CHAPTER 2: Moments In Time
Erestor worked hard to gain his lord's and Dírhael's respect and admiration. He only lived for his work and shunned every personal contact to other elves in Imladris.
In those first years of Erestor's life in the Hidden Valley Glorfindel often berated those who would spread rumours' about the quiet ellon living with the chief counsellor, or talk behind his back. He warded off any suitors whom he thought had dishonourable motives (which naturally enfolded every ellon or elleth that would have approached Erestor to begin with) and otherwise kept his eyes peeled – but always from the background, unbeknown to Elrond, Dírhael and Erestor.
And Glorfindel found that defending Erestor was quite a task – he had not known the young one to be that successful in making enemies: nearly everyone disliked him because of his cold exterior and most thought it to be scandalous at best that the adoption by Dírhael had gained Erestor the title of a lord; the other advisors disliked him for his intelligence, his closeness to Dírhael (and more and more Elrond himself), for his blunt honesty and his dogmatic way to teach everyone around him, even his superiors and elders; the maids and servants disliked him because they thought him to be 'priggish' (mostly because he didn't speak with them - although to be honest he didn't speak to anyone he could avoid talking with); the guards disliked him because he was a scholar or because Glorfindel deemed them not good enough to pursue the pretty little thing, the musicians disliked him because Lindir did; and Lindir disliked him because the Mirkwood plague had dared to tell him he had been off a little bit and how to remedy it when he had heard the young minstrel play for the first time in the Hall of Fire . Unluckily young Lindir was the most promising musician from the lot of students and did not take such an insult lightly. After a long private conversation, Glorfindel had at least persuaded the white haired elf to ignore the darkling and be done with it for the sake of everyone involved.
How could one protect someone who was determined to make an enemy out of everyone he met? But as time passed, Erestor lost the last marks of the elven sickness. He talked with Elrond and Dírhael but never told them much about his childhood. Their weekly 'meetings' consisted of small trips to the surrounding woods or conversations in the library or the gardens.
What they gathered from his rare remarks about his former life was that his family had isolated him and for an unknown reason kept him a secret. Erestor had rarely been outside and therefore enjoyed their excursions and for a short time he almost seemed to be happy.
But Elrond noticed that Erestor was never at ease in his company and as Erestor's health improved, they met less and less often until they ceased to meet in private entirely. Although Elrond missed the discussions with his friend and Erestor, this enabled him to spend more and more time with his wife and children and Dírhael was not opposed either, as he had seen that Erestor was always at unease around their lord.
Erestor had never told anyone the date of his birth, claiming that he had been reborn the day Thalion had found him. So it came that the 6th November was Erestor's birthday.
On his tenth birthday he knocked on the door of Elrond's office, where the lord of Imladris was currently working with his chief advisor. When he entered, he wore not his usual black attire but a dark red robe that gave him a more approachable look, enhancing his pale beauty.
Elrond smiled at the young ellon.
"Happy birthday, Erestor. I am glad to see you in something other than black. You look brilliant pen neth." Dírhael chuckled when his charge groaned and rolled his eyes to hide his discomfort. Erestor had never learned to handle praises, no matter if they concerned his looks or his work. "My lord Elrond, I only came to inform you that I have reached my maturity more than 3 months but less than ten years ago and that I could now be employed as an apprentice and that I would gladly accept, if I was offered an apprenticeship training position." Both lords gaped open-mouthed at the young ellon. Dírhael was the first to recover and he immediately stood and hugged Erestor close. "An apprentice my dear one? Ha, with your skills I would gladly make you my assistant!" Elrond's face on the other hand showed a sad little smile. "You still do not trust us."
He was referring to Erestor not wanting them to know the date of his birth and both of the other elves immediately knew what he meant. Dírhael gave his friend a warning gaze, but Erestor was already looking at Elrond with that stone mask of his, that never seemed to leave his young features. "That's not correct, my lord. I do trust you, and I trust in your sense of justice. And that's why I think you would be writing to king Thranduil the moment I gave you more information that could lead to my family's name." An uncomfortable silence settled between the three elves. Only when Erestor averted his eyes Elrond spoke up again.
"So you want to work for me? As an apprentice?" "But Elrond, he has worked as my assistant for some time now – unofficially, that's true – but it would be a setback if he was to enter an apprenticeship now!" Erestor shook his head "My lord, I want to *earn* my position. I know that many think me to be a cadger. I want to start as an apprentice like everyone else and not be promoted until I have merited it." Elrond nodded knowingly, he had heard those whispered words. But they weren't the most malign ones: he had even heard some elves wondering if the handsome ellon earned himself the chief advisor's affection in his bed. He had taken the gossips aside and asked them for proof, knowing they had none. He had then given them a lecture about how low it was to drag the respectability and honour of an elf like Dírhael in the mud who would never ever take advantage of a youth like that and to judge Erestor, whom they did not know. He told them if he was ever to hear such a pack of lies from them again, they would face his wrath and send them on their way.
It had helped a little bit, but it was hard to fight existing rumours. The problem was that Erestor would have a hard time as an apprentice. To prove his worth to his instructors, the young elf would need to work harder than his contemporaries and achieve better results. He knew that Erestor was more than up to the challenge but it would be frustrating. Dírhael laid a hand on his charges shoulder. "I am proud of you, you know?" "It is settled then. I will speak with your instructors, Erestor. You may begin next Monday. But I will warn you: you will have a tough time, pen neth. And if you want to earn the others' respect, you will have to do this alone without me or Dírhael meddling. They will not be easy on you." "I understand, my lord. I will not disappoint you." "I'm sure you never will." And he did not. Erestor proved to be more strenuous and ambitious than even Elrond or Dírhael had expected. When interacting with his instructors he was always polite and showed his eagerness to learn. But he was assertive and though he was willing to accept failure in the few cases that he found his own opinion to be wrong, he could discuss for hours if he deemed himself to be right, always with a slight smile and never raising his voice. Needless to say that this behavior did not gain him friends among his tutors, but it brought him forward and after only 68 years he became the youngest advisor ever in Imladris, reducing his apprenticeship by 32 years. While his adoptive father achieved his goals with a polite discussion and arguments that cleverly turned around his counterparts' opinion, Erestor vigorously argued and silenced his opponents with logic. But little by little Erestor learned how to play the difficult game of scheming and intriguing within the council rooms. And while he got better in leading negotiations, he worked his way up until half a century later he had outrun all of his colleagues and achieved the position he had wanted all along: the position of Dírhael's substitute.
At that time he was around 170 years – still no one knew for sure - and the youngest senior advisor of every elven realm in the history of Arda.
All the while Elrond watched with worry as his wife more and more distanced herself, growing silent and sometimes even depressed. He did his best to make her open up to him for he was sure that whatever plagued his Celebrían, they could overcome together. But the beautiful elleth only smiled, caressing her husband's cheek, saying that it was nothing he should worry about.
Elrond felt that they were growing apart. Not because of less love, for he could see Celebrían's love for him in her eyes. It shone as brightly as ever, but there was something else in those deep blue mirrors of her soul: a shadow that dimmed her light, a fear that he couldn't understand.
More and more often Elrond found himself wandering the gardens brooding over the question of what was ailing his wife. Like this night. It was a late summer evening. The sun had already set and the gruelling heat had given way to a milder, low wind. It always seemed to Elrond that the air of the warm summer days was too heavy, pregnant with moisture and overwhelming odours. He preferred the summer nights, when the air was filled with the soft smell of the roses in Imladris' gardens and nature itself seemed to be relieved to be rid of the suffocating warmth.
But this night the dark soothing coolness bore no comfort for him as he wandered between the flower-beds his wife had helped plant and care for. He let his fingers glide over the petals of the champagne coloured roses, and he knitted his brows, taking a deep steadying breath.
If only Celebrían would talk to him, but she was as stubborn as she was strong; she would solve her own problems, she always had. The elleth had just never understood that he needed to be there for her as she was there for him. He could well remember when it had started. Not even a century after their marriage he had noticed that she had her dark secrets, that she was hiding something from him. At first it had been something vague and indistinctive and somehow he had missed the chance to address the matter before it became a real problem.
The moment he had first noticed his wife's melancholia was when Arwen had been a small child, barely seven years old and he had observed his family in the garden. FLASHBACK Celebrían sat on the grass playing with her young daughter and every now and then she would look up to watch her sons fight with wooden swords with their weaponry teacher - Glorfindel. They were still young, but their skill with the sword was already considerable for that age. One day they would become great warriors. Not exactly a future, a mother wished for her sons, but it had always been their wish, and she would not hinder them. She watched with amusement as her frustrated twin sons tackled the fabled lord of Gondolin. Glorfindel not even trying to defend himself in earnest fell to the ground with the boys above him, all three of them now laughing and rolling around in the grass.
It was then that a shadow passed over her beautiful face, and she bit the insides of her lips so as not to shed tears. "Nana?" Celebrían turned to her daughter and immediately hid her darkening mood behind a beaming smile. "Come darling, let's save poor Glorfindel from your brothers, shall we?" She helped her 7 years old daughter up and gave her a shove towards the scuffling ellyn. Arwen began running towards them crying "hold on, Glorfindel". Celebrían smiled bitter-sweetly, as Elladan stopped immediately, catching his sister before she could throw herself on them and started to tickle her mercilessly.
"You little traitor, you should be on our side!" Glorfindel immediately joined in. Keeping Elrohír at bay he called out to the little princess "Hold on my lady. I will save you from those creations of evil!" Elrond chose that moment to enter the gardens behind his office. He chuckled and laid his arms around his golden haired wife from behind and kissed her cheek.
"Hello gorgeous." She looked back and smiled lovingly, but Elrond could feel that she was troubled.
"What ails you my sweet?" "Nothing when you're here." Elrond cocked his head but let it go for the moment."Shall we safe our poor balrog slayer, or shall we leave him to his destiny?" Celebrían smiled to her husband and called her children. When they finally let go of the blond ellon, she excused herself to manoeuvre Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen towards the main house to take a bath before dinner, leaving Imladris` lord and his captain. "They will be great warriors someday; and your daughter will be the best of them all, my lord!" "Elrond." Glorfindel grinned. "My lord Elrond, then." Elrond only sighed, wishing the beautiful ellon would be more open towards him.
Glorfindel of Imladris - former Glorfindel of Gondolin - was always civil, always open-minded and honest as far as he was concerned, but it seemed the balrog slayer kept himself at a distance, always keeping in mind, that Elrond was his lord. But Elrond would prefer a friend over a servant - especially Glorfindel. Not for the first time he asked himself, what would have happened, if he had met him before his marriage to Celebrían - and immediately berated himself for the disrespectful thoughts towards his wife. END OF FLASHBACK He had felt so guilty then for his feelings and thoughts but more and more he despaired. He had managed to truly befriend the golden lord but at the same time it seemed he had lost his wife.
Elrond sighed and turned … and startled. "Glorfindel, must you always sidle up to me like that?" "I am sorry, Elrond. Bad habit, I know; Can't help myself." The small smile that played around Glorfindel's lips did not reach his eyes. Elrond could not stop himself from staring into the blue eyes of his captain full of compassion and … worry? And when Glorfindel asked him to walk with him he could not refuse.
For minutes they walked silently next to each other. Elrond knew what the blond elf wanted him to do and he needed to do it, but he wasn't ready yet. And so he enjoyed the Vanya's company, his best friend next to Dírhael. "Haven't we called each other mellon for many a century now? Will you not let me help you?" "Glorfindel, it's … a private matter." The lord of Imladris sighed.
Glorfindel only smiled "All the better, if it wasn't, I would tell you to bother Dírhael with it." Elrond looked at his captain. "You will keep on nagging until I tell you what you already know."
The blond kept on grinning "So why don't you get it over with?" "Sometimes I miss the quiet shy elf that could not stop lording me." Glorfindel was glad to see that the gentle bantering was lightening his friend's mood and he waited for Elrond to continue.
"Something's bothering Celebrían, but she won't talk to me anymore." Glorfindel kept quiet. He knew what plagued his lord and friend, but it was important for Elrond to speak the words for the sake of speaking them, so that he would know he was not alone with his problems – even when Celebrían felt she needed to be alone with hers. "What am I to do, Glorfindel? I cannot force her to open up to me. The silence between us is growing and keeping us apart like upwelling fog until we won't be able to see each other anymore." The blond ellon studied Elrond's face. His friend had knitted his features angrily, his mouth a thin line. There was bitterness. Glorfindel sighed. If he had meddled earlier it would have been easier to help.
For one moment he asked himself if he had not wanted to help, if he had hoped to see them growing apart. He didn't know when he had fallen in love with the fabled Half-Elf, but it had happened. If Celebrían and Elrond broke up he would be free to …
The balrog slayer chastised himself. He was not normally of an egoistic nature and he had known from the beginning that Elrond was out of reach. Never would he come between the two lovers; He loved Elrond and he would do everything to make him happy – and this included to make things right between Celebrían and him. Glorfindel left the path, sitting down below an old, gnarled ash tree and motioned for Elrond to join him.
Then he waited for the half-elf to make himself comfortable next to him. "She loves you, Elrond. Never doubt that. Maybe she does not want to add to your burden: Vilya, Imladris …" "I do not doubt it. I can feel it in her touch, I can see it in her eyes. It's … " he looked at his captain "I … I do not doubt that she loves me."
The Half-Elf felt so miserable and just saying his problems, making them real by naming them, evoked a deep sense of despair and hopelessness in his heart and he could not stop the bitter tears from leaving his eyes. "Elbereth, Elrond, please …" Glorfindel sat up to kneel in front of his friend and secret love and his hands moved on their own volition taking Elrond's face between them. Tears always made him helpless, and Elrond's tears pained him more than he could bear. He leaned his forehead against Elrond's. "She loves you, Elrond. That is the most important thing. It will work out, just give her time." Glorfindel felt Elrond move his head but still he wasn't prepared to feel lips on his. It was only a light, fleeting touch but still he pulled back immediately as if burned. His heart hammering madly, he focused on the grass at his side, not willing to meet Elrond's eyes while he could still feel the soft lips, could nearly taste the Half-Elf. Elrond felt a pang of guilt rushing through his chest. "Glorfindel, I am so sorry, I did not mean to …" "It's okay, Elrond. Nothing happened." But Glorfindel was hurt, hurt that the friend he had desired for so long excused himself so quickly. He had hoped that Elrond would not have done it just out of desperation, that his secret love had felt what he had felt. The captain closed his eyes. "Glorfindel, really …" "Do not complicate it further, Elrond. We have been friends for centuries; one single imprudence doesn't change this." Oh how he wished it to be a lie. For long moments they sat side by side, using the time to affirm each other with silent, comforting closeness that the last minute's happenings had not changed their friendship - both unaware of the pair of blue eyes that watched them from the main house. And with a quite sob, Celebrían turned from the window towards her and her husband's bedchamber.
After this, Celebrían was even more depressed until she heeded her daughter's advice to spend some time in Lóriën. Both mother and daughter had always felt at peace in the Golden Wood and even if Arwen knew nothing of her mother's grief, she hoped that a prolonged stay beneath the golden leaves of the mallyrn would do her good. It was agreed that she would accompany the party of advisors on their next diplomatic visit two weeks hence, Dírhael accompanying her.
After the decision was made, Celebrían's mood lifted considerably and Elrond grew hopeful that his wife's upcoming journey and her mother's wise council would help her overcome the problems she could not address with him. As for Glorfindel ... the balrog slayer was not sure what to make of it. The captain had felt the lady's eyes on him more than once, had felt her stare. She was not discourteous towards him, far from it. But maybe she was just trying a little bit too hard and Glorfindel was not sure if the beaming smile that she directed towards him was true, it did not seem to reach her eyes. He could only hope the lady had not witnessed Elrond's and his little escapade.
He and his cousin Galadriel had crossed the Helcaraxe together and they had long been friends; but he did not doubt the lady of the Golden Wood would give him a very painful return to Mandos, should she come to the opinion that he had seduced her daughter's husband. And he loved his life too much to die a second time. When Imladris people came together in the courtyard to see their lady off, they saw Celebrían in high spirits. The silver queen held her head high with a proud and serene expression on her fair features as she embraced her husband and children. "Do not fret. I will be back next summer. Elladan watch out for your siblings and keep out of mischief for your father's sake, all three of you." And she kissed them good-bye before she turned to her husband. "I love you, Elrond." She whispered in his ear as she embraced him. It felt good to be in his arms even if she knew that this would probably be the last time. She had made her decision: Imladris would never be her home again. But saying the final words was too hard right now. And she needed her parents' guidance and council.
"Whatever will happen in the future, husband, I will always love you." Elrond stared at her when she pulled back smiling. Her words sounded like a portent to him. "I love you, too. Always have and always will." He tried to smile when she took her leave. And so it was that Celebrían left for Lóriën, the land of her father and mother, in the summer of the year 2509, Third Age. But she would never reach the Golden Wood.
CHAPTER END NOTES
pen neth ~ young one
mellon ~ friend
ellon ~ male elf
elleth ~ female elf