The Flower and The Fountain

At Your Acquaintance
Summary: Long before being renowned as the captains of the hidden city of Gondolin, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were children once. how how did they meet in the first place? (Valinor, during the Years of the Trees)

Nothing could compare to the lands of Valinor. Its beauty was radiant and everlasting; it was tranquil, peaceful and timeless. The light of the Western Shores was gentle, tender like a mother’s touch, warm and pleasing. The Elves that had traveled there from Middle-earth marveled at the majesty of the powers that had created such a place. The wonders they found were endless, boundless; few words could adequately describe what they saw and experienced. Many, however, often missed the lands of Middle-earth of which they tarried little before being called by the Valar. But it was the children who had been born on the shores of Valinor that craved the sight of Middle-earth all the more. For these children could only see the far-off land through the eyes and tales of their parents.

One such child, Glorfindel, desired to see such a place, even at his young age. He had barely reached his twentieth year, and was still long form his majority, but he had the early makings and traits of someone who would do great deeds before he left the world. He was fair and tall, like most Elves, his hair golden, signifying the Vanyar blood that mingled in his veins with his Noldorin origins. Glorfindel was named for his brilliant mane, which he often kept in a somewhat messy plait down his back; strands would stray now and again into the view of his clear azure eyes. He was a curious child, often straying from his parents’ sides to explore other parts of Valinor, and the elves that dwelt there. Glorfindel had few companions his age, but he didn’t seem too bothered by the fact. He was precarious and a bit wild; few other elflings could even keep up with him.

So, it came that Glorfindel strayed far from the elvish dwellings settled in Manwë’s lands to that of the lake of Lórien, where he knew some Elves dwelt though he had not met many there before. The stretch of land between the two Valar realms was great, but, for an Elf, the distance was not vast. Besides, the young elfling relished the feel of the wind streaming through his hair as he ran. Glorfindel had been fascinated with the vast stretch of water upon his first gaze as he had not yet seen the sea. He would often imagine Lórien’s lake as the ocean that separated him from the view of Mi-ear-earth far off the horizon; though it was permitted, he had not yet dared to venture a swim within the cool waters, he0hhe had seen others do so.

Glorfindel had expected to be alone when he reached the lake. Many often visited the area, but usually not at the same moment. Each time he had been there previously, Glorfindel had been the only Elf in the vicinity. He expected the same today; instead, he found another Elf by the water’s edge. The Elf was as tall as he, but possessed dark hair and silvery gray-blue eyes. The hair was loose and rippled in the faint wind that blew, swirling like waves around curving shoulders. Glorfindel found himself itching to touch the silky mane that seemed to capture the light, and refusing to relinquish it. The Elf’s lean form rested near the lake, one bared leg dangling into the cool liquid up to tnee;nee; the other rested on the ground, bent at the knee to support one elbow.

The other Elf didn’t seem to notice Glorfindel, immersed as he was in playing a silver reed-shaped flute. The melody was gentle and soothiGlorGlorfindel found himself closing his eyes as he drowned in the song. The music spoke of lands unseen, lands calling, begging to be visited. It told of lost places uninhabited for ages, and of Elves returning to their birthplaces in far distant times. It spoke of a wish, a desire to see such lands with one‘s own eyes. Glorfindel slowly began to realize that the song reflected the wishes of his heart and his desire to see Middle-earth, which he had heard so much about.

Gently, the music began to fade away. Glorfindel seemed unaware of the fact for some while; he became alerted to the silence as someone cleared their throat. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and found himself gazing into the glittering orbs of the other Elf, who gave him a warm smile. He returned the smile with one of his own, suddenly feeling a little shy in the other’s presence. The Elf beckoned him over; Glorfindel complied, settling down on the soft grass of the lake side. The ends of his long hair just brushed the water’s edge as he glanced down at his reflection, the braid long undone during his run.

“What is your name?” the Elf asked. His voice was gentle and kind, much like his music.

Glorfindel glanced up at the speaker briefly before replying. “Glorfindel,” he simply said.

The Elf smiled upon hearing him speak. Golden-haired. It suits you. I am Ecthelion. Elen sila lumenn omentilmo, Glorfindel.”

“’Tis a pleasure.”

Ecthelion smiled at his new companion. The Elf sitting next to him couldn’t have been more than ten years younger that he. Glorfindel’s hair was a rich, golden color, which, Ecthelion concluded meant he possessed some Vanyar blood. It seemed to Ecthelion that Glorfindel was rather shy in his presence, though he could not begin to imagine why. He decided to strike up a conversation with Glorfindel in an effort to calm the other.

“Where do you come from, mellon-nîn?” he asked. “I have not seen you at Lord Lórien’s lake before this day.”

“I have been here before,” Glorfindel replied, dipping a finger into the crystal clear water and swirling it about a bit. “I like to visit this lake; it is always quiet and peaceful. I live in Lord Manwë’s land, in that direction.” He pointed in the direction he had come from.

Ecthelion followed the path of Glorfindel‘s finger before turning back to the other Elf. “’Tis far to travel from Lord Manwë‘s land to Lord Lórien‘s. And, yet you make the trip alone.”

Glorfindel merely shrugged at the other‘s statement. “It is not so far, and it does not take long to travel the distance. I like to make the journey. The wind feels delightful when I run.”

Ecthelion knew the exhilaration that one could achieve from running, though he himself preferred the feel of cool water against warm skin. This golden-haired Elf was beginning to intrigue him; Ecthelion decided to press a few more questions. “Do you not have any siblings, Glorfindel? Parents?”

“I have parents, but no siblings. And you?”

“I have parents, and one brother, Astaldion.”

The idea of having siblings seemed to intrigue Glorfindel. He turned to his companion, his eyes full of questions. “What is he like? Your brother, I mean.”

Ecthelion thought for a moment, lookcontcontemplative as he tried to phrase his next words properly. “He has already passed his majority. Astaldion is valiant, like his name. And, he’s very kind. He takes care of the other elflings and I without complaint or protests. He rather enjoys being caretaker, I believe. Ada is proud of him.”

“He is not proud of you?”

“He is. We are different children, my brother and I. Ada is proud of us both, I believe. You do not have siblings, Glorfindel?” A shake of the head was his answer. “Do you not wish you had a brother or sister?”

“Sometimes. But, it does not bother me too much. Although I am curious as to what it is like living with another close to my age.”

“I see.”

Glorfindel was beginning to find his new companion rather fascinating during their exchange. Ecthelion seemed different from all the other Elves Glorfindel had met thus far. His young mind couldn’t come up with a reason why, but Ecthelion seemed to blend fierceness and determination with a gentle manner and heart. It helped that the dark-haired Elf was close to Glorfindel’s age and of the same mindset. He tilted his golden crown slightly as he began to study his companion more closely.

Ecthelion, likewise, sat in silence observing the other. Glorfindel was a curious child, aery ery observant, he noted, as the blond Elf’s eyes took in all of Ecthelion’s form. It was not unheard of for Elves to travel from Manwë’s land to Lórien‘s, but here was one so young, and without the company of his family. Ecthelion deduced that Glorfindel had wandered off on his own; he was expecting his companion’s parents to come seeking him out soon.

“What song were you playing?” Glorfindel asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “I have never heard it before. Nana sings of many songs, and I have heard more from others. But, I have never heard the song which you have played.”

“That does not surprise me, meldir. It is a song I created. Does it remind you of something?”

Glorfindel nodded. “It reminded me of the stories my parents tell of the land called Middle-earth.”

Ecthelion seemed satisfied with the answer. “Ah, so you have heard such stories as well. I am pleased, then, that my song was so successful in its purpose.”

“ pur purpose was that?”

“To remind and console those who left that land so long ago, and to warm the hearts of those who have not yet visited such lands.” Ecthelion smiled warmly, moving his leg ever so slightly to create small ripples on the water’s surface. “I have long desired to visit Middle-earth. I have dreamt of walking the lands, dancing and racing among the trees Lady Yavanna shaped there. I have wished to lie beneath the stars set in the sky by Lady Varda and count them long into the night. I do not know if I ever shall see Middle-earth, but I greatly desire to do so one day.”

The young blond nodded. He knew exactly how Ecthelion felt, for he too harbored such wants and desires. He loved Valinor, but Glorfindel also wanted to see the land upon which his parents had awakened many years ago. “Do you not like Valinor?” he ventured to ask Ecthelion.

Ecthelion gave him a warm smile before replying. “I do. It is a beautiful land, and the Valar are all kind and just in their ways. This land is suited to us Elves, who love the stars and trees, open air and vast spaces. But it is natural to have a desire to seek lands and places one has heard so much about. We all feel the need to return to places we have been, reunite with old friends and meet new ones. It is our way, the way of life.”

Throughout the narration, Glorfindel listened with an attentive ear. Ecthelion seemed wise beyond his years, or he was merely thoughtful and considered his words carefully before speaking them aloud. Whichever was the case, it was evident that the Elves’ trains of thought flowed in a similar direction.

“Tell me something, Glorfindel.” Ecthelion’s musical voice broke Glorfindel out of the reverie he had slipped into. “Do you have many friends?”

“Friends? Not particularly.”

“Why is that?”

Glorfindel shrugged. There were not specific reasons why he possessed so few friends. There were few people who could fully understand what Glorfindel thought and felt. He was often cherished and respected, both as a child and as someone who possessed some Vanyar blood. “No one can keep up with me,” he finally answered simply.

Ecthelion arched a delicately shaped eyebrow. “No one can keep up with you?”

Glorfindel nodded. He didn’t protest as Ecthelion urged him closer. Long, slim fingers dived into Glorfindel’s gold mane, combing out tangles before re-braiding the tresses.

“Ada says I’m too active, even more an Elf,” he said quietly. “I always want to go off and explore, run through theds. ds. He has scolded me for leaving without permission.” The young Elf thought on the matter a little longer before shrugging. “I think, though, it is because most Elves my age cannot associate with how I feel.”

“How do you feel, meldir?” Glorfindel sighed deeply; Ecthelion waited for him to continue whilst he continued to smooth out Glorfindel’s hair.

“I want to see Middle-earth,” the golden-haired Elf finally stated. “I want to see the beauty my parents remember. It is where we Elves are really supposed to live, isn’t it? Our parents awoke up there. It was created for us to live on. Lord Manwë has always said that the land was created and made for Iluvutar’s children. We are his children, so why do we not reside there?”

“There are many things that occur in this world that is beyond our control.” Ecthelion finished with Glorfindel’s hair, allowing the other to turn and fix him with piercing blue eyes. “Our fate is ultimately left up to Iluvutar and the Valar. The paths we walk to that fate are our own. We make our own choices, and must live by the consequences.
“Our parents chose to heed the calling of the Valar and come live in Valinor. Maybe, one day, another force will call us, the children, back to the lands that were meant for us to cultivate. Have faith and patience, Glorfindel. We have all the time in the world.”

A small smile began to spread across Glorfindel’s face. The questions that had been eating at him, questions that belied his desires, were answered now. He felt calmer, more serene. He thanked Ecthelion for that.

“Glorfindel!” Off in the distance stood a tall Elf, calling to the blond.

“Ada has come for me,” Glorfindel said, rising to his feet and dusting the grass blades from his knees. He turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face Ecthelion with questioning eyes. “Will I see you again?”

“Of course,” Ecthelion replied with a smile. “Are we not friends?” Blue eyes widened at the question before a golden head bobbed enthusiastically in the affirmative. “Then we shall meet again. I expect we shall see each other many more times in the days to come.” The thought seemed to please Glorfindel as his eyes began to brighten at the prospect. Ecthelion smiled up at him. “Until next we meet, mellon-nîn.”

“Until then, Ecthelion.” With another happy smile, Glorfindel dashed off. He raced quickly up to his father, giving his parent an affectionate squeeze about the waist.

“Who was that?” his father asked as they began the journey back towards Manwë’s lands.

“A friend,” Glorfindel stately happily.

“You’ve made a friend? That is good. What is his name?”

“Ecthelion.” He smiled again as Glorfindel heard Ecthelion playing his flute in the distance. He hoped to spend many more days in conversation with his new friend. Fate has an uncanny knack for granting such heartfelt wishes.

TBC...