Journey From Darkness

Chapter Five: Decisions

Glorfindel entered the private study of Gil-galad and found his liege standing before a table with a great map of Arda* spruponupon it.

“You wished to speak to me, My Liege.”

Gil-galad studied the map for a moment more before turning his attention to Glorfindel. “I was just pondering the location of this ‘Mar Mordollo*’ of which you have spoken.”

Glorfindel walked to the map and tapped the northern end of the Hithaeglir*. “From what information I have been able to get from Faile, her home has to be somewhere in this area.”

“Which places it near or in Angmar*, perhaps beneath Carn Dûm* itself.” Gil-galad had not missed Glorfindel’s casual use of Faile’s name.

“What are your thoughts, My Lord?” Glorfindel wondered if Gil-galad had already decided against aiding Faile’s people.

“That I have found myself in quite a quandary. I cannot leave our kin to die at the hands of Sauron’s minions, yet to try and march an army to their aid would be tantamount to suicide.”

Glorfindel decided to sweeten the reward. “Did I tell you of your young guest’s weapons?”

Gil-galad regarded the elder Elf curiously, wondering what game he was playing. “Nay, but I see that you are about to enlighten me on some important point in the favor of our long- kin kin.”

“Mithril. Her sword, knife and arrow shafts are made of mithril.” Glorfindel paused to allow this information to sink in before going in for the kill. “Apparently it is as abundant a resource to them as wood is to us.”

“Really.” Gil-galad was intrigued, to say the least. “Sweet Elbereth, Glorfindel. What ever possessed you to leave that little tidbit out of your report?”

“Strictly as a means by which to bribe you, my Lord, in case you were unsure of whether or not to help Faile.”

Gil-galad laughed merrily. “You are a sly one, Glorfindel.” He crossed to a pair of chairs and dropped careless into one. Motioning with his hand, he indicated for Glorfindel to join him.

“Now tel of of the Lady Fanyare. I hear that she has set her sights on you. Do I detect a joining in the near future?” Gil-galad knew all to well of Glorfindel’s feelings for the lady in question, but played dumb.

“Nay! I have no liking for her, as you well know.” Glorfindel retorted as he took the offered seat.

“Perhaps you desire someone with a little more spirit.” Gil-galad ignored the look Glorfindel sent his way. “Soe fee feisty, like the little wench you escorted to court.”

“She is too young for my tastes.” Glorfindel could not quite hide the irritation at the turn the conversation had taken.

“I, for one, could easily forget her age. You were not completely accurate on your account of the girl either. Very remiss of you, I might add.”

“My Lord?”

“I ran into her in my gardens where she was indulging in a bit of tears. Seems someone has broken the poor girl’s heart. You would not know anything about that would you?” It was a bit of embellishment, but Gil-galad was not the least bit sorry for it.

Glorfindel was suddenly unnerved by the look Gil-galad was sending his way. “I… There has been a misunderstanding between us. I will see that she understands I never meant for her to entertain thoughts about a joining with me.”

“Then you will not mind if I seek to comfort her. She would make an exquisite queen and it gives me great delight to think of the heirs she could present me. Not to mention, the fun to be had making those heirs.”

Gil-galad hit the nerve he had been aiming for, if the look on Glorfindel’s face was any indication.

Glorfindel for his part could only send Gil-galad a look somewhere between outrage and shocked disbelief. He briefly entertained the notion of throttling his King. “I… You… But…” Glorfindel stopped while he regained control of his tongue. “My Lord, she is, but a child and unused to our ways. It would be too much to try and change her. Her spirit is a fragile thing and could easily be broken.”

Gil-galad snorted. “Stop with your lame excuses, Glorfindel. You want the girl. Forget Nirme. She made her choice and it was not you. Faile, on the other hand, would have no other, but you. Trust me, it was not from lack of trying on my part.”

“What?” Glorfindel’s roar filled the small room causing Gil-galad to wince.

“Easy, my friend. Twas a kiss and nothing more.” He paused and waited for Glorfindel to get a handle on his barely suppressed rage. “knowknow this, if you do not claim the girl, then I will.”

“I understand. Is there anything else?” Glorfindel’s voice shook with emotion.

“Nay. We will speak again after Faile has made her petition on the morrow.” Gil-galad dismissed his friend with a wave of his hand.

*~*

Glorfindel paced the length of his room, his emotions in an uproar. He knew Gil-galad was correct, but he still couldn’t make himself move past the curtain that separated his room from Faile’s. Old fearsurrsurrected in his mind. Glorfindel mentally went over reason after reason why it would be best simply to allow Gil-galad to woo and win Faile. It wasn’t working and he finally admitted to himself that her age was just an excuse.

He slowly slipped past the curtain that separated the two rooms. He scanned the room quickly finding Faile slumped in a chair looking for all the world like a child who has lost a favorite toy.

“Let me guess. You have returned to lecture me.”

“” Gl” Glorfindel didn’t know where to begin. He thought of her statement earlier about never seeing the light of the two trees. It sparked an idea. “I have something to show you.”

Before Faile could protect, Glorfindel grabbed her hand and practically dragged her from the room. She followed him through the halls until they reached a gardened tier. It was not the same garden she had wandered into earlier, much to her relief. She had no wish to run into the impertinent guard who kissed her.

“It is a garden, Glorfindel. I think I have seen one before.”

“Tis not the garden that I wish to show you.” Glorfindel led her to a quiet glade that opened to reveal a view of the land and sky that lay before Forlindon*. He dropped to the grass pulling her along with him.

“Erestor told you of the Two Trees, but did he tell you of the Silmarilli*?”

“Yes. They were jewels made by Fëanor with the light of the Two Trees. Morgoth stole them and it sparked the Noldor revolt and the Oath which haunted the sons of Fëanor.”

“Did he tell you what finally became of them?”

Faile shook her head.

Glorfindel pointed to a star shining brightly in the West. “That is the Star of Eärendil. Eärendil bares one of the Silmarilli on his forehead. The Valar* set him amid the other stars as a sign of hope for the Eldar* and Edain* here on Arda.”

Faile stared in wonder at the star, which was sparkling against the night sky. “It is beautiful. Do you think the Two Trees will ever be remade by the Valar?”

“I do not know, but they are not lost to us. The last silver flower of Telperion was formed into Isil the Sheen which we call Ithil* and the last golden fruit of Laurelin was formed into Anar the Firegolden, which we call Anor*.”

Glorfindel paused and looked over at the younger Elf. “So you see, Pen’tithen*, you have looked upon the Light of the Two Trees.”

Faile returned Glorfindel’s gaze with a look of wonder on her face. “These stories have been lost to my people. Thank you.”

“Faile…” Glorfindel hesitated unsure of how to proceed. He suddenly felt like a youth caught in the first blush of love. He wanted no misunderstandings between them this time. aileaile sensed his mood change and started to pull away, but was stopped by Glorfindel’s fingers treading through her hair.

Glorfindel leaned forward and brushed the tip of his nose lightly against hers. He heard Faile gasp at the brief contact. Tilting his head, he captured her lips in a kiss that left no doubts as to his intentions.

Faile broke the kiss a moment later. “I grow tired of your games.”

“I am playing no game, Faile. Someone made me realize that I was not being honest with myself. I have feelings for you that I can no longer deny. I understand if you are leery, but I assure you that I am serious.”

Faile looked unsure. “I… I will have to return to my people soon. What then? Will you come with me?”

Glorfindel had not given much thought about that particular detail. “We will have to wait and see what will happen. I will not lie to you. If your home is where I think it is, then your people may have no choice, but to relocate.”

Faile suddenly became serious. “My father will never agree to that.”

“Now is not the time to worry about what your father will or will not do.” Glorfindel wisely decided to change the subject. “You will be summoned before the King tomorrow. I will ask you to be on your best behavior.”

“Which means I must d the the fool and play the courtly game,” Faile sighed wearily.

Glorfindel stood and pulled Faile to her feet. “You are to be my wife. See that you conduct yourself appropriately.”

“I have agreed to nothing and you would do well to remember that.” Faile turned and left a stunned Glorfindel staring after her.

*~*

The following morning Faile dismissed Lantare. She had done a lot of thinking and she would meet the King on her own terms, as a warrior. Glorfindel would have to come to the understanding that she would not be ordered about like a child.

She was surprised when Elrond appeared to escort her to the summons. He said nothing about her state of dress or the weapons at her back. Aside from the customary greeting, he said little, but seemed to be studying her intently as he led her to the Throne Room.

Faile was surprised by the sheer magnitude and grandeur of the hall. It looked to her as if she had entered a giant forest of stone. White columns carved to resemble great trees rop inp in to meet a vaulted ceiling on ei sid side of a center aisle. The ceiling was covered with golden and emerald gem a m a mosaic of branches and leaves. The coldness of the stone trees was broken by the strategic placement of flowering bushes around their bases. Faux branches jutted out to hold lanterns that glowed warmly with candlelight. The right wall of the hall opened onto evenly spaced oriels. Sunlight flooded the room through windows high above the arched openings to the oriels. Green marble covered the floor on either side of the great center aisle; which was covered with a thick blue carpet that made it resemble a stream. The center aisle ended at the dais, which rose up to resemble an isle.

Elves filled the hall and gallery above. They paid little to no attention to Faile much to her relief. Elrond escorted her towards a group of Elves near the dais.

“You will wait here, my Lady, until you are called to speak,” Elrond said before he left her.

Faile sat upon a bench that encircled the base of one of the tree columns. She wondered if Glorfindel’s apparent desertion was a result of her parting words to him. She told herself that it was fine, that she didn’t care. She resolved to ask permission to be excused from court after she made her petition. She would swallow her pride if it meant her freedom.

The sounds of horns being blown roused Faile from her thoughts. She stood and movedthe the edge of the d tod to watch the procession that entered the room. It was not until he mounted the dais and sat on his throne that Faile got a good look at the Noldor King.

Shock followed by fury lanced through her as she realized the impertinent guard from the night before was, none other than, King Gil-galad. He had lied to her. She forced herself to calm down. It made no difference; she would do what must be done and then leave. She returned to the bench and waited for her name to be called.

*~*

Faile was the last to be called. After two hours of listening to requests, reports and grievances, Faile was nearly bored to tears. Upon hearing her name, she walked proudly into the center aisle and faced the dais.

Elrond frowned after a few seconds when Faile had yet to bow or make some show of respect. Perhaps, she did not know any better. “It is customary to bow before your King as a sign of respect.” He said in a gentle voice modulated so that mos the the great hall could not hear him.

Faile remained stone faced. “I always stand before my King to show my strength. The customs you choose to display before your king are none of my concern.” Faile locked eyes with Gil-galad, whose face remained unreadable. “I will not grovel and stoop for you are not my liege.”

Stillness descended upon the hall at Faile’s bold words. Elves were courteous by nature. Courtly respect was performed out of love for their king rather than any sense of duty. Faile’s attitude and words were incomprehensible to the assemblage.

The corners of Gil-galad’s lips twitched and his eyes sparkled with mirth, but he made no other sign to show his amusement. He motioned for Faile to make her petition.

“As you well know, my people are in dire straits. We face starvation due to the constant onslaught of Sauron’s forces. I have ridden forth to seek aid.”

Gil-galad pretended to consider her words even though his mind was already made up. “We also face the threat of attack from Sauron. Why should I weaken our positio heo help you?”

Faile paused, not knowing how to answer. Her eyes darted around the room while she considered her options. Resignation settled upon her features as she looked back at Gil-galad. “We are a poor people and have nothing of value…” Her hand had settled onto her sword hilt in a gesture of nervousness and then an idea struck her. “…except for weapons.”

She quickly undid her sword belt and stepped forward to lay the sheathed weapon at his feet. “This was my mother’s sword.” It tore at Faile’s heart to give up her only remembrance of her mother, but she had to help her people.

“You can have it and many more in payment for your aid.” She stepped back and waited.

Gil-galad reached down and picked up the sword. He pulled it from its scabbard and examined it. Sweet Elbereth, he thought, Glorfindel had not been jesting about the mithril. He sheathed the sword and held it out to Faile. “I will not take your mother’s sword from you, but I will excyouryour offer of weapons. Our need for them is great. You will meet with me and my counsel of advisors in the morning to discuss this further.”

Faile reclaimed her sword. “I had hoped to leave on the morrow.” Faile hesitated; she finally had the aid she was seeking and did not wish to jeopardize it. “I have been long from home and our numbers are few. I should return as soon as possible. I beg leave to be dismissed from court.”

Gil-galad smiled. “You will remain here until we readready to depart.” At the look of disappointment on Faile’s face, he continued. “Do not look so sad. You will return with an army at your back. Surely that is worth a delay.” He stood then and left the dais signaling the end of court.

*~*

Faile did not return to her room, but instead went to the garden Glorfindel had shown her the night before. The glade was a quiet spot and soothing to her frayed nerves. She had achieved her objective, but at what price. The weapons would be easy enough to make, but what would the cont int influence of these Elves do to her people. Already it had changed her, much to her dismay. She had been relieved when Gil-galad had denied her petition to leave. As much as she hated to admit it, the thought of returning to the gloom of her home weighed heavily upon her.

As she sat on the grass with her legs splayed out before her, she caught sight of the embossing that had been done on her armor. Her fingers moved to trace the delicate vine and leaf pattern that wound its way down her legs. What would her hunting pack think of this? Would Analto, the pack Beta, make a bid for Alpha? She knew that he would, for the good of the pack. She would be seen as soft and only trial by combat would prove otherwise.

She sat for a long time simply gazing out upon the landscape that lay before Forlindon. She wanted to have something to hold onto in the darkness. The Sun moved lower in the West casting shadows upon the valleys and low places. Tainting the memory as if in mockery of Faile’s desires.

Lunch came and went. Her stomach growled in protest at the missed meal, but still she did not move. There had been times when she had only eaten once a day because food was so scarce. Her stomach had never growled then, it was just another indication of how weak she had become.

Then there was Glorfindel. Visions of the golden Elf-Lord danced before her eyes, his laughter rang lightly in her mind, the memory of his touch on hein sin sent shivers through her. She desired him, yet knew that he would never be content to remain with her at Mar Mordollo.

The Sun finally slipped behind the mountains causing the green landscape to darken to gray. It reminded Faile of home. With the shadows came a depression that threatened to overwhelm her. She could not escape it just as the growing th tha that surrounded her could not escape the coming darkness of nightfall.

It was long after the dinner hour when Glorfindel found her. It was only after a frantic search of the grounds the hae had thought of the glade. He was taken aback by the look of desolation on her face. She did not responded to his footfalls as he moved forwards and settled down beside her.

“Pen’tithen, What ails you?” He asked softly as he turned her face towards his.

Faile smiled sadly. “This is what my home looks like.” She motioned out towards the dark countryside. The Moon had yet to rise. “You stand on the battlements, looking out through the embrasures and this is what you see.”

Glorfindel could see that something was eating at Faile. He waited to see if she would tell him. He sensed that if he pried it could possibly drive the wedge deeper between them.

“I asked leave to return home.” Faile said after several long minutes of silence.

“I know.” Glorfindel had watched the proceedings from the gallery above. “I cannot say that I am disappointed that it was denied.”

“I was not disappointed either.” Faile sat silent for a moment before continuing. “I was secretly glad. I just did not want to admit it at the time.”

He could see that she was struggling to retain her composure. Her pain tore at him, but he remained motionless. He knew that she would resent any comfort he tried to give her. He would wait for her to come to him.

“I do not wish to return, yet I must.” A short sob escaped between her lips. “I have no choice.”

She turned to face him once again; tears streaking silently down her cheeks. She placed her hanghtlghtly on his arm. “I do not wish to leave you.”

“Then do not, Pen’tithen.” He took her hand into his, surprised at it coldness. “You can bring them more than aid. You can bring them hope.” He slowly rubbed warmth back into her fingers. “You can lead them to a new home.”

He released her hand and reached up to cup the sides of her face. His thumbs gently wiped away her tears. “Stay with me.” It was a request and not a command.

Their eyes meet and. an understanding pasbetwbetween them. For the first time, they both felt a sense of peace.

Glorfindel leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Faile responded by parting her lips in invitation. Tongues dueled as he deepened the kiss.

He lay back on the grass taking her with him, rolling until say bay beneath him. He groaned in frustration when he reached to caress her breast only to find his touch impeded by her armor. He hands had moved to the lacings along her side when the thought of where they were occurred to him. He did not relish the idea of their joining interrupted by late night wanderers.

He broke the kiss, both of them struggling to catch their breath. “Come Faile, let us retire from this place.”

End Chapter Five

Arda – Middle Earth (Quenya: region, realm)
Mar Mordollo – Home out of Shadow (Quenya)
Hithaeglir – Misty Mountains (Sindarin: mist-peak-line)
Angmar – Iron Home (Sindarin) Witch-kingdom on both sides of the northern Misty Mountains. Ruled by
the Lord of the Nazgûl who was known as the Witch-king of Angmar.
Carn Dûm – Fortress and chief city of Angmar, located at the northern end of the Misty Mountains.
Forlindon – City where Gil-galad lived during the Second Age (Sindarin: north Lindon)
Silmarilli – Brilliance (Quenya)
Eldar – Elves (Quenya: people of the stars)
Edain – Men of the Three Houses of Elf-Friends (Quenya: the second ones)
Valar – The fourteen greatest of the Ainur
Ithil – the Moon (Sindarin)
Anor – The Sun (Sindarin)
Pen’tithen – Little One (Sindarin)