8: Leaving Mandos

"Glorfindel."

Glorfindel looked up from the flower bed where he had been weeding all morning to see Olórin standing there, smiling. The elf smiled back.

Olórin was pleased at what he saw. The days that followed Yavanna’s visit had brought a remarkable change in the ellon. He would never be a gardener but some of his earlier awkwardness and ineptness with regards to working in the garden had disappeared. He seemed more content than he had been before.

He had also managed to keep his clothes on whenever he worked outside, though in the evenings he preferred not to wear anything after taking his bath. Olórin allowed him this one idiosyncracy, but insisted that the elf at least put a robe on if he wished to go outside to see the stars.

Yes, the elf’s progress had been remarkable and now it was time for him to move on.

"There’s someone here to see you, child. Come, put your tools away and go clean up."

"Who’s come to see me?" Glorfindel asked even as he began to comply with the Maia’s instructions.

"I think I’ll let our visitor introduce himself to you," Olórin said with a small smile.

Intrigued, Glorfindel hurried to do as the Maia had bid and soon he was following Olórin towards a small terrace where Glorfindel often took his meals. Potted plants surrounded the flag-stoned area and an arbor provided shade. One of the chairs at the small table under the arbor was occupied.

Glorfindel stopped in shock at the edge of the terrace and bowed, unaware that Olórin was no longer beside him.

"Ah, I see our Balrog-slayer is coming along quite nicely." The voice was warm and deep, laughter lurking around the edges. "Come closer, child, and let me see you."

Glorfindel straightened and, after a moment’s hesitation, complied, trembling slightly as he stood before the Vala. The Elder King of Arda sat under the arbor in a robe of shifting colors that shaded from cerulean to indigo to violet to dusky rose and back again in no discernable pattern. He wore no crown. Instead, a wreath of yellow and purple helinyetilli graced his head. The Elder King smiled warmly at the ellon standing before him.

This was a different image from what Glorfindel recalled of their last meeting. The last time Glorfindel had seen Lord Manwë had been within the circle of the Máhanaxar and he had not been smiling then.

"Ah, you remember that, don’t you?" Manwë asked gently.

Glorfindel could only nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Manwë smiled. "Good. That’s good."

Glorfindel looked at the Elder King in surprise. "It is?" he blurted out and the Vala laughed.

The ellon found himself grinning in spite of himself. Manwë’s laugh was rich and joyous and all who heard it could not help but be moved to laughter as well.

"Oh yes, indeed, my dear child." Manwë sobered somewhat, though the joy remained in his eyes, which were a deep blue with a ring of gold around the pupils. "The time of judgment is usually the last memory that is restored to the Reborn. It is not always a pleasant memory and for some the judgment after death is more frightening than the death itself. I think you can agree." The Elder King eyed the golden-haired elf shrewdly.

Glorfindel shuddered, remembering what had passed within the Ring of Doom. He hoped never to suffer such humiliation again.

"Humiliation?" Manwë asked gently, reading the elf’s thoughts. "Nay, child, though it may seem that way to you. We do not judge to humiliate but to instruct. Nor do we do it out of a need for vengeance, but out of love for our wayward children."

"We’re not children," Glorfindel countered, appalled by his own audacity, but not able to stop himself from speaking his mind.

"Think you not?" Manwë smiled. "Well, perhaps you aren’t, except where it matters the most. Now come." The Elder King stood and started down a garden path, one that Glorfindel was sure had never existed before.

"Wh-where are we going?" he asked breathlessly, trying to keep up, for Manwë’s strides were long and purposeful.

"Why, to your new home, of course."

Glorfindel stopped, feeling suddenly frightened. Manwë turned to see the ellon standing there white-faced and shaking. He smiled sympathetically.

"You’ve grown too large for this small garden, child. Time to move on." He held out his hand and after a brief moment of hesitation, Glorfindel took it. Together Vala and Elda walked hand-in-hand through the garden to a wooden gate Glorfindel had never seen before.

On the other side of the gate stood a great horse. Glorfindel gasped at the sight of the steed shining white as the snows of Taniquetil, its eyes bright with intelligence and curiosity.

Manwë smiled at the sight of the elf standing there with his mouth opened in astonishment. "His name is Asfaloth and he will bear you to Lórien."

"Me?" Glorfindel asked as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

"Yes, you. Now, why don’t you say hello?" Manwë opened the gate.

Glorfindel stepped outside and put his hand on the horse’s forehead and gently stroked him, speaking softly. Asfaloth returned the greeting by nuzzling the elf’s hair. Glorfindel laughed as he climbed onto the horse’s back, memories of earlier times on horseback filling him. He looked down at Manwë with a grin and then realized that Olórin had not followed them to the gate.

"Where’s Olórin? Will he not be coming with me?"

"He will not," Manwë answered. "Did he not tell you that he has other charges besides yourself? Yes, I thought as much," he added when Glorfindel nodded. "But do not fret. You will see him again from time to time. Now off with you."

Glorfindel, however, could not resist one last question. His eyes twinkled with humor as he looked down at the Elder King. "How do you know I won’t just ride off with this fine beast to some remote area of Aman, never to be seen again?" He patted Asfaloth on the neck.

Manwë’s laugh was rich and deep and there was the echo of Another’s laughter that sent a frisson of awe down Glorfindel’s spine. "Such impudence! No wonder Námo finds you so amusing. But to answer your question: Asfaloth knows better than to allow a mere elfling such as yourself to distract him from his duties. He will deliver you to the Gates of Lórien and nowhere else."

With that, the Elder King nodded to the horse who whinnied, dipping his head in obeisance to his lord and they were off. Glorfindel gave a crow of delight at the feel of the horse’s muscles under him. He looked back to wave to Manwë but, to his surprise, both the Elder King and the garden were no longer there.

They rode past green hills and through lush meadows full of wildflowers — yellow daisies and blue periwinkles as well as bright elanor and pale niphredil. They met no one on the way nor were there any signs of habitation.

How long the ride lasted, Glorfindel could not say, but all too soon they came to a high hedge of dark yew. Asfaloth halted before a gate made of living vines. Glorfindel climbed down from the horse’s back and looked at the entrance with some trepidation. He had expected to be met, but there was no one. Asfaloth gave the elf a nudge towards the gate as if to say "There is your road now, elfling."

Glorfindel stroked the horse’s forehead and kissed it. "Thank you for letting me ride you, Asfaloth. I hope we will meet again."

The horse gave a neigh and with a toss of its head galloped away. For a long time Glorfindel stood there watching the great horse until he was too far away for even elven eyes to see clearly and then he turned back to the gate. As he approached, wondering how he was to pass through the vines, they moved aside of their own accord and Glorfindel found himself surrounded by high hedges with but a single path opened to him. The vines returned to their former position and when Glorfindel turned around he found he could no longer see where he had entered. He swallowed nervously and turned back, and found that now there were three paths before him. His heart sank with despair.

He was in a maze and he had no idea which path to choose.

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Helinyetilli: (Quenya) Eyes of Heartsease; a name of the pansy (viola tricolor).