FIC: Unforgettable - Book 3, Chapter 17

[zhie]

Unforgettable
by Zhie
Rated NC17 for the entire thing
This part, R for language
Book 3; Chapter 17 of bunches
Overall part 79
All about Glorfindel and Erestor, and lots of other Gondolin folk
But, mostly them
Archived at Phoenix - http://phoenix.zhie.us



"Maybe he did find an eagle to take him back." It was the first thing
Rog had said to Erestor in many days.

"Thank you." Erestor came across terser than he planned to, but after
several hours day after day of enduring accusing glares and muttered
insults he felt less than vindicated.

The task had been a weary one, but not quite as horrible as imagined.
Instead of staggering soldiers, the most they had found were bodies
littering the way home. They had burned them all and left no evidence
in their wake, but since neither would speak to the other until now it
had been taxing.

The break was short-lived. "He might have also been eaten by wolves,"
added Rog.

Now it was Erestor's turn to glare. When he turned back, however, he
stopped abruptly. "No, not wolves."

"Maybe not wolves, but there are always..." Rog frowned, for Erestor
was now running towards the city, which could not be seen but was not
far away. He looked beyond Erestor and saw a familiar figure hobbling
on ahead. Raising his gaze into the skies, Rog said, "He must have
the favor of one of you."

It was easy for Erestor to catch up to Glorfindel, who was pulling
himself along using a tree branch to lean on. "Here," offered Erestor
in an attempt to put his arm around Glorfindel to aid him. Glorfindel
stumbled away and shook his head.

"I can... do this." Glorfindel grunted with every step and panted
heavily. His shirt was soaked through front and back with sweat and
his hair was matted. To be honest, he hardly looked like himself, but
Erestor had known it was him. "Almost... there."

Erestor nodded and though he did not aid Glorfindel, he walked in step
beside him in case he should fall. "We were worried when you left.
You must have walked night and day to return ahead of us."

"Not... sure." Glorfindel took a moment to wipe the sweat from his
forehead before it dripped into his eyes and then continued.
"Cannot... remember."

"You must have been delirious," reasoned Erestor. Glorfindel stumbled
and hit the ground with one knee. He used the branch to bring himself
back to his feet. Again, Erestor reached forward to help the other
warrior, but Glorfindel shook his head adamantly.

"No." He closed his eyes as he caught his breath and then stepped
forward. "My... battle."

Before Erestor could protest, a hand fell heavily upon his shoulder.
"Hold back. He needs to get there ahead of us."

It was painful for Erestor to watch as Glorfindel continued forward
while he and Rog stayed far back. "What if one of us went ahead and
brought out a healer."

"Not until he gets into the city. He is gravely injured, there is no
need to hurt his pride as well. We have time."

Erestor nodded, thankful for this small blessing from Rog.
Technically, if Rog had still been set on the mission Turgon had given
him, he could have killed Glorfindel even so close to the city.
Erestor busied himself by rereading the letters he had collected while
still keeping a watchful eye on Glorfindel in case he should need to
intervene. Perhaps that was why Rog had allowed this deviation – if
Rog tried anything now, Erestor was sure that he would protect
Glorfindel by any means necessary.

"Did he say how he managed to get back? Any eagles involved?"

Rog's voice startled Erestor, and he quickly put away the note he was
currently reading. "No, not from what little he said." They were now
within the gates. Each time a warden at one of the towers would begin
to climb down to aid Glorfindel, Rog would signal for them to return
to their posts. "He seems not to remember very much."

"It will come back to him," answered Rog. "I doubt your eagle theory."

Erestor wearily rubbed the back of his hand against his eyelids.
"Fine. Maybe it was the raccoons."

"What raccoons?"

"Nevermind." They continued their slow march behind Glorfindel, and
when he made his first step onto the green of Gondolin, both of them
hurried forward.

Rog reached Glorfindel first, his entire attitude seeming to change as
he gently slid an arm under Glorfindel's and took the branch away from
him. He looked over his shoulder at Erestor and barked orders. "He
needs to see a healer. Go find one. Now." Rog helped Glorfindel to
sit down just inside the final gate while Erestor dumped the gear he
was carrying so that he could run faster. "Congratulations. You made
it."

"Thank you." Glorfindel relaxed against the cool stones and ignored
the pain as much as he could. Officially, he was back in Gondolin,
and although the thought should have comforted him, it seemed not to.
It was a nervous moment when Rog held a flask to his lips, but he
drank even with the thought of it being poison on his mind. He was
falling asleep again by the time Erestor returned with one of the
healers, who looked worn out and in need of rest herself.

"Oh no... Lord Glorfindel!" The healer dropped down to her knees
beside him, and even in his delirium Glorfindel recognized her as
being the young lady who had previously been employed by Enerdhil.

"I think I hurt myself," explained Glorfindel while the healer tore
open the front of his already ragged shirt to get a better look at his
injuries. "Big dragon. Hit me with his tail. Broke some stuff I
might need later."

"My word... did you walk back like this?" The healer looked from
Glorfindel's face, to his arm, to his chest, where the bruises were
fading but still visible from his collarbone down to his pelvis.
There was no doubt she was having trouble deciding where to begin.
"You should really be in the city. The light is poor out here and I
need more supplies than I have with me." She looked up at Erestor and
Rog. "Can one of you carry him?"

"No. I made it here on my own, I will make it to my sick bed on my
own." Glorfindel winced as he pulled himself up from the ground.
"You lead. I will follow as fast as I can."

"At least let me aid you a little, Glorfindel," offered Erestor, but
Rog put his hand on his son-in-law's shoulder.

"Leave him. He wants to do this on his own. Let him."

Glorfindel almost reconsidered after the first step, but the thought
of walking into the city being supported by someone else was not
appealing to him. Others would see him and he had some notion that he
had to appear strong to the people with all that had happened. Step
by step, teeth clenched the entire way, Glorfindel made it up the
road, through the emptying marketplace and into the courtyard. It was
then that he remembered the steps, all seven flights of them to the
floor he lived on.

"How are things in the tower?" asked Erestor, having the same thought
as Glorfindel at the same time. "I imagine it is hectic to say the
least."

"Indeed," admitted the healer. "If you can avoid going there, I would
suggest it."

Erestor nodded. "We have a friend who lives nearby." He turned to
Glorfindel and said, "Perhaps we can use his house for a few days
until you recover."

"Ecthelion lives the other way," said Glorfindel as Erestor turned
around and began to walk back toward the market. "He is also nearly a
mile down the road."

"I was not thinking of Ecthelion." Erestor pointed at the house
nearest to the tower, whose spires of silver and black contrasted with
an odd beauty. "I very much doubt there is anyone in his house who is
in need of a bed at the moment."

Glorfindel might have objected when he considered who he might find
there and the odd parting they had had, had he not been so keen to lie
down. "If you think Salgant will welcome us, then yes. Let us go
there."

The trip to the doors of Salgant's house was easier than climbing the
stairs would have been. The large silver knocker made their presence
known and when Thrangorn opened the door he took hold of the silver
cord without saying a word and pulled it three times. A bell rang,
and the butler made a sweeping motion with his hand. "Do come in.
The master will be down in a moment."

A moment, for Salgant, was really closer to ten minutes, during which
time the healer tended to the wound on Glorfindel's cheek. She had to
slice it open again and apply a poultice, for although the wound had
healed yet again it was now badly infected underneath. "I fear this
is going to leave a scar for a while," she said quietly as Salgant
made his way down the steps.

"My comrades, you have returned! I hear rumors that the war was not
so glorious despite the king's official statements to the people, and
I wished to consult with others who were there about—" Salgant
stopped when he saw the state that Glorfindel was in.

"I am certain we will have time to speak later. At the moment, I must
make request that you allow Lord Glorfindel a room within your home,
preferably upon the ground floor. He was gravely injured in battle."

Erestor's plea to Salgant sounded much more sincere than his speech
had been to the people mere months ago. Salgant simply nodded and
looked at his butler. "I assume we have a guest room available and
ready?"

"Of course, sir. Right this way, if you please, your lordships."
Thrangorn hurried down a hallway, pausing frequently to allow for the
others to catch up. Double doors were pushed open with flourish, and
a suite of rooms was displayed to them. "The master bedroom is
located straight ahead. I will have fresh towels brought in
immediately, and anything else that you might require."

"I will need water, some warm and some boiling," said the healer. "If
you have any bandages, and silk thread, I may be in need of those as
well." The butler bowed his head and disappeared once again.

Salgant entered the room just after Glorfindel and the healer. "I
will have a maid come in to open the curtains and freshen up the
sitting room."

"He needs the bed more than the sitting room right now," replied
Erestor pointedly.

Salgant rolled his eyes and stopped, blocking the way for Erestor and
Rog. "Not for him, for you. Unless the two of you are going to leave
him here and collect him later on."

"Actually, I do need to go. My wife will wring my neck if I do not
seek her out, now that Glorfindel is in capable hands." Rog expressed
his thanks to his cousin before bidding farewell.

This left Salgant and Erestor alone at the doorway. "Should I forgo
calling for a maid, or will you be staying?"

"If you would allow me, I would like to stay for a little while at
least. Sorry," apologized Erestor. "I misunderstood."

"Hmmph." Salgant waddled into the bedroom, where the healer was
instructing Glorfindel to lie down upon the bed. "I will have the
maid bring fresh sheets as well. I have a notion that you are about
to bloody up the ones that are currently on the bed."

"I shall try my best not to," promised the healer, sounding quite
weary. "Now, if everyone would be so kind to clear out of the room, I
would appreciate it."

Glorfindel disliked being left alone with the healer, but the
alternative of continuing to hurt did not appeal to him either. He
did as he was told as he was prodded and poked and answered the
question 'Does it hurt when I do this?' more times than he could
count. Eventually, he found himself propped up in the bed, with his
injured arm bandaged and in a sling, bandages wrapped around his
chest, and a headache that attacked every time he turned to the right.

"If you can sleep like this, it will be better for you than sleeping
flat on your back," explained the healer. "It probably feels a little
uncomfortable, but this way you will not have to sit up every time you
need to eat or drink or speak to someone. It will help with the
healing to keep you stationary as much as possible. You have a lot of
broken ribs. More than I have seen one anyone who could still walk.
Do not take that the wrong way; it is not that I think you are going
to die because of it. I think, because of your strength and
determination you stand a good chance of pulling through."

After thanking the healer, Glorfindel took the sedative he was given
and promptly fell asleep, finally at ease in his reverie for the first
time since the battle.

As the healer exited the bedroom, she found Erestor pacing and
mumbling to himself. "Excuse me? If you wish to see him you can, but
he is resting and I would advise not waking him. Only a few minutes,
though. He needs the rest."

"Of course." Erestor hurried into the room and stopped at the foot of
the bed. He approached slowly. There was a chair in the corner which
he carried around and set next to the bed on the side that Glorfindel
was sleeping.

He did not sit down. Instead he stood over Glorfindel and watched the
labored breathing that appeared to be the direct cause of Glorfindel's
distress. When he finally dared look at his friend's face, he saw
that Glorfindel's mouth was open slightly to aid in breathing. His
eyes were closed, which concerned Erestor greatly. He reached down
and drew his fingers through the mangled mane, but when they snagged
he withdrew so that he would not wake Glorfindel.

Erestor checked to be sure no one had followed him in before he knelt
beside the bed. Glorfindel's right arm was uninjured and draped over
the blanket. Gently, Erestor slid his hand under Glorfindel's, and
sadly sighed when Glorfindel's fingers curled weakly around his even
in reverie.

"I want you to get better," he whispered. "I need you to," insisted
Erestor. "If you... if something happens to you..." Absently his
thumb was caressing the back of Glorfindel's hand. "I would go
absolutely insane without you."

In the adjoining room, Erestor could hear the door open and the rustle
of linens. He lifted Glorfindel hand and pressed his lips against the
cold, pale flesh. "Sleep well." He stood quickly and left the room
before the maid could witness the scene.

---

The next morning, Glorfindel found that his arm hurt less, but now his
neck was sore. The throbbing in his head was less, but painfully
constant. His stomach was sour, and there was an acrid taste in his
mouth.

"Good morning, m'lord. Is there anything I can get for you?"

Glorfindel looked up, squinting to see if it was someone he knew.
"Who are you?"

"I am Neralien. Lord Salgant asked me to keep watch over you until
you awoke, and told me that I should fetch you anything you required."

"Where is my wife?" It was not the question that Glorfindel wanted to
ask, but it was the one that seemed most appropriate, considering how
long he had been in the city and not seen Tauniel. It was also quite
possible that Tauniel would be with Aranel, and Aranel with Erestor,
and potentially lead to discovering what he really wanted to know.

"She was here last night for a long time. I believe she was going to
return this afternoon, along with your tall friend. You know, that
actor everyone is fond of. I hope he plans to do another play now
that the war is over. I really meant to ask for his autograph, but
last night seemed the wrong time and place." Neralien moved to the
windows and pulled back the drapes, allowing the light to flood into
the room. The master bedroom, learned Glorfindel, was much more
spacious than the bedroom he and Erestor shared. What was more, there
was a cat nestled next to his feet. When he wiggled his toes, he was
swatted playfully. The cat rolled onto his side and curled his paw
over one of Glorfindel's ankles. "I hope you do not mind the little
ones," said Neralien when she saw what Glorfindel was looking at.
"They tend to run the place."

"No, they do not bother me." Glorfindel blinked until his eyes
adjusted to the light, and shook his head when Neralien made the offer
to bring something to him. "I think I just want to keep resting."

"Should I close the curtains?"

"No... I think I would just like to... think." Glorfindel laughed to
hear himself say this. "Do you know what I mean?"

"You wish some time with your thoughts. Lord Salgant requests the
same often, usually when he is composing. If you decide upon
something, please ring the bell that is on the table. It will fetch
me immediately."

"Thank you." Glorfindel let out a sigh once she had left, though his
time alone was short. Salgant appeared in the doorway not long after.
Glorfindel made his apologies before Salgant could even say good day.
"I am sorry about intruding unexpectedly. It was Erestor's idea."

"It is not an intrusion, really. I help you, you help me." Salgant
entered the room and checked over the items there. He made sure that
the water in the pitcher was adequately cold and that there was a
supply of clean bandages for the healer to use later if she needed to
change the dressing on Glorfindel's wounds. "Everyone returning had
been avoiding me and my house, since from their perspective we did not
join in the war. I have been called traitor and coward and various
other names since the day everyone left. They seem not to realize
that someone had to stay here, to protect them and to protect Idril.
Your coming here showed that you at least have some faith in what I
did, even if it really was just Erestor's idea for you to stay here."

"You are correct. Someone had to stay here. If it had not been you,
it would have been someone else."

"Exactly, and Enerdhil has been useless. He carried on as if there
was no war at all. You should have been here for the midsummer
scandal," added Salgant with an air of displeasure.

Glorfindel craned his neck to the side and reached his right hand
around, rubbing it unsuccessfully. "Scandal?"

Salgant sat down on the mattress. "Mmmhmm. Nasty bit of business
that did not fall well with the king. Sit up and let me help you with
that."

Abruptly, Glorfindel paused and gave Salgant an odd look. "Uh..."

"I give very good massages. You can ask Duilin if you doubt me.
Duilin!" Salgant waited until the slender ellon appeared in the
doorway, reading and eating an apple at the same time. It seemed that
he had likely been in the sitting room their entire conversation.
"Tell him what marvelous things I can do with my hands."

Duilin looked over the top of his book, one brow cocked upward as he
took another bite of his apple. "Must I? We shall have our own
scandal on our hands."

"Massages, you pervert. Let him know how gifted I am." Salgant
looked back at Glorfindel, seemingly forgetting he had prodded Duilin
to answer the question. "Playing harp has helped immensely. I can
give such soothing rubs. Let me help you sit up a little more and I
will show you."

"Uh..." Glorfindel gave Duilin a worried look. The Lord of the House
of the Swallow turned on his heel and walked back into the sitting
room. "I think maybe Duilin would rather you do not. He seems
particular about who you touch," he added, recalling the incident in
the theatre with Erestor and Salgant.

"I do not care if he touches you," shouted Duilin. "I just do not
want Erestor touching him."

Salgant aided Glorfindel in sitting up with his back straight, and
then repositioned himself to better get his hand around the back of
Glorfindel's neck. At first, Glorfindel was uneasy about the entire
idea, but Salgant's fingers truly felt magical and he relaxed soon
after. "See? What did I tell you?"

"Mmmhmm." Glorfindel closed his eyes, trying to imagine it was
Erestor and not Salgant soothing his aching neck. It was difficult,
since Salgant's hand, though roughly the size of Erestor's, was soft
and pudgy instead of being strong and firm.

"When Neralien returns, I shall have her bring some shears."

"What for?" asked Glorfindel, his voice soft and relaxed.

"Have you taken a good look in a mirror lately?" Salgant continued to
rub Glorfindel's neck, but used his other hand to lift up a chunk of
blond hair for his viewing. "Something charred the ends terribly bad.
It reeks, some of it is beyond brushing, and I fear it is not very
fashionable."

"Oh, fuck." Glorfindel mourned the state of his brittle mane,
watching as some of the ends broke off between Salgant's fingers. "I
suppose Rog will get his wish after all."

"See what Neralien can do before you write it off as a total loss."
Salgant concentrated his efforts once again on making Glorfindel relax
now that he was more nervous than before.

Neralien returned, left after receiving Salgant's instructions, and
returned again with the healer who had stopped in to check on
Glorfindel. Bandages and dressings were changed, and she left after
leaving a supply of painkillers with Salgant in case Glorfindel should
have need for any. While Neralien changed the sheets, Glorfindel was
helped into the sitting room, where Duilin did what he could to
salvage the majority of Glorfindel's namesake.

In the end, after twenty minutes of tedious and careful snipping,
Glorfindel permitted it be cut straight across to the point where the
last of the damage reached. He flinched when he heard the sound of
the metal blades scraping against one another. Great clumps of burnt
hair fell onto the floor. Each successive pass made Glorfindel more
anxious, until he was gripping the chair he sat on. The cold metal
touched his neck, and briefly he panicked at the notion and almost
called for them to stop, but the scissors were moved lower and closed
before he had the chance, chewing through another chunk of blond and
burned mane.

Duilin cut straight across to the other side this time, and after
finger combing through, set the scissors down. "It will probably seem
shorter than it really is, Glorfindel. I did not realize how wavy
your hair is."

"He needs a higher fringe in front," said Salgant. "It is going to
look awful and untidy the way it is now."

"I would rather not have any more cut off," pleaded Glorfindel, but
Duilin was already reaching for the scissors again.

"Hold still for just another minute," said Duilin. He parted
Glorfindel's hair and then quickly, but evenly (which Glorfindel was
thankful for) trimmed away the hair that hung down into Glorfindel's
eyes. "You are right, Salgant, that does look much better."

As Neralien entered the sitting room, she tisked at the trio she found
there. "Next time, put a towel down, or at the very least roll up the
carpet. This is going to take forever to clean up, my lord." Out she
disappeared again, only to return with a broom in hand. "The sheets
have been changed, if you would like to lie down again, Lord
Glorfindel." Neralien at once began to sweep up the shorn strands,
dumping them into a waste bin near the door.

"Thank you." Again, with the aid of Salgant and Duilin, Glorfindel
made his way across the room and back into the bedroom. "Will you be
offended if I slept again?"

"Of course not. When you wake up, though, I am sending Neralien in to
feed you. Part of your trouble with not healing is that you were
forced to sustain yourself on nothing more than that dry waybread.
You need better nourishment than that." Salgant motioned for Duilin
to close the draperies again, leaving the room dark except for the
slits of light that peeked through now and again at the sides of the
windows. "Sleep well."

Glorfindel spent the next two hours restlessly trying to find a
comfortable position to sleep in. Every time he readjusted himself,
he found that something else hurt more. When he spied the medicine
that had been left on the table, he poured a glass of water and took
all three doses that had been set out. He was asleep in minutes.