Glorfindel lay on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. He was gasping for air, for only very little came into his lungs, it seemed. His sword was still held loosely in his hand, though he truly had no use for it now.

He didn’t think he could hold on much longer, but he was, in hopes that someone, other than another orc, would find him. His vision was becoming more and more dull by the second; his hearing was becoming more and more terrible as well.

He hoped that the twins were alright.

He closed his eyes, finding it to hard to do anything other than breathe at the time.

“Glorfindel? Where are you?!” he heard fuzzily.

“Glorfindel? Can you hear us?!”

He longed to answer, but no sound came, and his lungs strongly protested speaking.


The voice sounded closer, now.

“Ro! I found him! Come quick!”

So they were alright.

Glorfindel felt a hand gently slide beneath his head. He wanted to look at the twins, as he was sure that both were by his side, but he couldn’t open his eyes.

“Glorfindel? Can you please answer us?” one said, his voice choked with tears.

Glorfindel tried all he could, but no sound would pass his lips.

He felt gentle though strong arms slip under him and lift him from the ground, but his pain came rushing back to him.

His wounds brought him memories of his fight with the balrog.

He was trying to say something and hold back his pain, but he just couldn’t help but let a whimper go through his lips.

The arms around him tightened their grip slightly.

“Don’t worry, Glorfindel. We will get you back home. And you will be alright. I promise.”

Ok, dudes. Like, totaly review. Honestly. this is just the prolouge.

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