Erestor and Aranel stayed the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Dinner was brought to them without request made for it, and afterwards, they sat together in one of the parlors upon Salgant’s insistence they be more social with the household. No alcohol was served, only warm chocolate and licorice drinks. Glorfindel declined both and settled on a settee; the others took drinks with them to various chairs in the room. Tauniel sat near to Glorfindel, while Aranel and Erestor found two unoccupied chairs nearby. It put Faelion and Salgant between the couples.
There were other members of the House of the Harp around; mostly recognized as actors and actresses often cast in Duilin’s plays. One near to them was sitting and working on her stitching while she chattered away to a pair of ellon who sat on a couch, snuggled together. “Did you know she said that Maeglin has been given the House of the Mole by Turgon? It makes sense really. He does do a lot of mining, but it is going to seems so strange going over there and not seeing Enerdhil. Just the other day, I passed the house, and I saw two of his maids in the garden laughing about something. You would certainly not have seen that last month – certainly not!”
“Of course not,” agreed the taller of the pair she was speaking to. “I am old enough to remember when he used to thrash his servants in the front yard. That post staked in front of the house? He used to tied them to it and beat their backs raw in public view. Turgon put a stop to it, but I doubt it stopped within the house.”
The other ellon shook his head. “Turgon puts an end to things like that, and continues to persecute people like us.”
The conversation piqued Glorfindel’s interest and he lifted himself up slightly and excused the interruption before asking, “What do you mean, continues to? What has happened.”
“Have you not heard? The lifted bans were imposed once more,” came the answer.
“Oh. I see.” Glorfindel’s shoulders slumped and he frowned. The cautious advice given to him by many proved the right path.
“I told you, it would not be long before things went back to the way they were. Not back a week and already Turgon has decreed everything his brother allowed to be banned in Gondolin once more.” Salgant sagely shook his head. “It is a good thing you stayed hidden,” he said to the pair on the couch. Glorfindel nodded in agreement, not only in the case of the pair he did not know, but the for his own case.
“How long do you think Enerdhil will be kept in prison?” Aranel looked to Erestor for an answer, but Erestor only shook his head. “You do not think that Turgon will actually have him executed, do you?”
“Why not?” asked Erestor. “He hanged four other elves this morning for the same offense.”
Unease settled in the room and Duilin, seated among those Glorfindel was not familiar with, caught Salgant’s attention. “No one we know, I should hope.”
“They were from Enerdhil’s house. He did it before the council meeting,” said Salgant grimly. “He left the bodies to hang in the courtyard – let us not speak of this further,” he announced, and no more was said in the parlor, but the mood had darkened.
When Glorfindel returned to the guest suite that night, his entourage following, he ushered them all inside and closed the door behind him. In a very serious tone he spoke to Erestor. “This is very troublesome that Turgon has returned to his old ways so quickly, and so violently.” He paused to consider carefully what he wanted to ask. “If Gildor were to return, do you think he would...?”
“The King would never dare kill his cousin’s son,” Erestor reminded Glorfindel. “The last thing he would want is for his family to attack him. As far as I am aware, Artanis and Orodreth still remain. Neither would stand for such a thing. Turgon might be High King now, but he is well aware that he is only King while the people allow it.”
Glorfindel nodded, hoping Erestor was right. He found a part of him still worried about Gildor, still cared about him. Love, he was beginning to realized, did not need to be focused solely upon one person. “Thank you for coming. It was good to see both of you.” He looked down at Aranel’s belly after they hugged in parting and said, “It was very nice to meet you, too.”
Aranel smiled fondly, but Glorfindel noticed a passing look of concern on Erestor’s face. It was not the time to question it, not in their present company, and not while sleep sounded so wonderful. The door was closed as the couple left and Glorfindel almost immediately retired to the bedchamber.
---
Another week was spent in the care of the healer while resting in Salgant’s house. Many visits were paid by Erestor and Aranel, and by Faelion, whose playfulness ceased at the entrance of one or both members of the couple, and increased when aided by Tauniel’s banter. Glorfindel appreciated the attention, but his impatience to leave and see his horses, sleep in his own bed, and of all things, sit in council, was quite evident. Therefore, despite the exemplary care he received while in Salgant’s home, it was a happy day when the healer came and announced he would probably be returning home that afternoon.
“Do not be a stranger, Glorfindel. I insist you join us for lunch at least once a week from now on,” said Salgant as the healer made the final check on her patient. Gone was the limp and gone was the cane, but the scars remained as a constant reminder of the battles. His wounds had closed, though, and the worst of it according to the healer was over. “Bring your wife if you like. Erestor and Aranel are welcome as well.” Salgant’s concession earned him a pat on the shoulder from Duilin.
Glorfindel smiled. “Beware, Salgant, we will take you up on that, and you shall never be rid of me.”
“I rather think that is what he is hoping for,” said Duilin, smiling playfully behind the back of the healer as she gave her consent for Glorfindel to go home.
---
At home, things were different than they had been. Glorfindel noticed it immediately upon entering the bedroom he had been sharing with Erestor. All of Erestor’s things – the books on the nightstand, his dirty laundry which was often strewn on the floor, his pile of boots and shoes in the corner – were gone. In their places, a more organized arrangement of items, and all of them belonging to Tauniel. “I did not want to say anything while you were recovering,” explained Aranel, “but we thought this would be for the best. When the baby is born, it would have been an interesting thing to try to explain why nana and ada live in different rooms.”
Glorfindel agreed, though it was entirely too strange to watch Tauniel enter past him and deposit a few items on the bed to sort out. He left the room and wandered to the balcony. The climb up the tower had left him winded, and fresh air seemed the next best thing to sleep. Erestor was on the balcony already, sipping from a glass of undeterminable liquid. He smiled to Glorfindel as he sat down and lifted his glass. “Would you like one?”
“No, the healer told me not to drink any alcohol for a while,” declined Glorfindel.
“It is just juice,” Erestor admitted. “You might notice most of the bottles are missing inside. I am swearing off alcohol, at least for a while, until the baby is grown up a little.” He grumbled and added, “That is what got me here in the first place.”
“Beg your pardon; I do not follow.”
Erestor set the glass down on the floor of the balcony and rested his head back on his arms. “I was drinking that night. You and I both know where that leads. When I woke up, Aranel was in bed with me, naked, pregnant, and I recall none of it.”
“Oh.” Glorfindel tried to lighten the mood a little and nudged Erestor before saying, “You must at least remember some of it.”
“No. Nothing. No idea how much I drank, when I finally left, how I got back, or any of the rest. So... no more drinking for a while. Do not misunderstand – I am indeed very happy to know that in less than a year’s time, I will be a father,” said Erestor fondly. “I just expected it to happen a little differently.”
Glorfindel gave a slight nod of approval. Aranel appeared moments later to collect her husband, and Tauniel came looking for Glorfindel shortly thereafter. The warrior found himself sore from the walk up the steps, and took the aid given to him graciously. Dressing and undressing were still going to be a bit of a burden, and it was good to know Tauniel was there for him.
Glorfindel and Tauniel both got into the bed. They were very careful about it, taking no more room than they needed and leaving a wide space between them. For a while, both stared up at the ceiling. “The... bed is nice,” offered Tauniel, breaking the uneasy silence.
“Uh... sure.”
Tauniel sat up and fluffed her pillow again, and then settled back down. “Did you want this side of the bed?”
“No, I have been using this side. Unless you want this side?”
“Oh, no. I am fine.” An awkward silence followed. “It is going to be different you know, once Aranel has the baby. I suppose we are going to have to turn one of the rooms into a nursery. I hope it is not my sewing room,” she said.
Glorfindel considered this. “Maybe I can move my desk into the sitting room,” he offered. “Of course, that means the nursery would be the room furthest away from their bedroom.”
“Perhaps she will want to keep the cradle in their room. A temporary solution, but it would give us time to figure out something else.” Again the room was silent for a while, and then as Glorfindel felt himself dozing off, Tauniel asked, “Have you ever thought of being a father? Do you want children, I mean?”
“Well... I... I suppose I never thought it was a possibility, all things considered.” Glorfindel stretched his arms up over his head to keep himself awake. The words she had spoken when they were still in Salgant’s house had lingered, but the idea had not been repeated until now. He thought about it for a few minutes. “No, I never really considered having children. I guess I never have had a desire to have any.”
“You never wanted to have children? Never at all?” Tauniel nodded. “Neither did I. Not to begin with. Now I see Aranel and how happy she is, and how happy Erestor is, and I just wonder...” Tauniel touched her hands against her flat tummy. “Would I be ugly if I were pregnant?”
Semi-panicked, Glorfindel squeezed his eyes closed and said, “You could never be ugly, but you would be awfully fat.”
Instead of cursing at him or thumping a pillow against his head, Tauniel laughed. “True. Very fat, with a big fat belly. But think of that darling little baby we could have.”
“And there is the trouble with what you are suggesting,” pointed out Glorfindel quickly, surprised he had failed in getting the subject dropped. “It would require you and I to... I just do not want to think about it,” he said quickly with a shudder. “Kissing and touching is one thing, but... you have... that thing, and I... really prefer the other thing...”
“It would not be that bad,” Tauniel assured him. She turned over onto her stomach and draped her right arm and leg over Glorfindel. In a low, seductive voice she said, “I would even wear that black wig I found and let you call me Erestor while you did it.” She smiled as she felt a slight twitch. “Ohh, you like that idea?”
“No,” he lied.
“I could find some dark robes... I could even smuggle some of his clothing into here and wear that...” Tauniel was rubbing her fingers against Glorfindel’s chest, making nonsense patterns, causing the blond to breathe erratically. “Maybe, once we finished the regular way, I could get on my hands and knees and let you do what you want to do with him, too.”
With a rueful smile, Glorfindel shook his head and gently tried to move her leg off of his. “Sorry, darling, but I doubt that would help change my opinion.”
“Oh.” Tauniel frowned. “You have your eye on someone else now? Faelion, perhaps? I bet he would even willingly lend me anything I wanted.”
“No, no, I still...” Glorfindel lowered his voice considerably. “I still want to be with Erestor,” he whispered. “But there is no chance of that now.”
“I could give you the next best thing,” offered Tauniel.
“You do not understand.” Glorfindel sighed. “I would not want to take him. I would want him to take me.” It was odd telling these things to Tauniel, but on the other hand, it was nice to have someone Glorfindel was so comfortable talking to about such matters. If he could not tell such things to his wife, who could he tell?
A wide grin spread across Tauniel’s face. “I knew you were more the submissive type, but I did not know how. I like that idea,” she said, fingers moving over his flesh, but she changed the angle and used her nails now instead of the soft pads. Glorfindel hissed but did not move to stop her. Instead, he closed his eyes as she bent down and growled in his ear. “I can just see you, crawling across the floor to him, raising your rear in the air, and spreading your legs for him, wetting your own entrance with your fingers and own saliva. You think about doing that, Glorfindel. When you stretch and bow your spine, reaching your arms up over your head, you probably imagine him holding your wrists together, keeping them down against the bed. It must have been delightful for you to have slept beside him for all these years.”
Glorfindel groaned. It was somewhat true, that on occasion when he stretched, his imagination took over for a few moments and teased him with false thoughts. “You never told me you could read minds.”
Tauniel slid her hands forward, up Glorfindel’s arms, and took hold of his wrists, pressing them down hard against the pillows. He panted beneath her and felt himself harden as he closed his eyes and imagined what she was telling him.
“I will make a little deal with you,” she purred, rubbing against him.
“Hmm? Mmm…” He gasped as she ground her knee gently at the base of his erection. She pressed harder and he let out a soft wail. “What? What do you want?”
“An even exchange, darling. You give me a baby, and I will give you what you want.”
“What do I want?”
“Oh, I know what you want. You obviously know what you want.” Tauniel bent down and kissed Glorfindel’s neck. “Maybe I cannot give you exactly what you want, but I can offer to do my best.”
Glorfindel broke free from her grasp and reached out to take hold of her shoulders. He lifted her away enough to pause her seduction. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
Tauniel looked at first as if she were going to explain, but then shook her head. “Let me show you. Tomorrow night—wait, no, the night after. I will need a few days to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“You will know, soon enough.”
