42: The First Lesson

The next morning, Glorfindel wondered at the wisdom of his promise to remain for another two weeks. He was not feeling sanguine about it at all and was at a loss as to what he should do with Lisselindë.

"Don’t do anything with her," Tiutalion suggested when Glorfindel broached the subject while Tiutalion was busy restocking the kitchen now that Glorfindel would be with them longer. "Let her observe you in your everyday activities or better yet, let her join you. She’s bound to have questions concerning the Eldar in general and perhaps Findaráto in particular."

"What do I tell her?" Glorfindel asked.

Tiutalion stopped what he was doing to give Glorfindel a measuring look. "The truth, child. Nothing more."

"She’s not going to be... well... around me all the time, is she?" the ellon grumbled.

The Maia gave him a knowing smile. "Only for a few hours in the afternoon," he explained. "She does have other duties. There may be times when Lady Nienna will ask you to change your schedule to accommodate this."

Glorfindel gave the Maia a sour look. "Schedule? What schedule? Do you see a schedule lying about? Where do you think we are, in the High King’s court?"

Tiutalion laughed. "I only meant that if you have a specific plan to do something Lady Nienna might ask you to wait until Lisselindë can join you."

"Oh. Sorry." Glorfindel sighed, running his hand through his golden locks, not liking the situation at all. "If I’d known I was going to be here this long I would have brought more bags."

"What do you need?" Tiutalion asked.

"Not important...."

"No, Glorfindel. If there is something you want, something you left behind in Vanyamar or Tirion, please let me know. It will be easy enough to retrieve it. Regardless of the sign you painted over the door, this is not a prison and you are not our prisoner. You’re our guest and we want you to feel comfortable for as long as you are here."

Glorfindel gazed at the Maia intently, as if gauging the sincerity of his words. Finally he nodded. "Well, if I made a list...."

Tiutalion smiled. "Just don’t make it too long. I’m only one Maia, you know."

Glorfindel merely raised an eyebrow as he went to find something to write on.

****

When Lisselindë appeared later that afternoon she was greeted by the sight of Glorfindel happily practicing his archery. He was using an altaquinga that had been made for him by Aldarion and his other friends in Vanyamar. The ellon was shooting at a target set up on the beach. The Maia stood to one side out of the ellon’s line of sight and quietly observed him. Over time, Glorfindel had improved his accuracy with the bow and his arrows landed in the center of the target more often than not. He was still not a match for Aldarion or Mithlas and was certainly nowhere near the level of competence that Beleg displayed, but it was obvious to the Maia that he would be able to hold his own if the situation warranted it. She suspected, though, that Glorfindel would always be the better swordsman.

Glorfindel did not notice Lisselindë until he had spent his arrows and was heading towards the target to retrieve them. He gave the Maia an embarrassed look. "How long have you been here?" he asked.

Lisselindë shrugged. "Just long enough to admire your form," she said, her expression making her statement ambiguous as to her meaning.

Glorfindel gave her a knowing grin as he continued to the target and retrieved the arrows.

"So why do you do this?" Lisselindë asked, gesturing at the bow and target.

The ellon pulled the last arrow out of the target and turned to give the Maia a shrug. "I don’t think the Valar will let me practice my swordfighting after what happened between Finrod and me, but I can’t get into too much trouble doing archery, can I?"

Lisselindë’s expression was one of faint amusement. "I think the Valar would not want you to practice your swordfighting with Findaráto, but I don’t think they would mind you sparring against a... lesser opponent."

Glorfindel scowled. "Perhaps not, but if I fight only those of lesser ability then I will never improve. Finrod is just about the only ellon who is my equal if not my better in the art of swordfighting."

"What about some of the warrior Maiar?" Lisselindë suggested. "I’m sure Lord Manwë would not object to you fighting them. They certainly have had enough experience in warfare from the very beginning of our coming into Eä."

Glorfindel gave her a strange look. "Did you... um... ever fight?"

The Maia did not answer immediately and Glorfindel thought perhaps he had somehow offended her and was ready to offer an apology when she nodded. "When I had to," she answered softly. "We all fought, though our weapons were not those used by you Children. We rarely fought as Incarnates. As one of the People of Lord Irmo and Lady Estë, I was often charged with tending the wounded."

"Wounded?" Glorfindel asked, unsure if he understood her correctly.

Lisselindë gave him a somewhat superior smile. "There are always wounded in any war, child, even those fought by the Valar and Maiar."

Glorfindel stood for a moment, trying to assimilate this new knowledge. He could not imagine any of the Ainur suffering wounds such as were common among the Incarnates. Then he shook his head as if to clear it of disturbing thoughts and made his way back to his starting point. "Care to join me?" he asked.

Lisselindë gave him a disbelieving look. "Why would I want to do that? I have no need for such a weapon."

Glorfindel shrugged. "Just thought I would ask. It’s always fun to have companions against whom you can test your mettle."

"Perhaps another time," the Maia said diffidently, not sure what to make of the ellon.

Glorfindel nodded as he chose an arrow and set to shoot. Then, he lowered his bow and put the arrow back in its quiver, suddenly no longer interested in resuming the archery. Lisselindë gave him a puzzled look.

"Is there something wrong, Glorfindel?"

He turned to her, his expression blank. "I don’t think this is going to work."

"What won’t work?" she asked, suddenly afraid that all their plans were going to unravel. She sent a silent plea to Lady Nienna who responded by sending her a wave of encouragement and support. The love and concern that the Maia felt from her new mistress was nearly overwhelming and she was hard-pressed not to gasp out loud.

Glorfindel, oblivious to what was happening, just shrugged. "My staying here. I don’t think I can help you. I’m not the right person...."

"Of course you are," Lisselindë said quickly, hoping to divert the ellon’s thoughts. "You are an Elda, are you not? I have a need to better understand the Eldar. You are close to Findaráto, are you not? You can give me insights about him that have escaped me. Perhaps then I can figure out where I misjudged."

"Perhaps the Valar should have had you become Finrod’s thrall for a time," Glorfindel said in all seriousness. "I’m sure my otorno could have taught you much about himself and the Firstborn."

"Me, a thrall?" the Maia responded, shocked to the core of her being at the thought of being anyone’s thrall, especially one of the Children. It was too ludicrous and she felt insulted that this... this ellon would even suggest it. "I am a Maia, one who sang before the throne of Ilúvatar before ever Eä was brought into existence." Her voice rose in continuing anger. "You dare to suggest that I be the thrall of one of the... the mirroanwi, someone who is a mere child in my eyes...."

Glorfindel stared in fascinated horror as Lisselindë began to glow with a reddish light and seemingly grow larger. He was not actually afraid but he was somewhat concerned about what he should do to calm the clearly incensed Maia. Lisselindë continued to rant, her rage overtaking her and Glorfindel actually took a step or two back, wishing he had his sword. He didn’t think arrows would offer him much in the way of defense if the Maia suddenly took it into her head to attack him.

He was wondering if he should call for help but was saved the trouble when suddenly there were many bright lights which coalesced into several Maiar. Three of them were warrior Maiar whom Glorfindel recognized. Manveru, Erunáro and Fionwë appeared before him facing Lisselindë and the ellon realized they were there to protect him!

Two other Maiar, only one of whom Glorfindel recognized, also appeared, flanking Lisselindë. Nyéreser and Nasarindil grabbed Lisselindë’s arms, preventing her from moving. Their arrival was enough to still Lisselindë’s tantrum and an unnerving silence ensued. After a few tense moments Nyéreser spoke, giving Lisselindë a stern look.

"I think this is enough for one day. Time to go."

"NO!" Glorfindel shouted, pushing his way past the warrior Maiar, now angry on his own behalf. "Everyone remain where you are," he enjoined them in a commanding voice and was somewhat surprised that they obeyed. He would not know that his order was reinforced by one from Nienna, who watched with interest what was happening while she sat in one of her workshops, weaving.

The ellon then called for Tiutalion, who appeared immediately. Glorfindel handed him his bow and the quiver of arrows. "Get rid of these," he said, indicating the target as well, "and bring me my sword and fighting gear."

Tiutalion did not comment on Glorfindel’s imperious manner but did what he was bid with alacrity and in no time he was helping Glorfindel into his hauberk and vambraces, while everyone else stood by and watched with great curiosity. When the ellon was fully armed, he took a few minutes to go through a series of warm-up exercises. Then he sheathed his sword, the same one Olwë had given him, before turning to Lisselindë, his expression grim.

"I’ve changed my mind," he said, speaking in a dangerously low voice. "I’m going to stay for the two weeks and show you what we Eldar are all about. Here’s your first lesson." Without warning he whipped out his sword and swung it in a wide arc. Lisselindë and the two Maiar flanking her flinched automatically, but the disgraced Maia was not Glorfindel’s target. With a yell of defiance he suddenly turned and was on the three warrior Maiar who only just brought their own swords out in time.

Glorfindel laughed at the surprised looks he got from Fionwë and Erunáro. Manveru merely grinned, and he was the first to engage the ellon while the other two Maiar stood to the side and watched. The two fought hard, each taking the measure of the other, but it became clear to everyone watching that Glorfindel was not about to play by the rules of the tourney. Even as he parried a thrust by Manveru he kicked out with his left foot into Fionwë’s midriff, then did an almost impossible spin on his other foot and swept the blade at knee-level, forcing Erunáro to jump in order to avoid being taken down. In the three seconds it took him to execute these moves he was already facing Manveru once again, and his expression was absolutely void of any emotion.

The three warrior Maiar got the message and attacked as one. Glorfindel never blinked. He parried and thrust, dipping low and then jumping high. The four of them battled up and down the beach, and it was clear that Glorfindel would never yield the field and neither would they. The uneven ground and the sand did not seem to bother the ellon, for he was as nimble as if he were fighting in the salle.

At one point the Maiar managed to drive him into the waves, but even that did not slow the ellon down. Instead, he attacked Fionwë, who was on his left, by taking a flying leap and landing on the Maia’s chest with both feet, sending Fionwë crashing into the surf, his sword flying. Without pausing, Glorfindel tucked his body and rolled as he landed just before Erunáro and lashed out with his legs once again, tripping the Maia. Then he was up and facing Manveru once again and the clash of their weapons could be heard for miles around. For several more minutes the two fought and then Glorfindel feinted to his left before spinning to his right and continuing in a circle, bringing the flat of his sword against the Maia’s right arm, forcing Manveru to drop his weapon. Glorfindel held the point of his sword at Manveru’s throat, both of them dripping with seawater. For the longest time the only sound on the beach was the shu-shursh of the surf breaking on the shore and Glorfindel’s breathing.

"You’re dead," he said calmly as he shook his dripping locks out of his eyes and for the first time since he began the fight, there was a faint light of emotion in his eyes and a small smile crept across his face. Then he sheathed his sword and turned to face a thoroughly shocked Lisselindë, his expression going cold once again. "We fought against your fallen brethren," he said, moving slowly towards her, "against balrogs and werewolves, against Morgoth himself and Sauron. We fought and died while you all sat behind your precious mountains wringing your hands and bewailing the loss of the Trees and did nothing!" By now he was almost screaming. "So, yes, you could do much worse than to be a thrall to Finrod for a year or three, child!" The absolute scorn in his voice left no doubt that he meant the word as an insult.

Then he glanced around, suddenly noticing that the headland was lined with Nienna’s Maiar who had come to watch the spectacle. He grimaced. "Lesson’s over!" he shouted, "You’re dismissed... all of you." Without another word he strode up the path leading to the cottage. A few moments later they heard the sound of the front door slamming.

The silence continued for some time before Pallando, standing on the highest point of the bluff, gave them a wry grin. "You heard him. Lesson’s over. Back to your duties. Nyéreser, Nasarindil, Lord Námo is expecting Lisselindë. He apparently has a few words of wisdom he wishes to impart to our sister. He’s waiting for you in Valmar."

Lisselindë actually moaned as the other two Maiar wrapped their minds around hers and thought themselves away. Pallando, meanwhile, was addressing the three warrior Maiar.

"My regards to the Elder King with my lady’s thanks." He gave them a brief bow which the three returned.

Manveru then gave him a wide grin. "Tell our sword-brother that we enjoyed the workout. If he ever wants to play again, all he has to do is holler."

Pallando gave his fellow Maia a jaundiced look. "I doubt me that Glorfindel was playing."

"But we were," rejoined Erunáro with a laugh, which was echoed by the other two warriors as they faded from view. Pallando just shook his head in bemusement and then spied Tiutalion standing alone on the beach, his expression one of deep thought.

"Keep an eye on him, will you?" Pallando asked him. "Our mistress will not insist he join her for dinner tonight. He may feel the need to speak to you later."

"Or not," Tiutalion replied with equanimity. "I will stay with him even if he doesn’t know I’m there."

"Good enough," Pallando said, nodding in satisfaction. Then, he gave his brother Maia a wry grin. "Rather interesting lesson, wouldn’t you agree? I hope we don’t have too many more such lessons in the future. This one was more exciting than I like."

"From your lips to Atar’s ears, my friend," Tiutalion admonished him with a laugh. Pallando laughed also as he faded from view. Tiutalion made his way towards the cottage and soon the beach was empty as the sun began to set in fiery glory.

****

All words are Quenya:

Altaquinga: Great Bow, the war bow of the Eldar. It’s Sindarin equivalent would be daerpheng.

Ainur: Holy Ones, i.e. the Valar and Maiar.

Mirroanwi: Plural of mirrowanwë: Incarnate, i.e. Elves and Mortals.