Glorfindel awoke to find Salgant sitting where Duilin had been. “Did I miss the entire morning?”
“Not only that, but the afternoon as well.” Salgant took a moment to finish the passage he was reading before he marked it with a ribbon and set the book aside. “Erestor explained the gathering this evening?”
“Aye, he did, somewhat,” confirmed Glorfindel.
“Mirdirin will be here sometime before dinner to go over the list for your house with you. He was here this morning and consulted with Duilin, so it should be accurate for the most part. As for getting you to the tower, Erestor plans to take care of that.”
“I can walk,” said Glorfindel. “I really can.”
“Just because you can does not mean you should, but I am sure he does not plan to carry you to the hall in his arms.” Salgant chuckled as Glorfindel scowled and blushed. “Then again, maybe he will? But then, I would not suggest it, not after what Enerdhil did.”
“What did he do exactly? Everyone says he did something, but I have yet to discover what.”
Salgant leaned back in the chair and rested his elbows on the arms. His fingers pressed against each other, so he sat quite symmetrically. “We were given directive from the king before he left that we were to hold the summer games even with him gone, even with the best athletes away in battle. It was supposed to raise morale.”
“Uh oh.”
“I have not reached the ‘uh oh’ yet,” said Salgant.
“I know,” replied Glorfindel. “The ‘supposed to’ gave away that there was going to be an ‘uh oh’.”
“It was less of an ‘uh oh’ and more of an ‘oh, fuck’. Actually...” Salgant furrowed his brow. “Fuck does not work; fucking implies fornication sanctioned by the king.”
Glorfindel shifted the pillows in order to sit up a little more. “This was a big ‘uh oh’, then.”
“This was two competitors who, after the match, decided to throw down in front of the audience. It was all Enerdhil’s idea – he told them that the winner should take the loser. Apparently, the pair was secretly lovers or something. Not that it matters. It should not have been done, and it was, and there were too many witnesses for it to go unpunished.” Salgant shook his head. “Just when we look to be moving forward, some asshole like Enerdhil comes along and backs us up again.”
“How many people were there?” asked Glorfindel.
“The stadium was full. It was a good distraction for everyone to come and watch the games. No one expected Enerdhil to... why would anyone expect that?” Salgant picked up the bell and rang it. Moments later, Neralien was at the door. “Draw a bath for Lord Glorfindel, and then go to the tower and fetch clothing for him from his apartment.” The maid curtseyed and hurried out to complete her tasks. “When she returns I will have her fix something light for you to eat.”
“Thank you.” Glorfindel coughed and hissed as he felt his tighten painfully on his left side. “Do you know anything about the private trial Turgon is going to be holding?”
“I know I was summoned to be there; I know he is still collecting evidence against Enerdhil. It will be a relief to have Maeglin in council rather than Enerdhil.” Salgant rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. “You had an altercation with him some time ago.”
“With Maeglin?” Glorfindel shook his head. “Not really.”
“No, not Maeglin. There was something that happened between you and Enerdhil, regarding one of his servants.”
“Oh, that. I was hoping people had forgotten about that by now,” Glorfindel admitted before explaining the incident to Salgant. The harper listened with extreme interest, his eyes lighting up as the story reached the conclusion.
When Glorfindel finished, Salgant slapped the arm of his chair gleefully. “That will really help the case. We need to have you testify.”
“In my current state?”
“You will gain the sympathy of the jury -- a recently returned hero of the war, when Enerdhil never wanted to go in the first place.”
Glorfindel decided not to bring up the fact that Salgant had not gone to war either. “I assume there will be a chance for the defense to dispute the claims? What is to stop him from bringing up my personal life?”
“Why would he know about any of that?” questioned Salgant. “You never told him, did you?”
Uneasily, Glorfindel twisted the sheet in his hands. “He was with Gildor.”
“Yes,” acknowledged Salgant.
“So was I.”
“Fuck!” Salgant’s pudgy hand hit the chair again, fisted now. “Are you sure Gildor would have said something?”
“That is the point; I have no idea what he might have said.”
Salgant was up, pacing the room. “Did he ever talk about his other relationships when he was with you?”
“Not by name,” said Glorfindel. “But he would say things; not knowing what he might have said to Enerdhil, I worry he might have made mention of something that could lead to Enerdhil putting two and two together. What if he mentioned that Enerdhil was not the first lord he had lain with and then said something about my hair color or, who knows, my horse or something?”
“Let me see what I can find out.” Salgant looked to the door, where Neralien was standing. “How long have you been there?” he snapped at her.
“Only a few moments.”
“Long enough to hear what we were talking about?”
“I have readied a bath,” she said in her defense. “Lady Tauniel has arrived and she brought clothing with her for Lord Glorfindel. I did not know if I should permit her to enter or not.” She took a step back as Salgant stood up. “Is there more I might aid with?”
Salgant chased her from the room, rumblings of his displeasure chasing her out of the suite entirely. There was some hushed conversation at the door, and then Glorfindel heard Salgant leaving with the protesting young maid. Shortly thereafter, Tauniel peeked into the room and rapped her knuckles on the doorway. “May I come in?”
“Of course!” Glorfindel struggled to sit up and make himself as presentable as possible. Tauniel walked across the room and set down a bundle on a chair, and then opened the heavy inner curtains, leaving the thinner, lacey ones across for privacy sake. “How have you been?”
Tauniel tried to smile. “Fine.”
Glorfindel waited until she sat down on the edge of the bed and then took hold of her hand. “I know when you are lying to me, darling.”
With uncertainty, Tauniel bowed her head. “I was going to wait until you were well to tell you, but you need to know. My father went with Ecthelion’s troops; he took the place of a younger soldier, one of his apprentices. Father made it through the battle, but he was killed when you were ambushed.” Tauniel blinked away tears and added, “Mother... well, you know how that goes... she left us last night.”
“You should have told me.” Glorfindel sat up and gently pulled Tauniel into his arms without resistance. “Honey, I am so sorry. I know how close you were to them. I had no idea he was there.”
“Neither did I. I never had the chance to say farewell to him. Mother told me the afternoon that everyone left. He just wanted to do whatever he could to help.” Tauniel sighed and sat up. “At least I was here for her. Ecthelion came to see her yesterday and he stayed with us until...”
Glorfindel was rubbing her back comfortingly and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of his hand. “Do you want me to come home?”
“You need to stay here and rest and recover,” said Tauniel.
“I can do that in my own bed,” he assured her. “Is Aranel taking care of you?” he asked quietly. It was odd not to have them both show up; they were so often inseparable.
“As much as she can. Her father has needed her; you know her mother hates playing hostess. I have seen her very little since everyone began to return.” Tauniel waved her hand noncommittally and ran it through her hair. “So much has happened so fast. Father, mother, you... I really was worried about you. I am glad you returned.”
Again, Glorfindel pulled his wife into an embrace. “I know we have a strange sort of relationship, but I did miss you.”
“I missed you, too.”
They clung to one another until a deep cough from Glorfindel broke them apart. “Sorry,” he apologized before another coughing spell hit him.
“Is there anything I can get for you to help ease that?” asked Tauniel.
Glorfindel shook his head. “Just part of the healing process,” he lied, not knowing whether or not he should inquire with a healer about the irritating cough. “Maybe you could help me into the bathing chamber? I need to bathe and dress for the event tonight.”
Tauniel nodded and stood up. As she pushed the chair Salgant had been sitting on out of the way, Glorfindel rolled back the sheets and carefully moved his legs over to the side of the bed. “Has Aranel been staying at her parents’ house lately?”
“For the most part,” said Tauniel as she helped Glorfindel walk from the bed to the bath. “I think Erestor has been staying there, too.”
“Really? So they have left you alone in the apartment?” Glorfindel surveyed the room before stepping into the long basin, which was shallowly filled and had a low stool at one end which he sat down upon. The water did not even reach his knees, but he was sure it was not wise to be submerged with the bandages still wrapped around him. “You might need to help me a little more than I anticipated.”
“Do not worry about it. Just sit and relax if you can.” Tauniel rolled up the sleeves of her gown and pinned them back to keep them out of the way. “I have not been in the apartment for some time; the last few weeks I have spent with my mother. I suppose I shall have to go back tonight.”
“You could stay here with me if you wanted to,” offered Glorfindel. “I hate to think of you spending the night alone up there.”
Tauniel gently used a wet cloth and a soapy one alternately across Glorfindel’s body, carefully avoiding the blood stained linens. “I think I would be fine, but I guess I would enjoy the company.”
“So would I,” admitted Glorfindel. “I will warn you now, I tend to sleep most of the time, but I will do my best to be sociable.”
There was a knock on the door, and Tauniel furrowed her brow in confusion. “The maid, perhaps? I doubt Salgant would knock.”
“He mentioned he would have her bring some food,” recalled Glorfindel as Tauniel stood up and hurried out of the chamber as another knock sounded. He listened to the voices as the door was opened; familiar but unable to be placed. While he waited, he used the time to retrieve the soapy cloth and wash his feet. He hated to be idle, and it seemed terribly impolite to ask Tauniel to do it, even if she was his wife.
“Sweetheart?” Tauniel looked around the doorway just as she had earlier. “The healer is here to see you; she wants to come in and change your bandages. I told her you were not decent at the moment, but she insisted she has already seen anything and everything and will not be offended.”
“Should I finish bathing first?”
“She said she could do it right in here.” Tauniel bit her lip and added, “You have a visitor, too, but I told him that he had to wait in the sitting room until after the healer had gone.”
“Oh? Who, Erestor?” guessed Glorfindel.
Tauniel shook her head. “Salgant’s little nephew, Faelion.”
“Little?” debated the familiar voice from the other room. “I will have you know, I stand taller than my uncle these days!”
“And I recall the days when you only came up to my knees,” responded Tauniel. “Those days were not so long ago!”
The healer, who likely had many other places to be at the moment, excused her way into the washroom as Tauniel and Faelion continued their debate in the sitting room. Glorfindel did his best to be unobtrusive as he was unwrapped and rewrapped and poked a few times. His cough interrupted the clinical silence of the session, and the healer prodded a few more coughs from him with concern. “I do not like that cough,” she finally said as she put away the instruments she used in the bag she carried in.
“Neither do I,” said Glorfindel once he had caught his breath.
“If it persists more than a few days, I may need to drain the fluid.”
“That... that sounds unpleasant,” decided Glorfindel.
The healer patted his shoulder. “I would give you a sedative first.”
“Uh, thanks,” he said, but he hardly meant it. As the healer headed for the door, he called her back. “You forgot your walking stick,” he said, pointing to a cane that she had brought in with her.
“No, that is yours. Use it until you get better.”
Glorfindel gave it an unhappy look. He had to squint to get a good look at just how ugly it was. “Great. Thanks.” The healer had already gone, but he still glared at the offensive item.
“Someone looks a bit dismayed.”
The friendly, familiar voice turned Glorfindel’s attention away from the dreaded cane and to the doorway, where Faelion stood. “Good to see you,” said Glorfindel.
“Good to see you? Is that all I get?” Faelion boldly crossed the room and knelt down beside the tub. “I suppose you forgot all about me when you went off to war,” he said with a playful sigh. “Well, welcome home, darling.” Without giving Glorfindel a chance to respond, Faelion caught him in a kiss, and refused to end it quickly, nor did Glorfindel try to make him either. In fact, it was only Glorfindel’s persistent cough that ruined the moment. “You sound terrible,” said Faelion with concern.
“I know,” admitted Glorfindel as he hacked and rubbed his throat. “It should pass.”
“I should hope so,” said Faelion as Tauniel entered the room. “Lovemaking will be practically impossible if we have to stop so you can gasp for air. Hardly romantic, either.”
Glorfindel glanced over at Tauniel, but instead of seeing confusion he noted a slight smile on her face. “I guess you must know—“
“That the two of you are more than just good friends?” Tauniel knelt on the other side of the tub. “When Aranel and I were just about to our majority, we used to play nanny to that one,” she said, motioning at Faelion with her cloth. “Oh, the stories I can tell you.”
“Now, now, I can tell stories, too,” Faelion reminded her.
“Of course you can, but he already knows all about Aranel and I,” countered Tauniel.
Faelion skimmed the surface of the water with his fingers. “I am sure I can think of something.”
Tauniel wrung out each of the clothes and draped them over the edge of the tub. “There is a wooden chair in the other room. Can you bring it in here for me? I want to wash his hair, but I have to do it in the basin.”
“Right.” Faelion stood up, kissed Glorfindel quickly, and headed to the bedroom.
Meanwhile, Tauniel helped Glofindel to stand up and step out of the tub onto a towel she had spread onto the floor. Another towel was used to dry his skin, and a third was placed on the seat of the chair once it was in the room. “Whoever cut this did it on an angle,” said Tauniel.
“Yes, I know, that was Duilin. He meant well.” Glorfindel sat down on the chair and leaned his head back over the basin. “I am going with Erestor before the gathering tonight to have it fixed. I just hope they do not have to cut off too much more. My vanity and my occupation do not exactly go well together.”
“Aww, it looks cute,” said Tauniel as she ran her fingers through the short blond locks. “A little lopsided, but cute.”
Glorfindel grumbled at the compliment.
“She is telling the truth,” agreed Faelion. “Maybe cute is the wrong word. It suits you, though.”
Glorfindel mumbled, arguing against them, but it was lost as water was poured back over his head. He closed his eyes as Tauniel massaged his scalp, clusters of suds dropping off lazily. There was some conversation between Tauniel and Faelion, but Glorfindel missed most of it as he half-dozed in the chair.
“Hey, wake up,” was the next thing he heard. Glorfindel blinked his eyes open as Tauniel gently laughed and wrapped a towel around his shoulders. “You really must be tired.” Glorfindel yawned to solidify this claim. “Erestor just got here. He and Faelion are in the other room; I told them I would bring you out once you were dressed.”
Another yawn escaped, but Glorfindel managed to nod.
“I brought brown pants and boots, and the tunic is the green one with the gold embroidery. There are two shirts; a brown one and a beige one. The brown probably looks better, but the beige one is looser and I did not know how comfortable the brown one would be with the bandages.” Tauniel had hung everything over the top of the door, and now returned and picked up a comb from the counter. “I am so jealous,” she added after she toweled off his hair. “You might not like it this short, but at least you have that option. Us girls would never be able to do something like this.”
“Why not?” asked Glorfindel.
“Because. Not proper for a lady to look like a soldier, I guess.” Tauniel easily untangled Glorfindel’s curls and set the comb aside. “Since you are going to have to walk through the market, do you want me to pull your hair back? Then the variations in length will not be so visible.”
“Is it long enough to do that?” asked Glorfindel hopefully. The fact that the ends were constantly brushing his shoulders was more than annoying him.
“I think so.” Tauniel found a short length of brown ribbon in a drawer and set to work. It did not take very long to tame the short mane. “There you go. Now we need to get you dressed.”
As Tauniel stepped toward the door, Glorfindel reached out and caught her wrist. He pulled her back and stood up as he did so. “Thank you,” he said, and then, unexpectedly for both of them, he tilted his head and kissed her. It was more than the friendly smooches on the cheek they had often exchanged; in fact, neither could remember this sort of thing happening since the wedding. “I just want you to know I really appreciate you being here for me,” he said quietly.
Tauniel nodded her head during a confused pause.
“Will you accompany me to the gathering this evening?” asked Glorfindel.
“I assumed I was going to,” replied Tauniel.
“But, do you want to?” Glorfindel turned his head to cough slightly. “I mean, I would like it if you came, but considering what you have been through I do not want you to think you have to come.”
In the other room, Faelion offered an apology to be passed along to Glorfindel. Since the city had yet not been officially turned back over to the king, and because of Enerdhil’s disgrace, the House of the Harp was still in charge of all guard duties. This meant Faelion was working doubles shifts, and at times, more than that. Once he had gone, Erestor decided to see what was taking so long, in if he could help.
He hardly expected the sight before him. Glorfindel, still nude with the exception of the bandages, held Tauniel in his arms. The pair was focused only on one another, ignorant of Erestor’s appearance in the doorway. It was a debate about whose bed to sleep in, from what Erestor could glean from the conversation. Glorfindel offering to make an attempt at climbing the tower, and Tauniel assuring him she would sleep well enough in the strange surroundings of the room in Salgant’s house. What was more, it was very sweet and serious, and Erestor stepped back around the corner when the pair embraced.
Erestor went back into the sitting room and plopped down on the settee in a daze. Just when he thought things were starting to make sense, everything confused him again. Mingled laughter, a giggle and a chuckle, made him stare down the hallway, utterly baffled. It was well known that battle caused changes; no one returned the same as when they had left. In Erestor’s case, he had believed that his strange new feelings for Glorfindel were without a doubt the result of this phenomenon. He never would have guessed Glorfindel to have a reversal of feelings when he returned... but then, was that not what had happened to him, too?
Tauniel came into the sitting room and looked around. “Oh, where did little Faelion go?”
“He had patrol,” said Erestor as he stood up. His expression remained neutral – a smile would have been too telling, and a frown, too impolite. The frown was what he would have preferred at the moment.
“Oh. Well, Glorfindel will be right out. He insisted upon putting on his boots by himself,” she explained. A sudden crash came from the bathroom, which made both Tauniel and Erestor look down the hall in alarm. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” she called.
“I lied,” answered Glorfindel as something else fell with a thump. “I do need you, darling.”
“Coming,” she answered. “It should be just another minute,” she promised Erestor as she disappeared back into the bathing chamber.
Erestor nodded numbly and sat back down. A mirror positioned on one wall just barely cut Erestor out of the image, and reflected the emptiness of the room. For a long while Erestor stared at it while the pair in the other room finished getting Glorfindel ready.
Just another minute. Erestor reflected upon the phrase. Had he not gone down the hall and seen what he had with his own eyes, it would have been just another minute or so until he had made a fool of himself. His early arrival had not been merely to help Glorfindel get ready; it was to have the chance to say things he did not have quite clear in his mind yet. Now, however, it doubted those things would have the chance to be said.
Erestor looked away from the mirror and into the fireplace. The fire had undoubtedly been lit in order to warm the bath water, for it was small and lacked the large logs that would keep it burning very long. Already the flames were dying down, crouched together near the bottom.
The dark elf stood up and dug his hand into his pocket. A small book was produced; it was the one he had taken with him to battle. He flipped through it, shaking his head as he caught phrases now and then. The words were so raw, so real, and not the sort of thing he wanted anyone else to see now. He turned to the last few pages and tore out two of them; some things were just too hard to part with. The remainder of the book was tossed into the fireplace, where the flames pounced upon it before his mind could be changed. Into ash and smoke they vanished; a chapter closed, for now.
