FIC: Unforgettable - Book 3, Chapter 16

[zhie]

Unforgettable
by Zhie
Rated NC17 for the entire thing
This part, PG
Book 3; Chapter 16 of bunches
Overall part 78
All about Glorfindel and Erestor, and lots of other Gondolin folk
But, mostly them
Archived at Phoenix - http://phoenix.zhie.us



As Glorfindel kept hold with his arms around the deer's pale neck, his
new friend darted forward. Through the rocky terrain he weaved, with
quick, powerful leaps that propelled them across the area and into
more lush surroundings faster than expected. Glorfindel closed his
eyes, stomach queasy, chest aching. It was far different to ride a
stag compared to a horse. "Can we go a little slower?" he begged as a
sharp branch clipped his cheek that had just barely healed days
earlier.

"Not yet, I am afraid. Your friends are no doubt awake by now and
they will follow whatever trail they find. I must keep on, young
master. It will be over soon and then you will feel better."

It seemed hours to Glorfindel before they slowed, and it likely was.
He begged again for them to stop for a moment when he felt the bile
rise in his throat. The stag reluctantly agreed and upon doing so
Glorfindel slipped off of his mount into a heap on the ground. Bowing
his head, he emptied the meager contents of his stomach onto the
grass. "Rog was right. The hair is a hazard." What was left of the
ends of his golden tresses had gotten caught up in the mess, and he
sighed. "My four legged friend, do you know whether there is water
nearby?"

"A spring with fresh water awaits us. I shall take you there."

Glorfindel climbed back upon the deer with minor reluctance. "Please
tell me we can travel slowly."

"It is on our way to your city. There is no need for us to rush now.
We are far ahead."

As soon as Glorfindel was seated on the stag they began the journey
through the woods, coming very soon to a small brook. "This is
exactly what I was hoping for."

"I am glad it pleases you," said the stag as Glorfindel dismounted.
This consisted more of the deer lowering himself and Glorfindel
sliding off onto the ground again.

While Glorfindel sat at the edge of the water and washed his hair, the
stag kept watch. Glorfindel splashed water onto his face and drank a
little after rinsing out his mouth. Once he finished, he looked up at
the sky, and noted that it was midday. "Will we find water again
along our way?"

"Yes, but likely not today. You should drink now if you thirst."

After he drank his fill, Glorfindel rested for a bit in the sunshine.
"I forgot how nice it is to be... free."

"Free?"

"Here, outside, in the middle of nowhere... instead of stuck behind a
wall, surrounded by another wall, and another, and another, and many
more. I wish I could stay here forever."

The stag flicked his ears and looked worried. "Master said to take
you back to your home. Do you not wish to go back?"

"I need to go back. I just wish I did not." Glorfindel rose up into
a sitting position, squeezing his eyes shut with the pain that shot
through his left side. "It was just a passing fancy."

"Come. I will take you home, as I promised." The stag lowered
himself so that Glorfindel could mount him without straining himself,
and then began to travel once more toward Gondolin.

Now that the ride was not as jostling, Glorfindel found time to
converse with the stag as they went. "You said that you usually watch
the prince."

"Yes. The Prince of Tol Eressea."

"Do you mean Erestor?"

"I think I have heard him called that sometimes." The stag slowly his
gait considerably as they passed a tree with crabapples on it. "If
you are hungry, these are not poisonous. There are berries ahead as
well."

"Thank you." Glorfindel plucked a few from the low hanging branches.
"Were you following him throughout the entire war? And how did you
stay concealed?"

The stag said, "I took the form of a dove so that I could watch from
the air. Battles are not a good place for horses."

"So you are a horse?"

"I am whatever my master wills me. I do prefer being a horse. That
was how Master first sang me to be," explained the stag fondly.
"Master asked I come to you like this. He said you would feel at ease
with me like this, and I would be less obvious."

"Do you ever take the form of an Elf?"

The deer seemed confused by this question. "Why would I want to do
that? I can be anything, anything at all. Taking the form of an Elf
would be awfully... limiting."

"Ah. Yes, very true." Glorfindel smiled. "I think I will sleep for a while."

"Try not to fall off, young master," advised the stag. "You do not
want to further injure yourself."

"I shall do my best," answered Glorfindel.

---

Meanwhile, Erestor was trying to explain things to Rog with less
success than the stag had with Glorfindel.

"I really have no idea where he is."

"Dammit, Erestor, I know you hid him!" Rog was furiously stomping
from one rock formation to the next searching for other caves. "When
I find him, I may well break both of your necks!"

Erestor sighed and slumped against one of the boulders. "When you
find him, I might help you."

"My patience is wearing thin." After making another pass by the cave
they had spent the night in, Rog reached down and hoisted Erestor up
by the front of his shirt. "There is no time for this sort of game.
Tell me where he is, now!"

"I do not know!" Each word came out louder until the last one was
screamed back at Rog. Erestor grabbed the fabric of his collar and
ripped it out of Rog's grasp. "He must have started back before we
woke," ground out Erestor.

"He could not walk," growled Rog back.

Erestor snorted. "You do not know that. He only said he was unsure
and would try. Neither of us really knew the answer to that question,
did we? For all we know, he hitched a ride on an eagle and is home
already. He was away from Gondolin more recently than either of us,
or do you forget that he was part of Aredhel's escort?"

Grudgingly, Rog stepped back to give Erestor room to step away. "Let
me give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he left early and
managed to leave the cave without our knowledge. I doubt he has made
it far, and there should be a trail to follow. The only things I have
found are tracks of wild animals. There is nothing to show an eagle
landed in the area and no marks on the ground showing his steps.
Unless you propose he tied together a couple of raccoons and knelt on
their backs as they scampered through the woods?"

For a moment, Erestor pretended to consider this. "He is shorter and
probably lighter than most Elves..."

"Oh, come off it, Erestor!" Rog crossed his arms over his chest. "Do
you swear to me you did not shuffle him off somewhere or hide him in a
tree or anything of the sort?"

"I honestly do not know where he is, and furthermore, I am worried
sick he might have injured himself worse or been ambushed by going on
his own. He did not take his shield, nor food, nor any weapons with
him. I worry he might have been delirious and could be aimlessly
wandering at this very moment."

"Yes, I suppose there is that," conceded Rog. "We should stop
dawdling, leave now and make haste. He probably followed the river.
Even if he took another path, Turgon was taking the Sirion back and we
must follow it."

Erestor quickly gathered his gear as well as Glorfindel's, deciding it
best not to remind Rog that it was his dawdling that had put them off
their schedule. The letters were carefully accounted for as well, and
once Erestor had managed to get everything tied together and on his
back, he imagined he looked like some odd sort of disgruntled pack
animal. It was an excuse, he realized, to walk a little slower than
normal. Despite his worry that Glorfindel was in danger, he was more
concerned that they would come upon him too soon and that Rog would
'do what was necessary'. Erestor made a conscious effort to drag his
feet as they journeyed homeward.

---

A light in the darkness brought Glorfindel from his slumber. He found
that he was on the ground, curled upon some sort of animal hide. A
collection of other pelts skillfully sewn together covered him. The
fur was soft and warm, and he only glanced around to see the stag
asleep beneath a tree before burrowing back into them.

"Are you hungry?" asked a deep, familiar-sounding voice. Glorfindel
sat up and blinked, and turned his head now toward the bright source.
The voice, though sounding like Erestor, was deeper still, and the
figure, though similar, was taller, older, and majestic in a way only
those few who were chosen by Eru could be. No introduction was
necessary. "Have something to eat," he said, waving his hand past a
cloth upon which ripe berries were piled. A flagon of milk or cream
was nestled on the ground beside the food.

Glorfindel drew the fur around his shoulders before he reached for a
handful of berries. As he ate them, a cup was brought forth and set
before him. He quenched his thirst with the drink he was given, and
found it had a rich, sweet buttermilk flavor to it. "Thank you," he
finally remembered to say, and his host nodded.

"You are most welcome." Orome refilled the cup and Glorfindel drank it as well.

"Not only for the food," said Glorfindel once he had eaten his fill.
"I mean, for sending your servant to rescue me from death."

"You are already dead."

The words chilled Glorfindel immediately. "You mean, I am... I have
died? We are in the Halls of Waiting?" He panicked for a moment as
Orome suppressed a sorry sort of chuckle.

"I apologize. No, you are still very much alive right now. You
should be in Namo's realm as we speak. I did not know my decision to
aid you would so alter your course as it has." Orome paused, and then
said, "Unfortunately, I have merely prolonged the inevitable."

"Which means, I am still going to die," guessed Glorfindel solemnly.

Orome nodded. "You are beyond the healing of your people. Yes, you
will manage to live longer now that you have a means back to the city,
but your body will slowly grow weaker until you either beg someone to
end your misery or it gives out entirely."

"How long will that be?" Glorfindel could only imagine that the reason
he was no hysterical upon learning this news was the presence of the
vala.

"There are many variables. I cannot say for certain. You do have a
choice before you. I can take you back to your friends now or I can
take you back to the city."

Glorfindel weighed the two possibilities. His chest ached with every
breath, and the thought of living for years without relief was not a
pleasant one. On the other hand, there were those in Gondolin whom he
knew and loved and it was not every day that someone destined for the
Halls of Mandos was given prolonged leave to say goodbye. "Which
would you choose?"

"I cannot decide that for you," said Orome. "I can tell you that it
has greatly displeased my Lord Manwe that I have done what I have."

"I can see where Erestor gets it from," said Glorfindel.

Orome shrugged and grinned; it was the same sort of half-sheepish
expression Glorfindel had seen on Erestor. "The apple never falls far
from the tree."

To this Glorfindel frowned. "I think the apples on my father's tree
were full of worms."

"Perhaps you fell from your mother's tree," suggested Orome.
"Unfortunately, I must speed your decision. I must know your choice."

"It is hard for me to decide something so important in so little time.
I am sure that to you, my decision is insignificant. Who cares about
what happens to one little elf?"

"Not so," corrected Orome.

"How so? My death cannot be significant," Glorfindel assumed.

"Your death? Maybe not. It is your life that has meaning."

Glorfindel frowned, frustrated. "How? I have done nothing of great
importance, and if I return in such a state, I find it hard to believe
there is much more I could do."

"Know this: Whether you live or die, there will be an impact."

"What impact? Can you not tell me what awaits me?"

Orome smiled and shook his head. "I do not know all of what may
happen, I can only offer a glimpse into an uncertain future. If I do
that, your knowing may alter those possibilities, especially if you
choose to live."

"Only if I choose to live, I think. I sincerely doubt all the
enlightenment in the world would help me when I am dead."

"You make a valid point. I will offer you this: I will tell what I
know, and if you choose death you will remember my words. If you
choose life, for how long I cannot tell, you will awake with no memory
of our meeting."

"I can accept that," Glorfindel said finally, too curious and too
undecided not to take the offer.

"If you are returned now to your friends, they will take pity on you
and let you live a few hours in order for you to write down some
things which have been recently on your mind. They will give you
poisoned drink, and your passing is peaceful. When they return to the
city without you, there is outrage. Some think Turgon purposely
plotted to have you removed, and when Maeglin takes your seat in
council, a militia captures him and makes demands for his release.
Turgon will agree to their terms."

"What terms? What brings them to do that?" demanded Glorfindel when
Orome fell silent.

Orome shook his head. "You know all I do. Perhaps more. You must be
aware of some reason they would have to unite and side against your
king."

Glorfindel sighed. "My weary mind is not good at riddles tonight.
What of the other path?"

As Orome offered insight to the other outcome, the stag woke and
cantered about before settling down beside his master. The stag bowed
his head and rested it on Orome's lap, seeming much more like a tired
puppy than a magnificent deer. "And that is all I know," added Orome
once he had finished.

"My choice is clear to me now." Glorfindel shrugged off the furs and
while still on his knees bowed to Orome. "Thank you. I am ready to
go home now."

With a nod, Orome patted the stag's head. "Up, Nahar," he commanded,
and the stag rose upon his slender legs. "When you wake, you will
recall only leaving the cave and suddenly arriving in your city."

"Wait – I will not remember... what did you call him? Na..."

"Nahar. No. He will leave you in safety, but you will not remember
him, either." Orome helped Glorfindel to mount the creature and then
whispered some things in a strange language as he held his hand
against Glorfindel's forehead.

Already, Glorfindel could feel the thoughts and images fading away,
and he fought a yawn to stay aware. "As long as I am about to forget
everything," he said, rushing as he spoke, "what...what about your
son?" he asked between yawns. His mind was filling with questions he
felt he should have asked, such as why Orome was even in Middle-earth
in the first place, what was special about Tol Eressea, and what the
Valar were going to do about Morgoth, if anything. These questions
dissolved as quickly as they came, for Glorfindel was determined not
to forget the one he really wanted an answer to.

"What about him?"

"What about... I love him." Glorfindel hoped the words had the same
sincerity despite his yawning.

"I know. Why else would I have sent Nahar to aid you?"

"But... do I even... stand a chance?" His eyelids were heavy, eyes
watering, mind hazy. He barely knew who he was talking to anymore.

Vaguely, Glorfindel was aware of a hand on his shoulder. Who was it
again? Erestor? No, he had asked about Erestor... who was he asking
again?

A deep voice answered him. "Patience is a virtue, and one you possess
in great amounts. Erestor thinks he wants an elleth or a woman, but
his goal is shortsighted. He wants a family, and he believes this can
only be accomplished with someone who is female. For one so wise, he
can be very stubborn."

"But does he love me?" mumbled Glorfindel impatiently, half in a dream now.

"I think you know that answer already," said Orome. The last thing
Glorfindel heard before he slumped against the stag in darkness was
Orome call out to his faithful servant, "Noro lim, Nahar!"