“Have you ever seen a horse more magnificent than his?” asked Elrond of Glorfindel as Erestor rode onto the field to the cheering of many in the audience. Celebrian elbowed her husband gently from her spot on his other side and Elrond amended his comment to include, “Besides Asfaloth, of course.”
“Hmm? Oh... of course.” Glorfindel leaned forward on the rail of the high, shaded dais that served as the place for the family and others of importance to watch the activities on the sporting field. The banners fluttered in the light breeze, and the fringed overhang flapped gently against the poles of the canopy. Today’s event was a competition of horse handling skills and less of a race. Usually Erestor did well, but he excelled in racing, especially chariot races. This was a one horse, one rider competition that had over thirty contestants of varying degrees of experience pitted against one another.
Many of the events were tests of individual skill, but there was a joust, and that always had Glorfindel on edge as even with a ring joust there were times when something might go wrong. Out on the field, Erestor seemed rather relaxed as he waited for the rest of the riders to be announced and to line the field. Morir stood still as he was trained to, barely flinching when flies came near or when Erestor flicked them away with his crop.
“Care to make a wager?” asked Elladan of his younger brother. Elrohir shrugged. “I bet you three silvers that Erestor wins the rings.”
“You do not have three silvers,” said Elrohir, who was more occupied with watching the prettily dressed maidens who would keep the scores at the far end of the field for those in the audience to see.
Elladan turned around and looked at his father. “Ada, may I borrow three silver pieces?”
“Ask your mother,” Elrond answered promptly.
“Nana-“ began Elladan.
Stilling her fan for a moment, Celebrian shook her head. “Absolutely not. I will not have you gambling with your brother, or anyone else for that matter. Besides, you say ‘borrow’ when you mean ‘have’.” She continued in vain to try to keep herself cool in the heat.
With a huff, Elladan went back to watching those on the field.
“Elladan.”
The elder twin looked over upon hearing his name, and caught the coin that had been flipped through the air at him. “Whoa, a gold piece!” he exclaimed, turning it over in his hand. Elladan smirked at his brother, and Elrohir pouted a little.
From his spot leaning against the railing, Glorfindel laughed and took another from his pocket. “Catch, Elrohir.” When each of the twins had in their hands a gleaming piece of gold, Glorfindel said, “Now, what I would do is stop your silly talk of betting and invest your money in wiser pursuits. Perhaps at one of the vendors on the grounds or to treat one of those lovely ladies the two of your have had your eyes on all morning,” suggested the blond elf.
“Thank you, Uncle Fin!” Elladan raced behind his parents to the stairs that would take him back to the general grounds of the event.
Elrohir walked to his parents and asked, “May El and I be excused until the race begins?” Elrond nodded unemotionally, and Elrohir smiled, then turned and said, “Thanks, Uncle Fin!” before following after his brother.
“Glorfindel, you really need not spoil them like that,” said Celebrian.
“You are only young once,” he replied. “They will be responsible adults sooner than you wish it; let them enjoy this time they have now.”
Looking back to the field, Glorfindel noticed that the majority of the riders were assembled. This was obviously realized by Erestor as well, for the dark ellon was stretching his arms above his head and rolling the kinks from his neck. Glorfindel disliked seeing Erestor in this manner as much as he enjoyed it. On one hand, he took great pride in the fact that he had been the one to teach the elf so many long years ago how to ride a horse. On the other, beyond those happy days in Gondolin, the most vivid memories that Glorfindel had of Erestor on a horse involved the fall of their beloved city and the great war that had only just ended not more than a few hundred years earlier.
Erestor’s posture was one that reminded Glorfindel of someone going into battle. He was alert, but not too stiff. The leather of his gear had been painstakingly polished to a shine, and the metal gleaned in the sunlight. Silver, black, and brilliant blue. Instead of his long hair partially loose down his back to his knees, the counselor’s coal-colored locks were tightly braided into thick, short plaits that were bound together at the base of his neck and barely reached the middle of his back. Morir and Erestor looked fearsome together, each of them with their own stern look, each of them dark and mysterious. Erestor bent his head to whisper to the horse, and Morir gave a snort of determination.
Tightening his gloves and checking the lacings of his boots, Erestor took a slow breath in, held it, and let it slowly out. Erestor closed his eyes as the master of the event spoke the rules that he could likely recite in his sleep and folded his hands together before him. Bowing his head, his lips moved as he quietly spoke a prayer unheard by anyone, and unseen by most.
At the balcony overlooking the competition, Glorfindel saw it. His gaze staggered to the others for a moment, but fell back upon Erestor. In that small, simple act of supplication, Glorfindel saw courage greater than that of the other participants combined. He saw some of the others, others on their horses and squires and pages as well, pointing and snickering as Erestor paid them no mind and continued his praying.
Before he had even realized what it was that he was doing, Glorfindel found his fingers interlaced with each other as he leaned on the railing with his elbows. His words were sincere, and he cared not who was watching or listening. “Dear Eru, please bless Erestor and keep him safe today during this competition. Namar.”
“Namar.” Glorfindel turned upon hearing Elrond’s voice behind him. He gave the elf-lord a warm smile before turning his attention to the field below. The first challenge was alphabetically arranged; a jumping competition. Erestor and Morir would go third.
- - -
“Good thing you decided not to wager against your brother,” remarked Celebrian to her middle child as Erestor took the blue ribbon for the rings. The counselor now had two ribbons, one blue and one red, hanging from Morir’s bridle and a smug, high-stepping horse. It also meant that he had higher points than most of the other competitors, and would be facing an equally strong opponent in the first round of the joust. Turning to her cousin, who sat next to her now, she said, “Fin, stop biting your nails.”
“He has never been this close before.” Glorfindel shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just hope Morir does not get too cocky.”
“Or Erestor for that matter,” said Elrond. Everyone in the booth waited quietly as Erestor took hold of his lance and shield at the side he was assigned to. The point of this version of the sport was not to even make contact with the other rider – points would be lost for that. Those participating were to ride to the center where a ring was dangling from a hook hanging from a wire. Whoever’s lance passed through and gained the ring first took the point; best of three won the match. This perhaps made the event less exciting than when the target was the other rider, but infinitely more safe and a greater test of the strength and speed of the horses.
Elladan, who had returned with bags of fresh roasted nuts and other candies, scanned the field. “No swords for the jousters?” he complained. “What if there is a scuffle?”
“There will be no scuffling,” said Elrohir. “This is the civilized version.”
“I know, but still.” Elladan offered some of the treats he had brought back to his parents before joining his twin at the rail. “Remember that time when it was a joust for real, back when Erestor had that mean, tan horse that used to nip at our heals? I thought the horse was going to bite Erestor’s squire when he came out to lead him back. He really wanted to keep in it!”
“She,” corrected Glorfindel. “The butterscotch-colored mare he had sixty years ago, the one who would not share a stall with any other horses. That was a she.”
“Do you remember that match, though?” Elladan was so excited that he knocked some of his roasted almonds out of the paper funnel they were held in. “The first thing I had thought was, no possible way Erestor can win this one. But then, he drew his sword like the other knight and swung it ‘round over his head, which I think was for show but impressed me! And then-“
“Elladan, we were all here for that,” his father reminded him.
“Right,” said Elladan with a sigh as he went back to watching the competition. A moment later, he turned back around and animatedly continued. “Then, he waits for the other one to charge. Remember how he lost his shield after the first few blows? I thought, no way now! And then- bam!- he strikes the other elf right across his shield, knocks him over. The knight throws the shield off since it was useless then, and he and Erestor just started attacking each other, exchanging blows, swords clashing together!”
“Are you here to watch this match or not?” interrupted Elrond.
Heaving a sigh, Elladan muttered to himself and looked back out to the field. “I do wish he would fight real jousts again. Or even compete in the sword fighting- whenever someone says ‘oh, Erestor, what a bookworm’, I tell them, ‘oh, no, not Erestor!’ He makes it look like the sword is just an extension of his body, and seeing him ride into a joust atop a horse with his lance held up-“ Elladan noticed the warning look that his father was giving to him, and closed his mouth. “I think I should just watch the competition,” he mumbled.
“Wise choice,” confirmed Elrond, shaking his head once his sons were both not facing him.
As Erestor sat motionless with his right hand holding the lance straight up and his left arm holding the shield, Glorfindel dug his hands further into his pockets. A shrill whistle sounded and both Erestor and the rider opposite him charged the field upon their mounts at full speed.
After a bad start at missing the first ring, Erestor captured the second two and moved into the next round. It took some time to make it through the other fifteen pairs, and then to continue to whittle down the group with subsequent rounds. Things were looking fairly well for Erestor coming into the quarterfinals.
“Even if he does not win this one, if he can at least make second or third, or if that one on the white and grey does not place in first, Erestor will take a place in the competition overall,” Celebrian said as the four remaining competitors joined one of the judges off the field to flip a coin to determine pairings for the next two jousts, which consisted of the riders spearing consecutively smaller and smaller rings instead of riding head to head for one. “It certainly seems he deserves it after all this time.”
“He has placed before,” Elrond informed his wife. “You were not here at those times, but he has even taken top place in many races and competitions with his horses.”
“But, in this exact series of events?” questioned Celebrian.
Elrond considered this for a moment and finally shook his head. “Not with this competition – you are right. My mistake,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.
“They should use swords for this part,” complained Elladan as he munched on his snacks.
As the rings became smaller and smaller, Glorfindel found himself watching less and less, until all he did was cover his eyes, opening them only when he heard the gleeful shouts from the twins and Celebrian when Erestor would manage to spear his rings. On the sixth pass, Erestor victorious displayed the small metal ring that glimmered on the end of his lance while his opponent sadly tossed his lance to his page as he rode off of the field.
The other two participants still in the running had yet to compete, and they remounted now as Erestor coaxed Morir to the sideline and handed his lance to his waiting squire. Before the field was set for the next set of jousts, a group of horses that had been tethered to their posts at the edge of the area began to pull on their reigns and fight the leather straps that kept them there. A few managed to break free immediately, running wild, while the others bucked and whinnied, stomping on the ground.
The only rider immediately in the area of the scared creatures was Erestor, who turned Morir to move with those racing away from the field. Pushing his mount to keep up with the horses, Erestor managed to herd them back around to the stables before leaving the fearful horses in the care of the stable hands while he rode back to the epicenter of the problem.
Concentrating more on getting back to the horses that were still tied to their posts to see if they were alright than with what had scared them in the first place, Erestor did not think to watch his path for anything out of the ordinary. Within a hundred feet of the spooked horses, the hooded head of a snake shot up from the grass. Morir panicked, rising up on his back legs suddenly.
Finding himself slipping from the horse, Erestor tried to make it off and onto his feet. Instead of leaping with grace, his foot tangled in the stirrup and he hit the ground on his left side as Morir’s feet came down in the grass. Ignoring the pain and the sound of the broken bone in his left arm, Erestor reached up and yanked off his boot, leaving it in the stirrup. “Noro lim, Morir!” he shouted at the horse as the snake hissed and swayed back and forth. “Kel! Kel! Kel!” he yelled, not wanting to move to push the horse for fear the cobra would strike.
- - -
“Can you see anything?” Glorfindel was squinting as he and Elrond stood on the high platform trying to determine what was going on. “He sat up; do you think he is alright?”
“Right now, yes, probably broke his arm the way he is—oh, sweet Elbereth...” Elrond’s eyes widened. “Fin, where is your bow?”
- - -
“Get out of here, Morir!” Erestor was shaking a little now, but he could not tell if it was from the fear of being so close to this deadly creature, or if it was because of the pain in his arm and his side. “Morir, go to the stables! Go, Morir!”
Erestor had been edging slowly forward, inch by inch, making his way in between the horse and the snake. As the cobra arched back and rose up once again, Erestor decided not to wait any longer. His hope was to surprise it by grabbing its hood and flinging it away. Unfortunately, he had not accounted for the fact he was so weak from his fall and tired from the day of racing. When he grabbed hold of the snake, she jerked out of his grasp. Finding a new target now, she lunged forward and embedded her fangs into his shoulder, venom coursing into the wound.
- - -
“Shoot it now, Glorfindel!” instructed Elrond, pointing at the snake in the grass.
The warrior closed one eye and made sure he had an exact mark on his target. He pulled back the bowstring until the wood quivered and ached.
“Now!” commanded Elrond.
- - -
‘Stop. Put your bow down.’ Erestor caught a glimpse of what was happening just as the arrow was ready to fly. He hoped that Glorfindel could hear him, and when he saw the weapon lowered, he continued with, ‘You would have spooked the horses worse, and the last thing we need is a stampede. Bring an empty pillow case and send someone after my horse.’
Glorfindel handed his bow to Elladan and took hold of the railing. “What are you doing?” Elrond demanded as Glorfindel jumped onto the rail, and then down to the ground, landing in a crouch.
“Erestor just farspoke with me. Send someone with a pillow case or a basket or something,” Glorfindel called up to those in the booth. “Elrohir, find Morir and get him back to his stall!”
“Lord Glorfindel! Lord Glorfindel!” A group of elflings caught the blond’s attention, for they shouted to him as a group, and were dragging a large woven basket out from behind the raised benches where they likely had been playing while their parents watched. Arwen was among them. “Uncle Finny!” she yelled above the others, “Here is a basket for you!”
Stooping down, Glorfindel looked at the basket, noting that it was patterned as many of the ones that Gildor and his followers had. “Where did you find this, little ones?” he asked with concern.
“Under the benches,” explained one of the older elflings. “After the snake crawled out, we decided to play with it.”
Grabbing the basket, Glorfindel ran with it across the lawn, making a note to have a stern discussion with Gildor about misplacing his pets. This had not been the first time – once, just as he was about to take a nap, a long, slithery creature with brown fur and a bad smell ran out from under his bed and pounced him. This was a ferret Glorfindel later found out, and it was only just barely more memorable than the tarantula that had crawled out of his quiver one day just after Gildor had departed the valley.
“Stay right there.” Erestor waited until Glorfindel held his position, and then turned back to the snake, who was now swaying slowly and hissing back to him, but in conversation. Erestor hissed back and raised his hand, stroking her hood as he spoke to her. “Well, I cannot blame her. Had I been abandoned and awoke hungry in such strange surroundings, I would be a bit on edge as well.” Pointing to the basket, Erestor hissed again, and the cobra lowered herself to the ground and moved toward Glorfindel. “Just stay calm, Fin, she just wants to go back into her little house.” Indeed, the snake crawled into the basket and coiled herself in the bottom. Immediately, Glorfindel placed the lid over the top, and then rushed to Erestor.
“Why do you do these things?” he murmured as he removed Erestor’s tunic and shirt hastily, trying not to disturb the broken arm.
“How else am I to have you come racing to my rescue,” teased the dark haired elf. Glorfindel snorted and checked the bruise on Erestor’s hip by pushing the side of his pants down slightly. “Goodness, Fin- here in the middle of the field? And you have not even bought me dinner yet...”
“Oh, hush, you,” scolded Glorfindel as Erestor laughed to himself about the jokes he was making. “Sit still; I have to suck this out,” he said, moving around to Erestor’s shoulder.
Erestor snickered and said, “Are you sure we should not get a room first?”
Rolling his eyes, Glorfindel said, “The poison. From your wound. Honestly, if you keep this up, I may consider gagging you.” He bent his head and sucked out a mouthful of blood and poison before spitting it onto the ground.
“Never know... I might just like that...”
Glorfindel sighed in exasperation and continued his task. One of the things he learned about Erestor was that when the dark elf was extremely concerned or worried about himself, he would begin to make terrible jokes and jests in an attempt to keep himself from panicking. Although it sounded as if Glorfindel was trying to stop him from continuing, he was really trying to egg him on by offering easy shots at the situation.
“Make sure you do not swallow,” warned Elrond, who had arrived with Elladan and an emergency kit. Sitting down on Erestor’s opposite side, Elrond lifted Erestor’s arm and felt along the bones until he found the breaks. “You may have fractured your hip,” he accessed after looking at his counselor’s side. “You definitely broke your arm.”
“Yes... no transcription for a week...” Erestor answered, trying to sound excited about it.
Elrond shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I do not want you walking until I know more. Your arm I will set when we are in the house, so try not to move it much,” he said as he lifted the limb and gently tied it to a splint. “Glorfindel will carry you to the house.”
“Alright, but he still owes me dinner,” answered Erestor a bit sleepily.
Glorfindel, who was rinsing out his mouth with miruvor, just shook his head in answer to Elrond’s questioning look. He lifted his flask to his lips after spitting out the contaminated liquid and took another mouthful, swishing it around before spitting that out, too. “Do you have any disinfectant for this wound?” he asked of Elrond.
“Not out here,” said Elrond. “Inside, which is where you need to take him now.”
“Can we use this?” Glorfindel asked, holding the flask up. Elrond shrugged and then nodded. Tilting the flask slightly, Glorfindel said to Erestor, “This is really going to sting. Do you... want to hold my hand or something?”
“I can’t feel my hands right now, Fin,” replied Erestor seriously.
As he poured the rest of the miruvor over the puncture wound, Glorfindel noticed that Erestor did not even flinch. Tossing the empty container aside, Glorfindel slid one arm under Erestor’s knees and the other he wrapped around the dark elf’s back, pulling him close before he stood up with him.
- - -
“Is Erestor going to die?”
“If one more person asks me that,” warned Elrond, and his sons scooted back a little from their father. “He will be fine. I may kill him for what he did with that snake, but he will live from his fall, and Glorfindel removed enough of the venom in time for it not to cause too much damage or discomfort. There is a bit of an exaggeration as to how badly he was injured, and I will thank you to discontinue any rumors that are spreading about that,” he said as he crushed some dried herbs to powder and added boiling water to them. Elrond and his sons were in his pharmacy room while Glorfindel waited with Erestor in one of the healing rooms.
Elladan picked up a jar of murky blue liquid and held it curiously up to the light. “So, are you saying that Erestor is being overly dramatic about his situation?”
“I-“ Elrond sighed. “I think perhaps the two of you should see to his horse. Did anyone take off the tack and give him a good rubdown?” The twins shook their heads. “Well, there are two of you, I suggest you head out to the stables and do that for Erestor.”
“Yes, Ada.” Elladan put down the glass container and left with Elrohir trailing after him. A moment later, Elrohir poked his head around the corner. “You are sure he will not die, right, Ada?”
All Elrond needed to do was glare to make his son disappear around the corner again. Placing the steaming bowl on a tray, Elrond pulled a bottle out of a cabinet and took a capsule from it, placing it on the tray as well. To this, he added a glass of cool water, and then took all of the items with him down the hall.
Glorfindel stopped whispering to Erestor and looked up when Elrond entered. Elrond placed the tray on a table while he closed the door. “Fin, I need your spot for a moment, but you can have it back as soon as I am finished.”
Standing up, Glorfindel passed by Elrond at the foot of the bed. Placing his hand on the healer’s shoulder, Glorfindel asked in a low voice, “Elrond... uhm, is Erestor... is he...”
“No, he is not going to die!” Elrond hissed in a much angrier voice than he had intended. Glorfindel flinched. “I wish everyone would stop asking!”
“That... actually was not my question,” mumbled Glorfindel.
Elrond sighed and looked at the bed. “Erestor, we will be right back.”
“Me, too,” answered the counselor sleepily.
Once the pair of elf-lords had gone to the hallway, Glorfindel asked, “I just wanted to know whether or not he is... well, the best way I can put it is, is he... is he going to bew like this for a while? He seems a little... off... and a tad crazy the way he is talking about things...”
“That was what I came to take care of. I noticed when I was examining him earlier that he was hallucinating from time to time. I would ask questions and some he answered correctly, while other times he answered as if he was a much younger elf.” Elrond nodded to the door and said, “I have something for him that should clear his head, as it were.”
Glorfindel nodded, and the pair entered the room again. “Erestor,” said Elrond as he came back in and picked up the tray, “I have something for you to drink. Something to make you feel better.”
Erestor warily sat up in bed, squirming a little. His left arm had been bandaged and was wrapped in a manner to keep his lower arm and wrist straight. Elrond had determined that Erestor had a fracture in his hip bone and had threatened to tie the ellon down if he did not agree to stay in bed. At the time, however, it was questionable as to whether Erestor was really remembering Elrond or not. “Tell Naneth I am fine,” he said, pressing his lips firmly together when Elrond set the tray down on the table beside the bed.
“I will, right after you drink this,” insisted Elrond. Erestor adamantly shook his head. “Erestor, you need to drink this or you will not get better.”
“Yes I will,” he argued, scooting away from Elrond as the bowl was held out to him. “It might take longer but I will still heal eventually.”
Elrond set the bowl down on the tray. “Maybe. But, maybe not.”
Erestor frowned at the peredhel as Glorfindel sat down gently beside Erestor on the bed. “You know, it will just be faster if you get it over with,” he suggested. “Otherwise, do you know what he will likely do?” asked Glorfindel. Erestor looked at Glorfindel and shook his head. Glorfindel sighed. “What he will probably make me do is hold you down. And then, he will take a funnel and put it in your mouth and pinch your nose, and you will still have to drink it – only, it will make a mess, and it will not be very pleasant. On the other hand,” he said, motioning to Elrond for him to pass the bowl over, “if you just drink it now, he will leave you alone and I will tell you a bedtime story.”
The bowl was held out in front of Erestor, and after studying Glorfindel for a bit, Erestor, lifted his uninjured hand and took hold of it. He made a face as the steam wafted up to his nose. “I can pinch your nose while you drink it so you do not taste it so much,” offered Glorfindel, and Erestor nodded. With Glorfindel keeping the bowl steady with one hand and pinching Erestor’s nose with the other, the dark elf fought to drink the concoction all in one go. He shuddered after finishing and made a gagging sound, but after swallowing once, he let Glorfindel take possession of the bowl again.
“Just one more thing.” Elrond held out the capsule and the glass of water. “This is to help with the pain in your arm and hip; then, you will need to stay awake for the rest of the evening, until I come back. Alright?”
“Why?” asked Erestor after he swallowed the pill and drank the water.
“Just to make sure,” answered Elrond as he took the empty glass and placed it beside the bowl on the tray. He fluffed the pillow and left Erestor sitting up in bed. “Glorfindel will be right back, I just need to see him in the hallway once more. Good night,” he said to Erestor as he left.
Glorfindel closed the door behind him and awaited Elrond’s instruction. “Make sure he stays in bed. He should start clearing things up in his mind very soon, almost immediately. If he does not, send for me right away, but do not leave him. There are two healers down the hall at all times,” he said, pointing to the room three doors down. “Call for them if anything happens out of the ordinary. He needs to stay awake all night. If he falls asleep, I worry he may fall into a comatose state because of the poison, and we need to keep him awake so that we can monitor his other injuries. I think he is alright, but there is always a chance he hurt something inside that I cannot see. If anything seems out of the ordinary, call for me. And thank you,” he said. “I need to get back; Celebrian has had a terrible time with Arwen. She is thinks this is all her fault for taking the lid off of that basket.”
“I will take care of Erestor, do not worry,” Glorfindel assured Elrond.
“And do not let him eat until breakfast. It will dull the effects of the drugs I gave him,” added Elrond as he headed down the hallway.
Entering the room, Glorfindel found Erestor looking at the door very sheepishly. The pair stared at each other for a long while, and Glorfindel saw clarity in Erestor’s expression. “Well,” Erestor finally said, “I feel like a loon.”
“Not your fault,” Glorfindel reminded him. “You had no control over the situation.”
“Yes, I did,” Erestor reminded him. “I stepped in the way to save my horse. If he had been bitten, he would not have survived.”
“Morir is fine,” Glorfindel assured Erestor. “The twins were going to take care of him, last I heard.”
Erestor nodded. “And what I said out on the field to you? Ai! Was there anyone else around at the time?”
Glorfindel chuckled. “No. Your extreme temporary insanity can be our little secret,” he said. “But, I still feel I owe you dinner...”
To this, Erestor chuckled and blushed, and suddenly found the cast on his arm to be very interesting. “Actually, you do owe me a bedtime story,” he reminded Glorfindel.
“Right. Well... I actually have a bunch of little stories – anecdotes I suppose – that I wanted to share with you, and I was going to come to you with those after the race was over. But, those I will save for now until you are well again,” he said quickly. “Now, a proper story...”
But Erestor would have none of that. “Glorfindel... are these... personal anecdotes?”
“Aye,” he said, nodding. “But... this really is not the time for it...”
Erestor readjusted the best he could against the pillows in the bed. “Do you mind closing the door?” Glorfindel stood and crossed the room, shutting the door per the request. When he sat down again, he was asked, “Tell me how you came to this decision to want to tell me these things.”
“Well...” Glorfindel sat on the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “When you took me to the chapel the other day and I saw the state of things there- actually, it was long before then that I felt what you had been telling me was right, was the way I felt about things. But I stood watching the candles burning and I mulled things over in my mind. After that, I took a walk, and I found myself upon the ridge where we first began our discussion. And, I spoke to Him for a while.”
“And what did He say?”
“Uhh... whh... ehhh, n-nothing... was He supposed to say something?” asked Glorfindel, suddenly worried.
“Sorry, bad joke,” apologized Erestor. “So, you spoke to Him.”
“For a long time, yes.” Glorfindel took a deep breath. “I wanted to come and talk to you right away, but it was late. Then you had this competition to get ready for, and I thought I would just wait until after.”
“Glorfindel, next time you want to talk to me, do not worry about some silly competition,” Erestor told him. “You are more important than my ego and some frilly colored ribbons.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“So...” Erestor shifted again, and yawned. “I have time if you... want to tell me anything. Also, it seems I am not allowed to sleep, so one way or another you owe me a story.” He reached out with his good hand and poked Glorfindel’s shoulder.
Glorfindel was silent for a long while until Erestor said, “Or, we can wait. There is no reason to rush.”
“I just need to sort things out. Bad enough to confess your sins of one lifetime, let alone two,” admitted Glorfindel. “I just need to figure out where to begin.”
“Wherever you like. And do not worry too much over it – if you forget something, you will remember it later. We can just talk and let things come as they will.”
“When I was... well, little... I stole one of my sister’s dresses. Many of them over the years, really. Then I would hide them and never gave them back,” said Glorfindel.
Erestor struggled to find a way to fold his hands together, and finally settled for taking hold of one of Glorfindel’s with his free one. “Was it because you were jealous of her?”
Averting Erestor’s gaze, Glorfindel said, “Noooo... it was because I thought they were pretty. I wanted them... and, probably would have tried to wear them had they not been too small. Actually, I did try one of them on, once,” he mumbled. “I was jealous, I guess. She was a girl, and there were times I wanted to...” Glorfindel fought to continue speaking. “...times I wondered if I was born the wrong gender. After my brother was born, I remember relatives coming over and saying ‘two sons and a daughter’, and he would reply with, ‘no, now I have one of each’. I always hated when he said that. But then, I feel like a little bit of both now and then. Which sounds terrible, because I should just be happy as I am.”
Unsure of exactly what to say, Erestor finally settled on, “Pink.”
“Huh?” Glorfindel looked up with confusion.
“I think you would have favored pink dresses,” he said.
Glorfindel blinked, and then grinned. “Well, I did like the pink ones an awful lot.”
“Really, what you are admitting to is not something to be ashamed of- a lot of children fantasize about being the opposite gender, especially if they think that they are unfairly treated for whatever reason. You saw your parents paying more attention to your sister, so you wanted to be a girl. I have observed others who are like this, or in the reverse, secretly wish they were boys. Galadriel, for instance, said outright a number of times growing up that she would have liked to have been a brother instead of a sister, and she played with the boys and roughhoused with them. I do not ever recall her holding a tea party or making mud pies with her female peers. As for the stealing,” said Erestor, “that was wrong, but I am sure Eru forgives you for that.”
Glorfindel continued to list his transgressions, and for each Erestor had comforting words or a little prayer to be said. By morning, Glorfindel felt for the first time in either life absolved of the many wrongdoings he had committed.
“How will I ever thank you for this?” wondered Glorfindel as he sat beside Erestor, for he had moved to sit on the bed atop the blankets after the first hour of their discussion.
“No thanks are necessary,” Erestor assured him. “This is what I do.”
“Well, thank you all the same,” replied Glorfindel. “But I still owe you dinner some time,” he added with a grin.
To this, Erestor could only laugh again and blush.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Erestor loves his horse, but his horse hates snakes