- Chapter One -
“Class dismissed.”
They were Glorfindel’s two favorite words in the world. Closing his primer shut with a loud snap as the other students were doing the same, he shoved the book into his schoolbag along with the heavy slate used for practicing writing. Carefully he wrapped the chunk of powdery white chalk in the cloth that was used to wipe the board clean. Cringing when he tried to put the wadded up cloth into his bag and found a hindrance, he reached in and pulled out the apple he was supposed to have given his instructor at the beginning of the day.
Pulling out the shiny red fruit, he set it on his desktop as the rest of his peers began to file out of the room. Pushing his chair in slowly as the room emptied, he slung his sack over his shoulder and then picked up the apple in both hands, walking to the front of the room as he made a face, biting his lip.
Master Erestor did not look up immediately, for he was cleaning up his own mess consisting of assignments he had collected and a pile of precariously stacked abacuses. Tentatively, Glorfindel set the apple on the corner of the desk where there was barely space for it to rest. His instructor looked up, giving him a smile. “Thank you, young Lord Glorfindel, ‘tis just what I need after a busy day.”
“I apologize for not remembering sooner,” he said, frowning at the bruises on the apple. “I think I may have kicked it once or twice on accident.”
Reaching over his desk, Erestor ruffled the lad’s hair. “Well, I thank you all the same, and still it will make a nice snack. Now, off you go,” Erestor said with a pat to the top of the boy’s golden head.
Glorfindel had nearly forgotten- they’d been dismissed! The afternoon was his until dinner to do what he pleased. It was late summer, and there were plenty of things a young elf could do to keep occupied. Perhaps he would go to the stables where they would be feeding the horses now and the stable hands would allow them to sit on the high wall and aid in brushing the gentle colts, or to the gardens where workers would be returning from a day of harvesting and reward those elflings who listened to them speak of their day with a handful of fresh berries or plums. There were also the kitchens, where the daily meal was being prepared. The youths who went there would find themselves employed in helping to set the long tables of the great hall, but they would also have chance to hear the old minstrel Lindir practicing his songs for that evening. Elflings were not allowed into the Hall of Fire, and so this was as close as any would get to the evening performance.
His favorite thing to do, however, was to visit the office of Lord Elrond. When he had been very little, before he had started school with the rest of his friends in Imladris, he would wait in the shadows across from the room, and slip into the room when someone else entered and did not close the door. One day while trying to sneak in, the elf who entered had not been inside long enough, and Glorfindel bumped into his legs as he was leaving. Sternly, he was scrutinized by the Imladris seneschal, but Lord Elrond said, “Nevermind him, ‘tis only my shadow. He visits me every day.”
So shocked that the Lord had known of his sneaking into the room, he could do nothing but stand and stare. When Lord Elrond looked up, Glorfindel had taken a step back, but a warm smile and a hand that beckoned him forward brought the elfling closer to the desk. “Don’t be shy now, Glorfindel. You’ve been coming here for three or four months, have you not?”
“Yes, sir,” he had answered.
“Do your parents know that you sneak into my office?”
“No, sir,” he said.
“Does anyone know that you have been sneaking into my office, other than myself?”
“Yes, sir. My best friend, sir. She knows.”
“I did not know you had a friend sneaking in with you,” the peredhel had replied, but Glorfindel had shaken his head.
“No, sir. She’s shy, sir. She actually only talks to me, sir.”
Lord Elrond smiled, recalling the imaginary friends he and his brother had had long years ago, and their tenancy to speak only to them and to no one else. “I see. Well, young Glorfindel, would you care to tell me why you sneak into my office?”
Glorfindel had been only too happy to. “You get to talk to everybody; I get to learn who everybody is. My Adar says things like ‘Lord Elrond says we must do this and this and this, but we should do this and this and that’, and I wanted to know why you do this and this and this and not this and this and that, but my Nana said not to bother you, so I said I would be very quiet. Then she said you would not like it if you knew I was in the room, so I thought if I hid and was quiet, that would not be bad. Besides, I don’t tell anyone about what I hear and see. Well, only my best friend, but she’s the only one who thinks it to be interesting.”
“She sounds very intelligent,” Lord Elrond said, not knowing quite what else to say to the lad’s admission of eavesdropping.
Glorfindel nodded. “I think she’s smarter than me.”
Clearing off the corner of his desk, Lord Elrond patted it and said, “I do not know how you can properly observe things if you hide in the shadows.”
Taking him a moment to figure out what Lord Elrond had meant, Glorfindel grinned and approached the desk. “Well, I hate the shadows,” he said as the seneschal finally left the room.
Picking Glorfindel up around the waist and lifting him up to sit on the cleared part of the desk, Lord Elrond said, “I will let you come here when you wish to observe what goes on, if you promise me two things. First, whatever goes on in here is a secret. You may talk to your parents about it,” he said (for Glorfindel’s father was chief advisor to Elrond at this time), “and you may talk to me of course, but you must not say anything to anyone else.”
“I can ask you questions? About anything?” Glorfindel’s green eyes glittered with excitement.
“Any time you like. Except, when there are others here. That is the second part. When I am meeting with someone, you must remain quiet. You must be my shadow.”
“I can do that,” said Glorfindel, trying to find a comfortable way to sit on the desk.
“And I shall have another chair brought so that you may sit beside me and watch me work if you like,” Lord Elrond had told him.
In the office now were two chairs, and originally Glorfindel had been a daily visitor. As he came of an age to go to school, less time was spent asking questions in Elrond’s office and more time was spent practicing his reading, writing, and arithmetic. At first the young elf was discouraged, but Lord Elrond promised him it would only serve to allow him to better understand what went on in the office. So, Glorfindel directed the majority of his efforts to his learning, making him one of Master Erestor’s top pupils.
With the few hours of free time he had, Glorfindel decided it had been too many days since he had last been to see Lord Elrond, and his feet took him in the direction of the office. As he climbed the often deserted stairs that led to the offices of Lord Elrond and his staff, Glorfindel beamed. “Good afternoon!”
“Glorfindel!” The light and happy voice of his best friend was a musical sound, but always was there an edge of sadness to her words. “It is so good to see you! How were your classes?”
“They went very well today. How were yours?” he asked, for the young ellyn were schooled by Headmaster Erestor, and the young ellith by Headmistress Celebrian, a very pretty elf who would sometimes come to Lord Elrond’s office and make him blush from time to time, but always made him happier after her visits.
“Mine went well, too. I suppose you are going to go to speak with Lord Elrond,” she said sadly.
Glorfindel paused in his climb up the steps. “I was going to. What were you going to do?” His smile faded when he saw her shrug her shoulders, the fabric of her white dress, for she always wore white, fluttering slightly. “We could go out to the stables or the gardens,” he suggested, but she shook her head as he knew she would. Never did she wish to go outside, for the sunlight, she said, burned her delicate pale skin. A few times they ventured out secretly at night, but these were rare adventures indeed. “I have an idea,” he said, climbing the rest of the stairs. And without warning, he ran by, reaching his hand out to tap her shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!” He barely felt his hand touch her, but he knew he had and raced down the hallway.
“Tag, YOU’RE it,” she giggled, and before he knew it, she had caught up to him, ghosting her hand upon his arm. Her giggles continued as Glorfindel skidded to a halt and turned around to give chase, his best friend having already glided back to the stairs.
“I’ll get you!” he promised, and looping the straps of his schoolbag up over his head as well so that it was more secure, he took hold of the post at the top of the stairs, lifting one leg over the banister. Sliding down to the bottom of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of her disappearing around the corner of the hallway. With so many elves finishing their work for the day and the elflings having been dismissed from classes nearly twenty minutes ago, the hallways were practically empty. Glorfindel chased his fast friend from room to room, but always she evaded him. He was amazed at how quickly she was able to open the doors and close them again before he reached the room and pulled the door open, only to have her swerve around him and start the chase again.
Coming around to a hallway that led only to a pair of double doors and a dead end, Glorfindel thought he had his chance at a victory. With a cry of joy, he leapt in the path- and found nothing but the large wooden doors leading to the room forbidden to elflings.
His eyes followed the doors up to the ceiling and back down again. Surely, she didn’t forget! Looking behind him, he saw no one in the immediate area. Not wanting her to be in trouble, he nervously walked to the doors and knocked on them. Checking around once more, he took hold of the handle of the door on the right and pulled with all his might, which is what it took to budge the heavy door.
It seemed so strange that a place called The Hall of Fire should be so dark. “We can’t play in here,” he whispered. Taking another few steps in, he added, “We have to leave.”
“Why?” asked the giggling voice, and she poked her head out from behind one of the tapestries hanging on the wall. “This is one of the best rooms to play in!”
“You shouldn’t play in here! It’s forbidden!” hissed Glorfindel.
A puzzled look came over her face. “Why not? I’ve been in here many times,” she said.
With wide eyes, Glorfindel shook his head. “You can’t be! You can only be here if you are an adult- Lord Elrond says no children in here, at all!”
There was no immediate response, but then voices could be heard in the halls. “I have to go!” she said, swiftly gliding past Glorfindel.
“Wait, you’ll be caught, and-“ Turning around quickly, Glorfindel’s eyes had focused on his friend until she raced around the corner of the hall, disappearing from his view. Then he shifted to look at a spot on the wall where a dim light from some high windows was cast upon the wall. There was a tapestry on this wall, three of them in fact, but the largest one was in the middle, in front of and above where Glorfindel stood. Up this close, it was hard to tell what the image was of, and so he slowly backed up, ignoring the voices from the hall.
The mountain was the first thing he made out, tall and bleak, and an ugly grey. Light reflected from it, and there was a sky of fire in the background. There was an elf on the tapestry, but his back was to the viewer. His sword was raised and his shield before him, and on it to Glorfindel’s delight was the familiar symbol of a yellow sunburst that adorned the blankets on his parents’ horses. Something cold raced up his spine as he took another step back, and he scanned up, past the elf and the mountain, to the flaming sky.
Gleaming yellow eyes caught his own. Glorfindel’s breathing came quickly, and he stood frozen as the image to him came to life before his eyes. He had never before seen a beast such as this in any book he had ever read, nor had it been described to him by anyone. With blackened flesh and fire snorted from its nostrils, it wielded a flaming whip, cracking it in the smoky air.
There was a roar from this creature, a most terrible noise and Glorfindel, whimpering as he fell to his knees, covered his hands over his ears. Shaking and gasping for air, Glorfindel watched it rear up, this horned beast with such a foul stench. It bared it’s teeth, spread its wings, and growled as it drew back the lash. Screaming rose up from around him, and Glorfindel did not realize until later the screams were his own.
“Glorfindel!” It was Lindir who had made it to the room first, but Master Erestor had not been far behind. Scooping the elfling up into his arms, Erestor covered Glorfindel’s eyes and rushed him from the room. Screams had turned to open sobs, and Erestor held the boy close until Lord Elrond came racing down the hallway, his chief advisor rushing alongside him.
Master Erestor shifted the weeping elfling into his father’s arms. Clinging tightly to his Adar, Glorfindel screamed again, and again, and then collapsed against him, fists gripping fine fabric to the point of nearly ripping it. “Ion-nin, oh, my son, I am so sorry it happened like this. So sorry, little one, I’m so sorry,” his father repeated over and over. Elrond stood close, stroking Glorfindel’s head in an attempt to bring him extra comfort. Master Erestor closed the doors to the hall as he directed Lindir to have someone come to have the tapestry removed.
Sniffling and trying in vain to wipe his eyes, Glorfindel adamantly shook his head and said, “No.”
“Ion-nin, we should have had that monstrosity burned long ago,” countered his father, but Glorfindel rubbed his nose and continued to shake his head.
“I want to see it again.” His eyes were red, his words shaky, but he was determined. “Please, I don’t understand it. Please, let me see it. I don’t want to see it, but I have to see it.”
Looking into his reborn son’s eyes for a long while, he finally nodded. “Alright.” Still holding Glorfindel, he walked to the doors as Erestor opened them. Lord Elrond entered as well, moving to a large pit where he began to start a fire. “Tell me if you want to go, though, ion-nin.”
Glorfindel nodded as the room was illuminated with the light of the fire. His father had walked across the room before turning them around to see the tapestry. From this far back, it did not look as terrible as it had up close, but Glorfindel felt his stomach clench in fear all the same. “What is that thing?” he asked.
“It is a Valarauka. A fallen Maia. Some call them Balrogs.” He felt his son shiver at the mention of the name. “They attacked a place called Gondolin, where we used to live.”
“Gondolin.” Glorfindel thought he remembered that, although he had never heard the word before. Or had he? “When did we live in Gondolin?”
His father swallowed hard, and then answered, “A long time ago. Hundreds and hundreds of years in the past.”
“Then I did not live there.”
“Yes, you did,” his father said softly, and slowly he began to walk forward. Halfway, Glorfindel buried his head against his father’s shoulder, the yellow eyes boring into him again. “Glorfindel, ion-nin, look. You will not see the monster. Look.”
Glorfindel slowly peeked out. They were so close, the only thing they could see was the elf at the bottom, taking up a bold stance against the monster. “Why isn’t anyone helping him fight that thing?”
“He told everyone else to run. To leave. The city was burning. He wanted to save as many people as he could, even if that meant he might die. He saved many, including his parents,” said his father said proudly.
“He saved my father,” spoke Lord Elrond. “Only a small babe at the time, along with my grandparents, who were able to escape only for him, holding off this beast.”
“He saved me,” added Lindir. “I was young, barely your age at the time. Had he not distracted that thing, I do not know if I would have made it out of Gondolin.”
“Who is he?” Glorfindel finally asked. “What was his name?” His questions went unanswered as he reached forward and touched the threads of gold that were weaved to make the sun kissed hair of the warrior depicted. The same precious strands of gold burst across the shield, and along the blade of the sword they had been used, so that anyone who did not know who it was who had killed this wicked demon need only read the name that was displayed to know.
Tears ran down Glorfindel’s cheeks again. A great swell of emotion was within him, a combination of so many things he could barely sort out his thoughts and feelings. “My name is Glorfindel,” he said quietly. The other elves had joined him and his father close to the tapestry, and were bowing their heads in reverence. His father nodded. “I’m Glorfindel.”
“Yes,” he was answered.
“Of Gondolin,” Glorfindel said, and he drew his hand back, daring to look up at the yellow eyes far up on the wall. “Adar?”
“Yes, ion-nin?”
“Can Glorfindel of Gondolin have a nap?”
Hugging his son close, his father nodded. “Absolutely.”
- Chapter Two -
“Happy day, oh, joyful celebration!” Rumil’s cheeks were tinged red from imbibing too much alcohol for one of his age. He was fifty-two; the celebration was for his friend, a fellow warrior who had just come of age. “Tell us, Glorfindel, how does it feel to finally be fifty?”
“Better than the second time, because this time I can skip making a fool of myself and move right to properly wooing the ladies,” he countered, lifting his mug of ale, which was mostly untouched.
“Enjoy my friend, and may your bed not be cold for long!” Rumil offered as a toast, clinking his glass to Glorfindel’s.
The official ceremony had been many hours ago, and was not truly the day marking Glorfindel’s fiftieth year, but a day marking the coming of age of all who had turned so during the past months. It was the eve of the new year, reserved for this celebration as always. Glorfindel was delighted to find that a few of his friends from his time spent in battle training in Lothlorien had been able to attend the festivities.
“Ah, but give yourself a little time, friend,” advised Orophin, the elder brother of Rumil. He was a few hundred years older, and married, so spoke from experience. “Marriage is bliss, but be sure you are certain of the commitment before you make it.”
Glorfindel nodded at the wise words, and spied his teacher from many years past in the crowded hall. “Excuse me, I shall return.” After dismissing himself from the current conversation, Glorfindel intercepted Erestor at one of the tables laden with desserts. “Master Erestor, I just wanted to thank you for your recommendation of me to the guard.”
“Glorfindel, you are more than welcome, my young friend.” Erestor selected a decadent fruit filled pastry and stepped with Glorfindel away from the table. “You were very a very studious pupil, and no doubt you will continue to be as you train for the guard. Not that I suspect you shall have all that much difficulty.”
The ellon beamed. Through the years he had come to accept the tragedy of his past, and was quite comfortable with discussion of it. That Erestor was not simply basing his referral on Glorfindel’s past alone, however, made the warrior of past and future quite proud. “Thank you. I promise I will not disappoint you.”
“I do not doubt your words,” said Erestor with a smile. “Ah, but I suppose I am keeping you from the celebration. Your friends, I am sure, wish to make merry with you- or, perhaps, a young lady you favor still has well wishes for you?”
This was when Glorfindel frowned, unable to erase the glum look upon his face. “Sorry,” apologized Erestor. “Something I said, I’m sure.”
“No... well, yes, and no, it isn’t you.” Glorfindel let out a sigh as he scanned the room again. “It seems she has again had something else to do this night.”
“Beg your pardon, but who would that be?” Erestor questioned curiously, hastily retrieving his goblet of wine from the table where he had forgotten it.
“My best friend, she... we knew each other a long time. Grew up together, actually,” Glorfindel said, fond memories flooding him once more. “Until just a few months ago, she and I were nearly inseparable, except for when I trained in Lothlorien. Other than that, it is as if she is my shadow.”
Now Erestor, too, was glancing through the crowd, trying to find a lost elleth, looking for Glorfindel, that by some chance she might be there. Everyone seemed to be happily conversing or dancing or eating, and he turned back to Glorfindel. “Perhaps if you had a name,” suggested Erestor, “I might be able to aide you. There have been a few ladies who recently went to apprentice in Lindon, but it does seem odd she would not have told you where she was going.”
“The last time I saw her was the night before my fiftieth begetting day,” Glorfindel said gloomily. “Erithiel and I were in the kitchens after hours and-“
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall, and everyone turned to regard the situation. At Erestor’s feet, his wine glass was in pieces, and liquid red as blood splattered the floor, and the bottom cuffs of the trousers both he and Glorfindel were wearing. “I know, I know, I should not have been about like that after curfew, even if it was only a day before my majority-“ began Glorfindel in apology.
“What did you say her name was?” Erestor’s voice was breathless, choked for air. His skin was paling to a ghostly white and Glorfindel stumbled to find his own words.
“Erithiel is what she had me call her.”
There was a buzz in the room among the older elves and much confusion with the younger crowd. Erestor took a step back, tears in his eyes. “You-“ His voice cracked, and he breathed in a pained sob. “I cannot believe you would play such a horrible trick, not at your age,” he managed to whisper before turning abruptly around to leave.
Glorfindel stepped forward with the intent of following after him, but was stopped by a slender elleth with a worried look on her face. “What did you say to him?” she demanded. When Glorfindel, feeling lost now, stared at the ellon who retreated, the lady demanded in a more forceful voice. “Tell me what it is that you said. I am his wife; I will know what you did to upset him so.”
The story tumbled from Glorfindel as the party commenced again, a more somber tone to the celebration now. This time, Glorfindel was able to add other information, such as when he had first seen Erithiel, how she acted, what she wore, and so on. “She has such a beautiful voice,” he commented. “I wish you might hear it; she sings like an angel.”
“I have heard it,” replied the elleth, whose name was Faerfaen. “I have heard it because Erithiel is Erestor’s older sister. She was a singer and a harpist, a lovely lady.”
“Older sister?” Glorfindel’s puzzlement grew. “That cannot be, for she was my age when Erestor schooled me.”
“Nay,” Faerfaen informed him grimly. “She died, a long time ago. In this very house,” she added.
“What? How?” Glorfindel’s fearful look caused Faerfaen to suggest that they retire from the party.
She took him to the main doors, where the staircases went up on both sides and met at the center to create a balcony that overlooked the entrance. “Erithiel was a bright girl with a promising future. Her parents were wonderful elves- her father and architect, her mother a kind, considerate elleth. It was on the night of the yearly majority ceremony that she was found- right here.” Faerfaen pointed to the center of the hall. “No one quite knew what happened. There were rumors, but Elrond found no wounds, no signs she had fallen. For Erestor, it was a terrible thing to witness.”
“Was he the one who found her?” asked Glorfindel.
Faerfaen shook her head. “He heard the commotion and came to see what was the matter. No one noticed him slip out of bed and come here; he had so wanted to come to the party but his parents promised him that the next year, when he turned thirty, he could come. Erithiel made a big point about taking him to the hall before the celebration and having a dance with him there. She promised to sneak home some treats from the party for him, and he had been waiting up for her.”
“I had no idea.” Glorfindel sat down on the bottom step, looking at the spot on the floor where countless years ago such a terrible thing had occurred. “What about the Lady Galadriel and her mirror? Could there be a way to find out what happened by asking her?”
“Alas, that was tried. Lord Elrond made several attempts of his own, but his powers are in future events and not concentrated on the past.” Faerfaen carefully minded her skirts as she sat down beside Glorfindel. The sounds from the party could be heard faintly in the entryway. “The mystery, it seems, continues. Your confidence that you have seen her, and spoken with her, makes me wonder.” Faerfaen continued to contemplate for a little while, and then asked Glorfindel to come with her to her home. He hesitated at first, but she assured him that she had used her mind to speak with her husband, and that he wished very much to speak with Glorfindel.
- - -
“You must understand what a shock it was to hear her name again.” Erestor had just sat down at his desk, but with the chair turned the opposite way so that he could speak to Glorfindel, who was in the sitting room. Faerfaen was pulling a sheet of warm cookies from the small oven, and set them upon the counter to cool.
Over the last two hours, Glorfindel told Erestor everything he knew about Erithiel. There were times when Erestor would be silent, his eyes wandering as he reminisced, and other times when he would ask questions about things that Glorfindel said. It was becoming all too painfully obvious that the visions that Glorfindel had had over the past fifty years were of Erestor’s deceased sister.
“Perhaps, as Faerfaen has suggested, Erithiel is haunting the house.” Glorfindel accepted the glass of milk and plate of cookies he was offered as Erestor was lured into the sitting room by the treats. “Is there any reason why she would not wish to leave?”
Clenching his teeth, Erestor now had a sour look on his face. “Belgreth,” he answered. “She was being courted by an ellon- a very young one, destined to be a warrior. Except...”
“Except, what?” prodded Glorfindel.
“Except that she never seemed all that fond of him; he was quite a lot younger,” recalled Erestor. “He left about ten years after she...” Erestor took a deep breath. “He went to Greenwood; met an unfortunate end. If she was staying here for him, then why would she have really stayed when he left?”
“She could be tied to the house somehow,” Glorfindel suggested. “Maybe she is unable to leave for some reason. Or,” he further supposed, “she might be staying for you and your parents.”
Erestor smiled sadly. “My parents were grief-stricken when...” Another deep breath. “They sailed not long after her...” His hands shook as he placed his teacup on the table, and he voice took on a much more serious tone. “Glorfindel, I really don’t know how you are able to speak to her and see her, but I would give anything to be able to talk to her one more time. There are countless things I wanted to say to her- I’m sure I’ll forget them all,” he added quickly. “But... do you think that, maybe, if I... if I give you a message...”
Bowing his head, Glorfindel said, “I have not seen her in months, not since I turned fifty. I have felt, since that time that something is wrong. She is still here, but there is something keeping her from me.”
“Some... evil force?” guessed Faerfaen.
Shaking his head, Glorfindel said, “I think it is something else. I... I think it might be me.”
“Not since you turned fifty,” mused Erestor. “On the last night you saw her, you told me you were still not at your majority. What did you say to her?”
“I remember it quite clearly,” answered Glorfindel a bit sheepishly.
- - -
<i>“Shh! Quiet!” Erithiel giggled. “You make too much noise, Glorfie.”
Grinning and covering a snicker, Glorfindel replied, “I’m surprised your laughing didn’t wake the whole house!” Looking around to be sure no one was still in the kitchen, Glorfindel pulled the cabinets open in hopes of finding the ingredients he would need to make a late-night batch of fudge brownies. “Sure you aren’t hungry?”
Erithiel shook her head.
“I can make something else if you like,” offered Glorfindel. “I can cook all kinds of things. Just wait until we’re married and-“
“M-m-m-married?” The smile fell from Erithiel’s face. “W-w-what do you mean, m-m-married?”
“I... erm... well...” Glorfindel tried to take hold of her hand, but she whisked herself away and out of his grasp. “You and I, we just... we’re so perfect together! We can finish each other’s sentences and we like the same things and we make each other laugh, for good reasons.” Fiddling with his hands he added, “And... and I love you.”
Unable to reply, Erithiel turned away and went to the window. Glorfindel followed, standing close but not attempting to touch her. “Maybe it was too much for me to hope for,” he said softly. “I just guess I assumed, since you will be reaching your majority soon, and I will reach mine tomorrow-“
“Tomorrow?” asked Erithiel with alarm.
“Yes... yes, why? Is something the matter?” Glorfindel tried to read deeper into her expression as she turned around, but she was smiling faintly and showed no real sign of sadness.
“I- I just forgot, and I haven’t a present for you,” she stammered.
With a warm smile, Glorfindel said, “Worry not. The ceremony isn’t until the end of the year, as you know. You have over four months- but really, I don’t need anything more from you than to just have you here with me.”
“Oh, but... but I want to get you a present,” stated Erithiel. “In fact,” she said, slipping around Glorfindel and in the direction of the door, “I am going to hurry myself to- well, I can not say where, but I may still be able to have a gift for you tomorrow.” With a wink, Erithiel slid around the door and disappeared.</i>
- - -
“You have not seen her since?” asked Erestor. Glorfindel shook his head and Erestor let out a long sigh.
“From what you described,” said Faerfaen, “she seemed very distraught about you reaching your majority.”
“Really?” Glorfindel shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Because you’re an ellon,” mumbled Faerfaen to herself. “Glorfindel, she ran away- and from what you have said earlier this evening, the two of you were inseparable.”
Looking down at his hands, Glorfindel said, “We were. That is what makes this whole situation so difficult for me.”
“For both of us.” Erestor wandered to a small table and pulled out the single drawer. He shuffled through the contents and removed from it a drawing which he brought to Glorfindel, who gasped and found himself entranced by the image. “My sister, a portrait done on her day of majority.”
Glorfindel held the portrait gingerly in his hands. “I need to find her again. For both of us.” Looking up at Erestor, Glorfindel said, “I hope I am not too forward in saying this, but I think... I believe that she and I may be meant for one another. Somehow, I just feel it.”
“I would have to say that the special bond you have with her that allows you to see her and to communicate is proof enough of that,” replied Erestor. “I only wish I had some way of knowing where she was and why she ran away.”
“Might I make a suggestion?” Faerfaen stood from her chair and came over to the sofa, sitting between her husband and Glorfindel. “It seems that there is a common theme in all of this- coming of age. The most unfortunate event happened on the eve of a majority party; she disappeared from you when you made mention of having reached your majority.”
Still staring at the image in the portrait of the lovely elleth with the shy smile, Glorfindel said, “Could it be that my own majority party caused her distress, in recalling past events?”
“That is possible,” reasoned Faerfaen. “But then, I would have expected her to disappear tonight, not on the true day of your majority. There must be something more. You must remind her of something more specific.”
“Maybe I just scared her off when I started to talk about marriage,” sighed Glorfindel. “It was a bit much, too much too fast, wasn’t it?”
Faerfaen patted his hand. “I think, for you it was not. You lived a whole life already- you are much more mature than others your age. I doubt that is quite what caused her to flee.”
Glorfindel handed the portrait back to Erestor. “What about this Belgreth you mentioned? You said he was courting her, but you did not think her fond of him.”
“She thought he was ‘too much’. That was all she would tell me- I was so young, I doubt I would have understood much else,” admitted Erestor. “He was quite serious, though. The gifts he brought her were always very fine, and I recall him promising her many things. It was very sad, really, for her to have... well, the night she did, that was his own day... of... majority...” The words Erestor said and their meaning hit him as he spoke them. “That night- he turned fifty that night.”
“Where was he when Erithiel was found at the entryway?” questioned Glorfindel.
“He was the one who came to the hall to tell us- oh, blessed Eru!” Faerfaen placed her hand to her mouth. “How could we not see it? No one ever suspected him, but- he would have been the last to see her, and if she- if he, if he tried to force her- he would have been at his majority that night, he was drinking-“ Cutting herself off as her husband paled, Faerfaen said, “The only way we shall ever know is to ask her.”
“We must find her first,” reminded Glorfindel.
“I know where she is,” said Erestor quietly. “If she is still here, as you think she may be, she is probably hiding. Come, I will show you.”
- Chapter Three -
The halls had been cleaned of the remnants from the celebration, and the flames in the Hall of Fire had long since been extinguished. The three elves entered, with only the flicker of their candles to guide their way. Glorfindel tried not to look at it, but his eyes strayed to the fierce balrog displayed on the large tapestry. With a shiver, he turned away and followed after Erestor.
At one end of the room, Erestor showed them a door with a lock unlike most of the others in the house. “My father was the one who designed this house. There are many hidden places, and small chambers all about. This is one of them; a place used to store extra furniture. It has been years since anyone has used it for that,” he explained, pulling out of his pocket an old skeleton key. He turned it in the lock, looking surprised when the key turned easily.
When the door was opened, all three took a step back. There was a definite chill felt by all. Glorfindel peered into the room, and something caught his attention, making him smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “We came because we were worried.”
“Erithiel?” Erestor’s voice was hopeful, but when he stepped further in, he bowed his head in disappointment.
Faerfaen came forth in wonder, listening to Glorfindel’s conversation.
“I think we have some thing figured out,” and then, “It was Belgreth, wasn’t it?” and also, “I would never, ever do anything you did not wish, and I would most certainly not think to drug you to get you to do such a thing. I love you.”
“Drug her?” Grabbing hold of Glorfindel’s arm, Erestor demanded to know what was meant by this.
“Belgreth tried to drug her, to get her to... well, he wasn’t very chivalrous, that’s for sure,” Glorfindel answered pointedly. “The trouble was, he had never done such a thing. Instead of drugging Erithiel, he poisoned her.”
Erestor shuddered and Faerfaen rushed to his side to keep him standing as he shook and tried to see Erithiel. “That bastard,” he finally managed, his fists balled tight. “If he weren’t dead, I’d kill him.”
Glorfindel was listening to Erithiel and suddenly began to shake his head. “You cannot do that! We only just- no, you listen to me! You tell him you spent enough time in this state of torture, wandering the house without any way of leaving it.”
“What? What’s going on?” demanded Erestor.
“She could not rest in peace until the truth was discovered,” Glorfindel said in a rush. “Now Namo wishes to take her soul to Mandos, so that it might heal before she is reborn.”
“What? What? No, no, Glorfindel- you have to stop him!” Erestor grabbed wildly at the blond ellon, nearly toppling them both. “Glorfindel please, please-“
“Erestor, I don’t want to lose her again, either!” Depositing Erestor into Faerfaen’s care, Glorfindel stepped further into the room. “You tell him that I can do it. I can heal you- I know what it’s like to die. I can do this.” For some time, Glorfindel listened and paced a little, and listened more. “Yes, I can!” he said suddenly, adamantly. “Yes, I will.” There was a shorter pause. “Then bind me to her- it is our destiny, is it not? I will die again if she is taken from me. Please, m’lord, save us both.”
Erestor was sitting on the floor clinging to his wife as he watched Glorfindel hold his hand out to someone unseen. The blond closed his eyes and lowered himself gracefully to his knees as he closed his eyes.
A bright, blinding light erupted, causing Erestor to turn away. When he looked back, his heart leapt with joy. “Eri?” His breathing was erratic as tears came to his eyes. “Eri?”
“Ere!” The young elleth who was holding Glorfindel’s hand stumbled forward uneasily, tripping over her own feet. Erestor scrambled forward, wrapping his arms around her in a joyful reunion. “Oh, Ere! I am so glad to be here with you again!” Erithiel was crying with her brother as they hugged each other and even pinched themselves to be sure it was real.
“I never thought I would ever see you here again,” sniffled Erestor, squeezing Erithiel tight. He reached for Glorfindel’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “You did it! You brought her back!”
Looking extremely relieved, Glorfindel nodded. “I apologize for what I did, Erithiel, and I stand by my words. There is no need for you to worry; I can wait as long as you need me to.”
“What are you talking about?” questioned Erestor, looking between the two.
Wiping her tears on the back of her hand, Erithiel said, “Namo wished for me to come with him, but Glorfindel would not allow it. Finally, I was granted leave to stay here, to be given a new body, but on the condition that Glorfindel bind to me and I to him.”
“Oh.” Erestor’s eyes widened. “Oh!”
“Do not worry,” stated Glorfindel again. “When you are truly ready, we shall have the most splendid wedding. Until then, I am content in knowing you are here, and safe, and whole.”
Reaching out to touch Glorfindel’s cheek with her hand, Erithiel said, “You already gave me the most beautiful wedding anyone could ever ask for. You gave me my life back, Glorfie.”
The pair turned when they heard Erestor muffle a snort. “Sorry, I just...”
“How is it that ‘Glorfie’ is funny, but you don’t hear me laugh at ‘Eri’?” questioned Glorfindel with a playful smile.
“Now, now, boys,” teased Faerfaen. “There is a time and place for it, and this is neither.” Standing up, she helped Erestor up from the floor. Glorfindel stood up as well, pulling Erithiel up and wrapping his arms around her so that she could balance on her wobbly legs by leaning against him. “Erestor, I know you want to spend this time with your sister, but you need rest. This has been a long night, and I promise you, she will be here when you wake.”
Erestor nodded, giving his sister one more hug before stepping over to Glorfindel. “Again, I thank you.”
“No reason to thank me, brother.” Glorfindel smiled while Erestor pondered his comment, and smiled back.
With a pat on the shoulder, Erestor said, “Welcome to the family.” He gave his sister another grin. “We have much to catch up on.”
“In the morning?” she requested, and he nodded. Soon, she was alone, left in the small room with Glorfindel. “Well... I can never thank you enough for what you have done for me, Glorfie.”
“Oh, your smile is thanks enough,” he said. He looked her over, taking in her skin, peachy with a healthy glow, and her dark waist-length hair that rippled down her back. She looked so beautiful, so alive. “No doubt you will want to rest,” he suggested. “I am sure we can find rooms for you and-“
“Am I not coming to your room?” Erithiel snuggled closer to Glorfindel. “I just assumed... couples who are bound... they normally sleep in the same room... in the same... bed.”
Glorfindel licked his lips, shifting as her words traveled down to his groin. “I- are you sure you- that is-“
“Glorfie, I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Not ever again,” said Erithiel. “I have gone so long without feeling anything,” she told him, rubbing her cheek against his arm. “I want you to be the one to help me feel everything.”
“Everything?” Glorfindel swallowed hard.
Nodding against his arm, Erithiel rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I never gave you your majority gift, did I?” The elleth tried to leave the room, hoping to entice him to follow, but her wobbly legs began to collapse beneath her. Coming to her rescue, Glorfindel swept her up into his arms. “Much better,” she decided, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Nudging the door open with his shoulder, Glorfindel emerged back into the Hall of Fire. As he approached the door, his eye was drawn to the immense tapestry depicting his doom. For a moment, he froze in his tracks and stared at the beast that stared back. Instead of flinching or stepping back, he looked away with a sudden indifference. He had no need for ghosts of the past to plague him when his present and future was resting in his arms.
- - -
“I am sorry that the rooms are so small.” Glorfindel sighed and shrugged. “At least there is privacy. Being a simple guard does not afford the same luxury I apparently had in Gondolin.”
“Do you remember any of your past life?” asked Erithiel as she was lowered onto the bed gently.
Glorfindel crossed the room and retrieved a candleholder, lit the wicks of all six candles, and then shut the entry door. “Bits and pieces here and there. Lord Elrond says that I will recall more and more of it as time goes by. I suppose you remember everything of your former days.”
“I was only alive for fifty-two years. I’ve been dead for... so long, I cannot even count. And to have my little brother so much older than I am now!” Erithiel laughed giddily. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it! I am just too excited to be alive again. To touch, to smell, to breath, to live.”
“Never say you are sorry for that,” said Glorfindel as he sat upon the edge of the bed. “There is no one happier than I that you are here, that you are no longer in that void. I always wondered why it was that you never quite let me touch you, or hold you, when I could tell you wished so much for me to do such things.”
Sitting up, Erithiel snuggled against Glorfindel. “Will you hold me now?”
His arms embraced her, holding her tight. “And I’ll never let you go,” he promised.
“Will you... do other things this night?”
Glorfindel pulled back only slightly, still holding Erithiel. “I do not want to make you do anything you do not wish to do.”
Erithiel swallowed hard. “What Belgreth did and who he was is nothing like you are. He told me constantly how things would be, what he expected, what I would do when we were bound. The night of his majority, I could not continue. I never wished to hurt him, but he was hurting me, even if he did not realize it. I could not be the sort of wife he wanted.
“I told him we needed to stop, that I was no longer comfortable with him courting me. At first, he seemed a little upset, but then he came to me later with friendly words. He offered me a drink in main hall, near the entrance of the house, but I did not know that he had anything vile in it. I became faint, I fell to the floor unable to move. His first reaction was to kiss me, but then he realized that I was gasping for air. At first he looked scared, but then, he put his hand over my mouth and pinched my nose. And waited.
“My vision clouded, and then it cleared. Still, I could not breathe- and then I knew why. I could see myself as I hovered above the ground. I heard the call home, the call from Namo. Then, I heard Belgreth’s words.”
- - -
<i>“Please, please, you must help her!” Belgreth skidded around the corner, with Lord Elrond and various others who had heard Belgreth’s pleas when he intercepted the lord in the hall.
Elrond dropped to the ground, lowering his head to place his ear to Erithiel’s unmoving chest as his hand reached for the side of her neck. “No pulse, no breath. Belgreth, when did you find her?”
“A few minutes ago, I was just-“
“A few minutes? You left her like this a few minutes?!” reprimanded Elrond’s voice.
“Sir, I had to get help- I was frantic!”
“You should have called for help, then! Someone would have come,” snapped the elf lord as he pressed both hands firmly against her heart, trying to pump life back into the elleth.
Lindir stepped forward, ushering the shocked young ellon towards his friends. “M’lord, no one would have heard over all of the noise of the celebration had he tried. He did what he could.”
“Well, there is nothing I can do.” Elrond looked around for some sign of foul play. “Did you see anyone else here, Belgreth?”
“You... you mean... she’s... she’s dead?” weeped Belgreth, falling to his knees.
“Yes, I’m dead!” shouted Erithiel. “I’m dead because you killed me!” The call of Namo forgotten, Erithiel floated back to the level of the others. “You... you... oooooagh!” Erithiel tried to stomp her foot, but it went through the floor. “You will get yours, Belgreth!” she promised. “What goes around comes around,” she reasoned, more to herself than anyone else since no one else could hear her.
“Perhaps she fell?” suggested one of the ladies, pointing to the balcony. Everyone looked up to where the stairs met, and there were a few gasps and murmurs of things like, ‘Who brought him here?’ and ‘Poor thing, to lose his only sister like this’.
Erithiel flew up to the top of the stairs, looking sadly at her little brother as he stood at the railing. He was barely tall enough to look over the top, one hand clutching the rail and another fisted in the fur of a stuffed toy cow half his size. Tears glistened in his eyes as he began to see what had happened. “Li’l Ere, I’m so sorry.” Kneeling down beside the child who could not see her, she tried to touch him, but her hand passed through his shoulder and he shivered. “Don’t worry. We’ll meet again some day,” she promised.</i>
- - -
“You kept your promise to him,” smiled Glorfindel. “The two of you have all the years of your lives ahead of you now.”
“Yes,” agreed Erithiel. “But tonight... tonight belongs to us. Just you and I alone.” Kissing his jaw, for it was the highest spot she could reach without straining, she asked, “Will you love me tonight?”
“If it is your wish, I will,” answered Glorfindel.
Further words were not needed, and were exchanged for sweet kisses that said more than their voices could. Their touches were tentative and gentle, for each explored a territory yet unknown to them. More than once did they share laughter and raw sighs of pleasure as they unclothed each other, taking the time not to rush.
Glorfindel used the pads of his fingers to bring gasps of delight from his newfound lover, while she found he took bliss in every taste she took of his skin with the tip of her tongue. Instinct took over, each of them panting heavily as Erithiel laid back upon the bed and Glorfindel crawled over her on his hands and knees. They looked into each other’s eyes, searching, finding, knowing. Bowing his head down, Glorfindel closed his mouth over Erithiel’s. Her sudden outcry was lost between their lips as he slid within her. His legs shuddered a moment at the feeling of such trust and love shared between them.
It was not their longest coupling, nor their most intense, but it was one of the most beautiful They felt nothing but love as they joined together, body and soul, bound eternally to each other.
- Epilogue -
A little elfling in the Hall of Fire hid his face against his father’s shoulder.
“Oh, ion-nin, do not let it frighten you,” assured his father. “There is nothing there that can hurt you. Completely fake. It’s only a picture.”
Slowly the boy lifted his head. He shivered to see the fire demon on the tapestry, but his eyes traveled down the image and looked at the warrior depicted at the bottom. “Who is that?” asked the elfling.
“That? Ah, a great warrior from Gondolin,” explained his father. There was a small group of elves gathering around the pair as the ellon walked towards the wall. “Now, now, take a look,” he coaxed, for the elfling had hidden his face again. Lord Elrond, Counselor Erestor, and Lindir the Minstrel had joined them by the image on the wall. Nearby, Erithiel and Faerfaen sat on a bench, watching the scene unfold.
Peeking out at the tapestry, the elfling continued to cling to his father. “Why isn’t anyone helping him fight that thing?”
“He told everyone else to run. To leave. The city was burning. He wanted to save as many people as he could, even if that meant he might die. He saved many, including his parents,” said his father said proudly.
“He saved my father,” spoke Lord Elrond. “Only a small babe at the time, along with my grandparents, who were able to escape only for him, holding off this beast.”
“He saved me,” added Lindir. “I was young, barely your age at the time. Had he not distracted that thing, I do not know if I would have made it out of Gondolin.”
“He saved my sister.” Erestor gave his nephew a smile. “He is Glorfindel. Glorfindel of Gondolin.”
“Glorfindel of Imladris,” corrected the elfling’s father.
The elfling blinked. “Ada, you’re Glorfindel.”
Glorfindel smiled, nuzzling his young son and holding him tight. “So I am, Glorelin, so I am.”