Chapter the First:

In Which Glorfindel Reminisces and Our Tale Begins

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

"What was that?"

Glorfindel, once Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin, looked up from his goblet of wine to see several pairs of eyes looking at him curiously. Lord Celeborn was there with his lady, Galadriel, along with Elrond, his sons, Erestor and Lindir and a few others from Imladris or Lothlórien. Mithrandir was there as well, as was Legolas, though Gimli had retired along with the Hobbits. It was late in the evening of the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen and they were all gathered around one of the tables in the feast hall of Merethrond, quietly relaxing with wine and soft conversation. The happy couple had long disappeared and most of the other guests had retired. Only the Elves and those whose duties required them to be up were still awake.

"Hmm?" Glorfindel asked.

"You said something about it being the best and the worst of times," Elrond replied, for it was he who had asked the question.

"Oh, sorry," Glorfindel said apologetically. "I was just... remembering."

"Gondolin?" Erestor asked sympathetically. All there were aware of Glorfindel’s history: today was the anniversary of the Fall of Gondolin, the day the Elf-lord sitting amongst them had died. None there, except Mithrandir, could truly understand what it meant to die, and they shied away from the thought.

Glorfindel gave them a brilliant smile, seeing the looks of sympathy on their faces and shook his head. "No, actually, I was remembering another wedding that took place long ago on Midsummer’s Day."

"Oh?" More than one eyebrow was raised in surprise and Glorfindel laughed.

"And this particular wedding was both the best and the worst of the times?" Elrohir asked, looking a bit skeptical at his captain.

"Indeed," Glorfindel replied with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "especially when it was your Great Uncle’s wedding."

"Finrod!" Galadriel exclaimed and Glorfindel nodded. "You told me he and Amarië had wed, but you never gave any real details." She cast him a look that was both amused and annoyed.

Glorfindel only shrugged. "I didn’t feel like talking about my life in Aman when I first returned to Middle-earth."

"And now?" Galadriel demanded.

Glorfindel shrugged again. "And now, things are different."

"So how is it that my brother’s wedding was both the best and the worst of times for you?" Galadriel asked less belligerently. "I never did understand how you two even knew each other. As far as I recall you never really met during the Crossing or afterwards."

Glorfindel glanced at the faces around him, eyes glittering with curiosity. He noticed Mithrandir sitting somewhat apart, quietly smoking. The Wizard gave him a knowing look and a barely perceived nod, as if giving him permission, which Glorfindel found more amusing than annoying. He turned his attention to the others and took a sip of his wine before speaking again.

"I’ll have to give you some background so you understand what happened and why," he said and while no one actually moved, there was a general lessening of tension around them, as if everyone was settling, ready to listen to Glorfindel’s tale.

"To answer your question first," he said, looking at Galadriel, "I knew of your brother, as everyone did, but it was not until we both found ourselves in Mandos that we became gwedyr."

Eyebrows were raised at that revelation and Glorfindel hid a smile. "We were the bane of Lord Námo’s existence," he said with a smirk and was rewarded with several jaundiced looks. "Just ask Mithrandir," he added with a glint of mischief.

Now everyone was staring at the Wizard, who continued puffing on his pipe for another moment or two, his eyes hidden under shaggy brows. Finally he took the pipe out of his mouth. "Mandos never fully recovered from the experience," he said.

"Someday we’d like to hear the entire story about that," Elladan said, turning back to Glorfindel, "but I’m more interested in learning about Great Uncle’s wedding."

"Well, as I said, Finrod and I became gwedyr while in Mandos," Glorfindel continued. "However, Finrod was released about a century earlier than I."

"And he and Amarië still weren’t married by then?" Galadriel asked with a frown. "How odd."

"Not really," Glorfindel replied. "One thing you need to understand is that when we Reborn are released we do not have all our memories intact. That comes over time and some memories never return. When Finrod was released, he barely recognized his own parents and had no memory of Amarië at all."

"How terrible," one of the Lothlórien ellith exclaimed.

"It is what it is," Glorfindel said with a shrug. "At any rate, by the time I was released, the two of them were only just on speaking terms with one another."

"Even after a century?" Lindir interrupted with a snort of disbelief "It’s a wonder they ever got married."

Glorfindel smiled. "Some people wondered as well. You have to keep in mind that Reborn have the emotional maturity of thirty-year-olds and it takes them approximately a century to reach the emotional maturity they enjoyed at the time of their death. Finrod was only just reaching that stage when I was released and he was just beginning to see Amarië as more than, well, a nuisance." He gave them a knowing smile.

"Oh dear," Galadriel said, shaking her head at the implication of Glorfindel’s words.

"‘Oh dear’ is right," Glorfindel said with a nod. "At any rate, I was released from Lórien, where all Reborn go for a time before they are allowed to re-enter society, at about that time and I was accompanied by another Reborn, a Sinda named Sador, who died at the Havens of Sirion. As neither of us had any family who would acknowledge us, we were more or less adopted by King Arafinwë and Queen Eärwen and became members of their court. In fact, Finrod, Sador and I even called each other ‘hanar’ rather than ‘gwador’."

Eyebrows went up again. Galadriel gave him a haughty look that was ruined by the glimmer of humor in her eyes. "Well, if you think you can call me ‘neth’, you are sorely mistaken."

Everyone was grinning. Glorfindel glanced at Celeborn sitting next to his wife and saw how the ellon was trying hard not to laugh. Then he looked at Galadriel still sitting there imperiously and leaned forward, whispering very loudly, "Neth, neth, neth."

Now everyone was laughing, or at least the Elves from Imladris; those from Lothlórien were stifling their humor, knowing they would have to travel back home with their Lady and they did not want to incur her displeasure. Glorfindel leaned back with a smirk, as if he’d scored a particular point in a game, and took a sip of his wine. Galadriel, to her credit, refused to be baited. "So you were saying... hanar?"

Now Glorfindel’s eyebrow went up and then he nodded, giving the Lady of the Golden Wood a smile as he continued his narrative. "Not too long afterwards, Finrod and Amarië started to have an understanding between them. I think Finrod was beginning to fall in love with her again, but neither was ready to make a commitment."

He paused to take another sip of his wine, realized his goblet was empty and frowned. Elladan, seeing this, reached over to pick up one of the fuller wine bottles on the table and silently offered to fill his captain’s goblet. Glorfindel smiled his thanks, and after it was filled, he took an appreciative sip, then continued his narrative.

"Then the New Year’s Ball arrived that was being held in Vanyamar, King Ingwë’s city, and the Noldorin royal family was there, including me and Sador. Amarië’s naneth, Lady Almáriel, invited Finrod to tea and naturally Sador and I came along to lend him moral support."

"I remember Almáriel," Galadriel said with a nod. "A rather formidable elleth. I always felt sorry for Amarië having to put up with her as her naneth."

"Sador thought she was a balrog in disguise," Glorfindel said blandly and there was laughter among his listeners. "Anyway, Queen Eärwen was also present at the tea and Lady Almáriel kept pressuring Finrod to commit to a betrothal which was to be announced at the Ball. She felt a Midsummer wedding would be most appropriate." He gave them a sly look. "Sador and I agreed."

Eyebrows went up again and there was some soft murmuring among them. Celeborn gave him a shrewd look. "I doubt if Finrod was pleased by your... betrayal."

"He was... unhappy," Glorfindel replied blandly, "but only until Sador later pointed out that the good lady never specified on which Midsummer the wedding should be held."

"Oh ho," Elrond exclaimed, shaking a finger at Glorfindel. "That was very bad of you." Several people snickered at the Master of Imladris’ tone, speaking to the Elf-lord as if he were a naughty elfling.

Glorfindel smiled. "Perhaps, but the upshot was that when Finrod and Amarië announced their betrothal, Finrod stated that the wedding would take place on Midsummer’s Day... twelve years hence."

"Twelve years!" Elrohir exclaimed with a laugh and many joined him. "Oh my! I bet Lady Almáriel wasn’t very happy about that."

"To say the least," Glorfindel replied, "but there was nothing she could do about it, and indeed, we all needed those twelve years before we could concentrate on the wedding. Much happened during the intervening time and it was a few years before the dust settled, as it were."

Erestor gave him a shrewd look. "Something tells me that you are leaving much out of this tale, mellon nîn."

Glorfindel shrugged. "If I were to tell you everything, we’d be here for a very long time. Let me just tell you that at the time of the wedding, Sador was living on Tol Eressëa and Finrod had long removed himself to Lórien where he helped to minister to other Reborn. I was living in a small community called Aewellond, far to the north, ruled over by Eärendil and Elwing." There were murmurs of surprise at that revelation. Glorfindel raised a hand to stem the tide of questions that he knew were on everyone’s lips. "As I said, it would take too long to explain everything. The reasons for my being there are not important. About a month or two before the wedding I returned to Tirion to help Finrod with the preparations. Keep in mind that I’d only been a Reborn for about fifteen years and my... um... maturity was still... um... questionable."

"Some things never change," Erestor said with a wicked smile and Glorfindel stuck his tongue out at him while everyone else laughed. When they were calmer, Glorfindel resumed his narrative.

"So, there I was, ready to lend assistance to my hanar as he and all of Eldamar prepared for what many felt was a long-overdue event...."

****

Words are Sindarin:

Gwedyr: Plural of gwador: Sworn brother.

Ellith: Plural of elleth: Female Elf.

Naneth: Mother.

Ellon: Male Elf. The plural is ellyn.

Hanar: Brother.

Neth: Sister.

Mellon nîn: My friend.