Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

92: Sword-Brother to the Maiar

"Did you have a good run, best beloved?" Námo asked as Glorfindel approached.

"Yes, I did," the ellon said somewhat shyly. Then, he turned to Valandur. "Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have called you... what I did."

Valandur nodded. "And I’m sorry that I... upset you the way I did. It was not my intent... well, not solely my intent," he amended giving a glance at Lord Námo that Glorfindel could not interpret.

Námo merely nodded. "That’s settled then. I think, Glorfindel, you should try to forget what happened and concentrate on why you are here in the first place."

Glorfindel gave the Vala a somewhat sour look. "Why am I here?"

"To learn," was Námo’s only reply.

"Learn what?" Glorfindel practically shouted in frustration, all his good humor fled at what he saw as Valarin intransigence in refusing to give answers that made sense. Valandur gave the ellon an appraising look.

If the Lord of Mandos was upset at the elf’s histrionics, he didn’t show it, instead he smiled (smugly, Glorfindel would have said had anyone asked him). "That is for you to find out." With that, the Vala faded away, leaving Glorfindel seething. Valandur decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

"The first thing you need to learn, my young friend," the older elf said as he put an arm around the ellon’s shoulders and pulled a reluctant Glorfindel towards the palace, "is not to antagonize a Vala. They’re a touchy lot at best. Never know which way they’re going to jump."

Glorfindel found himself snickering in spite of himself, some of his previous humor returning. "That’s what they say about us."

Valandur smiled knowingly. "Do they now?"

Glorfindel nodded, then stopped, his expression guarded. "What am I suppose to learn?"

"What do you want to learn?" came the surprising reply.

Glorfindel shrugged and looked down, suddenly unsure of himself. "I don’t know."

"Well, why don’t you think about it," Valandur said encouragingly, "and, when you’ve decided, you let me know."

Glorfindel looked up and seeing the warmth of understanding and acceptance in the older elf’s eyes, smiled back and nodded. "I’ll do that."

****

Over the next few days Glorfindel did think about it but came to no real conclusions. In the meantime, he was expected to join the other junior courtiers in attending Ingwë when the High King held court or during those council sessions when the topics of discussion were not of a sensitive nature. It was very much like Arafinwë’s court in that respect and Glorfindel fell into the routine of it readily enough.

He was often seen in the company of Elessairon, Lómion and Alassiel, though the elleth’s own duties as a member of Ingwë’s family kept her too busy to be with him as often as they would both like. This was especially so since her grandparents’ arrest and Ingwion’s absence. Ingwë began to rely on her and her mother more and more. In fact, Lirulin seemed to thrive now that her husband’s parents were no longer about and she proved to be a shrewd administrator and councillor and Ingwë welcomed her to his councils.

Glorfindel also began to take on more responsibilities, his memories of his days in Gondolin as one of Turgon’s trusted councillors coming more and more to the fore. That was not always a good thing, though. One day, while listening to a council session with the other junior courtiers, he suddenly found himself back in Turgon’s high council chamber that overlooked the city and the Court of the Trees. Late spring had replaced early winter. Turgon had summoned his captains to discuss a matter of security some time after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, for Turgon knew that Morgoth was now aware of him and would be searching for him and his hidden kingdom.

"No, Turgon," Glorfindel said, leaping from his chair, beginning to pace around the council chamber in his agitation. "I do not trust in Maeglin’s words. There has been greater activity of orcs roaming the Echoriath searching for us, not less. Has not Thorondor said as much? We need to strengthen our defenses and keep better vigilance."

"What do you propose then, my lord Glorfindel?"

That was Ecthelion, sitting near the King. Glorfindel glanced at his friend and smiled. "What I have always proposed, Ecthelion: trust in Lord Tuor’s words, for did not Lord Ulmo send him to us for a purpose? I fear that we will all rue the day that we ignored the words of the Lord of Waters." He looked pointedly at Turgon at that and was surprised to see a grim smile on the king’s face, for always before, whenever Glorfindel mentioned Lord Ulmo and his message, Turgon’s expression had darkened, though he never reprimanded the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower for voicing his views.

Turgon smiling wasn’t what had happened on that particular day, though, Glorfindel suddenly realized. Turgon had actually...

A wave of dizziness swept through him and then he felt arms holding him up and he found himself staring into Ingwë’s concerned face. He looked about him in confusion to see expressions ranging from mild consternation to downright disgust on the faces of senior councillors and junior courtiers alike. He turned back to Ingwë, suddenly unsure what had happened.

"M-my lord?" he whispered.

"That was quite a speech you gave, youngling," Ingwë said with a smile.

"S-speech?"

Ingwë nodded, releasing Glorfindel. "Luckily, Valandur understands Sindarin and was able to translate for us."

Glorfindel turned to see his mentor sitting where...

"Ecthelion," he said in a hoarse voice. "I called you Ecthelion."

Valandur nodded. "So it seemed. You were obviously not here and when you suddenly stood up and began speaking in Sindarin, addressing the king by a different name..."

"Turgon," Glorfindel said, turning white, his expression becoming blank with memory. Ingwë grabbed his elbow to steady him. "I... we were in a council session. It was some years after the Dagor Nirnaeth Arnediad and Turgon was concerned about security. Maeglin..."

Glorfindel, lost again in his memories, was unaware of the fell light that emanated from him as he spoke the traitor’s name and did not see the looks of alarm on many of the faces in the room. Ingwë gave the ellon a gentle shake to bring him out of his fugue. Glorfindel blinked a couple of times.

"I’m sorry, my lord," he said faintly, "I seem to be..." but he couldn’t complete the thought, for he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, except confusion as past and present collided with one another within him. He felt a frisson of panic begin to rise inside him and had a sudden need to be away from everyone. Then there was a shimmer in the air and Manveru and Erunáro were there, looking equally concerned. Ingwë stepped away from Glorfindel to give the two Maiar room.

"Carefully, sword-brother," Manveru said, taking Glorfindel into his embrace. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly... and again... that’s it. All is well now."

Glorfindel could feel himself becoming more connected to his surroundings with every breath taken. Finally, the world seemed to steady around him and the Maia released him, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Better?"

Glorfindel nodded, smiling shyly back, then looked about and gave the Maia a rueful look. "I seem to have made a spectacle of myself again."

"But it was entertaining while it lasted," Ingwë laughed, not unkindly. "I wonder, though, what stopped you."

Glorfindel grimaced. "You were smiling, my lord, and on that particular day Turgon was not smiling. In fact..." he sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment before addressing the High King again. "That day I went too far and... my king and I had a falling out." He shook his head at that and gave Ingwë a chagrined look. "We never fully reconciled before... before the end."

"I am sorry to hear that, yonya," Ingwë said sadly, suddenly divining Glorfindel’s... obsession with Turucáno.

Glorfindel gave a small shrug, a look of defeat on his fair countenance and Ingwë was at a loss how to offer him any comfort. Then, surprisingly, Alassiel, sitting with the royal family at the council table, stood up and came around to give the ellon a warm hug. "But someday you’ll be able to reconcile with your king, won’t you, ammelda? That is something to which you may look forward."

Glorfindel gave her a grateful look and smiled. "Thank you," he said softly.

Then Erunáro clapped him on the shoulder. "You are well now, sword-brother?"

Glorfindel gave the Maia a confused look. "Why do you call me that?"

"Why should we not?" Manveru retorted. "Did you not fight against and defeat one of our Fallen Brethren even as we have?"

"Not to mention pitting yourself against the seven elves who attacked you," Erunáro added with a grin. "Though, mind you, that stunt was rather stupid of you."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And pitting myself against a balrog wasn’t?"

Now Erunáro laughed. "I didn’t say that."

Manveru joined his brother in the Thought of Eru in laughter. "We will leave you now, sword-brother. Be well." With that, the two Maiar gave Ingwë respectful nods, then faded from sight.

For a long moment no one moved or spoke. Then, Ingwë bestirred himself, giving himself a mental shake. "Where were we?"

****

The storm that had raged across the Pelóri, keeping Glorfindel confined to the caves, had, oddly enough, missed Vanyamar completely. However, a couple of days after the incident in the council chamber, the denizens of the city woke to find a thick blanket of snow had fallen overnight. An informal holiday was declared and many people were seen enjoying the snowfall, especially the elflings. Glorfindel and his friends went outside the city after the noon meal to engage in a snowball fight — ellyn against ellith. Glorfindel hung back, standing against the city wall and watching his friends with a wistful look, for they were climbing the mountain to where the snow was deeper and away from the little ones playing by the gate. He was still unsure how far up the mountain he could safely go without arousing the wrath of the Valar.

Then, out of nowhere, a snowball hit him square in the face and he heard the sound of laughter from high above him. When he cleared the snow from his eyes he could see Elessairon and Alassiel, among others, pointing at him, obviously highly amused. At that moment, all thought of mountains, prohibitions and the Valar themselves fled from Glorfindel’s mind as he scooped up some snow and made his way purposefully towards the group of friends, bent on revenge.

It was a merry chase.

Manveru, unclad and leaning against the city wall as he watched the antics of the Children, little and not so little, looked up at his brother, who was brushing snow from his hands and smiling smugly. "Good throw," he said.

Erunáro laughed. "I have my moments."

Manveru nodded towards where Glorfindel was now being pummeled by snowballs thrown by three very determined ellith. "Just what he needed to bring him out of his self-pity."

"Our sword-brother just needed an... incentive," Erunáro said with a laugh. Manveru joined him.

****

High on Taniquetil, Manwë and Námo exchanged grins of their own.

"Métimavë!" Manwë said with some feeling.

"Násië!" Námo said, rolling his eyes towards the heavens.

They heard a faint echo of laughter come from beyond the Circles of Arda and then they were both laughing themselves.

****

Ammelda: Best beloved, literally "most beloved".

Métimavë!: "Finally!"

Násië!: "Amen!"





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List