Glorfindel in Imladris
Chapter 3
The Long Flat Mile
The hobbits had walked to the limit of their endurance, and Glorfindel allowed them to rest just before morning. So utterly spent were they that they fell asleep immediately, without thought or word of food. From the speed which Aragorn succumbed to slumber Glorfindel could guess how close he was to the end of his considerable strength. The Elf watched impatiently while the hours passed that were needed for them to regain their stamina.
Frodo sighed and sat up, drawing a hand across his eyes. Glorfindel gave him a bottle of water and helped him drink; the halfling's left arm was completely cold and useless. Weak as he was, today his eyes were clear and he smiled at the Elf. "Strider said your name was Glorfindel."
Glorfindel looked at him questioningly, then realized with a laugh in his heart that Frodo meant Aragorn. So many names for one man!
"I am so named," said Glorfindel.
"Forgive my ignorance; my uncle once told me a tale he had heard about an elf named Glorfindel, a hero of the past Ages. Was he a kinsman of yours?"
Glorfindel smiled and sat down next to Frodo where he could speak so that the others would not be disturbed and he could still watch the Road. "Your uncle told you tales of Elven history? You must be a curious and peculiar hobbit to be interested in such things, and he a curious and peculiar hobbit to know them! Tales long and sad of people and places that no longer see the sun; deeds of valour and vanity were done then, and battles fought and blood spilled that ought never have been. It has been long since I thought about them... they seem a song sung by a fireside that teases my memory."
Frodo looked up at the Elf, and in his pale face his eyes still sparkled merrily. "Well, there is no fire here, but I am restless. Will you tell me a tale of Glorfindel of old?"
"At another time, perhaps, when you have less need of rest and we have more time than is allowed us now. You ought to be laying quietly."
"I know. It is just that the light of morning is so refreshing after the darkness of the night. Sometimes I cannot see it, when my wound is painful... everything seems to fade away and I feel... transparent, as it were, if you understand me." Frodo said, feeling awkward.
The hobbit lay back on his blanket and shifted suddenly to ease his painful shoulder. Glorfindel watched him with concern. The halfling's spirit was bright and strong, and he seemed to be recovering a measure of strength. But Glorfindel could see that Frodo's flesh was becoming as a thin glass housing his Flame; his left arm and hand hung like cold meat, limp and frigid, and the light shone more brightly there. The elf wrapped Frodo in his own cloak and made him drink from his flask a mouthful of liquor he had brought from Rivendell. Frodo thanked him and settled back with a sigh of relief.
As the drink slowly made Frodo sleepy, he asked another question that had been gnawing at his mind. "You said before that I was bringing peril upon my companions, because of that which I bear. How did you learn of it? Did Gandalf tell you?"
Glorfindel flicked his eyes around the glade. All was quiet but for the natural sounds of the wild. "This is not a place to discuss matters, Frodo Baggins, but I may say that I have had dealings with such things before. He who bore the knife which struck you... he and I have met before, and I know his errand. Gandalf does not discuss such things except in council, and what is said there is not for ears outside of that council. But your need is great, and my heart tells me that hearing would give you some peace and perhaps some strength as well. I will tell you that Glorfindel of Gondolin, that one who with the help of many valiant warriors aided Idril and Eärendil her son and the refugees of the Hidden Rock to escape the ruin wrought by the dragons of iron; who spoke of the prophecy concerning the sorcerous king of Angmar, repeating the words of the Seer; all of that which Glorfindel knew and saw, I do know and have seen. That is all that I can reveal, so let yourself rest and ask no more questions now, Frodo."
Frodo lay back listening to Glorfindel speak, and watching him saw again that shimmering light that he had seen when first he had met the elf. Stronger now that light appeared, like sunlight dappling off of the clear surface of a pool, brighter even than the light that fell all around now as the sun climbed above the horizon. As he closed his eyes slowly, sleep claiming him at last, Frodo marveled aloud, "I feel quite safe now, knowing that you are here, Lord Glorfindel! Surely we will come soon to safety, with your aid," and he fell asleep with a peaceful smile still on his pale face.
Glorfindel watched him with troubled eyes. Since they had stopped, he had felt the nearness of evil several times, each time coming closer before drawing away. They were circling, searching, and getting nearer to locating them. The longer they waited in one place, the more likely they were to be found. Glorfindel forced himself not to wake them for 5 hours; he could wait no more.
He roused them and gave them each a mouthful of the precious cordial of Imladris, and it strengthened them greatly. Frodo was cheerful when Sam woke him, and with his help ate some breakfast before they began the days march. As Glorfindel lifted the halfling from the ground to Asfaloth's seat, something shining and golden fell to the ground.
"Oh," exclaimed Frodo, and everyone stared at the ring lying innocently on the grass, a tiny circle of yellow metal. It was as if time had stopped and frozen them all.
Frodo sighed, and he slipped off of the horse with Glorfindel's help. He picked up the thing, his face revealing a great loathing at the touch of it, and he hid it in a deep pocket of his coat. The act seemed to leech all the new strength he had found, and as the Elf lifted him again into the saddle, his once-bright eyes were clouded again. Glorfindel walked next to him as they journeyed, though Asfaloth's pace was steady and would not have let him fall.
Aragorn went ahead and scouted their route, and Glorfinel led them at a speed that the hobbits could endure for long hours. The elf was sobered by what he had seen, and though he felt the noose closing still about them, he realized the true import of this mission; not just to get Frodo to Rivendell, but to bring the Ring there as well.
The Ring in Imladris! Glorfindel wanted nothing more than to take It far away from that lovely valley so full of peace and beauty. To bring that evil there—the cold, hard evidence of the malice of Sauron—seemed a deed unforgivable. This is what Elrond had meant... the Edain did not want this Thing brought there, either! But he had known that it was coming, and that it was necessary for them to help Frodo. Change was coming to the Elves in their last refuge, in a package that no good elf could refuse. Inwardly, Glorfindel wept for the Days to come.
"Don't be angry with my Master, Mr. Glorfindel, sir."
Glorfindel blinked and looked down at the hobbit walking at his side. So wrapped in his thoughts he had been, he had not heard the soft tread of Sam beside him. The halfling was trotting along, almost running to keep up with the elf's long strides. Glorfindel slowed his walk and softened his grim countenance with a smile.
"I am not angry with Frodo, Samwise, but with the hand that wounded him and the Will that make all this evil tangible." He placed his long-fingered hand on Sam's shoulder, and looked him in the eye.
Brown and rich as the soil of Eriador, the Elf-lord saw in Sam's eyes hills of green that rippled on to the edge of the world, trees and valleys and streams of pure water, echoing with a music of Ages past. Crops and forest, animals and hobbits; all living together in harmony and peace, and all threatened by the same evil. Glorfindel saw in Sam the innocence and strength of the Shire, and his reluctance melted away. Nothing was more important than trying to save all that was still good in the world.
He patted Sam's shoulder and said, "Let's stop for a bit and catch our breath, Master Samwise. I see a good place to rest."