“You are still awake.” Glorfindel quietly shut the door as he entered the apartment. “I thought you would be in bed.”
Erestor shook his head and set aside the book he had been reading. The room was dim and the ladies had gone to bed for the night, leaving Erestor by himself. There was an unfamiliar tray on the table containing a mug of dark beer and a covered plate. “I ordered something up. I know how expensive that tends to be, but I decided that I could afford it, all things considered.”
“I will leave you in peace, then,” offered Glorfindel, but Erestor motioned him over to the empty spot beside him. “What is under the cover?” he asked of the curious little plate on the tray.
“Go ahead. I had them bring that up for you.”
Glorfindel picked up the plate and peeked under the lid. He smiled and removed it completely. “With strawberries and cream.”
“I believe that is how you like it.”
“Oh, yes.” Glorfindel picked up the carefully polished spoon that was on the tray and curled his legs up onto the couch. “Thank you.”
“I thought you might like that. I have a feeling it could be a while before you find any cheesecake. Or before I find any beer, for that matter.” Erestor retrieved the mug and drank from it sparingly. “You should probably make a decision about what you are going to do with your hair.”
“Oh, right.” Glorfindel had not devised a course of action yet in regards to his hair. The idea that Erestor had had in braiding it Glorfindel found uncomfortable for sleeping, and his hair was most uncooperative when he unbraided it. He was well aware of time running out. “I guess I had better think of something.”
---
By morning, Glorfindel still had no plan. He was certain something would come to him while he washed in the tub, for it was during his baths that his best ideas came to him. Unfortunately, when a maid came up to get the tray from the previous night, she informed them that there was a long delay for water. Instead of waiting and taking the chance of not being able to take a shower before they left, Erestor and Glorfindel gathered their gear and waited for Rog and Meleth to arrive, which did not take long.
“We decided to head to the stables early, since Glorfindel has that watershower in his little apartment,” explained Erestor as he shoved an extra pair of pants into his sack upon the insistence of Aranel.
Glorfindel was busy pulling things out of his bag. “Tauniel, I appreciate the gesture, but what am I going to need fishing line for?”
“You never know.” As soon as Glorfindel was yanking things out of the bag, she was shoving them back in. “What if you run out of food and find a river and the only way to survive is to fish?”
“Fine; leave it in.” Glorfindel did remove the sewing kit, the extra hand towel, and the dice game. “Darling, I doubt I am going to have time for relaxation,” he said as she pouted when he handed the game to her.
“You never know. What if you win? You might be there a while. It is small, lightweight—“
Meleth placed her hands upon Tauniel’s shoulders. “If they do stay a while, they will drink and sing and likely not play dice.” Tauniel nodded and took the dice back to the shelf they normally sat upon.
“If you are going to have time to shower, we should leave now.” Rog had his pack on his shoulder and his weapons with him as well. The large, spiked mace hung down off his thigh, polished just that morning. “Meleth?”
Meleth stepped past the others and sidled up next to her husband. Rog dropped his pack down onto the floor and took his wife into his arms. At less than half his size but not much shorter, Meleth was dwarfed by her husband. However, despite the warrior’s impressive size, he was ever so gentle as he kissed his wife and whispered his goodbyes to her. She clung to him and nuzzled his neck until he pulled back and kissed the top of her head. Meleth smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder before she stepped away.
There was an uncomfortable pause as the other two couples glanced about at one another, but Meleth finally broke the silence. “I bet they want to have a private moment,” she said as she opened the door to the hallway and beckoned Rog to follow her.
Rog nodded, but gave both of the other ellyn a warning look. “One minute and then we have to go.”
The door was closed, and for a moment, no one said anything. “I guess... I hope we see each other again,” said Erestor, though it was a blanket statement not made to any one of them in particular.
Aranel took hold of Erestor’s hand. “I hope you both return safely.”
“We will miss you,” added Tauniel.
Erestor nodded and took hold of Aranel’s hand, which he kissed the back of. “We will miss both of you as well.”
“Oh, you can do better than that,” prodded Aranel. She was promptly yanked into Erestor’s arms, who threaded one hand into her hair and wrapped his other arm around her back before kissing her soundly.
Glorfindel shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. “Uhmm...”
“Do I at least get a hug? I am your wife, you know.” Tauniel gave Glorfindel’s sleeve a playful tug.
With a soft smile, Glorfindel removed his hands from his pockets and somewhat hesitantly took Tauniel into his arms. “I am going to miss you.”
“Not as much as I am going to miss you. You poor thing, being made to go marching for miles with the sexiest soldiers in all of Gondolin. I am sure it is going to be a horrible, horrible experience,” she said as she stroked her hand through his hair.
“Terrible. Absolutely terrible,” agreed Glorfindel. They hugged again, and kissed each other lightly on the lips. “Take care of yourself.”
Tauniel nodded, and then they all swapped so that Erestor could say his farewells to Tauniel, giving Glorfindel a chance to say goodbye to Aranel. A knock on the door hurried them, and Meleth entered as Erestor and Glorfindel gathered their gear and took it with them into the hallway.
“Rog, you bring those boys back safe,” called out Meleth as the three officers began to walk to the stairway. She stood between Tauniel and Aranel, an arm around each of them.
“Yes, dear,” replied Rog as he ushered his unofficially appointed charges out of the tower.
The walk from the tower to the Golden Flower fields was fairly uneventful. Glorfindel’s stables had been decided upon as the meeting place for the captains since all of them would be mounted and it was the single largest pasture in Gondolin. The majority of the army would assemble midday at the gate to leave, but the area surrounding the stables was bustling with activity.
Although Salgant was not among those who would be leaving, he was there, in part to see off Duilin, and in part to oversee a generous effort on his part to feed the entire army before they left. There were six stations set up around the city, the largest of which was in the pasture. Three dozen elves quickly cooked and served breakfast for the hungry soldiers, who stood around or sat on benches, some with other soldiers and some with their families.
Among them, Glorfindel saw Mirdirin. He was called over and excused himself from Rog and Erestor, telling Erestor to utilize the shower first and that he would do so soon himself. “Green and gold still look good on you, Mirdirin,” complemented Glorfindel as he clasped the arm of his herald.
“They feel good, too,” Mirdirin admitted as he motioned for one of the idle soldiers to retrieve breakfast for their captain. “I hope no one is upset over the fact I have such a low rank.”
“You had a low rank yesterday, commander. Let them try to say something now.”
For a moment, Mirdirin’s mouth hung open. “Captain... I...”
“If I fall, I need there to be no doubt that you are in charge.” Glorfindel thanked the soldier who handed him a plate containing a slice of ham and a fried egg between two thick buttered pieces of toast. “I need a shower, and I need to meet with Turgon and the other lords when the king arrives. The roster is on my desk and the roll of the horses we are taking is beneath it.”
“I shall have everything put in order,” promised Mirdirin.
Glorfindel nodded as he bit into his breakfast. “Damn, this is good,” he said between bites.
“Galdereth came up with it. Speaking of him,” added Mirdirin, “you are not the only one who came to the conclusion that he has excellent culinary skills. Galdor was talking to him earlier about hiring him as his chief chef.”
“Much as I would hate to lose him from the army, I have to admit, he does cook well.” Glorfindel and Mirdirin parted in opposite directions, Mirdirin to retrieve the lists, and Glorfindel to bathe before Turgon’s arrival.
He left his half-eaten breakfast on the table as he entered and dumped his pack onto the couch. In the back of his mind, he still had plans to empty it and reorganize everything so that he could remove the rest of the items Tauniel had helpfully added. As soon as Erestor emerged from the washroom, Glorfindel entered and stripped out of his civilian clothing. He tossed it aside in the corner, certain he would not be wearing such things for a while.
As he washed, he checked and rechecked over things in his mind. He also took much longer than he usually would to shower and wash his hair. Yet again, it was something he was sure he would not have the opportunity for anytime soon.
As he rinsed off, he could hear whispered discussion in the main room of the underground apartment. He hurried to finish and dry off most of the water, worried that he had delayed too long and that the king had already arrived. When he emerged, he was surprised not only to see that Turgon was not there, but that a number of people were. “Alright, you can all use my shower, but one at a time,” he joked as he tucked the towel tighter around his waist.
“Glorfindel, we have been discussing it, and we cannot allow you to bring such a hazard onto the battlefield.” Rog was at the front of the pack that blocked the only exit. Behind him stood most of the other lords of Gondolin, and a few other elves of importance. To one side, Erestor worriedly stood, but said nothing. Ecthelion blocked the path between Erestor and Glorfindel, who was calmly considering stalling techniques.
“Alright, I thought having a pack of trained monkeys would boost morale, but I suppose I can leave them here,” said Glorfindel. He stayed close to the door that led into the washroom. The door had a lock on it, and if needed, he could dash in and buy a little time. Faced with a dozen imposing soldiers, one of whom held a very sharp looking pair of scissors, Glorfindel was not entirely certain one lock on a wooden door was going to stop any of them.
Ecthelion took a step forward, but as he was still across the room, Glorfindel held his ground. “Fin,” he said in a low, soothing voice, “we are not trying to hurt you. We are trying to help you.”
Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest. “You are probably just jealous because I am blond.”
“This is ridiculous,” pointed out Rog. “We are leaving in a matter of hours, and you have hair longer than most of the young maidens do. If you were a young maiden, this would not be an issue, but you are a soldier. Now act like a soldier, sit down in that chair, and let us be done with this game.”
If another few seconds had passed, Glorfindel might have escaped back into the washroom. Luckily, his pride was salvaged by the sound of loud pounding on the entrance. A moment later, the door was pulled open. Turgon stood behind it, shaking his head.
“What is going on in here?” demanded Turgon. He pushed his way past Duilin and Galdor, though the rest parted for him. “Is there some reason why there are no captains out on the field?”
“Sorry, sir, we were having a little debate,” apologized Egalmoth.
“More like an intervention,” whispered Duilin to Salgant.
Glorfindel stepped forward, towel still slung around his waist and another in one hand. “It has been brought to my attention that my hair might be a hazard in battle.”
Turgon turned and saw the pair of shears that Rog was holding. “What were you going to do, force him to cut it? One of you playing barber, and the rest holding him down? What sort of idiots are you?” demanded the king. There was a bit of mumbling and some meek apologies. “Maybe it did not occur to any of you, but he is a Vanya, and I have yet to meet a Vanya who is not a narcissist. As a matter of fact, you should count yourselves lucky that a Vanya is even coming along to aid us! This is not his war; we are not his people. If I was him, right now, I would laugh at the lot of you and stay home. But, it seems he has just a little more loyalty to all of you than you have to him. So, leave him alone and finish getting prepared to leave!”
The room cleared out very quickly, with nearly a stampede to reach the door. Erestor moved next to Glorfindel as soon as Ecthelion left and shook his head. “Rog acted as if he was the only one coming in, and next I knew, the whole crowd was here.”
“I know. There was not much you could have done.”
“I tried to talk them out of it,” explained Erestor in a low voice.
“Mob mentality,” mumbled Glorfindel. “Good luck trying to talk them out of anything.”
When the only ones left were Glorfindel, Erestor, and Turgon, the king admitted, “Although I will agree it is not the most ideal situation, there is no law that says you are not allowed to shoot orcs if your hair falls past your ass.”
Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged looks, not used to the king speaking so candidly. “Thank you, sir,” said Glorfindel, but Turgon was not finished.
“What I am concerned about is your sight. How are your archery skills without your glasses?”
The pair of spectacles, with their metal frames and curved lenses were sitting on a low table to the side of the couch. Glorfindel picked them up and fiddled about with the stems that fit over his ears. “I can see well enough to shoot; the trouble is more with reading, actually.”
“Good. I meant to ask you about it earlier but I kept neglecting to. I want you and Ecthelion to take up the flanks; Rog and I will be riding at the front.”
“Yes, sire.” Glorfindel felt his heart sink a little. It meant that he and Erestor would be at opposite ends of the marching army and likely in battle as well. Perhaps, he reflected as Turgon left, that was a good thing.
