For the next few days, Glorfindel slept while Erestor tended to the pyres and watched for Rog to return. As expected, it was the evening of the fourth day when Erestor spotted a figure marched toward them. He turned to go into the cave and tell Glorfindel, but saw his friend slumped against the entrance. “How far away is he?”
“An hour or two,” said Erestor. “How are you feeling?” he dared to ask.
Glorfindel sighed. “I can barely stand.” He breathed in sharply and trembled in spite of himself. Tears stung at his eyes and he shook his head. “I never expected it to end this way,” he muttered as Erestor joined him and helped him back into the cave.
“Shhh... stop talking like that.” Most of their conversations had revolved around death and the expectations that Glorfindel had when Rog did arrive. Now that the hour was upon them, the reality was startling. “Just rest and let me stall him. There is still much to be done before we leave.”
Too tired to argue, Glorfindel settled down in his usual spot. He checked over his wounds as he waited. His arm had returned to its normal color, but was still sore when moved certain ways and was useless for carrying things. He tried to peek under the linen bandages wrapped around his chest, but the blood had dried them against his skin and he was afraid to tear the wounds open again.
Outside, Erestor rushed around, tidying up the area. As he discovered, his diligence in his duties had left very little to be done. The pyres had burned and the ashes had been taken into the forest where they were spread free into the wind. What little gear there was could be managed easily by Erestor, who now stood at attention as Rog approached.
Rog was still wearing his full armor as he slowed down to stop in front of Erestor. His shield was on his back and his mace was in one hand. He attached his weapon at his hip as he looked over the area. “You have been busy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Carefully, Rog walked around the now extinguished pyres. “You do this all yourself?”
“Yes, sir.” Erestor stood motionless, only his eyes moving as he watched Rog explore.
Eventually, Rog ordered an explanation for why Erestor was not with the rest of the army, and once given set his jaw angrily but did not reprimand his herald. Instead, he looked around and asked, “Where is he?”
“Resting,” answered Erestor, his eyes keeping a close watch on Rog’s weapons, especially the large knife he had seen him use to slit the throats of deer when they hunted. Erestor hesitated, and then nodded toward the cave. “He is in there.”
Rog took another moment to look sternly upon Erestor before he crouched down in order to enter the cave. Erestor followed after him and quickly maneuvered between Rog and Glorfindel. The Lord of the Hammer observed the behavior curiously but said nothing as he watched Erestor crawl to the back of the cave where Glorfindel rested. Rog surveyed Glorfindel from where he was as Erestor pointed out the numerous injuries the young elf had. “Can you walk?” he asked abruptly, cutting Erestor off.
“I will try,” offered Glorfindel, though he was not very confident of his ability to walk back to Gondolin, let alone outside the cave.
It seemed Rog sensed this apprehension, and he fully entered the cave and sat down near the entrance, effectively blocking anyone from leaving. He removed his helm and wiped the sweat and dirt from his brow, then scratched the top of his head where a short, thick patch of red hair had cropped up. “We will wait until morning. Rest until then.”
Normally, Glorfindel might have argued with the stern directive he was given, but his body ached and he closed his eyes again, knowing he would need to conserve his energy. Sleep would not come, whether from the rustling and clinking of small objects as Erestor and Rog brewed coffee or the constant thought of not making it back to Gondolin alive. Since he could not sleep, he instead focused on their hushed conversation.
“Good spot you found,” Rog commended once they had both come back into the cave. The thunder and lightning from days earlier had finally reached the Sirion. It washed away the ashes and cleansed the blood from the ground. Erestor had barely managed to make enough coffee for both himself and Rog before the rain started. Now they sat with their warm drinks between their hands, words between them slightly strained. “This cave looks to be made of limestone. Very sturdy.”
“It was that or take to the trees, but I doubt Glorfindel would have managed the climb.”
“Tree would have been safer,” agreed Rog. Silence followed, and Rog pulled a flask out from some hidden pocket. He poured a little into his cup and almost held it out to Erestor. Instead, he shoved the stopper back in and hid it away again.
Erestor looked away and watched the rain outside.
Several minutes later, Rog said, “Understand, I would have offered, but... you are going to need your full constitution come morning.”
“I know.”
“Besides,” said Rog very quietly, “we might need the rest for him.”
Erestor sighed heavily.
Another pause followed until Erestor asked, “Do you know if they held the midsummer games this year?”
“They did, but it was unofficial. Idril is not awarding the trophies, but the winners will be presented with holly crowns and will be honored at a banquet. I think Salgant was aiming to compete as a boxer again.”
“I suppose he and Enerdhil will take most of the accolades for their houses,” commented Erestor.
Rog nodded. “Yes, that is true. But what does that matter? It is only proof of their cowardly and slovenly ways.”
In the back of the cave, Glorfindel said nothing and did not move even when he felt things scamper and creep over his feet and legs and arms. His eyes remained closed and his breathing was soft and even as he tried to relax. At some point, Glorfindel reasoned that they believed him to be asleep, for the pair began to talk as if he was not there.
“How much alcohol does he need to consume before he passes out?”
“I have no idea,” Erestor honestly answered. “He hates drinking.”
“The liquor I have is potent,” said Rog in reference to the flask he had with him. “Normally, a few sips will make someone calm and lethargic to the point that they do not fear or feel pain. I would understand if you wanted to have him drink all of it. If he is asleep, it will be easier for all of us.”
“We have no need to discuss that now.”
Rog scratched his head. “I hardly think we should talk about it tomorrow morning when he is awake. It will make it worse for him.”
“There will not be a need to talk about it, now or later or at all,” argued Erestor, voice rising in frustration. “You will see that tomorrow. We might be a little slow, but he will make it back fine.”
“By his own admission, he has no idea if he can walk or not.”
“I will carry him back if I have to,” said Erestor.
There was a short silence, and then Rog spoke. “You must face the harsh reality, Erestor. If he is unable to walk now after healing for almost a week, no amount of rest out here will help him and very little can be done for him in the city. We took the best healers with us, and only two are returning. The hit he took undoubtedly damaged him severely and there is only so much the body can recover from. You think what I am doing is cruel, but you give him false hope and cause him to suffer beyond what he should have to. This should have been done days ago. When the foal is so weak it cannot walk to its mother, do you carry him to her?”
“I would not, but he would.” Erestor sighed. “It seems a poor exchange, that one so intent upon caring for others would have us for guardians.”
No more was said, and soon they retired for the rest of the evening. Now the cold had returned, but with Rog blocking some of the winds it made the night more bearable. Erestor did not snuggle next to Glorfindel as he had the previous nights, choosing instead to sleep sitting up, with his back against the wall of the cave. He still kept himself between Rog and Glorfindel in an almost futile final attempt to guard his friend from his fate. It left Glorfindel alone near the back where it was quiet and warmer. Despite this he found he was restless, sleeping only in short bursts before waking to find his condition had not changed. He tried to stay calm, but as the minutes slipped into hours his impatience increased.
A sudden rustle outside gained his attention. Glorfindel lifted his head and his heart rate sped up. It could have been wind, but then the unmistakable sound of someone or something approaching made his ears twitch. Neither companion was close enough for him to nudge awake, so he dared speak softly as the noise became louder.
“Erestor! Erestor, did you hear that?” he hissed. Erestor’s nose twitched, but he did not wake.
“Rog, I think there is someone outside!” Glorfindel spoke as loud as he dared, and yet both ellyn remained in reverie, Erestor with his eyes closed while Rog stared blankly across the cave.
A bright, clear light flowed at once into the cave. It amazed Glorfindel when he saw it, for the light was purer than any he had ever seen before. What was doubly amazing was that the other two elves did not awaken. The noise outside had stopped, and as Glorfindel’s eyes adjusted he made out the shape of the neck and head of a deer peering into the opening of the cave. “I will need you to come out here, please,” he heard the deer say. “This opening is much too small for me, considering I wish not to break my antlers. Besides, I prefer the outdoors to stuffy places such as this one. I know it is a burden for you, but I assure you, I will be of great aid to you once you come out.”
“You speak Quendya,” remarked Glorfindel in awe, his tongue finding its way awkwardly around the words he had not spoken for so long. “My mother spoke Quendya; I have not heard it in many years, from elf or tree or beast. How could you know that I understand it? And how can you be speaking to me? Unless I am under some spell or dream.”
“This is no dream. Make haste, young master! Dawn will break swiftly and my power over your friends will not last long. There will be time enough on our journey for you to tell me about your past experiences, and for you to ask questions. I promise you this.”
It was difficult for Glorfindel to twist his way past Rog and Erestor, but finally he managed to be outside of the cave. He began to wonder if he was dreaming despite what the deer had said, considering the fact that he was in fact talking to a deer and climbing over a pair of warriors who should have sensed, if not felt, his struggle to leave. “Who are you?” he asked when he was finally out. Glorfindel managed to pull himself onto his feet using the side of the cave for balance.
“My lord sent me to aid you, young master. I saw what happened in the battle and when I told him he asked I come to help you. It was quite an odd request,” continued the stag, who was pure white from his antler tips to his hooves. Even his eyes were snowy white. “Usually he tells me not to interfere and his concern has only been for the young prince.”
“The prince?”
“Climb upon my back and I will tell you as we travel.”
Glorfindel pinched his arm, and drew back abruptly when it stung. “What about my gear? I need my bow and shield, which I cannot carry.”
“They will bring them for you.” The deer flicked his tail. “We have very little time.”
“I should at least bring rations or some water.” Glorfindel took a step toward the opening of the cave, but when he saw Rog shift and stretch he changed his mind. “I need you to move a little closer, if you would. I am yet weak from my wounds.”
The stag moved nearer, and Glorfindel found the impressive animal was very close to the size of a large pony. “Hold tight around my neck. We shall need to go swifter than I intended until we are out of sight; then I promise a smoother ride. Are you balanced? Hang on, young master!”
