Chapter 1: Shadow to Flame
"Rest well, Glorfindel!" Lord Glorfindel, famed Balrog-slayer waved a hand in acknowledgement to his dear companion, High King Gil-galad's farewell.
"And you, My Lord."
Glorfindel let out an exhausted sigh as he opened his door and entered the room. It was the best guest room in the royal palace at Lindon. As per his desire, it was modestly decorated with soft whites and shimmering grays, and a balcony window that opened to the west, that the reborn lord could always see in the direction of his home and feel the pulling love from afar.
Glorfindel let out another sigh, before shutting the door and stripping down to his underclothes. Carelessly washing himself with a wet rag and a small basin, he flung himself down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and without a thought, let himself walk on starlight in the waking dreams of an elf.
The warrior, so exhausted and lost in dreams, missed the slight creak as a black gloved hand opened the balcony window. He missed the soft sigh of the wind as it blew through the new opening, accompanied by the sweet smell of jasmine. He missed the quiet mouse-like steps that carried a small dark Shadow into the room and over to his bed. He didn't feel the mattress give ever so slightly as the beautiful Shadow knelt over him. And pulling off the black gloves, reached out with pale hands, glowing sickly gray in the pure moonlight. The Shadow grabbed his neck and squeezed.
Glorfindel was awake instantly, as his air supply became nonexistent, and with instincts born of thousands of years of battle and training, flung his fist up into the Shadow's stomach, causing the breath to leave it and It's hands to automatically detach from his neck. He kicked it away and it fell backward off the bed, only to leap up again in an instant and launch itself at him. He let out a cry for help as the Shadow tackled him and they rolled, taking them both off the bed onto the cold stone floor. He caught It's wrists as they attempted to clamp down on his throat again and kicked it away again. He jumped to his feet, but not fast enough to miss the hit the Shadow threw at his throat and elfhood, at the exact same time.
He gasped and let out a strangled groan and a choking cough, dropping to his knees, utterly surprised and in pain at the underhanded attack. The Shadow leapt at him again, but he recovered enough to roll away as it produced a dagger, long, waved, and gleaming wickedly in the pale light of the half moon.
Just as it leapt at him again, the door flew open and three more elves entered the room. The Shadow instantly turned attention from the, momentarily, disabled elf and launched itself at the closest newcomer, Thranduil Orpherion.
He gasped in surprise as the lithe, agile Shadow suddenly turned on him, It's snake-like dagger gleaming like death. The prince whipped out his own twin daggers and the deadly dance began as the two blocked, parried, and stabbed, each trying to find and exploit fault in the other, dangerous and tight in the small room.
The other two elves quickly moved away from the death-dance to help their friend. "Are you wounded, Glorfindel? Why does he attack you?" High King Gil-galad asked.
"No, and I do not know. I woke with fingers around my neck and simply reacted." His normally melodious voice sounded harsh and dry. He accepted the hand offered by Lord Elrond of Imlardis, pulling him to his feet. "Oh, sweet Valar!" The elf cursed in a very unlordly way. "He has a strong hit!"
He ignored the sympathetic looks on his companion's faces and turned his attention to the fight taking place in his bedroom. Calculating his move with experience-born accuracy, he leapt forward and in an expert move, swept the feet of the Shadow out from under it, sending it to the floor, with Thranduil quickly taking advantage of It's momentary weakness.
"Up!" He snapped, his mithril blades to It's throat.
The Shadow rose slowly. The hood that obscured was pulled up over It's head, and a black scarf obscured It's face. Gil-galad stepped forward. "You have attacked a friend and guest in my house and shall be punished accordingly."
No reaction came from the Shadow. In fury, the High King stepped forward and jerked the hood and scarf away from It's head. They all watched in confusion and awe as the hood fell away to reveal hair black as onyx and the beautiful, but sickly gray face of a young elleth.
"Holy Valinor!" Glorfindel's whisper was almost lost to his three companions, but the girl heard it clearly and felt no qualms in having a stare-off with the famed warrior. Her face was expressionless, her eyes dark, deep, cold black, her emotions and faë hidden behind a smooth wall of cold stone. It baffled Glorfindel. His powerful faë stirred and pressed against her wall, feeling something familiar beyond, yearning for what was there, telling him she wasn't dangerous, but important, and hurting, and in need of him.
This did nothing for the anger of the others, as they could not sense what Glorfindel did. "Guards!" Gil-galad's cold call brought more ellon into the room, all looking confused at the destruction of the room and the existence of the young and very beautiful elleth. "Escort her to the throne room. Do not speak with her. Do not let her escape, and do not underestimate her. I shall speak with her before a proper Court of Justice."
The guards nodded without question, Gil-galad following quickly behind, leaving three ellon, two angry and one thoroughly lost and confused. "What is happening?" Glorfindel murmured confused, feeling his faë protest to the absence of the girl, that had just tried to murder him. It had been a lifetime since he'd reacted to anyone in this way, and the girl he had reacted to was far from his reach…a world away.
"What confuses you?" Thranduil demanded. "Are you not angry at this?! This girl just tried to kill you, while you slumbered!"
Elrond regarded his friend silently. He'd seen that look before. It was the look that often appeared on King Oropher's face when he thought of Thranduil's mother, or Lord Celeborn's face upon speaking of Lady Galadriel. Yes, it was a look he'd seen, but never on the face of this particular friend, and never for an elleth that had just tried to kill someone.
"No, she did not." Glorfindel's response to Thranduil made both ellon look at their friend as though he'd lost it. "If she wanted to kill me without attracting attention, she had a very impressive dagger. Why use her hands in attempt to strangle me? It was bound to wake me, leading to a fight, then to her inevitable capture. Never to my death." The pieces had come together in his mind, causing his metaphorical cogs to reach a strange and confusing conclusion.
The two young lords looked at each other, then Glorfindel, then each other again. "He speaks true," Elrond admitted softly. "Strangling a warrior so renowned as Glorfindel would never have succeeded."
Thranduil thought about this. "Yes," he acknowledged reluctantly. "So, why would she allow herself to be taken captive?" He asked.
"To be safe." Glorfindel's words were so quiet, his companions almost didn't catch it, but when they did, it took a moment to register.
"Safe?" Thranduil's question was slow coming out, as though he didn't quite catch Glorfindel's train of thought. "Safe?" he repeated louder, total disbelief showing through his tone.
"I do not understand." Elrond looked from one friend's face to the other. Thranduil's was as confused as he felt and Glorfindel was lost in his own thoughts.
Could it possibly be? What were the chances? But, what weren't the chances? Why would the Valar and through them Eru, end his life, only to give him another, wherein he would find love, lose his life, and return to the world of his first life? He'd often questioned this, but now, now that he'd felt the faë of this young girl…it made him think.
Shaking his head suddenly, Glorfindel looked to his friends. "Do you trust me?" He asked. Both nodded. "Then please, do so and help me!" They nodded again, the bafflement never leaving their faces. "Thank you. This is what I require of you."
He pulled his friends forward and whispered his desires in their delicately pointed ears.
',',',',',',',',',',',',',',',',
Glorfindel let out a tight sigh as Gil-galad questioned the young elleth. Her skin was a sickly gray, from lack of sunlight, reminding Glorfindel very much of death. Her eyes were large and black as the darkest, moonless night, Glorfindel could hardly tell where her pupil ended and her iris began. She had long Bambi-like eyelashes and sharp dark eyebrows. Her dark ebony, onyx hair, which pulled away from her face in a simple plaited braid, made her dark eyes and gray skin all the darker. Her cloak was completely gone now, the clothes she wore were completely black and not skin-tight, but tight enough. She had a small but shapely body, though she seemed very insecure of herself, based on body language, rather than the expressionless mask she wore.
Glorfindel recognized her, to a very slight degree, but this he kept to himself, not even telling Thranduil and Elrond. From his vintage point on a balcony overlooking the throne room, Glorfindel could not only see his old friend and the young elf that had tried to assassinate him, but he could also see and gauge the reactions of all the other elves present. A fair few of which were rather angry at the attempted assassination. Glorfindel didn't have close companions by the way of dear friends, save Thranduil and Elrond but nearly all elves respected him to a neck-breaking degree, even the Lady Galadriel.
It was rumored that he was guiltless, that in his death he'd spent time in Valinor with the Valar. This was false, though Glorfindel was very guilty of having started those rumors himself. He'd spent a total of one year in Valinor, on both sides. Save that, he was elsewhere…somewhere he adamantly refused to think about. He had enough problems without dragging up painful memories.
"How does it go?" Glorfindel didn't turn at Elrond's questions, simply letting him and Thranduil join him on the balcony.
"The High King is angry, and she is reactionless." Was his simple answer. The two royals stood level with him, leaning on the balcony, the three in identical positions to each other.
"As is his right." Elrond answered. "I, myself, do not know why we will move to help her."
"I could not see her well, before," Thranduil interrupted, with his own thoughts, cocked a crooked smile, "but she is quite appealing to the eyes, or would be, if she did not look like death in an elven form."
"Considering she just tried to kill Glorfindel, yes she does look quite nice." Elrond stated sarcastically, throwing his friend and unimpressed look. "And 'death in an elven form' is contradictory." He added.
Glorfindel broke into a grin as well. "She did not try to kill me," Glorfindel corrected. "And she does look quite appealing."
Elrond's eyes widened in disbelief. "Do you jest?" He asked. "She is an elvish assassin who seems to have met Death's face!"
The two blonds shrugged in unison. "That does not change her looks, it simply changes how approachable she may be."
"You are both incorrigible." The younger lord snapped. The two exchanged amused looks, but all light conversation was lost as their attention jerked back to the young Shadow with an ear-ringing shriek.
"What causes change?!" The Balrog slayer surveyed the scene as his friends simply stared in confusion. The young girl had gone from kneeling before the High King, hands tied, her face showing an expression of impassive submission, with just a hint of boredom, to being backed into a corner, fear so vivid and bright in her eyes, it caused the three watching from above, to practically feel her complete and utter terror. High King Gil-galad stared in shock as his guard tried to bring her under control, but the young warrior would not have any of it. Whatever he'd said to her during the laps in Glorfindel's attention had set her to screaming and fighting like a wounded animal. Fighting viciously against the guard's attempts to restrain her, with strength beyond what was apparent, given her small body type.
A cold look appeared in the normally very bright, reborn warrior. The girl's faë, suppressed by the wall of cold stone, voluntarily erected to protect her, had cracked, leaving her faë was feeling terrified and threatened. The young Shadow, somehow sensing or knowing he was there, had reached out to the bright and powerful light within the very ellon she'd tried to 'kill' moments before now, begging for help and reprieve.
Feeling her faë, touching his, Glorfindel could feel the pain and fear, not just of her present situation, but of memories past. He could feel her desires and the youthfulness of her being, yet the age heavy experience brings. He could also tell, this young girl was following her instincts, she didn't know what she was going or how she was going it, just that her faë told her Glorfindel could help. She recognized him somehow, just as he felt he recognized her.
"She lacks control." Glorfindel muttered, causing his two companions to start in confusion, neither knew or felt what he did.
"Wha—" The two cut off when the death-defying warrior suddenly leapt the balcony rail and dropped to the floor ten feet below, were he landed with nothing but a soft thud.
"ENOUGH!" The angry boom of the calm and bright lord caused everything and everyone to freeze. The lost elleth looked into Glorfindel's eyes as he opened his arms for her and following her instincts, ran to him. He enveloped the strange Shadow in a protective hug as she clutched his tunic in her hands, desperate fear burned through her like the deadly breath of a fire-drake.
Her faë jumped and cried in fear, but was instantly soothed as Glorfindel eased his own faë through the cracks and breaks of her wall, sending out waves security and peace. Her beautiful light, locked deep within, began to glow with the care it was receiving and before everyone's eyes the death-like Shadow changed.
Before everyone's eyes, she became fair faced, her cheeks sweet and rosy, her skin beautiful alabaster. Her eyes, large as they were, changed, colored aurora, a deep magenta near the pupil moving out, pale pink lavender, then into a deep indigo. The wall fell away, letting her inner light show through and the innocence of her young age took the place of the cold, dark fear. Her long Bambi-like eyelashes and sharp dark eyebrows suddenly were greatly contrasted as the long waves of her plated hair became white as snow, even having a slight sparkle to it, as freshly fallen snow would. Her very existence seemed to be fairer, greater, and brighter than anything any of the present elves had ever seen, Glorfindel included.
She pulled away slightly and finally spoke. "I have been waiting so long for you." Her voice was as gentle and quiet as a brook, as soft as a snowflake, as sweetly high as a songbird, and as innocent and naive as a child. She was the most beautiful thing Glorfindel had ever seen. Looking at her, holding her in his arms, the warrior felt the most acute desire to protect her from the darkness of the world, though it was apparent she'd already seen it. He could not help the smile that split his face. She stared at him with such trust! His faë flared with male desire and love. She looked slightly different, but he recognized her so much more. He knew her!
"They promised, if I survived, I would be saved." Her voice brought him back to the forefront of his mind. He thought back on the time not so long ago, but a lifetime of memories away, when he'd met Lord Manwë, King of the Valar and Lord of the Skies.
"You shall not be alone. Before long, we shall send that which you need most, and that which will need you most."
"Yes," he answered softly, pulling her into a tight hug. "I was promised the same." He whispered in her tapered ear.
Glorfindel turned to Gil-galad. "My lord High King, I understand your anger toward this one. Her attack seemed an attempt on my life, however, I have come to know that it was not. She was guided to me by the Valar. Unable to come as a friend, lest she be killed by her employers, she caused her own capture, ensuring her actions looked incompetent, not deliberate. I beg you forgive any grievance laid against her, in my name, and allow her to reside here as a guest, under my care."
By this time, both Elrond and Thranduil had arrived at their dear friend's side, by way of the stairs, and though they were still very confused, their faces showed the support they had for Glorfindel. High King Gil-galad studied, first Glorfindel, then the girl, then the two young lords on either side of him.
"Do you support Lord Glorfindel's claim and desire?" He asked the two. "You are his friends. Do you not feel anger toward this creature?"
"Yes, my lord, I feel anger to her." Elrond said without hesitation. "However, Lord Glorfindel is wise and strong, if he believes she was sent by the Valar and shall do no further harm, I lay my trust in him."
King Gil-galad looked to Thranduil. "My heart speaks identical with Lord Elrond, Sire."
After a long moment of contemplation, the High King nodded. "Very well, she is free of all charges. She is welcome in my house, under your care Lord Glorfindel, if she so chooses. However, be you warned, should any trouble be caused by her, on your head be it."
With a wave of his hand, the entire room was dismissed. Glorfindel quickly followed his friends out, guiding the young girl along. As soon as they were safe in the guest lounge just off Glorfindel's room, he pulled her away from him to face her in full.
"Becky!" He exclaimed, excitedly.
The pure childish innocence vanished from her face, replaced by a more lived-young adult innocence, and a smile split her face, making it glow bright enough to rival the sun. "Holy crap, Fin! I thought I was never going to see you again!"
She launched into his arms, clamping her mouth over his, begging for one of his earth-shattering, breath-taking, I-love-you-to-hell-and-back, kisses. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her in return, beyond happy that the love of his life was back in his arms.
She may be a little different to look at, but he still loved her more than life itself.
A/N:
Glorfindel's and Becky's time in Middle Earth is just normal font. They're time on Modern Day Earth is Italics. And any flashbacks in between are bold, as are Titles and Author's Notes.