Chapter Four
They passed the first guards a full two days before they reached Imladris. Glorfindel approved of the precautions. The idea of a hidden valley was painful and he rode with a sense of foreboding. To the south lay Eregion, as Galdor repeatedly mentioned, where Galadriel ruled with Celeborn under the High King's banners. He wondered what she would make of his return. They had not spoken for five hundred years before his death, and another dozen centuries had elapsed since then. Artanis, he decided, could wait, he had been ordered to go to Imladris. At least, as far as he was aware since his directions were vague. He had faith in whatever guided him, the military tactician inside him merely wanted the full picture.
The guards let them pass without making their presence known, either recognising Galdor or knowing that two blond elves from the west were no enemies. That was the only thing from Círdan's story that gave him some hope: there was an end, or almost an end to strife between the elves. Among all the grief the Shipwright had retold, there had been some glimmers of hope at least.
Galdor grinned at him as they passed a corner cut deep into the rock.
"Welcome to Imladris," he said quietly. Though only rock surrounded them, Glorfindel could hear the unmistakable roar of a waterfall echoing through the pass. The cliffs fell away and the valley revealed itself. It was beautiful, he gave it that and there was peace in the air, almost tangible. It was not Gondolin. That hit him repeatedly as they rode through down the hill. The valley was small, enclosed and the house, although ornate and quaint, was no city. It was easily defendable, without the obvious second passes that had weakened Gondolin. No army could pass over the mountains to take the House by surprise, which made up for the lack of gates. The guards above on the cliffs were not Ecthelion's, the road was not guarded by the folk of the Fountain. Galdor seemed to take his silence for awe, but it was grief. Imladris was a haven, the very air felt safe, but it was not Gondolin. Glorfindel berated himself for having thought it would be, even with Turgon's great grandson as lord.
They were finally stopped at the bridge, still far from the House itself. Glorfindel let himself marvel at how full of life the valley was, every inch sprouted more plants than he could count. The guard was Noldo, he saw that at once.
"What brings you to Imladris?" the guard asked from within his helmet.
"Lord Círdan has sent us to speak with Lord Elrond," answered Galdor. He produced something Glorfindel could not see and the guard nodded, letting them pass.
"What was that?" Glorfindel asked as they rode on. Galdor held out a tiny gem.
"It came from the Ford, to prove that we passed that way and are friends to the people here." Glorfindel wondered how he could be friends to people he did not know, apart from a distant and long dead kinship to Elrond he had no relations in Middle Earth at all. "Here, my lord." They dismounted in the courtyard, surrounded by the half open arches that formed the wings of the House. Glorfindel wondered how warm it was in winter, for it seemed built for summer and late autumn only. A dark haired elleth came down the steps, scrolls in hand and waved.
"Suilaid, Galdor! Who-" She stopped and Glorfindel glanced away from the stare she had fixed him with. Galdor and the quay guards had given him the same look and it did nothing to put him at ease.
"Nairn, perhaps you could show us to Lord Elrond?" Galdor had taken her arm and was trying to fight a smile.
"Of- of course. This way, my lord." Galdor beckoned and she led them into the House. Glorfindel saw that it was indeed equipped for winter, with equally ornate passages running throughout the wings. It lacked the grandeur of Gondolin, the wood and marble gave it more a sense of intimacy. Nairn knocked at a carved door, her hand brushing the painted flowers. The order to come was heard from within. "Galdor, from Mithlond- and another." She almost scurried in before them, turning to stare at Glorfindel once again. Glorfindel mentally sighed and stepped into the room. At the table were four elves, all of whom were looking at him. Glorfindel's eyes went to the dark haired elf standing up. He could see Tuor in him immediately, the same soft line to the jaw. Elrond, he guessed, smiled at him with Eärendil's grin. Glorfindel had barely opened his mouth to introduce himself when there was a startled gasp from the table.
"Glorfindel." He turned to see a thin, almost sallow face covered in shock. It took him but a moment to realise that although visibly older, an adult when he had last seen the youth, Erestor was standing before him.
"Glorfindel? I see." There was no surprise in Elrond's voice, simply acceptance. Glorfindel heard it as if far away, his eyes locked on the elf at the table. "Laiken, Gilotor, we shall continue this discussion later." The two other elves, who Glorfindel glanced at simply to check he was not looking at another ghost, departed. He heard the door close behind them and murmured orders to Nairn from Elrond yet all his mind was focussed on was Erestor. Eventually his face broke out into a smile, a beam that stretched across it until it ached. Erestor had made it out of the pass, when the orcs and the balrog came after them, he had made it out along with Tuor and Idril. He was alive.
But not smiling. There was nothing but recognition and shock in his face, no joy.
"Sit, Erestor, and you Lord Glorfindel. Nairn, would you be so good as to fetch Isowen." The name made Glorfindel snap around, Erestor pushed from his mind at the mention of the name. Elrond had a sly smile in place as he nodded. Isowen. Yet Isowen was dead.
"I would not trust a stranger bearing a long dead name if they had not elicited the largest reaction to news I have ever seen from Erestor. From that alone I trust your word, and from having seen your face."
"You knew, Elrond?" Erestor's voice had deepened, cracked it seemed from when Glorfindel had last heard it. At once it felt like little more than a few months, the time spent crossing the ocean, but he could feel the centuries dragging out in the gap in his memories. It had the music Ecthelion's had, something more than looks had passed between the cousins. "You did not think to tell me?"
"A face, my friend, but no name." If he had had any doubts, Glorfindel was rid of them. In Imladris he dwells, said Manwë and Elrond had known of his coming. The knock at the door distracted him.
"My lord?" He did not recognise her, even though he knew who she was. Dark hair and golden eyes, the image of his father. She was the woman the girl in Gondolin promised to be. "Glor- No. No, this is some trick. Glorfindel?" There were no rules, to propriety and he did not bother with ceremony in that strange House. He hugged his sister to him. His beautiful dead sister, the child who had burned in Gondolin in the ruins of their home alongside her twin and their mother. The girl who had never answered when he called for her as they ran. He held his impossible sister to him, disbelieving. "How can this be? You fell. You have been gone for an age! No. No, you are dead." She pulled away from him, looking around him to Erestor. "Tell me you have an answer for this." All she received was a gentle shrug.
"Perhaps you would care to explain these events to us?" Elrond had sat down again, Galdor hovering behind. Slowly Glorfindel took a seat, looking between his sister and Erestor.
"I come with a purpose, I was sent back to fulfil." He paused, desperately trying to hide the fact that he knew no more than that. "To Imladris I was sent, more I cannot say." After the briefest of silences, Isowen let out a choked sob and Glorfindel found himself hugging her again. Over her head he saw the look Elrond and Erestor shared. "Maltion?" he whispered suddenly to his sister.
"Just me." His heart fell. "I was the only one to run out in time." Her twin, her other half. Glorfindel had a bittersweet taste in his mouth as he hugged her again.
"I shall go and find Nairn, there should be a room," Erestor murmured, his voice hoarse. Glorfindel watched him leave but he did not look back.