor lifted his arms up and dropped them down helplessly. “I have been so stupid.”

“I was going to go with foolish, but if you prefer, yes, you have been an idiot.” Glorfindel found another empty bucket and brought it over. “Of course, I am going to forgive you. Of course, I am going to give you second and third chances if it turns out you are unable to keep your eyes from roving and your lips from saying things that I wish you were saying to me. I love you too much not to, darling, but I wish you paid more attention to me.” He leaned over and gently kissed Erestor’s cheek.

“I cannot keep doing this,” whispered Erestor. He had closed his eyes to keep himself from crying. “Glorfindel, I have to admit something to you. I hope you can forgive me, because I... I have been so cruel for so long not to say anything.”

“You are no longer in love with me?” guessed Glorfindel.

“No, I love you... I really do love you, Glorfindel, but...”

Glorfindel took a deep breath. “This... relationship... just does not work for you, does it? I mean, I suppose I understand. I took a huge risk, really. We both did.”

“We did, but I am glad we did. I am happier than I have ever been. You misunderstand me, Glorfindel.” Erestor folded his hands together and opened his eyes. He blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. “Some people say that opposite attract.”

“Yes, they do,” agreed Glorfindel, somewhat confused.

“Well... we are lucky, really. You and I, we are both intelligent – you are smarter than I am, even if you let me believe otherwise at times. Both of us are creative – you like to paint, and I have my poetry. We like to ride and race horses, we like to hike and take walks... you might say we are perfectly matched.”

“Except, you would rather be with a ellyth instead of an ellon,” said Glorfindel in a calm, accepting voice.

Erestor stared across the stable at the wall. He heard Glorfindel shift and stand up, and shuffle his feet to the door. “No,” he said softly.

Glorfindel turned back around. “What do you mean, no? I know about all of the ladies you were with – even the ones you never actually told me about. Just your time with Galadriel was enough to figure that out.”

“There was someone before her.”

Dumbfounded, Glorfindel returned. “Who was she?”

“He,” answered Erestor, still staring across the stable.

“What?” Glorfindel stooped down in front of Erestor. “Did I hear you right?”

“It was a long, long time ago,” explained Erestor. His chin quivered. “I was young, he was young... we had not even reached our majority, not quite.”

“You were the same age?”

“Almost. I was a little older.” A tear slid down his cheek. “We had no idea what we were feeling, we just felt a connection. It was not something we expected to have happen – we used to spend a lot of time together. One day, we just... we were just sitting and talking and goofing around, and then he leaned against me and practically fell into my lap, and... the next thing I knew...”

“You lied to me.” Glorfindel sat down on the floor in disbelief. “Why would you have done that? Why... why? If this is true – and, forgive me this time, because I am having a difficult time believing you – why would you have kept this from me?”

“It all went very badly when it came out.” Erestor was openly weeping now as he told the story. “We said nothing to anyone, but people began to suspect just from how we acted. Our parents somehow discovered where we were meeting and confronted us – he lost his temper and it all came tumbling out.”

“Go on,” coaxed Glorfindel, sensing more to the story.

“My parents threw me out; disowned me. I was told it was unnatural and the only way I would be accepted back was to be married to an ellyth. He had the same sort of problem.”

“What happened to him?” asked Glorfindel as Erestor removed a cloth from his pocket and blew his nose.

It took Erestor some time to collect his thoughts, his eyelids swollen, his nose red, his voice thick with emotion. “His father gave him a choice – he could stay with me and lose his place in the hierarchy, or he could leave me and regain his title. We both lived on the farm together for some time – those were uncertain years, but... we were happy, for that little while.” The tears began to flow again, and Erestor recalled the past. “Then word came to us that his father was to proclaim the children of his second marriage as the true heirs, and he would not be next in line any longer. We talked about it; we agreed he needed to make amends with his father. It was not long before he announced his own engagement. He came privately to tell me; we sat and cried together for hours. Then he was gone, a shadow of the past.”

“But you continued to see him; at least, there were times you were at events and celebrations together.”

“Of course, but he was married, and he was happy. He was truly happy. I saw how his wife made him feel, and how he adored his children, and I wanted that,” admitted Erestor. “I needed that, because I was slowly going insane without him.”

“None of the others you were with after him gave you the sort of happiness you were looking for,” said Glorfindel flatly.

“You have,” Erestor told him. “You have given me all I have ever wanted, and more.”

“Why did you keep this from me? Why did you keep acting like...” Glorfindel shook his head. “You were the one who kept telling me it was fine to be this way – and look at you! You give me advice you could never take yourself! You knew how much I was in love with you, for all those years! How could you lie to me – repeatedly?”

Erestor shook his head wordlessly.

“I need an answer, Erestor. I am just sick right now as I think of everything that has happened to us.”

“I was ashamed! You have no idea how bad it was here in those days.” Erestor reached out to touch Glorfindel; his hand was intercepted and held. “It was very hard for me to cope with. I did not have anyone there to tell me it was all right. In fact, there were a lot of people telling me how awful and wrong I was.”

“But when we were in Rivendell… there was no reason for you to continue the act there. You could have easily revealed yourself. Think of all the time together that was lost,” said Glorfindel.

Erestor squeezed Glorfindel’s hand. “My whole world came crashing down – twice. Three or four times, if you count Gondolin. I was more fragile than you know. Besides, every time I came close to saying something, Gildor would show up.”

“Oh, right…” Glorfindel gave Erestor’s arm a little tug. “Come down here by me. You cannot be comfortable sitting on that.”

Erestor sniffled and joined Glorfindel on the floor. “I am sorry for behaving as I have.”

“You had your reasons, no matter how absurd. I would have left Gildor in a heartbeat to be with you, and you know that.”

“I felt unworthy of you.”

Glorfindel could not help but chuckle. “Oh, come now.”

“It is true! Glorfindel, you are so high above me… of course, because you are, you do not see it. You are so much better than I will ever be – of course, I did not think Gildor was worthy of you, either, but then I am not sure anyone really is.”

“I want you,” assured Glorfindel, “and all of your little imperfections. I want you to stop leering at anyone else, though, and I want you to start being my partner in public. Do you have any idea how bad it is to have to stand off to the side while your husband pays more attention to some hussy than he does to you?”

Erestor sighed. “I am sorry.”

Glorfindel was quiet, contemplative, as if a sudden thought had come to him. “You know… I was trying to think, how could we break you of the habit – but then, the reason you do it is to keep up appearances. If you just turn off your charm tomorrow, everyone is going to think something is wrong. Then we will have many weeks of convincing people everything is fine, but some who will not believe it – honesty is the best way to go with these sorts of things.”

“What are you talking about?” wondered Erestor.

“Remember that other secret you were trying to keep, and failed miserably in doing so? No one was supposed to know Haldir was your son, and no one was supposed to know you were a Vala—“

“Part Vala,” Erestor corrected.

“Whatever. The point is, we got everyone together and tell them all at once.”

Erestor looked petrified. “Everyone?”

“Well, no, not EVERYONE… I meant, everyone at the house. How long did it take for your other secrets to spread across Valinor? Auntie Galadriel has a very tough time keeping her mouth shut when it comes to good gossip,” remarked Glorfindel. “After dinner tonight, when we all retire to the parlor. It will be the perfect time to talk about this, and any other secrets you happen to think of between now and then.”

As Glorfindel began to stand up, he heard Erestor say, “I know it was you.”

Glorfindel sat back down again. “What?”

“The night of the wedding… I know it was you.” Crimson colored Erestor’s cheeks. “You said, any other secrets I had I should tell you about. Well, I know it was you. Tauniel and Aranel both had their hair tied up, but someone’s hair brushed my thighs… and I could… smell you. You have a very distinct scent.”

One eyebrow arched in semi-amusement. Glorfindel leaned in closer and whispered, “You knew, and you said nothing. You really are stupid, love. You could have had that every night.” Glorfindel enunciated each word. “Instead, your bed was cold and your arms were empty.”

“I know.” Erestor’s voice was wistful and forlorn.

“I think we can skip telling everyone about that second secret,” decided Glorfindel as he helped Erestor up off of the ground. “That first, one, though, is not going to stay hidden much longer.”

“I just had an absolutely brilliant idea.” Dinner plates were just being collected, and murmured discussion of what everyone was preparing to do that evening flittered about. Glorfindel waited until he had everyone’s attention and then said, “Does everyone recall that lovely parlor game ‘Honest Truth’?”

“Oh, the one that is like ‘Truth or Dare’, but it is just truths. Yes, I remember that one,” piped up Elladan. “I like that one much better than ‘Truth or Dare’.”

“Yes, but everyone answers the same question,” Elrond reminded his son. “So it is a little different.”

Galadriel set the stack of bowls into the wash basin and filled it with water. “It has been a while since we have played a game as a family. Celeborn, what say you?”

Sitting at one end of the table, her husband shrugged. “As long as the questions do not get too intimate,” he said. “There are some things I would rather not know about my children or their children.”

“A nice, quiet, family version,” assured Glorfindel, who was fairly certain the game would not make it past the first round.

Celebrian removed her apron and set it aside. “We should let the dishes soak first,” she suggested to her mother, for some of the residents of the house were already heading into the parlor. There was agreement from Galadriel, and they joined the exodus from the kitchen.

This left Erestor yet sitting at the table, and Glorfindel standing beside the door. “Ready?” asked Glorfindel. On one hand, he felt bad for making Erestor sit through dinner, waiting for this moment. On the other, it hardly made up for everything he had been put through over the years.

“Not really,” admitted Erestor, but he stood up and joined Glorfindel at the door. Instead of flinching when Glorfindel slid his arm around his waist, he stepped closer and walked with him into the parlor. There were a few smirks as they sat down together on the sofa, and a smile from Elrond when Glorfindel winked at him.

“Someone looks cozy,” said Galadriel pointedly as she retrieved her stitching from a basket next to the rocker.

Glorfindel could hardly wait to see her jaw drop, but he patiently waited for the rest to settle in for the anticipated game. “So, who should start?”

“You wanted to play the game; I think you should start,” suggested Rumil.

“Hmm… let me think of a good one…” Glorfindel rubbed his chin. “Oh, I know… Who was your first kiss with?”

“That is an interesting one,” agreed Celebrian. “Which way do we go; left or right?”

Glorfindel looked left, where Haldir was sitting, and then right, to where Erestor was. ‘Like father, like son’, he thought, knowing the answer that Haldir would have to give. “I think we play to the right,” said Glorfindel, and Haldir looked quite grateful for this decision.

There was a moment of silence as Erestor observed Glorfindel’s nonchalant expression. Across the room, Galadriel smiled and drew her needle through the fabric she held, obviously thinking she knew the answer. Erestor smiled, almost laughed, and answered fondly, “Feanor.”