“You need to go.”
Faelion blinked and bowed his head. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He stood up, looking to the ground the entire time.
Glorfindel waited until the young ellon was nearly to the door before speaking again. “Faelion, it is nothing against you. You are a very nice, talented person who will make someone very happy some day. However, and perhaps you were not aware, I am married.”
“Sir, I...” Faelion turned back around, looking miserable. “Glorfindel, I know the truth. I know you are unhappy. I can tell how you feel and I hear the things Uncle Salgant talks about with Duilin.”
“And what is it that you hear your uncle say?” pressed Glorfindel, too curious now to force Faelion out just yet.
“That your marriage is untrue; that it is false and merely for appearances. That...”
“That what?” prompted Glorfindel.
Faelion’s gaze shied away. “That you are in love with Erestor, but he is not in love with you. I guess I just thought... since Erestor... and you... well...”
“You thought you could do better as the lead than as the understudy.”
“Something like that, sir,” replied Faelion.
Glorfindel leaned his head back in order to look up at the ceiling, taking a moment to decide upon the right words. Finally, he looked forward again and lifted up his hand. His fingers twisted the simple band of gold, lifting it just past his knuckle but not off. “Do you believe in keeping promises?”
“Yes, sir, of course I do.”
“This,” he said, rubbing the smooth surface, “represents the promise that I made.” He slid the ring back down his finger. “And I intend to keep this promise.”
Faelion swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry to disturb you, sir.”
“Is this going to cause a problem on the training field?”
“No, sir,” replied Faelion in a cold, stern voice.
“Good. You are a good rider. I would hate to lose you from the cavalry.”
Faelion hesitated for a moment. “Thank you, sir. Permission to leave, sir.”
“Granted.” Glorfindel waited until Faelion had gone to drop his stoic façade. He combed and braided his hair before curling up on the couch, sick in his stomach from turning Faelion away. Before bed, he prayed he made the right decision.
---
The next day was a rush, between reassigning his officers the duties he had planned to take on, to attending council and having lunch with Ecthelion. Erestor had declined the offer to join them, stating he had other plans. The meal proved more business than pleasure; there were many topics that had been addressed in council with which Glorfindel was sadly unfamiliar, and Ecthelion spent the afternoon happily tutoring his old squire. A visit by Galdor extended the informal meeting, leading to Glorfindel being late to dinner with Erestor and the ladies.
The conversation was at best, boring. Glorfindel found he was doing most of the talking, and that answers were polite, but brief. The courses were rushed, and dessert was presented immediately after the last morsel was eaten. It began to make Glorfindel uncomfortable, and upset his stomach slightly. He pushed the thoughts aside and turned the discussion to telling them how Ecthelion was doing.
At the mention that the invitations had been delivered but never received, Aranel cringed and apologized. “I forgot about that! Father mentioned it to me three or four times, and I kept neglecting to mention it to you.”
“We actually attended the celebration,” said Tauniel. “After the two of you left, we were going to go to the market. On the way, we encountered Lady Idril, and she insisted we join her.”
“That had to be exciting,” acknowledged Glorfindel, for although he had contact with the Gondolin nobility on a regular basis, it was not often for Tauniel or even Aranel to speak with the king, his daughter, or his nephew.
“Oh, it was thrilling!” answered Tauniel. “We had the most wonderful talk about embroidery!”
To this, Erestor rolled his eyes, but remained silent as he finished his tart. Beside him, Aranel was grinning madly. “Lady Idril remarked upon how lovely the pattern was on Tauni’s gown. She asked for the name of the dressmaker, and when Tauni explained that she was the one who sewed it, well, it was a lovely conversation and by the time we reached the party we were invited to join the lady’s sewing circle. Well, Tauniel was, but she told Lady Idril that we were best of friends, and the invitation was extended to me as well!”
“Sounds wonderful,” chuckled Glorfindel, mostly to the eye rolling going on across the table. “What do you think, Erestor?”
“Fabulous,” said Erestor, instantly transitioning into professional actor. “Marvelous opportunity. No one is happier than I.”
“Is that why you keep making funny facing?” mused Tauniel as she stood up to collect the dishes. “You know, if you keep doing that, your face is going to freeze that way.”
Erestor smirked and pushed his chair back from the table. “I suppose I should be content. I would much rather the two of you spend your time knitting and stitching and gossiping.”
“As opposed to what?” asked Aranel.
“As opposed to other, more masculine pursuits. Like, swordplay and chariot racing and politics.”
“Ah. Did ‘she’ do those things?” asked Aranel. No one needed to explain that ‘she’ was meant to imply Artanis.
He nodded. “And how.”
Glorfindel gathered the rest of the dishes and left Erestor and Aranel to discuss the differences between genders. “Let me do something around here to help out,” insisted Glorfindel as he carried the bowls into the kitchen.
“No need for that.” Tauniel took the stack out of Glorfindel’s hands. “I have everything under control. The garbage was sent down the chute earlier, Aranel and I changed the linens and folded the rest, and all of the chamber pots were emptied this morning.”
“I can wash the dishes, then,” he suggested.
“Oh, you do not have to do that,” said Tauniel as Glorfindel pumped water into the sink. “I can take care of those. Besides, you have so much work to do down at the stables.”
“Actually, I assigned the other officers to take care of things this evening and tomorrow,” he explained as he looked in the cabinet for a towel.
“Are you staying here tonight, then?” Aranel asked.
Glorfindel began to nod, but when he looked up and saw that Aranel and Erestor had moved closer to the room and that the other three exchanging looks, he said, “Well, I was going to. Unless, of course, you would rather I not be here.”
“That is silly, Glorfindel,” admonished Tauniel. “Why would we want you to leave?”
He closed the cabinet and returned to the entryway between the kitchen and sitting room in order to address all of them. “So that the three of you can be alone.”
The uneasy silence was broken by Tauniel. “That is ridiculous. Why would we—“
“It smells like sex in here,” he cut in. “I might be half-blind, but I can see what is going on. The two of you go either way, and he hardly cares who as long as it has breasts and wears a skirt.” Glorfindel shrugged. “No room for me in a trio.” When none of them responded, he locked his gaze with Erestor and said, “Must be nice to have a harem.”
Aranel stomped out of the room and into the bedroom she and Tauniel shared. Erestor followed soon after. Glorfindel was unsure if he was more hurt by what was going on behind his back, or that Erestor made no attempt to deny it. He spotted a towel hanging over a chair and pulled it off, draping it across his shoulder. Tauniel followed him back into the kitchen. “There is no need for you to clean up. I will get to it in the morning. Come on,” she insisted as she gave a tug on his arm. “Come with me to the sitting room. I can fix you a glass of brandy and we can sit and talk a while.”
“I hate brandy,” answered Glorfindel as he finished pumping water into the basin.
“Some... something else, then. A glass of cherry cordial,” she suggested.
Glorfindel shook his head again. “I detest hard liquors.”
“Wine,” Tauniel corrected herself. “You like wine.”
“What kind?” he asked in a restrained voice.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I... red? White?”
“Blush; sweet and dry.” He began to scrub the dishes with the washrag. “Have I been gone that long?”
Tauniel let out a frustrated sigh. “Blush, right. I should have remembered. Glorfindel, you have to take into consideration the fact that we barely know each other. Except for the fact that we are in the situation we are in, neither of us would ever have known one another at all.”
Very calmly, Glorfindel set the rag aside and washed off his hands. He turned and said quietly, “You like lilies, the little white ones, not the big orange kind that grow wild around the gates. If you had a choice of desserts, you would choose chocolate cake with vanilla icing. You like cows, hate pigs, wish we owned a dog. Your mother’s pet-name for you is Lira, but she named you Elmirien. You have far too many pairs of shoes, because you hate to go barefooted indoors or out because you once stepped on a nail that went through your big toe when you were little. It left a scar for years and permanently left it crooked after it healed, and your favorite color is blue. Light blue, like the sky, not dark blue like the sea.”
“How do you know so much?” wondered Tauniel as Glorfindel folded the towel and set it back on the chair.
“I listen and I observe, and I guess maybe I was trying too hard to get to know you. I guess I thought we were supposed to at least pretend we liked each other for this marriage thing to work.”
“Glorfindel... you poor thing,” said Tauniel, touching his cheek gently. “You were really taking this seriously.”
Glorfindel shrugged.
“Did you learn nothing from Erestor’s non-scandal? Neither I nor Aranel care what the two of you do nor whom you are with. Find a lover, Glorfindel, enjoy yourself. Yes, the three of us are enjoying each other’s company, and no, you have no interest in what we are doing, and no, I am sorry, but he does not have the same feelings for you that you have for him. So... find someone. Please,” begged Tauniel.
With a steady stride, Glorfindel went to the couch to retrieve the jerkin he had taken off earlier. He pulled it back on and did the same with his boots. Standing at the door, he looked over his shoulder and asked, “Do you at least know what my favorite color is?”
Tauniel folded her hands together and gave one of her famous far-off looks. “Is it... gold or yellow or something?”
“No, but thanks for at least guessing,” he mumbled.
“Blue!” she called out as he opened the door.
“Green,” he said before shutting the door behind him.
Glorfindel’s first thought was to go back to the stables and barracks and sleep in his private quarters. By the time he reached the bottom of the tower, he seemed to have remembered that Salgant’s house was on the way, and that Salgant was one prone to insomnia. With any luck, the portly fellow was still awake and would welcome the idea of entertaining someone at the late hour, if Duilin was not already there.
Deciding to take the chance, Glorfindel set his course for the House of the Harp. His path was obstructed by many couples who had decided to take in the night air, including one couple who looked quite familiar. At second glance, he saw that it was the pair of ellon he had seen hiding some time past. King Fingon’s overturn of the Gondolin law had brought many out into the open who would not have dared in the past, but Glorfindel was still cautious and was glad that Tauniel and Aranel had decided to remain so as well.
The knocker felt heavy, due to Glorfindel’s exhaustion. He fought to recall the name of the butler as he heard footsteps approaching the door. Thran...something. Perhaps he could muddle the second part a bit. Thranvorn... Thrandor... it was close, and hopefully, it would do.
But when the door was opened, Thran-whatever-his-name-was did not open it. “Good evening, sir.”
“Faelion... good evening.” Glorfindel looked past the young ellon, noting the darkened foyer.
“You were expecting Thrangorn. Tonight is one of Uncle’s nights to perform in the tower. He always takes the servants with him for the evening,” explained Faelion. He sighed and added, “I am actually glad he is there. I did not want him to be here when you came.”
Glorfindel entered the house as Faelion stepped aside. “You... were expecting me?”
“I was expecting one of the other officers, but I guess I should have known that you would come instead.”
The door was closed as Glorfindel tried to find a logical explanation for Faelion’s words. “Maybe you should tell me why you assumed that one of my officers was going to pay you a visit tonight.”
“To be honest, I was anticipating an earlier visit when I did not show up for practice today, but then I realized you would not send someone until after the day’s training was over.”
“Oh.” Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “You never showed up. I would not have known that; I was in meetings all day and put my chief commander in charge. Your absence must not have bothered him enough to seek me out. There is probably a report on my desk mentioning it. You do know this qualifies as desertion and is punishable by a sentence of one to three years of confinement in the king’s dungeon.”
Faelion let out a resigned sigh. “I know. I will not fight you, either, so there is no need to put me in chains. I will go peacefully.”
A small smile uneasily came upon Glorfindel. “You would go to trial first, and I have a feeling you would be granted a stay if you agreed to fulfill your training at another house. However, I could also say that I gave permission for your absence and neglected to tell my commander about this. With everything going on, it would not be so strange to say it slipped my mind.”
“I do not want you to treat me any differently than you would any of the other recruits, sir,” stated Faelion. “There is no reason I should be given preferential treatment.”
“I am a big advocate of second chances,” said Glorfindel. “I would more than likely do the same for any of your peers. Things happen, and... it could not have been an easy night for you. I think, if I were in your place, I may have done the same thing. I do not think I would want to face me in the morning. And, in regards to last night, I must apologize. I was harsh and unkind.”
“You were just being honest,” reasoned Faelion. “Thank you for that.”
For a few awkward moments, they stood near the door and stared at the ceiling, floor, and dark paths until Glorfindel cleared his throat and said, “I should probably, um... leave. I mean, obviously, you will want to get some rest for practice tomorrow.”
“I will be up for a few hours more,” said Faelion. “I was just about to have a little snack, if you would like to join me. Dark chocolate, and uncle brought in some strawberries yesterday.”
“Where did he find strawberries at this time of the year?” wondered Glorfindel.
“They came from the new greenhouse. He took the best plants from the fields and orchards, moved them to pots, and brought them into the enclosure. They have been flourishing.” Faelion led the way through the dim house to the kitchen, which Glorfindel was not surprised to see was quite large. Half of the strawberries were in a bowl on the counter, while the other half had already had their stems removed and were on a plate. “I will be done in a few minutes. I like to remove the stems ahead of time, it just takes a while.”
“Can I help?” asked Glorfindel.
Faelion held out the little knife he had picked up. “If you want to finish these, I can get the chocolate.”
Glorfindel worked on carefully trimming away the leaves while Faelion retrieved a large brown brick-like object that he chipped a number of chunks from. “This is some kitchen,” remarked Glorfindel as Faelion wrapped the remaining chocolate in a cloth and put it away.
“My uncle likes to walk around and taste everything as the cooks are making it, so he made it big enough for that, and for lots of people to work in here at the same time without bumping into each other.” Faelion set down the smaller plate of chocolate next to the one with the strawberries on it. “Let me find a tray and we can take all of it up to the observation room.”
“Where is that?” asked Glorfindel as Faelion dug around in one of the cabinets. A couple of pots crashed out, but Glorfindel caught them before they hit the floor.
“You were there before. The room upstairs with the windows on the ceiling and the great acoustics. We sit up there a lot after dinner because it has the best view and the most comfortable chairs.” Faelion led the way, and after some twists and turns, they arrived at the same room where the private cast party had been held, and where Glorfindel had spoken to Salgant and Duilin many nights ago. “Would you like some wine?” asked Faelion once they had settled into the chairs nearest to the windows.
“I would appreciate that, thank you,” replied Glorfindel as he picked up a sliver of chocolate. He inhaled the intoxicating scent before biting into it and letting the candy liquefy. As he reached out for a strawberry, he felt the stem of a goblet brush his hand and took hold of it instead. As soon as he saw the contents, he stopped and stared.
Faelion was lowering himself into his own chair, and paused upon seeing Glorfindel’s expression. “Sorry, I thought that was the kind you liked. Let me get you something else,” he said as he stood up again and reached for the glass of pinkish colored wine.
Glorfindel shook his head and set the drink beside the treats on the little table between their chairs as he himself stood up. “You know me so well,” he said softly.
Blushing, Faelion dropped his hands to his sides. “I love you,” he said, part explanation, part apology.
