Chapter 42

The Balrog-slayer

Glorfindel was restless yet again. The evening of celebration was a good reason not to sleep. Yet here he was, standing in the middle of his room, unsure of what to do. The weather was already too cold for his liking, but Erynlith had been too cheerful about another upcoming celebration called Yule. Whatever it was, he regarded it as interesting and looked forward on spending it with her. He knew he needed rest; the training of the new guards was pressing in on him, and Elrond had many expectations on the new captain.

Sighing tiredly, Glorfindel stripped himself of his clothing and went into the bathing chambers, determined to let off some steam before going to rest.

"Interesting… It must have been bound during the late First Age… Look at these strange runes…"

Erynlith timidly listened to Erestor admiring an ancient book from the library, something that was written in the High Elven-tongue, the same language Círdan and Gildor used in greeting the newcomers from the West. She remembered Glorfindel being referred as Laurefindil, which Erestor had now thoughtfully translated as "golden-haired": Glorfindel. She suppressed a yawn coming up as Erestor continued reading and translating the dusty book she found. It was Elrond's idea for her to research something about Glorfindel's past, an attempt to help him readjust in his new life in Imladris.

And she was determined on doing that.

Erestor read the book in the night, from the first page until they reached the middle. He felt like a father telling his daughter a bedtime story, and he smiled at the thought. He and Erynlith were like this when she was younger, back when their outlook on each other was father and daughter. Without asking Elrond, Erestor already knew who Glorfindel was, only trying not to look or sound too interested. But he felt pity for the Elda; it must have been a hard time for him. He read stories about Beleriand, of its tales and ancient songs, and of Gondolin: its Wise King, the Twelve Houses of the Gondolindrim, and so forth. He had told stories of how Gondolin was ambushed in the middle of a feast, and how doom was written that day. He mentioned a Balrog, a demon of might, and Erynlith associated it with the fire, thunder and lightning that Glorfindel always spoke of.

"So, you mean to say is… Glorfindel was pulled by his hair and fell to his death?" She asked in disbelief. She felt fear creeping up in her veins, and then shrugged it away. There was no wonder why her friend was too afraid of his own nightmares.

Erestor nodded, sipping from his tea. "The Balrog pulled him down by the hair and they both perished from falling off a cliff. An eagle bore his body away and it was buried somewhere near Gondolin. You should not mention that to him, however, or it will spark another fear in him, and he might lose himself again."

She felt sorry for Glorfindel. "What happened to Gondolin after that?"

"It was lost," Erestor said quickly. "After the heroic deed of Glorfindel, his people successfully escaped and some lived." He left out that Elrond was the son of the child Glorfindel saved that day.

"Do you think I can learn some songs in Quenya?" She asked again, leaning closer from her seat.

A dark eyebrow arched up. "What for?"

Erynlith shrugged lightly. "I wanted to learn how to sing in Quenya. Why not, right? Erestor?"

He sighed in defeat and took a paper and a quill. He began to write some songs that he knew, mostly some songs about tales and such. Over his shoulder, Erynlith watched as he wrote elegantly in Elvish runes. Not long after, Erestor gave her the paper and said: "Give this to Lindir. He knows how to sing that."

"Thank you!" She kissed his cheek and immediately bolted outside his room.

"Hey!" Erestor called out. "Close the door when— ugh, never mind."

The demon was howling with laughter. He took pleasure in tormenting the scared elves. The golden one in front of him looked might and defiant enough, but his heaving chest betrayed his masked courage. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed, the demon hurled itself against the golden elf. It was confident beyond words, and it wished to soak the ground with the elf's blood. It wanted to smear that golden banner with the red of his blood, to break his bones and burn it with its flames. And when the elf lay dead, the ashes of his body should strike fear in the heart of the fleeing others. The two combatants fought long, and the victory of the golden elf was absolute. In its final attempt of vengeance, the demon pulled the flowing golden tresses, entangling its wicked claws there as it forcefully drew the elf down with him to the dark oblivion. And the final sounds that the elf heard was the wicked laugher of the demon.

Everyone who heard the terrified scream rushed into the long passageways. Almost all the important figures in Imladris broke into a run: Erynlith, Erestor, Gildor, Elrond and Celebrían. Their company was led by Erynlith, and she knew exactly where to go. Arriving there, the doors were locked, and she cried out his name. Another fearful scream answered them. Erestor rushed in and pounded on the door, and finally, Elrond kicked the latches. Grand double doors opened, and the elves entered. They gasped at the sight of Glorfindel.

He was lying on the cold floor, a knife in his unsteady hand. He was sobbing and shouting in the High Elven-tongue, his free hand clutching hard on his golden head. As Erynlith came closer, she gasped again. Glorfindel had cut off his long golden hair, the remnants pooled about his sweaty and trembling form.

When she called out to him, her voice as soft as always, Glorfindel abruptly stood up and clutched the knife tighter in his right hand. His sapphire eyes were constricted, probing eagerly around the room. But his vision was blurry and his ears could not comprehend the assuring words offered to him. When he blinked his eyes again, one dark figure was approaching him, and he held his knife higher.

"Glorfindel…" Erynlith whispered, walking towards him slowly.

"Erynlith, no!" Erestor shouted from behind her, cautious of the knife that Glorfindel held aloft. "Get away from him!"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "This is Glorfindel, Erestor, not a mindless creature. He needs to be comforted." With that, she continued her way towards him. "Glorfindel? It's Erynlith… Put down the knife, mellon nin. Please…"

But the words were not processed by his mind. Lightning flashed before his eyes and he was startled. Glorfindel felt someone holding him down by his shoulders, trying to embrace him, and he shouted again. He grabbed a fistful of hair, and in a feat of terror, ran his knife through it.

"Eryn!" Erestor rushed as Glorfindel unconsciously grabbed Erynlith. He tore off the golden elf's strong grip on her and pushed him backwards, with the warrior hitting the wall of his chambers. He collapsed again on the floor, tears falling from his eyes. Erestor turned to Erynlith and lifted her chin. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, momentarily dazed from the unexpected assault. She looked down where Glorfindel lay. The golden hair that pooled on the foot of the bed was joined with her long umber hair. Erestor ran his fingers through her hair, now cascading past her shoulders. But what she held tightly was her wounded arm, caught up by Glorfindel's knife. In his anger, Erestor gritted his teeth and rounded towards the captain, ready to give him punishment for the assault.

"Erestor, no!" Erynlith grabbed his shoulders. "Please, no. Let me handle this. Please… Elrond tell him!"

Elrond walked over to Erestor and patted his shoulder lightly. Those who had watched the unstable Glorfindel were dumbfounded. Gildor and Celebrían were speechless but offered their pity to the sobbing golden elf. Elrond whispered something in his counselor's ear, something that would change his mind. Reluctantly, Erestor nodded.

"Shall I tend to your wounds now?" The half-elf looked worried.

"Later." She smiled at him as the others began to leave.

When they were finally alone, Erynlith pressed on to her wound tighter, drawing out blood and wincing in pain. She knelt in front of Glorfindel, wiping away the locks of hair that were cut off. She reached out for his face, lifting his chin up to look at him. And Glorfindel complied; his face flushed red, his eyes puffy from crying all night. The knife in his hand was discarded as he realized who was holding him. It was the familiar face that always comforted him every night he had a nightmare. There was the smile that he missed so much. Erynlith gently picked him up from the floor and pulled him into the bed.

"Please… Do not leave…"

She sat beside him. "I will not leave, Glorfindel."

"The demon returned," he said, his voice shaking and tears fell again. "He pulled me by the hair, so I cut mine. There is nothing to pull now… I am so tired of fighting the demon again and again and again…"

She curled up to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. Like he always did, Glorfindel rested his head near her chest, where he could hear her heart beating. His left hand held her waist firmly, not wanting to let her go. Fingers wound through his now short golden hair which also fell past his shoulders. He bit his lower lip to keep himself from sobbing again.

"You are my guiding light. Please do not leave me."

Others who heard about his rebirth had always told him how lucky he was to have another chance in life. He supposed they were right, not all elves were given second chance of redemption. But did the Valar choose the right elf? There were many who succeeded him in might and prowess, of skill and of wisdom. But why him? The other elves did not know the confusion he felt when the decision was made. He wanted to decline, to stop all the memories and succumbed into the Halls of Mandos. There was a task waiting for him in Middle-earth, and that was to serve and protect the son of the child he saved in Gondolin: Elrond. The others had always complimented him of his fortune, on how Elrond and the others pampered him almost every day. He was the Captain of Rivendell; maidens and guards alike were captivated by his very presence. Add the fact that his appearance was extremely comely; he was almost treated like a lord superior than Elrond. But they did not know what lay behind the doors of his bedchambers. A screaming, terrified elf— he would shake under his covers for hours until dawn breaks.

Others did not see the bruises he left on his beloved friend, that one friend who would leave the comfort of her room just to ease his fear. They did not hear her soft singing; she learned how to sing in the High Elven-tongue for she knew it would ease him. They did not know the reason their hair was short or the reason why her arm was bandaged in the next few days. He was regretful for that act, and he would not do it again. Others did not see how he almost submitted himself into his fears, how he would was descended into madness if not for the selfless love that his friend had for him. Her gentle words, touches and smiles kept him going every day. She was the reason why he was motivated to get off his cold bed and face the difficulty of his new life.

Two friends walked hand in hand around Imladris. A red scarf was around Erynlith's neck for the winter had come and the valley was covered with nothing but snow. She took delight in the cold weather. It gave her enough reason to sit in front of the hearth and snug closely to her brother. Perhaps this year would be different. With intertwined fingers, Glorfindel smiled as he walked down the aisle with her, his own red scarf warming him. It was a gift from Gildor, and they were the only elves who wore them around Imladris. Yule was fast approaching, and he was ecstatic to celebrate the strange event with her.

"Oh, good morning," Celebrían cheerfully greeted when they entered the Halls of Fire. No one was there except Erestor, who was speaking to the lady prior of their arrival.

"Good morning, Lady Celebrían," Glorfindel greeted and took the seat beside Erynlith, as she settled herself parallel to Erestor's seat. "Where are the children?" He had always thought of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen as children.

Celebrían smiled warmly. "They are keeping their father in his study room. Those three want some grand Yule celebration next week, and Elrond keeps on declining them." She laughed softly. "How is your arm, Erfaron? Does it still hurt?"

Upon hearing that, Glorfindel was the first to react. He flinched, and Erestor noticed him do so. Everyone knew how sorry he was for the assault, for cutting her hair and wounding her arm. He was immediately forgiven, but Erestor did not. The longer Erynlith stayed with Glorfindel, the more Erestor felt hostile with the golden elf. As Erynlith answered Celebrían's question, Glorfindel looked down on the arm that Elrond had neatly wrapped up. It was not entirely a deep wound, but it worried him. He remembered the poisoned wound she still had on her right wrist, the one that made her tears fall on an autumn night.

Absentmindedly, he touched her hand softly and gave her a worried look.

"I am fine, Glorfindel," Erynlith assured him. But he was not convinced. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

He nodded and they both stood up again, ready to leave the Halls of Fire. Then, Erestor's voice was trailed off with a huff.

"Balrog-slayer."

Instantly, Glorfindel froze and his eyes widened. No one had called him that before. Would he take it as a compliment? No, it would never be a compliment. If he accepted it, it would also mean he accepted his demise at the hands of the demon. His hand slipped away from Erynlith and he broke into a run, leaving his friend dazed at his sudden actions.

Erynlith glared at her brother. "Very good, Erestor."

"What?" His voice sounded innocent and uncaring. He stood up and towered over her, his dark eyes were defiant and almost demanding. Erestor was never the one for demands, and it scared her this time. "Eryn, look what he has done to you! He forces you every night to stay with him. And your hair and arm… Glorfindel is an uncontrollable elf. He is almost a mindless creature! Let Elrond handle him this time. I do not wish to see you getting hurt again."

"But I am not hurt, Erestor!" She argued. "You know very well how Glorfindel still feels about his past life. You shouldn't have called him a Balrog-slayer! It was rude and heartless of you!"

Erestor fell silent as he watched her leave the Halls. Did he hear it right? Was Erynlith was finally defying him? For all the years they had been together, she had not been too rebellious to him. Whatever Erestor asked of her, she would listen, even if it meant abandoning what she wanted. Was it not the case when she left Greenwood? She left to follow him back to Imladris, because he wanted to. She left Thranduil and chose to be with him, because she loved Erestor more than the Prince. Such was her selfless love for everybody. But now… she was choosing Glorfindel over Erestor. Was he supposed to feel threatened now? Will Glorfindel usurp Erynlith's attention and love from Erestor?

Celebrían tapped his shoulder, well knowing that he was surprised of Erynlith's harsh words. She smiled at him and pulled him back to the seat where he once was.

"Eryn was right," she gently told the dark-haired counselor. "You should have limited your words in front of Lord Glorfindel. He still relies on Erynlith's comfort and you know that. Be more open-minded next time, dear counselor…"

"I will, and I am sorry," was all Erestor had to say for himself.

Glorfindel wanted to ignore the light footsteps that approached him, but how could be ignore her? He sighed and looked up just as she took the seat beside him. He did not say anything. Instead, he returned his eyes on the thick white blanket that covered the courtyard. More snow pooled at his feet and he buried his dark boots beneath them, the coldness seeping through the leather. Light snow fell on his golden head and lap. He reached out for one and felt its coldness melting. Erynlith did not speak to him. She simply looked at the direction where he looked. He was in no mood to talk; he was too stricken of the name Erestor had called him.

Finally, Erynlith sighed and began to talk.

"Did you come all the way here just to brood?"

Glorfindel did not answer. But Erynlith smiled and continued:

"I can see my room from here."

And his supposed cold demeanor was broken, and he laughed. "I always wonder why I cannot stay mad when you're around."

"Simple." She winked and scooted closer, her head resting against his shoulder. "I am the best elf in Imladris. Now, wouldn't you agree, dear Captain of the Guards?"

"I thought you were going to say Balrog-slayer." He looked at her mischievously.

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh, do you want me to call you that?"

"I don't mind if it's you who will call me that," Glorfindel said, smiling. "If it is you, dear Erynlith, I might as well slay another Balrog."

Next Chapter: *drum rolls* Raithon arrives in Imladris!

Author's Notes: I know, I owe you guys LOTS of apologies for the VERY late update! I promised last chapter that I would be back in a week and here I am updating the story... one and a half month later! Can you believe how fast time flies? Truly though, I am sorry for the delay. It seemed like a tiring month for me, and truth be told: I lost motivation to write. So, during that one and a half month of absence, I tried to read books again (I finished 6 books, actually). Hopefully, I can continue and update the story as much as I am able (and hope that school doesn't get in the way).

*Frostfire613 - I think it is still a Celairis/Thrand/Eryn/Glorfindel story. Phew, that's a lot of ships!

*StarofSea - Welcome! I know this is a very late reply, but I remember smiling while reading your long review! I absolutely love reading all of it! There is so much to reply to your review, but here goes: yes, the characters do things that can make you love/hate him or her, and it is enjoyable to write eccentric Eryn with her singing and Thrandy being tsundere. Would you like to see the clash between Glorfy and Thrandy? Oh my, what a chapter it would make! Also, would you like to see Legolas here? Last thing, the High King is Gil-galad. I really didn't mention a name because it would make his death sadder (Did it even work or is it just me?)

Wrapping all that up, I am glad you like reading this story! It's very nice to meet you; sending love from Spain to Mexico!

*Asmodeus Black - Don't worry! I'll make sure Thrandy and Eryn will meet again, and then Celairis will learn her place. MUA HA HA HA!

*fan - Sorry to know that you're losing interest. We'll get there, but not yet! We'll see who becomes Thrandy's queen and Legolas's mother. Thanks for the review!

*Rei - Sorry to keep you waiting for so long! Long live Thrandy/Eryn! :)

*Eirithdiel - For all we know, Thrandy might have sent a bottle of wine to her. XD Thanks for the review!

*Am4444- Oooh, well that's a thought! Kill off Celairis and let Thrandy/Eryn live happily ever after. I'll note that!

Goodness! I missed replying to everyone's reviews! Since many of you ask about Legolas's appearance, I have a question: would you want him to appear in this story, or in the sequel? Judging from the plot that I have in mind, this story would still go on for quite long. Legolas might appear here, or if you want, in the sequel. You know your opinions can change mine, so yeah!

Thank you all for reading. I hope you like this one! (Poor Glorfy; here, lemme give you a kiss and a hug). See you next chapter!