Chapter 35
Demons
"Um, Lady Erynlith… What are you doing?"
The golden-haired elf could not think of the words to describe his friend's position.
Erynlith was standing atop a stool, her hand grasping something above the cupboards in the kitchen. Luckily, no one else was around, not even the cooks, to see her in such a compromising state. She looked determined to get whatever it was that she was trying to reach. But she could still not get hold of it. She tiptoed now, hopefully getting herself taller, and the stool trembled underneath her.
Glorfindel's eyes widened as his hands reached out for her, ready to catch if ever she fell. Erynlith was grunting and panting already; her outstretched arm felt limp with each passing second.
"You have to get off there or you'll hurt yourself," he warned. He tried peeking to see what she was reaching out for, but even with his keen eyesight, he could not tell.
"Aha!" Erynlith exclaimed triumphantly as she held a jar in her hands.
However, the stool beneath her trembled again and it was too late for Glorfindel to stop it. She slipped from the shaking stool and Glorfindel reached out for her, only to end up beneath her. His body cushioned the fall and Erynlith lay on top of him, her chest pressing so scandalously on his face. Glorfindel could feel the heat rushing to his face; but his friend was more concerned about the jar that she held in her hands. She looked proud that the glass did not shatter, and then proceeded to roll off of him.
Glorfindel soothed the back of his head, groaning lightly. "What was that all about?"
Before he knew it, a cookie was thrust into his mouth and he chewed on it reluctantly.
"Cookies, tra-la-lay," Erynlith sang and winked at him.
As they dusted themselves off, they realized that the fallen stool had knocked off some pots that contained food. The delicacies were already scattered on the floor in an utterly wicked state, and Glorfindel blanched at the sight. What would he tell Lord Círdan about the incident? As a gentleman, he would never put the blame to Erynlith.
Suddenly, he felt a strong grip in his hand and he was immediately pulled outside the kitchen, with Erynlith suppressing a laugh. Glorfindel gaped at her. This was an unbelievable act! She was unbelievable! Only children would act that way towards a crime. But he allowed himself to be dragged across the white corridors of Círdan's fortress, the rays of the sun warming their skin.
He felt younger again. No one in his thousands of years had ever dared such an act. Even the children of his time were not as mischievous as the minstrel that he accompanied. But would he care anymore? Their heinous pair had already turned left here and right there, escaping the eyes of all the other elves who went outside to bask in the sunlight.
Glorfindel watched amusedly as Erynlith dipped her hand inside the glass jar, drawing another cookie to her lips.
Sensing the piercing eyes on her, she held out the jar to him. "Here," she offered, but he shook his head politely. She rolled her eyes and forced another cookie in his mouth. "Come on, eat, tra-lay. The elves here bake the best snacks in Arda, tra-la. Don't just stare at me. Eat, Glorfindel!"
He swiftly obliged as he followed her tracks. He hummed as he tasted the sweet chocolate that was there and longed to have another. Without words, he dipped his hand into the jar and took another treat. No one was around to see them share the little jar of cookies which Erynlith had downright stolen from the kitchen. In a few moments, the jar was emptied and discarded by Glorfindel. They continued their way towards the port where the waves of the sea called out to both of them.
"It has been a month now, hasn't it?" Erynlith looked behind her to meet his sapphire eyes.
Glorfindel nodded and ran to catch up to her pace. "Well, yes. And I am enjoying every single second of it." They both laughed.
They trekked the sandy beaches of Lindon's boundaries. Erynlith had removed her light shoes to have the seawater soak her feet, while Glorfindel was contented to have the water lap at his dark boots. The sea was a comforting sight to both of them, and with a month that had gone by, they found it hard to part with it. But Gildor was restless again. He opened up the idea of finally returning to Rivendell. It was also worth noting that four of the five Istari had already left on their separate ways; only Olórin was left with Círdan.
When Erynlith turned to him, she frowned and let her fingers softly brush the dark circles under his eyes. Glorfindel had not been sleeping, she could tell. Perhaps he had not even blinked an eye, ever since his return. "What happened here?"
Glorfindel flinched at her sudden touch. "I find no comfort in sleeping at night. I prefer to guard the gates instead."
"You should sleep, really," Erynlith countered, walking faster now. The edges of her white skirt were already drenched with the water, and she purposely buried her feet beneath the warm sands. She looked back to her friend with a teasing smile. "The maidens will not find you handsome anymore if the dark circles do not fade any sooner, tra-la-la."
"Please, do not get me started on that," Glorfindel said.
Despite being quite a novice in Middle-earth and that there were many things that astounded him, the elves of Lindon, particularly the female minstrels, found him appealing. Maidens would whisper behind their hands and giggle in his presence, something that he felt uncomfortable with; but he always had a pleasant smile ready for them, allowing more attraction to spark in their wake.
She laughed. "Why not, dear friend? You had quite an audience yesterday when Gildor challenged you in a horse race. The maidens were cheering for you, did you not hear?"
"Oh, I did," he replied sheepishly. "I also remember you cheering for me rather than Gildor. Now, why would that be? You know him longer than I am."
"You are better rider though," she answered honestly.
He smiled, purposely ignoring the seawater that drenched the nether parts of his trousers now. "I am starting to guess some kind of favoritism here…"
"Oh, really!"
Erynlith knelt and splashed water on him. She stalked away as Glorfindel ran after her, his heavy boots weighing him down, but he cared not. He cupped his hands together and showered her with the seawater; their laughter mingled with the loud waves. Her skirt was soaked now, even parts of her umber hair, as she tried to counter him with all the water she could force upon him. And Glorfindel laughed again.
When he reached her, he pushed her into the water but her hand grasped his tunic, pulling him down with her. Friendly curses were shouted at each other; Erynlith dipped his golden head before making a run for it.
Gildor glared at the two dripping elves in front of him.
Glorfindel averted his eyes from the accusing look he was given whilst his other half was smiling rather innocently. Her dress clung tight on her like a second skin, giving accent to her slender figure, but she did not seem to mind. Lord Círdan was standing behind Gildor, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he stifled a laugh when Gildor huffed in anger.
"Pray tell me why the two of you, so early in the morning, broke into the kitchen, stole a cookie jar, managed to spill good food, and then end up in the halls drenched to the bones!" Gildor sounded like Elrond reprimanding his sons when they did some mischief in the valley. He placed his hands on his hips, eyes piercing both of them. When none of the two answered him, he huffed again and gestured to Círdan. "What have you to say for yourself? Lord Círdan will not find this amusing and—"
"Alright, we get it, Gildor!" Erynlith sighed in exasperation. She began to push Glorfindel's back and led him elsewhere. "We'll change right away… Oh, and Lord Círdan, sorry about the kitchen, tra-la-lay…"
Glorfindel allowed himself to be pushed along the corridors, sparing a confused look at both Círdan and Gildor. The lady behind him continued pushing until they reached the upper halls. Their bedchambers were not so far away from each other, and they usually leave their rooms at the same time in the morning. When they stopped in front of his doors, Erynlith winked and ran off to her room.
"Get some rest, 'kay? I'll see you later, tra-lo?" She called out and disappeared in her room.
He shook his head and chuckled. His mind was set on changing clothes, not resting.
Back in the halls, Gildor almost gaped at Círdan when he allowed the two elves roam free after the incident. The cooks were horrified at the sight of the spilled food for luncheon and worse, their jar of cookies was not there. If Elrond should find out about this nonsense, Gildor would be ashamed. He and Erynlith were supposed to go there in behalf of Elrond; now, what did the other do with the kitchen? He sighed in defeat and looked at Círdan with the same accusing look.
"I cannot believe you did that," he breathed. He mentally noted to tell Erestor what happened here, and make the Chief Counselor reprimand his sister of her manners.
Círdan smiled. "Oh, but they are only having fun. Lord Glorfindel seems to like her company very much. They have become quite good friends this past month."
"She is influential," Gildor said dismissively. "I wouldn't be surprised if she had Glorfindel singing the way she does."
The very thought of it made Lord Círdan laugh.
Fire emanated from the deepest of his memories: memories he fought hard to forget, to bury as he opened his eyes for the first time in a thousand years. He woke up in a body that was fixed, the face he so painfully remembered; absentmindedly, his hands raked though his golden tresses, and he flinched at that feeling. Fear raced in his veins, the fire growing wilder and fiercer as he remembered who he was.
Laurëfindil of Gondolin, mighty among the mightiest of warriors, Captain of the Wise King.
Darkness enveloped him, and slowly, fire reached his feet, engulfing his body as he fought the demon that had so boldly appeared in front of him. The echoing roars of the demon shook him, and his screams faded into the night.
Glorfindel sat up from his bed, shaking and panting. Sweat trickled from his forehead, hands clutched tightly on the white sheets. His eyes sharply looked around for the fire; at a moment's notice he was confused, forgetting himself. Finding neither fire nor demon, he leaned back on the headboard, trying to compose his unsteady breathing.
It was the reason why he did not rest; the very reason why he refused to blink even an eye despite the growing weariness. It had been a month, he knew, but he cared less.
The moment his eyes closed, the fire ignited again. Glorfindel jumped from his bed, eyes blurring from his daze, and his hands slipped onto the table, breaking a nearby vase in the process.
Get it together, he reminded himself desperately.
Having had enough of the chaos that happened in the morning, Glorfindel felt obliged to pick up the shards of the broken vase. Lord Círdan would be disappointed if he found out. Hands shook as he reached out for the broken glass, and as he picked one, it slipped and gashed his palm. He groaned from the pain and quickly tore a strip from his white sheets, wrapping it around his bleeding hand. Once the vase was discarded, he looked out of the window. It was already night and he could not believe that he slept for far too long.
No wonder my nightmares returned.
Glorfindel fixed himself poorly and headed out of his elegant bedchambers, resolved in finding comfort. He arrived in the halls and saw no one there. His eyebrow arched in confusion, eyes probing around in search for the other elves. He let out a tired sigh and left the fortress, taking the track he and Erynlith used that morning. He held his bleeding hand close to his chest, with him still wincing inwardly at the pain. The calls of the waves soothed him temporarily. He did not dare to close his eyes anymore. If there was one thing he was determined, that was to get himself free of the demons.
"Ah, there you are!" Someone chirped behind him. He turned and smiled weakly when Erynlith ran towards him. "Where have you been? You missed dinner, tra-la! And Gildor was asking for you, tra-lo… oh, I rhymed!"
"I was… distracted," he said, avoiding her laughing grey eyes. "What did Gildor want?"
Her expression lightened more. "He wants to return to Rivendell anytime soon, tra-lay. Says he is quite restless and Elrond probably is, too. Are you ready to leave for Rivendell?"
He nodded. "Ready as always."
"That's great!" She continued beaming. "When we get back, I'll introduce you to Erestor, tra-la-la…"
"It sounds magnificent."
Suddenly, the enthusiastic minstrel stopped her singing. Her eyes fell on the bandaged hand, clutched closely to the warrior's chest. A head shorter than him, it always made Erynlith look up to him, just like now, as she gave him a worried look. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"Oh, yes, I am." Glorfindel was quick on his denial. He waved the slightly aching hand for her to see. "I broke a vase in my chambers. Too reckless, wouldn't you agree?"
"You have to be more careful," she insisted. "Also, Olórin plans to stay here rather than travel with us. In the end, it'll be me, you, Gildor, and the others. Let's hope you can last a month of traveling."
"I have traveled long distances than you. Believe me on that." He laughed quietly.
"One more thing," Erynlith chirped, smiling deviously at him. "Since we missed you at dinner, some of your constant admirers were disappointed. Did you get a good rest like I told you?"
"Not really." He sighed.
"Why not?"
"Doesn't matter." He smiled reassuringly at her. He quickened his pace, letting her catch up to him this time. The worried look on his friend's face still did not leave. "So! Tell me more about Rivendell and Lord Elrond… Spring is passing, though. I will not see the valley with all the blooming flowers like you told me."
"Summer in Rivendell is also good, tra-lay. And when we get home, you'll hear Lindir singing to his heart's content, tra-la…" Her voice faded into the end, and thinking of the younger minstrel made her want to sing in the Halls of Fire again.
Glorfindel smiled. "May I also hear you singing to your heart's content, then?"
"Oh, I will sing for the rest of my life."
And with that, she began singing again, songs that sounded strange to the golden elf. But he did not mind; he graciously listened to her as they walked once again along the sandy beaches.
The demons had left him; they were not crawling their way back into his mind. Glorfindel knew they would return soon. Thus, he would keep himself close to that one who gave him comfort, his voice quietly singing 'tra-la-lay' with her.
Next Chapter: Journey home. Troubles. More demons.
Author's Notes: Awww! My baby Glorfindel! Come here and let me hug you~!
And WOW! Really, wow! I never realized Glorfindel has such many fangirls! (Or maybe I am not just paying attention to other fics?) He has definitely become my most favourite elf in the whole Tolkien legendarium, but in this fic, I'll complicate his character even more. *cringes* What do you guys think? Shall we have an awesome Glorfee party? *already wears party hat*
*only-one-mirkwood-princess - Why do I have the feeling that you will bludgeon dear Glorfee to death? （・□・；）
*Rosiethehobbit17 - *pulls out notebook* Okay, Rosie as a member of the anti-Celairis group. Check!
Glorfindel?! *hugs him obsessively* Noooo, I am not selling Glorfindel... unless you have the "green" with you. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
*Asmodeus Black - Oh, yes! This is fabulous! Aw, don't worry! We shall have Thranduil in a few chapters...
*llcyyxx - Oh my sweet summer child... We shall see when the story unfolds! (That is a Game of Thrones reference by the way.)
*DeLacus - Let us all bask in the glory of Glorfindel! Like the previous chapter, I was fangirling for hours as I proofread the chapter. *squeals*
*SparklesJustReads - #TeamThrandy/Eryn all the way! Though you are quite right; Celairis does not seem too bad. I really do not like our favourite Elvenking to be taken by "the other woman". Besides, I do not think Thranduil would allow himself to be taken that easily! As for Glorfindel, now I know he has so many fans. The handsome, brave, dashing... *internally screaming* As I do not read other fics, I cannot really imagine our baby Glorfee to be a jerk. I have always imagined him as a formal and modest elf...
Enough of me ranting! Thank you for the review! ( ˘ ³˘)
*Rousdower - Rooussssyy! Rousy! Where have you been?! I've missed you! *tackles you* Ohh, I have seen the summary of your new Glorfindel/OC fic (which I have not read because I do not have enough time), but congratulations on the success! Let us all celebrate with a dance! (┌・。・)┌
Wrapping all that up, I am very grateful of everyone's lovely reviews! And here I am still squealing in front of the computer. This chapter marks the first signs of complications. We'll still see in the upcoming chapters. Enjoy this one first, folks! For my fellow fangirls, here's Glorfindel for you!