Gilded Rose of the House of Gondolin
A tale of Glorfindel (and Erestor) by Ellie in ElfPajamas.
Okay, I'm taking out artistic license. Glorfindel's name means 'Golden Flower', so I'm calling him the Gilded Rose. The rose is the most beautiful of all flowers and certainly one of the more expensive. 'Gilded Roses' are rare. Glorfindel is rare and precious, powerful and fragile. Like a flower will succumb to the frost. Okay, the eloquence ends here.
I'm swiping some ideas -and building upon them- from my friend Erestor's 'Elves of the Third Age'. The story is excellent, and can be found in my favorite story listing.
Rating: PG13. My angst doesn't go much beyond PG but I'm erring on the side of caution.
Genre: Angst/Humor/Spiritual/Action/Adventure/Romance
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor's hunting trip turns dangerous. Who will fall? Who is the one in trouble? What's spiritual about it?
Spiritual: I don't believe in the Halls of Mandos, and you will find me immovable on this point. Since Tolkien wrote that Glorfindel passed through the Halls once, I see no need to bring it up again. My idea of Glorfindel is that he does have all his memories, Glorfindel of Imladris and Glorfindel of Gondolin are one and the same, and that some things haunt him. One aspect of this story will be healing.
Disclaimer: I do not own Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, Estel, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, Thranduil, Imladris, or the hobbit drinking songs. I do not own Mirkwood either, but neither does Tolkien.
Claimer: I do own Faelon, Caladriel, Faelien, Faeliel, Shadow, Naur, WhisperingSilver, WindDancer, MithrilArrow, and Rinn's snowpeas. Ask before using them.
Melannen is owned by the authoress Erestor, and Rinnalaiss was borrowed from Rinnalaiss Turegwaithen with permission.
The REAL chapter one!: In the Halls of the Elvenking; Thranduil
Erestor sighed deeply. He was not particularly fond of Mirkwood, or sitting between Rinnalaiss and Glorfindel at dinner. Rinn was being surprisingly well behaved, and had only shot two Elf-Lords with her snowpeas. Glorfindel had encouraged her, so Erestor had been powerless to stop it. That made him cranky. Not that he wasn't cranky to begin with, but it didn't help. He had been very embarassed when one of the snowpeas had hit Thranduil in the ear and it had looked like he had done it, but he wasn't angry. Yet. It wasn't too much fun to have an Elvenking watching you throughout the meal because he thinks you've been flinging peas at him, but Erestor was used to it by now. Rinn usually ruined state dinners and feasts, and she was almost always seated beside Erestor, so Erestor was used to getting funny looks from lords.
Glorfindel was a wee bit tipsy, he didn't have as high a tolerance for alcohol as most thought, so though he'd only drunk as much wine as the other Elves, he was the only one who was drunk. Erestor took grim satisfaction from that. Rinn was allowed to drink the wine mingled with juice that Arwen usually drank, but she didn't get drunk. Or at least, not often. For which Erestor was truly greatful. It made her sleepy and shut her up, which was music to his sensitive ears. Glorfindel sampled the dishes like a practiced wine tester, chosing the ones he liked from the little bits he put on his plate. Erestor knew what he liked and stuck with it.
Erestor felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and looked up to the maid who was offering him more wine. She was kind of strange looking, she'd obviously had a bit too much to drink. Erestor politely refused the refill and asked for a glass of water instead. She looked at him like he was insane. A soft, silvery laugh was heard across the table from him. He turned his head to look. An Elf-maid with her hand to her mouth was laughing, watching the exchange, merry blue eyes twinkling. Her hair fell over her shoulders in gentle dark gold curls, making her look bouncy and fresh, perhaps a little mischevious as well.
"Faeliel, Lord Erestor would like a glass of mingled wine. Put your muddled brain to work and get him one, dear girl." she laughed.
Faeliel had an inkling of understanding, and brought Erestor some of the wine-like drink Arwen and Rinn favored. Calad, tired and pale, sat beside her father with Faelon and Legolas. Legolas had moved one seat down so that Faelon could sit with Calad. Erestor looked at her, wondering if she would be able to stay at the table through dinner. Faelon looked to Legolas and whispered something, and then the two helped Calad to leave the room. Erestor's unspoken question thus answered, he hoped that Calad would feel better later. He felt a small, round, slimey object hit his cheek and shut his eyes in resignation.
"Good shot!" he heard Glorfindel whisper to Rinn.
"Will you two behave?!!" Erestor whispered fiercely.
Glorfindel looked innocent.
The maiden across the table was not laughing anymore.
"Lady Rinn, please refrain from launching projectiles at the table." she said softly. "Lord Glorfindel, surely you are much too old and mature to engage in such pasttimes. Cease and desist."
Glorfindel nodded dumbly. He really should not have drunk so much wine.
"What's your name again?" Rinn asked the stern maiden.
"Melannen." sighed the maiden. "Please just stop your foolery."
Rinn grinned fiendishly as usual.
Erestor finished what was on his plate and excused himself from the table. He walked aimlessly through the palace. Although few knew it, Erestor was a very content individual, but he'd always disliked Mirkwood. He liked light and airy Lorien and natural, flowing Rivendell, but Mirkwood had never been dear to him. He had never seen Faelon's lands, and was looking forward to hunting on them, but he didn't want to stay here long.
"Why so discontented, Lord Erestor?" asked a soft voice.
Melannen had snuck up on him in his musings. She looked at him curiously.
"It's nothing, just, I prefer Rivendell to Mirkwood, that's all." he said.
"Why is that?" Melannen asked.
"I just do. Rivendell is much like my home lands, and I feel comfortable there. I just don't feel right wandering around under the earth." Erestor replied.
Melannen nodded.
"I'm not originally from here either." she said. "My family and I were forced to flee here when Beriorchan's heir was lost, the Spiders seemed to know that we had lost the chief of our defenders."
"I-it must be nice." Erestor couldn't finish his sentence.
"What must be nice, my lord?" asked Melannen gently.
"To have a family around you." Erestor blurted.
He felt uncomfortable, wishing he'd kept that to himself. Melannen seemed understanding.
"It is nice. I wish there were no Elves left without family." she said, gazing at a tapestry on the wall.
Erestor looked at her without saying anything. She was very pretty, much different looking from many of the she-Elves he knew. He watched her as she stepped toward the tapestry to study the thread count and weave. A roar of laughter from the Elves in the dining hall cut Erestor's thoughts short. He could just barely hear Rinn singing, and knew whatever it was, she should not have been singing it. He hurried back to see, hearing Melannen's soft footfalls as she followed. His jaw dropped in horror as he saw Rinn was dancing on the table with Glorfindel and singing a Hobbit drinking song.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe
Rain may fall and wind may blow
And many miles be still to go
But under a tall tree will I lie
And let the clouds go sailing by."
Elrond was as red as a candy apple. Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel were laughing so hard that their faces were flushed pink. Glorfindel was too drunk to care. Rinn was just in it for the laughs and the fact that she could tease Glorfindel about it later when he was sober.
"Sing another!" prompted an Elf in the corner, quite happy with the entertainment of the night. Thranduil, obviously in a generous mood, seconded the request. Rinn happily obliged, dancing with the Balrog Slayer she loved to humiliate so well.
"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old gray hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown,
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, how purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The landlord kept a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.
They also keep a horned cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green."
Erestor couldn't bear to watch anymore. He had to leave the room. He heard a thud as dizzy Glorfindel fell off the table and took Rinn with him, then laughter, and deduced that Rinn must have done something ridiculous to the fallen Balrog Slayer. Melannen ran up to him.
"Lord Erestor! You missed the best part!" she giggled.
Erestor winced, dreading to find out what had been the best part.
"Lady Rinn landed on Lord Glorfindel and gave him a kiss!" Melannen laughed. "Lord Glorfindel's ears turned red, and he's still lying there in shock."
Rinn flashed past, her smiling face flushed with mirth, her hands holding her long skirts away from her feet as she ran like she was being pursued by a pack of wargs. Erestor paused and waited to see who was chasing her. Elrond came flying after his daughter. His face was flushed too, but not with mirth. Faelon slipped down the hallway, silent and unnoticed as he usually did.
"Faelon, you're a lord now, you needn't sneak like a servant." Erestor said softly.
Faelon colored slightly.
"Yes, my lord. I keep forgetting." he replied.
"What are you up to?" Erestor asked curiously, forgetting for a moment about Melannen.
"I was looking for you, actually. Calad wants to know if you brought your history of the First Age with you, she didn't finish reading it." Faelon said.
"It's in my room." Erestor said. "How is Calad? She didn't look well at dinner, is she alright?"
"She should be fine, she just had a headache. It isn't as bad now, but she doesn't feel well enough to rejoin the party." Faelon said.
"Good. I hope she feels better later." Erestor said. "Feel free to borrow the book."
Faelon bowed and went to get the book.
"Who is Faelon?" Melannen asked.
"He's Beriorchan's heir. He's going to take possession of his lands on the morrow." Erestor said with his trademark easy grace.
A shrill cackle of Rinn being tickled to death rent the air, joined by Elrond's laughter. He loved his baby girl, and spankings had been abandoned in favor of tickling her, like a little child. Glorfindel staggered by, drunk, dazed, and happy, headed for bed.
"Faelon is Beriorchan's lord? I would never have guessed." Melannen said. "I must wonder why Lord Glorfindel is so happy, though."
"He's been kissed for the first time in an Age. You'd be happy too." Erestor said dryly.
"How long has it been since you were last kissed?" Melannen laughed.
A wry smile curled the corners of Erestor's lips.
"The last time my mother kissed me." he said flatly.
Melannen laughed, a silvery, tinkling sound, like bells. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, she thought he was kidding.
"I was telling the truth, Melannen." Erestor said seriously.
She froze.
"Surely you are trying to make a fool of me! That could not possibly be so, you're very likable, Erestor." she said.
That was the first time Erestor could remember his name and the word 'likable' being said in the same breath in relation to each other.
"Are you not wedded? Does not a maiden await you in Rivendell?" Melannen asked.
"No. There is no one waiting for me. At one time I thought there was, but there isn't. Not many find me likable." Erestor said, his facial expression unchanging, though his shoulders sagged a little.
Melannen looked at him for a moment, her clear blue eyes clouding a little.
She stepped closer, put her arms around his neck, and lightly kissed his cheek. Then she turned to go. Erestor stood in stunned silence, his hand going to his cheek, thinking perhaps it would be several degrees warmer than it had been a minute ago.
Perhaps Mirkwood wasn't so bad after all.
A tale of Glorfindel (and Erestor) by Ellie in ElfPajamas.
Okay, I'm taking out artistic license. Glorfindel's name means 'Golden Flower', so I'm calling him the Gilded Rose. The rose is the most beautiful of all flowers and certainly one of the more expensive. 'Gilded Roses' are rare. Glorfindel is rare and precious, powerful and fragile. Like a flower will succumb to the frost. Okay, the eloquence ends here.
I'm swiping some ideas -and building upon them- from my friend Erestor's 'Elves of the Third Age'. The story is excellent, and can be found in my favorite story listing.
Rating: PG13. My angst doesn't go much beyond PG but I'm erring on the side of caution.
Genre: Angst/Humor/Spiritual/Action/Adventure/Romance
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor's hunting trip turns dangerous. Who will fall? Who is the one in trouble? What's spiritual about it?
Spiritual: I don't believe in the Halls of Mandos, and you will find me immovable on this point. Since Tolkien wrote that Glorfindel passed through the Halls once, I see no need to bring it up again. My idea of Glorfindel is that he does have all his memories, Glorfindel of Imladris and Glorfindel of Gondolin are one and the same, and that some things haunt him. One aspect of this story will be healing.
Disclaimer: I do not own Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, Estel, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, Thranduil, Imladris, or the hobbit drinking songs. I do not own Mirkwood either, but neither does Tolkien.
Claimer: I do own Faelon, Caladriel, Faelien, Faeliel, Shadow, Naur, WhisperingSilver, WindDancer, MithrilArrow, and Rinn's snowpeas. Ask before using them.
Melannen is owned by the authoress Erestor, and Rinnalaiss was borrowed from Rinnalaiss Turegwaithen with permission.
The REAL chapter one!: In the Halls of the Elvenking; Thranduil
Erestor sighed deeply. He was not particularly fond of Mirkwood, or sitting between Rinnalaiss and Glorfindel at dinner. Rinn was being surprisingly well behaved, and had only shot two Elf-Lords with her snowpeas. Glorfindel had encouraged her, so Erestor had been powerless to stop it. That made him cranky. Not that he wasn't cranky to begin with, but it didn't help. He had been very embarassed when one of the snowpeas had hit Thranduil in the ear and it had looked like he had done it, but he wasn't angry. Yet. It wasn't too much fun to have an Elvenking watching you throughout the meal because he thinks you've been flinging peas at him, but Erestor was used to it by now. Rinn usually ruined state dinners and feasts, and she was almost always seated beside Erestor, so Erestor was used to getting funny looks from lords.
Glorfindel was a wee bit tipsy, he didn't have as high a tolerance for alcohol as most thought, so though he'd only drunk as much wine as the other Elves, he was the only one who was drunk. Erestor took grim satisfaction from that. Rinn was allowed to drink the wine mingled with juice that Arwen usually drank, but she didn't get drunk. Or at least, not often. For which Erestor was truly greatful. It made her sleepy and shut her up, which was music to his sensitive ears. Glorfindel sampled the dishes like a practiced wine tester, chosing the ones he liked from the little bits he put on his plate. Erestor knew what he liked and stuck with it.
Erestor felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and looked up to the maid who was offering him more wine. She was kind of strange looking, she'd obviously had a bit too much to drink. Erestor politely refused the refill and asked for a glass of water instead. She looked at him like he was insane. A soft, silvery laugh was heard across the table from him. He turned his head to look. An Elf-maid with her hand to her mouth was laughing, watching the exchange, merry blue eyes twinkling. Her hair fell over her shoulders in gentle dark gold curls, making her look bouncy and fresh, perhaps a little mischevious as well.
"Faeliel, Lord Erestor would like a glass of mingled wine. Put your muddled brain to work and get him one, dear girl." she laughed.
Faeliel had an inkling of understanding, and brought Erestor some of the wine-like drink Arwen and Rinn favored. Calad, tired and pale, sat beside her father with Faelon and Legolas. Legolas had moved one seat down so that Faelon could sit with Calad. Erestor looked at her, wondering if she would be able to stay at the table through dinner. Faelon looked to Legolas and whispered something, and then the two helped Calad to leave the room. Erestor's unspoken question thus answered, he hoped that Calad would feel better later. He felt a small, round, slimey object hit his cheek and shut his eyes in resignation.
"Good shot!" he heard Glorfindel whisper to Rinn.
"Will you two behave?!!" Erestor whispered fiercely.
Glorfindel looked innocent.
The maiden across the table was not laughing anymore.
"Lady Rinn, please refrain from launching projectiles at the table." she said softly. "Lord Glorfindel, surely you are much too old and mature to engage in such pasttimes. Cease and desist."
Glorfindel nodded dumbly. He really should not have drunk so much wine.
"What's your name again?" Rinn asked the stern maiden.
"Melannen." sighed the maiden. "Please just stop your foolery."
Rinn grinned fiendishly as usual.
Erestor finished what was on his plate and excused himself from the table. He walked aimlessly through the palace. Although few knew it, Erestor was a very content individual, but he'd always disliked Mirkwood. He liked light and airy Lorien and natural, flowing Rivendell, but Mirkwood had never been dear to him. He had never seen Faelon's lands, and was looking forward to hunting on them, but he didn't want to stay here long.
"Why so discontented, Lord Erestor?" asked a soft voice.
Melannen had snuck up on him in his musings. She looked at him curiously.
"It's nothing, just, I prefer Rivendell to Mirkwood, that's all." he said.
"Why is that?" Melannen asked.
"I just do. Rivendell is much like my home lands, and I feel comfortable there. I just don't feel right wandering around under the earth." Erestor replied.
Melannen nodded.
"I'm not originally from here either." she said. "My family and I were forced to flee here when Beriorchan's heir was lost, the Spiders seemed to know that we had lost the chief of our defenders."
"I-it must be nice." Erestor couldn't finish his sentence.
"What must be nice, my lord?" asked Melannen gently.
"To have a family around you." Erestor blurted.
He felt uncomfortable, wishing he'd kept that to himself. Melannen seemed understanding.
"It is nice. I wish there were no Elves left without family." she said, gazing at a tapestry on the wall.
Erestor looked at her without saying anything. She was very pretty, much different looking from many of the she-Elves he knew. He watched her as she stepped toward the tapestry to study the thread count and weave. A roar of laughter from the Elves in the dining hall cut Erestor's thoughts short. He could just barely hear Rinn singing, and knew whatever it was, she should not have been singing it. He hurried back to see, hearing Melannen's soft footfalls as she followed. His jaw dropped in horror as he saw Rinn was dancing on the table with Glorfindel and singing a Hobbit drinking song.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe
Rain may fall and wind may blow
And many miles be still to go
But under a tall tree will I lie
And let the clouds go sailing by."
Elrond was as red as a candy apple. Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel were laughing so hard that their faces were flushed pink. Glorfindel was too drunk to care. Rinn was just in it for the laughs and the fact that she could tease Glorfindel about it later when he was sober.
"Sing another!" prompted an Elf in the corner, quite happy with the entertainment of the night. Thranduil, obviously in a generous mood, seconded the request. Rinn happily obliged, dancing with the Balrog Slayer she loved to humiliate so well.
"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old gray hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown,
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, how purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The landlord kept a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.
They also keep a horned cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green."
Erestor couldn't bear to watch anymore. He had to leave the room. He heard a thud as dizzy Glorfindel fell off the table and took Rinn with him, then laughter, and deduced that Rinn must have done something ridiculous to the fallen Balrog Slayer. Melannen ran up to him.
"Lord Erestor! You missed the best part!" she giggled.
Erestor winced, dreading to find out what had been the best part.
"Lady Rinn landed on Lord Glorfindel and gave him a kiss!" Melannen laughed. "Lord Glorfindel's ears turned red, and he's still lying there in shock."
Rinn flashed past, her smiling face flushed with mirth, her hands holding her long skirts away from her feet as she ran like she was being pursued by a pack of wargs. Erestor paused and waited to see who was chasing her. Elrond came flying after his daughter. His face was flushed too, but not with mirth. Faelon slipped down the hallway, silent and unnoticed as he usually did.
"Faelon, you're a lord now, you needn't sneak like a servant." Erestor said softly.
Faelon colored slightly.
"Yes, my lord. I keep forgetting." he replied.
"What are you up to?" Erestor asked curiously, forgetting for a moment about Melannen.
"I was looking for you, actually. Calad wants to know if you brought your history of the First Age with you, she didn't finish reading it." Faelon said.
"It's in my room." Erestor said. "How is Calad? She didn't look well at dinner, is she alright?"
"She should be fine, she just had a headache. It isn't as bad now, but she doesn't feel well enough to rejoin the party." Faelon said.
"Good. I hope she feels better later." Erestor said. "Feel free to borrow the book."
Faelon bowed and went to get the book.
"Who is Faelon?" Melannen asked.
"He's Beriorchan's heir. He's going to take possession of his lands on the morrow." Erestor said with his trademark easy grace.
A shrill cackle of Rinn being tickled to death rent the air, joined by Elrond's laughter. He loved his baby girl, and spankings had been abandoned in favor of tickling her, like a little child. Glorfindel staggered by, drunk, dazed, and happy, headed for bed.
"Faelon is Beriorchan's lord? I would never have guessed." Melannen said. "I must wonder why Lord Glorfindel is so happy, though."
"He's been kissed for the first time in an Age. You'd be happy too." Erestor said dryly.
"How long has it been since you were last kissed?" Melannen laughed.
A wry smile curled the corners of Erestor's lips.
"The last time my mother kissed me." he said flatly.
Melannen laughed, a silvery, tinkling sound, like bells. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, she thought he was kidding.
"I was telling the truth, Melannen." Erestor said seriously.
She froze.
"Surely you are trying to make a fool of me! That could not possibly be so, you're very likable, Erestor." she said.
That was the first time Erestor could remember his name and the word 'likable' being said in the same breath in relation to each other.
"Are you not wedded? Does not a maiden await you in Rivendell?" Melannen asked.
"No. There is no one waiting for me. At one time I thought there was, but there isn't. Not many find me likable." Erestor said, his facial expression unchanging, though his shoulders sagged a little.
Melannen looked at him for a moment, her clear blue eyes clouding a little.
She stepped closer, put her arms around his neck, and lightly kissed his cheek. Then she turned to go. Erestor stood in stunned silence, his hand going to his cheek, thinking perhaps it would be several degrees warmer than it had been a minute ago.
Perhaps Mirkwood wasn't so bad after all.