To Choose A Fellowship
Glorfindel voices his opinion on Gandalf's reasoning.
Rating : G for Glorfindel.
A/N : Strictly, strictly AU. At least, that's what the records say...
I don't have a Peredhil loremaster locked in my cupboard to set my Silmarillion history straight, so please excuse any historical errors. Nor do I have a loremaster to help me proofread and weed out typographical errors. In fact, I'm rather appalled (at myself), that this story doesn't contain enough of said Peredhil...
I lack the skill to draft a disclaimer to properly exclude liability, especially since any disclaimer will be construed contra proferentem. At the same time, I don't see how anyone can sue for more than contemptuous damages. I would check, but laziness forbids me...
A/N2 : Special thanks to Narya's Bane, who pointed out in a review that the beginning didn't quite make sense (after I snipped a bit off the end.) Fixed and re-uploaded.
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"Come Gimli!"
Gimli glanced up, as Legolas tugged upon his sleeve with great urgency.
"Now by Fangorn's leave I will visit the deep places of the Entwood and see such trees as are nowhere else found in Middle-earth. You shall come with me and keep your word; and thus we will journey on together to our own lands in Mirkwood and beyond." The elf was practically hopping from one foot to another in his impatience.
"My lands do not lie in Mirkwood, but in--" Gimli's protest was cut short by Legolas' frown.
"Nevermind that," the elf hissed in a whisper. "We have tarried long enough. I would leave quickly before Elrond remembers things that are best left forgotten."
"Elrond?" Gimli said in utter confusion.
"Come, my good dwarf. As you have shown me the wonders of the Glittering Caves, now I shall reveal to you the hidden beauty of the forests." By now, half the company was staring.
"Let us not make a scene," Gimli agreed gruffly. "Let us go."
"And thus we take our leave," Legolas cried out, and running as only an elf can, he dodged past horses and made a beeline for the eaves of Fangorn. As he leapt past Elrond, Gimli saw the half elf start, and a frown crease his forehead. But before the loremaster could utter a word, they were between the trees and out of sight.
"So," Gimli said when Legolas had finally deigned to stop running. "Tell me what all of that was about. What did you do to incur the wrath of Master Elrond?"
"It is well that he has been distracted by his thoughts of Arwen these days past," Legolas said, laughing inexplicably. "Else we might have had to quit Minas Tirith earlier. But it is a long tale, one that stretches far back to the very forming of the Fellowship." He leaned back against a tree with what could only be described as a smirk upon his features. "Firstly, my name ... is not Legolas."
***
"Mithrandir!" the shout of an infuriated elf-lord shook the foundations of Imladris, and somewhere in the deep places of the world, a Balrog shuddered.
"Ah, Glorfindel." The wizard removed the pipe from his mouth with a small smile.
"Glorfindel," the other occupant of the study looked up, one hand sneaking up to his temple to massage away a growing headache. "If it would please you not to bring Imladris down with your shouting..."
"Elrond," Glorfindel growled in what might have been a greeting. He brought both palms down, hard, on the surface of the table, and Elrond winced.
"What ails you?" Elrond asked, perplexed.
"'Even if you chose for us an elf-lord, such as Glorfindel, he could not storm the Dark Tower, nor open the road to the Fire by the power that is in him'" Glorfindel nearly spat the words. "What kind of reasoning... nay, excuse is that, Mithrandir? For there seems to be no logic behind it whatsoever."
"Yet it is true," Mithrandir replied mildly.
"True it may be, but as a reason it fails miserably." The elf flung his arms in the air in exasperation. "Simply because I cannot 'open the road' or 'storm the Dark Tower', as you put it, does not mean that I am not fit to accompany the Ringbearer. Certainly, the two young halflings that were chosen to complete the Fellowship could not even find the road, let alone open it!"
"That was harsh, Glorfindel," Elrond said in mild rebuke.
"And you, Master Elrond! I cannot believe that you would accept such... such non-reasoning."
"Their hearts were set on going," Elrond replied calmly. "It would have been difficult indeed to part them from Frodo."
"Well, my heart is set on going as well," Glorfindel said, annoyed. "Simply because I do not throw tantrums and insist that you send me back to Mandos tied in a sack does not mean that I am any less eager to join the Company."
"Sending him back to Mandos in a sack would certainly spare me the pain of his yelling," Elrond muttered under his breath. He raised his voice. "You are well aware that the hope of the Company lies in stealth, not in strength. Indeed, I perceive that--"
"--Nevertheless, if they encounter resistance on the road, and I perceive that they will, they will need the strength to fend it off. What use is stealth if discovery leads to destruction?"
"They have Mithrandir," Elrond said, nodding at the wizard, who had returned to the all important task of blowing smoke rings.
"And Mithrandir only! I do not doubt Estel's valor or Boromir courage, but even they could scarcely stand against the greater evils in the world. And who is to say that Mithrandir will not disappear midway for some feasting at Beorn's?"
"If you are talking about Thorin and company, why, that was hardly my adventure," Mithrandir said, unperturbed.
"Nevertheless!" Glorfindel snapped. "Leaving those poor dwarves to fend for themselves while you enjoyed Beorn's hospitality is hardly the sign of a responsible Istar."
"He had excellent wine," Mithrandir replied, a faraway look in his eyes.
"Glorfindel," Elrond sighed, resigning himself to the headache. "Estel can hold the nine at bay for a time, even alone. What more strength do you require of them? They are hardly likely to meet a Balrog on the road."
"Anything is possible. Why, even Sauron himself may come forth."
"As I recall, it was Isildur, not Glorfindel, who cut the ring from Sauron's finger," Elrond replied. "And it was luck, not strength, that prevailed that day. Even Gil-galad could not stand again the Dark Lord."
"Because he forgot to duck," Glorfindel muttered.
"Furthermore, it was decided that there should be one elf, and one elf only. The dwarves would not forgive me if I were to send two elves and only one of their kindred. Allegations of discrimation would fly."
"Middle-earth is not a democracy, Elrond," Glorfindel groaned. "And you are not elected by dwarven votes."
"Aye, but I may be removed by dwarven axes," Elrond said sharply. "At any rate, your strength is needed for the defence of Imladris."
"What fun is there in that? Legolas could very well serve the same role. I did not return from Mandos to babysit the Peredhil and keep his sons from stealing cookies from the kitchen!"
Elrond's eyebrow twitched. "If the Ringbearer should fail, or even if he does not, Imladris is under constant threat from Mordor, and now Isengard. The Nine succeeded in coming even unto our borders... we are not safe any more."
"I would not sit around doing nothing until my sword rusts and my armor crumbles to dust. Where are the songs and deeds of renown that Mandos promised? Even Gil-galad-who-forgot-to-duck is remembered. But when I am finally given an assignment of any import after five hundred years, Arwen steals my horse and rides out in my stead."
Mithrandir chuckled. "A fine daughter you have raised, Master Elrond."
"Armed with only a decorative sword from over the mantlepiece!" Glorfindel groaned. "Did you see that sword? It could scarcely cut a block of cheese, so twisted and strangely shaped it was."
"Aye, and she also pretended to raise the river," Elrond said in amused recollection. "But no, Glorfindel, the tale of nine is fulfilled. I see no reason to add a tenth, or to replace any of them."
Glorfindel glared at Elrond with the very glare that gave the Balrog pause in Gondolin. Elrond retreated behind the safety of The Full History of the First and Second Ages, but did not relent. "There is much preparation to be done before the Company leaves," he muttered. "If you would excuse me..." He winced again as Glorfindel slammed the door behind him, very loudly. "Ai, Elbereth. It is no wonder the Balrog was no match for him."
"Indeed," Mithrandir replied, blowing a large smoke ring, and smiling in amusement as the half elf gagged and began choking.
"If you would kindly remove that from my study," Elrond gasped between coughing fits. "Before I call upon Vilya to clear the air."
***
Glorfindel was waiting for him outside. He turned as Mithrandir strode out of the study, humming tunelessly under his breath. The elf winced; wizards were not known for their musical prowess.
"Mithrandir, a moment if you please."
"Certainly," the wizard said.
"The garden," Glorfindel said, gesturing hurriedly. The enclosed space of the corridor, even with open windows, was rapidly filling with smoke.
When they were out in the open and far away from a certain loremaster's study, Glorfindel judged that it was safe to speak his mind. "You know Legolas, do you not?"
"Legolas of Gondolin? Only what I have heard from Elrond, I am afraid."
"Nay," Glorfindel said with a flash of annoyance. "Legolas son of Thranduil."
"Why of course! Just scant days ago, we met him at the council. As bright a young lad as can be, even if he is not overly friendly with dwarves. I do look forward to--"
"--a good archer, is he not?" Glorfindel interrupted.
"An excellent one, or so I have heard."
"Who is indubitably familiar with the fine art of defending his realm against the creatures of Sauron?"
"With Dol Guldur so near to his father's realm, I would surely agree."
"Alas, I must concede a great weakness on my part," Glorfindel said, lowering his voice as if to impart a great secret. "I am no good at defence at all."
"Is that so?" the wizard raised an eyebrow.
"Aye. I am only good at charging at the enemy." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I can banish a Balrog, but shooting from ramparts is beyond me. I fear I would not be able to stop myself from charging upon the enemy, and Elrond would be most displeased."
Mithrandir took another deep breath from his pipe. If he doubted the truth of Glorfindel's statements, it did not show on his face.
"And that would be disasterous, would it not?" Glorfindel said. "For the defence would crumble immediately. Otherwise would charge, believing that there was such an order... nay, I am no good at defence at all." He glanced sideways at Mithrandir. "Let those who may wield the sword become swordsmen, and let those who may wield the bow become archers. Is that not what they say?"
"Aye."
"Surely, it would be better to let those apt at defence to remain behind to protect Imladris, whilst allowing those who know only how to attack, go forth."
"I confess myself puzzled as to why you are telling this to me, rather than to Elrond. He has the final say in the selection of the Fellowship."
"But Elrond," Glorfindel shrugged expansively. "Elrond is busy, very much so. One would venture to say that he is overwhelmed by work. And this is a small matter. His concern is that the elves must have one representative. Diplomatically, it would make no difference whether that elf was Legolas... or someone else. And Thranduil would never forgive the Peredhil for sending his son into danger. We are saving him trouble, Mithrandir."
For one who accused me of a lack of logic, he certainly is not much better, Mithrandir reflected, amused. "Do you think he would not notice if you replaced Legolas with yourself?"
"He would notice, indeed. But hopefully, he would not notice it until we are far from Imladris." Glorfindel swung a companionable arm about Mithrandir's shoulders. "Come, my friend. Work with me. I have a large stock of South Farthing which would prove good companionship on the long road..."
"Estel would notice," the wizard pointed out.
"Aye, but I have knowledge that he would rather keep from his father. Especially since it involves Arwen."
***
"May the stars shine upon your faces!" Elrond said in farewell. The company was departing, gray shapes soon to be swallowed up by the darkness. Mithrandir waved his hand in farewell; there was a sparkle in his eyes even as he departed.
Suddenly weary, Elrond sagged against the doorframe. There had been much to do, these past few days, and Glorfindel, one of his chief counselors, had scarcely been of any help at all. In fact, he had hardly seen the golden haired elf lord around.
Turning, Elrond made his way back into the house. The Ring had departed, and there was nothing he could do for it now. All efforts had to be turned to the defence against the impending assault--
--loud hammering against wood interrupted his thoughts. Frowning, Elrond turned, to regard a large storage closet. A closet large enough to stuff a man, or an elf...
And who would be locked in a closet indeed? He crossed the floor, removed the heavy bolt, and flung the doors open. And looked in dismay upon the occupant.
"It was not my fault, Lord Elrond," Legolas said. "I was walking along when the world went suddenly dark, and I awoke in this foul cupboard..."
If Legolas is here, then who was the elf who departed with the Company?
Another golden haired elf's face swam into his mind's eye. Elrond groaned. "Glorfindel!!!"
***
The cry echoed through the valley, and somewhere, an elf chuckled.
"What is it, Legolas?" Frodo asked.
"Nothing," Glorfindel answered. "Nothing at all."
***
Epilogue
"All's well that end's well, is it not?" Glorfindel smiled sheepishly at Elrond.
"Aye," Elrond sighed wearily.
"So all is forgiven?"
"Aye."
"Then I shall take my leave," Glorfindel said, grinning.
"One thing, however," Elrond glanced up from the account of the journey that lay upon his desk.
"And what would that be?"
"'Ai, ai! A Balrog! A Balrog is come!'" Elrond quoted, chuckling.
Glorfindel's face went instantly red. "I was surprised, nothing more."
Elrond smiled, and Glorfindel had the nasty feeling that he would hear no end of this for the long ages to come.
-Finis-