93: Lessons

Some days after the snowball fight, Glorfindel was exploring a part of the palace grounds he had not seen before. He was accompanied by Elessairon, Lómion and Alassiel. They came upon a building where Glorfindel detected a familiar sound.

"What’s going on?" he asked no one in particular and before anyone could respond, he opened the door.

They found themselves in a training salle where several ellyn were engaged in mock sword fights and going through certain drills. Glorfindel gave his friends a bemused look.

"There’s been sword practice on a regular basis throughout Aman since everyone returned from the War of Wrath," Elessairon explained with a shrug. "The High King and the Noldóran insisted that the older ellyn be trained with the sword."

"Why?" Glorfindel asked, feeling confused. "There are no enemies in Aman."

It was Alassiel who answered, speaking softly and somewhat uncertainly. "I think they are preparing for the Mahtalë Mahtalion."

Glorfindel just stared at her in shock, then turned back to the salle. There was a visitor’s gallery to their right, accessible by a set of stairs. Making their way up, they found others had come before them. To Glorfindel’s surprise Valandur and Findis were there and they greeted him joyfully and invited the four younger elves to join them.

Glorfindel sat and watched the drills with interest, remembering a similar training salle in Gondolin. He noticed one ellon in particular, one of Ingwë’s junior courtiers named Aldarion. Glorfindel knew him slightly, a typical Vanya who was somewhat disdainful of Glorfindel for being a Reborn, but not antagonistically so. Still, Glorfindel tended to avoid the ellon’s company. The Noldo cast a critical eye over Aldarion’s fighting technique and shook his head.

"Move your feet, Aldarion," he called out, surprising everyone. "You look like you’re shuffling through molasses."

Aldarion looked up in surprise to see Glorfindel staring down at him, his expression one of professional interest, and frowned. "And I suppose you could do better, Etyangol?"

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, giving those sitting around him an amused glance, and then slowly smiled. "Oh, child, you just said the wrong thing," he proclaimed loudly enough for all to hear.

Then before anyone could stop him, he leapt over the railing, landing lightly upon the ground, moving cat-like across the salle to where Aldarion stood with his sparring partner, another member of Ingwë’s court named Vëantur who was a friend of Ingwion’s. All around them, everyone had stopped to see what was happening. Glorfindel did not see Valandur motion to one of the nearby guards and whisper something that saw the guard hurrying away.

When he came to stand before Aldarion, Glorfindel quietly asked Vëantur for his sword, which the ellon gave him with a slight bow and a smile, willingly stepping back to give Glorfindel all the room he needed.

Glorfindel gave Aldarion a disdainful look. "Are you ready, child?"

Aldarion just stared at him for a moment, unbelieving. "What? You mean to spar with me? You’re not even properly attired. And who are you to call me a child?"

Glorfindel merely shrugged. "If I’m stupid enough to allow you to get inside my guard, Aldarion, I’ll deserve whatever injuries I sustain, and unless you can claim to remember the Light of the Two Trees, you are indeed a child. Now, shall we get on with it?"

Then, without warning, Glorfindel raised his sword and with a single cutting motion fell upon the ellon, who gave a startled yell even as he scrambled out of Glorfindel’s path and raised his own sword just in time to block the downward sweep. After that, the two began sparring in earnest, or rather, Aldarion did. Glorfindel’s expression deepened to something undefinable and Aldarion suddenly felt afraid.

"Fight, damn you!" Glorfindel suddenly shouted. "You’re not dancing with your sister here." The Noldo’s attacks came more furiously and Aldarion realized that Glorfindel was not jesting. The Noldo moved with consummate grace, no stroke going wide, every motion economical and deliberate. It was a dance of deadly beauty that he wove about Aldarion and all who saw it watched with stunned horror and delight, for never had they seen anything like it.

Aldarion did his best, and he was actually quite good, once he got over his initial shock, but Glorfindel was even better and at last, with a single twist of the wrist, Glorfindel disarmed him and sent him to the ground, the Noldo’s sword point only inches from his throat. Aldarion looked up in terror, fully expecting to have Glorfindel kill him, but Glorfindel merely smiled and stepped back.

"You lose," he said smugly, then he threw the sword into the air and caught it as it came down, laughing joyously, spinning around in an impromptu dance of delight, his braids swinging and glittering by the light of the lamps. "Oh, that was fun. Who’s next?"

Aldarion just lay there, panting, looking on in disbelief. "Y-you’re not even... winded," he finally managed to gasp out as Glorfindel reached down and offered him a hand up.

Glorfindel gave him an innocent look and a shrug. "Why should I be? I was trying to be as gentle as I could with you. I wasn’t fighting at my full strength. This was supposed to be a friendly match, wasn’t it?"

Aldarion just stared at him, gaping, and all around them was absolute silence at the implications of the ellon’s words.

"Glorfindel."

Glorfindel turned to see Ingwë standing in the gallery beside Valandur, the High King’s expression one of amusement, and ran over to him laughing.

"My lord! Did you see? This is so much fun, but next time I want to spar with real warriors instead of with these children. Perhaps Finrod can come and play with me sometime, or even Ingwion."

Ingwë was hard-pressed not to laugh at the ellon’s elfling-like manner and simply smiled. "Give Vëantur back his sword, child. It’s time to go."

Glorfindel nodded, willing to obey the High King in this, too ecstatic at having discovered the salle in the first place to much care. He practically skipped back to Vëantur, giving back the sword to the bemused ellon before returning to the gallery, where Ingwë waited at the bottom of the steps with Valandur.

The High King looked over the salle at the stunned expressions on everyone’s faces and nodded to the training captains. "Carry on, my lords," he said gravely, then he steered Glorfindel out of the salle with Valandur right behind them.

"I wish I hadn’t given Lord Námo my sword," Glorfindel said as they left, practically bouncing with enthusiasm, "even if it was only within a dream. Perhaps I can convince him to give it back. I haven’t had this much fun in ever so long."

Ingwë gave up and started laughing. "Glorfindel, Glorfindel, you are such a delight. No wonder Lord Námo finds you so amusing. I think, however, we will let the Lord of Mandos decide if you should have your sword back." He paused and laid a hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder in a kindly manner. "In the meantime, I’ll see that you are properly outfitted and provided with a practice sword. There are a few elves who fought in the War of Wrath who might do as sparring partners if you promise not to hurt them overmuch."

"I promise," Glorfindel said with a laugh and hugged himself with glee. "Oh, wait until I tell Finrod and Sador. They’ll be so jealous."

Ingwë and Valandur looked at each other over the ellon’s head and started laughing. Valandur clapped the younger ellon on a shoulder. "I’m sure they will be."

*****

True to his word, Ingwë ordered appropriate gear made for Glorfindel and for the first time since his death, the ellon possessed armor and a sword. True, the sword was merely a practice sword and not his own, which had been buried in the ocean-drowned barrow where his first body lay, but it was well made and Glorfindel was pleased with it.

Ingwë also introduced him to two or three older elves who had been captains under Arafinwë during the War of Wrath. They proved to be worthy opponents for Glorfindel, though none could match him in skill. Yet all were open-minded enough to learn from him. Glorfindel suddenly found he enjoyed instructing others who were genuinely interested in learning what he had to teach.

"I’d forgotten how satisfying it is to see someone learn from you and take the lessons you’ve given them to heart," the ellon commented to Valandur one day as they sat in the loremaster’s study.

Valandur nodded and smiled. "I’m pleased that you are enjoying the experience. Perhaps you would consider helping out with the younger ellyn from time to time. The training captains would welcome your expertise."

Glorfindel shook his head. "I don’t think so. Aldarion still hasn’t forgiven me for trouncing him the way I did." He shrugged. "I merely gave him a better excuse to hate the Reborn than the one he had before."

Valandur frowned. "We need to address this antagonism against the Reborn sooner rather than later."

"But how?" Glorfindel asked. "My brothers and I have gone over it and we still haven’t come up with a solution. How do we convince the Amaneldi that the Reborn are worthy of their respect?"

"You don’t," came the surprising answer from Valandur.

"Huh?"

Valandur shook his head. "You cannot convince the Amaneldi of anything, but you can convince one person at a time. Think small, not big."

Glorfindel looked thoughtful at those words and remained silent for some time. Valandur gave him the space and time he needed to think things through.

****

"Aldarion."

The ellon turned to see Glorfindel standing there and tried not to grimace. They were in an anteroom of the council chamber where the courtiers were gathered for refreshments between council sessions.

"Glorfindel," Aldarion said, sounding coldly polite.

"Alassiel was telling me you are one of the best archers in Aman, especially with the great War Bows."

Aldarion struggled to keep his expression neutral. Was this... this Reborn elf going to now challenge him to an archery contest? He nodded reluctantly, almost warily.

Glorfindel smiled. "I was wondering if you could teach me how to use one."

Aldarion blinked. "Teach?"

The Noldo nodded. "Hunting bows I know but I never had a need to use one of the Altaquingar. My heart warns me that I should learn and I would consider it an honor if you would teach me."

Aldarion could only stare at Glorfindel with bemusement. He wondered briefly if he were being made the butt of some jest, yet he could detect nothing but sincerity in Glorfindel’s tone. He suddenly noticed that silence had descended upon the room as soon as Glorfindel had begun speaking to him and swallowed somewhat nervously, aware that the High King himself was looking upon him with interest, waiting for his answer. After a moment of staring at the Noldo standing expectantly before him, he nodded.

"Are you free this afternoon?" he asked, almost hoping that Glorfindel would say no, but the Noldo nodded. "An hour after the noon meal, then? The archery salle is next to the one where we train in swords."

Glorfindel smiled. "Thank you."

Then it was time to return to the council chamber. Aldarion did not see the High King nod approvingly as he walked past him, nor did he see Valandur give Glorfindel a wink as the ellon gave both his mentor and the High King a cheeky grin.

****

It seemed as if half the palace ended up crowding the visitor’s gallery that ringed the archery salle on three sides. Ingwë and several members of the royal family, including Alassiel and Lirulin sitting next to Findis and Valandur, occupied the royal box. Even Ingwë’s queen, Elindis, who normally eschewed such things, had elected to join them. She had recently returned from Lórien where she had been visiting her sister-in-law, Indis.

All through the noon meal conversations centered around the upcoming "lesson", though many suspected that the Noldo was simply setting Aldarion up for another tumble down the slippery slope of humiliation. Some opined that such a game appeared to be one of Glorfindel’s favorite pastimes, though the ellon in question would have been shocked and hurt had he heard anyone say such a thing in his hearing. Glorfindel knew he had many faults, but he also considered himself an honorable elf and would never have thought to stoop so low. Neither Ingwë nor Valandur, when they realized the tenor of some of the conversations, were pleased by what they heard but elected to allow things to play out as they would. They were both confident that Glorfindel’s own actions would put the lie to many of the Vanyar’s assumptions.

When Aldarion and Glorfindel appeared, there was an expectant hush. The two ellyn, when they entered the salle and saw everyone there, shared a mutual look of disgust that was almost funny. Then Glorfindel shrugged and said something that none heard, but they saw Aldarion smile. Aldarion was carrying his own bow and quiver while Glorfindel had found one in the armory where all the training weapons were stored.

"The Altaquinga is different from the usual hunting bow," the spectators heard Aldarion explain to Glorfindel as the two ellyn went about the business of setting up the field to their liking. Ingwë had instructed a couple of pages to help them. "For one thing it’s nearly twice as large and the draw is therefore heavier. Both the bow and the arrows used are made from nessamelda wood rather than yew and the arrows are fletched somewhat differently to allow for greater distance of flight."

Glorfindel nodded, aware of all this but willing to let Aldarion teach him in his own way.

"Because of the bow’s greater size," Aldarion continued, "most archers will have their own bows made specifically to match their height, but your practice bow will do for now. If you are serious about learning its use, you may eventually wish to have your own bow made."

"As to that, we will see," Glorfindel said. "I do not know whence comes this need to learn the use of the Altaquinga, for ever has my strength lain with the sword." He shook his head. "I have learned the hard way to trust my inner most feelings about such things." Glorfindel declined to add that it had been a sudden vision that had taken him.

He’d been wandering through one of the gardens pondering on how he could convince even one elf about the worth of the Reborn when he’d been overcome by the foretelling. He’d been unsure where he was or why he was using a bow rather than a sword, but he had found himself racing on horseback across a wide plain with two others, a young Adan of all things and another elf whose features looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place them. Behind them came the howls of wargs and orcs. They had stopped their flight to take a stance upon low hills and Glorfindel had stood there calmly with a war bow in his hands waiting for the wargs and orcs to approach. Then the vision had faded.

When he had asked his friends if there were any who were proficient in the use of the Altaquinga, Aldarion’s name was often the first one mentioned. That had surprised Glorfindel, but on one level he knew that this was no coincidence and had accepted what was being offered him.

Aldarion merely nodded at Glorfindel’s words and proceeded to show him the proper stance, correcting his hold on the bow slightly. He then gave a demonstration, placing the arrow firmly inside the center ring. Glorfindel attempted to do the same but the arrow ended up missing the target completely. He uttered an oath in Sindarin and scowled. Some few elves in the galleries were heard to snicker. Ingwë frowned and whispered something to Valandur, who nodded before getting up and leaving.

"Try it again," Aldarion said quietly, his expression that of a captain evaluating the skills of one of his warriors under his command. "You were putting too much weight on the draw. Take a deeper breath and let it out slowly as you release the arrow."

Glorfindel complied and this time he actually managed to hit the target though it was in the outer ring. Aldarion nodded his approval and there was clapping from the spectators, mostly from Glorfindel’s friends. "That’s better," Aldarion said. "I think with a little more practice you might do quite well." Then, unable to resist, he stepped forward and calmly proceeded to place arrow after arrow into the center ring without even bothering to pause between sending one arrow off before reaching for another. Glorfindel stood there, silently gauging the ellon’s movements, a small smile on his lips.

When the last arrow was spent there was a general acclamation from the spectators and many rose to give the ellon their ovation. Glorfindel gave Aldarion a wide grin, which the other elf returned and when the Noldo held out his hand, Ingwë was pleased to see Aldarion clasp it without hesitation. Once the cheering died down, Glorfindel turned to Ingwë and gave the High King a bow.

"If my lord will permit," he said loudly enough for all to hear, "we would open the field to any who care to join us in practice."

At Ingwë’s nod there was a mad scramble as several ellyn and not a few ellith began racing through the galleries to come down to the training field, many of them with their own bows in hand, having hoped for a chance to join in the lesson. Glorfindel gave Aldarion a sardonic look and the ellon laughed, issuing orders to those joining them and organizing them into teams. More targets were set up and the arrows began to fly in earnest. Even Elessairon and Lómion joined in the fun, their skill at the bow somewhat greater than Glorfindel’s, but the Vanyar were definitely the masters. By the time the session ended an hour later Glorfindel’s archery skills had improved dramatically, but more importantly, friendships were formed between him and the Vanyarin archers. When the young Noldo finally left the salle with Aldarion, several Vanyar surrounded them, talking enthusiastically about archery and sword fighting.

Many of the spectators had already left by then, but Ingwë had remained where he was, watching the practice with professional interest. Valandur had returned at one point and the two were seen speaking quietly with one another, though not even those in the royal box knew of what they spoke. As he watched Glorfindel and Aldarion leave the salle together, Ingwë nodded to himself, a considering look on his face. He and Valandur were now alone except for the usual guards, the queen and the rest of the family having left some time before, though Alassiel had lingered until duty had forced her to leave.

"Invite Aldarion to attend you the next time you and Glorfindel meet for one of your sessions," Ingwë said quietly to Valandur. "Tell him he will be joining Glorfindel in his tutorials."

Valandur responded with a raised eyebrow. "Aldarion is no longer an elfling, Uncle, to have to endure such a thing. He is young, of course, but already holds great responsibilities within the government. Do you seek to humiliate him by such a request?"

Ingwë gave his niece’s husband a shrewd look. "Nay, my son, that is not my intent. I want Aldarion to help you with Glorfindel. In due time I expect Aldarion to take over mentoring our young Balrog-slayer, but he will need some training along those lines first."

"Ah," Valandur said with the light of understanding in his eyes. Then he gave his uncle and king a wicked grin. "Has anyone ever told you what a devious bastard you really are?"

Ingwë laughed as he stood up, Valandur following him. "Not in so many words, no, but I thank you for the compliment."

Valandur laughed uproariously at that and even the guards were smiling as the High King and his loremaster finally left the gallery.

****

Mahtalë Mahtalion: Battle of Battles; the Quenya equivalent of the Sindarin Dagor Dagorath.

Altaquingar: Plural of Altaquinga: Great Bow; the war bow of the Eldar.

Nessamelda: Beloved of Nessa; the name of a species of tree that grows in Aman.

Note: The full tale of Glorfindel’s vision can be found in my story, Tâd Edhel a Firion, Chapter 4, "Orcs Get In Your Eyes".