In the matter of the wolves, Glorfindel tried not to form an opinion. There was a danger, a threat, and it had to be stopped. What opinion could be formed from that? So, he also tended to keep his council to himself.
But someway, his instincts trickled through his aloofness. And those instincts insisted that no enemy was invulnerable, no matter how massive it was. No wolf pack could attack, and kill, and continue on its way without losing members.
When they reached a farm house (the fourth or fifth on a long list, Glorfindel knew), and Legolas took three others to question the landlord, he urged Asfaloth away, telling one of the other Elves that he wished to explore with Asfaloth.
He felt the change in temperature the instant Asfaloth carried him under the eaves of a pine forest. It was pungent and moist there; he felt the water in the air, and smelled it in the soft mud under the horse's hooves.
As they traveled, it grew colder. Glorfindel wondered if the woods were really that much thicker, for he did not think the hour to be more than half past one. The sun had far to go, surely, before setting.
Dizziness came over him, and Asfaloth slowed when he sensed it. Glorfindel groaned in spite of himself and willed the swimming darkness to leave him. His hand dropped, and when his head had cleared and steadied, he felt a warmth amidst the chill air of the forest. It was a sickening, thick warmth, like placing your hand in spilled broth.
Glorfindel turned his face towards it, expecting to hear whatever it was rather than see it. Asfaloth tensed and snorted angrily, and the Elf heard a soft whimper, disguised beneath a savage growl.
He tightened his grip on Asfaloth's reigns, and then lowered himself from the safety of Asfaloth onto his own feet. The snarls became fiercer, and Glorfindel hoped he wasn't only imagining the confused undertones in it. He placed one foot closer towards the wolf. The animal snarled obstinately, but Glorfindel was fearless where he stood.
Asfaloth seemed ready to lunge at the wolf, until the Elf murmured, "Law, Asfaloth, aniron govad sen gaul. Maen draug... gosta men, ar inc nin harn e."
This said, though it did not calm Asfaloth, Glorfindel stepped forward again; two more steps and his fingertips would not be able to brush his saddle. The wolf had quieted some, but had not moved, and Glorfindel doubted that it felt any friendlier towards him.
"Sh. Sidh, coth nin. Togin law naeg den." He half crouched, feeling with one hand the ground in front of him; he was taking a risk already in getting this close, but it could mean his death if he were to trip and fall on it. "Im harn, gaul; aniron law breged, edregol law o edh, u-nagidh nin."
The snarls had ceased; but whether that was because of Elves' uncanny way with animals, or because the wolf was hoping Glorfindel would forget it was there, none could say.
Glorfindel crept closer still.
"There have been cases of wolves slaughtering whole flocks of sheep," a man of Rohan was saying, as he, a Silvan Elf, Legolas, and one of the soldiers of Gondor left the farmhouse. "They are fortunate that these wolves only took four head."
"And their dogs, and one of their sons," the other soldier growled.
"We do not know that their son is dead," Legolas answered. "They searched the woods for miles about, and found no trace of him; no blood and no footprints."
"They also didn't find the wolves, which means they probably went back to their master," the Silvan Elf put in. "Our horses are ready to continue, if you are."
Legolas stopped and looked about himself. "Where is Glorfindel?"
The other Elf frowned and also looked around, as if realizing for the first time that they were missing a member of the company. "I do not know; I didn't notice where he went off to."
"He is not in the field," Legolas said. "Question the others, perhaps one of them knows whither he went."
Glorfindel reached out his hand; he wasn't entirely sure where the wolf was, but he knew he was within a few feet of its snout. He could feel its breath as it cautiously sniffed his hand. He felt no trust in it, even when it stopped snarling, aside from an occasional soft rumble deep in it's throat. He remembered the dried meat in Asfaloth's saddle pack, and wondered if it might help this along.
As he pulled his hand back so that he could go and retrieve the food, the wolf snarled, and lunged, and ripped his hand open with an easy clip of its fangs.
Glorfindel grunted in pain and retreated, stumbling back into Asfaloth. The horse was angry, and his natural hatred of the wolf was only deepened by this new insult. Glorfindel held him at bay with words, and eventually, reluctantly, Asfaloth stayed still.
Glorfindel sighed and touched his wound gingerly; it was deeper than it was long, but ironically, the fair Elf smiled. "You did not break the bones, as you could have... and perhaps you can not leap high enough, if you are injured, but neither did you try to get at my throat. I fear you less now than I did when I first came across you."
With his good hand, he pulled the meat out and tossed it into the bushes, in the wolf's direction. He heard the wolf pick it up and eat it. "I think they are worried for me now," he murmured. "Perhaps we ought to head back, Asfaloth."
He tossed the last of the meat to the wolf, waited until he heard it greedily devoured, and climbed slowly into the saddle. "Pado, Asfaloth," he said quietly, and the white stallion turned back along the way they had come. He heard the wolf limp after them.
It was not the custom of wild wolves to leave one of their own behind, and he wondered at this wolf. The training must have banished those instincts from the pack. It was not uncommon. Sauron's wargs had become as vicious and self-serving as any servant of Mordor.
Or, perhaps this wasn't a wolf. Glorfindel thought that it was, but how could he be certain? Unless he touched its pelt, he could only guess. And even when he did know whether or not it was a wolf, how was he to tell if it was one that he now hunted?
The creature continued to follow them. "If you come too near to my people, they will kill you," he said to it. "But I will try to dissuade them, if you follow me so far."
"Legolas, si im," Glorfindel said, when he heard what sounded like Arod's footfall.
"Glorfindel," Legolas said, riding closer. "Is anything the matter?"
"No, but tell me; is this a wolf I have with me?" He dreaded the answer.
Legolas drew in his breath. "Yes. And she is of like color, and with the same metal chain about her neck as those that we hunt. Did you find her pack, or hear them?"
"Nay, and do not draw your weapons," Glorfindel said, and heard Legolas slowly place an arrow back in his quiver. "I think she has been abandoned, for she is injured."
Legolas spoke softly, "I see the gash, on her leg. It is deep, and bleeds still, though it looks to me several hours old, if not more."
"I thought as much. Help me, I wish to dress the wound." Legolas did not protest, though Glorfindel was aware that he wanted to.
"You are bleeding as well, Glorfindel."
"Yea, I know, but I will tend that later." The two Elves dismounted; the wolf growled low in her throat. "Do you have food to spare, Legolas?"
The prince opened his saddle pack and tossed what he found to the wolf. She gulped the food down as if she had been hungry for days. Then she waited for more, still watching the Elves cautiously.
Legolas shook his head. "What are we to do, Glorfindel? She will not let us get close."
Glorfindel thought in silence. "Asfaloth," he called, and the horse nudged his elbow. Glorfindel smiled faintly, and unclipped the lead rope from the bridle. "We will tie her with this."
Legolas sighed and nodded. "Very well." He took the slender rope and tied it into a slipknot. "Distract her, and I will do my best to get this around her snout."
The wolf was a pack hunter; she was wary of Legolas, but when she turned to Glorfindel, she trusted in the absent wolves to guard her back, and it was not very difficult for Legolas to trap her with the lead rope.
Still, when Legolas did get her mouth tied securely shut, it was a struggle to control her. But since the wolf could only stand on three legs, the Elves were able to pull her onto her side, where she would have less control of the cord.
Glorfindel held her feet down, while Legolas knelt on the rope, which kept the wolf's face down, and began to clean the leg wound. When he was finished, he wrapped it with old cloth from Arod's saddle bag.
Legolas frowned. "Now what? If we release it..."
"Keep the rope on her; tie it around the back of her head, and I will lead her without fear of being bitten," Glorfindel said.
Apprehensively, but unwilling to ask the older Elf's purpose in all of this, Legolas did as he was told. "It is done," he said as he gave Glorfindel the end of the rope. "And I have kept the metal chain."
"Does it bear any markings, or tags?"
"A flat piece of gold is attached; perhaps it is a coin, smoothed out. It has two numbers, one on each side." Legolas examined it. "But nothing more."
The wolf had recovered her footing. She glared up at Glorfindel, and sprang; Asfaloth reacted before she was more than six inches off the ground, and hit her hard. The wolf yelped, rolled, and lay in surprise on the forest floor.
"Thank you," Glorfindel said, laying a hand on Asfaloth's neck. He pulled on the rope, and the wolf got to her feet. "You ought to show more consideration to those who help you, draug."
"If you intend to bring her with us, you realize she will slow us down," Legolas said.
"Perhaps, but we aren't leaving tonight. Or am I wrong?"
"No, you were right, I was planning to leave tomorrow morning."
Glorfindel nodded in satisfaction. "Then tonight she will gather strength for travel."
Glorfindel kept the wolf tied near his bed. She was frightened, Legolas could tell, but he could also sense the hostility towards her. The company probably assumed they were going to use the wolf to lure out the enemy. For the wolf's safety, Legolas did nothing to correct that notion.
Glorfindel soaked his wounded hand in water the lady of the house had given him. Legolas sat near the other Elves and sang with them, and Glorfindel joined them when he was finished dressing his hand.
The men kept to themselves mostly, and shared stories. Occasionally, they would take turns guessing at how old each Elf was.
"Legolas," a man of Gondor asked at last. "Tell us, and settle this debate; how old are you?"
The prince smiled slightly. "Much older than you. After a time, the years mean less to us than they do to you. I have seen almost three thousand years, and still I am one of the youngest Elves present."
"But," Rigwanig said with a laugh. "I hold claim to being the youngest. I have but seven hundred years."
"Ah, only that, you say?" a Rider of Rohan laughed. "Then who among us is the oldest?"
A brief silence fell. The Elves exchanged glances, and the men wondered if they had erred in their questions.
"Glorfindel, I believe, is the oldest," Emlich, Rigwanig's father, answered.
"Glorfindel?" one of the Rohirrim said thoughtfully. "Thy name is familiar, Glorfindel; how many years do you have?"
"Quite a few more than you have guessed tonight, if you were to count the time between my birth and this day. I was born in the First Age; I grew to adulthood during those years."
"He also fought then," Rigwanig added. "He slew one of the Balrogs of Morgoth."
Glorfindel shook his head. "You forget, pen neth, that it 'slew' me as well."
The young Elf countered, "But I remember that you and Mithrandir alone have returned from such a battle."
"Yes," Glorfindel murmured. "So I have."
"Tell me about Senia," Aragorn said. Iryel had taken him back to her home, thinking to give him supper. Aragorn had other plans, the first of which was to meet her brother and then take them to where he was staying.
The child was pinning the dirty blankets up to air them out, and placing the newer ones on the floor where she and her brother slept. "What do you want to know?"
"Was she a friend of your parents?"
"Oh, no. They knew each other, though not very well." Iryel pulled up a floorboard and stashed the food away. "She came once or twice before the big men did; after mummy and daddy went away, she helped to take care of all of us."
Senia's accent was very much like Iryel's, but with a faint lilt on the end of her sentences. Perhaps that was what unsettled the King about her. Vel's companion had had the same manner of speech, only far more pronounced, and the memory of his meeting with the two Laskanik men was still fresh in his mind.
Yet if Senia was from Laskan, for what purpose was she here now? Would Vel murder even the children? Aragorn would have been inclined to believe Senia had been sent to watch himself and his men, but Vel couldn't have known a year before that the King of Gondor would return, and shortly after taking the throne, would come to Gancuron.
"Estel, this is Tulian, my brother." Iryel stood behind a child, even smaller than her, but he was cleaner at the least. "Tulian, this is Estel of Gondor."
"I am happy to meet you, Tulian," Aragorn said, giving him a warm smile.
Tulian smiled back, and his lacked the sadness his sister carried. "Are you here for dinner?" he turned his head to Iryel. "Did Senia come? Do we have more now?"
Iryel nodded, bubbling with enthusiasm. "Lots of food, Tulian, and when she comes again, she'll have even more."
Tulian ran to the floorboard which hid their food; he pulled out two cracked plates, three cups, and some food wrapped in blue cloth.
Aragorn said, "Children, I am not here for dinner. In truth, I am here to take you with me, to the guest quarters where I am staying. They have supper there waiting for us."
"They do?" Tulian asked, not allowing himself time for disbelief ; he was practically bouncing with excitement.
"Yes, they do," Aragorn smiled. "Come; we wouldn't want to keep the others waiting, would we?" Tulian shook his head and led the way out.
"Do you really mean that?" Iryel asked. Aragorn was somewhat surprised. What reason would he have to lie to her?
But he perceived that she lied at times to her brother, to comfort him when he worried for food, or clothing, or sickness, or any of the other things adults dealt with. Troubles that Iryel now faced, though she was but six years of age.
"Yes, I mean it," he said, his cool gray eyes meeting hers. "And I hope you will like it."
Iryel nodded. "I will. And even if I don't, I won't embarrass you in front of your captain. But we might have to keep an eye on Tulian, he spat out some bread once at a dinner party. Daddy was really upset."
Aragorn held out a hand, and Iryel placed hers in his. "Even if you were to try, you could not embarrass me in front of my captain. And I want the both of you to relax and have fun; do not worry what the others may think of you."
Glorfindel did not sleep that night. In fact several of the Elves did not; when the men had all drifted off to sleep, they rose and went off where they could speak without disturbing their companions.
Glorfindel nudged the wolf, praying to the Valar that Legolas' knots would hold. He was met with low growls, but the Elf paid them no mind. Quietly, he pulled the wolf to her feet and called to Asfaloth.
Glorfindel swung himself up into the saddle, and noted that it was becoming easier (not much easier, he knew, but when compared to his first attempt since being blinded, even this much progress felt incredible).
They passed where the wolf had been found, walking for perhaps two or three miles more, before he called to Asfaloth to stop. There he dismounted, and walked away from the horse.
The wolf was besides herself; she pulled angrily on the rope, snarling as fiercely as she could while knowing he knew that she posed no real threat. He allowed her tantrum to pass, and when it had, she sat still and panted.
At long last, they heard the forest sounds return. When the wolf became bored, she stood up and waled to the end of her lead; Glorfindel stepped closer, giving her more slack. She took it, and he gave, and so he was taken through the forest until, abruptly, she stopped.
Glorfindel heard movement ahead of them, but could not tell how far it was, nor at this point could he guess what it might be. The wolf stood still for two long minutes, and then silently began to move towards it.
Asfaloth was behind them, just near enough that he could watch the wolf carefully, but far enough that he would not interfere with what Glorfindel was doing. But as they moved further ahead, he also had to move, and he made more sound than either the Elf or the wolf.
"Who's there?" a voice called out. "I hear your horse! Speak up, announce yourself!"
Glorfindel released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "How long have you been here, in the woods?" Now that the man was no longer trying to be stealthy, it was easy to tell that he was not Elf, nor animal.
"Three days. I was thrown from my horse while I was hunting the wolves that have been killing our sheep. I would have turned back, but at night I can hear them howling; none of them had come closer than a mile of me, so I stayed, hoping they would leave."
"Indeed...they have," Glorfindel said.
"How did you know I was missing? Did my father send you?"
"We --other Elves, and forces from Rohan and Gondor-- are staying the night with your family, for we are hunting these wolves. One of the Riders sent by King Eomer told us of the attacks on your farm, and we came to find clues. I found one of the wolves, and remembered that they often return to their prey."
"You're an Elf!" the man exclaimed. "I never thought-- an Elf! What is your name?"
A familiar nose bumped into his elbow. "I am Glorfindel; this is Asfaloth. He will take us back; your family is very worried for you."
The man climbed onto Asfaloth. "And he is an Elven horse!"
Glorfindel handed the wolf's leash to him. "Yes. We both hail from Rivendell, if you have heard of it." He gritted his teeth and pulled himself into the saddle in front of the farmer. "Tego men ad."
Asfaloth turned and trotted easily back the way they had come; the wolf limped next to them.
"Law, Asfaloth, aniron govad sen gaul. Maen draug... gosta men, ar inc nin harn e." means "No, Asfaloth, I desire to meet this wolf. Clever wolf... he fears us, and my guess is he is wounded." ('Draug' means 'wolf')
"Sh. Sidh, coth nin. Togin law naeg den." means "Sh. Peace, my enemy. I bring no pain to you."
"Im harn, gaul; aniron law breged, edregol law o edh, u-nagidh nin." means "I'm wounded (also) wolf; I don't want violence, especially not from you, (so) don't bite me."
"Pado, Asfaloth," means "Walk, Asfaloth."
"...si im," means "I'm here."
"Pen neth" means "young one"
"Tego men ad" means "Take us back"
Author's Notes: It's disputed that the Glorfindel from the trilogy is the same one from The Silmarillion. Obviously, I'm one of the ones who says 'Yes, they're the same guy!'. If you want to know my reasons, other than 'so I can argue with my brother', feel free to e-mail me. Or hey, e-mail me anyway; *sniffle* my box is open *sniffle*.