41: A Slow Recovery

Glorfindel was barely stirring when Námo was suddenly there. Ingwion didn’t even have time to react. The Lord of Mandos placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder.

"Have someone find your atar, Ingwion," Námo said quietly, keeping his eyes on the slowly stirring ellon, still clutching his stuffed toy. Ingwion nodded and went to the door, calling the first person he saw and giving her his instructions. Then he returned to stand beside the bed in time to see Glorfindel open his eyes, to blink blearily up at him. If he noticed Námo standing there he gave no sign.

"Ingwion," Glorfindel’s voice was weak and hoarse. The ellon tried to sit up but seemed to have some trouble in coordination. Ingwion sat on the bed next to the ellon’s head and helped Glorfindel into a sitting position, using himself as a support for Glorfindel to lean against. The Noldo sighed from the exertion and closed his eyes.

Námo handed Ingwion a goblet filled with water. Ingwion nodded his thanks then placed the goblet to Glorfindel’s lips. "Here, meldonya, drink this. It will help."

Glorfindel dutifully opened his mouth and drank without bothering to open his eyes as Ingwion held the goblet for him.

"All of it, Glorfindel," Námo said, and the ellon opened his eyes in surprise, but did as the Vala commanded. When all the water had been drunk, Námo took the goblet from Ingwion and the prince shifted his position to make it more comfortable for Glorfindel to lean against him. Glorfindel still felt weak but his mind was clearing and he began to remember. He stared up at the Vala.

"Was it a dream?"

Námo shook his head. "Nay, it was not. Neither was it reality. Somehow you and others, including Ingwë, managed to slip into the Past." The Vala held up his hand to still Glorfindel’s questions. "I cannot tell you how it happened because we do not know. You shouldn’t have been able to do what you did in the first place and the fact that you did at all is troubling to us. We are sorry for any pain it may have caused you, child. It was never our intention."

Glorfindel nodded, feeling suddenly tired and leaned further into Ingwion’s embrace. "I woke up and the High King was gone. I couldn’t find him and then..." Memory became clearer then and he saw himself meeting the Maiar and being led towards Taniquetil. He looked up at Námo with fear in his eyes and tried to squirm out of Ingwion’s embrace, but to no avail. "I didn’t know... I didn’t know... I wouldn’t have... I wanted to but I..."

Námo sat on the edge of the bed and took the now weeping ellon into his arms and held him. "I do not blame you, child. No one does. If you had gone with Manveru it would have been well, for we had summoned you. That you misunderstood is not your fault. Hush now, there’s no need for tears. You’re safe and no one’s angry at you."

Glorfindel continued weeping for another minute, struggling to get himself under control. It was then that there was a knock at the door. Námo sent a silent word of command and the door opened of its own accord, admitting Ingwë. The High King entered and took in the scene at once, seeing his son rubbing Glorfindel’s back and whispering something in the ellon’s ear, words of comfort he had no doubt. He also noticed the stuffed toy that Glorfindel clung to with one hand as he nestled in Námo’s embrace and his heart went out to the Noldo.

He closed the door and sat in the chair by the bed, leaning over to place a hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder, refusing to acknowledge the Vala’s presence. "I understand you were looking for me, child," he said softly.

Glorfindel looked up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "M-my lord, you are safe."

Ingwë nodded. "Yes, I am safe. I hear you had a bit of an adventure."

Glorfindel nodded but did not reply. He closed his eyes again and snuggled deeper into Námo’s embrace and, giving a sigh, fell asleep once again. "I’ll take him, my lord." Námo nodded to Ingwion as he passed Glorfindel into the prince’s embrace. The prince accepted the burden and held the sleeping ellon close to him, pulling the covers over them both and making sure the stuffed toy was firmly in Glorfindel’s grasp. It was then that Ingwë noticed the yellowing bruises on Glorfindel’s wrists and scowled.

He finally looked at Námo, who had not moved except to brush his hand against Glorfindel’s head, stroking his hair. "The Chief of Healers spoke to me at length," he said softly so as not to disturb Glorfindel. "If I had known..."

Námo nodded. "I know, Ingwë. I do not blame you. I do not even blame your healers. They were not to know what had happened to Glorfindel and were unprepared for his reaction upon waking." He paused and gave the High King a sad smile. "If you had let us help..."

Ingwë scowled again but did not contradict the Vala. "Will he be all right? No one else seems to have suffered much from the ordeal. Why is he..."

"Everyone else is much, much older than he, Ingwë," Námo replied. "And being Reborn did not help. He lost much of his ability to resist certain psychic disturbances once his fëa was returned to its primal state of innocence. He’s really very much the elfling in that respect. His recovery, I fear, will be slow. Great care must be taken to assure that he feels secure and loved and held blameless for what happened to him. That’s why I asked Ingwion to be here. Glorfindel already trusts him as a friend and that trust will be needed in the days and weeks to come."

Ingwë nodded, glancing at his son, who returned his nod with one of his own. "I want to help, Atar," the prince said. "After all, you told me he was my responsibility."

Ingwë smiled. "So I did. Very well. It will be as you say, my Lord Námo." His tone was somewhat stiff as he addressed the Vala directly and Námo grieved at that, though he gave no outward sign.

"Thank you," the Vala said simply. "He’s very precious to me. To us."

Ingwë stared at the Lord of Mandos for a moment as if gauging the level of sincerity in the Vala’s words. Finally he nodded. "And to me, as well."

****

Glorfindel’s recovery was indeed slow. He spent most of the next week or so sleeping, rousing just long enough to take in sustenance and attend to personal needs. Ingwion stayed with him most of the time, or Findis, when she found out what had happened to her "nephew".

Alassiel also came by, though he did not know it, being fast asleep, and she did not stay long, for she was concerned for her amillë. When Glorfindel woke Ingwion told him of Alassiel’s visit. The ellon smiled and his eyes brightened with interest for the first time since his "adventure", as everyone was calling it, for lack of a better word.

By the end of the second week, though, Glorfindel began to recover enough to take an interest in things again, though he was still too weak to leave his bed for any length of time. Ingwë visited twice and the two spent some hours comparing notes.

When Glorfindel asked, Ingwë described Cuiviénen to him, telling him what it had felt like to awaken for the first time to see the stars above him and hear the lullaby being sung to him by Ilúvatar. Glorfindel wept at Ingwë’s words and the High King took him into his arms to comfort him. Ingwë decided to distract the ellon with a question of his own.

"What was it like... being back in Gondolin?" Ingwë asked.

For a moment, Glorfindel did not respond, then, slowly, softly, he began to speak. "It was so... so lifeless. Not even the fountains ran anymore. The air was cold and unspeakably dead, as if a pall lay over all. It was home and it wasn’t. It was a city of the dead and I was no longer dead. I-I didn’t belong there anymore. I-I don’t th-think I belong anywhere anymore." This last was said with such a sense of despair that Ingwë tightened his hold on the ellon and began rocking him.

"You belong here, child, in Aman," he said. "This is where you were born and grew up. This will always be home, even if you don’t think so. Somewhere deep inside you know this to be true."

"In Gondolin..."

"In Gondolin, what, child?"

Glorfindel looked up at the High King. "In Gondolin I felt wanted and... and needed... and my king... my king loved me..." He couldn’t go on for he began weeping again.

"You’re wanted here, Glorfindel," Ingwë replied, hoping his words would get through the sense of desolation he heard in the Noldo’s words. "And needed. Arafinwë needs you more than you can ever guess, and Findaráto. You are loved by so many people, including ... including the Valar... Lord Námo especially, I think. Can you find no comfort in that, child? Can you not see past your pain and open yourself to the love that is all around you?"

"D-do you love me?" Glorfindel asked in a small voice, unsure of the answer.

"Oh, child," Ingwë said as he started to weep himself, but laughing at the same time. "I’ve loved you from the moment you stepped forward to introduce yourself and insulted me to my face. I could not help but love you at that moment."

Glorfindel giggled in spite of himself and settled deeper into the High King’s embrace, content to remain there for a time, feeling the softness of Ingwë’s beard as he ran his fingers through it. He was fascinated by the beard, never having seen any elf with one before. Eventually he fell asleep again. Ingwë had a time disentangling the ellon’s fingers from his beard when he wanted to leave.

****

By the third week, Glorfindel was finding his bed to be a prison and demanded to get up. Ingwion helped him dress and stayed close to his side as he walked the corridor outside his room, for Glorfindel had decided he wanted to eat breakfast in the dining room that morning. The ellon was white as a sheet before he had gotten too far and Ingwion had to carry him back to his room, much to Glorfindel’s embarrassment.

"Now, don’t fret so, meldonya," Ingwion admonished the younger elf. "I think you did very well to get as far as you did."

He set the ellon in a chair next to an embrasure overlooking one of the many gardens surrounding the palace. "Why don’t you sit here for the nonce and rest. I will bring you something cool to drink and a light repast. Later, we will try again. There’s no rush, you know."

"I’ve been nothing but trouble since I got here," Glorfindel complained with a scowl. "You must hate me."

Ingwion looked at the ellon in surprise. "Hate you! Whyever would I hate you, meldonya?"

But Glorfindel would not speak and Ingwion decided to let it pass for the moment. He was troubled, for the ellon’s emotional recovery seemed slower than it should have been. None of the others who had slipped into the Past appeared to be unduly harmed by the experience and seemed fully recovered. His own atar assured him that it was so. Glorfindel, on the other hand, was querulous and short-tempered most of the time and there was no joy in his eyes anymore. This grieved the older ellon more than anything. It was what had attracted Glorfindel to him in the first place, that joyfulness that seemed to be an integral part of him. He had wondered if all Reborn had that same sense of joy about them. Fearing for his new friend, Ingwion sought out the one person he thought might help.

"You wished to see me, young Ingwion?" Námo asked.

He had agreed to meet with the prince when Olórin gave him the message. Ingwion had simply spoken into the thin air later that night when Glorfindel was sleeping and made his request, confident that someone would hear. He was only surprised that Námo’s message arrived as quickly as it did, little realizing how desperate the Valar were to make amends. Ingwë had not spoken to any of the Valar since encountering Námo in Glorfindel’s room, nor had he come to Taniquetil on Valanya, the High Day among the Eldar, as was his wont, which grieved the Valar, Manwë especially. So it was with some relief that Námo agreed to meet with the prince.

They met in a courtyard on Taniquetil. Ingwion appeared overly nervous and Námo attempted to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

"I am concerned about Glorfindel," Ingwion said without preamble, deciding not to beat around the bush. He suspected that the Vala was quite aware of Glorfindel’s mental and emotional state, but had learned early in his life that for some reason the Valar appeared to want the Eldar to tell them what the Eldar suspected the Valar already knew. He never understood it, but he accepted it as what it was.

"As am I," Námo said. He knew what Ingwion was thinking and hid a smile. It would not do to tell the young ellon that it wasn’t a question of already knowing something on the part of the Valar, but rather a delight in listening to these Children tell them of their discoveries as they explored their world. The Eldar could little appreciate how new everything was to them and how much delight the Valar and Maiar took in seeing the universe through the Eldar’s younger eyes.

"I don’t know what to do to help him," Ingwion admitted forlornly. "He has no joy in him any more and I... I fear for him."

Námo looked upon the ellon sympathetically. He, of course, had visited Glorfindel several times in the past week, though he had not allowed his Presence to be felt by any of the Eldar and was equally concerned by Glorfindel’s listlessness. Not even a visit from Alassiel, when the ellon was awake, had seemed to help, though Glorfindel was relieved to hear that Lirulin was slowly recovering from fading and appeared to be wanting to live again. That had been a worry to him and he was glad for Alassiel’s sake, but it was not enough to drag him out of his own fit of depression.

"Can you help him?" Ingwion asked doubtfully when Námo did not immediately respond.

"What would you like me to do, child? I cannot order Glorfindel to be happy again."

"I-I just thought... I mean... he seems to like you... I don’t know why... oh! that didn’t come out the way I meant... I’m sorry...."

Námo started laughing and threw an arm around the prince’s shoulders and hugged him. "I don’t know why he likes me either, child, so we’re both in the dark about that."

Ingwion relaxed somewhat, embarrassed at his gaffe but mollified by the Vala’s words. "Sorry. I only meant that the two of you seem to have a special relationship and maybe you can talk to him or... or something," he ended lamely, now feeling even more embarrassed by his temerity in seeking out the Vala for such a paltry reason.

"Your concern for Glorfindel does you credit, Ingwion," Námo said. "And I am honored that you would seek my help in this matter. Glorfindel’s health is a concern for us all." The Vala sighed and stood up, staring at nothing in particular. "Unfortunately, our hands, my hands especially, are tied. Your atar’s anger precludes us from offering our help and we cannot intervene."

"Atar may have forsaken you, but I have not," Ingwion said with some heat as he too stood to face the Vala.

"Ingwion..."

"No, my lord," the ellon protested. "Atar gave me responsibility for Glorfindel. I am not an elfling needing anyone’s permission. I do not forbid the help of any, Elda or Vala. Glorfindel is more than my friend. I will not stand by and watch him fade just because Atar is in a temper over what happened. That is between you and him."

"He is your king, Ingwion," Námo said somewhat darkly. "Would you defy your king?"

Ingwion shook his head. "But he has not spoken to me as king, only as my atar. He has not decreed that none shall call upon the Valar. Indeed, many of our people still continue to serve you here and in Valmar, do they not?" Námo nodded and Ingwion continued. "Atar is not a tyrant, my lord. He may not like that I come to you for help, but he cannot forbid it."

For a long moment the Vala looked at the ellon standing determinedly before him and finally smiled. "I am glad one of you has some sense."

"Atar is angry, my lord," Ingwion admitted ruefully. "But his anger is directed more at himself, at his sense of helplessness, than it is directed towards any of the Valar. He’ll come around soon enough. You just have to give him time."

"He will be given all the time he needs, child."

Ingwion spun around to see Manwë and Varda standing there and bowed, suddenly feeling uncertain in the presence of the Elder King and his Spouse. Manwë smiled warmly and beckoned for the ellon to approach, laying his hands on Ingwion’s shoulders when he did.

"Glorfindel is fortunate to have so staunch a champion as you, my child. Never fear. We will do all we can to help your friend. He is too important to Aman, to Arda, for us not to."

"What will you do, lord?" Ingwion asked, feeling hopeful for the first time since coming to Taniquetil.

"Why, give Glorfindel what he most desires," Manwë said with a light laugh. "Or rather, almost," the Elder King amended. Then he proceeded to tell Ingwion his plan.

When the prince returned to Vanyamar, it was with a lighter heart.

****

Ingwion waited two days before deciding Glorfindel was strong enough. Glorfindel was able to make it to the dining room the day after his aborted attempt, though it drained him completely. He barely had the strength to lift a fork and Ingwion had to help him. Alassiel was there, as were Elessairon and the other Noldor, except Vorondil. They all greeted Glorfindel warmly and Alassiel helped feed him, much to Glorfindel’s embarrassment and secret delight.

"It is good to see you finally up and around, Glorfindel," Elessairon said with a grin. "I was getting bored."

"Oh, and why is that?" Glorfindel asked with something of his old enthusiasm.

"Nothing interesting has happened lately," came the reply. Elessairon gave Glorfindel a smirk.

"Except one of the palace cats decided to have her kittens underneath the High King’s throne," Ercassë said with a giggle.

"Well, you can’t blame me for that," Glorfindel said with feigned pique.

"Unfortunately, no," Elessairon said with a straight face and a mournful sigh.

That set everyone laughing, including Glorfindel, though everyone noticed how frail he sounded and grieved at the loss of joy that had permeated the ellon’s very being. Ingwion decided to take the Noldor and Alassiel into his confidence and they all brightened at the prospect of being a part of the "recovery mission", as Lómion put it.

The next day, Glorfindel was sitting in one of the gardens after breakfast conversing quietly with Alassiel, Elessairon, Lómion and the two Noldorin ellith. Ingwion appeared with a message tube in his hand, which he handed to Glorfindel.

"This came late last night," Ingwion said to a surprised Glorfindel. "You were already asleep, so I decided it would be best to wait until now to give it to you."

Glorfindel stared at the tube in his hand for a moment before opening it and pulling out the thin sheet of vellum inside it. The missive was wrapped with a blue ribbon to which was attached a large seal showing an eagle with wings outspread. He carefully broke the seal and opened the letter. Ingwion and the others watched as Glorfindel read what was written and saw the blood drain from the ellon’s face, yet, there was a look of joy that suffused the Noldo’s entire being and his eyes glittered brightly. It was the first time in weeks that Ingwion had seen such light in the younger ellon’s eyes and was glad.

Glorfindel looked up, his eyes wet with tears. "It’s from Lord Manwë," he said, speaking barely above a whisper. "He wants to see me. H-he says I can bring a friend...friends." He stopped, feeling hesitant, his expression suddenly uncertain.

"Would you like us to come with you?" Ingwion asked gently, indicating the others, and when Glorfindel nodded shyly, he gathered the ellon in his arms and hugged him. "We would be very honored, meldonya. Thank you."

The others all echoed Ingwion’s sentiment and Glorfindel smiled at the obvious warmth and love that he felt from the ellyn and ellith sitting with him.

"When and where does Lord Manwë wish to see you, Glorfindel?" Alassiel asked.

"Tomorrow evening in Valmar," he replied, pulling himself out of Ingwion’s embrace to answer the elleth. "I am to come at the second hour past sunset. Are... are you sure you all want to come?"

"Wouldn’t miss it for anything," Elessairon said with a wicked grin. "It’s bound to be interesting, especially with you there."

Glorfindel stuck his tongue out at the ellon and everyone laughed. The Valar’s plan seemed to be working already.