Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 0:16:48 GMT
Author: Wunderkind
Ranking: 3rd place
Synopsis: Little Estel has noticed everyone is worried, and for good reason, for Elrond’s sons have went off to fight the monsters that hunt him. Fearful for his beloved friends, the boy finds himself in the company of the elf that lived twice…perhaps Glorfindel can bring some hope?
Rating: K/All Ages
The boy hid behind elaborate marble pillars, his grey eyes huge, like saucers in his young face. He attempted to remain hidden - silent as a mouse - for he should not have wandered this far.
Estel had been happily lopping around the great mansions of Imladris, bored and seeking adventure. Usually some elf would take pity on his plight, after all elves were full of interesting ideas and lessons...but not today.
He had sought out Elrond's sons in the early morning, those two were his favoured entertainers and they nearly always had wonderfully mischievous plans. Sadly, he had learned from the stable boys that the twins had left in the night, and Estel had stood mournfully by the river banks longing for the day he could join them on their great quests. Unfortunately he was only a boy, and though he had great skill with a fancy dagger gifted to him by Elladan, he still wasn't entirely convinced he could face an orc or goblin just yet.
Orcs! They were awfully ugly things. He had seen a dying orc once, he had watched as Elrohir wrung information from him, and he had shamefully hid behind Elladan's robes as he did. When the orc gargled and spat in his dying breaths -and Lord Elrond raised a merciful hand to have his son end the beasts suffering - Estel ran. He did not want to see death, or more so he did not wish to his adoptive brothers, who were always filled with mirth and joy, murder something. The grim and hate filled looks held in their eyes mirrored that of the orc's, and the darkness in all their souls had frightened the boy.
One day he knew he would kill an Orc, but what if one day an Orc killed him? What if they stood around him with black eyes all filled with scathing hate, and stuck a rusted blade in his belly? No, he didn't much like that idea. His mother said monsters were always after him, and the elves would keep him safe - but what if the monsters got him? Death seemed empty and cruel, it was something one faced alone with no guarantee of waking up somewhere new.
Estel always considered death when the twins went away, because when they did everyone seemed tense. Imladris became quiet, like it was waiting on bad news. Lord Elrond would take to his rooms, and his mother said he went to pray for his sons. The others, like Erestor or Lindir - his friends and teachers - they did not seem so jovial and would walk around with somber faces and speak in rooms in hushed voices. Estel had learned that this was worry, and everyone worried until their loved ones returned safe, because they might come home sick or hurt, or worse...sometimes they didn't come home at all. No one liked death, and everyone feared it...everyone but one;
Lord Glorfindel.
The very same elf that Estel had happened upon during his thoughtful stroll around the mansion. In his curiosity he had wandered into some previously unexplored rooms, and it would appear these rooms belonged to the eccentric and revered elf Lord.
Chewing his bottom lip, the boy considered the irony of his discovery. On his day of consideration of death he had found the Balrog Slayer who did not die. The twins told him stories of Glorfindel, they said he had strong magic, and that he came back from death...the very thing everyone feared. To the young mortal child this being was far beyond his reach, and being so awed and frightened of the golden haired elf, Estel had chosen to hide when he was present - not that he was present much. Glorfindel spent many months abroad on secretive missions, and when he returned he spent much time in his rooms…the same rooms Estel had now entered uninvited.
Glorfindel sat on an open window ledge, his eyes cast out over the valley, one knee cocked to rest his arm on and in his hand he played with a single white flower. Estel had hoped his presence and went unnoticed, and as he slowly attempted to back away he let a breath of relief escape his lips...a careless action indeed.
"Do not be foolish boy," the elf Lord spoke evenly, his eyes not leaving the horizon, as Estel froze like a startled rabbit.
There was a moment of silence before Glorfindel turned in the direction of the sound, leaning forward to peer around the pillar at the curly haired intruder. A smile broke the elf's expressionless face, and to Estel it seemed like the sun itself shone from about him making him more radiant and other-worldly than ever before.
"I-I-I-" Estel stammered, his hands fidgeting at his sides and his eyes still wide with fright. Glorfindel only continued to smile, unnerving the child further.
"I said...do not be foolish," Glorfindel repeated himself and gestured a hand to the free space beside him on the window ledge, and then to the small side table laden with buns, cakes, and to Estel's delight, toffees and candied fruits. The elf lord's smile widened further at the child's greedy look, so he simply tapped the ledge with his palm and said, "stay and feast with me...it would be foolish to miss out.”
Timidly, the boy shuffled into the room and perched politely opposite Glorfindel, who dutifully cut a whack of cake that could easily feed two grown men and handed it to the child. Estel could barely contain his happiness as he reached for the luxurious treat.
"I never see the sense in denying oneself treats," Glorfindel sighed happily as he selected a delightful looking pastry and practically swallowed it whole. Licking the honey from his fingers, he turned to grin impishly at the child; "I find it completely nonsensical to wait until after dinner for cake when we can just have cake for dinner! Do you not agree little hope?” Estel grinned - a grin that was a mouthful of crumbly golden goodness and powered sugar. Glorfindel chuckled, delighted that he had at least one supporter to his theory.
The elf sat quietly and patiently watched the boy eat his fill, only butting in every so often to inquire if he liked the icing, or if he wanted some more honey. When at last the two had finished, and the plate of delicious sweets was nothing more but ravaged crumbs and decimated crusts, Glorfindel decided to question his surprise visitor.
"So, little hope, what brings you so deep into the mansions this fine day?" He asked as he observed the now relaxed child in his midst. "Should you not be out in the gardens, hunting toads and slaying dragons?”
"There was no one to hunt or slay with," Estel sighed, twitching a little at the implied words. His brothers were hunting and slaying elsewhere, and not just in pretend.
"Ah, well that is most unfortunate," Glorfindel mused as he eyed the boy with curiosity, intrigued by the worry in his little face. He was so young to know such fear, so very young to be so very cautious. Crossing his arms about his chest, the elf settled back against the arch of the window-frame and considered his next words carefully. "It is not always easy to enjoy oneself when fear is close by...do not worry my friend, Elrond's sons will return to us soon, 'tis not their time to leave us yet.”
"How do you know that?" Estel asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing at the strange elf who merely grinned confidently back.
"Because I know," Glorfindel replied rather unhelpfully and to this Estel rolled his eyes, amusing the elf further. "Do you not know who I am, little hope? Have you not heard the stories?”
"I have," the boy murmured, flinching a little at the thought.
"Then do you not think I would know if death was near?"
The question took the boy off guard, and timidly he looked up at the radiant elf to find a sad but wise look in his eyes. Suddenly, Estel did not think he was sitting in the presence of a mere elf but something more, though his mind was too young to know of what he was. All Estel knew was in the moment he had peace, an assurance that the twins would come home safe and well, and that worry was needless.
"Are you not frightened of death?" Estel asked in his new found calm. He was curious to know why Glorfindel was so able to resist the fear of the one thing that seemed to haunt everyone else? He would have thought that dying, and so knowing death, would make the fear worse...but perhaps he was wrong?
Glorfindel studied the boy carefully for a long moment, before glancing away into the horizon again...did he not fear death? It was a good question, a sensible one, a question no one had dared ask him because everyone was too frightened to know of death. The funny thing was he did not really remember his death, he remembered life...
...He remembered the sun was hot on his bare back, and he had groaned quietly into the grainy sand.
It hurt…pain?
Pain seemed like a distant memory and yet, in this moment, it was all too brutally close...heat, and pain, and burning. He writhed in the memory until a clarity came to his thoughts. The unmistakable far off notes of a miraculous symphony. His heart stuttered in his chest...the memories...so vivid...so binding.
*****
He passed, through fire and shadow - his end had been mercifully quick. Then time fragmented into nothing but glittering light - like looking through crystal. He wondered then, if this was what happened when the flesh of ones body disintegrated leaving the spirit free to escape into the wind...a westward wind that would carry his fate.
The air tinkled around him, or through him, or was him - he was not sure which - and it sang like whispering chimes. The sound was peaceful and calming. In it he forgot much of what was, and he rested in its lullaby.
The light held him in repose for a time.
A time long, enough to let Arien rise and set upon the lost shadows of Gondolin. Long enough to allow Tilion to sail the skies turning the name of his home into a dream. A time for the trees of the world to grow tall, and new rivers to reshape the land. A time for elves to lessen and men to grow proud. He rested long, but time did not change him nor did it touch him until the appointed hour.
On that hour he was given his sight to see and his hearing to comprehend. Yet it was not as it was; such sight and hearing was not of him. He saw great things, lands he had never beheld, voices he could not understand. He saw Arda as it was now and as he remembered. He saw all that had come before and after he had dwelt there, but he also sensed a flavour of what could come, and his heart grieved for the people of the world he had called home.
When all this was through, the soft tinkling music grew greater so that it became a symphony of song made up of all the voices of life. The sound wrought him undone, for in it was a note he had never heard and it was the greatest chord that sang through all, bringing all together, and making all beautiful.
He was subject to the wishes of that one sound, recognising it above all others as the authority of all living things.
Eru Illuvatar.
The voice of the Father of all spoke to his spirit in its majestic note. The great voice of the One roused his spirit and made it strong, blessing him to rise up and go forth into Arda and do as he was commissioned...defend the innocent.
That was when he awoke, his spirit bound to flesh, his sight limited to the strength of his physical eyes, and his hearing confined to the echoes of his ears...but the tinkling music still sang in his spirit.
That was when he stood for the first time in his new form, and before him stood another.
"Then it is so," the voice of a being that appeared like a man but was not, spoke to him with a hint of awe. "Father's choices continue to surprise and confound me...Balrog slayer?”
"Manwë...He spoke of his affection for you." He heard his new voice, strong and bright, like wind chimes in the spring breeze. He paused, listening to the guidance of the music, "I am to trust you...you bring counsel.”
"Miraculous," Manwë breathed almost too himself as he approached the golden haired elf - a beautiful creature but a lesser creature all the same. "You hear our music?”
"Yes," he gave his answer simply, lowering his gaze before the Valar King. "But I am not part of it, I am only a spectator to my Creator's plans.”
"Nay child," the King spoke, his eyes like crystal flame and his aura growing in light as he appeared to draw closer. "You are part of it, you are no longer a mere elf, you have been Vivified by the Father and he has blessed you with a spirit of a servant...young maia.”
"Not Maiar," the once elf replied, his dimmed eyes straining into the horizon - the silhouette of a country rising in the distance. "Less than one but more than what I was...a messenger I am...to go before...He did not say to whom I would be before?”
"And that is why you have come to me," Manwë spoke, his glittering eyes filling with joy and love as he beheld the same horizon. "There are still those in that land that know you, who will be expecting you. You are to go forth and be a sign of the mercy and greatness of the One. Then they will trust you, and only you, when the others come.”
"What others? Those like me?”
"Nay, greater than you but not in heart," the Vala laughed and extended his arm to rest gently on the young one's shoulder, guiding him closer to the precipice where Eagles rested beneath their feet in rocky crags. "Your heart is deemed fit for a guardian, and guardians never cease in their purpose to defend the ignorant and the innocent. You will be the first to return but not the last, and you will protect as was always your purpose. You will bring comfort and trust, when the others come, those you serve will look to you for assurance...you will know who is of Eru and who is not...have you not been given the spirit to hear? Do you not trust the words of the One who roused you from among the reposed...do you doubt the very music that flows in you now?”
He paused for a moment and listened. The notes in his spirit made little sense until focused on, then he heard names and places. Unfamiliar sounding things but he trusted them, for their sound was love, and truth, and in those things is found power.
"I trust," he managed to say, his new spirit easily distracted in its awe of creation. "Though I am frightened...this world has changed...I have changed.”
"Fear is good," Manwë replied sombrely, turning the young being to face him. "Fear will keep you safe, it will keep you sharp, but do not let it consume you. You must go now, for your time has been appointed...Father permits it to be so.”
"But where will I go, who must I find...none will know me?"
The Lord of all the Valar laughed tenderly and embraced the youngling. He held him tight and whispered in his ear;
"Trust us...and if not us then the One who roused you. Go now, and do not fret, we will commune again soon...Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower.”
*****
He remembered nothing after those words were uttered, the only thing he knew next was life...he remembered awakening to a new life...and it was not easy!
Life was hard...harder than death….
*****
"Gl-or-fin-del?" His name sounded course on his thick and clumsy tongue, not the same clear voice from before. His arms moved clumsily against the wet sand, his chest heaving against the shock of needing air, and the drag of gravity on his body disorientated him.
His eyes saw nothing but blinding light, and he reached with his palm to shield them from the painful light. He squirmed and pulled until he bent his body to his will, making it sit up, making it hear and feel. Everything felt dimmed, everything was constrained and forced into limited senses, or at least it felt as much. His spirit had been free of the restrictions of flesh for too long, his senses had heightened and expanded beyond that of his kin...he was no more an elf than a man in this moment.
So, for several long minutes he perceived his new form.
Large hands with long fingers spread out before his eyes. He stretched and coiled them, laughing a little in wonderment at the strangeness of such a thing. Next he found his toes and wiggled them gleefully in the gloopy sand. He touched his face, Marvelling how his fingertips brushed over a strong jaw and high set cheek bones. Eventually he found the lengths of his hair and pawed the long strands into view. They were damp but still gleamed like molten gold - at least this was familiar. At last he finished his curiosity and became aware of the wonderment of the world about him.
The sea lapped just inches from his toes, the sun had risen in the horizon and it shone with such incredible vibrancy that he was momentarily awestruck. The musical notes intensified in this moment; joyful, praising, and triumphant. A new day was dawning and it was full of hope.
But there was more than the coastal beauty to be captivated by...there were voices...elven voices.
Glorfindel shakily inched his body towards the sound, but felt it tremble and shudder, a wave of exhaustion hitting him...he was weak?
The voices shouted to him, to each other, until at last his vision settled and he beheld three elves standing above him, each wearing expressions of concern and panic. He tried to speak but his tongue felt clumsy in his mouth, and at first his words were all but confused mumbles.
"Quick!" One spoke urgently, a female, and pointed to the other, "give me your cape...he must be frozen.”
That was when he became aware of his nakedness. He wore nothing but this new and restrictive skin, that felt tight and uncomfortable but not unbearable. In time he would relearn it, in time he would cherish it, but in the moment it was a burden. Part of him registered that he was indeed a male, and that this was indeed an extremely difficult situation to put an elleth in. For the first time he felt heat flood him, and his skin bloomed pink...he was embarrassed...and for a moment he was transfixed by the emotion. In the next heartbeat he made to shield himself, his unused lips and tongue proving difficult to command and nothing but a stuttered sound of an apology escaped him as the elleth knelt by him and draped the grey cape about his shoulders, smiling kindly as she did so.
"It is alright," she murmured in a wonderfully gentle tone, "I am no innocent maid, it is only flesh, no need to be ashamed my friend...come now...you have nothing to fear.”
The music in his spirit sang in unison with the elleth's, and he knew it was right to go with her. She and her companions would care for him, and from them he would find the being who was awaiting him...that was what the music told him anyway. He had to trust it, for right now it was all he could trust.
"Do you have a name?" Another asked, kneeling down by the female, his dark grey eyes shadowed with a concern that Glorfindel wished to tell him was unnecessary, but it was a struggle.
"Gla-umngh-" he scowled at his knees, his words were jumbled but his spirit was singing in languages beyond the comprehension of many...it was frustrating.
"Here, you must be parched," the ellon offered as he handed over a water skin, but Glorfindel's uncoordinated fingers struggled with the action, and so the ellon assisted in drubbing the water over his lips.
Water? He thought and a pleasurable moan escaped him. He was thirsty, terribly thirsty, and suddenly the soothing water felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. So he hungrily drained the skin, panting and gasping as the cold water caught his newly breathing lungs. He spluttered and shook his head...more sensations...it was beginning to feel overwhelming, but he had to focus, he had a purpose, the music reminded him.
"Gl-glor-f-f-fin-d-dell," he stammered, pleased that his tongue and lips felt freer. He blinked between the three companions, the third - another male - who stared back in vague recognition. Glorfindel breathed in deeply again, finding his new voice stronger; "M-my n-ame is Glorfindel.”
"Of Gondolin?" The third elf - with the dark features that reminded him of the Noldor - asked in shock.
"N-not any...anym-more," Glorfindel heaved a sigh, the Creator had told him to forget his old name, to let it die in the past, henceforth he was only Glorfindel. He patted his chest, feeling his new heart thump quietly under the surface of his new coverings; "I-I am only a servant...w-where is the Master of the tides...where is the k-keeper of the ha-havens?”
The three companions stared in bewilderment, before the elleth glanced to the ellon who knew the name of Glorfindel. The two shared a long and meaningful look, which Glorfindel ascertained as questioning his sanity - he gave a soft laugh - yes, his sanity was questionable.
"Lord Cirdan has been expecting a sign," the third ellon spoke slowly, his eyes sweeping over the golden haired elf being before him. The ellon considered that this one was not just elf, his fea burned with a fierce new light, and his eyes...his eyes seemed deep and wise...like the spirit within was as old as the world itself yet as young and fresh as spring. If this was not a sign, he did not know what was.
"L-Lord Cirdan, has been ex-expecting me," Glorfindel smiled encouragingly, holding his hand out for the ellon; "I-I...my legs...I do not t-trust this new skin...it f-fails me. M-may I beg your assis-ass-ta-“
"Assistance! Yes, yes of course my lord," the elleth sprang in, carefully ensuring the cape was secured and she had a supporting hand to his shoulder and arm.
"L-like a ch-ild," Glorfindel gave a chuckle and shook his head, pointing vaguely towards his lips then pressing a hand to the elleth's arm; "I...it...um...w-words will g-get bet-ter...n-need p-p-p…something."
"Practice? Yes, practice will help," the elleth smiled and Glorfindel laughed heartily, he really did sound ridiculous but there was little need in worrying or getting upset. This body was new and strange, even bodily functions seemed bizarre and confusing - he would have much to reacquaint himself with but at least he had time.
"Can you walk?" The second elf asked, and Glorfindel pursed his lips in consideration for a moment, before a slow but deliberate smirk spread across his lips.
"N-not l-likely," he said then gave a little shrug, "b-but may-maybe I c-can...eh..." He swayed a little to show his meaning, "wh-what is the w-word...St...stagger! Maybe I could stagger...l-like a Dr-drunk...that would be amu-amusing f-for Cirdan.”
"You are surprisingly positive for one so restricted," the third elf chuckled as he assisted the elleth to help Glorfindel to his feet.
"Alive!" Glorfindel cried with purposeful delight, making the three companions start, which in turned made Glorfindel laugh all the more; "I am alive...th-there is much t-to be joyful for...come m-my new f-friends...I h-have much to learn.”
*****
Estel watched the elf before him with concern mingled with bemusement...he had not expected his question to be so taxing? He was also abruptly worried that Glorfindel had fallen asleep, because it was very hard to tell with elves, and the child debated poking him a few times just to be sure. Leaning forward, the boy curiously attempted to lock eyes with the elf's seemingly vacant ones, giving a little cough in an attempt to gain his host's attention.
Glorfindel blinked and twisted his head to the small person beside him. Smiling, he pondered Estel. The boy was small but sturdy, dark curly hair framing a handsome young face, and startling eyes that were not often seen in his mortal kin. Hope they called him, and he was quite little to embody all the hope of men, but somehow the little fellow did indeed bring him hope. Turning his head out to the horizon, Glorfindel sighed and answered the child's burning question.
"I do not fear death, but I also fear life," he said plainly, and they boy pulled a face in confusion - that was not the answer he expected. Glorfindel laughed and placed a gentle hand on his small shoulders. "There are things to fear in both, but wonderment also. Death is just another passage of time, just as life is, they are a balance and one does not exist without the other. We all must face the hardships of life, and we all must face the loneliness of death, but do you know what we have to combat those fears?" Glorfindel asked Estel with the hint of a wise old smile on the corners of his lips.
The boy shook his head, and Glorfindel placed a finger under his chin tilting his gaze to meet the elf's own. The elf's eyes swam with a depth the child had not seen before, and he was transfixed, awaiting the answer that would steal his fear away. What weapon could he use to defeat all his fears? The elf's eyes crinkled at their corners, amusement evident in his features, but when he spoke his voice was kind and full of wisdom. So much so that the child believed it.
"Hope," he said, "fear cannot live in the heart that has hope."
Ranking: 3rd place
Synopsis: Little Estel has noticed everyone is worried, and for good reason, for Elrond’s sons have went off to fight the monsters that hunt him. Fearful for his beloved friends, the boy finds himself in the company of the elf that lived twice…perhaps Glorfindel can bring some hope?
Rating: K/All Ages
The boy hid behind elaborate marble pillars, his grey eyes huge, like saucers in his young face. He attempted to remain hidden - silent as a mouse - for he should not have wandered this far.
Estel had been happily lopping around the great mansions of Imladris, bored and seeking adventure. Usually some elf would take pity on his plight, after all elves were full of interesting ideas and lessons...but not today.
He had sought out Elrond's sons in the early morning, those two were his favoured entertainers and they nearly always had wonderfully mischievous plans. Sadly, he had learned from the stable boys that the twins had left in the night, and Estel had stood mournfully by the river banks longing for the day he could join them on their great quests. Unfortunately he was only a boy, and though he had great skill with a fancy dagger gifted to him by Elladan, he still wasn't entirely convinced he could face an orc or goblin just yet.
Orcs! They were awfully ugly things. He had seen a dying orc once, he had watched as Elrohir wrung information from him, and he had shamefully hid behind Elladan's robes as he did. When the orc gargled and spat in his dying breaths -and Lord Elrond raised a merciful hand to have his son end the beasts suffering - Estel ran. He did not want to see death, or more so he did not wish to his adoptive brothers, who were always filled with mirth and joy, murder something. The grim and hate filled looks held in their eyes mirrored that of the orc's, and the darkness in all their souls had frightened the boy.
One day he knew he would kill an Orc, but what if one day an Orc killed him? What if they stood around him with black eyes all filled with scathing hate, and stuck a rusted blade in his belly? No, he didn't much like that idea. His mother said monsters were always after him, and the elves would keep him safe - but what if the monsters got him? Death seemed empty and cruel, it was something one faced alone with no guarantee of waking up somewhere new.
Estel always considered death when the twins went away, because when they did everyone seemed tense. Imladris became quiet, like it was waiting on bad news. Lord Elrond would take to his rooms, and his mother said he went to pray for his sons. The others, like Erestor or Lindir - his friends and teachers - they did not seem so jovial and would walk around with somber faces and speak in rooms in hushed voices. Estel had learned that this was worry, and everyone worried until their loved ones returned safe, because they might come home sick or hurt, or worse...sometimes they didn't come home at all. No one liked death, and everyone feared it...everyone but one;
Lord Glorfindel.
The very same elf that Estel had happened upon during his thoughtful stroll around the mansion. In his curiosity he had wandered into some previously unexplored rooms, and it would appear these rooms belonged to the eccentric and revered elf Lord.
Chewing his bottom lip, the boy considered the irony of his discovery. On his day of consideration of death he had found the Balrog Slayer who did not die. The twins told him stories of Glorfindel, they said he had strong magic, and that he came back from death...the very thing everyone feared. To the young mortal child this being was far beyond his reach, and being so awed and frightened of the golden haired elf, Estel had chosen to hide when he was present - not that he was present much. Glorfindel spent many months abroad on secretive missions, and when he returned he spent much time in his rooms…the same rooms Estel had now entered uninvited.
Glorfindel sat on an open window ledge, his eyes cast out over the valley, one knee cocked to rest his arm on and in his hand he played with a single white flower. Estel had hoped his presence and went unnoticed, and as he slowly attempted to back away he let a breath of relief escape his lips...a careless action indeed.
"Do not be foolish boy," the elf Lord spoke evenly, his eyes not leaving the horizon, as Estel froze like a startled rabbit.
There was a moment of silence before Glorfindel turned in the direction of the sound, leaning forward to peer around the pillar at the curly haired intruder. A smile broke the elf's expressionless face, and to Estel it seemed like the sun itself shone from about him making him more radiant and other-worldly than ever before.
"I-I-I-" Estel stammered, his hands fidgeting at his sides and his eyes still wide with fright. Glorfindel only continued to smile, unnerving the child further.
"I said...do not be foolish," Glorfindel repeated himself and gestured a hand to the free space beside him on the window ledge, and then to the small side table laden with buns, cakes, and to Estel's delight, toffees and candied fruits. The elf lord's smile widened further at the child's greedy look, so he simply tapped the ledge with his palm and said, "stay and feast with me...it would be foolish to miss out.”
Timidly, the boy shuffled into the room and perched politely opposite Glorfindel, who dutifully cut a whack of cake that could easily feed two grown men and handed it to the child. Estel could barely contain his happiness as he reached for the luxurious treat.
"I never see the sense in denying oneself treats," Glorfindel sighed happily as he selected a delightful looking pastry and practically swallowed it whole. Licking the honey from his fingers, he turned to grin impishly at the child; "I find it completely nonsensical to wait until after dinner for cake when we can just have cake for dinner! Do you not agree little hope?” Estel grinned - a grin that was a mouthful of crumbly golden goodness and powered sugar. Glorfindel chuckled, delighted that he had at least one supporter to his theory.
The elf sat quietly and patiently watched the boy eat his fill, only butting in every so often to inquire if he liked the icing, or if he wanted some more honey. When at last the two had finished, and the plate of delicious sweets was nothing more but ravaged crumbs and decimated crusts, Glorfindel decided to question his surprise visitor.
"So, little hope, what brings you so deep into the mansions this fine day?" He asked as he observed the now relaxed child in his midst. "Should you not be out in the gardens, hunting toads and slaying dragons?”
"There was no one to hunt or slay with," Estel sighed, twitching a little at the implied words. His brothers were hunting and slaying elsewhere, and not just in pretend.
"Ah, well that is most unfortunate," Glorfindel mused as he eyed the boy with curiosity, intrigued by the worry in his little face. He was so young to know such fear, so very young to be so very cautious. Crossing his arms about his chest, the elf settled back against the arch of the window-frame and considered his next words carefully. "It is not always easy to enjoy oneself when fear is close by...do not worry my friend, Elrond's sons will return to us soon, 'tis not their time to leave us yet.”
"How do you know that?" Estel asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing at the strange elf who merely grinned confidently back.
"Because I know," Glorfindel replied rather unhelpfully and to this Estel rolled his eyes, amusing the elf further. "Do you not know who I am, little hope? Have you not heard the stories?”
"I have," the boy murmured, flinching a little at the thought.
"Then do you not think I would know if death was near?"
The question took the boy off guard, and timidly he looked up at the radiant elf to find a sad but wise look in his eyes. Suddenly, Estel did not think he was sitting in the presence of a mere elf but something more, though his mind was too young to know of what he was. All Estel knew was in the moment he had peace, an assurance that the twins would come home safe and well, and that worry was needless.
"Are you not frightened of death?" Estel asked in his new found calm. He was curious to know why Glorfindel was so able to resist the fear of the one thing that seemed to haunt everyone else? He would have thought that dying, and so knowing death, would make the fear worse...but perhaps he was wrong?
Glorfindel studied the boy carefully for a long moment, before glancing away into the horizon again...did he not fear death? It was a good question, a sensible one, a question no one had dared ask him because everyone was too frightened to know of death. The funny thing was he did not really remember his death, he remembered life...
...He remembered the sun was hot on his bare back, and he had groaned quietly into the grainy sand.
It hurt…pain?
Pain seemed like a distant memory and yet, in this moment, it was all too brutally close...heat, and pain, and burning. He writhed in the memory until a clarity came to his thoughts. The unmistakable far off notes of a miraculous symphony. His heart stuttered in his chest...the memories...so vivid...so binding.
*****
He passed, through fire and shadow - his end had been mercifully quick. Then time fragmented into nothing but glittering light - like looking through crystal. He wondered then, if this was what happened when the flesh of ones body disintegrated leaving the spirit free to escape into the wind...a westward wind that would carry his fate.
The air tinkled around him, or through him, or was him - he was not sure which - and it sang like whispering chimes. The sound was peaceful and calming. In it he forgot much of what was, and he rested in its lullaby.
The light held him in repose for a time.
A time long, enough to let Arien rise and set upon the lost shadows of Gondolin. Long enough to allow Tilion to sail the skies turning the name of his home into a dream. A time for the trees of the world to grow tall, and new rivers to reshape the land. A time for elves to lessen and men to grow proud. He rested long, but time did not change him nor did it touch him until the appointed hour.
On that hour he was given his sight to see and his hearing to comprehend. Yet it was not as it was; such sight and hearing was not of him. He saw great things, lands he had never beheld, voices he could not understand. He saw Arda as it was now and as he remembered. He saw all that had come before and after he had dwelt there, but he also sensed a flavour of what could come, and his heart grieved for the people of the world he had called home.
When all this was through, the soft tinkling music grew greater so that it became a symphony of song made up of all the voices of life. The sound wrought him undone, for in it was a note he had never heard and it was the greatest chord that sang through all, bringing all together, and making all beautiful.
He was subject to the wishes of that one sound, recognising it above all others as the authority of all living things.
Eru Illuvatar.
The voice of the Father of all spoke to his spirit in its majestic note. The great voice of the One roused his spirit and made it strong, blessing him to rise up and go forth into Arda and do as he was commissioned...defend the innocent.
That was when he awoke, his spirit bound to flesh, his sight limited to the strength of his physical eyes, and his hearing confined to the echoes of his ears...but the tinkling music still sang in his spirit.
That was when he stood for the first time in his new form, and before him stood another.
"Then it is so," the voice of a being that appeared like a man but was not, spoke to him with a hint of awe. "Father's choices continue to surprise and confound me...Balrog slayer?”
"Manwë...He spoke of his affection for you." He heard his new voice, strong and bright, like wind chimes in the spring breeze. He paused, listening to the guidance of the music, "I am to trust you...you bring counsel.”
"Miraculous," Manwë breathed almost too himself as he approached the golden haired elf - a beautiful creature but a lesser creature all the same. "You hear our music?”
"Yes," he gave his answer simply, lowering his gaze before the Valar King. "But I am not part of it, I am only a spectator to my Creator's plans.”
"Nay child," the King spoke, his eyes like crystal flame and his aura growing in light as he appeared to draw closer. "You are part of it, you are no longer a mere elf, you have been Vivified by the Father and he has blessed you with a spirit of a servant...young maia.”
"Not Maiar," the once elf replied, his dimmed eyes straining into the horizon - the silhouette of a country rising in the distance. "Less than one but more than what I was...a messenger I am...to go before...He did not say to whom I would be before?”
"And that is why you have come to me," Manwë spoke, his glittering eyes filling with joy and love as he beheld the same horizon. "There are still those in that land that know you, who will be expecting you. You are to go forth and be a sign of the mercy and greatness of the One. Then they will trust you, and only you, when the others come.”
"What others? Those like me?”
"Nay, greater than you but not in heart," the Vala laughed and extended his arm to rest gently on the young one's shoulder, guiding him closer to the precipice where Eagles rested beneath their feet in rocky crags. "Your heart is deemed fit for a guardian, and guardians never cease in their purpose to defend the ignorant and the innocent. You will be the first to return but not the last, and you will protect as was always your purpose. You will bring comfort and trust, when the others come, those you serve will look to you for assurance...you will know who is of Eru and who is not...have you not been given the spirit to hear? Do you not trust the words of the One who roused you from among the reposed...do you doubt the very music that flows in you now?”
He paused for a moment and listened. The notes in his spirit made little sense until focused on, then he heard names and places. Unfamiliar sounding things but he trusted them, for their sound was love, and truth, and in those things is found power.
"I trust," he managed to say, his new spirit easily distracted in its awe of creation. "Though I am frightened...this world has changed...I have changed.”
"Fear is good," Manwë replied sombrely, turning the young being to face him. "Fear will keep you safe, it will keep you sharp, but do not let it consume you. You must go now, for your time has been appointed...Father permits it to be so.”
"But where will I go, who must I find...none will know me?"
The Lord of all the Valar laughed tenderly and embraced the youngling. He held him tight and whispered in his ear;
"Trust us...and if not us then the One who roused you. Go now, and do not fret, we will commune again soon...Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower.”
*****
He remembered nothing after those words were uttered, the only thing he knew next was life...he remembered awakening to a new life...and it was not easy!
Life was hard...harder than death….
*****
"Gl-or-fin-del?" His name sounded course on his thick and clumsy tongue, not the same clear voice from before. His arms moved clumsily against the wet sand, his chest heaving against the shock of needing air, and the drag of gravity on his body disorientated him.
His eyes saw nothing but blinding light, and he reached with his palm to shield them from the painful light. He squirmed and pulled until he bent his body to his will, making it sit up, making it hear and feel. Everything felt dimmed, everything was constrained and forced into limited senses, or at least it felt as much. His spirit had been free of the restrictions of flesh for too long, his senses had heightened and expanded beyond that of his kin...he was no more an elf than a man in this moment.
So, for several long minutes he perceived his new form.
Large hands with long fingers spread out before his eyes. He stretched and coiled them, laughing a little in wonderment at the strangeness of such a thing. Next he found his toes and wiggled them gleefully in the gloopy sand. He touched his face, Marvelling how his fingertips brushed over a strong jaw and high set cheek bones. Eventually he found the lengths of his hair and pawed the long strands into view. They were damp but still gleamed like molten gold - at least this was familiar. At last he finished his curiosity and became aware of the wonderment of the world about him.
The sea lapped just inches from his toes, the sun had risen in the horizon and it shone with such incredible vibrancy that he was momentarily awestruck. The musical notes intensified in this moment; joyful, praising, and triumphant. A new day was dawning and it was full of hope.
But there was more than the coastal beauty to be captivated by...there were voices...elven voices.
Glorfindel shakily inched his body towards the sound, but felt it tremble and shudder, a wave of exhaustion hitting him...he was weak?
The voices shouted to him, to each other, until at last his vision settled and he beheld three elves standing above him, each wearing expressions of concern and panic. He tried to speak but his tongue felt clumsy in his mouth, and at first his words were all but confused mumbles.
"Quick!" One spoke urgently, a female, and pointed to the other, "give me your cape...he must be frozen.”
That was when he became aware of his nakedness. He wore nothing but this new and restrictive skin, that felt tight and uncomfortable but not unbearable. In time he would relearn it, in time he would cherish it, but in the moment it was a burden. Part of him registered that he was indeed a male, and that this was indeed an extremely difficult situation to put an elleth in. For the first time he felt heat flood him, and his skin bloomed pink...he was embarrassed...and for a moment he was transfixed by the emotion. In the next heartbeat he made to shield himself, his unused lips and tongue proving difficult to command and nothing but a stuttered sound of an apology escaped him as the elleth knelt by him and draped the grey cape about his shoulders, smiling kindly as she did so.
"It is alright," she murmured in a wonderfully gentle tone, "I am no innocent maid, it is only flesh, no need to be ashamed my friend...come now...you have nothing to fear.”
The music in his spirit sang in unison with the elleth's, and he knew it was right to go with her. She and her companions would care for him, and from them he would find the being who was awaiting him...that was what the music told him anyway. He had to trust it, for right now it was all he could trust.
"Do you have a name?" Another asked, kneeling down by the female, his dark grey eyes shadowed with a concern that Glorfindel wished to tell him was unnecessary, but it was a struggle.
"Gla-umngh-" he scowled at his knees, his words were jumbled but his spirit was singing in languages beyond the comprehension of many...it was frustrating.
"Here, you must be parched," the ellon offered as he handed over a water skin, but Glorfindel's uncoordinated fingers struggled with the action, and so the ellon assisted in drubbing the water over his lips.
Water? He thought and a pleasurable moan escaped him. He was thirsty, terribly thirsty, and suddenly the soothing water felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. So he hungrily drained the skin, panting and gasping as the cold water caught his newly breathing lungs. He spluttered and shook his head...more sensations...it was beginning to feel overwhelming, but he had to focus, he had a purpose, the music reminded him.
"Gl-glor-f-f-fin-d-dell," he stammered, pleased that his tongue and lips felt freer. He blinked between the three companions, the third - another male - who stared back in vague recognition. Glorfindel breathed in deeply again, finding his new voice stronger; "M-my n-ame is Glorfindel.”
"Of Gondolin?" The third elf - with the dark features that reminded him of the Noldor - asked in shock.
"N-not any...anym-more," Glorfindel heaved a sigh, the Creator had told him to forget his old name, to let it die in the past, henceforth he was only Glorfindel. He patted his chest, feeling his new heart thump quietly under the surface of his new coverings; "I-I am only a servant...w-where is the Master of the tides...where is the k-keeper of the ha-havens?”
The three companions stared in bewilderment, before the elleth glanced to the ellon who knew the name of Glorfindel. The two shared a long and meaningful look, which Glorfindel ascertained as questioning his sanity - he gave a soft laugh - yes, his sanity was questionable.
"Lord Cirdan has been expecting a sign," the third ellon spoke slowly, his eyes sweeping over the golden haired elf being before him. The ellon considered that this one was not just elf, his fea burned with a fierce new light, and his eyes...his eyes seemed deep and wise...like the spirit within was as old as the world itself yet as young and fresh as spring. If this was not a sign, he did not know what was.
"L-Lord Cirdan, has been ex-expecting me," Glorfindel smiled encouragingly, holding his hand out for the ellon; "I-I...my legs...I do not t-trust this new skin...it f-fails me. M-may I beg your assis-ass-ta-“
"Assistance! Yes, yes of course my lord," the elleth sprang in, carefully ensuring the cape was secured and she had a supporting hand to his shoulder and arm.
"L-like a ch-ild," Glorfindel gave a chuckle and shook his head, pointing vaguely towards his lips then pressing a hand to the elleth's arm; "I...it...um...w-words will g-get bet-ter...n-need p-p-p…something."
"Practice? Yes, practice will help," the elleth smiled and Glorfindel laughed heartily, he really did sound ridiculous but there was little need in worrying or getting upset. This body was new and strange, even bodily functions seemed bizarre and confusing - he would have much to reacquaint himself with but at least he had time.
"Can you walk?" The second elf asked, and Glorfindel pursed his lips in consideration for a moment, before a slow but deliberate smirk spread across his lips.
"N-not l-likely," he said then gave a little shrug, "b-but may-maybe I c-can...eh..." He swayed a little to show his meaning, "wh-what is the w-word...St...stagger! Maybe I could stagger...l-like a Dr-drunk...that would be amu-amusing f-for Cirdan.”
"You are surprisingly positive for one so restricted," the third elf chuckled as he assisted the elleth to help Glorfindel to his feet.
"Alive!" Glorfindel cried with purposeful delight, making the three companions start, which in turned made Glorfindel laugh all the more; "I am alive...th-there is much t-to be joyful for...come m-my new f-friends...I h-have much to learn.”
*****
Estel watched the elf before him with concern mingled with bemusement...he had not expected his question to be so taxing? He was also abruptly worried that Glorfindel had fallen asleep, because it was very hard to tell with elves, and the child debated poking him a few times just to be sure. Leaning forward, the boy curiously attempted to lock eyes with the elf's seemingly vacant ones, giving a little cough in an attempt to gain his host's attention.
Glorfindel blinked and twisted his head to the small person beside him. Smiling, he pondered Estel. The boy was small but sturdy, dark curly hair framing a handsome young face, and startling eyes that were not often seen in his mortal kin. Hope they called him, and he was quite little to embody all the hope of men, but somehow the little fellow did indeed bring him hope. Turning his head out to the horizon, Glorfindel sighed and answered the child's burning question.
"I do not fear death, but I also fear life," he said plainly, and they boy pulled a face in confusion - that was not the answer he expected. Glorfindel laughed and placed a gentle hand on his small shoulders. "There are things to fear in both, but wonderment also. Death is just another passage of time, just as life is, they are a balance and one does not exist without the other. We all must face the hardships of life, and we all must face the loneliness of death, but do you know what we have to combat those fears?" Glorfindel asked Estel with the hint of a wise old smile on the corners of his lips.
The boy shook his head, and Glorfindel placed a finger under his chin tilting his gaze to meet the elf's own. The elf's eyes swam with a depth the child had not seen before, and he was transfixed, awaiting the answer that would steal his fear away. What weapon could he use to defeat all his fears? The elf's eyes crinkled at their corners, amusement evident in his features, but when he spoke his voice was kind and full of wisdom. So much so that the child believed it.
"Hope," he said, "fear cannot live in the heart that has hope."