Following the encounter with the witch-king, Glorfindel returned with the contingent from Rivendell and secreted himself away to lick wounds unseen.  The win had felt like a loss – the palantir Glorfindel had expected them to find in the debris had been removed a year earlier.  Such a prize would have aided greatly in the battle against evil, and was the main purpose Glorfindel had in convincing Elrond to allow him to empty Rivendell of her soldiers and send them to Fornost.  Faulty information had led to Glorfindel thinking otherwise, and it was a double blow for him not being able to follow after the Nazgul lord.  Elrond had finally been the one to coax him from his sour mood after several failed attempts by other members of the household.

The favor was returned tenfold many years later, when tragedy struck Elrond and the rest of the household.  The temporary loss of his beloved was a pain that could never go away, but Glorfindel did what he could to bring comfort to the Lord of Imladris.  All free time was spent in Elrond’s company, talking or playing chess or taking walks in the garden.  In all ways which Celebrian had been, save for one, Glorfindel was now.  In some ways, he felt it was his penance fulfilled to do so.  In other ways, Elrond filled a gap which Glorfindel had not realized was empty.

There was, as time went on, a slight hope which Glorfindel held onto.  He was too chivalrous to make any untoward advances while Elrond’s lover lie on the other side of the sea.  If, however, they reached Valinor only to learn that Celebrian had found another, Glorfindel would have only too happily continued their companionship – and hoped for more.

He even had a dream where, upon arriving at the docks, he and Elrond were met by Celebrian, now in the arms of Maedhros.  It was a recurring dream, and the same thing happened each time.  Celebrian would welcome them home, and then present Maedhros, her heroic savior, to them.  Her blessing would be given, and Glorfindel would be at leisure to live happily ever after with Elrond.

Happily ever after never seemed to quite happen, however, as Glorfindel realized the moment the ropes were tied off to the pier.  He had been leaning on the railing, daydreaming, deep in the midst of his personal thoughts, when he heard the pleasant sound of shared laughter.

He looked down over the side of the ship, his lips drawn into a straight, tight line.  Celebrian was held in the arms of her husband, and he clung to her with such heartfelt devotion, it made Glorfindel feel like a terribly naughty cat caught in the cream.  His gaze slid downward, until he was staring into the water and saw his reflection below.  A forlorn Elf stared back, his beauty marred by the scar that still cut across his cheek.  “Stupid, ugly idiot,” he muttered.  Slowly, he slunk away from his place on the deck and hid down in the cabin until he could hear no movement on the ship.

His belongings were repacked quickly; he had brought little with him save for a few trinkets, some extra clothing, and his weapons.  Everything else was left in Rivendell, including his beloved Asfaloth, left now in the care of Elladan.  Perhaps it was best this way, he reflected as he walked down the angled platform to the beach.  Too many things would bring back too many memories of what he now realized was only fantasy to him.

As he passed through those gathered on the shore, he tried to decide what path to take once he had weaved through the crowd.  He had no home here, though he had kin, he had no idea where they would be and just what they might think of him suddenly showing up after ages away.  There was no reason to aimlessly wander the streets, so he stopped upon reaching the edge of the joyous reunions and set his pack down beside a tree.

“What am I doing here?” he mumbled to himself as he watched the others happily embracing and chattering with long lost friends and relatives.  In truth, his singular purpose had been to come in hopes of Elrond... but then that, he reminded himself, was simply hopeful folly.  His eyes fell once more upon Celebrian and Elrond, their heads bowed, foreheads pressed together, hands held, as they shared secret words with one another.

“Your heart is grieving,” remarked a familiar voice to the side of Glorfindel.  “I thought tigers were solitary creatures.”

“Yes, well, once in a while...”  Glorfindel turned his head to see Eonwe standing beside him.  “Greetings.”

“Likewise.  You did extraordinarily well in completing your mission.”

Glorfindel frowned and grunted disdainfully.  “Except with Angmar.”

“Now, now, I told you what to say when that came up.  That was not your foe to fight.”  Eonwe placed his hand upon his pupil’s shoulder.  “Are you bored with the mundane yet?  Ready for a real challenge?”

The tiger’s ears twitched in anticipation.  “A real challenge?  What sort of task do you speak of?”

Eonwe motioned for them to move down a path that was flanked by trees and wide spaces.  Glorfindel followed, and when they were some distance from the beach, Eonwe said, “It would seem my treacherous uncle has managed to break his bonds.  We are not about to allow him entrance again into our haven here, and he would much rather cause harm elsewhere.  We cannot let anyone here know; the panic would be great.  He must be dealt with swiftly.”

“I see.”

“Of course, this time, they are sending out only the best of us to fight him – myself, of course, Orome, Tulkas, and Namo, to name a few.  No one who will only attempt to reason with him – Nienna was practically useless last time,” recalled Eonwe bitterly.

“Are you asking me to join you?”

Eonwe smiled.  “I trained you, remember?”

“How can I forget?” mused Glorfindel.

“Well, as the saying goes, a tiger never changes his stripes, now does he?”  Eonwe stopped.  “It would be foolish not to have the second best warrior accompany us on this mission.”

“Normally, I would be insulted by the position of ‘second best’, but among present company, I am honored.”  Glorfindel allowed for one of his rare smiles.  “When do we go to face this enemy?”

“As soon as you are ready, tiger,” answered Eonwe.

Glorfindel reached for his bow, but Eonwe stopped him.  “Blades only – just like with the balrog.”

All but his sword was discarded, left with his sack of belongings beside a tree.   They continued down the path, and Glorfindel, beginning to feel sentimental, asked, “What of my kin?  My grandfather and uncles?  Are they well?”

“You would need to ask Namo,” replied Eonwe solemnly.  “He was fearful to release them; the hold strongly to their oath.”  Glorfindel nodded with a sigh, but what Eonwe said next gave him hope.  “Let us hope we do indeed defeat Melkor this time, for within his grasp he has the other two silmarils.”

“He does?  How?”

“Demons of fire and water discovered them in the depths, and brought them to him.  That was how he managed his escape – the power of those gems is great indeed. 

“Then my purpose is twofold,” said Glorfindel, more to himself than to Eonwe.  “Aid to you, and vengeance for my family.”

“Your father will be proud.”

“When we defeat Morgoth,” said Glorfindel with conviction, “then my father can return.  He will no longer need to wander the shores of Middle-earth alone.”

“And you will stand upon these shores to greet him.”  Eonwe gave Glorfindel a moment to compose himself after this thought, this hope of a reunion in which he could take part.  “Ready, tiger?”

“Ready.”