Darkness, a small bed, two lean figures. Again, the same exercise, old as life itself, again, something they had done too many times recently. It was helping, but not as much as talk would. They were probably too afraid of the truth, both thinking that all this heaven would end if they spoke of what lay upon them. If it had not been for those precious moments, the torture would have been too great, they would probably have broken. The nights were saving them, bringing closeness to their bodies, bringing peace to their minds. Momentary peace, but peace.

They were lying bent like an arch, with the more distressed one in the middle, while the calmer one's body brought cover, for it was gently touching the entire back. Often, Glorfindel was the one in need in shelter but tonight, Erestor was breaking. As soon as darkness fell Erestor went to his room, while Glorfindel stayed a bit longer, talking to Elrond, worry on their faces. But he knew his beloved needed him. As he entered his room, he saw a tiny body crumbled on the bed, body tense with strain, sleepless, tearless. Without saying a word, the blond one slowly lay behind him, gently stroking his hair, caressing his back, until the tiny ball of his loved one opened out, positioning his entire body to fit the shape behind him. Before resting his head on the pillow, Glorfindel kissed the black hair, feeling the trembling in the other's body.

Darkness, a small bed, two lean figures, silence, neither could talk. Glorfindel placed his arm around Erestor's waist, playing his fingers on Erestor's belly, until the other stopped him, holding his fingers, and the two laid still as statues. Ithil was slowly moving through the night, his glow filling the small room, reflecting upon the delicate skin of the two elves. Glorfindel was visibly lighter than his lover, his body's light showing its power through the dark. He felt tears falling from Erestor's eyes.

"Speak," he whispered.

"No," Erestor cried in response.

"Erestor, we must…"

"No!" He held his saviour even tighter. "I cannot talk tonight; you ask too much."

"It is the same every night." Glorfindel kissed his ear and whispered even more gently. "It shall kill us, we must…"

"How can I…" The tears rushed even faster; Glorfindel felt them on his arm, "…say the words?" His voice broke.

"Say them to me, to the wind, to Ithil, to Eärendil, just say them…"

"You," he started. "I will say them to the one I love the most."

The two tortured souls lay still for a few more precious moments, two figures of divine beauty, divine but breakable, two most beautiful things to each other, two most breakable hearts.

Erestor could feel his heart break every time his lover was near, his elegant and gentle beauty, the face of a child, skin as delicate as that of a maiden; he seemed so vulnerable, so… mortal. Two most beautiful blue eyes, which observed with innocent curiosity, lips which explored so gently, hands which touched him as if he was dying; this was no warrior. This was a helpless being, so innocent, given to him to guard, to braid his hair in the morning, to kiss his cheeks before departure. So sweet and innocent; there was no strength Erestor could see. This was no mighty warrior; this was a warrior, reborn as a frail elf, and he couldn't, he wouldn't, believe that this soul was capable of killing. This was his beloved; he could not be more.

He seemed like the strong one, Erestor thought, not this… child. He knew all that there was to know, he controlled many lives, and not a bird sang in Imladris without him knowing. Others would disappear from corridors if he walked them; no one dared to disturb his work. He had the control and obligations no one needed, a burden few could bear. Everything in his life was well known and organized but his heart, which belonged to his love, his peace, his… fear.

"I have known you for so long," Erestor started, feeling sweet kisses on his neck, "and not until today did I believe all…" Glorfindel held him more tightly in his tears, "…that you really are."

Glorfindel moved from his lover, not holding him so tightly anymore, leaning over him, cleaning salty tears with fingers from the pale face, while the dark eyes still looked away.

"Beloved…" Glorfindel started, tasting the salty tears from his lover's cheeks, "you already know everything."

"But I never saw it!" Erestor pleaded. "When I have seen you, these last few days, with Frodo here…" He stopped, for he was being kissed, Glorfindel's lips on his skin, comforting. He still could not connect the sweet face with its bearer. "… the Ring… what it does to you…"

"What did you see, nîn vain, that you never knew before?" Glorfindel's voice was gentle.

Erestor had difficulty finding the words, so he turned to face the blond, just so he could be crushed once again by the sight. He tried, over and over again, saying to himself that his lover was far older than him, wiser, stronger, far more powerful. Not many bore his power, and yet he couldn't believe it; the thought itself was senseless, the child whose every layer he had explored every day, century after century, sweet hands that touched with such love, hands that could kill entire hordes of orcs before they had even see it, a thought he had heard many times, but never believed. He was so powerful; Erestor could see it now, shining like a star in the dead of night, glaur stronger than ever. What did he know now, indeed?

He spoke with terror in his voice, looking with empty eyes to an elf he loved more than life. "Your destiny." The words echoed in the night, making Glorfindel close his eyes, making Glorfindel shed his tears, for he was aware of everything, and his fears gained shape.

"I see it every night." Erestor's voice was cold, emotionless. "Even sleep abandoned me, fears; I cannot find peace in your arms any more." He sat, for Glorfindel's arms held him no more and terrified look overcame the gentleness and the love that had always been there in Glorfindel's face before. Maybe for the first time, Erestor realized all the burdens his lover bore. He saw darkness in his eyes, his age and fears, his longings, his commands, his fights, not the stories to which he would listen as they smiled in the evenings with a bottle of wine, but real events, his kin slayed, death before him. He was terrified, and understood completely why Glorfindel feared to touch now. "You see I do not sleep, for the nightmares that bother me, I see all your future days". Now it was Erestor's turn to act, he touched the salty tears which ran freely over the golden cheeks, and one golden hand touched his, fingers tangling, as the beauty before him sat, so their heads were in the same level.

Glorfindel didn't let him continue, for his love urged him to hold the thin body tight. "Please, don't come so close," he whispered, but disobeyed his own plea, as the two moved into a strong embrace. At least he talked, he thought, at least they both knew now.

It was an eternity, a sweet eternity that they were allowed to have, wordless promises of love, motionless touches, eternity ahead of them, at least for a night.

"You know the Ring better than any of us," Erestor whispered into his lover's ear. "You know it maybe even as well as its Lord himself; you were brought back for it…"

"Don't speak now," Glorfindel pleaded through his tears.

"I must!" he cried. "Now, I must." He felt loving arms hold him even tighter; such strength was in those little arms, which he had touched so many times, slept in them, kissed them, cried on them, felt their embrace over and over again, and now they were so strong, arms that had held a sword far more often than a lover's body. "You will leave, follow the call of the One Ring, with your only wish to see it destroyed; you will be prepared to give your life for that task," Erestor's voice predicted between cries and sighs.

"Shh." Glorfindel held his head, looking him straight in the eyes, gently moving his fingers through the black hair. No words followed this look; none were needed.

Erestor closed his eyes; he had to escape that look, that worry, that love, and in a final cry burst the hardest words he had ever had to say. "Do you know how many times I saw you die?!" Dreadful cries filled the air, his body trembling in synchrony with them, as Glorfindel placed the sobbing head on his shoulder, stroking the dark hair, holding him close, letting him weep all his tears away.

The slender body was breaking down so fast under his arms, and he did not know how to stop it. He could only hold him tightly, his heart breaking with sorrow, tears choking him, not letting him say a single word.

Anor was slowly rising as Glorfindel realized that the dark elf was sleeping, trembling, although the night was warm. He placed Erestor's beautiful face on a pillow, covered his beautiful body with blankets, and kissed his beautiful lips one last time before deciding to join him in his dreams.

For the first time he understood Erestor's suffering, for he dreamt of things to come, of what would happen if he didn't follow the path that was set before him. He was sent back for one purpose only, to secure the fall of the Ring, and he was granted powers beyond measure to make this come to pass, but he had a weakness beyond measure that made him linger here. If he left, he would die, but whilst helping the Nine achieve their goal. If he remained, the Nine would be killed, one by one, and the Ring passed to its owner, and they would all be killed; Erestor would be killed.

Screams woke him up, his beloved's screams. He held the cold body, kissing him to kissing him awake. Erestor awoke yelling for him not to leave; he, too, knew that this would be their last moment. Glorfindel was to leave this day, his heart spoke. Glorfindel knew now for sure the terrors that would come if he listened to his beloved; he saw fire and shadow, fear and screams, as life was slowly taken from this place - but he also knew the despair in Erestor's heart if he left.

Erestor knew it all too well; he knew selfishness, he hated himself for it all, but it could not be helped. When the veil of sleep disappeared, he found himself covered in kisses and sweet words, not believing he would never hear them again. He was not allowed to plead; he shouldn't ask anything of this perfect being, and yet he couldn't help it. If Glorfindel stayed, everything would be in vain, and they would all die eventually; it would be insane to allow such destruction. He shouldn't even consider that option.

"If you ask it, I will not leave," Glorfindel spoke, needing to hear any words from the waking elf.

Erestor looked at him, the innocent face looking back; that child would grow in time, fulfilling his destiny, rising among the greatest one more time, dying once more, not knowing when and if he'd return to his arms. If he asked him to stay, he would doom life itself, and yet, what if there was still hope? That was a lie, Erestor knew it, but his heart could not let go. Imladris in flame, everything destroyed, over a small lie. He was willing to die, even let Glorfindel die, if they were together, but all the other deaths were not his call. A tiny hope, a lie, but still…

And yet, his heart ached, worse than a million deaths.

"No." He held the golden body with such strength, with immeasurable fear. "I cannot let you go."

Sindarin translations:

Nîn vain - My beautiful

Glaur - Golden light