“You have never whipped anyone before, but you have been whipped in the past, have you not?” Erestor paused for only a moment. “’Tis how you knew how to land the strokes; for the same reason you ride your horses unbridled and refuse to break them. Someone tried to break you once.”
Glorfindel shivered as the truth he had been hiding so long and so well came forth so easily from the mouth of this mysterious and unusual elf. Tears never meant to be shed now fell. “My... my father. He beat me. A lot.”
A pained breath was taken in by Erestor. “But you had siblings and he was not violent with them. You felt you needed to protect them at times and would distract his attention to yourself.”
“How do you know these things?” demanded Glorfindel.
“I am old. I watch and listen more than I act and speak - which is a good thing, considering the trouble I get into when I do act or speak. There is also the fact that you remind me of an elf I knew in Valinor. Middle child, but he was the ‘big brother’ type; his older brothers had been long grown before he arrived, and he was closer in age to his younger brother and sister. He crossed the sea; I am not entirely sure what has become of him,” admitted Erestor. “But you act like he did in his youth in some respects.”
“I... do have younger siblings,” Glorfindel shared. “A sister, and a brother that I hardly know.”
“Ah, just like Angrod then, but in the rev—Fin? Glorfindel?” Sitting up despite ths obvious pain, Erestor took hold of Glorfindel’s hand. “What is wrong?”
Glorfindel shook uncontrollably. “Please… not his name... do not say it again...”
“Truly, I am sorry, I did not know it would-“ Erestor gathered both of Glorfindel’s hands in his. “Was he your-“
Rapidly, Glorfindel nodded, and was now rocking in his chair. “Please,” he whimpered, “Please, please do not say it, please!”
“I will say no more on the subject.” Erestor coaxed Glorfindel to stand up, clenching his teeth as the pair moved slowly to an alcove that led out to the private balcony. “Let me get you something to drink.”
“No, you should be in bed.” Glorfindel made an attempt to turn them around, but found himself gently pushed back into a plush chair.
“I need some air, and I hate resting while on my stomach. No way to really relax in that manner.” Erestor brought forth a glass jug of liquor and two small glasses. Sitting down gingerly on the edge of a footstool so that nothing would be against his back, the older ellon filled both glasses and handed one to Glorfindel. “Tastes horrible the first drink, but by the third you no longer notice.”
Glorfindel thanked his friend and then picked up his glass and tipped it back- indeed, it was foul at first, but the calm that washed over him made up for it. “I feel a fool,” he said as he poured another portion into his glass.
“There is no need for that.” Erestor nursed his drink slowly, sipping it now and again. “Forgive my constant and unintentional observation, but might I pose a different query?”
Laughing at the formality of the request, Glorfindel swished the liquid back and forth in his glass. “What else have you discovered about me, meldir?” he asked with unease.
“To be quite blunt, you are not really four hundred or five hundred or whatever it is you keep telling everyone.”
“That sounded like a statement and not a question,” teased Glorfindel, retrieving the bottle for another refill. Erestor nodded and waited. With a sigh, Glorfindel asked, “Well, then, how old do you believe me to be?”
“Oh, I am not very good at that game,” admitted the dark ellon. “I never really learned my numbers. Let me think... definitely younger. Perhaps, a hundred and fifty?”
“You would have been closer without the fifty. I am seventeen and a century; eighteen this spring.” Glorfindel awaited the inevitable, but when Erestor merely nodded, he added, “I came here as a child, more or less. I made captain before my majority, but no one really knew it.”
“You are more mature than I was at your age,” commended Erestor. “Actually, you may have noticed, there seems to be a part of me that never quite grew up.”
“The part that likes to dance on Ecthelion’s fountain in the early hours of the day, the part that sneaks extra desserts at dinner, or the part that insults other lords back?” wondered Glorfindel out loud.
“Exactly,” grinned Erestor. “I can see I am not the only one who makes observations.”
After a stretch of silence, Glorfindel said, “I suppose you are trying now to determine just how it was that a nearly grown elfling ended up on his own in Gondolin.”
“I was, but I feared it might infringe upon the earlier forbidden conversation,” answered Erestor.
Glorfindel nodded. “The conversation is not forbidden; only the name. I never wish to hear it again, if I can help it.” As if a further explanation were warranted, Glorfindel then said, “He is a kinslayer; he is no more my father than I am his son. He disowned me and I left before he could do what I knew he wanted to.”
“I am so sorry.” Erestor had set his glass down and was now fully paying attention to Glorfindel. “There were times when my parents and I disagreed, and I left as soon as I was able, but... no one should need deal with the sort of anguish you did. I can sympathize with you on one point. My mother was a kinslayer; not exactly something to be proud of.”
“He felt justified. He felt he really had a reason to do what he did. That it was his right to... abuse me, for turning out how I did.” Staring out through the open doors that led to the balcony, Glorfindel sighed. “He thought I was sick- like some diseased animal that should be gotten rid of before they infect any others. The view here is not so different.”
“Because you are- forgive me if I am off the mark,” said Erestor carefully, “but is it that you-- because you have a different... preference, than most males.”
Glorfindel held Erestor’s gaze for a long while, contemplating just how to answer. When he finally decided he had no fear in telling his secret to the dark ellon, he nodded slightly. “I suppose you picked that up from simply observing me as well.”
“Actually, I learned that from watching the way that the ladies act around you. You are trusted by them. Never a threat and more like a big brother instead of a suitor. They like you,” explained Erestor.
“I suppose then it is only a matter of time before one of them gossips to the entire city, and then I shall have to be executed to be made an example of,” spoke Glorfindel ruefully.
Erestor shook his head. “Oh, no. They would never let on about you, and would defend you and your honor to the last. You are a treasure to them, and they will not see you lost. You are beloved of them, Glorfindel, that I easily know.”
Glorfindel’s gaze wandered back to the balcony. “Sometimes at night, I would hide under the bed or outside under the window if I knew he was having a bad day and would come for me. If he could not find me, then come morning sometimes he forgot. It was always good to take the chance; if he did not find me, maybe I would skip being whipped that night.
“There were times when he would come home and slam the door. He would say nothing, he would just growl and start taking his belt off. If I was right there, my mother would rush my sister away and leave me with him. If I was not there, she might try to make excuses for me, but after my sister was old enough to talk back, I never wanted to take the chance. She stood up for me once, my sister, and he hit her; knocked one of her teeth out. Then, he just beat me harder for it. So I stopped hiding and just learned not to scream.”
The blond looked up, wiping away the errant tears, to see the fiery anger in Erestor’s eyes. “How can anyone do something so horrible to their own child?” he murmured to himself through clenched teeth.
“I asked him, before I left to help me. I wish I knew how to change so that I was not like this,” said Glorfindel sadly. “I wish I were not always in fear because someday the wrong person might find out what I am. There are days I pray with all my heart for Eru to take this curse from me.”
“Look, I know there are those who would say it is wrong. There are rules and laws against it, and those who act as your father did and as Turgon does. But there is nothing wrong about being who you are. There is nothing wrong about having the feelings that you do.” Erestor sighed. “Aiya. I wish you had made it to Doriath instead of this place. King Thingol is an ass, but at least he was accepting of the different ways others loved. Your father, Turgon, and many others- they are afraid of what they do not understand, and so they fight it and destroy it.”
“What if they are right, though?” Glorfindel rested his elbows upon his knees and bowed his head in his hands. “What if I am the one who is wrong?”
“Listen to me.” Erestor gently tilted Glorfindel’s chin up until they were looking at each other once more. “There is nothing wrong with you. Eru does not curse good elves, and you, meldir, are one of the best.” The comment had Glorfindel blushing, and Erestor continued. “If we were all the same, there would be nothing to make us special. Wisdom from my father to me regarding the Nandor when they decided not to make the journey to Valinor with the rest of us.”
Dropping his jaw slightly, Glorfindel regarded Erestor in a new light. “Valinor? I knew from what Ecthelion said that you came from there, but you were not born there?”
Uneasily, Erestor said, “I was a child when we began to travel.”
“So you are one of The Eldar, not just one of the eldar,” said Glorfindel with a bit of awe in his voice.
“Not... exactly...” Erestor picked up his glass, frowned, and filled it, and then poured another drink for Glorfindel as well. “You revealed your secret; in turn it is only fair you know mine. My mother, as you may have assumed by now, was Eldarin. My father is an Ainu.”
“One of the Maiar?” asked Glorfindel with overwhelming curiosity.
Erestor shook his head. “One of the... other ones.”
“Really?” Glorfindel studied Erestor hard and then said, “Namo.”
“What? Oh! Oh, no, not him,” smiled Erestor. “You know, he is depicted quite wrong. He is quite fair, like his brother.”
“I was going to say Lorien next, but the way you describe him, I would say that is a no as well.”
“Stop a moment. I just revealed to you my heritage. The fact I am half Valarin. And your greatest concern is guessing which was my father?” Erestor looked thoroughly amused.
Glorfindel shrugged. “I suspected you did not wish to have such excitement made about it, or else it was something you would tell to greater audiences. However, if it thrills you to know, my knees are shaking and my heart is racing to be in your presence!”
The laughter that came from Erestor cheered Glorfindel immensely, for it indeed could be the best cure, and he hoped in some way it might help the dark elf forget his pain (if the alcohol had not already dulled it). “As you should be,” he joked lightly.
“I know who it is- and for a moment I nearly said Tulkas because of your spirit, but it must logically be Orome. In all the history I have ever heard, it is always Orome who is with the host of the Eldar when they come to Valinor.” Glorfindel smiled quite smugly when he was rewarded with a nod from Erestor.
“The ellon I thought for years to be my father named me Tatannin, but my mother called me Eresse and soon after I was born no one called me by the other name. In fact, I only recall the first one because I once asked what it was, and my friends would use it to taunt me,” said Erestor. “But Orome has not told me what he named me. Not yet.”
“A coincidence, then- Glorfindel is the name my mother gave me.” The blond nodded to himself. “My father called me Anglorel, but I long ago stopped using it. My father encouraged my using my mother’s name. It was Laurefinde, actually, but because of the ban on Quenya, no one used that. It was always Glorfindel, except to my Uncle Aegnor, who often said he dared King Thingol to come stop him.”
“You have very lovely names,” said Erestor after a moment’s hesitation. “Nothing like Eresse or Erestor.”
“Your names are just fine,” argued Glorfindel gently. “Nice and short, too,” he chuckled, recalling the lesson they finally reached earlier that week. Now that he finally knew all of the characters in the alphabet, he was working on writing words. Glorfindel had found, of them all, his name was far becoming the most challenging to write. When Glorfindel got discouraged, Erestor had lightened the mood by teaching him how to write short words that had no place in polite company.
“Glorfindel, I must ask you not to reveal anything I have told you to anyone else,” Erestor said in a more serious tone.
“I am certainly not going to say anything. Remember- there are no rules against mixed breeds here, only ‘the unclean’. You hold all of the cards, my friend.” Glorfindel finished his drink, shaking his head when Erestor picked up the bottle to refresh it. “As soon as you are well, the first thing we are going to do is go riding.”
“With the horses? No, thank you,” answered Erestor disdainfully. None of the riding lessons had gone very well, and had soon been replaced with extra archery and swordfighting.
With a simple shrug, Glorfindel replied, “Half-Valarin or not, it would be a terrible tragedy if the son of Orome never learns how to ride a horse.”
