5: The Question of Glorfindel

Manwë looked up from where he was sitting, listening to a report by one of his People, and grimaced. "That won’t do at all," he muttered, though everyone in the room heard him.

"My lord?" Sáyandilmë asked, wondering if she had somehow offended the Elder King.

Manwë gave the Maia a brief smile. "Not you, my dear," he said. "If you will excuse us, there is something I must discuss with my brethren in private."

"Of course, lord," the Maia said with a bow, not at all put out by the abrupt dismissal, nor was she at all surprised when the Elder King asked that all the Maiar in attendance, even Eönwë, leave them. With bows to their Masters, the Maiar left and Manwë settled back in his chair with a frown.

They were not in the main throne room, but in an antechamber off to one side where the business of the realm was often conducted in a less formal setting. With him were Aulë, Oromë and Tulkas. Of the Valiër, only Varda and Nessa were present. Yet, though the other Valar were not there physically, all were listening in on the conversation as the Elder King summoned them in ósanwë.

"Apparently moving into the tenth dimension," Manwë said without preamble, "has lowered the barriers we’ve set in place around Glorfindel with regards to his seeing Eärendil's Star."

"What do you mean?" Aulë asked in consternation. "We made sure those barriers could not be breached. He should not be able to see it or even think about Eärendil."

*And he still cannot,* Námo bespoke them from the tenth dimension, *but Findaráto mentioned seeing Eärendil in the sky and Glorfindel heard him.*

The looks of dismay on the faces of the other Valar present in the room mirrored Manwë’s own trepidation as to what this news augured. "Can you undo the damage?" he asked Námo.

"Do we dare?" Varda asked.

*He’s already slipped his leash once since coming to the tenth dimension,* Námo reminded them. *I do not know if further tampering....*

*It would be best if we leave it for now,* Irmo said and they could all 'hear' the frown in his thoughts. *I was never sanguine about meddling with his memory that way,* he added. *There were too many things that could go wrong, and of course, that’s just what has happened.*

*How is he taking it?* Vairë asked her husband.

*Not well,* came the darkly amused answer. *He’s demanding answers and I’m at a loss to explain without making things worse.* They could ‘hear’ his sigh of frustration. *Anything I say at this point will simply exacerbate the situation. He is very close to rebelling against my authority as it is.*

"Oh?" Manwë asked, smiling faintly at the image Námo was sending them of a deeply affronted ellon ready to take on the Lord of Mandos with his bare hands.

*He’s been accusing me of being no better than Melkor,* Námo answered.

"And Findaráto?" Oromë asked. "How is he taking all this?"

Námo did not speak, but showed them through his eyes what was happening. Glorfindel was shouting, furiously demanding answers while Findaráto was attempting to calm him down and at the same time try to come between him and Námo, who merely stood there, watching the two ellyn with detached amusement.

"Well, what should we do, then?" Manwë asked with a resigned sigh. "It’s clear that if we reinstate the barriers on Glorfindel we will have to tamper with Findaráto’s memories as well and Atar would not approve."

"He didn’t quite approve of what we did with Glorfindel," Nessa said, looking chagrined.

"But neither did he stop us," Varda said. "However, in this case...."

*In this case, we would be committing rape,* came Nienna’s bald reply and not a few of the Valar cringed at the word, *and Glorfindel’s accusation about us being no better than our Fallen Brother would be true.*

There was deep silence among them as they contemplated possible avenues. Finally Manwë nodded, his expression less troubled, but still somewhat grim. "Tell him then," he ordered Námo. "Tell him the truth, or as much of it as you think he can bear at this time."

"Perhaps, beloved," Varda said, "you should be the one to tell him."

Manwë gave his spouse a surprised look. "Why do you say that, meldanya?"

Varda gave him a wide smile. "Glorfindel fears you."

"And that’s a good thing?" Nessa asked, looking confused.

Varda chuckled. "In this case, yes. He does not fear Námo," she went on to explain. "Respect him... well sometimes," — they all laughed at that — "but he no longer fears our brother." She looked directly at Manwë. "You, on the other hand, he still holds in awe, especially after succoring him in the cave as you did."

*And an explanation coming from you will hold greater authority in his mind than one coming from me,* Námo added, agreeing with Varda’s conclusions. *These Children have not yet grasped the fact that where one of us speaks, we all speak. They still deal better with chains of authority. Your words will hold greater authority in their minds than mine, though I speak in your name.*

*Your own fault, brother,* Nienna said with an amused chuckle. *I keep telling you that you’re too close to your former charges. Remember, familiarity breeds contempt. You should maintain a proper distance and reserve.* This last was said with such insincerity that they all started laughing.

*But where’s the fun in that, sister?* Námo rejoined, laughing as well. *Besides, I like watching them stammer and stutter and try to back-track when they realize they’ve been too froward with me. They are just too comical.*

"Careful, Námo," Oromë admonished the younger Vala in a mock-serious tone, "they’re not playthings for your amusement."

*They’re not?* came the mock-surprised reply. *Well, that’s news to me,* he said, pretending to be affronted.

The others all grinned at the byplay between Oromë and Námo and they all ‘heard’ Vána snicker as the Valië sent them an image of Námo sitting on a child’s chair in front of a small table laden with a play tea-service. Glorfindel and Findaráto were also sitting in too-small chairs, dressed in various types of finery, as Námo poured pretend tea into their cups. Neither ellyn was looking amused as the Námo-image blithely went on pouring tea as if nothing were amiss. The Valar all howled in laughter at the image.

*I’m not that bad,* Námo protested half-heartedly, *and even I would never dare dress Glorfindel in feathers.*

That just set them off again and it was some time before they could get themselves under control. They all realized what the real reason behind their levity was — a need in themselves to diffuse the tension that they all felt, had been feeling, since the debacle of the final tourney match. They needed the release and welcomed it.

"Well, Varda is correct," Manwë finally said. "I should be the one to explain, but not at this moment. Námo, see if you can at least calm them down. Findaráto may be willing to listen but I suspect that Glorfindel will not."

*What do I tell them, though?* Námo asked. *They will not be satisfied with platitudes, not any more.*

"Tell them that I will come and explain everything, but only if they are both calm and willing to listen to what I have to say," Manwë replied. "Remind Glorfindel what happened the last time he pulled a temper tantrum in my presence. That should stop him for a time."

Námo nodded. *This is just getting better and better,* he said with great irony.

Manwë sighed in agreement. "And I fear it’s only going to get more so before the end."

They all felt Námo withdraw from the conversation and the others began to as well, recognizing that their meeting was over for the time. Manwë turned to those seated with him. "Let’s call our People back and continue where we left off."

****

Námo stood before the two ranting ellyn, never moving. Glorfindel was practically screaming for answers while Finrod was attempting to placate him and at the same time keep himself between the irate ellon and the too silent (to his mind) Vala. Námo could tell that Finrod was very close to losing his composure and it was an even bet who he was going to hit first, him or Glorfindel. Deciding to forestall the once King of Nargothrond from having to make such a decision, the Lord of Mandos raised a hand and spoke a single word:

"Silence."

He never raised his voice; indeed he spoke barely above a whisper, but the authority of his command was such that Glorfindel stopped immediately, panting in great gulps as his oxygen-starved lungs craved surcease from his screaming. Finrod went completely still, wondering just how angry his Master was at them.

"That’s better," Námo said after another minute went by. "Findaráto, get your brother some wine," he ordered in a voice that betrayed no emotion. "Glorfindel, sit down."

The two ellyn reluctantly complied with the Vala’s commands but soon the two were seated before him, both sipping at the wine. Námo waited another five minutes before he spoke again. "I will not explain what has happened to you Glorfindel," he stated firmly.

"But...."

"I will not explain," Námo reiterated, raising his voice slightly. Glorfindel cringed at the tone and subsided. "That task has fallen upon the Elder King."

They both gave him looks bordering on awe. "L-lord Manwë is coming here?" Glorfindel asked in a faint voice.

Námo almost smiled at the elf’s reaction. "Yes, he will be here, perhaps in the morning. He refuses to speak to you while you are in this state. I may tolerate your disrespect, but he will not."

Now Glorfindel reddened in embarrassment, though it was difficult to see in the dark with only the campfire providing light, but his voice, when he spoke, was full of remorse. "I’m sorry," he muttered, not looking up. "I’m... I’m not handling this well," he admitted.

Námo resisted a snort. "To say the least," he replied, allowing a tinge of humor to lace his words so the two elves would not misconstrue him. "At any rate, Lord Manwë will be the one to explain what has happened and why we did what we did." He sighed and they could see his expression softening. "Do not judge us too harshly, my children," he said. "More is at stake than you can know or we can tell. Trust us as you used."

"Rather hard to do when you are less than forthcoming in your answers to our questions, lord," Finrod said, his tone tinged with sadness.

"I know, best beloved," Námo responded, his voice equally sad. "Trust is a fragile thing, and I fear we may have abused it in this case, but I assure you, we have never had anything but the deepest respect for you both. Circumstances were such that we felt we needed to take this particular course until Glorfindel was mature enough to handle certain truths."

"What truths?" Glorfindel finally asked, looking up at the Vala, his expression more puzzled than angry.

"That is for Lord Manwë to say," Námo replied, "if you are willing to listen."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, then Finrod gave him a nod. "We’ll try."

"And that is all we ask," Námo said.

"When will he come?" Glorfindel asked with no little concern.

"Tomorrow," Námo answered, "after you are rested."

Glorfindel snorted. "Easier said than done."

"Perhaps," Námo conceded, "but you should at least try. Glorfindel, you may not like what you learn from us, but believe me when I say that all we’ve done has been for your good, always. It may not have been done well, but it was done with love."

"D-do you truly love us, lord?" Finrod asked. "Sometimes..." he gulped as the words stuck in his throat, afraid to say more.

Námo nodded. "You have no idea of the depth of love that we have for you, for all of you," he said. "And yet, as deeply as we love you, our love pales in comparison to the love Ilúvatar has for you, for all of us. Remember that, my children. You are here and alive because Ilúvatar loves you and wishes you well."

For a long moment the only sound was the crackling of the fire, then Glorfindel gave Námo a stricken look. "That flame... it stopped me from running... it tried to surround me and I was so frightened."

Námo carefully stepped forward and with a gesture invited Glorfindel to come into his embrace. He was pleased when the ellon did so with just the slightest hesitation. "That was Ilúvatar in the guise of the Flame Imperishable," he said as he gently held the ellon in his arms. "You were too frightened to understand, best beloved, but you were being surrounded by Love. No harm would have come to you."

"I know," Glorfindel whispered. "Now I know, but then...."

"But then you were too frightened," Námo completed the ellon’s thought, "and understandably so." He gave Glorfindel a brief kiss on the forehead and stepped back. "Now, why don’t you both try to get some rest. The Elder King will come on the morrow. I cannot promise you that all will be explained, but he will explain what he can. You must trust him for the rest."

The two elves nodded, Glorfindel more reluctantly than Finrod. Námo stayed long enough to see them both settled in their cots and then surreptitiously willed them to sleep as he bent down and laid a kiss on their brows. Then he left them to their dreams, though Oromë agreed to watch over them, just in case.

Námo nodded and thought himself back to Ilmarin where he, Manwë and Varda sat long into the night discussing the problem that was Glorfindel.