I do not own anything to do with Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, they belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.
There were very few times Glorfindel had ever been truly afraid. On the Grinding Ice, there had been a very close call and a moment where he thought himself lost to the yawning chasm below before being pulled to safety at the last minute. Falling from the heights, in those final seconds before his death. Standing before The Council, giving account of his life.
It was just a little tea and talk with someone he had known for centuries. He shouldn't be ranking this moment up with the previous incidents in levels of fear. And yet he was, because this was no everyday tea, and upon recollection, he truly did not know this person half as well as he had assumed. Said person also had proven short tempered of late (not that he could blame her) and had the power to back up any threat. Glorfindel idly wondered if she could actually turn him into an actual ass to fit his prior ill behaviour, and if she would drag him outside to do so or perhaps banish him to the wilds of Dunland or some such place.
Vainly attempting to push such thoughts away, he tried to strike the proper balance between confidence and healthy fear. Not fear, he reminded himself, healthy respect. Mostly because respecting her preserves my good health. Promptly as the clock struck the hour, his recent pen-pal showed up and took her seat at the table.
They were situated in an alcove, usually used by either couples or elves desiring to do business over lunch without the interruption from others inevitable in the common dining area. Doing his best not to look nervous, Glorfindel gave what he imagined a welcoming smile.
"Greetings, Lady Erestor. How fare ye today?" Perhaps that was a touch much. The raised eyebrow (had she learned that from Elrond or the other way 'round?) indicated it was. Inwardly wincing, Glorfindel offered to pour tea, which was accepted. He was rather surprised to find that the seemingly rigid and epitome of self-control sitting across from him took an almost obscene amount of sugar with her tea. Or at least it would seem to some, Glorfindel usually took more. Between the two of them, the sugar bowl was almost empty.
"I do thank you for agreeing to meet with me, and for giving me a chance, Seneschal Erestor-" here he was cut off by a raised hand. He hadn't angered her so soon, had he?
"Please, at least for now there is no need to name my title. I know it well enough. Just Erestor will suffice. Now please forgive my interruption, you were saying?"
Glorfindel mentally released a held breath in relief. "Ah, yes, the same for me, I mean, you may call me Glorfindel, of course." Rambling. Right, a wonderful impression. Taking a sip of tea and a bite of pastry that he couldn't quite taste thanks to the sugar in his cup, he steadied himself. His hair, although not back to normal quite yet, was no longer the same, glowing colour it had started out being. If he played his cards right, he could keep it from relapsing.
"As I was saying, thank you for meeting with me. I realize you would have preferred to wait, but I am afraid that despite my rather advanced age, I dislike the time it takes to accomplish things. I like to get things done as quickly as possible. You seem to understand that, with the way I've seen you work." There, that was safe enough, was it not? Erestor had been sitting quietly, sipping tea.
He should have noticed sooner, but she was looking rather strained today. The tea seemed to be helping though, and she answered in a reasonable tone of voice. "Yes, I dislike the in-between stages. I used to be horrible at them, rushing through without care. I learned soon enough that particular folly though."
That was odd, Glorfindel thought, but perhaps she was more stressed and weary than she appeared?
"Yes, well, not to push about the other issue, but out of curiosity, I was right about those being male names, correct? In my last letter?" Curse his curiosity! And his big mouth! Glorfindel began looking for cover, thinking it would have been a good idea to look for some beforehand.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes, you were correct. Actually, your guesses have been correct about a lot of things. It's rather annoying, actually. I've spent centuries protecting all of these secrets and you just waltz in and guess at them from the little you've been told."
Glorfindel blinked. This…was not what he was expecting. At all.
"I am currently 1,503 years of age. I learned, sometime around the age of four or five, never to let anyone know more than they strictly must about you. With a few notable exceptions, most of whom have died, I have kept this rule. I found it particularly essential when dealing with those I dislike or who dislike me." A sharp glance came his way, and Glorfindel found himself scared of the colour green for the first time in his life. Who knew green eyes could look so cutting? And where was she going with all of this? After all of those letters detailing a desire that he keep away from her business, here she was just telling them willingly? And then something she said penetrated his thoughts.
"Wait, you are only 1500 years old? That means you could not have been more than 50 or so during the war! A mere child-"
"A mere child who had never been a child since her parents died before the age of two. A mere child who had been fighting for her life since then. A mere child who had shouldered the burden of a war since the age of fifteen, and the lives to be saved or lost through it." Oh, that those eyes would stop glaring at him! "A mere child I may have been in physical age, Glorfindel, but physical age can be one of the least accurate way of telling how old a person truly is."
That was certainly true enough. This particular body of his was centuries younger than his fëa. Looking into Erestor's (really, really, scary) green eyes, without knowing her proper age he could have sworn that she was at least as old as he was. In fëa, that was. Nodding his understanding, he took another sip of tea. It was a magnificent blend, a new one brought by visitors to Imladris.
"You are right, at least partially, about the age telling. Still, if your previous period of life had been as difficult as you say, then you should have had the chance to rest from that before diving into another war. Experienced or not, children should not have to fight in war." There, that was politic, was it not?
"Except I have always lived to be the exception to the rule. Besides, I have a special…gift…" Gift? From the look on her face it was one she wished to return to sender- "that made me a valuable weapon in the war. Few knew my true age, and considering that they were not exactly over 100 themselves, they were not about to turn me in. True, children should not have to fight, ever." Erestor was adamant here, and Glorfindel looked nervously about as the china rattled ominously.
"But it isn't as if an orc is going to say, 'Oh, you aren't an adult yet? Don't worry, I won't gut you or eat you yet. Go on your way!' I am always old enough to be killed by an orc. If I can fight back, then I will, whether or not someone believes me old enough."
Glorfindel was feeling rather uncomfortable now. He had hoped they would have a nice stimulating discussion about the weather, and perhaps over whether or not King Thranduil would throw his centennial temper tantrum upon his visit next year. Rumour had it that his wife had smoothed over his ill-temper quite a bit.
"Admittedly, your magical abilities would make you a valuable asset. Still, you shouldn't have had to face death, not when you could have-" Glorfindel found himself cut off by a rather bitter laugh.
"My magical abilities were not the gift I spoke of, and I never faced death." Glorfindel raised a skeptical eyebrow of his own.
"Oh, really? I was unaware that everyone could be killed except for you," he remarked, with a healthy dose of sarcasm to boot. The smile he got in return was very dark.
"And now you do know."
Glorfindel's head snapped up at that. "What? I'm not sure I understood you."
"Yes, I believe you did. I may have mentioned that my parents died? They died as mortals. It's a very long story," she said, contemplating while idly stirring her tea, "but to shorten it, my parents used a very old magic. I needed protection, never mind why right now. It allows the users to be granted one wish each, but in return, each must pay with the dearest thing they have or could have. My parents gave their immortality, one for protection from the initial attempt on my life, the other that the protection would continue until I was old enough to fight for my own life." A bitter smile appeared on Erestor's face.
"Hmph. Well, I used that spell as well. It did not take my immortality, for I have never wanted it." Glorfindel felt shocked here, and something inside squirmed uncomfortably.
"It could not take my life, for I have never particularly cared for that either." Again, something in Glorfindel turned and twisted inside.
"So it took the one thing I did care about, with all my family and friends gone- my potential death." Full horror showed on Glorfindel's face now. That explained…just about everything, actually.
"It is one of the reasons why my fëa seems so strange, because it is. Anyway, it is a rather useful thing to be incapable of being killed. True, it's a terror when the orcs who've captured you find out that you just cannot be killed, but it makes a person a truly valuable tool." Glorfindel felt he should say something right now, but he couldn't. The absolutely ghastly implications of that statement rattled around, though he did not focus on them, trying to continue listening.
"Oddly enough, in order to make this bargain, I was actually mostly killed. Mostly, because although technically I died, I never made it all the way to the Halls of Mandos." She sighed, and Glorfindel sat stock-still in shock, unable to comment to save his life. He no longer wondered why she was telling him so much, he just wished she would stop. He desperately needed to think. "It is ironic, that that is how it happened…"she trailed off, frowning at the tea. Looking up at Glorfindel, she asked sharply, "What is in this tea?"
"I do not know, it is a new blend." Erestor frowned even deeper, looking at the tea again.
"I shouldn't be talking this much. I shouldn't feel this calm. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. Why am I?" Transferring her gaze towards Glorfindel again, she began to grow agitated. Glorfindel began to look for a safe place to hide.
"I ask you one more time, What. Is. In. The Tea."
Cue announcer voice: Oh no! Looks like Glorfindel is in trouble now! What will he do? Can he escape? Will he survive Erestor's wrath? Find out next time in part two!
Yeah. I'm weird like that.