50: Taken

Glorfindel sipped his wine but could not relax. His thoughts kept wandering back to the Ring of Doom and the way he had felt, or not felt, while standing in the center of it, speaking of his Judgment.

He finally went to his room, requesting the noon meal be sent up to him. Until then, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. When the servant came up with a tray, he thanked her and set about eating, though he little tasted it. He placed the tray out in the corridor and then resumed his place on the bed, still thinking. Eventually, he fell asleep.

Something woke him, but he did not know what. By the slant of the sunlight streaming through his window, he knew it was late afternoon, though it would be several hours before he was due to meet the others for the evening meal. He felt suddenly restless and a need to escape the confines of the inn took him.

He grabbed his cloak and at the last minute picked up his new knife and strapped the sheath to his belt, feeling unaccountably better for it. He was reminded of the way he had felt early in his re-embodiment, wishing for a sword with which to protect himself, though there was nothing to guard against in the gardens of the Reborn.

He started towards the door, then hesitated. He did not want to be seen and he did not want to have to answer any questions that might be asked. A quick look out the window convinced him that he could leave that way without trouble. He did so, careful to close the window after him. Thus, Ingwion never realized which way Glorfindel had taken when he left the inn.

****

Vorondil was feeling bored. Tulcaner had scouted the Inn of the Laughing Vala and had learned that Glorfindel was going to remain there that day. He and the other elves who were a part of his plans had decided to take the elf from the inn by way of the window to the ellon’s room. The window in question looked out on a narrow alley that ran behind the inn. No one would see them.

However, their plans went awry when one of Tulcaner’s men reported that Glorfindel had joined the party of Noldor going to the Ezellohar at the last moment. Vorondil nearly screamed in rage. Then luck found them, for the Noldor returned earlier than expected and Glorfindel did not leave the inn when the others left again a while later. Here was his chance. Tulcaner, however, counseled caution and so they waited, Tulcaner inside the inn, Vorondil in a courtyard across from it, nursing some wine.

Thus, it was Vorondil who saw Glorfindel nonchalantly strolling out of the alley onto the street fronting the inn, and head towards the north gate of Valmar. Vorondil quickly made his way to the inn and gestured to Tulcaner.

"There you are, sir," he said, attempting to sound like a respectful servant. "My lord bids you to come at once."

Tulcaner raised his eyebrow at the ellon but complied without a word and soon the two of them were walking swiftly down the street after Glorfindel.

"Alert the others," Vorondil ordered quietly. "I will follow the Reborn."

"Where do you think he goes?" Tulcaner asked, but Vorondil did not know.

Glorfindel apparently did not know either, for he seemed to be wandering aimlessly, stopping here and there and admiring this and that, never staying at any one place for very long. This was fortunate for Vorondil for it gave the others time to catch up with him. There were six of them, not including Vorondil and Tulcaner. Vorondil did not know what grievance they might have against the Reborn, but he suspected their hatred was more against the Exilic Noldor. It didn’t matter, so long as they did as he ordered.

Glorfindel eventually made his way to the north gate and entered Valmar proper, strolling nonchalantly down the avenue, though he did not bother to stop at the fountain where the bells tolled sweetly in a light breeze.

As he reached Námo’s mansion, he stopped and stared through the carnelian gate for the longest time. Vorondil and the others were hard-pressed to look as if they were merely sightseeing and the young Noldo fumed.

"What is he doing?" he whispered to Tulcaner in frustration as he leaned against a malinornë pretending to be fishing a stone out of his shoe.

"Maybe he wants the Lord of Mandos to come out and play," Tulcaner said and Vorondil gave the Vanya a horrified look. One did not jest about the Valar, especially THIS Vala. He shook his head in dismay.

"Look, he’s leaving," Tulcaner said with a nod and Vorondil quickly put his shoe back on and they resumed trailing after the former Balrog-slayer.

Glorfindel passed through the west gate, then took the path to the Ezellohar. Vorondil was elated. "He’s alone," he whispered to Tulcaner and the others who had stopped where the path to the Mound met the Númenya Tëa. "Wait until he is far enough from the road so no one will see."

They nodded and the seven Vanyar and one Noldo made their way towards the Trees. When they did not see Glorfindel there Vorondil felt a moment of panic until he remembered the Ring of Doom and silently pointed in that direction.

They found Glorfindel standing in the center of the Ring, staring at one particular throne, apparently deep in thought. Thus, it was with some surprise when he spoke without even looking at them.

"Welcome to the Máhanaxar, gentlemen. I’ve been expecting you."

The eight elves stopped in shock. Glorfindel turned slowly to face them and Vorondil noticed that he wore a knife sheathed in red leather. He swallowed nervously, suddenly aware that he was not armed. Indeed, he did not think any of them were.

Glorfindel spoke again, a feral smile on his face. "Eight of you. How flattering."

His tone sent a frisson of fear up Vorondil’s spine and he had the sick feeling that Glorfindel did not think the odds were terribly against him.

"Wh-what did you mean... you were expecting us?" Vorondil asked, and Tulcaner hissed in disgust at the fool of a Noldo.

Glorfindel’s smile merely deepened. "Before Turucáno hid us away behind the Echoriath, I spent nearly fifty years hunting and being hunted by orcs and other fell creatures of Melkor. Do you think even now I do not know when I’m being followed?" He laughed suddenly, though it was not a pleasant laugh and even Tulcaner shivered slightly at the sound of it. "You children have much to learn." Now his voice went cold and the light that gleamed from his eyes was darkly joyful.

Vorondil felt the sudden need to vomit. Instead, he whispered, "Take him." His companions needed no other urging. Two of them advanced on Glorfindel from either side, effectively blocking his way. Glorfindel could have retreated to the other side of the ring and could have even made his escape, but he never thought to do so. He was not surprised to find himself being followed; he was somewhat taken aback to see Vorondil there and even more surprised to see him wearing warrior braids, though he hid it successfully enough.

Nor did he fear them. Vorondil he discounted and while the others were unknown factors, they were also Vanyar, not terribly noted as warriors, and they were unarmed, or so he thought. Tulcaner growled at Vorondil to stay out of the way, then reached behind his cloak to pull out a short sword. Two others did the same. Vorondil saw Glorfindel’s eyes widen at the sight of the swords but to his surprise the Reborn Noldo did not otherwise flinch. Instead he moved deliberately towards one of the thrones. The Vanyar attempted to circle him, but he reached the throne first, pulling his knife out of its sheath.

No one spoke. Then Glorfindel made a come-on gesture and his expression was so arrogant that the three armed Vanyar attacked as one. Glorfindel dropped beneath their guards and swept Tulcaner down, slicing him on the sword arm, then, using the hilt of the knife, he attempted to knock him out, though it was only a glancing blow and the elf never lost consciousness. It was enough for Glorfindel to grab the sword from him. The other two elves, however, recovered enough to turn on him at the last minute and pin him to the ground, knocking both sword and knife from him.

With a mighty effort Glorfindel attempted to throw them off and, had it just been the two attackers, he would have succeeded, but now three other elves joined the fray and while they held him down Tulcaner and another systematically began beating him into submission until at last Glorfindel passed out.

Only then did Vorondil approach, looking down on the now bloody and unconscious elf, his expression full of hate. For a moment he stared at Glorfindel, then he kicked him in the ribs and spat on him, bending down to remove the peridot ring from Glorfindel’s finger before turning away.

"Bring him," he ordered. Two of the elves grabbed Glorfindel by the arms and began to drag him out of the Ring. Tulcaner retrieved his sword, clutching his wound and muttering dark curses.

In their haste to leave no one remembered Glorfindel’s knife.

****

Manveru watched with clinical detachment as Glorfindel attacked Tulcaner and then as the Vanyar grabbed him. He was faintly amused that it took five of them to hold Glorfindel down while the other two took turns beating him mercilessly. The other Maiar stood around the Ring, their own swords of light drawn, waiting for the signal from Manveru to intervene if necessary.

Manveru knew that many of his fellow warriors looked upon the Vanyar with disdain, and admired the Balrog-slayer for his coolness in the face of insurmountable odds, though Manveru suspected that Glorfindel did not think they were that insurmountable. When you’ve fought against a Valarauco, the Maia reflected, seven Vanyar, only three of them armed, probably did not look too threatening to you.

The beating went on longer than any of the Maiar liked and it took a direct order from Tulkas, who suddenly appeared among them, to stop any of them from interfering.

"The beating is severe, but not life-threatening," the Vala said, looking stern. It was rare enough to see this particular Vala looking so grim that it gave the Maiar pause. Then, Tulkas laughed. "We will play this game to the end and these Children will see who is truly in control."

So they stood by and watched as Vorondil approached the unconscious elf and kicked him in the ribs before spitting on him. They observed the Noldo reaching down and removing Glorfindel’s ring. That action alone caused Tulkas to scowl and several of the Maiar standing nearby flinched at the Vala’s expression. Then they looked on as the Vanyar dragged Glorfindel away. Two of the Vanyar left for Eldamas where they would retrieve their horses and meet the rest of the party on the North Road where that way met the Mall’ Etelerroron. The others would cut across country. In the dark, now that the sun had set, there would be none to see.

Tulkas ordered Manveru and two other Maiar to follow the elves and so they watched as Tulcaner ordered the elves to stop as he pulled out a vial from an inner pocket and forced the contents down Glorfindel’s throat.

"Fúmella juice," he said in explanation. "It will keep him out for hours."

The trek across country was done in complete silence, two of the elves taking turns dragging Glorfindel behind them, heedless of whether he sustained further injuries. Only Vorondil and Tulcaner did not help. When they finally reached their rendevous point with the horses, Tulcaner advised Vorondil to continue to the hunting lodge.

"It will be best if you are not seen anywhere near Taniquetil. Anardil here will see you safely to the lodge. I will see that your plan for this Noldo is carried out."

Vorondil reluctantly agreed and in short order the two parties split. The Maiar ignored Vorondil and followed Tulcaner, who lashed the still unconscious elf to one of the horses. Then the Vanyar continued along the road, leaving it about a league from Vanyamar and moving north and east around the mountain to a little known path that wound its way up Taniquetil. Tulcaner pointed it out to the others.

"Here we leave the horses. We must hurry. The way is long and I want to be off the mountain before dawn."

"What exactly do you plan to do with this rebel Noldo, Tulcaner?" one of the others asked. "Leave him on Lord Manwë’s doorstep?"

The others laughed at that and Tulcaner nodded. "Just about. Let’s get going."

Thus, six Vanyar dragged Glorfindel up the mountain unaware of the three Maiar trailing them. An hour before dawn saw them at their destination — the north wall of Ilmarin where no gate stood. They threw Glorfindel against the wall where he landed in a boneless heap, then made their way back down the mountain.

Glorfindel never stirred. The three Maiar settled around him to keep their vigil.

****

Fúmella: The poppy plant, the juice of which is a narcotic.