A/N: I redid Chapter 2, and I think it's better than my first version.
Please read it!
Finch: Actually I didn't know that. I haven't gotten around to reading all of the HoME so I was basing it on Morgoth's Ring where it said Elves were reborn. Thanks for telling me.
Glorfindel woke the next morning with the rising of the sun. After dressing in a tunic and loose pants tucked into his calf length boots, Glorfindel walked down the hall to the dining room and stepped into the medium sized room containing a large bay window that presented a splendid view of the sea. Finrod and Gildor were already seated at the table and Glorfindel could see that they were once more arguing, albeit in a more subdued manner.
Finrod shook his head in exasperation and turned to look at Glorfindel.
"It seems that nothing will sway my headstrong son. He is determined to go."
"Nothing anyone can say will change my mind," Gildor affirmed, his face set.
"Gildor wishes to sail to Numenor and from there on to Middle Earth with you, Glorfindel. Please watch out for him," Finrod requested, fatherly concern in his eyes.
"I shall," Glorfindel promised, looking at Gildor out of the corner of his eye.
Gildor wisely said nothing about not needing a protector. He had achieved his goal and other matters could be worked out later.
Amarie joined them in a few moments, and she was unsurprised to hear of her husband's failed attempts to dissuade their son.
"He is quite old enough to make his own decisions," Amarie told Glorfindel, out of earshot of Finrod. "I tried to convince him to stay at first, but he insisted, and so I will let him go. It is a difficult thing for any mother to do, but my son has inherited the wisdom of his father. He will be fine."
Glorfindel privately tended to agree with Amarie, although he did think that Gildor was unprepared for what awaited him in Middle Earth. 'If he has the resilience and strength of his father, he will adapt quickly,' Glorfindel thought to himself. If not, well Gildor might be returning to Valinor sooner than he thought, to the Halls of Mandos.
The ship sailing to Numenor was scheduled to leave in an hour, so after breakfast, Glorfindel went back up to his room and searched through his bag to make sure he had brought everything he desired. Not wanting to burden himself with too much, Glorfindel had packed a few clothes along with some personal effects. Slinging the bag over one shoulder, Glorfindel went to the front door and found Finrod and his family waiting to escort him to the dock.
When they reached the docks, Glorfindel and Gildor handed their bags to the Elves who were already loading the boat. Both Elves received strong hugs from Finrod and Amari? and Finrod once more sternly reminded his son to be on his guard. Middle Earth was not as safe as Valinor. Gildor nodded in agreement and tried not to roll his eyes, being too old for that, while Glorfindel hid a slight smile.
Then it was time to leave and Glorfindel and Gildor were waving farewell to the rapidly diminishing figures of Finrod and Amarie as well as some other Elves that had come to see them off.
When the Elves' ship reached the shores of Numenor, Glorfindel and Gildor came up on deck to get their first view of this land of Men. The coastline was quite rocky, the bay they were sailing into being one of the few places suitable for coming ashore. Patches of green could be seen farther inland, indicating verdant forests.
"If the Numenoreans were ever attacked they could easily defend this place," Glorfindel commented, looking over the island with a practiced eye. "The coastline makes it almost impossible for any kind of invasion fleet to dispatch its men."
"Is that all you think about?" Gildor asked in amazement. "What about its beauty?"
"I see that as well," Glorfindel said with a grin, "but I have always been a warrior and the first thing I look at in any new place is how defensible it is. When you lived in Middle Earth in the First Age, things like that were constantly on your mind."
"I suppose they were," Gildor acknowledged. "Though I do not think the Eastern Lands will be as perilous as when you resided there."
"Let us hope so."
The ship was greeted at the dock by a crowd of people who waved at the Elves on deck.
"These are many of the people that we come here to teach," one of the Elves murmured in Glorfindel's ear.
Glorfindel nodded in understanding. He knew that for a few years now, some of the Elves of Valinor been visiting Numenor to impart their knowledge to Men.
When they reached the dock, Glorfindel and Gildor, with their bags slung over their shoulders, disembarked. Shouldering their way through the crowd, ignoring questions flung at them, they finally broke away from the crush of people.
"Are Men always so loud?" Gildor asked Glorfindel in Quenya.
"No," Glorfindel replied, in the same language. "Just when they become excited."
Gildor seemed to be ignoring the incident that had occurred between them in Valinor, and Glorfindel was perfectly willing to do the same. It made it easier to talk to the younger Elf.
"Where are we going next?" Gildor asked, looking around in curiosity.
"To the king, to arrange our passage to Middle Earth," Glorfindel answered.
Tar-Elendil was surprised when a man came to fetch him in the library.
"I thought I said I was not to be disturbed," Tar-Elendil sternly told the messenger.
"Apologies, Lord," the messenger said, bowing his head, "but two Elves have requested to see you. They seemed important so I deemed it best to tell you."
"I will receive them in the Great Hall," Tar-Elendil replied, sighing in resignation.
The messenger bowed and departed to relay the message to the two Elves.
When Glorfindel entered the Hall, his eyes were drawn to the Man sitting in a chair on a raised dais, a few attendants standing on either side.
"I presume that you are King," Glorfindel addressed Tar-Elendil, inclining his head in respect.
Gildor did likewise while Tar-Elendil scrutinized his two guests. Both of them had the tall, slender build of the Elves, as well as golden hair, which slightly surprised him as he was used to the dark-haired Noldor more frequently visiting Numenor. The king gathered from the way they carried themselves that both of them were lords, although the slightly taller of the two radiated a sense of hidden power and majesty that the younger looking Elf lacked. Not that he could judge from their looks how old they were, the king thought amusedly, as Elves never aged.
"It is an honor to have you visit us, lords. My name is Tar-Elendil and I welcome you to Numenor," Tar-Elendil replied. "What may I do for you?"
"We require passage to Middle Earth," Glorfindel stated.
The king's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Middle Earth? Why would you want to go there?"
"Personal business," Glorfindel returned without missing a beat. "My companion wishes to accompany me out of curiosity."
"I suppose I could arrange you passage on one of our trading ships," Tar-Elendil said thoughtfully. "Would that be acceptable?"
"Perfectly. I thank you, lord," Glorfindel replied, inclining his head once more.
"There is a ship leaving tomorrow that I believe will have some room to spare."
"We will be ready."
Glorfindel and Gildor bowed their heads once more and turning around, exited the Hall.
Tar-Elendil sat on his throne for a little while longer, musing about why the Elves would be returning to Middle Earth. 'Would others be following them?' he wondered. And then as he got up to leave, the king realized that he did not even know the identities of these two Elves.
The captain of the Spindrift watched the two golden-haired Elves board his ship. Some of his sailors stared at them and whispered among themselves, wondering what the Elves were doing here. One of the Elves caught the captain's eye and made his way over to him.
"Captain," the Elf greeted him. "I believe the king arranged our passage on your ship?"
"That is correct," the captain replied, nodding briskly. "I regret to inform you that due to short notice, there are no extra cabins for you and your companion, however one of my men can give up his berth for this trip."
"That will be unnecessary, Captain," Glorfindel smoothly interrupted, noticing the reluctance on the man's face. "We are perfectly all right sleeping on blankets outside."
The captain thanked them for being accommodating, and asked the Elves if they would join him for dinner. They accepted and then made their way over to one side of the ship so they could have private converse.
"Well, this ship certainly is not as well-built as those of the Teleri, but it will do," Gildor said, his eyes roving over the ship.
His knowledge of ships was scant, so Glorfindel merely nodded in agreement.
"Must they stare at us so?" Gildor asked a moment later in annoyance, motioning to a couple of sailors who were alternating between knotting ropes and stealing glances at the two Elves. "I'm sure they've seen Elves before."
"Yes," Glorfindel said, his eyes following where Gildor's hand pointed, "but they have probably never seen us so closely before, and I doubt they have ever seen any Vanyar Elves. Most likely the Noldor are the only ones they have encountered."
"The only physical differences between the Noldor and the Vanyar are the color of their eyes and hair" Gildor replied impatiently. "Why should our hair color make them stare? If I were to dye it black, would they stop staring?"
Glorfindel smiled in amusement. "I doubt it. We are something new and interesting and that is why they stare. And I don't believe black hair would become you. I suggest leaving it its natural hue."
Gildor laughed. "Don't worry. I wasn't planning on changing it."
'Especially if it pleases you,' Gildor thought to himself, his gaze drawn to Glorfindel's sculpted features.
Ever since he had met Glorfindel in the gardens of Lorien, Gildor had been in love with him. He loved everything about the Elf-lord, his grace, his power, and his inner strength, not to mention his handsome face. Gildor had never approached Glorfindel with his feelings, deeming that Glorfindel would not accept one as young as the son of Finrod. Gildor had kept his distance, until that one night. When he had danced with Glorfindel, he felt intoxicated, the music seeming to course through his whole being, bringing him alive. When the dance was over, with the blood pounding in his veins, Gildor, aching for the Elf lord, had watched as his hand seemed to rise of its own accord and stroke Glorfindel's skin. He remembered the look of surprise and, Gildor thought he detected it, a hint of something else in Glorfindel's eyes. When Glorfindel had quickly left, Gildor went off by himself and took a few calming breaths. Berating himself for his stupidity, Gildor had replayed the events in his mind. That other emotion he had seen made no sense, so he brushed it off as his imagination trying to come up with something, anything, that would give him hope that Glorfindel returned his feelings. He had never felt so mortified in his whole life. Gildor had wanted to apologize to Glorfindel, but since the older Elf seemed to be ignoring the incident, Gildor didn't see the need to bring it back up. It was fine with him if both of them just forgot about it.
Returning back to the present, Gildor realized that Glorfindel had just said something to him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said," Glorfindel reiterated in amusement, "that I believe it's time that we met the captain for dinner."
"We've really been sailing that long?" Gildor asked in surprise, looking up to check the sun.
"We didn't leave the dock until late afternoon," Glorfindel replied. "It hasn't been long."
Shrugging, Gildor followed Glorfindel to the captain's cabin.
When the two Elves had been seated at the table, dinner was brought in. It was simple, but hearty fare, consisting of a seafood soup, bread, and wine. After the dinner the captain invited them to sit on a comfortable couch, while he took a cushioned chair. Sighing comfortably, the captain lit his pipe and took a deep pull on it, exhaling the smoke. Gildor wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell, but made no comment. The silence between the three of them stretched on, and Gildor amusedly wondered if the captain was trying to make them uncomfortable for some reason. If so it wasn't going to work. Elves were very patient and could outwait anyone.
The captain finally broke the silence, starting to look uncomfortable himself. "We should reach Middle Earth in a couple of days, if this wind keeps up. Is there any place in particular you wish to go? I may be able to arrange transport for you."
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at the captain's fishing. "As I told your king, it is personal business."
As the captain continued along this line of questioning, Gildor could see Glorfindel becoming more and more annoyed. Finally Glorfindel put an end to it with a curt word, and stood up to leave. Taking his cue, Gildor stood up as well and followed the older Elf out.
"He must be the most persistent Man I have ever met," Glorfindel said in exasperation, once the two of them had reached their sleeping area. "His questions were beginning to border on rudeness."
"The king must be very interested in why we are returning to Middle Earth," Gildor remarked. "The captain was probably ordered to find out as much as he could."
Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "If he's worried about more Elves returning to Middle Earth and usurping the lands of Men or some such thing, he needn't be. But I'm not going to tell that impertinent pup of a captain anything."
Gildor smirked. "He probably doesn't even realize how absolutely ancient you are."
"Go to sleep, you young whelp," Glorfindel ordered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Gildor supressed a yawn. "Whatever you say O Ancient One, Slayer of the Balrog, whose wisdom surpasses all. . ."
He would have continued, but Glorfindel had stifled his litany with a blanket.
"Be quiet and go to sleep or I will toss you overboard," Gildor heard whispered in his ear.
Mumbling his compliance, Gildor turned over on his side and let his eyes glaze over in Elvish sleep, feeling Glorfindel go still next to him as well.
Glorfindel was awakened the next morning by the sound of voices whispering.
"Their eyes are all glazed over."
"They look dead."
"Don't be an idiot. Haven't you ever heard of how Elves sleep with their eyes open?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't look like sleeping to me. It doesn't even look like they're breathing."
"Go check their pulse."
"Me? I'm not touching them, you go."
At this point, Glorfindel, with a sigh, allowed his eyes to come back into focus, showing him a group of about four sailors, standing a couple feet away, arguing.
"Excuse me," Glorfindel said, sitting up.
The men quickly turned and two of them gaped, while one surreptitiously made the sign against evil. The fourth one glared at his comrades as if to say, See? I told you so.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" Glorfindel asked.
"No, lord," the fourth sailor said, stepping forward. "It's just that my comrades came out here and believed that you were dead. I told them how Elves sleep with their eyes open, but they wouldn't believe me."
"You are quite correct," Glorfindel said, getting to his feet. "Mature Elves almost always sleep with their eyes open."
"We apologize for disturbing you," the fourth sailor said, bowing.
"No need to," Glorfindel said briskly, "I usually wake at first light."
When the men had left, Glorfindel turned to Gildor and nudged him with his foot.
"I know you are awake. Why didn't you get up when you heard the men?"
Gildor's eyes cleared and he slowly sat up, stretching. "I was in the middle of a dream and I wasn't going to rouse myself over them. I figured you would handle it."
Giving a sigh, Glorfindel shook his head in exasperation and went to go find breakfast.
The next night Gildor awoke, feeling restless. Standing and stretching, he looked up at the reassuring glow of Ithil. Wandering over to the side of the ship, he leaned against the railing and took a deep breath of the cool sea air. A strange scent in the wind caught Gildor's attention, and he stiffened slightly. Peering with keen eyes out to the horizon, he nodded slightly to himself in confirmation. Knowing that this was part of the cause of his restlessness, Gildor decided to refresh himself with a quick swim. Jumping up on the railing, he stood lightly there for a moment and then decided it would be best to dive in at the prow so the ship would not pass him by while he was in the water. As he neared the prow, a shout caused him to turn. The sailor who was on watch had caught sight of him and was hurrying toward him.
"What are you doing?! You're going to fall overboard!"
Gildor turned a puzzled look on the man. "I'm not going to fall anywhere."
The sailor's shout had wakened Glorfindel who immediately leapt to his feet. The captain also came tumbling out of his cabin, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"What's going on?" the captain demanded.
"The Elf, sir," the sailor responded. "He's walking along the railing, and I was afraid he was going to fall overboard."
Gildor had by this time reached the prow and was deftly balancing there. He seemed to be intently looking down at the sea, and then he kicked his boots off and without any warning, made a graceful swan dive into the water. The captain and sailor rushed over to the edge and searched for the Elf, while Glorfindel strode unconcernedly over to join them, not worried about the younger Elf.
It seemed as though Gildor had disappeared beneath the waves, and the two Men searched for him frantically with their eyes.
"Don't be concerned," Glorfindel told them. "He'll be back up when he's done."
Sure enough, Gildor's head reappeared and he hauled himself up a rope dangling over the side of the ship.
"Have a refreshing swim?" Glorfindel asked sardonically when Gildor was once again on the deck, water pooling around his feet.
Strands of wet hair were plastered on Gildor's face, and he flicked them off before replying. "Quite. I was restless and decided to cool off."
"By the way," he said turning to the captain, "a storm should be upon us tomorrow about late afternoon, and it's going to be a rough one."
"Have someone confirm that," the captain told the sailor, who hurried off to obey.
In the meantime, Glorfindel led Gildor back to their sleeping area and gave him a blanket to towel the water off him. Glorfindel tried not to stare at Gildor too much, as the younger Elf's wet clothes clung to all the right places on his body, accentuating everything.
"Was that really necessary?" Glorfindel asked, referring to Gildor's recent swim. "You are far too impetuous."
"I was restless, and the ship was beginning to feel confining. I felt a great need to get off, if only for a moment," Gildor replied, squeezing water out of his hair.
"I, too, do not like being aboard ship for any length of time, but you are old enough to control your passions," Glorfindel said sternly.
"Perhaps," Gildor replied, giving Glorfindel an unreadable look. "But passion is a good thing too. Sometimes it must be let free or the people holding it inside shall go mad. After all, without our passion, we are not Elves. Our passion is what makes us.
"Passion brought the Noldor to grief," Glorfindel said softly, remembering. "Passion brought only pain."
"Not only pain," Gildor insisted. "I have learned the history from my father. It was not only pain. And all these passions, all these experiences, shaped the Noldor, and I believe that in the end it has enriched them, made them a wiser people. Wiser, I think, than many of the Vanyar who reside in Valinor, for they have not experienced such things."
"Perhaps," Glorfindel said, looking thoughtful. "There is some truth in what you say, but wait until you have spent over a millennium in Middle Earth, and we shall see what you have to say then."
The Elf lord gave a sideways look to his companion. "I see that your Noldor blood burns hot within you, though you have more Vanyar. Take care, though, lest you be burned."
Gildor gave Glorfindel another hooded look, and then gathering up dry clothes, went to change, and as he left Glorfindel heard a faint whisper, "Sometimes it must be let free," leaving the Elf lord to ponder the hidden meanings of their conversation.
Finch: Actually I didn't know that. I haven't gotten around to reading all of the HoME so I was basing it on Morgoth's Ring where it said Elves were reborn. Thanks for telling me.
Glorfindel woke the next morning with the rising of the sun. After dressing in a tunic and loose pants tucked into his calf length boots, Glorfindel walked down the hall to the dining room and stepped into the medium sized room containing a large bay window that presented a splendid view of the sea. Finrod and Gildor were already seated at the table and Glorfindel could see that they were once more arguing, albeit in a more subdued manner.
Finrod shook his head in exasperation and turned to look at Glorfindel.
"It seems that nothing will sway my headstrong son. He is determined to go."
"Nothing anyone can say will change my mind," Gildor affirmed, his face set.
"Gildor wishes to sail to Numenor and from there on to Middle Earth with you, Glorfindel. Please watch out for him," Finrod requested, fatherly concern in his eyes.
"I shall," Glorfindel promised, looking at Gildor out of the corner of his eye.
Gildor wisely said nothing about not needing a protector. He had achieved his goal and other matters could be worked out later.
Amarie joined them in a few moments, and she was unsurprised to hear of her husband's failed attempts to dissuade their son.
"He is quite old enough to make his own decisions," Amarie told Glorfindel, out of earshot of Finrod. "I tried to convince him to stay at first, but he insisted, and so I will let him go. It is a difficult thing for any mother to do, but my son has inherited the wisdom of his father. He will be fine."
Glorfindel privately tended to agree with Amarie, although he did think that Gildor was unprepared for what awaited him in Middle Earth. 'If he has the resilience and strength of his father, he will adapt quickly,' Glorfindel thought to himself. If not, well Gildor might be returning to Valinor sooner than he thought, to the Halls of Mandos.
The ship sailing to Numenor was scheduled to leave in an hour, so after breakfast, Glorfindel went back up to his room and searched through his bag to make sure he had brought everything he desired. Not wanting to burden himself with too much, Glorfindel had packed a few clothes along with some personal effects. Slinging the bag over one shoulder, Glorfindel went to the front door and found Finrod and his family waiting to escort him to the dock.
When they reached the docks, Glorfindel and Gildor handed their bags to the Elves who were already loading the boat. Both Elves received strong hugs from Finrod and Amari? and Finrod once more sternly reminded his son to be on his guard. Middle Earth was not as safe as Valinor. Gildor nodded in agreement and tried not to roll his eyes, being too old for that, while Glorfindel hid a slight smile.
Then it was time to leave and Glorfindel and Gildor were waving farewell to the rapidly diminishing figures of Finrod and Amarie as well as some other Elves that had come to see them off.
When the Elves' ship reached the shores of Numenor, Glorfindel and Gildor came up on deck to get their first view of this land of Men. The coastline was quite rocky, the bay they were sailing into being one of the few places suitable for coming ashore. Patches of green could be seen farther inland, indicating verdant forests.
"If the Numenoreans were ever attacked they could easily defend this place," Glorfindel commented, looking over the island with a practiced eye. "The coastline makes it almost impossible for any kind of invasion fleet to dispatch its men."
"Is that all you think about?" Gildor asked in amazement. "What about its beauty?"
"I see that as well," Glorfindel said with a grin, "but I have always been a warrior and the first thing I look at in any new place is how defensible it is. When you lived in Middle Earth in the First Age, things like that were constantly on your mind."
"I suppose they were," Gildor acknowledged. "Though I do not think the Eastern Lands will be as perilous as when you resided there."
"Let us hope so."
The ship was greeted at the dock by a crowd of people who waved at the Elves on deck.
"These are many of the people that we come here to teach," one of the Elves murmured in Glorfindel's ear.
Glorfindel nodded in understanding. He knew that for a few years now, some of the Elves of Valinor been visiting Numenor to impart their knowledge to Men.
When they reached the dock, Glorfindel and Gildor, with their bags slung over their shoulders, disembarked. Shouldering their way through the crowd, ignoring questions flung at them, they finally broke away from the crush of people.
"Are Men always so loud?" Gildor asked Glorfindel in Quenya.
"No," Glorfindel replied, in the same language. "Just when they become excited."
Gildor seemed to be ignoring the incident that had occurred between them in Valinor, and Glorfindel was perfectly willing to do the same. It made it easier to talk to the younger Elf.
"Where are we going next?" Gildor asked, looking around in curiosity.
"To the king, to arrange our passage to Middle Earth," Glorfindel answered.
Tar-Elendil was surprised when a man came to fetch him in the library.
"I thought I said I was not to be disturbed," Tar-Elendil sternly told the messenger.
"Apologies, Lord," the messenger said, bowing his head, "but two Elves have requested to see you. They seemed important so I deemed it best to tell you."
"I will receive them in the Great Hall," Tar-Elendil replied, sighing in resignation.
The messenger bowed and departed to relay the message to the two Elves.
When Glorfindel entered the Hall, his eyes were drawn to the Man sitting in a chair on a raised dais, a few attendants standing on either side.
"I presume that you are King," Glorfindel addressed Tar-Elendil, inclining his head in respect.
Gildor did likewise while Tar-Elendil scrutinized his two guests. Both of them had the tall, slender build of the Elves, as well as golden hair, which slightly surprised him as he was used to the dark-haired Noldor more frequently visiting Numenor. The king gathered from the way they carried themselves that both of them were lords, although the slightly taller of the two radiated a sense of hidden power and majesty that the younger looking Elf lacked. Not that he could judge from their looks how old they were, the king thought amusedly, as Elves never aged.
"It is an honor to have you visit us, lords. My name is Tar-Elendil and I welcome you to Numenor," Tar-Elendil replied. "What may I do for you?"
"We require passage to Middle Earth," Glorfindel stated.
The king's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Middle Earth? Why would you want to go there?"
"Personal business," Glorfindel returned without missing a beat. "My companion wishes to accompany me out of curiosity."
"I suppose I could arrange you passage on one of our trading ships," Tar-Elendil said thoughtfully. "Would that be acceptable?"
"Perfectly. I thank you, lord," Glorfindel replied, inclining his head once more.
"There is a ship leaving tomorrow that I believe will have some room to spare."
"We will be ready."
Glorfindel and Gildor bowed their heads once more and turning around, exited the Hall.
Tar-Elendil sat on his throne for a little while longer, musing about why the Elves would be returning to Middle Earth. 'Would others be following them?' he wondered. And then as he got up to leave, the king realized that he did not even know the identities of these two Elves.
The captain of the Spindrift watched the two golden-haired Elves board his ship. Some of his sailors stared at them and whispered among themselves, wondering what the Elves were doing here. One of the Elves caught the captain's eye and made his way over to him.
"Captain," the Elf greeted him. "I believe the king arranged our passage on your ship?"
"That is correct," the captain replied, nodding briskly. "I regret to inform you that due to short notice, there are no extra cabins for you and your companion, however one of my men can give up his berth for this trip."
"That will be unnecessary, Captain," Glorfindel smoothly interrupted, noticing the reluctance on the man's face. "We are perfectly all right sleeping on blankets outside."
The captain thanked them for being accommodating, and asked the Elves if they would join him for dinner. They accepted and then made their way over to one side of the ship so they could have private converse.
"Well, this ship certainly is not as well-built as those of the Teleri, but it will do," Gildor said, his eyes roving over the ship.
His knowledge of ships was scant, so Glorfindel merely nodded in agreement.
"Must they stare at us so?" Gildor asked a moment later in annoyance, motioning to a couple of sailors who were alternating between knotting ropes and stealing glances at the two Elves. "I'm sure they've seen Elves before."
"Yes," Glorfindel said, his eyes following where Gildor's hand pointed, "but they have probably never seen us so closely before, and I doubt they have ever seen any Vanyar Elves. Most likely the Noldor are the only ones they have encountered."
"The only physical differences between the Noldor and the Vanyar are the color of their eyes and hair" Gildor replied impatiently. "Why should our hair color make them stare? If I were to dye it black, would they stop staring?"
Glorfindel smiled in amusement. "I doubt it. We are something new and interesting and that is why they stare. And I don't believe black hair would become you. I suggest leaving it its natural hue."
Gildor laughed. "Don't worry. I wasn't planning on changing it."
'Especially if it pleases you,' Gildor thought to himself, his gaze drawn to Glorfindel's sculpted features.
Ever since he had met Glorfindel in the gardens of Lorien, Gildor had been in love with him. He loved everything about the Elf-lord, his grace, his power, and his inner strength, not to mention his handsome face. Gildor had never approached Glorfindel with his feelings, deeming that Glorfindel would not accept one as young as the son of Finrod. Gildor had kept his distance, until that one night. When he had danced with Glorfindel, he felt intoxicated, the music seeming to course through his whole being, bringing him alive. When the dance was over, with the blood pounding in his veins, Gildor, aching for the Elf lord, had watched as his hand seemed to rise of its own accord and stroke Glorfindel's skin. He remembered the look of surprise and, Gildor thought he detected it, a hint of something else in Glorfindel's eyes. When Glorfindel had quickly left, Gildor went off by himself and took a few calming breaths. Berating himself for his stupidity, Gildor had replayed the events in his mind. That other emotion he had seen made no sense, so he brushed it off as his imagination trying to come up with something, anything, that would give him hope that Glorfindel returned his feelings. He had never felt so mortified in his whole life. Gildor had wanted to apologize to Glorfindel, but since the older Elf seemed to be ignoring the incident, Gildor didn't see the need to bring it back up. It was fine with him if both of them just forgot about it.
Returning back to the present, Gildor realized that Glorfindel had just said something to him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said," Glorfindel reiterated in amusement, "that I believe it's time that we met the captain for dinner."
"We've really been sailing that long?" Gildor asked in surprise, looking up to check the sun.
"We didn't leave the dock until late afternoon," Glorfindel replied. "It hasn't been long."
Shrugging, Gildor followed Glorfindel to the captain's cabin.
When the two Elves had been seated at the table, dinner was brought in. It was simple, but hearty fare, consisting of a seafood soup, bread, and wine. After the dinner the captain invited them to sit on a comfortable couch, while he took a cushioned chair. Sighing comfortably, the captain lit his pipe and took a deep pull on it, exhaling the smoke. Gildor wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell, but made no comment. The silence between the three of them stretched on, and Gildor amusedly wondered if the captain was trying to make them uncomfortable for some reason. If so it wasn't going to work. Elves were very patient and could outwait anyone.
The captain finally broke the silence, starting to look uncomfortable himself. "We should reach Middle Earth in a couple of days, if this wind keeps up. Is there any place in particular you wish to go? I may be able to arrange transport for you."
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at the captain's fishing. "As I told your king, it is personal business."
As the captain continued along this line of questioning, Gildor could see Glorfindel becoming more and more annoyed. Finally Glorfindel put an end to it with a curt word, and stood up to leave. Taking his cue, Gildor stood up as well and followed the older Elf out.
"He must be the most persistent Man I have ever met," Glorfindel said in exasperation, once the two of them had reached their sleeping area. "His questions were beginning to border on rudeness."
"The king must be very interested in why we are returning to Middle Earth," Gildor remarked. "The captain was probably ordered to find out as much as he could."
Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "If he's worried about more Elves returning to Middle Earth and usurping the lands of Men or some such thing, he needn't be. But I'm not going to tell that impertinent pup of a captain anything."
Gildor smirked. "He probably doesn't even realize how absolutely ancient you are."
"Go to sleep, you young whelp," Glorfindel ordered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Gildor supressed a yawn. "Whatever you say O Ancient One, Slayer of the Balrog, whose wisdom surpasses all. . ."
He would have continued, but Glorfindel had stifled his litany with a blanket.
"Be quiet and go to sleep or I will toss you overboard," Gildor heard whispered in his ear.
Mumbling his compliance, Gildor turned over on his side and let his eyes glaze over in Elvish sleep, feeling Glorfindel go still next to him as well.
Glorfindel was awakened the next morning by the sound of voices whispering.
"Their eyes are all glazed over."
"They look dead."
"Don't be an idiot. Haven't you ever heard of how Elves sleep with their eyes open?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't look like sleeping to me. It doesn't even look like they're breathing."
"Go check their pulse."
"Me? I'm not touching them, you go."
At this point, Glorfindel, with a sigh, allowed his eyes to come back into focus, showing him a group of about four sailors, standing a couple feet away, arguing.
"Excuse me," Glorfindel said, sitting up.
The men quickly turned and two of them gaped, while one surreptitiously made the sign against evil. The fourth one glared at his comrades as if to say, See? I told you so.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" Glorfindel asked.
"No, lord," the fourth sailor said, stepping forward. "It's just that my comrades came out here and believed that you were dead. I told them how Elves sleep with their eyes open, but they wouldn't believe me."
"You are quite correct," Glorfindel said, getting to his feet. "Mature Elves almost always sleep with their eyes open."
"We apologize for disturbing you," the fourth sailor said, bowing.
"No need to," Glorfindel said briskly, "I usually wake at first light."
When the men had left, Glorfindel turned to Gildor and nudged him with his foot.
"I know you are awake. Why didn't you get up when you heard the men?"
Gildor's eyes cleared and he slowly sat up, stretching. "I was in the middle of a dream and I wasn't going to rouse myself over them. I figured you would handle it."
Giving a sigh, Glorfindel shook his head in exasperation and went to go find breakfast.
The next night Gildor awoke, feeling restless. Standing and stretching, he looked up at the reassuring glow of Ithil. Wandering over to the side of the ship, he leaned against the railing and took a deep breath of the cool sea air. A strange scent in the wind caught Gildor's attention, and he stiffened slightly. Peering with keen eyes out to the horizon, he nodded slightly to himself in confirmation. Knowing that this was part of the cause of his restlessness, Gildor decided to refresh himself with a quick swim. Jumping up on the railing, he stood lightly there for a moment and then decided it would be best to dive in at the prow so the ship would not pass him by while he was in the water. As he neared the prow, a shout caused him to turn. The sailor who was on watch had caught sight of him and was hurrying toward him.
"What are you doing?! You're going to fall overboard!"
Gildor turned a puzzled look on the man. "I'm not going to fall anywhere."
The sailor's shout had wakened Glorfindel who immediately leapt to his feet. The captain also came tumbling out of his cabin, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"What's going on?" the captain demanded.
"The Elf, sir," the sailor responded. "He's walking along the railing, and I was afraid he was going to fall overboard."
Gildor had by this time reached the prow and was deftly balancing there. He seemed to be intently looking down at the sea, and then he kicked his boots off and without any warning, made a graceful swan dive into the water. The captain and sailor rushed over to the edge and searched for the Elf, while Glorfindel strode unconcernedly over to join them, not worried about the younger Elf.
It seemed as though Gildor had disappeared beneath the waves, and the two Men searched for him frantically with their eyes.
"Don't be concerned," Glorfindel told them. "He'll be back up when he's done."
Sure enough, Gildor's head reappeared and he hauled himself up a rope dangling over the side of the ship.
"Have a refreshing swim?" Glorfindel asked sardonically when Gildor was once again on the deck, water pooling around his feet.
Strands of wet hair were plastered on Gildor's face, and he flicked them off before replying. "Quite. I was restless and decided to cool off."
"By the way," he said turning to the captain, "a storm should be upon us tomorrow about late afternoon, and it's going to be a rough one."
"Have someone confirm that," the captain told the sailor, who hurried off to obey.
In the meantime, Glorfindel led Gildor back to their sleeping area and gave him a blanket to towel the water off him. Glorfindel tried not to stare at Gildor too much, as the younger Elf's wet clothes clung to all the right places on his body, accentuating everything.
"Was that really necessary?" Glorfindel asked, referring to Gildor's recent swim. "You are far too impetuous."
"I was restless, and the ship was beginning to feel confining. I felt a great need to get off, if only for a moment," Gildor replied, squeezing water out of his hair.
"I, too, do not like being aboard ship for any length of time, but you are old enough to control your passions," Glorfindel said sternly.
"Perhaps," Gildor replied, giving Glorfindel an unreadable look. "But passion is a good thing too. Sometimes it must be let free or the people holding it inside shall go mad. After all, without our passion, we are not Elves. Our passion is what makes us.
"Passion brought the Noldor to grief," Glorfindel said softly, remembering. "Passion brought only pain."
"Not only pain," Gildor insisted. "I have learned the history from my father. It was not only pain. And all these passions, all these experiences, shaped the Noldor, and I believe that in the end it has enriched them, made them a wiser people. Wiser, I think, than many of the Vanyar who reside in Valinor, for they have not experienced such things."
"Perhaps," Glorfindel said, looking thoughtful. "There is some truth in what you say, but wait until you have spent over a millennium in Middle Earth, and we shall see what you have to say then."
The Elf lord gave a sideways look to his companion. "I see that your Noldor blood burns hot within you, though you have more Vanyar. Take care, though, lest you be burned."
Gildor gave Glorfindel another hooded look, and then gathering up dry clothes, went to change, and as he left Glorfindel heard a faint whisper, "Sometimes it must be let free," leaving the Elf lord to ponder the hidden meanings of their conversation.