“I ran away.” The face of the confessor showed relief at this admission, though the fear in his eyes did not diminish.

“You did what just about anyone would do, given your situation.”

Legolas frowned deeply, obviously remorseful for his action. “I was sent to protect the ring-bearer.”

“Frodo looks fine to me. Missing a finger, sure, but I knew an elf who was missing a hand and got along just fine without it.”

“That is not funny,” Legolas practically scolded before biting his lip.

“It was not meant to be. Maedhros really did adjust well; better than I would have.”

“Maedhros did not run away from a balrog.”

“You think that, do you?” Glorfindel leaned back in his chair so that he could put his feet up. The reception in Gondor had ended long ago, but many of the Elves had yet to leave the hall, save for Aragorn’s bride, her father, and her brothers. The rest stayed— relaxing, chatting, and in the cases of some of the Sindarin Elves, making sure there was no need to take any of the wine bottles back to the cellar the next morning. Legolas had sought out a fellow warrior, and found a friend in Glorfindel. “Maedhros had a good number of flaws; running from a balrog was one of them.”

“How do you know that?” questioned Legolas.

“I was at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; I saw some things others did not. I saw things you never read about in books. They say the Feanorians were held back by traitorous men.”

“But they were,” Legolas argued.

“Some of them were; some of them could have fought their way forward. Not everything was planned all that well for that battle. However, Maedhros did indeed have a chance to come further into the fray. He had a choice – stay where he was, or move with a small group through a break in the fighting.”

“He chose the former,” guessed Legolas.

“Indeed he did. And King Fingon was cut down by two balrogs. He might have had a better chance with Maedhros fighting with him.”

“So, Maedhros was a coward like me,” said Legolas as he bowed his head.

“No. Not really. Any number of things could have happened. He chose a strategy that allowed him to help reinforce the soldiers of his brothers’ armies. Any number of obstacles could have come in his way before he reached Fingon,” reasoned Glorfindel. “Besides, he, like, you, followed orders. Fingon ordered him to hold the position; he did. Gandalf ordered you to run away; you did.”

Legolas still did not look convinced. “What would you have done if you were there?”

“If I was there? Hmm...” Glorfindel pondered this. “If I was there, the command would have been the same, but it would not have been Gandalf who would have issued it.”

“Even knowing how dangerous balrogs are, you would have fought it?” questioned Legolas.

“Yes.”

Legolas looked more confused. “Do you not fear them?”

“It is not that I do not fear them,” said Glorfindel carefully. “It is that I do not fear them anymore. I feared them, because they are death bringers. But now, I no longer fear them, for I no longer fear death.”

“And that is why the Nazgul flee from you as well,” Legolas mused. “They are death, and since you do not fear them—“

“Nay, nay, Legolas,” corrected Glorfindel. “It is not because they are death, but because I am death. I am the danger to them, not the other way around. No, I do not fear them, but they fear me.”

Legolas was quiet and thoughtful for some time before he spoke again. “I am in awe of you,” he admitted.

Glorfindel smiled ruefully and leaned forward so that he could speak very quietly to his friend. “Be in awe, but do not be wistful – for had I the chance to relive my former life, I wish I could try to run away from that beast. I would rather that I still feared death, than have missed the years of living that I did.”