Then after some time they traveled to southern Aman – and here they saw towering high above them the Hyarmentir, and the other mountains capped with snow. In the distance, they appeared like ghosts of the rocky cliffs from Gondolin. It was their first journey together into placed unexplored by Glorfindel, and Erestor was pleased to act as guide.
The excitement exhibited by Erestor was mirrored by Glorfindel in the form of an unseen mask. During the first days of their travels, Glorfindel appeared as delighted as Erestor; however, upon retiring at an inn for the evening of the sixth day, the transparency of Glorfindel’s disguise was worn away. It was clear to Erestor that his companion was not sharing the same desire and he when the announcement that they should climb to the peak of Hyarmentir was met with a false smile.
“Is it that the travel has made you weary, or is the scenery not to your liking?” questioned Erestor once he finished tending to the fireplace.
“The scenery is fine,” said Glorfindel carefully.
“Is it my presence, then?” wondered Erestor. “I should speak less and allow you to look more,” he added to himself.
Glorfindel reached out to a pacing Erestor and managed to touch his wrist. “It has nothing to do with that.” He smiled when Erestor turned to face him in an attempt to appear friendlier. “My darling, this is not to in any way make your home seem any lesser, but I fear I shall disappoint you to tell you the truth.”
“There is no need to lie to me,” insisted Erestor, his arms folding defensively over his chest despite his comment. “I doubt you will upset me.”
Glorfindel drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair he sat in. “Every mountain looks like every other mountain.”
“But... the Hyarmentir is the highest peak in this part of the Pelori.”
Glorfindel smiled as sweetly as he could. “The mountains here in the South look just like the mountains in the North. And the mountains in the North,” he continued, “look strikingly similar to the Hithaeglir. All of them look like the Echoriath,” he added, he voice taking on a slightly acidic tone.
Erestor bit his lip and dropped his arms to his sides. “I should not have made you come to see the mountains,” he apologized. He snapped his fingers. “We could go to see the forest of Orome! I am sure you will enjoy that much better.”
“Alright,” answered a hesitant Glorfindel as he stood and headed for the bed in the next room. Erestor managed to take hold of Glorfindel’s hand before he was able to walk away. “Darling, what is wrong?”
“Well, I suppose it is just that... I have seen forests and mountains and all other things. I have little desire to travel,” admitted Glorfindel.
“Do you want to go home?” asked Erestor after a moment’s hesitation.
“Where are you going?” asked Glorfindel. When Erestor did not immediately answer, he continued, “I am going where you go; my destination is to follow your footprints. If that means climbing a mountain, or camping in a forest, or canoeing down a stream, that is where I shall be. Place means nothing; who I am with means everything,” he emphasized, giving Erestor’s hand a squeeze.
Erestor returned the action and nodded. “Then we should go home.”
“Wait a moment,” said Glorfindel, tightening his grip on Erestor’s hand when he attempted to walk away. “Just because I do not care whether or not I see another mountain does not mean you need to sacrifice completely for me. Do you want to see the mountain, or were we just going so that you could show the mountain to me?”
“For you,” replied Erestor. “I have seen it many times before.”
“Then, if it is all the same to you, we can go home. Unless there is another place you desire to go?” prodded Glorfindel.
“I do like visiting Tanequetil,” Erestor finally said. “I have friends living on the slopes I should like you to meet.”
Glorfindel finally smiled honestly. “Now that sounds like a journey worth making.”
