T.A. 3019
Grace

It was at the crack of dawn when Glorfindel tapped on Sarah's door. The night was very cool, though there was a warm a breeze wafting in from the south of the valley.

"Are you ready?" he breathed, in a whisper so soft that even with her elven ears Grace could barely catch it. She nodded. She had been awake, dressed, and reading for an hour at least. She held up one finger, signaling the elf-lord to wait a moment, and then slipped back to her bed where her pack was lying. In it were all of the things Glorfindel had told her to bring, with the addition of her Sindarin grammar and a small book of poetry.

Her bag now slung over her shoulder, they set off, stepping softly through the corridors. They were just passing the library near the front entrance when they heard a book snap shut. They froze, and Glorfindel gently drew Grace behind a pillar, going to stand behind a second pillar himself. Grace could feel her heart thumping in her chest and she was sure that with their hearing all the elves in Rivendell could tell where she was from a mile off. This was reinforced when Lord Glorfindel put his finger to his lips. She took deep breaths, and they sort of calmed the racing of her annoying organ, but not much. The person who had closed the book now poked his head out the door. It was a young elf, though to Grace he was older than the oldest person alive, and she had seen him in the library before. It was like he lived there, a nose buried in a book all day long. Erestor had addressed him as Erurainon once, she thought.

Erurainon looked around suspiciously, his eyes getting closer and closer to their hidding place. Grace held her breath. Then his eyes, like twin beams of a car, passed over her, onto Glorfindel, missed him, and returned to the library. She prevented herself from heaving a sigh of relief. Lord Glorfindel nodded at her approvingly before leading the way down the steps. There was no one about, though a soft light was beginning to fill the court yard and a few sleepy birds were starting to trill their morning song.

They slipped out the back gate, the noise of an opening door hot on their heels. Grace didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to the only place she'd ever known in this world. She was set out on a quest, and at the moment, though still drunk on adrenaline, she didn't like it one little bit.

There were horses waiting for them by a gnarled old tree about a quarter of a mile from Rivendell, along the same path that Sarah and the Fellowship had taken when departing.

"You can ride, can you not?" Glorfindel asked her.

"Yes," Grace nodded. "I can. My grandfather owns a ranch – a sort of farm – and I've been riding since I was very small."

"Excellent," Glorfindel said, "We shall be going at a canter and a walk for the most part. Now come! The day dawns, and you will be missed."

Grace furrowed her brow. "Won't you?" she asked.

Now Glorfindel smirked. "I begged a headache and asked that I might be allowed to rest. Since no one in the Ennorath, the lands of Middle-earth, with the exception of Mithrandir, knows anything about Reborn, I was permitted."

"Reborn?" Grace asked.

"Later," Glorfindel told her. "For now, we must be off." He lifted her up to her horse, and they set off, walking the animals slowly for the first quarter of a mile, and then when the path became clear and they found the banks of the river again, cantering. In this way they continued for at least an hour before slowing to a walk once more to give the horses a chance to rest briefly.

"So, Lord Glorfindel," Grace prompted. "Reborn?"

"Ah, yes," he replied. "Reborn is the term given by the Once-Born to those who return from the Halls of Mandos."

Grace's eyes bugged out of her head. "You came back from Mandos?" she asked incredulously. She had found a brief mention of such a thing in an old text that Erestor read to her once, but she had been under the impression that those released from Mandos stayed in Valinor.

Glorfindel's eyes turned inward briefly. "Yes, I returned from Mandos, and the Gardens of Lorien. But, well, once you hear some of my stories you will know what Reborn are like. I have matured quite a bit since then." He grinned, and Grace felt a shudder run through her. She did not wish to be on the receiving end of whatever that grin promised. But nevertheless, she had to ask.

"Oh, right! Stories! You told me that you would tell me about how you ran away."

"I did, did I not? I shall gladly do so, but not while we are cantering. Let us go once more." He to spoke to his horse in Quenya, and Asfaloth sprang forth once more. Grace buried her fingers in her horse's mane as Mereniel followed suit.

The sun was climbing towards mid-day, and with the approach of summer it began to be uncomfortably warm, especially on their right side. The shadows of the mountains had all but disappeared. They stopped as the sun began to sink again, not much after mid-day. Just enough that the horses, and their ridders, cast a stumpy little shadow on the right, barely able to be seen. Grace's stomach let out an embarrassing gurgle.

Lord Glorfindel pulled his horse up to a stop, Grace following suite. He swung off of Asfaloth with ease, offering a hand up to Grace.

"Thanks," she said, as she accepted it and slid off thankfully to the ground. As soon as Grace's feet touched the ground she felt relieved, though she was used to riding. It had been a long time since Grandpa's ranch in Montana, after all.

Glorfindel was already opening his pack and removing a few pieces of dried meat and two apples. He handed a piece of the fruit to Grace. She bit into it gratefully and flopped on the grass.

"I hate riding," she groaned, not really meaning it. Glorfindel grinned knowingly.

"Well, you had better get used to it," he told her.

"I know!" She groaned again. "That's what I'm dreading. How far to Lord Aragorn, do you suppose?"

"I believe it is an eight day's hard ride," Glorfindel said blissfully. Grace glared, and then suddenly, and rather randomly, remembered something she had seen Elladan and Elrohir giggling at and singing in Sindarin. They had refused her a translation.

"I was wondering," she began. "I still want to hear how you ran away, but I-" she paused. The twins had been blushing when they had realized that she might have overheard them. It would probably not be the best idea to ask a great Elf Lord to translate. "You know what, never mind."

"Very well," Glorfindel said. "Shall I tell you of how I ran away while we walk?"

"Sure!" Grace grinned, pushing herself to her feet. Glorfindel handed her the strip of jerky, and she stuck in in her belt and continued carefully working her way around the apple's core.

"We shall walk our horses for the time being," Lord Glorfindel told her. Grace nodded, relieved, and came up to Mereniel's chin, taking her reins in her hand. Glorfindel also came up to Asfaloth's mouth, but he did not take hold of the harness, only started walking. The horse followed without even being told.

They walked in silence for a minute, as Glorfindel gathered his thoughts. Finally he spoke. "I shall have to give you a bit of background first," he said. "Have you heard of Glorfindel the Balrog-Slayer who died in the sack of Gondolin?"

Grace frowned in confusion and nodded. "Yes, "she replied. "Lindir sang about him before. Didn't he die to protect Tuor, Idril, and Eärendil?" As she said the word 'Eärendil' she automatically glanced up at the sky.

"Yes, I did," Glorfindel confirmed. Grace blinked and froze. She forced herself to keep walking, even while she gaped at Glorfindel, who was smirking slightly.

"Y-y-you?!" She stammered incredulously. "You're LORD GLORFINDEL!? The Balrog-slayer? Did Lindir know?"

Now it was Glorfindel's turn to blink. "Of course he did, he replied. "He did not tell you?"

"No," Grace shook her head slowly. "No, he did not. He just grinned when I said I wished Glorfindel hadn't died."

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes. "Twins," he muttered, though Grace heard him as clear as day. She giggled. The twins had rubbed off on Lindir, it seemed.

She carefully finished her apple and handed the core up to Mereniel who quickly wrapped her lips around it and crunched, demolishing the core with ease.

"So yes," Grace broke the silence, "I know part of your story, at least what's in the song Lindir sang."

"Of course, you want to hear the rest of the story, do you not?" Glorfindel continued without waiting for a replied to the clearly rhetorical question. "To continue on with the background, I was, as you know, a Lord of Gondolin, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, and bound to serve King Turgon and his kin. Sworn to serve, rather. Turgon was still in the houses of Mandos, sleeping, never to wake for ages upon ages, and for a while, as I was young and still newly released, I did not remember my oath. My gwador – do you know what 'gwador' means? Good – my gwador had already collected several of his sworn liegemen when I remembered, begging for the release of Turgon. It did not happen. Then I discovered the bright star in the sky, Eärendil. It had been hidden from me, and those around me did not know it. My gwador mentioned it one evening, and told me its story, and was shocked when he heard that I did not see it.

"I did not believe that I would be able to fulfil my oath and renewed oath until my King was reborn, and even then it would take a long time before he remembered. When I heard that his grandson, the Lord Eärendil, was in Aewellondë in the east, and that I could go dwell with him, my heart burned to see him once more. I ran away. Of course, I was much older than you are, and was much more experienced from all my centuries on Endor, so I survived more than a day in the wild. I went along to the coast, then went by ship from Alqualondë along south. The one who allowed me to travel with him dropped me off many miles down the shore so that he could go back in time before winter, and I continued on my way. There were many mishaps, and I almost died once or twice. When I was nearing Eärendil's tower I met what I thought was an ellon, tall, with a pet hound. He helped me to defeat a few of the… wolves… that I found along my way. He trained me, and he even called me sword brother. I discovered later that he was one of the Maiar."

Grace was fascinated with the tale. She did not know all the places that Lord Glorfindel was naming, or all the words that he was using, but it was fascinating stuff. She didn't know much about Eärendil, save for the Lay composed by her friend Bilbo, and it was interesting to hear what had happened to him after he was turned into a star. Still, she interrupted him, asking what the last word he used meant.

"What's a Maiar?" she asked.

"A Maia," Lord Glorfindel explained, "Is a servant and helper of one or more of the Valar. I count some of them among my friends."

"The Valar?" Grace asked. She had heard snippets of tales of them, and knew a little, but no one had given her a straight answer. She had once overheard Lady Arwen scolding 'Ro for saying 'Oh Valar', so she kind of had the idea that they were some sort of gods, but that was it."

"The Valar are Ainur," Glorfindel explained patiently. "They watch over, shape, guard, and protect Middle-Earth. Surely Erestor has been teaching you history?"

"Yeah, he has," Grace replied. "But it's mainly been Túrin's life, at the moment at least. It's really interesting, though. Wait –" A sudden thought occurred to her. "You met Húrin and Huor!"

Glorfindel smiled. "I did. They were impressive young Edain. All of Gondolin missed them when they departed."

"Cool!" Grace exclaimed, missing Glorfindel's puzzled look. "That is really cool. From what I've been reading, Húrin was one, or maybe the strongest man in all of history. He stood up to Morgoth. Morgoth!"

"He was quite strong," Glorfindel affirmed, a wistful smile on his face. "His strength lived on in his nephew and his descendants, of whom Lord Elrond is one.

"Really?!" Grace exclaimed. "Why don't Lindir and Erestor ever tell me these things?!"

"Probably because they are so used to that it does not occur to them that someone else may not know," Glorfindel replied.

Grace shrugged. "I guess that makes sense," she said.

They fell silent for a bit, before Glorfindel raised his hand to halt them. The sun was now much more distinctly to the west, and they cast much longer shadows than before.

Grace remembered that Glorfindel hadn't quite finished his story yet. "So what happened when you finally found Lord Eärendil?" she asked as they slowed to a halt.

"I cried," he replied matter-of-factly. Grace blinked, and fell silent. Glorfindel looked over at her. "Do not feel embarrassed," he said. "If you had been in my situation you would have done the same."

Grace nodded, and bit her lip. After a brief pause to return to their horse's backs, they continued on in silence, the afternoon drawing on toward evening.

The stars were already peeping out over head and Grace was nodding off over Mereniel's mane when Glorfindel called a halt. He helped her off of her horse, and then looked at her critically.

"I shall watch through the night," he told her, his voice leaving no room for argument. Grace still protested.

"No! I can do at least one!" Her attempt was useless – Glorfindel was already shaking his head.

"You are trembling, you are so tired," he told her. "You were nodding off a moment ago, and you are still a child, even though you are older mentally than your age would suggest."

"Hey!" Grace protested. "I'm a teenager already!"

Glorfindel looked at her with some concern. He took her by the sides of her arms. "Has no one told you this already?" He asked. "Has no one explained this to you already?" He asked.

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Explained what?"

Glorfindel closed his eyes and mouthed something that Grace couldn't quite catch. "I see no one has," he said, more to himself than anything else. He looked at her again. "I shall tell you all in the morning. For now, you must eat and drink something, and then sleep. Your body needs it, much more than mine does. I slept well last night, in preparation for this journey, and I can go much longer without rest. Get some sleep."

Grace looked at his eyes, and saw a depth there, a sadness, and great age. She lay down without protesting.

Glorfindel began to sing softly, a song about a lost maiden and her lover, and the world, the night, and all of Grace's troubles vanished into soft oblivion.