Both Fang and Fire

by Erestor

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Lord of the Rings.


CHAPTER FIVE

After Arwen had left the scene, Glorfindel looked down at Carca. "Would you come with me if I asked?"

"Ask me and see," thought Carca, her eyes narrowed. Glorfindel laughed.

"You are stubborn," he said, almost to himself. "I will state this very clearly. In my favor: I am a dangerous warrior, a expert advisor, and an organized Elf. I am generally cheerful, often likeable, rather charming, terribly powerful and a very respectable person.I am also very honest. My vices are few: I like to appear perfect, I am proud, stubborn, and extremely irritating and obnoxious. In a good way." He smiled. "And if I may be so bold as to summarize you, I should say that you were proud, stubborn, brave, and respectable yourself. How's that?"

Carca smiled despite herself. Glorfindel could be very likeable when he wished to be.

"That said, allow me to ask you properly: would you come with me?"

"Yes, I think I could handle you," Carca thought.


When Carca and Glorfindel entered Lord Elrond's room, Carca was startled to see another Elf there. Worst of all, she actually recognized this Elf. It was Leggy-Pooh.

The Elf bowed when he saw Glorfindel, and Glorfindel bowed in return, which seemed to indicate that Leggy-Pooh was powerful too.

Maybe.

At first glance, he did not look powerful, not like Glorfindel. Glorfindel acted completely confident and self-assured, superior in his charming way. This Elf was quiet, with steel-grey eyes. Powerful in a different, Elvish way. Powerful like all Elves are powerful.

"You are ready to leave?" Lord Elrond asked.

"Yes, my lord," Glorfindel said. "I am bringing the dog with me."

The Dog. Carca sighed. She could feel Glorfindel's wicked delight, just as he could feel her irritation.

"You would not mind having another companion?" the Elf-Lord asked. "Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?"

"Of course not. His highness and I have met before." Glorfindel's gaze strayed to the Elf by the desk. It was a rather amused glance.

The Elf was not called Leggy-Pooh after all! Trust Mary-Lou to be so idiotic. This was 'Prince Legolas of Mirkwood'. And he was not the silly simpering fellow she had suspected him to be. He was a warrior, and a prince. Carca smiled to herself. How very interesting.

This would be an exciting trip.


"Please let me come!" By this point, Erestor was coming as close to begging as he ever would.

Carca watched with interest. She liked both Elves. She didn't like to see them quarrel, and she didn't like to see Erestor get upset.

"Erestor, you are not a warrior," Glorfindel said.

"This was not meant to be a dangerous trip. You're only going to notify King Thranduil of this Quest. You do not need warriors. You do not mean to say, Glorfindel, that you would take a dog and not me!" Erestor cried.

Glorfindel half-smiled. "Your logic remains faultless as ever, my friend. But you are needed here, with Lord Elrond."

Erestor looked at the floor. "Two Elves cannot make the trip alone. You need at least one other. Let me go with you."

"Very well," Glorfindel said. "I wanted you to stay behind for your own good, but if you want to come with me... you may."

Erestor was already packing his bags.


An hour later, three Elves left Imladris, accompanied by three horses, and one dog. Glorfindel rode at the head of the little procession, a sword at his side, and a great yew bow slung across his shoulder. Legolas followed on a brown-eyed bay, his black bow within easy grabbing distance, his posture perfect, ready for anything. Last of all, Erestor came, riding a sleek black horse as raven as his hair. He had a sword, but it seemed to make him more nervous than confident. If the advisor was having second thoughts, however, he did not show it.

Meanwhile, Carca was already having fun. She kept up a brisk pace beside Glorfindel's horse, sniffing eagerly at everything, but never leaving him to examine it. She suspected that in this strange world, there were dangers she could not even imagine. She wondered if she would meet anything dangerous. She rather hoped she would. It would be good to see Glorfindel and Legolas fight. (Not each other, of course. Fight the unknown dangers.)

She listened to the three try to make casual conversation. Erestor was talking in his quiet voice, trying to persuade Legolas to reply in something more than monosyllables. The prince was terribly polite, of course, but not talkative. He seemed wary of the advisor, though more open with Glorfindel. The golden haired Elf did not speak. It was not that he was tense, he seemed contemplative.

"What are you thinking about, O wise and wonderful lord?" she asked. It might have been sarcasm, but her tone was friendly.

Glorfindel said nothing, but she could sense his silent reply. "Mirkwood, O small and stubborn hound."

It might seem strange to the casual human observer, but he could allow her to see his thoughts, conversing with her in a way similar to how she conversed with Gath. She understood him, somehow. The way he thought the word 'Mirkwood' filled her mind with images: huge spiders, tangled webs, black moths the size of... something big, and lots of dark haired Elves.

"Why?" she thought.

She saw an Elf with golden hair and blue eyes (not Glorfindel) sitting on a large fancy chair. "To bring a message to Thranduil."

"Will this be a dangerous trip?" Carca asked.

"Perhaps. Probably."


That night the Elves sat around a campfire. They were not worried about the danger yet, that much was apparent. But they all seemed to be pondering their own separate problems.

Erestor was very quiet, almost anxious.

Legolas continually glanced into the dark trees surrounding them as if he expected danger to come bursting out at any moment. He had objected to a fire at first, until Glorfindel had reminded him, "There are no large insects here."

Glorfindel stared into the fire as though he could read secrets from its depths. He was fascinated with it. Carca wondered about that. She wondered about many things. Then she realized how she could find the answer. She probed into his mind.

Instantly she felt a great heat, fire everywhere, some of it liquid, some of it live and crackling. She could see people dying and Elves running. And danger. She could see danger everywhere in the form of great snarling evil creatures. She recoiled at the vision, so strong, so sudden.

Glorfindel looked at her, the fire reflecting in his strange eyes. "That was Gondolin," he thought.

"Was?"

"It is gone."

"It was your home."

"It was."

"Do you see it every time you look into the fire?"

"No. The pain is gone."

"That is not true. I felt pain." Carca paused, and then asked. "How? Why can I sense your thoughts like this?"

"I am a powerful Elf," Glorfindel thought. She might have bridled at such a comment, but now she knew it was true. "You are not from Middle-Earth. Neither am I. We are more similar than you think."

Carca drew in her breath. "How?"

"When I healed your foot, I gave you a part of myself. I could read you. I knew you. You are not from here. Neither am I. You felt like someone who had died."

"I died?"

"That is what I deduced. I died too."

"You fell here?"

"No." An imperceptible shake of his head. "I came here from Valinor after I died."

"I am not from Valinor."

He grinned. "You certainly aren't."

"Was I sent here?"

"Nothing is an accident, though I do not think you are of much importance. No offense intended, of course."

Carca huffed.

"I doubt you are going to change the course of the future," he thought, smirking a little.

"I might."

"You might."

To Be Continued...