The Flower and The Fountain

Awakening and Return
Summary: A second childhood relieved, but the beginning of his years are filled with a sadness he doesn’t understand. Soon, however, the memories return and Glorfindel learns just what is missing in his new life. Yet he must bid farewell to his parents again as he goes to Elrond‘s aid, but leaves a heartfelt message behind.

“He seems untouched by time, as if everything that has happened to him never occurred. He is so innocent.”

Glorion smiled faintly, listening to his wife as his emerald gaze rested upon his son. He thanked the Valar for returning Glorfindel to him and Estelien; the parents had been a little more than distraught when they had learned their son had perished. Knowing that he died valiantly protecting the people he loved could not lessen their heartache. It would take them years to heal, and when they finally had, they had been blessed with the news of a coming child; the only thing that made their happiness boundless was the knowledge that it was their son, their Glorfindel, to whom Estelien would give birth to again.

“He is beautiful, is he not?” Estelien whispered, tuckinr rar raven crown beneath her husband’s chin, idly playing with a strand of his spun gold hair, the hair Glorfindel had inherited. Their child, twice born into the world, was cheerfully splashing in the lake of the Vala Lórien. The parents had debated ontherther or not to bring their twenty-year-old son to the lake he had been so fond of in his previous life, the lake where he had first met his former lover, not wanting to trigger the beginning of some unpleasant memories. He was still young, and the memories of his former life still repressed. In the end they had decided it was best to go and had set off; if Glorfindel was to remembering--as he was one day--they could do nothing to prevent the event.

“Aye, he is,” Glorion replied, bestowing a tender kiss upon his wife’s brow. “He is much like he was, and yet different all the same. Time in the Halls has changed him; for better or for worse I cannot say.”

“He is still our son. Whether he is changed or not, he will always be Glorfindel to me. I will always love him.”

Glorion merely smiled, ing ing his wife close as they watched the fair-haired elfling dance about the lake’s edge.

Glorfindel had been looking forward to this day, the day his parents had promised him they would go exploring the lands outside of the white walls of Tirion. He had often wanted to visit the fields and lake of Lórien though he never fully understood why. Rúmil had told him much of the land, and Glorfindel had listened to the scholar in rapt fascination. But he wanted to see more than he wanted to hear, and had begged his parents to let him come. With Rúmil’s encouragement, Glorion and Estelien had relented.

It was known through all of Tirion that the loremaster was quite fond of the golden-haired child, and would often spend days at a time with Glorfindel. Likewise, the elfling found himself drawn to Rúmil’s presence, though he was unable to determine why and others were unwilling to tell him what had transpired between them previously. Rúmil himself kept quiet upon the matter, evading Glorfindel’s questions. The child had let the matter drop after a time, though his curiosity was no less piqued.

It was not new knowledge to Glorfindel that he was a Twice Born, an Elda given a second chance at life by the Valar. He had known all his life that he had lived once before, that this was the second time Estelien had given birth to him. He knew well that the realm of Lórien was something that had meaning to him during his previous life, but none of his memories had resurfaced thus far; he could not say why he was drawn to that portion of the land of Valinor, but he knew he was. He wanted to see the clear blue waters, feel their coolness with his own frs. rs. He wanted to be there--needed to be there.

“I almost wish,” Estelien whispered, “that he will never remember what happened. I do not want him to be plagued by the past, by his death.”

“But he will never remember the love he once had,” Glorion countered.

“All the more why he should not remember…not yet.” Estelien shifted until she was gazing into her husband’s green eyes, her own holding back the beginnings of tears as she clasped Glorion’s hands. “It was a great love, yes, and I want him to remember it. But the pain of losing Ecthelion…the pain of never seeing him again…I do not want him to experience that. He does not deserve that.”

“Estelien…” A splash interrupted Glorion’s words. Both parents turned to find their son laying prone upon his abdomen, arms buried into the water and mud of the lake up to the elbows, tongue sticking out between his lips as Glorfindel was want to do when concentrating. “Glorfindel,” Glo cal called with a sigh whilst rising and making his way over to his son after releasing his wife. “What are you doing, pen-neth?”

“I saw something in the water,” Glorfindel said, his hands fumbling in the mud.

“What did you see?” Estelien asked as she joined her husband and child.

“Something blue. It was shining in the sun. Ah!” With a smile, Glorfindel pulled his muddy hands from the lake, the water washing away some of the grime. Opening his hands, the child and his parents gazed upon a pendant of the clearest blue nestled within the remaining mud. A thin silver chain, the links snapped at one spot, glimmered in the sunlight. Glorfindel stared at the pendant as if in a trance as Glorion took hold of the delicate jewelry and washed the remaining mud away.

“Is that…” Estelien whispered into her husband’s ear, not wished Glorfindel to overhear and inquire.

“Aye, I believe it is.”

“What is it?” Glorfindel asked unexpectedly, his eyes never leaving the blue jewel that dangled from the chain.

“It is a necklace, a lovely one,” Glorion explained, managing to hide tremoremor in his voice.

“It’s so beautiful. Do you think someone has lost it, Ada?”

“I believe so.” There was nothing he could do; the Valar have fated this would happen, and Glorion could not go against their will. Taking Glorfindel’s hand--now clean--into his own, the father placed the pendant in his son’s hand before curling the slender fingers about it. “It is yours now, Glorfindel.”

“But Ada! I cannot keep this! Someone must have lost it; surely they will come back looking for it? This is not mine to keep.”

Estelien listened to the exchange, watching both her beloved and her son. She, like Glorion, had reached the same conclusion as to the sudden reappearance of Ecthelion’s pendant. The Valar had deemed this incident to happen, which only meant one thing: very soon Glorfindel would begin to remember.

“Aier,” Estelien said as she knelt next to her son. “No one will come looking for this pendant.”

“But why, Nana?” He turned from his father to his mother, his eyes demanding an explanation. Glorfindel knew someone was looking for this pendant, and yet, at the same time, he was reluctant to let it go.

“Because, it has found it’s owner.”

“Me? I don’t understand.” That was impossible! He could never remember owning such a beautiful pendant. Then, why did he not want to let it go?

“You will in time, Glorfindel,” Glorion soothed.

“Why not now?”

not not rush time; you will learn the truth soon enough. And now we should be returning for it is getting late.”

Obediently Glorfindel nodded and followed his parents as tholleollected their things before heading back to the city. He glanced back once at Lórien’s lake, the surface of the waters rippling as a breeze swept by. /What is it I will learn?/

~~~~~~~~~~

Screams and shouts everywhere…everywhere. There was the voices of men calling to their soldiers above the clanging of swords, spears and axes. The roars of the dark hoard was heard above the din of the fires that burned the city, marring the once pearly white walls. Women and children fled before the men, attempting to escape whilst the warriors defended the city. Harp strings were plucked followed by the sounds of flutes and booted feet marching into the battle.

It was all around him, the chaos. He didn’t know where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. It dimly registered in his mind that he was wearing golden armor, a sword held tightly in his right hand. The sounds of flutes--no, a single flute--echoed in his ears. Turning, he spied a lone figure clad in silver armor; long raven hair spilled over the slender shoulders, and the arms were raised as lean fingers expertly played a silver flute, blood flowing down the pale limbs from numerous wounds.

“Who…” Flames engulfed him then, and the sounds of the music died away to be replaced by the whistling of the wind. Down he fell, though how and where he had fallen he did not know. Down, down, down. For a brief moment he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again the sky was gone and there was nothing but water surrounding him. He couldn’t breathe! He reached for the surface but his attempt was in vain as he sunk farther into the watery depths…

~~~~~~~~~~

With a gasp and a sharp yelp Glorfindel awoke. His eyes focused instantly as he lay motionless in bed, cold sweat covering his skin. It was still night, some time before morning would come. His breathing was rapid, his heart pounded in his chest and the pulse thundered in his ears. Was it all just a dream? But it felt so real! It felt as if it really happened. Had it happened? It had to!

“Glorfindel! Glorfindel!”

“Ada?” Before Glorfindel could utter another word, Glorion had already opened the door and moved to his son’s bedside. He was closely followed by Estelien, both clad in hastily drawn garments, worry etched upon their faces.

“Aier, are you all right?” Estelien asked as she laid a gentle hand upon her son’s brow, wiping away the film of sweat that had collected upon the pale skin.

“I…” He found it difficult to answer them, the words unable to issue forth. With a sigh, Glorfindel closed his eyes and moved closer to his mother’s warmth, allowing her to wrap him in a tight embrace.

“You had another nightmare,” Glorion surmised. “What did you see?”

“I saw…” In truth Glorfindel didn’t want to remember. A nightmare? No. It wasn’t merely a nightmare he had seen but memories of his past life; he understood that now. No one had ever told him about the person he had been before, yet nightmares plagued him all the same. When sleep claimed him, dreams of his old life would come, haunting him. “I saw a city burning. People were running and screaming all around me. Some were fighting against terrible beings. And always, always there was the sound of a flute being played. I…I saw who was playing.”

“What did they look like?”

“Long dark hair, and he wore silver armor; I never saw his face. I tried to move closer, but then I fell and I kept falling until…I must have hit water because that’s all I saw afterwards. I couldn’t breathe, I was drowning. And then…then I woke.” Glorfindel looked at both of his parents when neither answered him; he found both Glorion and Estelien deep in thought as they gazed at one another, silently communicating. “You know who it is I saw.”

“We do,” Glorion answered slowly, carefully avoiding his son‘s gaze.

“Tell me!” Glorfindel moved out of his mother’s arms as he reached for his father, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Glorion’s arms tightly. “Ada, tell me! Who was it I saw? I felt as if I knew him. Who is he?!”

“He is someone from your past, someone very important. Someone who was very dear to you. I cannot tell you more.”

“Why?!”

“You will learn the truth in time.”

“But…”

“Listen to your father, Glorfindel,” Estelien said gently as she laid a hand upon her son’s shoulder. “It is best if you do not know now; you are not yet ready to remember what transpired during your previous life. Do not let it worry you so.”

Their evasive answers frustrated Glorfindel, but he did not protest as Estelien helped him to lay back down upon the bed before singing him a lullaby. He didn’t want to sleep again but his mother’s soothing voice was calling slumber back; slowly the azure eyes grew unfocused as the realm of dreams visited the Twice Born again.

Glorion looked on, his face unreadable as he watched Estelien place a gentle kiss upon their son’s brow. /You are aged for someone so young, Glorfindel; you are indeed the same as the person you once were. I wish I could tell you about Ecthelion, but it is too soon. You are not yet ready to remember your lost lover. You will remember in time, and when that time comes you must deal with the loss all over again. I pray that when the time comes, we will not lose you to grief./

~~~~~~~~~~

Days passed and soon the dream that plagued Glorfindel began to fade, but it did not go away. Each night revealed a new dream though the elements were much the same. He was always in the White City, there were always the same people, the same faces that smiled and the same voices that laughed. And always, always, there was the sound of a flute being played and the same dark-haired Elf playing it. No matter how much he tried, Glorfindel was never able to see their face, never able to remember who they were.

Days turned into years, and soon thirty years had passed. The day of his majority was approaching and, though Glorfindel could not understand why, all of Tirion was in preparation for his coming-of-age. Rúmil had announced that he would not miss the day for any reason, and Glorion had mentioned that Eärendil would attend before his nightly voyage was to begin.

Eärendil…the name was so familiar. Though he had never met the mariner, Glorfindel felt as if he knew him, and knew him well. He was Idril’s son, and Idril was Glorfindel’s kinswoman; this he knew though he had never met the son, nor the father whom was spoken so highly of. Both Tuor and Eärendil were well-known to him in stories of their deeds and accomplishment. But there was always the feeling within Glorfindel that he knew them on a more intimate level.

“Aier?” Estelien carefully knocked upon her son’s door before entering. The candles were unlit, the room darkening as the sun set and the stars began to shine. She smiled when she spied Glorfindel perched precariously upon his window ledge, his azure eyes fixed upon the sky. “Are you ready for tomorrow, aier?”

“I suppose so,” Glorfindel replied quietly. He felt strangely alone all of a sudden; Estelien’s presence helped to ease the loneliness somewhat, but it was not his mother’s company Glorfindel craved. He craved another’s presence, but who it was he wanted to be near he was uncertain. It was an odd feeling, one he could not place his finger upon.

“What troubles you so, Glorfindel?”

“Nana…” He tore his eyes away from the sky, fixing them upon his mother’s face. Estelien bore a gentle smile as she patiently waited for him to speak. Did he dare ask her what was really on his mind?

“Speak, aier,” Estelien urged. “I will answer your questions as best as I can. You may always speak freely with me.”

He had to ask, needed to know. Unable to contain himself any longer, Glorfindel took a deep breath before voicing his thoughts. “Nana…what will happen to me tomorrow?”

She had expected the question, but all the same she was unprepared for it. Claiming a seat near her son’s perch, Estelien gathered Glorfindel’s hands into her own and gazed deeply into his eyes. “I honestly do not know,” she answered truthfully. “Perhaps all of your memories will return to you, aps aps not. The real question should be: are you prepared for whatever may happen tomorrow?”

“I…I don’t know.” The golden-haired Elf sighed deeply, squeezing his mother’s hands and he closing his eyes. “I am afraid, Nana.”

“Of what?”

“Of what will happen. What if I remember who I was and I do not like myself? What if I did ill deeds that I will now regret? What if…”

“You were no such person, Glorfindel.”

“But how do you know?! You and Ada have told me before that in my past life I left Valinor. I left you and Ada behind and never saw you again. How do you know I did not change whilst I was gone?”

“Because,” Estelien said, releasing her son’s hands as she cupped his face in her slender fingers. “Because you are my son, and the son I knew would never had done anything you may be imagining. That Glorfindel was kind and caring, and he loved his friends and family very much. He was very loyal and would obey any command his leader would set before him. He was you, and you are him. You are the same Glorfindel; the Glorfindel then and the Glorfindel now are no different. Changed, yes, but no different inside, where it matters the most.”

“Nana…”

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you will face it. There are things you will learn about yourself, and you will grow from what you learn. Trust me.” /I can protect you no longer. You will remember Ecthelion tomorrow./ How she wished she could protect him a while longer from the pain he would surely experience! But Estelien knew the time had come and would not interfere any longer.

He merely nodded, at a loss for words. Glorfindel weakly returned his mother’s smile as Estelien stood and kissed him upon the brow before bidding him a goodnight. As the door closed behind her, Glorfindel returned his gaze to the sky, watching the stars as they twinkled overhead.

“I wonder,” he whispered, thinking of the dark-haired Elf of his dreams, “if I will ever know who you are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“How do you feel, Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel smiled as Rúmil approached him, affectionately clasping his arm. All of Tirion had gathered at the city’s center for the celebration of his majority; Glorfindel felt overwhelmed with so many people about. Embarrassed was more like it. “Not much different from yesterday,” the younger Elf replied sheepishly.

“Come now!” Rúmil said with a laugh. “You have come of age! Surely you must feel as if you could take on the world!”

“On the contrary.” Glorfindel’s voice was soft as he spoke, the laughter and conversation surrounding him dying in his ears as his gaze turned downward. “I feel lonelier than ever.”

Rúmil grew quiet when he realized what was happening. Glorfindel’s memories were beginning to return starting with his emotions, but the loremaster was surprised they had taken so long to do so. Evening was approaching and still the golden-haired Elf did not remember his life in Gondolin. /It is only a matter of time./

“Glorfindel!”

“Turgon.”

The former King of the White City was a bundle of energy as he approached his friend and kinsmen. It was all a façade, for Turgon knew that soon--very soon--Glorfindel would remember everything, just as he had. He had refrained from telling the other Elf what his memories had revealed to him on the night of his majority not more than ten years previous. Glorfindel had inquired as to the stricken look that had crossed Turgon’s face when evening turned into night. But Fingolfin’s son had not answered--at least not truthfully.

Turgon knew that whatever he said would trigger Glorfindel’s memories and had carefully conducted himself through the last few years. Idril had also been cautious with her words, and Tuor and Eärendil had purposefully avoided the golden-haired Elf; it was likely that the Man and mariner’s mere presences would become too much for Glorfindel and they had not wanted to risk the matter.

“You have finally come of age, meldir!” the raven-haired Elf exclaimed as he hugged his cousin. “You must be pleased!”

“I dare say I am not as pleased as you are,” Glorfindeplieplied good-naturedly. “One would think today was your coming of age rather than mine by how enthusiastic you are.”

“Cousin, you flatter me so. But come, Idril has arrived and Tuor and Eärendil have accompanied her.” Without waiting for a reply, Turgon promptly grabbed hold of Glorfindel’s hand and steered him through the gathered crowd.

Soon he had reached his daughter--now ages older than he was--and Tuor, who looked not a day older than when he had first arrived in Gondolin. The Valar had been kind to the Man, granting him an ageless lifespan due to his loyalty to Gondolin, her King and Ulmo. Eärendil looked much like his father as he stood next to Tuor with the fair Elwing at his side. They had come for a brief visit as night was approaching and Eärendil would soon leave for his nightly voyage, leaving Elwing to retire to her tower to await his return.

“Glorfindel!” Idril greeted whilst hugging her cousin, who shyly returned the embrace. “’Tis a happy day for you, I suspect.”

“As happy as it can be.” His azure eyes shifted to Tuor and Earendil, his gaze curious as he observed them, both weathering his scrutiny.

“Mae govannen, Glorfindel,” Tuor greeted with a nod of his head. “I have missed speaking with you; I hope that one day we will be able to speak of what has transpired over the years.”

“I as well,” Eärendil said. “The memories of the short years I lived in Gondolin are filled with fond thoughts of my caretakers. I still remember the day when you used to care for me when I was but a child.”

“I did?” Glorfindel had never met the mariner, and yet Eärendil was speaking as if he had. Had he truly known Eärendil before this day? Was it possible?

“I…” Before he could say anything more, something inside Glorfindel snapped. Images raced through his mind, assaulting him. He sank to his knees clutching his head, a pain-filled wail leaving his lips as his skin felt hot to the touch, as if it were on fire. Silence settled around him as all attention focused on the golden-haired Elf who battled with his memories.

Visions of Gondolin and the snow-covered Echoriath flooded his sight, days of peace and prosperity. There was Rog, and Egalmoth--he knew their names now--and Penlod and Duilin, and he was speaking with them. There was Linaewen and Nimriel of his house smiling at him in greeting; there was also Pengolod, the King’s advisor, and Alphir of the Fountain. He saw men of his house training and laughing as they sparred with men of the other houses. There was Eärendil as a child, with Tuor and Idril, Turgon watching in the distance. Little Erestor and his sisters, Lothriel and Celebelen, giggled and played within his sight. And then there he was…

“Glorfindel.”

That voice…so familiar, and filled with love as the words were spoken. Gray-blue eyes, the color of the stormy Sea, were framed within a pale face. Dark raven hair floated in the wind, swirling around the gentlest of smiles. He was…

“Ecthelion…”

“He remembers,” Idril whispered as she glimpsed the first of many tears escaping Glorfindel’s eyes. She leaned into Tuor’s embrace as she watched her father kneel and comfort the sobbing Elf, the city quiet as all witnessed the return of Glorfindel of Gondolin.

“It will not be long now,” Tuor whispered, “when he will have to return and leave all this behind again. Glorfindel is strong, but I do not know if he will survive what the Valar will ask of him.”

“I will watch over him,” Eärendil declared. “I will guard his sleep from the dreams that may assail him. He will be rewarded in the end for his loyalty.”

“A loyalty that will cost him much,” Elwing said. “But I believe he will only grow stronger from all of this.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“How is here?” Glorion carefully entered the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. The return of Glorfindel’s memories had been too much for the Elf. Glorion and Estelien had needed Turgon’s assistance to bring their son home, ending the festivities early. Glorfindel was in need of rest, his emotional state fragile at best.

“He has just fallen asleep,” Estelien whispered in reply as her husband joined her at their son’s bedside. “He cried himself to sleep.”

Glorion gazed upon the face of his son as Glorfindel slept. The tears had not yet dried, glistening on the smooth cheeks. The handsome face held immense sadness and pain, loneliness written in the eyes vacant with sleep. “He misses Ecthelion. He has always felt lonely but has never known why…until now.” He sighed deeply, sitting down carefully on the bed next to Estelien and wrapping an arm about her shoulders. She leaned into him and Glorion placed a tender kiss upon her brow.

“The Valar have called him.” She knew the answer and therefore had not asked the question. Both of them knew of the Valar’s plans to send their child back to Middle-earth for a duty yet unfulfilled. They had been informed long ago that Glorfindel would have to return to Middle-earth one day to perform duties that only he could accomplish. Estelien, however, had not expected the call to come so soon after the return of her son‘s memories.

“Aye, they have. They wish for him to leave in two days time.”

“So soon?” That was much sooner than she had anticipated! “Is that wise? Surely they know of the return of his memories.”

“They do, and I believe that is why they are sending him now. We both know that Glorfindel will only brood over his loss unless he is otherwise occupied.” Glorion felt his wife’s shoulders slump and he held her tighter. “He is charged with guarding Eärendil’s second son, who yet lives in Middle-earth. It is an honorable charge.”

“I will miss him. Again I must say good-bye to my only child.”

“Do not fret, meleth-nîn. Glorfindel will return to us. He will always return to us.”

“I know he will.” Estelien managed a small smile as she returned her husband’s kiss, the pair keeping vigil over their son for the rest of the night. Trying days were ahead of them, but they would pull through. They had to, for their sakes and their son’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning was bright and the sky cloudless. The Sea was calm and clear, the wind favorable and blowing in from the West, heading for the East. A white ship bobbed in the water at one of Alqualondë’s numerous docks, waiting patiently for her passengers to board and the crew to set sail.

“I will miss you,” Glorfindel said, saddened, as he bestowed one last hug upon his mother.

“And I you, aier,” Estelien replied as she attempted to hold back her tears. “Again I must let you go, but I am at least glad the circumstances are not so dire.”

“I will return, Nana. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

“Ada?” Glorfindel turned to his father then. He turned Glorion’s smile before embracing his father, his eyes dry no longer as the tears began to flow freely.

“Be well, Glorfindel,” Glorion whispered. “Be safe.”

“I will. And I will protect Elrond and his family as the Valar have asked me to. I will not disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me.” Glorion smiled as he pulled away from his son, bestowing a caress upon the golden hair so like his own.

“Glorfindel?”

At the sound of his name begin called by a somewhat unfamiliar voice, Glorfindel turned, golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. He found Oromë standing tall and proud behind him, and beside the Vala, waiting patiently, was the most magnificent steed the Elf had ever laid eyes on. None of the horses that he remembered in Gondolin compared with the white stallion, none ever would.

“Glorfindel,” Oromë said. “Before you leave, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift, my Lord?” Glorfindel asked. “I do not believe I deserve a gift.”

“Oh, but I believe you do.” With a soft click of the tongue, Oromë turned to the steed, who obediently stepped forward, his hooves clicking upon the wooden dock. The steed coming to a stand still before the Elf, eying him curiously. “He is yours, Glorfindel. In honor of your past deeds, and those that you will perform, I give him to you. He is a fine steed, much like my own, and will serve you for many years. You shall never be in want of another, so long as you reside in Arda.”

“My Lord, I repeat, I do not deserve such a gift.” Despite his protest, Glorfindel was mesmerized by the fine stallion before him. White was his coat, his mane and tail a golden color that could have nearly rivaled the Elf’s own praised locks. Bridled and saddled of the finest leather and metal work of the Noldorin smiths of Tirion, the steed gazed at his new master with twinkling hazel eyes. Glorfindel felt awestruck as he slowly raised a hand, settling it lightly below an eye, stroking the nose affectionately.

“What will you name him, Glorfindel?” Oromë asked, interrupting the Elf’s thoughts.

Glorfindel didn’t answer right away as he took some time to further examine the stallion. Memories of last days in Gondolin resurfaced in his mind as a name came to him. “Asfaloth,” the Elf whispered, reciting the name of his lover’s last faithful ride. “I shall name you Asfaloth.” He smiled as he was nipped affectionately before laying his head upon the warm neck and feeling a pulse beneath his fingertips. /You shall be my reminder of my fair one until I can see him again. One day, I will see him again. Until then, I hope my letter reaches him./

“Be well, Glorfindel,” Oromë said, taking a step back.

“Glorfindel, it is time.”

Glodel del nodded at Olórin before casting his parents one last glance. He smiled upon seeing Turgon, Idril and Tuor in the distance, hands raised as they bid him farewell. He returned their gesture before leading Asfaloth by the bridle as the horse and his new master ascended the gangplank and stood aboard the Telerin ship. Moments later the ropes were cast off, the sails unfurled and the crew busy as the white ship made East.

“Much awaits us in Middle-earth,” Olórin said as he stood by Glorfindel’s side, the Elf and Maia watching as the land of Valinor grew smaller behind them. “A new life, new people. New friends and comrades.”

“But no love for me,” Glorfindel whispered. He patted Asfaloth’s neck as the stallion nudged him affectionately.

“Do not be so melancholy, meldir. Your time for happiness has not yet ended. One day, you will see. Love will return to you.”

“I could only ever love him.”

Olórin watched the Elf closely, placing a comforting hand upon Glorfindel’s shoulder, a smile hidden behind the gray beard he sported for his new life in Middle-earth. /All hope is not lost, Glorfindel. You may not know it now, or think it possible, but love will return to you. Your love will find you again./

TBC...