55: Mornaringwë

Glorfindel and Olórin set off soon after dawn the next day. The other three Maiar had spent the night putting together supplies for the ellon, so when he awoke, everything was ready.

"What will you do while we’re away?" he asked them as he crouched before the fire munching on a meat pie and washing it down with some tea. They would leave once he had broken his fast.

"Oh, do not concern yourself with that," Tiutalion said with a laugh. "We’ll be here when you return."

"I wish you were going with us," the ellon said almost wistfully.

"What! You don’t find my company stimulating enough?" Olórin demanded, giving him a mock scowl.

Glorfindel grinned. "It’s not that. It’s just that I guess I’ve gotten used to being surrounded by Maiar everywhere I go."

"Hardly surrounded," Nyéreser said with a grin, "and you shouldn’t get too used to having us around; you might begin to depend on us too much. You don’t understand what a rarity it is for any of us to companion you Children for any length of time. We’re usually messengers, not caregivers."

"Well I appreciate the care you’ve given me these last few weeks," Glorfindel said with all sincerity.

The three Maiar bowed to him. Lisselindë handed him his haversack when he indicated he was ready to leave. "Try not to get yourself injured," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "I’ve run out of bandages."

Glorfindel laughed and all the Maiar were pleased at the sound of it, for it was unstrained and there was joy behind it, a joy that had been missing of late. "I’ll keep that in mind," he said with a wink and then he and Olórin set off, skirting the lake on the west side, keeping a steady pace throughout the day, which had dawned bright and cloudless. It was, in fact, a perfect late spring day and in spite of things Glorfindel found he was enjoying the trek. He refrained from asking questions that he knew would not be answered. The Maiar, like the Valar, liked to keep their little secrets, he knew, though whether it was out of a need to seem mysterious to the elves or for other, perhaps darker, reasons, he could not say and frankly no longer cared. Whatever purpose there was behind this trip into the mountains would reveal itself in its own time and not before.

Thus, the day was spent in companionable silence. They did not bother stopping for a noon meal; Glorfindel munched on an apple as they continued walking. He was completely healed from his encounter with the ulcamorcor and the fighting practice with the Maiar had strengthened him even further so his stamina was better than it had been even before his death. He wondered if it was because he was a Reborn or if there was another reason but he was reluctant to ask. So, it wasn’t until the sun was nearly setting before they agreed to stop for the night.

"Though I feel as if I could continue walking through the night," Glorfindel opined as he went about gathering wood for a fire.

"No doubt," Olórin said with a smile, "but there’s no hurry. We made better time than I thought. We’ll be at our destination before noon tomorrow."

Glorfindel glanced to the south where the mountains loomed in purple shadows, the lower slopes free of snow, though higher peaks behind them were still wreathed in it and would remain so even during the summer. He could make out the waterfall which fed the lake behind them and indeed they had been following the stream for most of the day as they climbed into the foothills.

"Now that I’m closer to the mountains, I’m amazed anything can get across them. I can’t even see where there is a pass," Glorfindel commented as he shaded his eyes for a better view.

"Here, no, there is no pass," Olórin said. "What passes exist are further west where the mountains are lower as they approach the sea. That is where the heaviest concentration of rangers are."

"How far into the mountains will we go then if there’s no way up?" Glorfindel asked.

Olórin smiled. "I didn’t say there was no way into the mountains, only that there are no passes that will allow us to cross them to the other side."

"Oh," the ellon said somewhat disappointedly. "I was sort of hoping to get a glimpse of the lands beyond."

"Someday perhaps, but not now," Olórin said and Glorfindel had to be content with that.

****

The next morning Glorfindel woke to find the area fogged in. "Oh no, not again," he muttered to himself as he stared at the grey-white mist surrounding him. It was so thick, he could barely see two feet in front of him.

He heard Olórin laugh and turned around to see the Maia standing there, looking amused. "Fear not! This is just mountain mist, nothing more. It will burn off soon enough. Now, here is some tea. When you’re ready we’ll set off. The going will be a bit slow for the first hour or so, but we’re not that far from our destination so do not fret."

Glorfindel sighed and took the offered cup and set about breaking his fast and going through his ablutions. By the time he was ready to continue the journey the fog was beginning to dissipate and the sun was shining through. They walked for about an hour, following the stream, and then without warning Olórin veered to the right along a path that apparently only he could see, for Glorfindel saw nothing but the trackless forest. However, he decided not to ask any questions. He suspected that Olórin would only smile and say nothing.

Thus, they made their way west along what proved to be a ridge overlooking a fold in the mountain forming a narrow valley on their left while on their right the forest continued northward as far as he could see. The trees here were mostly dark pine with none of the towering redwoods that graced the forest in the plains below the mountains. Glorfindel, in fact, could not see much of the mountains from this angle; they were too close and all he could see were trees.

They continued on their way with Olórin in the lead. Now Glorfindel could detect a rise in their path as it wound its way around the lower slopes. At one point they had to actually climb over giant boulders set almost like steps leading further up. By now they were beyond the tree line to where most of the trees were dwarf pines barely elf-tall. Glorfindel stopped for a moment to catch his breath and take in the view, what there was of it.

The mountains were now visible and he could see that they had actually come well into them. The jagged peaks here were snow-covered, though bare granite peeked out in places and he suspected that in summer some of these slopes would be bare. The valley to their left had disappeared as the gap between the ridge and the mountain narrowed. Now the ridge leveled out and the way was more open on their left; to the right was an escarpment overlooking the forest below.

"We’re almost there," Olórin said suddenly and Glorfindel startled at the Maia’s voice, for neither had spoken since leaving the camp that morning.

"Almost where?" Glorfindel couldn’t help asking, for there didn’t seem to be any place congenial for their camp.

Olórin pointed westward. "Come. Another hour should see us there."

Glorfindel shrugged and gamely followed the Maia. The going proved easier than it had been and they made quick time until they came to a mountain tarn nestled between two peaks. The area around them was bare of trees for the most part but the ground was covered by mountain grasses and spring flowers bloomed merrily around the tarn. They were not so high up yet that the air was cold. It was, in fact, a rather pleasant place. Glorfindel could see higher snow-wreathed peaks rising behind the tarn and stood for a moment gazing at them in wonder.

"Well, here we are," Olórin said unnecessarily.

"And where exactly are we?" Glorfindel asked as he placed his haversack on the ground, his hands on his hips as he turned slowly around to take in their surroundings.

"We call this Mornaringwë," the Maia answered. "We can set up camp over there where those rocks are. They will form a good windbreak."

Glorfindel looked to where Olórin was pointing and saw a jumble of rocks and boulders where part of the mountain had fallen in some ancient quake. They were to the south of the tarn. He nodded. "I’ll go back down the way we came and gather some deadwood for a fire."

"Good enough," Olórin said. "I’ll see to the campsite."

Within a half hour they had a fire going and Olórin busied himself with providing Glorfindel with a meal while the ellon sat on a rock sipping some tea. "So when do the lessons start and of what will they consist?" he asked.

Olórin cast him a fond smile. "You’ve been extraordinarily patient with your questions," he said. "I ask that you remain patient just a little longer. Tomorrow we will start the lessons. For what is left of the day, spend it as you please. Explore the area or take your ease beside the fire."

Glorfindel nodded. "Perhaps after I’ve eaten I’ll take a walk. That you name this tarn leads me to suspect that this place is known to the Maiar and used by them."

Olórin nodded as he handed Glorfindel a bowl of rabbit stew and a hunk of bread. "This is a favorite haunt of the Maiar," he said, "though I do not know if any of the Valar bother with it."

"It’s certainly beautiful and peaceful," Glorfindel said as he ate.

Olórin did not comment but gave the ellon a slight knowing smile.

****

Glorfindel woke the next morning to someone licking him and nibbling on his hair. He focused his eyes to see a mountain goat standing over him. Their eyes met and the goat, a kid actually, bleated and Glorfindel couldn’t help but laugh, even as he shooed the animal away so he could sit up.

"And a good morning to you," he said, brushing his golden locks back, "but I’m afraid you’ll have to find something else for breakfast. My hair is not on the menu today." The goat gave another more indignant bleat then gamboled away to munch on some flowers.

He heard laughter then and turned to see Olórin smiling at the byplay. "Breakfast is ready whenever you are," he said.

Glorfindel nodded and went to splash some water on his face from the tarn, its dark waters ice cold but refreshing. A few minutes later he was sitting beside the fire eating, watching with amusement as the goat, joined now by a few others, including his dam, munched on the grass and flowers. A ram, its great horns curled back, stood on a flat rock overlooking his domain with an imperious gaze, ostensibly ignoring the Maia and ellon.

"They showed up around dawn," Olórin said, answering Glorfindel’s unspoken question. "The others ignored you but the little one was more curious."

"So I noticed," Glorfindel said with a smile. "I hope I don’t wake up every morning with it eating my hair. I won’t have any by the time we leave here."

The Maia laughed. "I’ll make sure to keep them away from you from now on."

"So, I think I’ve been patient enough," Glorfindel then said, putting down his mug of tea. "Shall we get on with the lesson, whatever it is?"

"As you wish," Olórin said in a congenial manner. He handed the ellon a silver bowl. "Go fill this with water and bring it back here. Do not fill it to the rim, only about three-quarters full."

Glorfindel took the bowl and did as he was bid and soon he was back beside the fire, his expression inquisitive. Olórin nodded for him to take a seat, indicating that he should hold the bowl in his lap.

"Look and tell me what you see," he ordered.

Glorfindel looked into the bowl. He hadn’t paid any attention to the water when he was filling the bowl and was surprised to find that it was just as dark as the tarn from which he had drawn it, a sort of deep blue that was almost black. The water, in fact, reflected the mountains and sky, but oddly enough, not his own image. He said as much, glancing up at the Maia in confusion. Olórin smiled.

"Just keep looking in the bowl and tell me what you see other than the reflection of the mountains and sky."

Glorfindel complied, wondering what he was supposed to see, if anything. He gazed into the still waters, trying to block all other sights and sounds from his mind, concentrating solely on the bowl in his lap. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring into the reflective waters, wondering why he could not see his own reflection, but finally, he gave a sigh and looked up, giving Olórin a sour grimace.

"So far I’ve seen nothing, not even my own reflection," he groused. He was surprised when he happened to look skyward to see where the sun was to find that it was now nearly noon. He had been staring into the bowl of water for nearly four hours!

If Olórin was upset by his lack of success, he did not show it. "That’s enough for now, I think," was all he said. "We will work on it some more tomorrow. Have some lunch and then relax for the rest of the day."

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Glorfindel asked in exasperation.

"If I were to tell you, it would defeat the purpose of the exercise," the Maia answered. "Do not fret. I did not expect you to see anything right away. It will take a little time. Now, go empty the bowl and then have something to eat."

The ellon sighed but did what he was told. The noon meal, consisting of roasted rabbit, chunks of cheese and bread and an apple, all washed down with sweet cider, did much to improve Glorfindel’s mood, so by the time he was finished eating he was feeling more cheerful.

"A strange sort of lesson," he said as he sipped on the cider. "What is its purpose, other than to frustrate me?"

Olórin smiled. "Its purpose will become clear enough in time. As I said, this lesson is better shown than told about. When you succeed in seeing other than the reflection of your surroundings, you will understand the purpose of all this readily enough."

"If I succeed," Glorfindel said somewhat testily.

"I have every confidence that you will," the Maia said soothingly. "As does Lord Manwë, else he would not have ordered this particular lesson."

With that, Glorfindel had to be content. Olórin assured him that the lesson was over for the day and that he was free to do as he pleased. He decided to do some hunting. Taking up his bow and arrows, for he had refused to come without all his weapons, he sauntered off down the ridge to the lower slopes where he sensed deer and other game abounded. He had to stop a couple of times to shoo the goat kid away, for it tried to follow him. Only the bleating of its dam convinced it to return to the herd. Olórin chuckled to himself, relaying the scene to the other Maiar and the Valar. There was laughter all around Aman, though no elf ever heard it.

****

For the next couple of days Glorfindel’s routine did not change. He would wake to the bleating of the goats, followed by breakfast, followed by hours staring into the silver bowl with no apparent success. After lunch he would wander about, sometimes going hunting, sometimes just lazing under the sun. One afternoon he occupied himself with playing with the goat kid, chasing it about, laughing hysterically as it skipped and gamboled about, clearly enjoying the game. He was sorry when on the fourth day he woke to find that the herd had moved on.

"This place seems too empty without them," he said to Olórin as he went to fill the silver bowl with water. He was feeling dispirited with his lack of success with whatever lesson he was supposed to be learning and now the goats were gone and he felt oddly bereft.

"Perhaps you will feel less distracted without them," the Maia suggested.

"If I knew what it was I’m supposed to be seeing in the blasted thing, I wouldn’t feel as if I were wasting my time here," Glorfindel groused, sloshing the water a bit in his frustration as he sat down with the bowl. "I don’t see the point. We’ve been here nearly a week and nothing has happened. I want to leave for Clearwater Glade tomorrow. Lord Manwë promised I could resume my fighting practice in a week. By the time we get back to the camp, a week will have gone by."

"I know you’re feeling frustrated, Glorfindel," Olórin said soothingly, "but let us give it a couple of more days. I promise, if you see nothing in the bowl by tomorrow, we will start back after lunch. Does that suit you?"

Glorfindel nodded, somewhat appeased.

"And do not think nothing has been accomplished," the Maia continued. "If you think about it I’m sure you will agree that since being here you have started to relax more, am I not correct?"

"Well... except for feeling frustrated, I suppose you are correct," Glorfindel agreed, though reluctantly. "Certainly, the peace and quiet has been beneficial and I suppose spending hours staring into this bowl has had a calming effect. I feel more... um... centered, I suppose you could say. I don’t feel quite so... fractured as when I came to Lady Nienna’s."

"Then, if nothing else, that alone has justified this little trip, wouldn’t you say?" Olórin asked and Glorfindel nodded.

It was true, in spite of the frustration of not seeing anything in the bowl of water, he had begun to feel calmer and more centered within himself since starting the exercise and he had discovered that he was not so concerned about what might be happening elsewhere. He was still uneasy about Arafinwë’s planned trip to Tol Eressëa and had every intention of being a part of the progress, but the intensity of his drive for perfection as a warrior had somehow lessened. He still wanted to get back to his training, but there wasn’t the same urgency in it as he had felt prior to coming to Mornaringwë.

With these thoughts in his mind he gazed idly into the bowl and gasped, nearly dropping it as he hastily stood up. Olórin was beside him immediately. "Man cennig?" he asked softly, switching to Sindarin.

"Nin," he answered in an awed voice, "nin cenin."

"And what does your reflection tell you about yourself?" the Maia asked, gently pushing Glorfindel back down, joining him so that they were sitting side-by-side.

Glorfindel never took his eyes off the bowl, too mesmerized by the sight of his reflection to notice anything else. He stared intently into his own eyes unsure what he hoped (or feared) to find.

"Do you see anything else?" Olórin asked and Glorfindel started to shake his head in denial, but then stopped, for now his image began to shift. He could still see himself, but now his reflection was overlaid with other images, images he recognized, images of his own past. It was almost like being back in the Máhanaxar and facing judgment, but this time there was no sense of actually reliving these moments. It was more as if he were seeing someone else’s life unfold before him yet recognizing that what he was seeing was indeed himself in all his strengths and weaknesses.

He mentally cringed at those images that did not show him at his best: his querulous nature when things were not going his way, his sudden flares of temper, though thankfully they were rather rare and he noticed with relief that there was never any vindictiveness in his anger. More importantly, the images of his failings were not as many as those showing his strengths: not only his martial prowess, but his generosity and compassion towards others, especially those who through their own failings did not live up to the high standards he had set for himself. He suddenly realized he was less compassionate towards himself than he was towards others. Sometimes, he knew, he tended to place his own personal standards at too high a mark, as if daring himself to fail, and when he did, castigating himself mercilessly. It was a no-win situation and he knew he had to start treating himself more kindly, as kindly as he treated others. He recalled a conversation that he had had with Lord Irmo when he was still in Lórien.

"Your greatest skill is compassion, child," the Lord of Lórien had said. "Use it to the fullest."

Only now did Glorfindel realize what Lord Irmo had truly meant by those words. He had assumed that he should be more compassionate towards others and indeed he had tried hard to be so, especially towards his attackers. Now he realized that the Vala had meant something different. He had shown more compassion towards his enemies than he had towards himself and somehow that seemed wrong. He recalled the compassion he himself had received from others, especially from the Valar, compassion he had been unwilling to give himself. It was an unsettling revelation, but he accepted it as he tried to accept all things, with grace, determined to learn from this.

Almost as soon as he came to that conclusion, the images faded and he saw himself for just a brief moment more before the water showed him only mountains and sky. He looked up at Olórin sitting patiently next to him, feeling dazed.

"I think that’s enough for today," the Maia said gently as he took the bowl from Glorfindel’s unresisting fingers. "No need to tell me what you saw, child," he continued. "That is for you and you alone. We’ll head back to Clearwater Glade tomorrow, after you have rested."

Glorfindel blinked a couple of times, trying to understand. "You mean, that’s it? That was the lesson?"

"And did you learn from it?" Olórin asked. Glorfindel nodded."Then there is nothing more to teach you, at least not here." Olórin stood up and went to the tarn, pouring the water from the bowl. When he turned around and started back to the fire Glorfindel noticed unsurprisingly that the bowl was no longer there. "Now, how about a bit of lunch?" the Maia said with a smile as he reached for the pot of venison stew warming on the fire.

The next morning, they said good-bye to the tarn and the mountains. When they reached the camp at Clearwater Glade the following afternoon, Glorfindel saw that his Maiar friends, including those who had been sparring with him, were waiting for them as promised. He gave them a broad smile.

"It’s good to be back," he said and meant it.

****

Mornaringwë: (Quenya) Dark cold lake (in the mountains).

Man cennig?: (Sindarin) ‘What dost thou see?’.

Nin... cenin nin: (Sindarin) ‘Me... I see me’.