A TALE OF NEVER-ENDING LOVE
THE COMPLETE STORY OF GLORFINDEL
told by Soledad Cartwright
Disclaimer: see Introduction
Rating: PG for now, but might go higher in later chapters, for violence, character death and heavy angst stuff.
Author's notes:
The parts of Elven lore told here are based partially on ''The Silmarillion'', partially on ''The Lost Road'', a collection of Tolkien's writings considering his own universe. There are slight alterations, though.
The Elvish verse at the beginning is actually Galadriel's parting song (more precisely, the middle part of it), sung in ''The Fellowship of the Ring''. The hymn of Elbereth is taken from ''The Lord of the Rings'', too, where it is sung several times.
Thanks to all people who fought themselves through the Introduction and were still determined enough to read the Prelude. Now, this one is still a bit information-heavy, but in the next part it is going to be a lot more personal. I promise.
CHAPTER 1: AWAKENING UNDER THE STARS
PART ONE: THE MAKING OF THE STARS
During daytime, Glorfindel tapped deeper into the power that was in him to make Elladan sleep till sunset, for he saw how badly the young Elf needed some peaceful rest. He only left Elladan's side for a short hour, asking Elrohir to watch over his twin; for he, too, needed some sort of rest and refreshment ere the long night of storytelling began. He went down to the bath of Elrond's house, built upon a hot spring, and soaked blissfully in the large stone basin, letting all worries and tiredness sicker out from his limbs.
When he came back to his chambers, Elladan began to awake, looking much better than the eve before. Glorfindel sent the twins, too, to the bath and retired to the balcony of his bedchamber to watch the night falling. This was his most favoured hour of the day. Unlike most Elves, the darkness did not frighten him, not even after the coming of the Shadow, and he never missed to greet the upcoming of Varda's stars - the very first thing his ancient eyes had seen from the world.
There he stood, watching the stars' silver flames gleaming upon the dark velvet of the skies and listening to the distant music of the many waterfalls of the dale, and he undestood for the first time, that not his oath, sworn to fair Idril two whole Ages ago, was the only thing that kept him in this place. Whether at will or by chance, Elrond had chosen for his home a valley that was the place where the Elves awoke, very much alike.
For his part, Glorfindel could never imagine a place more beautiful than Imladris. Not even the land of the Valar beyond the Sea, which was fair beyond imagination, yet lacked the likeness to his birthplace - if the way he came to this world could have been called birth.
An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo
ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë
ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë
ar sindanóriello caita mornië
i falmalinnar imbe met, ar hísië
untúpa Calciryo míri oialë,
he sang softly in the Ancient Tongue, which had been his first, the very one he had helped to shape, and which was no more spoken, no even among Elves, unless they were sharing the matters of ancient lore. For no-one else but him was it still something *alive* - for all those who had once spoken it were either in Mandos' never-ending Halls or had passed over the Sea. Its vast richness now became unchanging: precious and beautiful like polished jewels, but just as lifeless.
Glorfindel shook his head in mild dismay towards himself. He came out to devour the beauty of Varda's stars and to refresh his memories of the beginning of days, not to wall in self-pity. This was a fate he had accepted when he was sent back to Middle-earth; even if he had felt regret, it would have been too late.
Yet he regretted naught. Dwelling in this awesome place and watching over Idril's progeny filled his heart with joy and gave his life purpose. What could he have expected more? Not even the lights of Valinor shone brighter for him than the trusting eyes of those he took under his wings such a long time ago.
He smiled again and left the balcony. It was time to join his young charges, who, no doubt, were waiting impatiently for the tale to begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The Hall of Fire was dimly lit when he entered, though the fire was cracking merrily in the great hearth. Elrond sat in his usual seat, yet he seemed more in peace than earlier on that day, and his hair was unbraided, and he did not wear the silver circlet, the sign of his office, either.
On his side, both left and right, his children were sitting in eager anticipation, and even the Lady Aquiel had joined them, her golden hair glowing reddish in the firelight. There stood a small table in their midst, loaded with cups and several bottles of the best wine from Elrond's cellar, and even some food, should the night grow long. Straight across the table an empty seat was waiting for Glorfindel.
''By Elbereth, I never thought I would face such an audience'', the ancient Elf smiled and took the seat prepared for him.
''Not every night do we have the pleasure to hear a tale of the beginning of the days'', the Master of Imladris countered, and there was an eager twinkling in his eyes that Glorfindel could not remember to have seen before. Ever. For, to his regret, he did not know Elrond as a child, having returned to Middle-earth shortly before the end of the First Age, when both of Eärendil's sons were already mature adults.
The ancient Elf laughed.
''Nay, not the beginning of days, I fear'', he said. ''Not even *my* age can be measured with that of the Valar. Small wonder that both Elves and Men thought them to be Gods upon their awakening.'' He paused, thinking. ''Now, where shall I begin?''
''With the making of the stars'', Arwen suggested, reaching him a cup of wine. Glorfindel accepted the cup with a thankful nod and smiled.
''Who else than the Lady Undómiel, Evenstar of her people, would have thought of a better thing to begin with? Well then. I presume, you all know the tale of Illuin and Ormal, the mighty lamps of the Valar, wrought by the hands of Aulë at the prayer of Yavanna for the lighting of Middle-earth amidst the encircling sea?''
The others nodded as one and Elrohir answered for all of them.
''You taught us well.''
''Then you know, too, how Melkor, whom we call Morgoth, the Great Enemy, came forth suddenly from Utumno, his great frotress in the North, deep under earth beneath the dark mountains where the beams of Illuin, the North-lamp, were cold and dim?'
The others nodded again, and the Lady Aquiel added in her clear voice that sounded like water falling from stone:
''He came forth to war and struck the first blow ere the Valar were prepared, and he assailed the lights of Illuin and Ormal and cast down their pillars and broke their lamps. And in the overthrow of the mighty pillars lands were broken and seas arose in tumult; and when the lamps were spilled, destroying flame was poured over the earth... and the face of Arda was marred for ever and its first beauty was never after restored.''
Glorfindel gave her an approving nod, for this was a nearly flawless quote from the old books of lore he had made her study in her youth, and Elrohir beamed in pride over the wisdom of his betrothed and her easy way with well-woven words. Knowledge of ancient lore had always been highly appreciated among Elves, and few of the younger ones could call themselves lore-masters. The Lady Aquiel was one of those few.
''And thus ended the Spring of Arda'', the ancient Elf finished the quote. ''The dwelling of the Valar upon Almaren was utterly destroyed, and they had no abiding place upon the face of earth. Therefore they departed from Middle-earth and went to the Land of Aman, the westernmost of all lands upon the borders of the world; for its west shores looked upon the Outer Sea encircling the Kingdom of Arda.''
''So they abandoned Middle-earth, leaving it unprotected against all evil of Morgoth?'' Elladan asked in clear dismay.
''They did, and as they had to learn later, this had been their gravest error'', Glorfindel said. ''Yet mighty as they may be, they are no Gods, Elladan, therefore they can err as we can; and at times they make mistakes, just as we do.''
''What happened to Middle-earth, then?'' Arwen asked softly. ''For it is my understanding that at that time Yavanna had already planted her seeds in earth: what became of them?''
Glorfindel leaned back in his seat, took a sip of wine from his cup and the look of his eyes turned inward - a clear sign that a lengthy tale was about to begin. The younger Elves, too, took on a more comfortable posture and were listening eagerly. Glorfindel did not seem to have taken notice of them at all... his eyes and his mind were focussed on the events of a world long gone.
''In all this time, since Morgoth overthrew the lamps, the lands of Middle-earth east of the Mountains of Valonor were without light. While the lamps were shining, growth began there, which now was checked, for all was dark again. But already the oldest living things had arisen: in the Sea the great weeds, and on the earth the shadow of dark trees. And beneath the trees small things faint and silent walked, and in the valleys of the night-clad hills there were dark creatures, old and strong.
In such lands and forests Oromë the Great would often hunt; for a mighty lord of the Valar he is, little less in his strength than Tulkas, though slower in wrath. He loved the lands of Middle-earth and came last to Valinor; and even after, he came at times east over the mountains.
Of old he was often seen upon the hills and plains, for he is a hunter and he loves all trees; for which reason he is called Aldaron, too, the lord of forests, and loved and admired by the Silvan folk more than any of the Valar, save Yavanna herself, and Varda, tha maker of stars. And with Oromë at times Yavanna came, too, singing sorrowfully; for she was grieved at the darkness of Middle-earth and ill content that it was forsaken.1
But the other Valar came seldom thither; and in the North Morgoth built his strength further and gathered his demons about him. These were the first made of his creatures: their hearts were of fire and they were clad in living darkness and had whips of flame - mighty spirits among the Maiar, the servants of the Valar they once were, drawn to Melkor's splendour in the days of his greatness and remained in that allegiance down into his darkness: the Valaraukar, the scourges of fire that in Middle-earth were called the Balrogs, demons of terror.''2
Glorfindel paused to order his thoughts, and the younger Elves glared at him in grave respect, for though tall and strong in stature, he still seemed too lithe to face such an ancient power of terror. And, save Elrond himself, who was a master of ancient lore, no-one of them had known before that the Balrogs had come from such depths of time and were of such great powers.
''In that time Morgoth made many monsters of divers kinds and shapes that long troubled the world and have been forgotten since then, even by the lore-masters'', Glorfindel continued; ''yet the Orcs were not made till he had looked upon the Elves; and he had made them in the mockery of the Children of Ilúvatar. His realms spread now even southward over Middle-earth and spoiled its lands and waters with the vile of his evil.
Then Varda looked out from the Taniquetil upon the darkness and was moved. Therefore she took the silver dew that dripped from Silpion3 and was hoarded in Valinor, and therewith she made the stars. And for this reason she is called Tintallë, the Star-Kindler; and Elentári, Queen of Stars. She strewed the unlit skies with these bright vessels, filled with silver flame; but nigh in North, a challenge upon Morgoth, she set a crown of seven mighty stars to swing, the emblem of the Valar and the sign of Doom. Many names they have been called; but in the old days of the North both Elves and Men called them the Burning Briar; and some the Sickle of the Gods.''4
Glorfindel paused again, the far-away look in his eyes bacoming focussed on the here and now once more, and he turned to the Lady Aquiel with a smile.
''You always have been my best pupil, Lady Lalaith5; can you quote us the part about the Awakening Under the Stars, as it is written in the Quenta Silmarillion, by heart?''
The gold-haired beauty laughed, true to her given name, and without a heartbeat of hesitation, she began to chant in the clair, ringing voice of Elven minstrels, and though there was no verse nor music, it sounded in the ears of the others like a song.
''It is told that even as Varda ended her labours
- and they were long -
when first Menelmacar strode up the sky
and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists
above the borders of the world,
in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke,
the Firstborn of Ilúvatar.
By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen,
Water of Awakening,
they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar;
and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen,
their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven.
Therefore they have ever loved the starlight,
and have revered Varda Elentári
above all the Valar.''6
She finished and gave Glorfindel a mischievious smile.
''Was that right, Master Glorfindel?''
The ancient Elf laughed.
''That was flawless, Lady Lalaith.''
The Lady Aquiel's smile turned thoughtful... almost troubled.
''And you... *you* were one of them? One of those awakening and taking in the light of Varda's stars?''
''I *am*'', Glorfindel said; then he raised an eyebrow in mock irritation. ''You doubt my words, child?''
''Never!'', the Elf-Lady hurriedly replied. '''Tis just... so hard to imagine. You, whom I have known all my life... the oldest being in Middle-earth, save the Dark Lord himself. Small wonder you are not afraid to face him...''
''Nay, child'', Glorfindel shook his head in sorrow, '''tis not the reason why I fear him no more. And I am not the eldest of our Kin. I am one of the Firstborn, yes, but I am not *the* very first one who opened his eyes to the newborn starlight. And there still dwells another one in Middle-earth who awake at the very same moment as I did and thus became my sister before the face of Ilúvatar.''
All the young Elves turned to him with open mouths. Finally Elrohir managed to bring out:
''Who else...?''
''Oh no, not tonight'', Glorfindel laughed. ''For that part, you shall have to tame your curiosity till next *Elenya*.''6
Elrohir turned to his father for support, but Elrond only shrugged in defeat. He had know Glorfindel well enough to know that there was no use pressing him had he once made up his mind.
''I believe I can guess who that very first one might be, though I am not certain'', he said. ''Yet I cannot even imagine who the other one is. Be patient, my son. The best things always come to you slowly, as they say.''
''That'', said Elrohir with a dark expression on his face,'' is a saying of the Dwarves, if I am not mistaken.''
''Yet it is very true, nonetheless'', his father countered. ''Restrain yourselves, all of you. Since Glorfindel is not ready to tell us more tonight, and this is his tale, we can either all go to sleep, or we can share some more wine and mayhap a few songs. It is up to you.''
The younger ones exchanged glances, then they nodded in agreement, and Elladan said in the name of all:
''Songs and wine.''
''So be it'', Elrond nodded with a smile; it had been so rare in the recent years that he would spend a pleasant evening with his children - maybe, if Glorfindel's tale took long enough, they could mend some broken fences among themselves. ''Elrohir, have you brought your harp?''
''Yes, Father'', the younger twin presented the instrument in question: a wonderfully crafted, silver-stringed one, made in the Golden Wood as a present of his grandparents, and bit his lower lip nervously, ''but I fear I cannot perform properly after a tale so old and so well-told. I feel so... ill-prepared.''
''Well, in that case it leaves no-one but me to save the honour of our family once again'', said Elrond easily, and to the wide-eyed astonishment of his children, who had not heard him play at least for a century, he grabbed the harp from Elrohir's hand and let his strong, slender fingers glide along the strings, as if it had been only yestereve that he made music the last time.
The others picked up the melody at once, and together they sang the ancient hymn of Varda, Queen of the Stars, as it had been sung among Elves through all Three Ages of Middle Earth.
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
Silivren penna míriel
O menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees
The starlight on the Western Seas.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
End note:
I know. It is mean to stop right here. But dealing with matters of lore is the easier part. For writing about Glorfindel's own experiences during the Awakening I need more time - and a lot of inspiration. (Reviews can have that effect on my muse sometimes... ) In the meantime, you still can take a look at the other stories.
I want to apologize for the unusual amount of direct - or edited - quotes. I considered rewriting them, but since they are very old texts even in the context of the story, I finally abandoned the idea. You are better off with the original at any given time.
1 Composed on the basis of The Lost Road, pp. 232-233
2 Quoted with slight alterations from The Silmarillion, p. 23
3 Called later Telperion, the White Tree of Valinor
4 Quoted with slight alterations from The Lost Road, P. 233
5 To the meaning of this name see ''A Heart for Falsehood Framed, Part 1''. I know, I am mean, but it is boring to explain the same things all over again.
6 Quoted from The Silmarillion, p. 45 - originally a continuous text, I only made the line breaks to make it look more song-like.
6 The first day of the six-day-week according to the calendar of Imladris
THE COMPLETE STORY OF GLORFINDEL
told by Soledad Cartwright
Disclaimer: see Introduction
Rating: PG for now, but might go higher in later chapters, for violence, character death and heavy angst stuff.
Author's notes:
The parts of Elven lore told here are based partially on ''The Silmarillion'', partially on ''The Lost Road'', a collection of Tolkien's writings considering his own universe. There are slight alterations, though.
The Elvish verse at the beginning is actually Galadriel's parting song (more precisely, the middle part of it), sung in ''The Fellowship of the Ring''. The hymn of Elbereth is taken from ''The Lord of the Rings'', too, where it is sung several times.
Thanks to all people who fought themselves through the Introduction and were still determined enough to read the Prelude. Now, this one is still a bit information-heavy, but in the next part it is going to be a lot more personal. I promise.
CHAPTER 1: AWAKENING UNDER THE STARS
PART ONE: THE MAKING OF THE STARS
During daytime, Glorfindel tapped deeper into the power that was in him to make Elladan sleep till sunset, for he saw how badly the young Elf needed some peaceful rest. He only left Elladan's side for a short hour, asking Elrohir to watch over his twin; for he, too, needed some sort of rest and refreshment ere the long night of storytelling began. He went down to the bath of Elrond's house, built upon a hot spring, and soaked blissfully in the large stone basin, letting all worries and tiredness sicker out from his limbs.
When he came back to his chambers, Elladan began to awake, looking much better than the eve before. Glorfindel sent the twins, too, to the bath and retired to the balcony of his bedchamber to watch the night falling. This was his most favoured hour of the day. Unlike most Elves, the darkness did not frighten him, not even after the coming of the Shadow, and he never missed to greet the upcoming of Varda's stars - the very first thing his ancient eyes had seen from the world.
There he stood, watching the stars' silver flames gleaming upon the dark velvet of the skies and listening to the distant music of the many waterfalls of the dale, and he undestood for the first time, that not his oath, sworn to fair Idril two whole Ages ago, was the only thing that kept him in this place. Whether at will or by chance, Elrond had chosen for his home a valley that was the place where the Elves awoke, very much alike.
For his part, Glorfindel could never imagine a place more beautiful than Imladris. Not even the land of the Valar beyond the Sea, which was fair beyond imagination, yet lacked the likeness to his birthplace - if the way he came to this world could have been called birth.
An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo
ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë
ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë
ar sindanóriello caita mornië
i falmalinnar imbe met, ar hísië
untúpa Calciryo míri oialë,
he sang softly in the Ancient Tongue, which had been his first, the very one he had helped to shape, and which was no more spoken, no even among Elves, unless they were sharing the matters of ancient lore. For no-one else but him was it still something *alive* - for all those who had once spoken it were either in Mandos' never-ending Halls or had passed over the Sea. Its vast richness now became unchanging: precious and beautiful like polished jewels, but just as lifeless.
Glorfindel shook his head in mild dismay towards himself. He came out to devour the beauty of Varda's stars and to refresh his memories of the beginning of days, not to wall in self-pity. This was a fate he had accepted when he was sent back to Middle-earth; even if he had felt regret, it would have been too late.
Yet he regretted naught. Dwelling in this awesome place and watching over Idril's progeny filled his heart with joy and gave his life purpose. What could he have expected more? Not even the lights of Valinor shone brighter for him than the trusting eyes of those he took under his wings such a long time ago.
He smiled again and left the balcony. It was time to join his young charges, who, no doubt, were waiting impatiently for the tale to begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The Hall of Fire was dimly lit when he entered, though the fire was cracking merrily in the great hearth. Elrond sat in his usual seat, yet he seemed more in peace than earlier on that day, and his hair was unbraided, and he did not wear the silver circlet, the sign of his office, either.
On his side, both left and right, his children were sitting in eager anticipation, and even the Lady Aquiel had joined them, her golden hair glowing reddish in the firelight. There stood a small table in their midst, loaded with cups and several bottles of the best wine from Elrond's cellar, and even some food, should the night grow long. Straight across the table an empty seat was waiting for Glorfindel.
''By Elbereth, I never thought I would face such an audience'', the ancient Elf smiled and took the seat prepared for him.
''Not every night do we have the pleasure to hear a tale of the beginning of the days'', the Master of Imladris countered, and there was an eager twinkling in his eyes that Glorfindel could not remember to have seen before. Ever. For, to his regret, he did not know Elrond as a child, having returned to Middle-earth shortly before the end of the First Age, when both of Eärendil's sons were already mature adults.
The ancient Elf laughed.
''Nay, not the beginning of days, I fear'', he said. ''Not even *my* age can be measured with that of the Valar. Small wonder that both Elves and Men thought them to be Gods upon their awakening.'' He paused, thinking. ''Now, where shall I begin?''
''With the making of the stars'', Arwen suggested, reaching him a cup of wine. Glorfindel accepted the cup with a thankful nod and smiled.
''Who else than the Lady Undómiel, Evenstar of her people, would have thought of a better thing to begin with? Well then. I presume, you all know the tale of Illuin and Ormal, the mighty lamps of the Valar, wrought by the hands of Aulë at the prayer of Yavanna for the lighting of Middle-earth amidst the encircling sea?''
The others nodded as one and Elrohir answered for all of them.
''You taught us well.''
''Then you know, too, how Melkor, whom we call Morgoth, the Great Enemy, came forth suddenly from Utumno, his great frotress in the North, deep under earth beneath the dark mountains where the beams of Illuin, the North-lamp, were cold and dim?'
The others nodded again, and the Lady Aquiel added in her clear voice that sounded like water falling from stone:
''He came forth to war and struck the first blow ere the Valar were prepared, and he assailed the lights of Illuin and Ormal and cast down their pillars and broke their lamps. And in the overthrow of the mighty pillars lands were broken and seas arose in tumult; and when the lamps were spilled, destroying flame was poured over the earth... and the face of Arda was marred for ever and its first beauty was never after restored.''
Glorfindel gave her an approving nod, for this was a nearly flawless quote from the old books of lore he had made her study in her youth, and Elrohir beamed in pride over the wisdom of his betrothed and her easy way with well-woven words. Knowledge of ancient lore had always been highly appreciated among Elves, and few of the younger ones could call themselves lore-masters. The Lady Aquiel was one of those few.
''And thus ended the Spring of Arda'', the ancient Elf finished the quote. ''The dwelling of the Valar upon Almaren was utterly destroyed, and they had no abiding place upon the face of earth. Therefore they departed from Middle-earth and went to the Land of Aman, the westernmost of all lands upon the borders of the world; for its west shores looked upon the Outer Sea encircling the Kingdom of Arda.''
''So they abandoned Middle-earth, leaving it unprotected against all evil of Morgoth?'' Elladan asked in clear dismay.
''They did, and as they had to learn later, this had been their gravest error'', Glorfindel said. ''Yet mighty as they may be, they are no Gods, Elladan, therefore they can err as we can; and at times they make mistakes, just as we do.''
''What happened to Middle-earth, then?'' Arwen asked softly. ''For it is my understanding that at that time Yavanna had already planted her seeds in earth: what became of them?''
Glorfindel leaned back in his seat, took a sip of wine from his cup and the look of his eyes turned inward - a clear sign that a lengthy tale was about to begin. The younger Elves, too, took on a more comfortable posture and were listening eagerly. Glorfindel did not seem to have taken notice of them at all... his eyes and his mind were focussed on the events of a world long gone.
''In all this time, since Morgoth overthrew the lamps, the lands of Middle-earth east of the Mountains of Valonor were without light. While the lamps were shining, growth began there, which now was checked, for all was dark again. But already the oldest living things had arisen: in the Sea the great weeds, and on the earth the shadow of dark trees. And beneath the trees small things faint and silent walked, and in the valleys of the night-clad hills there were dark creatures, old and strong.
In such lands and forests Oromë the Great would often hunt; for a mighty lord of the Valar he is, little less in his strength than Tulkas, though slower in wrath. He loved the lands of Middle-earth and came last to Valinor; and even after, he came at times east over the mountains.
Of old he was often seen upon the hills and plains, for he is a hunter and he loves all trees; for which reason he is called Aldaron, too, the lord of forests, and loved and admired by the Silvan folk more than any of the Valar, save Yavanna herself, and Varda, tha maker of stars. And with Oromë at times Yavanna came, too, singing sorrowfully; for she was grieved at the darkness of Middle-earth and ill content that it was forsaken.1
But the other Valar came seldom thither; and in the North Morgoth built his strength further and gathered his demons about him. These were the first made of his creatures: their hearts were of fire and they were clad in living darkness and had whips of flame - mighty spirits among the Maiar, the servants of the Valar they once were, drawn to Melkor's splendour in the days of his greatness and remained in that allegiance down into his darkness: the Valaraukar, the scourges of fire that in Middle-earth were called the Balrogs, demons of terror.''2
Glorfindel paused to order his thoughts, and the younger Elves glared at him in grave respect, for though tall and strong in stature, he still seemed too lithe to face such an ancient power of terror. And, save Elrond himself, who was a master of ancient lore, no-one of them had known before that the Balrogs had come from such depths of time and were of such great powers.
''In that time Morgoth made many monsters of divers kinds and shapes that long troubled the world and have been forgotten since then, even by the lore-masters'', Glorfindel continued; ''yet the Orcs were not made till he had looked upon the Elves; and he had made them in the mockery of the Children of Ilúvatar. His realms spread now even southward over Middle-earth and spoiled its lands and waters with the vile of his evil.
Then Varda looked out from the Taniquetil upon the darkness and was moved. Therefore she took the silver dew that dripped from Silpion3 and was hoarded in Valinor, and therewith she made the stars. And for this reason she is called Tintallë, the Star-Kindler; and Elentári, Queen of Stars. She strewed the unlit skies with these bright vessels, filled with silver flame; but nigh in North, a challenge upon Morgoth, she set a crown of seven mighty stars to swing, the emblem of the Valar and the sign of Doom. Many names they have been called; but in the old days of the North both Elves and Men called them the Burning Briar; and some the Sickle of the Gods.''4
Glorfindel paused again, the far-away look in his eyes bacoming focussed on the here and now once more, and he turned to the Lady Aquiel with a smile.
''You always have been my best pupil, Lady Lalaith5; can you quote us the part about the Awakening Under the Stars, as it is written in the Quenta Silmarillion, by heart?''
The gold-haired beauty laughed, true to her given name, and without a heartbeat of hesitation, she began to chant in the clair, ringing voice of Elven minstrels, and though there was no verse nor music, it sounded in the ears of the others like a song.
''It is told that even as Varda ended her labours
- and they were long -
when first Menelmacar strode up the sky
and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists
above the borders of the world,
in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke,
the Firstborn of Ilúvatar.
By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen,
Water of Awakening,
they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar;
and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen,
their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven.
Therefore they have ever loved the starlight,
and have revered Varda Elentári
above all the Valar.''6
She finished and gave Glorfindel a mischievious smile.
''Was that right, Master Glorfindel?''
The ancient Elf laughed.
''That was flawless, Lady Lalaith.''
The Lady Aquiel's smile turned thoughtful... almost troubled.
''And you... *you* were one of them? One of those awakening and taking in the light of Varda's stars?''
''I *am*'', Glorfindel said; then he raised an eyebrow in mock irritation. ''You doubt my words, child?''
''Never!'', the Elf-Lady hurriedly replied. '''Tis just... so hard to imagine. You, whom I have known all my life... the oldest being in Middle-earth, save the Dark Lord himself. Small wonder you are not afraid to face him...''
''Nay, child'', Glorfindel shook his head in sorrow, '''tis not the reason why I fear him no more. And I am not the eldest of our Kin. I am one of the Firstborn, yes, but I am not *the* very first one who opened his eyes to the newborn starlight. And there still dwells another one in Middle-earth who awake at the very same moment as I did and thus became my sister before the face of Ilúvatar.''
All the young Elves turned to him with open mouths. Finally Elrohir managed to bring out:
''Who else...?''
''Oh no, not tonight'', Glorfindel laughed. ''For that part, you shall have to tame your curiosity till next *Elenya*.''6
Elrohir turned to his father for support, but Elrond only shrugged in defeat. He had know Glorfindel well enough to know that there was no use pressing him had he once made up his mind.
''I believe I can guess who that very first one might be, though I am not certain'', he said. ''Yet I cannot even imagine who the other one is. Be patient, my son. The best things always come to you slowly, as they say.''
''That'', said Elrohir with a dark expression on his face,'' is a saying of the Dwarves, if I am not mistaken.''
''Yet it is very true, nonetheless'', his father countered. ''Restrain yourselves, all of you. Since Glorfindel is not ready to tell us more tonight, and this is his tale, we can either all go to sleep, or we can share some more wine and mayhap a few songs. It is up to you.''
The younger ones exchanged glances, then they nodded in agreement, and Elladan said in the name of all:
''Songs and wine.''
''So be it'', Elrond nodded with a smile; it had been so rare in the recent years that he would spend a pleasant evening with his children - maybe, if Glorfindel's tale took long enough, they could mend some broken fences among themselves. ''Elrohir, have you brought your harp?''
''Yes, Father'', the younger twin presented the instrument in question: a wonderfully crafted, silver-stringed one, made in the Golden Wood as a present of his grandparents, and bit his lower lip nervously, ''but I fear I cannot perform properly after a tale so old and so well-told. I feel so... ill-prepared.''
''Well, in that case it leaves no-one but me to save the honour of our family once again'', said Elrond easily, and to the wide-eyed astonishment of his children, who had not heard him play at least for a century, he grabbed the harp from Elrohir's hand and let his strong, slender fingers glide along the strings, as if it had been only yestereve that he made music the last time.
The others picked up the melody at once, and together they sang the ancient hymn of Varda, Queen of the Stars, as it had been sung among Elves through all Three Ages of Middle Earth.
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
Silivren penna míriel
O menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees
The starlight on the Western Seas.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
End note:
I know. It is mean to stop right here. But dealing with matters of lore is the easier part. For writing about Glorfindel's own experiences during the Awakening I need more time - and a lot of inspiration. (Reviews can have that effect on my muse sometimes... ) In the meantime, you still can take a look at the other stories.
I want to apologize for the unusual amount of direct - or edited - quotes. I considered rewriting them, but since they are very old texts even in the context of the story, I finally abandoned the idea. You are better off with the original at any given time.
1 Composed on the basis of The Lost Road, pp. 232-233
2 Quoted with slight alterations from The Silmarillion, p. 23
3 Called later Telperion, the White Tree of Valinor
4 Quoted with slight alterations from The Lost Road, P. 233
5 To the meaning of this name see ''A Heart for Falsehood Framed, Part 1''. I know, I am mean, but it is boring to explain the same things all over again.
6 Quoted from The Silmarillion, p. 45 - originally a continuous text, I only made the line breaks to make it look more song-like.
6 The first day of the six-day-week according to the calendar of Imladris