AN: I have no idea who Glorfindel’s parents are, so I just picked a name randomly. If you know, correct me. Thanks. Now R&R please!
And remember, this is set BEFORE the Stranger.
The soft resonance of the sea played in the background as a young dark haired man watched another older one pack. A necklace fell from the older’s collar and the younger dared to speak
“ Father, what does the necklace mean that you wear it always? You never speak of it,” Elrond, the Half-Elven asked his father.
Eärendil sighed as he stopped his packing. He picked it from his chest, gazing at it and remembering all his father had told him.
“ It is the mark of the house of the Golden Flower. Tis a reminder of what someone did so I could be alive and free at this moment,” Eärendil glanced up at his tall, bright-eyed son.
Deep within in son’s gray eyes lurked something, something beyond his serious nature, opposed to his younger brother’s sunny one. Eärendil could almost picture his son as a wise one residing over an Elvish or Númenor stronghold. Then Eärendil’s eyes shadowed. He would not be there to see if it came true. A word whispered in his ear told him his son would see more evil than any.
“ Here, you may have it,” Eärendil slid it off, his neck strangely bare without it, “ As a remembrance of freedom and your father.”
Elrond reverently slid it around his own neck, following his father outside of the beachside home.
“ Now, keep Elros in line and try not to worry your mother while I am away,” Eärendil stepped towards his ship, “ And I do believe Gil-galad will be coming to watch you 2. Mind him.”
Elrond nodded as his brother, Elros and mother, Elwing joined them. The 3 watched their father’s ship sail away into the setting sun. Neither Elrond nor Elros saw their father again until they passed from Middle-Earth themselves.
Light sheathed the room around his suddenly. Glorfindel rubbed his eyes, scrambling to his feet. He beheld his own body dressed in white garments and scanned the beauty beyond any’s imagination that surrounded him.
“ So you have finally joined me, Glorfindel, son of Glingal,” the black robed man turned.
Glorfindel’s mouth melted together and his tongue lay dumb under the fiery gaze of the judge, Mandos. It finally came unglued and he bowed. The long silence unnerved him as the Vala simply surveyed him as he paced.
“ Are you not to judge me, my lord?”
Mandos stilled his steps.
Glorfindel’s eyes muddled with confusion. Why was he here then? Wasn’t he to be judged at Manwë’s bidding?
“ Come, Glorfindel. Follow me,” Mandos bid.
Down the almost pearly halls they walked and Glorfindel’s eyes misted at the souls who cried for mercy from the darkness, hearing their footsteps. His eyes traveled to 3 women at the end of the hall.
“ Tis Vairë, Nienna and the daughter of Varda. Turn your eyes, lest your fate be dealt different by Manwë for gazing upon his precious jewel,” Mandos warned.
Glorfindel obediently turned his eyes away to the floor, not daring a glimpse up for fear of the Vala’s wrath. The warm feeling of pure light, which is a sensation that cannot really be put into words other than warm, grazed his hand and shoulder as the gentle caress of a hand healed his sorrow. He could feel eyes upon him and wished to look back, but a glimpse up at Mandos’ shaking head made him forget his wish. Mandos opened a door to reveal the webs of time.
“ Come, we have much to speak of, but here, you will see only what I bid, for it is not an Eldar’s place to know the future.”
“ My lord, what bothers you?” a slightly older, solemner Elrond spoke from his place at a table.
One arm of the king’s rested above the window, while the other held onto the side frame, letting his head rest against the glass. The king had been like that for the last hour. Gil-galad sighed as he turned.
“ Sauron. He seems harmless enough, but I just cannot believe him. Something tells me he will be the death of me,” Gil-galad said with a short laugh.
The king caught Elrond’s sudden straightening and worry. He knew the other Elf did not like his dismissive talk of death.
“ What are you saying?” Elrond’s already dark eyes were almost black.
“ Sauron may come with his honey coated words, but I believe he schemes something larger than any of us could imagine.”
Gil-galad’s eyes darted around, leaning in closer to finish.
“ And I swear I will not let another dark lord try to take over the free peoples, not while I’m alive,” Gil-galad caught Elrond’s slight movement to finger the chain and the king’s eyes misted. He remembered the chief of the house of the Golden flower, having lived in Gondolin for a time.
“ Sauron would not dare,” Elrond began.
“ He will. I pray daily every moment I get to Manwë to send us someone, just one person, of strong valor and courage; someone who will readily help us when the time of fighting comes and someone that will watch over you when I am gone. I need someone to watch my heir, whom I expect to pick up where I left off, should I leave for the halls of Mandos.”
Elrond bit his lip.
“ But-” he began.
“ Master Elrond,” a beautiful dark haired woman appeared.
Gil-galad chuckled as he caught Elrond’s look of anguish as the woman chattered on.
“ M’lady, we are in the middle of an important talk. Surely you can wait until later,” Gil-galad gently led her towards the door and closed it behind him.
“ She’s stalking me, Gil-galad. I cannot go anywhere,” Elrond groaned, slouching in his seat.
“ Seems like I will need someone to keep the maidens from latching their arms onto you also,” Gil-galad chuckled
He then ducked a crumpled piece of paper thrown by a slightly irritated Elrond.
“So Sauron will rise against Middle-Earth. I see not why you tell me this,” Glorfindel said as they exited the rooms of Vairë’s webs.
“ Because you will not be judged at this time, Glorfindel. Manwë set your fate long ago according to Eru’s words. You alone of the Elves will return to Middle-Earth after seeing this land. I warn thee, tell no one save the high-king and the one you serve under, who is a son of Eärendil, you are returned from Mandos’ halls,” Mandos warned.
“ You have my word, my lord,” Glorfindel replied.
The next thing he knew was the cold feel of water.
Círdan stroked his beard as he surveyed the ship he worked on.
“ I see not his love for ships,” Elrond sighed softly, sitting a ways away with Gil-galad.
“ Tis the same as he does not see your love for lore and books. He builds them so we may leave, and you read so you may know. You can learn much from him,” Gil-galad replied.
“ He bores me with his talks of ships and such,” Elrond shrugged.
A mischievous glint lit Gil-galad’s eyes, but he hid it away.
Círdan stepped back from the wood to survey the Sea and his eyes widened.
“ Gil-galad, come here,” Círdan called urgently to the king sitting leisurely on the sand.
The high king’s eyes shadowed as he approached the washed up Elf cautiously. Elrond approached, standing a little closer than Círdan incase anything happened. For once, they were the only 3 on the beach.
“ He is alive,” Gil-galad announced, “ Maybe you can help him, Elrond. I am no healer.”
The young Elf bent beside the other, grinning at Gil-galad and simply shook the one on the ground.
“ Does not take a healer to wake one who is asleep,” Elrond said, trying to hold back his laughter.
Gil-galad rolled his eyes and then shook the Elf also.
Glorfindel felt someone shaking him. He grimaced at the sandy grit in his mouth and the cold wetness of his whole being. If this was Mandos’ thought of being better than judgment, he believed he would have rather joined Melkor in the Void that is Without. Along with the chilly wetness, every bone he had probably broken when he had fallen into the abyss long ago, ached with a pain that could not be quenched. He slowly lifted his face upward.
“ No,” Gil-galad’s face had paled to a ghost white.
The mysterious gold haired Elf slowly and almost painfully sat up.
“ Ereinion?” the man asked, using Gil-galad’s real name.
“ You are alive? They told me you died. I even saw the grave,” Gil-galad replied incredulously.
“ I must speak to you alone and at once,” Glorfindel’s eyes fell to the obvious blood relative of Eärendil, “ Where did thee find the necklace?”
“ Twas my father, Eärendil’s. He says it is a reminder of freedom and valor,” the dark haired Elf replied.
“ And he is right,” Gil-galad said with a smile, “ Stay here with Círdan for awhile, Elrond. See what you can LEARN from him.”
Elrond rolled his eyes and then straightened, sensing Círdan’s piercing gaze.
“ So let me get this straight. You did die in Gondolin, but Manwë permitted you to return here?” Gil-galad’s doubtful tone surprised Glorfindel.
“ Sauron will rise and the Elves have already begun to leave these shores. I know I am only one, but you asked for only one. Why I was sent when someone stronger or mightier could have been dumbfounds me, but I am not one to argue with they who see beyond time,” Glorfindel said, “ Trust me again. Like you did before Fingolfin died and you were sent away.”
Gil-galad’s mind turned back to his earlier days when he had not had the matters or worries to bear as he did now.
“ Ok, then, I believe you,” Gil-galad sighed, “ I will call a council of all the leaders of the Elves and present them with news of your arrival.”
“ No you shall not.”
Gil-galad stared, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“ And why not?”
Gil-galad crossed his strong arms forebodingly, but after one has seen the might of the Vala, nothing and no one ever seem as powerful.
“ You are not to say a word of my return. I am merely Glorfindel, an Elf-lord, newly arrived. No one is to know that I am the same of Gondolin,” Glorfindel answered.
Elrond grimaced when the floor creaked loudly under his weight when he moved in surprise. This washed up survivor was the man his father had worshiped almost as a god? In a second, Gil-galad had him by his ear, cutting off any revelation he might have been about to have. The old habit of punishment was still used on Elrond, even though he was too old to really practice it on.
“ And what have I told you of spying, eh, Elrond? I know you heard me every time I gave this lecture to Elros and I know I really do not need to repeat it,” Gil-galad demanded.
“ Tis not the way of an Elf-lord,” Elrond mumbled, rubbing his sore ear.
The ear pinching still hurt centuries after Gil-galad had begun disciplining him in the Elvish ways.
“ Tis not the way of an Elf-lord,” Elrond repeated louder with a sigh.
“ What all did you hear?” the one called Glorfindel asked.
“ Just about everything, sir. I am sorry for eavesdropping,” Elrond’s eyes brightened in excitement, something he rarely exhibited, “So you are the one and same Glorfindel that-”
Gil-galad closed the door, causing Elrond to pause.
“ That slew the Balrog? The one the Song of the Beloved is written about? The one my father says saved them.”
“ I feel as if I have plenty to live up to,” Glorfindel laughed, “ I had no idea the story would be passed on. And to answer you, Elrond, I am that Glorfindel. I am actually glad you overheard this conversation, though you should not have been listening in. I was to tell Eärendil’s son also of my identity, but neither of you 2 are to tell a soul.”
“ Then this is yours also,” Elrond reluctantly took off his necklace and held it out.
Glorfindel closed the Elf’s hand back over the necklace.
“ Keep it. It is dear to you and I have no desire for I back. It is yours,” Glorfindel replied.
Gil-galad sighed in relief, knowing how much the necklace meant to Elrond. Elrond grinned as he put it back on. Glorfindel felt a small smile overcome his face also and there, once again, the friendship between one of the House of the Golden Flower and one of Lúthien the fair’s begat.