“Right now, I hate you. A little bit.” It was the first thing Glorfindel said to Erestor in the three days since they had left Gondolin to patrol the borders. Rugged and rocky terrain had kept them from moving very far or very fast. A decision had been made not to be weighed down with too many items, meaning supplies were meager and their meals came from what they could scavenge or hunt.
Erestor knew enough to hold his tongue as Glorfindel began to lecture him. “For years and years, every time things are getting better, you suddenly get this juvenile urge to be an idiot! You hardly ever know when to shut up! Half the time, it is your temper that gets you in trouble – did no one ever explain to you that kings hate it when you get sarcastic with them? Now, here we are, the two of us again, when my crime was the lesser.”
“Pardon, but when you were sleeping with Gildor, who was it that bore the brunt of that punishment? I recall no scars upon your back from that transgression.”
Glorfindel closed his mouth, anger now replaced with hurt. “Sorry,” he finally managed.
“As am I,” whispered Erestor sincerely. “I had no intention of dragging you into this. I am perfectly content to accept my penance alone.”
Glorfindel rolled his eyes. Sometimes, ‘Erestor the Martyr’ annoyed him. “I would not be so upset if not for the fact of leaving my son in the care of his uncaring mother. The only thing that keeps me from insanity right now is that I know Meleth and Aranel will be there for him.”
“Again, I am sorry. I did not expect this, and I did not expect Turgon to find out about the birds. Really, this is all Ecthelion’s fault – who hunts thrushes? Ridiculous,” muttered Erestor.
“Too bad you did not have other birds,” said Glorfindel. “We could have them fly above the city and let us know if there is anything amiss, rather than spend all these months wandering about in circles.”
“Even if I did, a thrush would need to rest often to go such a long distance.” Erestor suddenly looked very intently at the campfire they had started just before nightfall. “A larger bird could go a greater distance.”
“Too bad you did not have any geese, then,” corrected Glorfindel.
“No... geese are too flighty... we need something bigger and smarter.” Erestor adjusted his position so that he was sitting up straight and folded his hands before him.
Glorfindel cocked his head slightly. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh.”
“Can I help?”
“No, hush.”
Glorfindel sighed and poked a stick into the fire. A few embers flew up towards the cloudy darkness. For what seemed like an hour, Glorfindel busied himself with the fire and hunting about between the rocks for wild strawberries, while Erestor sat silently in a meditative state. Finally, stress of the situation and fatigue (for his injuries still plagued him) caused Glorfindel to bed down for the night. He nestled down onto his bedroll, considered wishing Erestor a good night, then snuggled down into as comfortable a position as he could find in the barren lands they were in.
The warrior found himself awakened not by the morning sun, but by an unexpected evening breeze. Glorfindel yawned as he turned over, hoping to snag Erestor’s unused bedroll for extra cover. Instead, he opened his bleary eyes and saw before him one of Manwe’s most devoted followers. “Glorfindel, I would like to introduce to you one of the noblest of Arda’s kings, His Majesty Thorondor.”
“Simply Thorondor shall do,” spoke the Eagle.
Glorfindel realized his mouth was hanging open and mindfully closed it. He bowed his head from where he sat. “Your Highness.”
“Manwe heard my pleas,” explained Erestor. “Just as I was sent here to watch over the few Telerin Elves who sailed here, so, too, was Thorondor sent as a guide for the Noldor.” Erestor smiled fondly. “Sorontar and I have been friends for many long years.”
“In Valinor, Eresse once freed me from a hunter’s boar trap in the woods,” said Thorondor. “I was a stubborn Eaglet at the time. For weeks he nursed me to health. During that time, he taught me the language of your people, and I shared with him the languages of the birds. Those were happy days. I am glad for the opportunity to repay my debt to him.”
“Thorondor has agreed to aid us by carrying us thrice about the city. It may take a few days, but it will be much faster than walking,” explained Erestor. “We will begin at daybreak.”
“Both of us at the same time?” asked Glorfindel. The Eagle was massive, and he meant no disrespect, but he also did not wish to be a burden. The fact that the Eagle spoke clearly was making him wonder if he was still asleep or hallucinating.
Thorondor stepped back, his great clawed feet finding easy purchase upon the rocky terrain. His head tilted, one shiny eye upon Erestor, then he flicked his head to the side, and turned it to look upon Glorfindel. “The last time I carried two, they were similar in height and weight to the two of you. This time it will not be a matter of such great importance to speed faster than the wind. No injuries. No Melkor. No worries.” The Eagle stretched his wings out, the span greater than if the elves had stood with fingertips touching and attempted to match the width.
“In the morning we shall go. We will rest now,” directed Thorondor. He tucked his wings back and stepped closer to where Glorfindel was so that when he settled down the downy feathers of his underbelly brushed up against the blond warrior. Glorfindel made a hurried attempt to move away, but a giant wing tucked him closer. “The air is colder as the night grows longer. Even elves are not immune to it.” A few moments later, Erestor was snuggling up against Thorondor as well, and Glorfindel, too tired to question any of it, fell asleep quickly.
“Do you want to ride in the front or in the back?” Erestor had bundled up their gear and tucked it safely into an alcove. They kept their weapons and cloaks, with Erestor’s assurance to Glorfindel that simply staying close to Thorondor at night would keep them warm.
“Which would you prefer?” asked Glorfindel carefully. It was true that he was not fond of harnesses and saddles on horses, but a fall from a horse was less likely fatal than a fall from an eagle. He tried to discretely look for stirrups or reins, knowing they would be lacking from this creature despite his hopes.
“It does not matter to me. I have taken many rides on these majestic creatures,” admitted Erestor. “In my youth, Feanor and Mahtan and I used to race upon them,” he fondly recalled.
Glorfindel’s expression looked similar to that of a concerned parent. “That sounds very dangerous.”
Thorondor let out a series of squawks that sounded like laughter. For his part, Erestor shrugged. “It was fun,” was his defense.
“You knew how to ride an Eagle, but not how to ride a horse?” questioned Glorfindel as he remembered how their friendship had begun.
“Not to dismiss the importance of or the intelligence of the Equine,” spoke Thorondor with a ruffle of his feathers, “but Eagles are not simple mounts. We are far above the Equine and Canine, just as you are. If we might be so inclined, we might master those beasts as you do. We, however, have no masters, save for those of our own kind, and Manwe, Eru.” The Eagle said these words proudly, yet without any hint of arrogance. “Any air racing done was a mutual decision between both parties involved.” And then, the Eagle seemed to smile, perhaps not with his beak, but with his eyes. The same mischievous look glinted in Erestor’s eyes.
Glorfindel shook his head slightly, feeling like he was momentarily looking at a pair of adolescents. Had Erestor’s father at times been in this position, arms crossed, shaking his head at this pair? By the grin that slowly crept across Erestor’s face, Glorfindel decided the answer was probably yes. “I assume when you were racing, the two of you were usually racing together.”
“Of course!” Erestor practically shouted in excitement. He could practically stand still or keep his fingers from fidgeting, so anxious was he to be up in the air once again.
“I am the fastest, and he was the lightest,” said Thorondor logically. “How else would I always win?”
“I see.” Glorfindel drew his cloak closer around himself. “How fast are we going to be going?”
“We will use the currents and soar upon them. The takeoff will be a little different, since you have never experienced such a thing before. I would suggest that Eresse ride in the front; then you will be able to hold onto him. Whoever rides in the front will need to be careful what they grab; a wrong move could tear a feather from me, and cause me to react unfavorably.”
“Shall we?” asked Erestor.
Glorfindel looked upwards, where he could see specks in the sky darting around the clouds. He swallowed hard and began to reconsider the idea.
“You can see Indelion again within a week,” promised Erestor. Glorfindel looked back and saw Erestor’s hand outstretched to him. He tentatively reached forward, and was led the few feet to where Thorondor patiently waited for them. “Just a moment, and I will pull you up,” said Erestor. He took off his cloak and tossed it up onto the Eagle, just behind the bird’s shoulders.
Erestor then backed up a little ways, rubbed his hands together, then ran full force towards Thorondor. Glorfindel stumbled back a step, not wishing to be in the way as Erestor flipped forwards, landed on his hands momentarily, and pushed himself up from the ground to flip up onto Thorondor’s back.
“What was that?” shouted Glorfindel up to the other elf. “Do I have to do that?” he asked in Thorondor’s direction, slightly panicked.
“That is called showing off,” said Thorondor. “No, you should not do that. Eresse, please assist your friend.”
With a smirk, Erestor leaned down over the Eagle, his legs firmly gripping over either side. “Take my hand,” he said as it was offered to Glorfindel. Glorfindel timidly did so. “Ready? On three, just jump.” Erestor counted off, and at the appointed moment Glorfindel did as told while Erestor provided enough extra strength to pull Glorfindel up onto Thorondor. “Make sure you stay close,” he warned. “I may not be able to turn around fast enough to catch you if you slip too far away.”
“Uh... maybe we should just continue walking,” said Glorfindel, but his words were lost as Thorondor shouted, “Hold on, now!” and started first to walk and then to take leaps forward as his wings, first slow and then faster, beat at his sides.
“Bring up your legs,” barked Erestor as he looked over his shoulder. His legs had clearance to drape around Thorondor at either side, but Glorfindel was further back and stood a chance of being in the way of the Eagle’s wings if he moved the wrong way. “Bend your knees! Keep your feet pointed back! Hold on, hands around my waist!”
Glorfindel managed to position his legs correctly, but a sudden jerk as they lurched up into the air caught him off guard. He felt weightless and small, and his arms grabbed around anything to anchor him.
“That works, too,” chuckled Erestor as Glorfindel’s arms wrapped firmly around his chest. He could feel Glorfindel’s body trembling as it pressed against him, cheek squished between his shoulder blades. “Are you alright?” he asked once Thorondor reached a height upon which he could travel upon the wind.
Glorfindel hung on tighter. “Are we really high up?” he meekly asked.
“Open your eyes,” coaxed Erestor. He kept one hand on Thorondor to steady himself, and used the other to rub Glorfindel’s arm in hopes of calming him down. “Few have such a view of Gondolin.”
Very slowly, Glorfindel peeked. First, he saw the wisps of clouds and the great brown feathered wings that tilted and pushed against the wind. Then he leaned just enough to see below. Gondolin appeared to be no larger than a small melon, with the great tower at the center the size of a dandelion stalk. “Nice,” he managed quietly, pressing as close as he could to Erestor. “Just do not let me fall,” he said nervously as he looked around the city at the jagged rocks and cliffs that surrounded it.
“I promise not to,” said Erestor in reply, though he felt instantly uneasy at his own words. He reached his free hand around and placed it protectively upon Glorfindel’s arm, not letting go until after they had safely landed in one of the enormous Eagle nests for the night.
