Surprise was not a feeling that Arya was very familiar with. She prided herself on being able to take everything in stride, emotionlessly, without hesitation. When she had succeeded in ambushing and destroying the Night King, she had been relieved and exhausted, but not all that surprised. When a mass of land appeared from thin air in front of her ship just a few days ago, she had been curious, but had easily maintained her composure.
Despite that, however, she could truthfully say that she was surprised by the rider that came around the bend ahead of them. He was mounted on a proud white horse, whose harness and girdle were adorned with small silver bells that clinked lightly as it ran. The rider's white cloak streamed out behind him, and seemed to glow brightly in the shadows. His hood was thrown back, long blond hair blowing in the breeze like a flag.
Arya had been half expecting something foul or evil, some nameless menace came to hunt them down. So when this fair elf (she had decided that he must be one) came into view, her anger at Strider was completely forgotten, and could only watch as the horse slowed gradually to a stop beside him.
Strider walked calmly up to the horse, and stroked it's head lightly. Looking up, he exchanged some words with the rider. Try as she might, Arya couldn't discern what they were saying to each other. Not that it would have mattered; she doubted they were speaking the common tongue.
With a small nod, Strider turned abruptly, and made a gesture toward their hiding place, as if beckoning them to come out. Warily, Arya rose to her feet. Around her, the others followed suit. Sam helped Frodo to his feet, and wrapped an arm around him for support. They made their way slowly over to the newcomer. He dismounted and dropped gracefully to the ground.
"This is Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond." Strider said as they neared.
"Hail!" The elf said, "And well met, at last. I was sent from Rivendell to look for you." He looked curiously at Arya for a second, and she felt as if his soulful grey eyes were searching her very soul. They were wise and aged, yet powerful. She looked away uncomfortably.
"Is Gandalf there, then?" Frodo asked excitedly. "In Rivendell?"
"Nay." Glorfindel said. "He was not, when I departed."
Frodo's face fell.
"I was to look for four halflings." The elf continued slowly. "Yet here I find a different company entirely. Have you then replaced members of your party, Estel?"
Strider let out a short, strained laugh.
"Nay." He said. "The other hobbits are West of here, travelling on foot. We had not enough horses, and one of us was grievously wounded. I could not risk his safety."
"And it was well that you did not." Glorfindel paused to survey the group, eyes lingering on Frodo for a moment. "But did you then leave two hobbits to wander these perilous roads alone? And who may be these other folk with you?"
"That, my friend, is a long tale, which would be better recounted over a warm meal in the house of Elrond." Said Aragorn. "As for the hobbits, they are not alone. Círdan of the Havens is with them, for we met him on the road ere nightfall yesterday."
"So now have many strange things come to pass." Glorfindel mused. "In Círdan's care, at least, they will be safe. But now I fear that I have delayed you for too long. Your friend is in need of the healing of Elrond, if I have judged rightly. I will guide you from here, and protect you if I may."
He turned and once more mounted his horse, which had been waiting patiently off to the side, untethered. As Arya watched him, she decided that it wasn't just a trick of the light that was making his clothing shine. He actually seemed to be glowing faintly, even as he passed under the shadows of overhanging branches. Shaking her head, she looked to Strider, who was also gazing at the elf.
"Do you trust him?" She asked cautiously.
Strider blinked and looked down at her. "There are few of the Elves who are not to be trusted, lady. It is among men that deceit breeds like vermin."
"Ha!" Colden barked out a laugh from where he was standing nearby. "That's a great way to put it. Breeds like vermin. I love it."
"Only because it applies to you." Barroth joked.
Both men shared a laugh, and Arya just chuckled in amusement.
They moved out together, bringing their horses carefully down the slope from where they had been hidden. As they mounted, Arya took a moment to watch Frodo. At first glance he seemed fine, but she could see the pain in his eyes as he walked with Sam, the way he held his arm loosely at his side. His silence was unexpected. She would have thought that he would have begun complaining long ago, asking to be carried. Apparently he was made of sterner stuff than she had thought.
As soon as they were all mounted and ready, Glorfindel set off with them. They all rode in a close group, except for Strider, who hung behind a bit. Arya found herself watching Glorfindel's back for most of the ride. He intrigued her greatly, with his powerful aura and piercing eyes. He was like Círdan, and yet unlike him. While they were both fair, noble lords of the elves, Glorfindel lacked Círdan's refined disposition. He seemed warmer, more approachable and down to earth.
As they continued East, the land became more forested, and they found themselves often under the shadows of great trees. And now the land was spotted with hills and valleys, rolling and steep. Great boulders lay here and there, as if they had fallen there out of the sky ages upon ages ago, and lay still in broken ruin upon the countryside. The mountains rose ever higher in the distance.
No one spoke much during the journey, save for when they stopped to rest. Glorfindel engaged in conversation with Frodo, and talked to him for a long time, drifting in and out of a foreign language, which Arya guessed was of the elves. She made a mental note to ask Strider about it later. Or perhaps Glorfindel, if he was willing to explain.
She was pulled back to the present by Glorfindel himself, who was sidling up alongside her. Findel snorted and sniffed at the other horse suspiciously, but it made no response.
"I feel it is my duty to provide some cheer to you, my lady." Glorfindel said lightly. "Why do you look so sorrowful? The day is new and bright."
Arya frowned. "I'm not sorrowful. I'm just thinking."
"And yet deep thought often leads to sorrow." Glorfindel replied. "Would it not be better to stay ignorant and enjoy this fair country while we remain in it?"
"I have no need for happiness." Arya said, remembering an old saying of Littlefinger's. "I have only a need for knowledge. Knowledge is power."
Glorfindel sighed, as if disappointed in her response. Ary wondered why he was even talking to her. The conversation seemed to have no purpose. Then again, maybe he was just trying to get to know her better. She decided to use this opportunity to get to know him as well.
"You desire power." The elf said. "Yet undoubtedly you have heard that power corrupts the hearts of men. So why pursue it?"
Arya considered his words for a moment. She hadn't thought of it like that before, and knew there was some truth to his words. Her mind worked to find a suitable answer.
"I don't believe power corrupts us." She said at last. "Not really. I think we corrupt the power."
At her words, Glorfindel laughed suddenly. It was a beautiful sound to hear, full of joy and merriment. It rang through the stone valley around them, echoing in unseen fissures and crevices.
"Truly," Glorfindel said at last. "You have wisdom unbecoming of your years, my lady…"
"Arya. Of house Stark"
"Arya." He smiled at her. "A curious name, yet befitting of one so curious as yourself. I do enjoy your company, my lady, and I hope to aid you in the future, if ever you should need it."
She nodded her thanks, a little confused by the praise. Before she could respond, they came suddenly over the crest of a small knoll, and saw that a wide river ran swiftly in front of them, only a hundred yards away. Arya wasn't sure how they had missed hearing the telltale sound of running water, which was now clear to her ears.
"The Ford of Bruinen." Strider said, riding forward. "We are nearly there."
"Yet now our peril is greatest." Glorfindel warned. "If your pursuers were to attack, they would do so near the river. We must make haste."
"Indeed." Strider said. "Sam, give Frodo to me. We will ride faster if I hold him, for now."
"I can carry him!" Sam said angrily. "Yes sir, I can! I won't be parted from him now, so close to the end!"
Strider sighed. "Sam, I do not doubt your strength or courage. But I ask you now to bring your wits about you. Your master will be safer with me. You must have faith."
Sam grumbled a little, but finally relented, allowing Frodo, who was now sleeping fitfully, to be passed over. Strider nodded gratefully at him, then turned to the rest of the group.
"We will ride as fast as the slowest of these steeds may carry us." He said. "Do not fall behind or ride ahead. Together we are strongest."
Then spurring his horse in a circle, he assumed a position at the head of the group, and pointed an arm Eastward.
"Ride!" He cried loudly. "Ride swiftly and surely! The house of Elrond is not far now. Ride!"
With that, they took off across the river. Foaming water swirled around the horses' feet and frothed at their legs, but they splashed through, heedless of the current. Soon they were across the river, and still they rode on. Arya kept looking around, expecting to see dark shapes cresting the hill behind them, or come bursting from the bushes to the side. But no attack came. All else was still and calm.
Soon Glorfindel slowed suddenly, and came to a stop. The others pulled up alongside him. Arya couldn't tell why he had halted, until she took another few steps forward. Then she saw that the ground in front of her dropped away into a sudden steep cliff, which descended for a long way before coming to an end in a large valley that had been hidden from her sight until a moment ago. Waterfalls poured down into it in several places, and beautifully constructed buildings adorned the cliff walls and valley floor. A narrow path ran down the incline, switching back and forth several times before it reached the bottom. It was breathtaking to behold.
Sam looked like he was about to swoon. His mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were wide with awe.
"Well." He said at last, guiding his horse a bit closer to the edge. "We made it, Master. Made it at last."