An hour can be measured as an eternity, and such was the case for Erestor. He dismounted at the main doors, and then watched Glorfindel ride back to the stable. Following that, he did not quite know where to go. It would take less than ten minutes for him to reach his own house, and less than a minute after that to be at Glorfindel’s door.
He walked slowly and avoided most of the inhabitants, for it was suppertime for most everyone. Erestor paused now and then as a particular spot or item would recall for him a memory connected to Glorfindel. A chair that Glorfindel often sat in outside of the council chambers, before and after meetings. The cart of towels that was lingering in the hallway as a maid was making a delivery – Glorfindel insisted upon red ones, and only red ones, to hide blood when he bathed following an attack or battle. Their first meeting, on the twisting stairs that led to the upper levels.
Erestor was scolding one of his pages for stealing something from his squire as he walked the boy down to be dealt with formally by Elrond. Glorfindel, just arrived, sent to the refuge by Ereinion, did not hear much of the conversation, but could see that Erestor was quite angry and the boy was frightened beyond belief. He stood upon the stairs, blocking their way, and said, “Do not admonish your son so; the young are fickle and flighty and need guidance more than scolding.”
The interruption angered Erestor, who stood up straight and announced pointedly to the stranger, “This is not my son. I have no children, nor have I intention of any.” Erestor instructed the boy to continue down to Elrond’s office, which the page did in haste.
“Does your wife share that opinion?” asked Glorfindel curiously.
“Despite it being none of your concern, I have no wife, nor have I intention of any.” Erestor observed the newcomer now, finding himself especially drawn to the firm muscles of his arms and the golden hair. Surely, he would now hear of this gentleman’s family and how well his children were raised or some such thing.
Instead, Glorfindel smiled as his own gaze wandered up and down, taking in the lean yet muscled body of the archer turned advisor, and the stern yet fair face that was staring, almost glaring at him. Glorfindel shook his head, and as he passed by on his way up the stairs, he leaned in to whisper to Erestor, “Neither do I, and nor do I have any such intention.” It was quite clear to both of them what that meant. They each turned their head, facing one another, standing too close for acquaintances. “Where do you spend your evenings?” asked Glorfindel.
Erestor vaguely remembered responding – something about the gardens and the Hall of Fire, or perhaps it included chess in the library. It mattered very little – he spent that evening, and many after, in Glorfindel’s bed. Just the thought sent a rush through him, and he began to mentally scold himself for his own recent misfortune. Stubborn seemed too light a word for it, but it was all that echoed through his mind as he set forth on a new destination.
He reached the door of the primary suite within the Last Homely House, and knocked purposefully upon it. His wait was brief before the butler answered and beckoned him in. It had been a long time since Erestor had entered these rooms, and he felt uncertain about coming here. He had no time to reconsider as Elrond emerged into the foyer and greeted him. “Is something the matter?” he asked after pleasantries were exchanged.
“Not exactly. I was hoping to speak to your wife,” explained Erestor.
Elrond looked unsure, but he nodded. “Allow me to ask if she wishes a visitor. She is well, but exhausted.” Elrond left for a moment, then returned and motioned with his hand for Erestor to follow him. They came into the sitting room, where Celebrian sat in a rocking chair with one bundled baby, as the nursemaid rocked the other gently in a cradle. “As it turns out, it is bedtime for the twins. Oh, you have yet to see them,” Elrond suddenly remembered. He gently took the babe that his wife had been cuddling, and brought the child to Erestor. “This is Elrohir, born second. The firstborn and heir is with Mirinhel.” The nursemaid took this as a signal to bring the other child over. “Ah, and this is Elladan.” Elrond doted upon them both, and insisted that Erestor hold each in turn. As he stood with Elrohir in his arms, Erestor felt the basis of his long-lasting argument fade away.
Celebrian laughed from where she sat and said in explanation, “You look terribly awkward, Lord Erestor.”
“I am obviously not meant to be a father,” he replied as the nursemaid assisted in an adjustment of his arms while still cradling Elladan in one of hers. “Oh, I give up,” he finally said as he deposited the child with Elrond. “A bow or a scroll I can handle, but babies are beyond me.”
Elrond chuckled and shook his head. “We all have our talents, I suppose. If you will excuse me, it is time for a long nap.” He and Mirinhel took the twins out of the room, leaving Erestor alone with Celebrian.
“My husband said you wished to speak with me,” said Celebrian. She was still on the rocking chair, eyes half-closed.
Erestor approached and pulled a small footstool over to sit upon. “I did. I have an apology to make, one that is long overdue. Inadvertently, I feel that I ruined your wedding reception. That was not my intention; nonetheless, I did undoable emotional damage. I should not have said what I did.”
“Do you believe what you said?”
“At the time,” said Erestor. He bowed his head as he decided how much to reveal. “I was the product of a political marriage. The sole purpose my parents had in having me was to further my father’s political reaches. In Doriath, I was forced to spend all free time courting the princess. When I failed in that, and revealed my... personal preference for princes over princesses, it became a failure for the family. Forgive my words, but the day that Turin killed him was probably one of the happiest in my life.”
The lady leaned back in the chair and began to rock in it. “I understand your personal circumstances, and how that has affected you,” she said. “Know this, Erestor – I refused to allow myself to be bound into a political marriage. I have been courted by kings – Amroth, Ereinion, and even Thranduil. I had no interest in any of them, and I followed the advice of my parents – marry for love. That is what I did.”
“I see that now,” admitted Erestor with his head bowed. “I hope you might someday forgive me for my inability to see that and the words and actions that followed.”
“You are forgiven, Erestor. From my understanding, you have served your own penance since that day. Tell me – are you able to forgive yourself?”
“I hope to have that answer within the hour,” Erestor replied.
