I saw them - saw them as they stood in the late westering gold of the sun on the
hills above Gorgoroth, the mighty captain and mightier king. One the Elf-lord
returned from across the furthest seas, strong with power and all the grace the
Valar can give, but yet bathed in joy; one the king who has stood staunch against
Sauron's temptation for mortals' lifetimes untold. I saw them clasp hands as they
parted, two golden shades - the bright bronzed gold of midsummer and the pale
clear gold of dawn.
The next day's forenoon I saw the golden ones again. I saw the one called Glorfindel
walk through the darkness of the plains outside Mordor, hair braided back, face
as dirty as any of ours, golden mantle stained and cut by blade. He walked as
one who mourned and knew that there would be no end to his mourning. I saw him
take the body of the slain king from the arms of his herald, cradle the palely
shining king against his own golden breast and hold star-laid shield against
him. I watched them as they left that place of foul darkness two shades
of gold once more.
