A Prank on Glorfindel

Chapter 3 – Glorfindel

“Elladan Peredhel! Elrohir! Please remain seated!”

The Seneschal of the Last Homely House employed his greatest and very best efforts to appear authoritative. He folded his arms over his chest, made himself as tall as he could and frowned sternly, looking rather impressive as he walked forward to lecture his unruly charges.

The effect, however, was lost on the rambunctious elflings, whose backs were now turned on their teacher as they climbed onto the window sill for a better view of the court yard below.

Smiling behind their backs, understanding full well that there was not much attention left in his pupils after such a long day, the advisor put his arms around the small waists and lifted the sons of Elrond back onto the bench behind their desk.

“Erestor! I can walk!” came the indignant protest from the imp on his left.

“We have worked so hard today. May we please go outside now?” chimed in the twin on his right.

“Please?” chorused two deceivingly angelic faces.

Erestor shook his head and knelt in front of them, kindly gazing in the now disappointed, moping faces. “It is only two more pages until the end of the battle. Once you have finished reading it out to me, you may go and play until the bells ring for supper.”

He briefly raised an eyebrow. “Now don’t you scowl at me like that. You know why you are here this afternoon.”

Elladan sighed and turned on his bench to pick up a quill he had dropped. Elrohir rhythmically drummed his fingers on his ink well and kicked his feet against the leg of the desk.

Erestor patiently placed his hand on the sheet of parchment and pointed to the last word Elladan had read before. “Come, Elladan,” he coaxed, with only a hint of sternness in his voice. His eyes found Elrohir, who ceased his drumming and kicking at the admonishing look on the Seneschal’s face.

Elladan heaved another dramatic sigh and placed his elbow on his desk, dropping his head on his hand as he slowly began to read.

Glorfindel ah Eärnur aphadar i Nazgûl...

O-o-O-o-O

As soon as Glorfindel had chased the Witch-King back into Angmar and the Battle of Fornost had ended, two exuberant young Elves made a beeline for the trees behind the stables.

“Tell me your plan,” Elrohir urged his brother, climbing to a fork in the tree.

Elladan flopped down beside him, pulled a handful of berries from his pocket and happily began to eat. “I thought that Erestor would never let us go!” he grinned, holding out his hand.

“El, the plan for Glorfindel,” Elrohir reminded. “I want to know.”

Elladan’s eyes twinkled. “Not yet,” he whispered mysteriously. “Not here.” He glanced around and pointed to a clearing ahead where four archers of the Imladris Guard sat on a fallen log, enjoying a meal of fruit salad and buttered cram. The older twin put a finger on his lip and closed his eyes, fully enjoying the curious looks he knew his brother must now be sending him.

“Come on, Elladan. Tell me!” Elrohir demanded.

“Hush!” Elladan giggled, delighting in riling his twin. He rested his head against the treebark and leisurely swung his feet in the air, eyes closed.

“El, if you don’t tell me, I’ll push you out of this tree,” Elrohir threatened.

His twin slowly opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “If I tell you here, we will be overheard! Silly orc!” he teased playfully.

“Then let’s go somewhere else!” Elrohir hissed. He growled with impatience when Elladan closed his eyes again.

“Peace, Elrohir,” Elladan smiled. “Can’t you see I’m resting?”

“Yes, and I am the son of Glorfindel,” Elrohir snorted. “If you don’t come freely, I will have to make you.”

“You could try,” Elladan baited with an impish laugh. He was thrilled by the prospect of a romp with his brother.

“El!” Elrohir warned, his voice low and threatening.

Elladan knew that voice. His brother was really getting angry now. Time to change tactics. In the blink of an eye he jumped to his feet and swung himself out of the tree.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” he called over his shoulder, running away.

A loud word sounded from the tree above him as Elrohir hurried to follow his brother.

“Ada had better not hear you say that!” Elladan laughed, sprinting away through the forest.

“I will get you, El!” Elrohir shouted from behind.

They nimbly raced each other through the undergrowth between the trees. Neither was faster or slower than the other, but both twins were determined to continue the chase and see who would win. Although Elrohir wasted his breath on a litany of threats as he ran, this slight disadvantage was largely compensated by Elladan’s incessant laughs and giggles.

“Miserable troll!” Elrohir cried. “I will boil your innards when I get my hands on you!”

Elladan leapt over a set of boulders onto a well-concealed path leading uphill through a small canyon, home of one of the river Bruinen’s various tributaries. Elrohir followed on the rocky path, making use of the many curves and bends to try and head off his tease of a brother. Alas! Just when he almost got hold of his desired prey, Elladan burst from the canyon into the pine woods above and cleverly avoided being caught by zig-zagging between the numerous rocks and trees.

O-o-O-o-O

At last they reached the edge of the forest at the top of Aragond, a high rock towering over a crystal clear pool below. Here Elrohir tackled his brother and they rolled across the stoney ground, giggling and panting as they tried hard to get on top of each other.

“Tell me!” Elrohir insisted, grabbing hold of his brother’s tunic and pushing him down.

“Tell me what?” a clear, amused voice asked behind them.

The boisterous elflings sheepishly gazed upwards into the smiling face of…Glorfindel!

“Glorfindel! Are you meditating?” Elladan evaded quickly. “Did we disturb you?”

A deep, ringing laugh sounded from the Balrog Slayer’s chest.

“You did not,” the seasoned warrior replied with a warm chuckle. “In fact, I was about to come down to the house and find you both.”

“You were?” Elrohir asked eagerly. If Glorfindel came to find them after their lessons, it usually meant that he had come up with something exciting.

The Chief of Defenses put his finger on his lip and pointed to the edge of the rock. “I have seen two peregrine falcons flying to and from the side of Aragond today. I believe they might be nesting here.”

“Really?” Elladan immediately made to peer over the ledge, but the watchful Elf Lord quickly snatched the youngster’s ankle and pulled him back.

“Elfling! Do you want to fall down?”

Elladan gazed over his shoulder with a hurt look in his eyes. “Glorfindel, you know that I am careful!”

“Yes, Elfling, but I also know your boundless curiosity – and your lack of caution when you aim to get it satisfied,” the golden one smiled. He kept a wary eye on Elrohir, who was also approaching the ledge.

“We will not fall down, Glorfindel,” Elladan promised. “May I please look?”

“If you did not want us to see it, then what did you want to come and find us for?” Elrohir quipped.

The blonde warrior bit back an amused smile and nodded his consent. “All right then, elflings. But I will be holding your feet.”

Elrohir’s face fell. Elladan frowned, crossing his arms much like Erestor had done earlier. “Are you implying that we, the sons of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían, grandsons of Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien, would not be able to hold on to the side of a rock?” he asked indignantly. “We are Elves, Glorfindel! Not humans!”

“Have you seen how high this rock is?” Glorfindel asked calmly.

“Yes! But I have once seen Illuin diving off it. So even if we fall, the pool below is deep enough,” Elladan argued angrily.

“We won’t fall!” Elrohir huffed. “But I am not afraid to jump down into the water if I must.”

Glorfindel only raised an eyebrow at that. He motioned to the side of the rock. “Both peregrines have flown away just before you came, so if you want to look without disturbing them, now is the time. When they come back, I cannot allow you to watch anymore.”

The elflings exchanged a quick glance.

“We will watch now then,” Elladan announced. “But you needn’t hold on. We are twelve, not five! We will be fine.” He turned around and knelt on the edge of the rock with his brother, both of them purposely ignoring the Golden Warrior.

Giving extra care to place their fingers on protrusions that would easily support them, and balancing to keep most of their weight on their lower torso and legs, the brothers slowly inched forward. With meticulous precision they bent their heads and shoulders over the steep side of Aragond, both Peredhil well aware of the deep drop down to the pool, yet equally determined to show their ability to handle danger.

There, below them, on a narrow ledge in the face of the rock, lay three little reddish brown eggs.

“Glorfindel, they have eggs!” Elrohir squealed. “Come and look!” He carefully edged backwards to make some room. Elladan cautiously placed his hands a little higher on the rough surface of the rock, seeking safe support, inwardly longing to see the Balrog Slayer’s expression at this clear demonstration of competence.

Just as the two elflings safely sat back on their haunches and turned to glance at their friend, two strong arms encircled their waists. Before they knew what was happening, Glorfindel had taken a few steps backwards, and – with an elfling under each arm – jumped over the side of the rock…

O-o-O-o-O

The ear-splitting screams echoed along the side of the rock and up towards the steep walls of the canyons. Elrohir panicked when he saw the surface of the water rapidly coming closer.

“Keep your legs together!” Glorfindel bellowed.

The few years of training paid off and the elflings automatically did as they were told.

For Elladan, the horror of the falling sensation was doubled when it seemed to take forever for the plunge to come. “We are never going to hit the water! We are just going to keep falling!” he thought desperately.

Just then, with a loud crash, the cold water of the pond was all around him. Stunned, shocked and unable to move, he simply sank deeper under the surface, his heart racing madly, his entire body tingling with adrenaline. At a tug on his arm he opened his eyes to see Glorfindel, pulling him upwards and motioning for him to swim. A blurry Elrohir was already on his way up, and feeling the urgent need to breathe, Elladan spread his arms and kicked his legs to follow.

As soon as Elrohir’s face broke through the surface of the pool he let out a string of the most violent curses. He looked around for his brother and spotted him rising from the clear depths below with Glorfindel. Blind fury came over the youngest Peredhel as he swam to where Elladan and Glorfindel would surface. Before the Golden Warrior was able to take a gulp of air, Elrohir’s little fists collided full force with the warrior’s head.

“Easy, elfling!” Glorfindel spluttered, holding on to Elladan, who was completely out of breath.

But Elrohir was livid. “What was that for?!” he shrieked, lunging for the Golden One. “Let go of me! I want to hit you hard!”

Glorfindel was forced to keep Elladan above the water with one hand, while keeping Elrohir at arm’s length with the other.

“We could have died!” Elladan gasped weakly, expressing support for his brother.

“You monster! Orc-breed! Troll of Morgoth! Foul piece of dragon dung!” Elrohir shouted, beside himself with anger.

“I thought I was dying,” Elladan repeated faintly, speaking more to himself now. He clasped his hands on Glorfindel’s shoulders, too worn out to swim on his own. The warrior had his hands full with a raging Elrohir, who kept trying to swing his fists at the golden head.

Barely aware of his brother’s outrage, Elladan blearily gazed around at the dense pine woods that surrounded the pond. The location was beautiful and the isolated position of Aragond gave the area a deep silence and serenity. Some elves, such as Glorfindel, came here often to meditate or swim in peace. His eyes wandered to the top of Aragond. A large waterfall had once thundered down here, carving the depths of the pool.

Elladan’s stomach knotted as he realized the sheer height of massive rock rising up above the deep, clear water. Far above, where Aragond brushed the sky, the peregrine couple was flying around the ledge. It made him feel minute and small. To think that only moments earlier, he had come falling down from up high…

Suddenly his body started shaking vehemently and he broke down in uncontrollable tears.

“Elrohir, stop!” Glorfindel commanded. He turned around to take Elladan in his arms, but a crunching blow against his head momentarily halted him. He wrapped one arm around Elladan’s waist and lifted the sobbing youngster slightly out of the water. Then he rounded on Elrohir, who had shocked himself by kicking Glorfindel against the back of his head.

“Elfling!” he bellowed.

The youngest Peredhel, already approaching for a new attack when he saw that the warrior had not been harmed, was abruptly shocked into calmness. The narrow, grey eyes widened with worry when he noticed his brother’s distress.

“El!”, he cried with a jolt. Elrohir swam forward and wrapped an arm around his weeping twin. “I am with you, El,” he panted, treading water and trying to hold on without causing Glorfindel and his brother to sink below the surface. Elladan’s shaking hand clasped Elrohir’s tightly while he blubbered on Glorfindel’s shoulder.

“You are okay, elfling,” Glorfindel soothed. “You only had a big scare, that is all. It will pass.”

Elrohir shot him a murderous glare, but then kept his focus on Elladan.

Lulled by the gentle love from his brother and trainer, the young Elf gradually calmed down and regained his senses. Blushing fiercely despite the cold of the water, he lifted his head from Glorfindel’s shoulder and glared into the smiling warrior’s eyes.

“You can let me go now,” he bristled, his earlier confusion giving way to vexation. He slapped at the warrior’s hands and squirmed to be let free.

Seeing that the youngster was faring far better now, the Balrog Slayer loosened his grip. Elladan slid back into the water and swam several feet away from the warrior, his eyes betraying anger.

“Easy now, elflings,” Glorfindel advised. “We had better swim to the bank. Come.”

O-o-O-o-O

The sons of Elrond obeyed without question. Side by side they swam to the rocky shore, tired after all the exertion. Stripping off their sopping clothes and boots, they sat down on a large flat rock in the late afternoon sun to dry.

“Glorfindel! You jumped!” Elladan suddenly exclaimed, no longer able to contain his fury. The stunning numbness he had felt after the jump had lifted, and realization of what had happened was finally sinking in. He turned to face the older Elf, his mouth wide open in horror.

“You actually jumped!” he shrieked. “With us! You plunged us down that rock into the pool! Have you no idea how high it is?!”

The clear, ringing laughter of the Balrog Slayer resounded across the water.

“Yes, elfling, I jumped,” he smiled. “I was under the impression that you needed a taste of the danger you wanted to defy so offhandedly.”

Elladan opened his mouth to swear, but he closed it again. He looked at Glorfindel incredulously.

“For punishment?” he asked, shocked.

“Rather consider it a valuable lesson,” the Chief of Defenses replied seriously. “One day you will be chasing orcs and other vermin through the Misty Mountains, young one. When you find yourself on a ledge like Aragond, I want you to appreciate the distance you could fall should you lose your grip.”

Elladan swallowed and slowly repressed all the curses he had been about to hurl at the Elf Lord. He turned to Elrohir, but his brother sat with his face away from them.

“El?” he asked hesitantly. Elrohir was crying.

Elladan made to sit down beside his twin, but Elrohir shrugged him off and walked a few yards into the woods. The older elfling glanced at Glorfindel for help when his brother sat down behind a tree and hugged his knees, whimpering.

The warrior gazed at his young charges and waited for a moment to see what would happen.

“Elrohir? What is it, elfling?” he then asked kindly, walking over to the trees and squatting beside the doleful child.

Elrohir hid his face in his arms and began to sob hysterically. The warrior placed his large hand on the youngster’s head and gently pulled him into an embrace. “Come here, little one. Why are you crying?” Glorfindel comforted.

A choked whisper in his ear was followed by an incomprehensible wail and Elrohir wrapped his arms around the Balrog Slayer’s neck like a vice.

“…hit you…so sorry…” the warrior managed to make out between the hiccups and desperate sobs.

Nodding in understanding, Glorfindel gently placed his fingers in the elfling’s neck, shoving aside the damp strands of hair, and rubbed soothingly.

“You had a big scare, elfling,” he consoled. “It is not uncommon for Elves and Men to react with fury after sudden exposure to a life-threatening situation. It is quite normal that you got angry, tithen pen.”

“But I hit you...” Elrohir choked. “I punched you…I kicked your head!”

“That you did, elfling,” Glorfindel smiled kindly. “You briefly lost control of yourself, my little warrior. Now, what are the rules for a warrior who loses control?”

Elrohir lifted his tearful face from Glorfindel’s shoulder and glanced up into the loving eyes of his trainer. “Early morning exercise…” he whispered guiltily.

“Indeed,” Glorfindel nodded, wiping the tears from Elrohir’s face with his thumb. “I believe that a week of morning training is just what you need, young Elrondion. You will come to the training fields before sunrise, and we will make you run with the warriors.”

Relief appeared in Elrohir’s grey eyes. “Hannon le,” he whispered gratefully. “Thank you, Glorfindel. Forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you,” Glorfindel smiled. “Now come, let’s sit with your brother in the warm sunlight and get dry.”

O-o-O-o-O

The Seneschal of the Last Homely House frowned in dismay when three bedraggled Elves appeared in the hallway just before the meal was served.

“We’re sorry, Erestor,” Elladan muttered sincerely. “We wanted to get dry first, but the bells rang for supper. We came as fast as we could.”

“I can see that,” Erestor scowled, glancing from the mud under the elflings’ boots to the trail in the hall. “You ran so fast you did not even watch your steps. Where have you been?”

The Seneschal glared at the highly amused warrior behind the twins, certain that the irritating blonde had something to do with it.

“In the valley of Aragond,” Glorfindel grinned. “ I took Elrohir and Elladan swimming.”

Erestor rolled his eyes. “I suppose you had lost your concept of time then, my Lord Elf? Swimming? An hour before supper?” he chided sarcastically. He pointed a slender finger at the puddles of water on the polished floor. “And fully clothed? I know you, Glorfindel! Am I wrong to suspect that you had no intention whatsoever to take the elflings into the water, but that something made you decide to…how shall I say it…throw them in?”

The bark of laughter from the Chief of Defenses drew Elrond and Celebrían from the dining room. The twins were escorted to the bathing room to wash and change, while Glorfindel rushed to his own quarters and Erestor covered the steaming dishes on the table to keep them warm.

A few hours later, two tired but satisfied elflings kissed their parents good night. Downstairs, in Erestor’s room, Glorfindel stretched before the fire and his ringing laughter was joined by the Seneschal’s softer chuckles as he related the Tale of the Plunge.

Elrond closed the door of the elflings’ bedroom and gently pulled Celebrían into his arms. “I had hoped that our children would not brave the leap off Aragond for another few decades,” he confessed in a whisper, still slightly aghast. The beautiful elleth wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and kissed him tenderly. “I do not think it harmed them,” she smiled. “Our sons have apologized for their reckless and disrespectful behaviour on Aragond, and I believe they truly meant it. Elrohir will be going to early morning training for a week and Elladan seems to have lost that recent wisp of arrogance we had been seeing. I confess that I secretly approve.”

Elrond closed his eyes and smiled into his lover’s hair. “Do you think I should speak with Glorfindel?” he asked softly, cupping her behind with his hands. Celebrían’s tinkling laughter encouraged him to further his advances. “I will bake him a large pile of raspberry biscuits,” she whispered back. “His favourite. He will understand.”

As they slowly made their way back to the family sitting room, the youngest Peredhel lay listening until their footsteps had died away. His sharp elvish ears picked up the soft giggles on the landing, the hush of his father’s robes on the higher steps and the sound of his mother’s ring on the banisters. The slightly louder tone of conversation when his parents had reached the lower floor drifted up to him, soon muffled when the door of the sitting room closed. Now he was certain that no-one would hear him.

With one giant leap he pounced on Elladan and pressed him down on the bed.

“TELL me your plan, brother! NOW!”

TBC

Translations:

Glorfindel ah Eärnur aphadar i Nazgûl... – Glorfindel and Eärnur follow the Ringwraith...

cram – a cake of compressed flour or meal (often containing honey or milk)

tithen pen – little one

Elrondion -- son of Elrond

hannon le -- thank you

Author’s Note:

Aragond is another one of my hobbyist Sindarin constructions. I made it up myself, but it is supposed to mean ‘high rock’.

Illuin is the commander in charge of the perimeter defenses of the Valley of Rivendell, borrowed with permission from Ithil-valon’s ‘Healing Hope’ and ‘Elladan’s Trials For Estel’.

Esteliel