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Elf, Interrupted: Book Two: Glorfindel's Quest  by Fiondil

95: Glorfindel in Alqualondë

The ship continued sailing up the coast and Glorfindel stood along the port side watching the land slip past them, his expression seemingly confused and troubled. Lindarion came to him, bearing a couple of goblets of wine, one of which he handed to Glorfindel. The ellon accepted it somewhat distractedly.

“What is wrong?” Lindarion asked, noticing Glorfindel’s expression.

“It looks different,” Glorfindel responded, not taking his eyes off the shore.

“What does?”

Glorfindel pointed with his goblet. “The shore. It looks different from when I last saw it. Then, it was under starlight. Now....” He shook his head. “It... it doesn’t look the same.”

Lindarion stared landward, pursing his lips. “It was a dark time for us all,” he said eventually. “I still have nightmares of our ships burning and friends lying dead in the surf.”

Glorfindel glanced at him, looking guilty. “I had nothing to do with that,” he said. “Turucáno would not....”

Lindarion raised his hand to still the ellon’s protests. “I do not say these things to blame you, Glorfindel. What happened, happened. We have all been forced to live with the consequences of the Kinslaying to one degree or another. And most of our people have been returned to us from Mandos. It is well, I assure you.”

Glorfindel nodded, not entirely convinced. He decided to change the subject, taking a sip of wine before speaking. “Do you miss the Trees?”

Lindarion gave him a startled look. “Hmm... an interesting question,” he finally said. “I did have occasion to visit Tirion and once I went to Valmar and saw the Trees for myself, but for the most part I lived under starlight in Alqualondë. Certainly when the Light went out and the Calacirya darkened it was a frightening experience for us all, for none of us went to Ilmarin at Lord Manwë’s behest, so we were unaware until well after the fact of what occurred.”

Glorfindel sighed. “Sometimes I dream of them,” he admitted, “and always when I awake, there is a grief within me that is almost too deep for words to describe, too deep even for tears. It troubles me as to why I would have such dreams.”

“I imagine it was harder for the Noldor and Vanyar than it was for us Lindar,” Lindarion said. “I doubt you are the only person to have such dreams.”

“No. I doubt it as well,” Glorfindel answered, narrowing his eyes. “At any rate, when Anar rose for the first time, it was so glorious, more so than when Isil rose. I named my House after her, did you know? The House of the Golden Flower. I was chosen to the lordship when the original lord died in an orc attack shortly after we arrived in Beleriand. Before that, we did not have any names for the twelve Houses. That came later after we removed to Gondolin.”

“Interesting,” Lindarion said. “I did not know that, but then, I know very little about what happened in Beleriand, save snatches of history which people like Beleg or Findaráto have mentioned while we were traveling through Tol Eressëa. What was Gondolin like? How did it feel to live in hiding from all the other Exiles for so long?”

“It was not an easy decision to make,” Glorfindel acknowledged. “Some of our people even refused to follow Turucáno to Gondolin, and he was forced to dismiss them. I suppose they took allegiance with Ñolofinwë or Findecáno. Since only Turucáno and the lords of the other Houses knew where Gondolin was, no one could tell the others where it lay, so we were safe enough.”

“Was it difficult for you?” Lindarion asked.

Glorfindel shook his head. “Turucáno had my allegiance. I would give it to no other. I would have followed him to the very depths of Angband if he had so ordered it.”

“I heard that Turucáno modeled the city after Tirion.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel replied. “Some thought that was a mistake, that we would look to a past that was closed to us instead of looking to a future that was open, but it cannot be denied that Gondolin was as fair a city as ever was built by the Eldar and we were justifiably proud of her.” He sighed, looking sad.

Lindarion clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, the last time you saw Alqualondë neither we nor you were at our best.” Glorfindel couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Hopefully, this time, we will leave you with a better impression.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Glorfindel said and then raised his goblet in salute and the two drank deeply, then turned and joined Olwë and Beleg for a light repast which had been set up on the poop deck under a blue-and-white striped awning.

****

Glorfindel stared in amazement at the arch of living searock that marked the entrance of the Swan Haven as they sailed into the harbor with the sun beginning to set behind the Pelóri. He almost cringed when they sailed under it, thinking that the tall mast would not make it, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that there were almost two feet of space and the ship sailed serenely into port. Beleg was standing next to him and smiled knowingly.

“A beautiful sight, isn’t it?” he commented. “I was so stunned by it the first time I saw the arch that Uncle Olwë had to shake me out of my immobility.”

“It does take getting used to,” Glorfindel admitted, then turned his attention to the city, which, he could see, was a city of canals that were linked to the harbor. Bridges spanned the canals at key junctures and there were wide walkways for pedestrians. The two swan ships made their way to their berths and soon they were all disembarking to find Lirillë waiting for them, along with Olwen, who was Olwë and Lirillë’s other daughter. Everyone greeted each other gladly and when Lirillë saw Glorfindel with them he was warmly welcomed.

“Come,” she said as she linked arms with her husband and son, “let us away to the palace and you can tell us all about it. I have ordered that dinner will only be the family tonight. We will bother with a formal welcoming feast tomorrow.”

That met with everyone’s approval and soon they were happily sitting down to the meal and it took some time for them to tell the entire tale, but no one minded. When Olwë described their flight from Kortirion, Lirillë gave her husband a shrewd look.

“Forcing their hand that way was very risky,” she said. “It will be interesting to see how it all falls out.”

Olwë nodded. “It was a risk Arafinwë and I were willing to take, but I think in the end the Tol Eressëans will come around and beg us to hold the council at the winter solstice. We will have to see.”

Lirillë nodded then turned to Glorfindel with a smile. “I am glad that you have decided to visit us, Glorfindel. I hope your stay with us will prove fruitful.”

“It is my hope as well, my lady,” he replied. “Lindarion has told me something of when Eärendil and Elwing were here. I wish to find them and I understand that there are those who helped to build Elwing’s Tower residing here in Alqualondë.”

“Yes,” Olwë said, “and tomorrow I will introduce you to them. I ordered the tower to be built at Elwing’s request, though I would have preferred that they reside here instead. I have never visited the place so I cannot tell you where it lies, only that it is far north of here.”

“How will you go?” Olwen asked. “Will you travel on land or sea?”

“I do not know,” Glorfindel admitted. “I have not thought that far ahead. I have my horse and I would be loath to leave him behind.”

“We will speak of it later when you know where you are going,” Olwë suggested. “It may be easier to reach the Tower by the sea route rather than by land.”

“And faster, too,” Lindarion chimed in. “You did promise Findaráto that you would be back in time for his wedding, after all.”

Glorfindel gave him a scowl. “I do not think it will take me that long to find this Tower even if I do take the land route. Besides, what I know about boats and sailing wouldn’t fill a thimble.”

“Well, we can always teach you, if you’d like,” Lindarion said.

“Let me first speak with those who know where the Tower is located before we decide on my route,” Glorfindel said and the matter was dropped.

****

As promised, Olwë summoned Master Telemnambo of the stonemasons’ guild, who had overseen the construction of Elwing’s Tower, and Captain Falastur who owned the ship that had transported the workers and their equipment to and fro. They spread maps out on a table in Olwë’s library. Along with Olwë and Glorfindel, Lindarion was also with them.

“Here’s Alqualondë,” the captain said, pointing to a spot on the map which showed the coastline of Valinor from just south of the Calacirya to far north of Alqualondë, though there was a blank space on the very edge of the map with the legend ‘To the Helcaraxë’ written neatly with an arrow pointing north. “As you can see the coastline is very rugged and there are many coves and inlets all along the way.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I remember that,” he said as he stared at the map.

“Yes, well, on the instructions of Lady Elwing,” Master Telemnambo said, giving Glorfindel a measuring look, “we built her tower on the borders of the Sundering Seas. Lord Eärendil actually found the site for us when he sailed on Vingilot and could see down from the heights.”

“Where is it, exactly?” Glorfindel asked, peering at the map a little closer.

“There’s a problem with that,” Falastur admitted, giving them an apologetic look.

Olwë gave the ellon an enquiring look. “Oh? What problem is that?”

“We don’t know exactly where the tower is located,” came the surprising answer.

“But you were there building it,” Glorfindel protested.

“Yes, but we never saw where the cove was,” the ellon answered. “What I mean is, we were blindfolded before we were brought to the cove and when we left we were blindfolded again.”

“I never knew that,” Olwë said in surprise. “Then who steered the ships that took the workers and materiel there?”

“Maiar,” the stonemason answered. “We all agreed to the conditions, you understand, and while we were there we did not venture to leave the cove.”

“So you don’t know where it is,” Glorfindel said with a disheartened sigh, feeling frustrated that at every turn it seemed he was being stymied in his quest for answers.

“Not exactly,” Falastur said. “But we know where it isn’t.” He grabbed the map. “We were never blindfolded until we reached this point, which is about the furthest north any of our ships have ever sailed save when we ferried the Host of the West to Endórë during the War.” He stabbed a finger at a spit of land that stretched out into the ocean. It looked a fair distance from Alqualondë. “It always took us at least five days of constant sailing to reach this point, at which time, Maiar, wearing the emblem of Lord Ulmo, would appear. We would all go below deck and suffer ourselves to be blindfolded. One of the Maiar stayed with us to keep us honest.” He flashed them a wry grin and the others returned it with grins of their own. “Then we sailed for about twelve hours. I know this, for we always reached the peninsula at sunset and when we were allowed to remove our blindfolds, it was dawn. Most of us simply slept the night away; the blindfolds were just a precaution.”

“What about the return trip?” Lindarion asked. “Was the time the same?”

“Nearly so,” the ellon answered. “We would sail with the tide. Sometimes it was night, sometimes day, but generally twelve hours would elapse from the time we left the cove until we reached the peninsula and could remove our blindfolds.”

“Hmm... and the rate of speed?” Olwë asked the captain.

“Ah... regardless of the weather, it was always the same, about four knots.” There were raised eyebrows from Olwë and Lindarion.

“Is that significant?” Glorfindel asked, not sure what they were talking about.

“A constant speed of four knots is impossible to maintain,” Olwë explained.

“If you are not Maiar,” Glorfindel pointed out with a grin, perhaps more knowledgeable of the powers of the Maiar than any of the others in the room.

There were snorts from both the captain and Olwë. “Regardless, that means that you sailed about another fifty miles, give or take, north of the peninsula.”

“Assuming the Maiar didn’t just sail in a huge circle to fool you,” Glorfindel couldn’t help saying.

Lindarion groaned and Falastur gave Glorfindel a considering look. “A possibility, but I doubt it. Even blindfolded I would have felt the ship shifting from the straight course it was on. No, we sailed north, of that I am sure.”

They glanced at the map again. North of the peninsula only a small portion of the coastline was well marked and then the rest of the map was blank.

“Five days of constant sailing,” Olwë muttered.

“Sometimes six,” the captain said, “depending on the winds but never more than that.”

Olwë nodded as he looked at Glorfindel. “At least a week by ship. We can sail you that far, hinya, and then the rest of the way would be by land.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Can you describe the cove and the surrounding area?” he asked the stonemason and captain.

“I can give you a fair description,” Telemnambo answered.

“Then, why don’t we see you on your way,” Olwë said. “I will order the necessary supplies for you and you can leave tomorrow, if the captain is amenable to the idea of ferrying you and your horse that far.”

“I am at your Majesty’s command,” the captain said with a bow, “though there are signs of a storm approaching. We may have to delay the journey a day or three until it blows over.”

“If that is so, then that is so,” Olwë said equably. “That just gives us more time to visit with you, Glorfindel. I know Beleg will miss you when you leave.”

“I know, and I will miss him,” Glorfindel responded.

“Is there any reason why he could not accompany you?” Lindarion asked. “Two will make the journey less lonely and if there is any danger....”

“Normally, I would say yes,” Glorfindel told them, “but my heart tells me that this is a journey I must make alone.”

“Then we will see that you are properly kitted for the journey,” Olwë said, then he turned to the captain and the stonemason and thanked them for their time. Both ellyn gave the king their obeisance and Telenambo promised to have a full description of the cove where Elwing’s Tower stood written out for Glorfindel to take with him.

“That way you won’t have to memorize it. I will also draw some pictures as well that should help.”

Glorfindel thanked both ellyn and the meeting broke up.

****

When Glorfindel woke the next morning, the storm that had been predicted was upon them and did not let up for nearly a week. The waiting was interminable for the ellon and he spent a great deal of time in a training salle working on his forms, wishing one of the Maiar who had trained him were there to spar with. Beleg usually accompanied him to the salle but, not being a swordsman, he usually just sat and watched.

“I wish I could go with you,” he said at one point.

“I wish so too,” Glorfindel replied without breaking his form, “but this is something I need to do alone and besides, you promised Olwë that you would start training some of his people in archery.”

“Yes,” Beleg acknowledged with a sigh, “but I still wish I could go with you.”

Glorfindel gave him a knowing smile. “Perhaps next time,” he said and Beleg had to be content with that.

About a week after arriving in Alqualondë the storm let up enough that Glorfindel was hopeful that the journey north would begin soon. He had read and re-read the stonemason’s description of the cove and pored over the drawings, very accurate and quite detailed, committing it all to memory in case they were lost along the way. In spite of the delay, he could not help but appreciate the time to relax and recover from the trip to Tol Eressëa. He had not realized how tense he had been the whole time they were there, especially given what happened along the way. Now, he was relaxed and well rested as was Alagos and the two were ready to depart in high spirits.

Olwë and Lirillë feasted Glorfindel the night before his departure and they made a merry procession to the docks to see him off. Soon the ship, the Ára Liltarë, was passing through the mighty arch and turning to port, heading for the open sea as it made its way north. Glorfindel stood on the poop deck and watched as the city of Alqualondë faded into the blue and when he could no longer see it, he turned his eyes to the north... north to find two people who apparently did not wish to be found... north to find some answers to his questions... north where he never thought he would ever go again....

****

Ára Liltarë: Dawn Dancer.





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