Journey From Darkness

Chapter Four: Defiance

Exactly one hour later, Glorfindel and his escort rode through the gates of Imladris* turning North in search of Faile’s trail. It took longer than Glorfindel expected to pick up her track; she was well versed in the woodland craft. Glorfindel, however, had the benefits of experience and a notion of her destination to guide him. He tracked her well into the night until the Moon set and the party was forced to stop.

Faile reached the edge of a heavily wooded area and surveyed the open field beyond. She considered sticking to her woodland track but it would take her well out of the way of her destination. Crossing the field would be quicker but left her exposed. She had no doubt that even now search parties had been sent out to retrieve her. She had traveled through the night putting as much distance between her and her pursuers as she could. Twice she had crossed paths with the roving patrols guarding Imladris’ borders and was forced to wait until she was sure they had moved on. With the impatience of youth, Faile decided against sticking to the cover of the woods and counting on her skills at hiding her trail to protect her. She loped out into the field, making for the hilly country in the distance.

She was halfway across when the thundering of horses’ hs drs drew her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see a large war party of Elves entering the field. One glance at the golden haired leader left no doubt as to group’s purpose. It was futile to try and escape for she did not have the benefit of cover and the shelter of the trees was now beyond her reach. She slowed her pace as if she were doing nothing more than taking a stroll through the gardens of Imladris.

“You will hold, my Lady,” Glorfindel bellowed the order as he dismounted Celegtâl* and moved to intercept her.

Faile stopped as Glorfindel moved in front of her. She felt an icy trickle of fear snake its way down her back. Gone was the courtly Elf Lord dressed in silks and velvets, instead she was confronted by a warrior dressed in golden mail. A particularly furious warrior at that, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the blow that was sure to come.

Glorfindel watched Faile cringe and, in that moment, knew she full expected him to strike her. He had never struck a woman, especially one so young, and was not about to start now. Her willingness to accept the blow snuffed his anger at her defiance. “Does he strike you often, Pen’tithen*?” he asked her softly.

Faile slowly opened her eyes at his question; there was no need to clarify who ‘he’ was. “Most of the time, I deserve it. But sometimes he is angry about other things and I inadvertently set him off.” Her chin raised a notch. “But I have not cried since I was a small child. I can handle his blows easily enough.” Pride tinged her voice, but did little to hide the pain in her eyes.

Glorfindel changed the subject for he did not think it was wise to speak ill of her sire. Faile was extremely loyal to him despite, what Glorfindel surmised was, years of abuse. His dislike of him was swiftly turning to hate. “Forlindon* is in the opposite direction. I understand your eagerness to present your petition at court, but you should have waited until morning when you would have had the benefit of my escort.” He made a gesture towards his steed, but Faile ignored the invitation.

“I was not traveling to Forlindon, as well you know. I have not forgotten your words in the garden and seek not to disturb you in your old age.” The barb struck deep and Faile watched as Glorfindel’s jaw clenched together in anger.

“Nay, Pen’tithen. My liege has commanded that you attend him at court. While I would never strike you in anger, do not make the mistake of thinking that I will not turn you over my knee and spank your arse. For I am a firm believer that children need to be reminded from time to time that adults are the ones in charge. Now make haste to my steed for I am anxious to have this journey over with. And this discussion is by no means over for we have not covered the very important issue of ‘borrowing’ another’s property without permission.”

His voice had taken on a silky tone that awoke the instinct of self-preservation within Faile. She had no doubts, whatsoever, that he would do exactly as he threatened. She moved to Celegtâl’s side and waited for him elp elp her mount.

*~*

Faile found the journey to Forlindon pleasant enough, especially since Glorfindel had not mentioned her little adventure again. She was pretty sure that he was waiting until they were alone to continue their discussion from the field. She shuddered at the thought of being turned over his knee as if she were a child barely out of swaddling.

“Are you cold, Pen’tithen?” Glorfindel asked as they crossed the great drawbridge that spanning the chasm that surrounded Forlindon. The afternoon sun had finally disappeared behind the mountain, leaving them in shadow.

“Nay, just tired from the journey,” Faile lied. Glorfindel seemed to accept her answer, for he made no more comment.

Forlindon was much larger than Imladris, having been carved into the mountainside, unlike Mar Mordollo*, multileveled terraces and balconies formed its façade. Glorfindel dismounted in the courtyard beyond the gates and lifted Faile off his steed. He tossed Celegtâl’s reigns to a young Elf obviously from the stables and guided Faile towards a great stairway at the end of the courtyard.

Upon the stairway stood an auburn haired Elf with a large smile on his face. “Glorfindel, my friend, it is good to see you again.” He opened his arms in invitation.

“It is good to see you also, Elrond.” Glorfindel embraced his old friend. “How go things at court?”

“King Gil-galad is worried. We still have no word on Elendil and his sons or Sauron. The Yrch* raids continue to harass some of the smaller settlements.” Elrond turned gray eyes towards Faile and regarded her with interest. “And now you send word of a previously unknown city of Elves under attack.”

Faile sifted uncomfortable under Elrond’s scrutiny. After several moments, he turned his attention back to Glorfindel. An unspoken word seemed to pass between them and Faile noted that Elrond nodded almost imperceptible. If she had not been so intent on reading a reaction, she would have missed it.

“I will show you to your chambers. There will be time enough to discuss this latest development.”

Elrond led them up the stairs and through a myriad of passageways. The two older Elves ignored Faile completely as Glorfindel reported on the activities of Imladris.

They finally stopped before a curtained alcove and Elrond turned his attention back to Faile. “These quarters have been prepared for you. I am sure you will wish to refresh yourself after such a long journey.”

A scowl settled on Faile’s face. “I want only to make my petition and be on my way.” Glorfindel sent her a warning look but Faile chose to ignore it. The sooner she spoke to their king, the sooner she could be on her way home. She turned and entered the chamber before either Elf could respond.

The chamber had no openings to the outside. Carved woodland scenes covered the cool, gray walls. Candles burned merrily from numerous candelabras placed around the room. There were two curtained openings on the far left wall opposite the large curtained bed. The bed was not unlike the one that graced her room in Imladris except it was covered with sapphire blue silks and satins. A great wardrobe, table and chairs and a small fireplace completed the room. Faile stalked to the curtained openings. One led to a small bathroom, which Faile regarded with unease. The second led to a se roo room identical to hers, it seemed to be unoccupied. Faile dropped into a chair to await the summons from the king.

It was not long before servants entered carrying a trunk and several smaller parcels. They set them down quickly and left.

Lantare entered the room. She ignored the sullen look Faile cast her way. “Just this once will you go willingly to your bath?”

Faile smirked. “Nay, I suggest you get the guards.”

Lantare frowned. Glorfindel had instructed ho alo allow Faile to wear her armor if she so desired. Lantare knew he thought to let Faile embarrass herself during the evening meal in an attempt to win her compliance. She thought it was a bad idea and had told him as much. But it was his command and Lantare would not disobey him.

“Which gown would you wear for the evening meal, my Lady?” Lantare asked once she had finished unpacking.

“None. My armor will serve me well enough.”

Lantare sent a disapproving look at Faile. “As you wish my Lady. Do you require anything else?”

Faile smiled at her apparent victory. “Nay, Lantare. You need not serve me any more this evening. Go and enjoy your visit to court.”

Lantare nodded and left the room.

Glorfindel watched as Lantare exited Faile’s room. He sighed and shook his head. If she wanted to appear the little savage, so be it. The ladies at court could be quite vicious. Confident that Faile would receive a much needed, albeit, harsh lesson in decorum, Glorfindel retired to his chambers to change for dinner.

*~*

Faile was surprised when Glorfindel made no comment about her attire as he escorted her to dinner. His only reaction was a look of disapproval.

The dining hall at Forlindon was twice the size of the one at Imladris. Faile was completely unprepared for the splendor of Elven court. The tables were covered with white linen embroidered with silver and gold thread. The place settings shimmered and sparkled in the candlelight, the crystal wine glasses sending a rainbow of color across the linen. Six great crystal chandeliers holding over one hundred candles each hung from the vaulted ceiling. The room was alive with a sea of Elves dressed in all the shades of nature from rich jewel tones to the subtle tints of wildflowers.

Whispers and muted laughter followed Faile and Glorfindel as they entered the hall. Faile lifted her chin defiantly. Glorfindel lead her towards Elrond, who was chatting with several other Elves, including a stunning looking female Elf in a satin gown the color of honey. Her long blond hair flowed down her over her shoulders and back like a waterfall of sunlight. Her azure eyes narrowed as they swept over Faile, but brightened when they fell upon Glorfindel. Faile felt a stab of jealous rip through her.

“My Lord Glorfindel, it is so good to see you in court once again. Really, Lord Elrond, you should let him out of Imladris more often.” She flashed a smile at Elrond.

“Lady Fanyare, it is a pleasure to see you. Might I introduce you to Lady Faile, who is here at the bequest of our Lord Gil-galad.” Glorfindel said, after catching Fanyare’s hand and kissing it lightly.

Fanyare turned a haughty look at Faile. “Poor dear. Were your gowns lost in the journey?’ Her voice fairly dripped with mock concern.

“No. My armor is quite comfortable.” Faile answered shortly, deciding she didn’t like the haughty lady who looked at Glorfindel as if she would devour him.

Glorfindel laughed lightly, “Lady Faile tastes tend to be more conservative than our own.”

“Conservative? Is that what they are calling lack of etiquette these days at Imladris?” The group of Elves surrounding Fanyare snickered at her comment, except for Elrond, who shot her a disapproving look.

Faile’s cheeks burned with rage and humiliation. Too late, she realized that Glorfindel had known she would be laughed at for her attire. She turned and fled the hall, ignoring his call for her to return.

Glorfindel knew that Faile would not be able to leave the city and decided against going after her. Let her lick her wounds and think on her behavior, he thought to himself. He was confident that Fanyare’s venom would convince Faile to reconsider her dress and behavior.


*~*
Faile fled through the halls mindless of her destination. She only wanted to put as much distance between her and the wretched Elves in the dining hall. She ran up a set of wide stone steps that open out onto a long terrace. Faile ran along until she came to an opening in the thick, tall hedges. She was not surprised to find the opening lead to a large garden. Flowers, bushes and trees artistically nestled amid manicured lawns.

Faile slowly wandered through the garden towards a thick nest of trees near the terrace’s edge. Half hidden by thick flowering bushes, she found a bench and settled herself upon it. She had never felt more alone in her life. She missed her hunting pack. Her value had always been measure by her skill with a sword or bow, she had gained respect for her prowess at tracking aras* while avoiding the Saurihos*. She had been the youngest pack alpha in Mar Mordollo history.

Homesick and heart sore, Faile could no longer hold back her tears. Not since she was a small child had Faile allowed herself the luxury of tears. It was seen as a weakness and strongly discouraged by her people. She was afraid that she was changing and she would no longer be accepted among her people. In seeking their salvation, she may have brought about her own ostracism.

“Why do you cry, child? Are you unwell?”

The rich tenor of the stranger’s voice shocked Faile back to her senses. Jumping to her feet, she quickly wiped away her tears and fought to control her hitching breath. Shame filled her at being caught crying, especially by one of the city guard, if his dress was any indication. “Nothing. I just…” Faile tried frantically to think of a plausible excuse for her tears. “… just got a bit of dirt in my eye. I believe it is gone now. You may return to your guard duties.” Faile schooled her features and gave the guard a look, daring him to call her a liar.

Gil-galad regarded the young maid with interest; she obviously had no clue as to his identity. So this is the high-spirited chit who defied the Hero of Gondolin, he thought as he took in her armor. She matched des description Glorfindel had given of the Lady Faile, but he had not given her beauty true justice. Her frame was thin giving her a frail appearance. Her lightly golden skin looked pale in the moonlight.

“You may go. I have no wish for company.” Faile ordered coldly, before turning her back on the Elf. A thread held her emotions together and she did not trust herself to be able to stop the flood of tears that threatened.

“Forgive me, but I can not leave you in such distress, for I think no mere speck of dirt is the cause.” He had been intrigued by the report Glorfindel had given him of the events at Imladris since her arrival. The stress of ruling had been weighing on him and he longed for a diversion. The Lady Faile might prove to be very interesting.

Faile turned and stared at the guard. She had to admit he was darkly handsome, a complete opposite of Glorfindel

“What is your name, my Lady? Let us start simply, my name is Ereinion.” Which was not exactly a lie, for Gil-galad had been known as Ereinion in his youth. He saw no need to correct the maid’s assumption that he was simply a member of the guard. Perhaps he could get a better sense of her plight than if she knew he was the king.

Sighing, Faile realized that he was not going to humor her request and leave her alone. “My name is Faile and my people have no nobility as you know it, so you can dispense with the ‘my Lady’. As for my tears, it was, but aent ent of weakness.” She turned and presented Ereinion with her best smile. “But as you can see I am fine now. I do not wish you to get in trouble on my account.”

Gil-galad closed the distance between them. “I have no duties at the present, so calm your fears on my behalf. Now as for state of dress, things are much more formal here at court. Please accept my apologies on the behalf of those who have distressed you with their malice.” He traced his hand along the curve of her cheek unable to resist the urge to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

Faile was startled by the surge of heat from his touch. Only Glorfindel had ever evoked similar feelings by a touch alone. “I… No apologies are needed. Our ways are different and I fear that I will never understand yours. As long as your people prove to be better fighters than they are lovers of beauty and luxury.”

“Do not mistake appreciation for the joys of life as a sign of weakness. We are quite capable of defending ourselves and those we consider allies.” Gil-d’s d’s voice had taken on a hard edge. “You would be wise to consider your words before presenting your petition to the King in open court.”

“I will simple state my case and be done with it. I care not if he does not like my speech. He is not my King and I will not cater to his ego.” Faile retorted hotly. “You are a bad as Glorfindel, telling me what to say and how to say it. Next, you will be telling me to bathe and then dawn a gown. Tell me, Ereinion, is that what it will take to get your King to help my people?”

“The King will do what is best for the Firstborn, which includes your people. Let us talk no more of this for there are other things I would know from you.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, tongue demanding entry into the inner recess of her mouth.

Faile parted her lips and was overwhelmed by the possessiveness of the kiss. Ereinion was like steel, hard and cold. Desire burst forth in her blood as her body responded to the passionate kiss, but her heart cried out for the golden Elf with his warmth and tenderness. Her heart won and Faile pushed against Ereinion seeking to break the kiss.

Gil-galad felt her resistance and reluctantly pulled back, not missing the desire in her eyes. “You hold another in your heart.”

“He has rejected me, but I have not overcome him yet. Forgive me.”

“It is I who beg your forgess.ess. Perhaps when your heart has forgotten his touch, you will welcome mine.”

Faile blushed. “I should return to my quarters. If you could direct me.”

Gil-galad escorted her to the stairs and then gave her directions back to the guest wing. Lifting her hand, he kissed the palm. “Until we met again, my Lady.”

Faile snatched her hand back as if it had been burned and fled back towards her quarters. Gil-galad motioned to a guard who had been silently standing in the shadows. “Find Lord Glorfindel and have him met me in my study.”

The guard left quickly without a word.

“I think it is time, you and I had a discussion, Glorfindel.” He said quietly to himself before walking towards his suite of rooms.

*~*

Faile entered her room to find Glorfindel seated in one of the chairs.

“Where have you been Faile?” He asked without preamble.

“What do you care? I am surprised you even missed my presence, not with Lady Fanyare practically throwing herself at you.” Faile snapped back more than a little overwhelmed by nighnight’s events.

Glorfindel rose quickly from the chair and crossed to stand in front of Faile. “As long as I have been charged with your well-being, you will never again disappear.” Softening his voice, he continued. “I was worried when I returned from dinner and you were not here. I thought perhaps you had tried to leave again.”

“You knew they would make fun of me.” Faile’s eyes shone with hurt.

“It was wrong of me to allow you to put yourself in that position. I admit that, but it was for your own good.”

Faile cut off his next words. “Put myself? You act as if I allowed them to belittle me.”

“Why must you be so defiant? There are no enemies here, yet you wear your armor as though you expect to be attacked at any second. Is it so painful to wear the gowns we have given you? Must you always try and stand apart from everyone here?” Glorfindel felt his pace wce wearing thin.

“I am different from everyone here. Erestor told me the story of how we came to be. My people never looked upon the Light of the Two Trees. We will never shine with that inner fire.” Faile started to say more, but was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe of her room.

Glorfindel crossed to the entryway and spoke softly to the guard standing there. He turned to Faile, “I have been summoned by King Gil-galad. We will speak more when I return.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” She turned her back so he could not see the tears coursing down her face for the second time that evening.

End Chapter Four

Imladris – Rivendell (Sindarin: deep-dale-cleft)
Celegtâl – Swift of Foot (Sindarin)
Pen’tithen – Little One (Sindarin)
Forlindon – City where Gil-galad lived during the Second Age (Sindarin: north Lindon)
Mar Mordollo – Home out of Shadow (Quenya)
yrch – orcs (Sindarin)
Saurihos – Foul Folk (Quenya)
aras – deer (Sindarin)