Title: Glorfindel of Imladris
Author: Gasdil
Author´s Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All Tolkien´s, all the time.
Pairing: Elrond/Glorfindel
Rating: PG- 13
Summary: “Child, you didn´t ask for a lover when the Valar restored me, but for
a warrior.”
Author´s Notes: This was written for the Secret Santa Challenge, though it
turned out differently than expected. Lyric wanted elfslash, angsting and a
sappy end: This tale was all I could come up with. Sorry! And one word to the
Tolkien Purists: this is not the good Professor´s view on things, thus the term
*fan*fiction. I took liberties from canon in describing Celebrian´s fate and the
Nazgul Fight. To Les and Eva, like always.
Beta: Khylea-thank you!

1.The Calling

Suddenly and unexpectedly pain came over him. Air breached his lungs. And light
with all its brutal clarity burned his eyes and there were noises, millions of
them, that broke his quiet solitude. He felt heat scrape along bones and
coldness revived flesh that had long been ashes.
Glorfindel of Gondolin, who had long been gone from this world, was formed
again. Was formed from aches long forgotten, from tears that had been the
foundation of many a song. Blood flew and fragile limbs radiated warmth again.
But this had not been his choice.

The knowledge and experience of a seasoned warrior would be needed in a future
not so far away, when an elf with a fea so pure and swordarm so fierce would
drive back a Nazgul to protect the Ringbearer on his way to Imladris. This
prophecy had led Elrond, Lord of Imladris, into the Woods of Lóthlorien, where
Irmo himself was once seen walking in the dawn of all ages. The woods, so the
myth stated, still enabled those seeking thruth to contact the Valar in their
dreams. And Elrond had pleaded on Arda´s behalf with Irmo. With Isildur´s
failure accepted, he had foreseen hope and doom, closely linked. He hoped to
find answers in the Woods of Lóthlorien. He had asked for revelation of the one
warrior who would fullfill the crucial part of the prophecy. And the Valar in
their unfailing wisdom had not given the Peredhel the identity of said saviour
but the elf himself; a legend restored for one purpose.

Glorfindel desperately clung to Mandos’ Halls, but his soul was already embedded
in a body. There was no way back. The mercy of the Valar granted him one last
foray into the darkness and so he lost his consciousness when the impressions of
the world he had willingly left were once again filling his senses. But before
calmness lulled him, an etheral voice reminded him that in years long passed, a
warrior had sacrificed his life in defense of his people.
Fire had consumed the fea known as Glorfindel of Gondolin, and thrown him down
Cirith Thoronath. That name stirred his memories, but he couldn´t grasp the
fleeting images of a mountainside, a hidden city and a lake so crystal blue that
it rivaled the skies. It hurt to remember.
Something pierced his ears. Sharp, unrelenting.

/”Wake up!”/

/”Let him rest, Elrond.”/

/”Nay, I want… “/

The noise faded in the background when he felt himself cradled in strong arms
and soft material touched his cold skin. Someone was stroking his face and he
gave into the need to sleep. He was safe for the moment.

Glorfindel wasn´t sure when precisely he woke from his reverie. Colours and
shadows had slowly embarked into his calm white dreamscape, forcing him back
towards awareness. With sleep retreating the memories came alive. He could
recall vividly the fall of his beloved city, the fall of Gondolin. His kin had
fought so hard, but their efforts hadn´t paid off and his home had burned.
Burned to ashes just like him.
In their panic and confusion the remaining elves had followed Tuor up the
mountain, through the secret passage. Only it hadn´t been so secret for
Morgoth´s creatures already awaited them. A Balrog had blocked Cirith Thoronath
and therefore stopped their flight. Glorfindel had fought the fire demon at the
top of the mountain. Defeating it condemned him to death, but he he chose this
fate realizing that if he failed those following him would die as well. He
remembered the smell of sulfour, the burning heat licking along his skin and his
determination to keep safe what was left of his homeland, the refugees of
Gondolin.
His vision cleared. The light still hurt, but less than before. Less than the
past.
There was mud beneath his shoulderblades and he felt soaked to the skin. There
was something warm blanketing his body, a cloak maybe, but his eyes could only
make out a greenish shape where his body should be. If Glorfindel was guessing
correctly he was lying flat on the ground, his head pillowed on somebody´s lap.
No smell of fire on him and no sounds of flight in the air. Birds were singing
and leaves were whispering a welcome to him.
They spoke of `Lorien, though Glorfindel didn´t understand why he should lie in
woods so far away from his place of battle. Maybe the eagles had brought him
here. Maybe Mandos` Halls had been a dream.”I think his eyes are moving.

/”Is he awake?”/

/”I´m not sure.”/

Voices. He was not feeling the calming touch of another mind, but the silvery
sound of an elven voice. There was no necessity for sound in Mandos` Halls and
hearing felt odd.
He forced himself to remain motionless to deceive the elves guarding him. Foes,
friends the Valar only knew whom he had to face now that he was here. Wherever
in Lórien that might be.
With all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself swiftly to his feet,
surprising those watching over him. A snarl of dismay errupted from Glorfindel´s
lips when he found himself naked and without weapons, but the two elves across
from him were armed. And obviously they were too busy staring agape at him to
defend themselves properly. Wiping his blond hair from his face he took an
agressive stance.
His muscles protested their use, but instincts honed in another life took over
and harshly demanded control of his body. A few glances told him that neither of
the two dark haired elves were responding to his silent challenge and so he
simply launched at the one closest.
He caught the dark haired elf off guard, but judging from the ease with which
his opponent blocked his punches he was no stranger to combat. Glorfindel was
amazed that the other only reacted to his attacks. Yet he wasn´t in the mood to
contemplate something else, but how he got his hands on a sword. Soon he had the
elf unarmed and pressed the swordblade to the stranger´s throat.
The other elf looked calmly at the scene before him, and Glorfindel could see
him calculate:
/”My Lord Elrond?”/ he inquired.

/”I´m fine Erestor.”/ the warrior reassured his companion and grasping his hand
over Glorfindel´s on the sword he said. /”Drop my sword. I mean you no harm.”/

“Drop his sword, Glorfindel.” an authoritive voice echoed this sentence behind
him.
He knew that voice. It reverbareted through his every soul.

“Galadriel! Utúlien o´Mandos sinome maruvan. Si Morgoth-alantiero?” he exclaimed
staring in awe at the Lady of `Lórien.

And Galadriel´s voice resounded in his head: “Rest my friend, for that old enemy
has been defeated long ago.”

The sword fell with a soft clatter to the ground and Glorfindel sagged against
the elf he had just threatened. His muscles finally protested and he would have
collapsed if it hadn´t been for the elf called Elrond.

/”Get him to my talan.”/ Galadriel instructed the two elves.

/”How did you know we would need your assistance my Lady?”/ Erestor asked, while
Elrond lifted Glorfindel into his arms, covering him with his cloak.
Glorfindel hated being dependent, but his legs would not carry his weight any
longer.

/”Your Lord isn´t the only one foreseeing events, Master Erestor. Besides the
two of you were observed by my Galadhrim.”/ She added with a smile: /”They do
not like uninvited guests on their territory. As you do know…”/

Elrond raised an eyebrow at his friend and advisor, unconsciously shifting the
squirming blonde in his arms: /”How come?”/

The advisor blushed and averted his eyes: /”Haldir and I had once a disagreement
over a lover my Lord.”/

Glorfindel tried to follow their conversation but was confused, because while he
understood parts of it, most words sounded almost mutilated to his ears. His
restless squirming finally alerted Elrond to the fact that the elf in his arms
seemed more than a little disturbed.

/”Galadriel?”/Elrond asked. /”Take him to my talan.”/

2. Fast Forward To The Middle of Nowhere

Glorfindel was indignant at being carried like an invalid. And communication was
impossible because the dark haired elf didn´t seem to understand anything he was
saying. Even glaring the dense elf into compliance had not worked.
On the other hand his pride didn´t suffer much, for they soon reached their
destination and he was relieved to see that at least the architcture in `Lorien
was the same since he had been here last. The language problem was odd, but
maybe the two elves who found him had been from an secluded elven colony and he
just didn´t know their dialect.
When the stairs up the tree were climbed he was carefully put on his own two
feet and gently shoved into a talan. Celeborn was sitting in the spacious room,
obviously waiting for him.

“Mae govannen, Cele-” before he could finish his sentence he was buried in a
crushing hug. He laughed in joy, but the earnest expression on his old friend´s
face sobered him quickly.
He feared what the Lord of`Lorien might tell him. Perhaps Galadriel´s
reassurance that Morgoth was gone had not been true. As his old friend clothed
him in the attire of a Galadhrim, he relayed what had happened since Glorfindel
had last walked upon Arda. And what he learnt almost made him faint. He had been
dead for over thousand years. He missed Morgoth´s defeat and the fact that his
minion Sauron rose to power. Elves he had known were either dead or did were
either dead or had long since sailed for Valinor. His beloved Gondolin had never
been restored, his House had been extinguished and yet he himself was back on
Arda.
Celeborn talked for hours. In the beginning Glorfindel asked several questions
and then he only listened. Galadriel had at one point joined them and completed
her husband´s tales. But the one question Glorfindel wanted to ask, he had not.
His resurrection and the reasons behind it would have to wait for another day.
Reading between the lines he had understood that his return had not been a mere
miracle or a gift. He was back for a reason.
Night had already settled over Lothlórien when Galadriel and Celeborn left him
to his thoughts. And thus he remained sitting alone in the moonlight, till the
morning broke.

The dark haired Elf he had threatened entered the talan with a soft knock
carrying a tray with fruits. Glorfindel still sat on the wooden floor staring
out into the open. He felt lost, out of place in an Age where his language was
old-fashioned and politics involved him, even before he knew their true extent.
The other slowly approached, sitting down opposite him and therefore blocking
his view. They mirrored each other´s stance, sitting crosslegged on the floor of
the talan. The invitation to eat was delivered with a silent motion and
Glorfindel accepted.
Actually he was not hungry at all, but the other seemed keen on seeing him eat
and so Glorfindel gave in. His reward was a stunning smile and they shared the
breakfast in peace.

/”So.”/ The dark haired elf stated, his tone a little insecure.

Glorfindel suddenly realised that the other may be a warrior, but he was also
very young compared to the elves around him. He had been fooled by ageless eyes
that shone like the stars and Glorfindel saw kindness and wisdom in them far
beyond the elf´s age.
/”So…?”/ he replied grinning, for the other elf intrigued him.

/”You are Glorfindel of Gondolin.”/ Glorfindel nodded hearing his name.

“I am Elrond Peredhel.” The dark haired elf continued and chuckled softly when
he heard the surprised gasp from Glorfindel. “Umin quette mea. But I try anyhow.
I volunteered to teach you common Sindarin.”

And if the Half-Elf was surprised to have his arms suddenly filled with the
blond legend, he didn´t show it. He carefully hugged back and Glorfindel was
happy to hear and feel that there was somebody willing to reach him. He was not
alone in this new world.

Days passed and Glorfindel learnt the new common Sindarin easily. Partly due to
his dedicated teacher and partly to his own determination to free himself of all
dependecies. He hated to feel like a burden, but telling Galadriel of his
concerns had only made her smile sadly: “We burdened you my friend.”
Elrond spent almost another night and day at his side and Glorfindel found out
more about his young companion and the world he seemed to love so much. He was
not the mere warrior Glorfindel had believed him to be, but Earendil´s heir, a
Lord with his own realm. Though young, Elrond had fought, killed and seen
friends die.
At first Glorfindel had been hesitant in befriending him. Many elves seemed
infatuated with the idea that an elf had slain a Balrog, consequently died and
came back through the mercy of the Valar. He found the hero worship more than
annoying. It was rather disturbing that every elf he met knew his name and a
short version of his life.
Elrond was different, he was interested in the elf behind the myth and tried to
help him in every way possible. Glorfindel was astonished when he heard from
Galadriel that Elrond had sent Erestor, his chief advisor, home to rule in his
place when they had started their language lessons. And very cautiously he began
trusting the other.
Days turned into weeks and were wrapped into months and Glorfindel became
stronger.
Celeborn and Galadriel had tried to comfort him, but he had told them that he
lived in agony. He didn´t need anybody to sort things out for him because he
knew the truth.
There was no confusion in his memories, no question unanswered because agony was
living in absolute clarity of the world around him. Or precisely of what was
missing in the world around him. He knew that his home had been so long
destroyed that even the ruins he could mourn over were gone.
He knew his lover was dead. No one had to explain the facts to Glorfindel of
Gondolin because he had been around to witness everything. The memories seemed
imprinted on his eyes like a wound that no elven healing ability could take care
of.
It helped to share his past with Elrond who had made similar experiences even if
his losses hadn´t cut him off from the world around him. Galadriel and Celeborn
had tried to soothe his anger, but Elrond didn´t. He simply listened
compassionately when Glorfindel raved on how the world should have changed after
his sacrifice. That evil should have left Arda and things should be different.
For Glorfindel to accept that the beauty of a sunset had not changed while evil
still resided in a world he once loved had been hard.
But after some time the permanent shock, the hurt wore off. With Elrond´s
insistence on the present the anguish that cut his soul faded. His past was
irrevocably gone and the novelty of missing his lover, his home, his life was
gone as well. He just had the constant ache in his heart, the lacking gap in his
soul to soothe. And for the sake of his lost world he managed to go on, to
breathe and to laugh because there was not enough time to cry. The dead would
have expected nothing less from him.

The day he sparred with Elrond and effortlessly knocked the sword out of the
hand of his opponent was the day he learnt the reasons for his return. When the
sword fell to the ground the watching Galadhrim cheered and Glorfindel bowed to
their amusement and said: “And this happens when you underestimate old elves.”
He motioned for the audience to leave.

Elrond looked stricken and Glorfindel hurried back to him. “Did I hurt you?” he
asked worriedly.

“Nay.” The Half-Elf picked up his sword and cleaned it on his tunic.
It was a fine blade made of mithril with a delicate design of Tengwar letters.
Elrond had received it from Celeborn a few weeks ago for reasons unknown to him.

“Do you know what I had Celeborn carve into the sword?” Elrond asked and offered
the blade to Glorfindel.

“Destined to fight another day.” Glorfindel read aloud. “What does it mean?”

“Before I found you I had a vision of a warrior. An elf that would drive back a
Nazgul to protect the one person who would be able to destroy the Ring of Power.
I came to Lórien to ask Irmo if my prophecy was true and ifso how I could find
the warrior.”

Glorfindel paled and the sword fell to the ground: “No.”

“I didn´t get a name that day, but I stumbled across a naked elf in the woods. I
found you, the warrior I had been looking for.” Elrond picked the sword up
again. “Take your sword.”

“You can´t be serious.” Glorfindel replied horrified and ran. Somewhere in the
forests he stopped, dropped to his knees and cried.
He begged the Valar to have mercy and let him return to Mandos’ Halls, but did
not receive another answer but the trees comforting whisper. A young Galadhrim
approached him hours later and took him back to his talan. His new sword was
lying on his bed and clutching the blade to his chest he fell into an exhausted
sleep.
That night he dreamed of Gondolin, but instead of Ecthelion he saw Elrond die
and not only his city burned to ashe but all of Arda burned. And his second
death was not saving anyone.
He woke screaming and spent the day and the next week in seclusion. He was not
willing to face those he could only disappoint. The nights he spent in restless
slumber or staring at the sword.

Until he woke to a soft shaking. “Move over.” He heard Elrond whisper behind
him. “You most probably woke the guards at the westfront with your last
nightmare and as I´m responsible for it, I will help you through the night.”

Dumbfounded Glorfindel felt Elrond slip into his bed. “Why do you believe that?”

“Let´s see, you haven´t had a good sleep since I told you of my vision and your
following return to Arda. I wonder how I could come up with the idea that you´re
having nightmares because of that…”Elrond spooned behind Glorfindel in the
small bed.

“You´re wrong. I´m dreaming of old failures.” Glorfindel buried his head in the
cushions. It was bad enough to face these images in his dreams, he really felt
no need to talk about them.

Elrond touched his shoulder: “Look at me?” Glorfindel turned, hiding his red
rimmed eyes behind his hair. “Tiro Glorfindel!”

He gave in and looked at his friend. The one who had called him back from the
dead.

“You did not fail in Gondolin and will not fail in the future.” The Half-Elf
insisted.

Glorfindel sighed. His friend would not understand the harsh truth. But he
didn´t resist Elrond´s embrace. “I don´t even have the energy to dream of him or
my city. Only people with hope have dreams. All I have are memories and fears.”
he murmered.

Elrond determinedly pulled him close and kissed his forehead: “Antuvanye
estel-i-cen.” He felt protected in Elrond´s arms. The prophecy felt less
important when he was held.
They fell asleep this night and all those following with Elrond holding
Glorfindel.

The days were spent much like before, with Glorfindel catching up with the
Second Age and Elrond learning first hand how to fight legends. And when the
first year passed Glorfindel realised that Elrond was in love with him.
He had feared that for quite some time, probably since he first felt drawn to
the Half-Elf. He had unsucessfully attempted to ignore Elond´s beauty, tried to
smother his instinctive reaching for the love the other offered unconditionally.
It didn´t work.
And so Glorfindel gave into the temptation that already shared his bed.

“So, isn´t it a tad narcissistic to fall for your own vision?”

Elrond looked calmly at him, not raising to the bait: “I´m in love with you and
not with my prophecy.”

Glorfindel sat down next to him on the bed. “One could argue that technically
I´m already yours. I am the warrior you wanted for fighting the future.”

“But I don´t want the warrior of the vision, I want you.” Elrond pushed
Glorfindel flat onto the bed staring hungrily at him. Not wanting to remain
passive Glorfindel closed the gap between them and cautiously kissed Elrond. He
tasted sweet, just as he had imagined. Elrond gently licked his lip and smiled
when he felt Glorfindel stiffen at an unexpected bite.
“I love you.”

Nursing his bitten lip Glorfindel murmured: “You´re not doing this because you
feel obligated to me, right?”

In between small bites to his throat Elrond told him distractedly: “No, I´m
making love to you because I want your hidden fortunes…”

“You what?!” Glorfindel sat apruptly and pushed Elrond down the bed.His lover
grinned up at him from the floor:

“Sorry.” Affectionately he added: “Mark my words Glorfindel: I´m in love with
you. As in: I. Love. You. I can give you a list of reasons: I love the way you
look at me when you wake up, I love your courage, your determination, the way
you make me laugh… ”

Elrond smiled brilliantly as two arms snatched around his waist and he was
pulled back onto the bed. When they spent their passion Elrond held him and
before Glorfindel could fall asleep he heard the other whisper softly: “I´m
loving enough for the two of us.”

He was watching Elrond playing with Celeborn and Galadriel´s young daughter as
Galadriel touched his shoulder:

“Can you spare me a moment?”

“Of course.” Glorfindel smiled at his hostess. “But let me say this first: I
thank you for taking me in. For feeding me, for letting me stay.”

“How could I have not done right to you my old friend?” The Lady kissed his brow
and then continued: “But your time here will soon come to an end. He will ask
you to leave with him. Heed my words: stay with Elrond and cherish the love you
are given. If you leave him you will come to regret it.”

Glorfindel met her eyes: “I will try not to.”

“Not to regret leaving him? Believe me, you will.” The Lady said.

Only a few days later Elrond asked his lover to come with him to Imladris. And
Glorfindel did go with his lover. Despite all he feared, he unfalteringly
followed his call.

Glorfindel could feel himself settle down in Imladris. The place was charming,
offering a beautiful landscape with mountains and forests. The river Bruinen
built a natural fence and kept those unwanted out of Elrond´s realm.
The valley was protected by nature and of course by Vilya, the ring Elrond wore.
And new ties started to bind him. From young guards who shyly approached him for
combat lessons to Erestor who wanted his advice on various matters of tactical
warfare- Glorfindel was becoming part of a community.
He made friends and felt a sense of belonging that deepened whenever a new day
dawned. But when night came the memories of another city haunted him. Elrond had
kept sharing his rooms with Glorfindel in Imladris. But no murmured assurance,
no warming touch and no promise could keep the voices at bay.
At day he could control his fears, but in the gloomy hours of the morning
nothing hurt more than his own doubts. That maybe he was substituting Gondolin
with Imladris. That the soft kiss on his cheek, the warmth behind him was a mere
shadow of the lover he lost. It tore into his soul to accept another´s love.
Elrond put up with his reluctant responses, accepted that there were many nights
when he could not been held in turn. Glorfindel watched Elrond make each day a
commitment to him without his reciprocation. And felt guilty, so very guilty.
When nightmares kept him awake he gazed at the dark haired elf sleeping
peacefully beside him. He felt caged whenever he looked into his wise eyes that
spoke of a trust in the future he couldn´t share. Glorfindel of Gondolin had
failed once when it came to the fight for his home. No amount of songs on his
valiant battle against the Balrog could mantle the harsh truth: he had not saved
his home, his beloved Ecthelion or his people.
He had failed them and the final battle against the Balrog to rescue at least
the scattered remains of the citizens of Gondolin would have been in vain, if
the eagles would not have guarded the battled elves after his death. Often he
had asked Elrond how he could still believe in his vision, in Glorfindel of
Gondolin. He had done almost everything to make Elrond see that the elf he
wanted for a mate was an outdated warrior. An anachronism time would surely
overcome, at least when he had fullfilled his second fate.
In one of these nights in between old memories and the nightmare of a new
failure Glorfindel reached the decision to leave.The morning after he woke
Elrond with soft kisses.
Seldom he was the one initiating their lovemaking, but this morning, it was him
who took the initiative. Tracing Elrond´s features like one would mark a map,
trailing his body as if it was their first time, with awe and wonder.
When they lay side by side afterwards Elrond cupped his face and wiped away the
tears he hadn´t known he was crying.

“You are leaving me.”

Glorfindel had feared this discussion since the day he had followed Elrond to
Imladris. They had both lived in a dream and on borrowed time. He had always
known that one day he would pack his belongings, the few pieces of his first
life he had been able to find and leave Elrond.
This life had not been his choice. He could take no more of this stalling, this
odd waiting on a foreseen fight. It was time to say goodbye because staying any
longer would only break his heart.
He sat up and left the bed, going through his clothes and packing a neat pile.

“Could I change your mind if I asked you to stay?.” The Half-Elf looked
pleadingly at his lover. “Stay? Please stay? I would offer you a home with me, a
place at my side. You will be loved.”

Glorfindel turned to the bed and snorted: “Pen-neth, you didn´t ask for a lover
when the Valar restored me, but for a warrior.”

Elrond looked as if Glorfindel had slapped him: “But we will need you, I have
foreseen this. I will need you!”

“I´m going to be at your side, when the time is right. And I will die for your
world on that day.” The blonde smiled ruefully. “Let me go. Let me roam freely
till we meet again for I was not made from ashes to find rest. I was restored to
fight. I´m not willing to lead a second life.” And he started walking in the
general direction of the door.

Elrond would have none of this and placed himself between the leaving elf and
the door: “You need a home Glorfindel, just like everybody else.”

“And you´re the one to give me my home back, yes?” came the acid reply. “You
have no idea how much I desire to turn the hands of time and live in mere
memories. I have already lived a rich life and I lost it, as I lost my home, my
lover and nothing can replace that. Not even you. I beg nothing of thee, but
this: let me leave if there is any love between us.”

And Elrond Half-Elven stepped aside, staring longingly at his love. “Leave.”

Glorfindel didn´t know what to answer, but tried to apologize anyhow: “You will
find another one to love. One who is not weary of time and doesn´t ache for a
forgotten age.”
He had not expected that the younger elf had already fallen so hard for him. It
was time to leave, before he could break the heart of the kind elf across him
some more. And with the greeting of the warriors of old, he clasped Elronds
wrist in passing.

“From one warrior to another, live in peace.”

Elrond answered in old Sindarin: “Na care indómelya.” and inclining his head he
added: “Anar caluva tielyanna!”

Some part of Glorfindel realised in that instant that he had been around Elrond
for far too long. In between leaving and loving looking back at his lover
standing in the doorframe was the hardest thing he ever did. And he considered
feeling his own heart break only fair. His heart was a fair price for the guilt
he felt.
He would never call a place but Gondolin his home, even if he had to live again.

In the stables he found a white stallion in the place his horse. “So, you are
Asfaloth, right?” The horse nudged him affectionately and not for the last time
Glorfindel wondered just how much Elrond could see of the future. “Seems as if
we´ll be riding together for some time.”

He opened the stable door and left Imladris for good.The urge within him to run
was strong and so Glorfindel travelled through the Second Age much like an elven
knight who fought for the old ideals of honour.
Glorfindel of Nowhere, he named himself and with the same restless energy he
fought, he put the life he had begun behind him. His adventures became songs
sung on many evenings at campfires all across Middle Earth. And while he wasn´t
keen on being called a rogue, that reputation still clung to him. Centuries
passed with Glorfindel roaming the plains, hunting orcs and occassionally making
merry with those who were willing to accept his unsteady presense. He was well
loved in the realms of humans and elves, but whenever he was asked to stay, he
declined and moved on.
The yearning for the quiet beauty of a valley, edged between mountains close to
the river Bruinen became stronger over time. And while Glorfindel fought his way
through poisonous spiders and other foes Imladris and the Last Homely House
gained a reputation of a safe place for all those seeking refuge, for those in
dire need of rest. And its Lord finally found happiness in the arms of another
lover. The Lady Celebrian had captured Elrond´s heart and Glorfindel was unsure
if he would be welcome at the realm anymore.
The Elrond Half-Elven he had known was gone behind ceremonial robes. The warrior
who had faced Sauron had retreated and in his place a healer and scholar ruled
Imladris, a husband and father to three elflings. Galadriel´s warning had come
true. He had lost his love.
But the longer Glorfindel of Gondolin led the life of constant travel, the life
of Glorfindel of Nowhere, the more he realised that he had become somebody else.
He was now Glorfindel of Imladris and whatever safety measure he had taken to
prevent himself from finding a home in this second life had been in vain. Then
one day he simply patted Asfaloth and whispered: “Take me home.”
And the beautiful white stallion obeyed and turned to the place where he had
been born.

3. History in the Making

The yard of Imladris was deserted when Glorfindel rode in. “I´m afraid there
won´t be a homecoming feast Asfaloth. Everybody seems to be hiding.”
Opening the stables he slowly walked up to his old box. He opened the gate and
stepped back, astonished.
Two pairs of identical gray eyes stared up at him. These had to be Elrond´s
sons.

“What are you doing here?” he asked friendly.

“You are not allowed to come in-” one twin started “-this is Asfaloth´s place.”
The other continued with a stern look at Glorfindel.

“Good to know that my memory didn´t deceive me. And Asfaloth should thank you
that you kept his place vacant. Go in Asfaloth and meet Elrond´s sons.”

The stallion stepped inside and sniffed at the two elflings on his straw. Both
twins stared at Glorfindel in wonder.
“You´re Ada´s friend `Del.” The elflings had easily warmed to the big white
horse and petted his muzzles.

“`Del.” Echoed the second twin. Glorfindel had raised his eyebrow at the
shortened form of his name, but accepted it. The elflings obviously knew him as
their father´s friend which meant that he might be allowed to stay.

“Would you take me to your ada and nana?” The two elflings stared at him in
shock and before he could stop them, they weaseled out of the gate, running as
if he had threatened their lives.
Glorfindel shook his head and was quite taken aback at the twins reaction. But
as he could find his way into Imladris blindfolded, he walked on his own in the
direction of the Last Homely House, the main house. In the hall he ran into
Erestor.

“Glorfindel!” he was hugged, fussed over and hugged again by Elrond´s chief
advisor.

“Mae govannen Master Erestor!”

For some time they talked amiably and Erestor released a hundred questions upon
him which he answered laughingly. Glorfindel ended his tales with telling him of
his homecoming and the strange encounter with the twins. But then Erestor became
serious: “You don´t know it, do you?”

“What?” Glorfindel was confused at the hard expression on Erestor´s features.

“Celebrian died.” He said.

“What?” Glorfindel almost screamed. “She was making a visit in `Lorien and on
the way back she was captured by orcs. Elrond could only retrieve her dead body.
That happened over two years ago.”

Glorfindel was shocked speechless. Though he had feared Celebrian´s rejection of
his presense in Imladris, he had not wished her ill. He fondly remembered the
little daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel and when he heard that she had married
his love, he had been happy for them. For both of them.

Erestor sighed. “He misses her. Every single day. – Much like he missed you.” He
added almost like an afterthought. “Are you done running Glorfindel? Are you
here to stay? For I would keep you from him, if you only break his heart some
more.” The advisor glared at him.

“I´m here to stay for the remaining time.” Glorfindel answered brokenly. “I
thought it would end well for him if I was gone…”Erestor looked questioningly
at him, but Glorfindel was already on his way to Elrond´s study.

He opened the door and saw Elrond sitting behind his desk, almost covered from
view from a pile of scrolls.

“I´m working Erestor, please leave.” The Half-Elf said not even looking up.

“I´m not Erestor.” Glorfindel replied.

Elrond knocked the papers all over the the small room in his haste to get
up.”You.” He stuttered.

“Aye, me.” Glorfindel forced a cheerful smile on his face.

Elrond seemed weary, tired: “What are you doing here Glorfindel? It is not time
yet.”

“I know. I come to pledge myself to thee, for better or worse till the end of
Arda.” Glorfindel said with sudden inspiration.

Elrond heard his declaration and sat back into his chair.”Oh.” The Half-Elf
exhaled staring at his scattered papers.

“Shall I help you sort the papers my Lord?” Glorfindel gently asked.

Elrond nodded baffled: “Please?”

And with that Glorfindel became part of Elrond´s house. His tasks varied greatly
through the years and he accepted each of them. He became a fierce instructor to
Elrohir and Elladan, but also their source for comfort and occasionally cookies.
He brought life back into the Last Homely House, forcing its Lord out of his
grief.
The patrols guarding Imladris became his to command and before long his position
was that of a seneschal. Yet he still kept his distance from Elrond, not wishing
to invade his privacy. Instead of using his name, he called Elrond by his title,
even if all of the court wondered loudly about it. Glorfindel didn´t care.
He became close to the twins, Arwen and even Erestor, but he did not allow
himself the pleasure of Elrond´s company. To his mind he didn´t deserve it
outside of council meetings and work related inquiries.
Still Elrond wouldn´t totally tolerate his choice. When night came and
nightmares of old plagued Glorfindel, the Lord of Imladris quietly sneaked into
the bed of his seneschal and held him tight till the morning broke.
Then he left as silent as he had come and neither talked about it in daylight.
This was the only thing remaining from their days as lovers. And still
everything had changed.
Life had taken its toll, and Glorfindel didn´t mourn his return to Arda anymore.
He didn´t mind spending every day in the prospect of losing his life, on the
contrary he rejoiced in all the beauty life offered, being alive as much as
possible. The remaining time to the day Elrond had foreseen Glorfindel decided
should be enjoyed. Often visitors to Imladris remarked that Glorfindel seemingly
vibrated with life. Many even claimed that he radiated a visible light and
remarks on it brought a smile to his lips.

Centuries passed and with them the time of the elves in middle-earth ended.
Glorfindel knew his last day had come even before Elrond called him into his
study early one morning in a time that would one day be called the third age.
The air was filled with silence and Arda was whispering to him of dangers close
to the frontier of Imladris. He followed his Lord´s call and carefully listened
to the instructions he received.
Elessar, Elrond´s foster son, was on the way to Imladris with four halflings,
one of them being the Ringbearer. His task was to find them before the Nazgul
could harm them.

When Elrond finished Glorfindel took courage and touched his Lord´s face.

“I do love you, you know? I never stopped.”

Elrond traced his lips with a finger. “I didn´t either.”

“I´ve never wanted to hurt you. I thought if I left you´d lead a better, a
happier life.”

“I had a life full of joy and pain, but Glorfindel I chose that life on my own.
You were never responsible for my actions, for me falling in love with you or
with Celebrian. My grief in this life came through my choices and I take it
gladly for it means that I have been loved and loved in return with all of my
heart.” Elrond declared. “Stop feeling guilty. Just listen once to me: You´re
not at fault. Let go of the past.”

Glorfindel smiled sadly: “Better late than never?” and kissed him.

The kiss was brief and Glorfindel forced back tears to make their goodbye less
bitter. He wanted his lover to remember him smiling, not frightened of death.
And with a bright expression he added: “So I´m leaving this world with a lighter
heart than I stepped into it.”

On the second day of his search for the halflings and Elessar Glorfindel and the
Nazgul crossed blades at the bridge over the river Bruinen. He was not afraid to
die and three servants of the Dark Lord had to flee under his fierce attack. He
followed them west, meeting two other ringwraiths that didn´t stand against him
either.
But when he finally found the small group around the ringbearer, doom was close.
Frodo was severely wounded. He and Elessar tried to hold the group together, but
they had to quicken their pace. The Halflings couldn´t keep up with th hastened
pace and soon the Nazgul were following them again. They had felt the ring
moving to Imladris and its bearer falling under their spell.
Elessar and Glorfindel decided to split the group, Glorfindel should ride
Asfaloth with Frodo, and Elessar would follow more slowly with the other
halflings. But before they could put their plan into making the Nazgul attacked.
Glorfindel took Frodo in his arms and called to his horse: “Noro lim, noro lim
Asfaloth!” and the stallion obeyed.
The Nazgul hunted them mercilessly and Glorfindel felt their cold fingers reach
for his charge. But every time he got Frodo away from them. At last they reached
the river Bruinen but the ringwraiths kept following them into the water.

“Give us the Halfling Dead-Elf! Give him to us!” they howled. Asfaloth rose and
Glorfindel raised his sword.

They would not get Frodo or the ring. He was the one destined to fight on this
day and no Ringwraith could easily overpower him. Taunting his opponents he
screamed: “If you want him, come and get him!”

The Nazgul screeched and forced their reluctant horses into the floods. “Give
him to us!”

He felt the water of the Bruinen calling out to him, warning him to get back on
land. Asfaloth climbed the riverside just in time. The waters rose and waves in
the shape of horses broke free. The Nazgul and their black horses were pulled
into the swirling waters and driven away.

He didn´t wait for the water to ebb down because he felt the halfling in his
arms fading. He was so close to Imladris, he was so close to fullfilling his
task. The Ringbearer had to survive and so he forced Asfaloth again into a wild
run up the last miles to Imladris.His arrival on the yard had been awaited and
his charge was carefully lifted from his arms and into Elrond´s.
Erestor who helped him down Asfaloth hugged him and said: “Lord Elrond will meet
you in his study, when his task is completed. Now go and dry Asfaloth.”

Following Erestor´s advice he got his horse into the stables and cared for the
one friend who had truly walked the wild with him. He knew it would take Elrond
some time to examine Frodo and heal him, but he was sure that Elrond could save
the Ringbearer. They had been just in time.

Glorfindel walked the way to Elrond´s study as if he was asleep. He was alive
though he had completed the purpose he had been sent back for. The Ringbearer
was rescued. And Glorfindel of Imladris was still alive! It didn´t make sense at
all.
The Half-Elf sat in a chair near the fire place, staring into the flames. He
didn´t turn his head when Glorfindel made a rather noisy entry. It seemed as if
he had expected the banging doors and the sound of heavy boots heading in his
direction. For all Glorfindel knew about his lover, it could be that Elrond had
foreseen his fight and his return long before they had met for the first time in
`Lorien.

“You are home mellon-nin.” Elrond greeted him softly.

The endearment drained Glorfindel. He fell to his knees in front of the Lord of
Imladris and put his head onto Elrond´s lap. He choked on the words he wanted to
scream, and he remained silently in this position a long time, not even noticing
the soft stroking through his hair and the fact that Elrond carefully repaired
his loosened braids.

After some time Glorfindel raised his head and stated: “I…. I didn´t die this
time. I didn´t fail.”

Elrond looked calmly into his eyes : “I knew you would not.”

And with that simple sentence he made Glorfindel understand that he could have
prevented their heart break all along for the Valar had given him a second
chance in restoring him. History was not repeating itself, history was in the
making. He had not been bound to Elrond´s vision, it had been his choice to
fullfill the prophecy.

“I´m so sorry that I made you wait all this time. That I broke your heart over
and over. That I wasn´t there to protect Celebrian…” His frantic confession
was stopped when Elrond kissed him.

“Stop it. This time it will be alright. We´ll make it alright.”

*fin*

Elvish Translations:

“Galadriel! Utúlien o´Mandos sinome maruvan. Si Morgoth-alantiero?” – Galadriel!
I have come back from Mando´s Halls to this place. Has Mandos been defeated
(fallen)?

“Umin quette mea”- I´m not speaking well.

“Tiro Glorfindel!” – Look at me Glorfindel!

“Antuvanye estel-i-cen” – I will give hope to you.

“Na care indómelya”- Your will shall be.

“Anar caluva tielyanna!”- May the sun light your path!

“Noro lim, noro lim Asfaloth!”- Run, run Asfaloth!

“mellon-nin”- my friend

source: Helmut Pesch, Elbisch (Grammatik, Schrift und Wörterbuch) Bastei/Lübbe
2003

Music that inspired this story: Sting- A thousand Years, Dido- Hunter, Maroon 5-
She will be loved and Mike and the Mechanics- Another Cup of Coffee.