BLUE: Mid-Summer Memories

SUMMARY: Some wounds never fully heal, as one young Elf learns.

****

It wasn’t until Lord Glorfindel had resided in Lindon for a few years that people began to remark on the fact that the ellon would mysteriously disappear just around Mid-summer. Where he went, none could say. He would leave the court three days before the festivities on Mid-summer’s Day, returning three days after, his mood somber though not dark. Some inquired of Gil-galad about it when they began to notice the ellon’s absences but the High King would assure them that Lord Glorfindel had his leave to be away from court at that time.

Lord Glorfindel himself offered no explanations as to where he went, or why or what he did during that one week and there were none in Lindon, except the High King and possibly Lord Círdan, who had the temerity to ask and both lords kept their own counsels. Some of the more curious thought to learn the reason for Lord Glorfindel’s absence through Lord Elrond, whom everyone knew was Lord Glorfindel’s closest friend at court. The young healer, however, would stare disdainfully at the one who sought the information (usually through indirect means that still did not fool the young lord). "I am Lord Glorfindel’s friend," he would say coldly, "not his minder. Lord Glorfindel’s comings and goings are of no concern of mine nor should they be yours."

In truth, Elrond was just as curious about his new friend’s actions as anyone, but his own reticence forbade him from intruding on Glorfindel’s privacy in such a crass manner. If the ellon felt the need to confide in Elrond, he would, and Elrond would hold his confidence securely. But Glorfindel did not confide in anyone, as far as he knew, and so the young healer accepted that in this one instance his golden-haired friend preferred to be alone.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprising, it never occurred to anyone to simply follow Lord Glorfindel when he disappeared to see where he went and what he did. There was one young Elf, however, whose curiosity got the better of him and when the fifth Mid-summer since Lord Glorfindel’s arrival approached, Erestor decided he would put the hunting and scouting skills that he had been learning to good use and follow the ellon when he left. He was not sure why he felt the need to do something so underhanded and, in truth, dishonest. He tried to convince himself that it was out of concern for his friend. Ever since the bright haired Noldo had befriended him, Erestor had been drawn to Glorfindel as a moth to the flame. Their friendship was still tentative, at least on Erestor’s part, for he was wary of other people’s motives and agendas. Lord Glorfindel did not appear to have any, and Erestor was glad of that, at least.

If anyone had told him that what he felt for Glorfindel was hero-worship, he would have been appalled, but no one did, if they even recognized it for what it was. If Glorfindel himself noticed, he was gracious enough not to mention it to his young friend. Thus, Erestor convinced himself that what he was doing was out of friendship and not because he was too curious for his own good.

It was Glorfindel’s habit to leave on his annual pilgrimage an hour after dawn three days before Mid-summer. He would leave through the west gate of the king’s city, passing through the farmlands of Forlindon into the wilderlands of the far north, riding swiftly but not so swiftly that Erestor could not keep him in sight even on foot, for he felt that taking a horse would make him too readily visible. The young ellon had secreted himself in a stand of black elderberry bushes which lay along the north road just outside the city walls well before Glorfindel set out. He gave him time to pass out of sight before setting off after him, keeping low and stealthy so as not to attract attention.

At some point an hour or so before noon, Erestor saw Glorfindel lead his horse off the road towards the west. This was curious, as Erestor could not recall that there was any path leading towards the coast at this point, and when he had allowed Glorfindel sufficient time to get ahead, he came to where the Elf’s horse had left the road. Sure enough, there was no real track and Erestor could not imagine why Glorfindel would leave the road here for, in looking about him, he spied no obvious landmarks. He shook his head, deciding not to worry about it too much. His quarry was getting too far ahead and he did not wish to lose him.

So they continued, said quarry presumably unaware that he was being trailed. Erestor wondered just how far Glorfindel meant to travel that day. The days were longer now and it was close on ten in the evening and the sun was still in the sky, though another hour would see it sinking behind the clouds that lined the western horizon, when Glorfindel finally stopped for the night. By Erestor’s estimation, they had traveled nigh on fifteen leagues with four rest stops lasting about a half an hour each. Erestor was glad that Glorfindel had finally decided to stop for the night. He found he was tired and hungry and looked forward to finding a nice tree in which to sleep.

He never got the chance.

Crouching behind some bushes, he watched Glorfindel set up camp further west where a small copse of oak and elm spread itself across the landscape. Erestor munched on some lembas trying to gauge how close he could get to Glorfindel without being noticed. He was contemplating heading north once the night became truly dark and approaching the woods from that direction, thinking he could find a nice oak tree to settle himself in, when he saw Glorfindel straighten from tending his fire and look directly at him (or so it seemed) and smile.

"Well, Erestor, are you going to sit there all night or will you join me by the fire?" Glorfindel called out in an amused voice.

Erestor dropped the lembas he’d been holding and simply stared out from his hiding place in shock, unable to move, indeed, unable to think.

"Come, come," Glorfindel said, sounding a bit more impatient, "I really prefer my stalkers where I can see them, so fear not, elfling, I’ll not eat you."

Being called an elfling was what spurred Erestor forward, feeling a sick combination of shame at being found out and indignation at being treated as if he were indeed an elfling. He stumbled out of his crouch, and made his way towards Glorfindel, unable to look the Elf-lord in the eye. He felt Glorfindel lean down a bit (how he hated everyone being taller than he!) and put a finger on his chin to make him look up. He found himself staring into blue-grey eyes that looked upon him kindly.

"H-how long have you known?" Erestor asked in a whisper.

Glorfindel smiled. "Since leaving Lindon, my friend," he said. "I had to ask myself, ‘What is an Elf doing hiding behind the elderberry bushes?’ and decided to find out."

Erestor blushed and tried to look away, but Glorfindel held his gaze, his eyes hardening somewhat as he stared at the younger ellon. "I was rather unamused by the fact that it was you who felt the need to violate my privacy."

Erestor gulped but said nothing. Glorfindel continued staring at him for an eternal moment or two before releasing him. He stood back and smiled. "Though, I admit, I was also amused by your perseverance. I was sure I would lose you once I left the road where I did. I’m most impressed by your skills, Erestor. You show great promise."

Erestor wasn’t sure how to respond to the Noldo’s words. Was Lord Glorfindel amused and unamused at the same time? It was a bit confusing for him, so he just stood there silently waiting for something to happen.

It did, but not as Erestor expected. Glorfindel gave him a shrug and went back to tending the fire. "There’s a rill further south from here," he said, not looking up but holding a small pot towards him. "Why don’t you take this and fill it for me?"

Erestor did as he was bid and shortly thereafter he was helping Glorfindel cut up some carrots and leeks and potatoes to go into the stew that would be their dinner. Erestor contributed some dried rabbit meat he had brought for his own dinner and soon they were having a feast. As they sat there eating, Erestor finally got up the nerve to ask the one question that had been burning in his mind since dawn.

"Where do you go, lord?" he asked quietly, not quite looking at the other ellon.

Glorfindel took so long to answer that the ellon was sure he would not, but finally he spoke. "You will see tomorrow."

Erestor stared at Glorfindel in surprise. "You’re not sending me back to Lindon?"

"And would you go?" came the response.

"If you ordered me to return, then I would," Erestor answered truthfully, then his expression became sly. "Although, I might die of curiosity before I got there."

Glorfindel threw back his head and laughed and the sound of it, like so many bells, sent shivers through Erestor’s fëa. He loved to hear his golden-haired friend’s laugh. It was so joyous. He had never heard such joy in anyone before and it truly mesmerized him.

"Well, we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?" Glorfindel finally said, giving Erestor a friendly wink. "Which is why you may come with me."

"Thank you, lord," Erestor said with sincere gratitude.

"Now, none of that ‘lord’ business," Glorfindel replied with a frown. "I thought we were friends."

Erestor gave him a surprised look. "We were... I mean we are... I mean...."

"Then there should be no titles between us, Erestor," Glorfindel said. "Friends do not need to stand on ceremony with one another, do they?"

Erestor shook his head and Glorfindel smiled. "Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Now, who takes first watch?"

"Watch?" was all Erestor could say, shocked at the idea that anyone would feel the need to set watches within Gil-galad’s demesne.

"Sorry, force of habit," Glorfindel said with a shrug. "Go to sleep, my friend. I will see that no harm comes to you."

"But do you not need sleep as well, lo... Glorfindel?"

The golden-haired ellon shook his head. "Not as much as you do," he said. "If you wish, you may keep the watch tomorrow night."

With that, Glorfindel stood up and set out to walk the perimeter of their little camp while Erestor settled himself to sleep, though that was a long time coming.

****

"How far do you mean to travel?" Erestor asked the next day as they were breaking camp.

"To the coast," Glorfindel answered absently. "Perhaps another fifteen leagues or so. We will reach it just before sunset." Then he leaped upon his horse and offered Erestor a hand. "Come, today you will ride. Tuor will carry us both."

"I can’t believe you named your horse after a Mortal," Erestor said as he climbed behind Glorfindel and they set off.

"Why not?" Glorfindel asked with a light laugh. "We were friends and I think he would be amused that I would name this fine fellow after him." Tuor snorted and nodded his equine head as if in agreement and the two friends laughed.

They traveled through fen and forest, stopping several times to rest the horse and themselves. There was little or no talking between them, for Erestor felt abashed at his own actions. Glorfindel had every right to demand that he return to Lindon, and that he did not, only underscored Erestor’s own feelings of having betrayed his friend’s trust with his own lack of good sense. Yet, he did not sense any resentment or even resignation in Glorfindel’s mood. When he spoke to him it was in the same friendly tone he had always used with Erestor. The young ellon just wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

So they traveled on and as night began to encroach upon the land, they reached the coast. They came to a halt on a headland looking out upon the ocean. A stiff salt-laden breeze blew about them and sea-gulls screeched around them as they began to settle for the night, perched on the cliffside. As far as Erestor could see, there was no way down to the rocky shore below, but Glorfindel did not seem inclined to reach it anyway, moving north along the headland until they reached a dip in the land where boulders, some taller than they, were strewn about.

"We’ll set up camp here," Glorfindel said. "It will afford us some shelter from the wind which never really ceases."

So they swiftly set up camp and were soon eating their dinner while Tuor wandered about, munching on the tall grass surrounding them. They sat in companionable silence as Anor dipped below the horizon, her dying light staining everything crimson and gold and deepening purple while stars began to peep out and Ithil, nearly full now, was climbing the eastern sky. As they were finishing their meal, sipping peppermint tea, Glorfindel spoke.

"You’ve been very patient," he said softly, "and undemanding of answers, for which I thank you."

"I am still surprised you didn’t send me back to Lindon," Erestor replied. "I am sorry I betrayed your trust...."

"Nay," Glorfindel said with a raised hand. "I do not fault you for your curiosity. I suspect the Valar put you in my path for this very reason." He gave the other ellon a brief wistful smile. "I almost thought to invite Elrond to accompany me this year, but that ellon has enough burdens on his young shoulders that he shouldn’t be troubled by mine."

"Burdens?" Erestor asked, not sure what his friend meant.

"I will explain tomorrow, my friend. For now, rest."

"I thought I was to take the watch this night," Erestor replied but Glorfindel shook his head.

"I have no desire for sleep, child," he replied gently and before Erestor could protest the golden-haired Noldo began singing what Erestor thought must be a lullaby, though it was not one he had ever heard before. Still, it drew him and enveloped him as if he were cradled in strong, loving arms gently rocking him and before he knew it he was waking under a cloudless blue sky to the sound of birds singing and Anor shining warmly down on him. Of Glorfindel there was no sign.

****

Erestor wondered if he should go looking for the other ellon as he went through his ablutions and breaking his fast. Tuor was still there and so was Glorfindel’s haversack, so he knew that his friend could not have wandered far. He decided to stay by the fire, allowing Glorfindel his privacy. Thus, it was close to midday when Glorfindel returned to camp, coming along the headland from the north. He smiled as he spied Erestor grooming the horse.

"There’s a place further along where the land falls towards the sea," he said as he came to them. "It’s a bit rough, but we could easily reach the beach."

"Is that where we go, then?" Erestor asked as he finished with the grooming. "Is this where you come every year?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. This is the first time I’ve been here, but every year I find myself somewhere along the coast. The location itself is unimportant to me. All that matters is that I can look out upon the ocean."

Erestor gave him a puzzled look. "But you can do that from Lindon," he protested.

Glorfindel smiled. "But then I would be surrounded by others and for what I wish to do I prefer to do it alone."

"Then perhaps I should just stay here and look after Tuor," Erestor suggested, though in truth he hoped Glorfindel would not demand that of him.

The golden-haired ellon shook his head. "For better or for worse, you are here, my friend, and so you will share this moment with me."

Erestor gave him a bow. "Then, I am honored by your trust, little though I deserve it."

Glorfindel gave the younger ellon a brief but heartfelt embrace. "You are my friend, Erestor," he said with a smile. "It is not a matter of deserving anything; it simply is. Come, then, let us break camp. We will spend the next couple of days on the beach."

"It looks rather uncomfortable down there," Erestor said as he followed Glorfindel’s bidding, "with all those rocks and I imagine the tide will make things a bit wet."

Glorfindel laughed. "Do not fret so! As it happens there is a stretch of sand further north and we can camp there above the high tide mark."

And so that is what they did and before noon they were settled in their new camp. Erestor sat by their fire watching Glorfindel who had gone down to the waterline and stood gazing intently out to sea. The young ellon refrained from speaking, for he had noticed that Glorfindel’s mood, so bright and cheery earlier, was now more somber and pensive. Finally, though, Glorfindel returned to the fire and crouched down to pour himself some tea. Then he settled on a piece of driftwood and gave Erestor a knowing look.

"I promised you some answers today," he said. "I know everyone wonders why I disappear every Mid-summer and where I go. So far, only Gil-galad and Círdan know the reason. You will be the third person to know. I ask that you keep what I tell you in confidence."

"You have my word, Glorfindel," Erestor said solemnly. "Nothing that has transpired or will transpire during this time will be spoken of by me to any save you give me your permission to do so."

Glorfindel nodded, apparently satisfied. For a moment longer he did not speak and when he did it was with a question, one that Erestor was not expecting. "What do you know of Gondolin?"

Erestor sat in silence, trying to gather his thoughts. "It was the realm of Turgon, destroyed by Morgoth."

Glorfindel snorted. "Short and to the point," he said and then waved a hand dismissively when Erestor started to speak. "Nay, I do not fault you, Erestor. You are correct. It was Turgon’s realm, hidden for hundreds of years until its location was betrayed by Turgon’s own kin to Morgoth." He sighed and gave Erestor a rueful look. "Gondolin died on Mid-summer’s Day," he whispered, "and so did I."

Erestor stared at his friend in shock. "I knew... I mean I knew Gondolin was destroyed... but I didn’t... I mean... I’m sorry...." He was babbling, and cursed himself for it, stumbling to a halt at Glorfindel’s expression. "I’m sorry," he reiterated softly, unable to look Glorfindel in the eye. He knew the ellon had died and been Reborn, at least on an intellectual level, but this was the first time Glorfindel had ever come right out and said it, at least in Erestor’s presence. Hearing the words just made everything more horrific for him, though even he could not have said why.

Glorfindel, for his part, merely smiled in sympathy. "There is no need to apologize, Erestor. I died and after a time Lord Námo released me from his care and I was re-embodied." He shrugged. "I am not the first nor the last that this has happened to."

"Is this why you leave Lindon?" Erestor asked, "to mourn the dead?" He was pleased with having divined Glorfindel’s reasons for his journey, but the other ellon just shook his head.

"No, child," he said quietly, sighing as he stood to stare out to sea once again, his expression unreadable to the younger ellon. "I come to mourn the living."

****

The rest of the day was spent mostly in silence. Glorfindel’s mood became more and more pensive and he spent his time sitting on a boulder with his arms around his knees, gazing out upon the ocean. They had come to the beach around the time that the tide was going out and Erestor idled the afternoon wandering from one sandbar to another, leaving Glorfindel with his thoughts. He managed to find some clams and began collecting them in their cooking pot, meaning to add them to their dinner. It was only when he called to Glorfindel to come and eat that the ellon bestirred himself from his reveries and joined Erestor by the fire. They ate in silence, but as Ithil rose and Anor slipped under the sea, Glorfindel started to speak, softly, almost to himself, and Erestor had to strain to hear him.

"I remember that last night before the end," he said, not looking at anything in particular. "My closest friend, Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Fountain, and I were enjoying a repast and discussing the next day’s tournament which Turgon always held at Mid-summer...."

Erestor sat in stillness listening to the ellon describe the final hours of Gondolin’s life, of his own life, with something that was akin to horror which mutated into deep sympathy and sorrow. He felt his very fëa tremble at Glorfindel’s words, spoken so emotionlessly, and was glad that the ellon did not describe his own death. Indeed, Glorfindel stopped his recital well before the attack itself, ending with a description of the preparations that had been made in anticipation of the great festival of Ennyn e-Laer.

Glorfindel did not speak for some time and Erestor feared to break in on the ellon’s silence but finally the golden-haired Noldo looked up at Erestor and gave him a brief joyless smile. "Time enough to tell you the rest tomorrow," he said. "You may keep the watch tonight if you wish," he added and then stretched out beside the fire, throwing his cloak about him, but whether he actually slept, Erestor could not say.

****

The next morning, Mid-summer’s Day, dawned bright and cloudless. Erestor woke to find that Glorfindel was already up and fixing breakfast. He cast the younger ellon a wry look. "I thought you were taking the watch last night," he said.

Erestor blushed. "I was, but the sound of the surf sort of put me to sleep." His expression must have been so rueful that Glorfindel laughed.

"I promise not to tell anyone," he said smilingly and offered Erestor a plate of eggs harvested from some gull’s nest in the cliffside.

That was the only lighthearted moment that entire day. Almost without preamble, once they had finished breaking their fast, Glorfindel picked up on his narrative where he had left off the day before.

"We were all gathered on the eastern walls of the city," he said, staring out into the ocean, "waiting for the rising of the sun that would mark the beginning of Mid-summer. Most of the warriors, myself included, were clad in armor, or mostly so, for the festivities always began with a tournament an hour after sunrise, followed by a grand feast. It’s why as many of us survived that would not have done otherwise, for we were already armed for battle, though we little thought that it would be a battle for our very lives...."

He went on to describe the attack by Morgoth’s balrogs and orcs, climbing over the northern mountains, which rose higher than the rest of the Echoriath and so was only lightly watched. "That was our gravest error," he said, "next to Turgon trusting Maeglin as he did."

Erestor sat there nursing his tea and listened with a sense of rising dread as Glorfindel continued his tale, describing the flight northward along the secret way that Idril had devised. He fervently hoped that Glorfindel would not describe his own battle with the balrog and his ensuing death. The thought of listening to the ellon describe his own demise sent a chill of horror through him and he was secretly glad when Glorfindel only mentioned the fact that he was one of the captains who helped Tuor lead the remnant of Gondolin into the dreadful pass of Cirith Thoronath.

"Then the balrog came," he said in an emotionless tone, and for a long time did not speak.

Erestor waited, not sure if he should say anything, not even sure what he could possibly say that would not sound either condescending, or just plain ludicrous, given the gravity of the moment. Glorfindel saved him the trouble of saying anything by abruptly standing and walking down to where the waves splashed upon the beach and began singing.

"Dannassen —

a naur a morchant dhannasser na nin.

     Massâd hi Loth Valthen e-Gondolin?

     Massâd hi megil e-gallon?

     Massâd hi Glorfindel veren?"

At first Erestor had trouble understanding some of the words, but as he listened more carefully, he realized that they were in a dialect of Sindarin that he assumed had been spoken in Gondolin, hidden away and isolated from all the other realms of Beleriand. And as he listened further, he realized to his dismay that Glorfindel was singing a lament, describing his own death:

"Nan îa dhannassem —

callon a choth —

na Ngûr a Dúaith ui.

     Massâd hi Loth Valthen e-Gondolin?

     Massâd hi megil e-gallon?

     Massâd hi Glorfindel veren?

Nan Annûn fae nîn róviel

rhaw nîn gaeda hi nu chaudh

nuin nîn vithrin e-Beleriand varad.

     Dan adguion, gwenniel,

     a boe enni ista:

     Am man manadh?"

And as the song ended, Glorfindel suddenly fell to the sand, heedless of the waves washing over his knees and started weeping. For a split second, Erestor sat unmoving, shocked to see this great warrior breaking down and then he was on his feet and going to him, falling beside him. For a moment he hesitated, not sure if his presence would be welcomed, but then he wrapped his arms around the still weeping ellon’s shoulders and held him through his tears, as mindless of the surf soaking him as Glorfindel. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only about ten minutes, Glorfindel’s weeping slowed and then stilled. Erestor kept his arms around him, rocking him slightly as if he held an elfling in need of comfort in his arms.

"And you do this every Mid-summer?" Erestor whispered in disbelief. "You carry this burden alone?"

"It’s my burden to bear," Glorfindel answered, his voice somewhat muffled.

"But not alone, surely!" Erestor could not help saying.

Glorfindel raised his eyes to his and shook his head, giving him a tremulous smile. "No, not alone, not any more. Thank you."

"You are most welcome, my friend," Erestor said, giving him a wider smile and then he helped him to his feet, leading him back to the fire where they both exchanged their wet things for dry ones. Then, they sat and Erestor poured tea for them both. When they were settled, Erestor asked a question. "Why do you torment yourself this way, Glorfindel? What purpose does it serve?"

"It’s my way of remembering those who did not survive," he answered.

"Including you?" Erestor said, giving him a shrewd look and then turned away, abashed at his own temerity.

"Yes," came the soft answer, "including me."

Erestor looked back at the ellon, his eyes narrowing. "Yet you live, so what is there to mourn?"

Glorfindel drew in a deep breath, and Erestor waited with some trepidation for the storm of his anger to break upon him, but it never came. Instead, the golden-haired ellon gave him a piercing look and then smiled. "You are wise beyond your years, Erestor, and you are correct. I live. What indeed is there to mourn?" He stared pensively into the fire and silence enveloped them for some time. Finally, though, Erestor spoke.

"So what now?" he asked, trying to sound diffident but not entirely succeeding.

Glorfindel gave him a rueful look. "I usually spend the day weeping and wailing and then sleep for most of the next, but I don’t wish to do that now."

"What do you wish to do?"

For a moment, Glorfindel did not answer, and when he did, his voice was hesitant, as if he feared Erestor would reject what he had to say. "I... I would like to talk about Gondolin... before it... died."

"And I will gladly listen to whatever you have to say," Erestor replied earnestly.

And so, that day and into the next, Glorfindel spoke of Gondolin, the good, the bad and the indifferent, and Erestor listened, rarely speaking unless to ask for clarification. He noticed that as his friend spoke of those times, his demeanor began to lighten and he appeared less tense and moody. There were still tears but there was laughter, as well, and Erestor joined him in both. When the fifth day came, they made ready to return to Lindon, climbing back onto the headland to where Tuor waited for them with equine patience.

"I want to thank you for your presence, Erestor," Glorfindel said, sounding somewhat shy. "I would like it if you would come with me next year as well."

"I am honored that you would wish for me to come," Erestor said, "but I think next year, another would benefit more by accompanying you."

Glorfindel cast him an enquiring look and then nodded as he understood Erestor’s words. "Elrond," he said. "I fear I have been remiss with him."

Erestor shook his head. "Elrond values privacy for himself and does not begrudge the need of it in others, but I think he would be glad that you wish to share this time with him. Few there are in Lindon who even remember Tuor and Idril, and he has few, if any, real memories of Eärendil. Your reminiscences would be most welcome for him."

Glorfindel did not say anything at first, merely leaping lightly on Tuor’s back, putting a hand out for Erestor to climb up behind him. Only when they were on their way did he speak. "Perhaps you can both join me next year or mayhap I will stay in Lindon and celebrate Mid-summer with my friends, instead."

"Well if you do decide to make your usual pilgrimage, I’ll remember to bring my own horse," Erestor said with a chuckle. Tuor neighed and bobbed his head as if he were agreeing with him and then the two friends were laughing, leaving behind dark memories of a drowned land along with the gulls and the ocean waves.

****

Words are Sindarin unless otherwise noted.

Ellon: Male Elf.

Adar: Father.

Fëa: (Quenya) Spirit, soul. The Sindarin form is fae.

Ennyn e-Laer: Gates of Summer, i.e., the Summer Solstice.

****

Glorfindel’s Lament:

I fell —

and fire and shadow fell with me.

     Where now the Golden Flower of Gondolin?

     Where now the hero’s sword?

     Where now brave Glorfindel?

Into the abyss we fell —

hero and enemy —

into Death and Shadows everlasting.

     Where now the Golden Flower of Gondolin?

     Where now the hero’s sword?

     Where now brave Glorfindel?

Into the West my spirit having flown,

My body lies now under a burial mound,

’neath the grey waters of doomed Beleriand.

     But I live again, having died,

     and I must know:

     For what fate?

****

Linguistic notes for ‘Glorfindel’s Lament’:

Dannassen = intransitive first person singular past tense form of danna- ‘to fall’. Dhannasser and dhannassem are lenited forms of the third and first persons plural, respectively.

Morchant = ‘shadow’, i.e. referring to shadows with a recognized form.

Dúaith = plural of Dúath: ‘dark shadow’ and may be considered a personification of the word.

Massâd = man sâd (with assimilation), literally, ‘what place’.

Adguion = ad- ‘again’ + cuia- ‘live’ + -n ‘first person singular suffix pronoun’. In Sindarin, first and second person singular drop the final _a_ of an A-verb and replace it with _o_.

Manadh = doom, fate, final end, fortune.

****

Note: A description of the origin of Erestor and Gorfindel’s friendship can be found in my story Beginnings.

****

As the Tolkien Tango prompts at Leaf and Stone have been discontinued, this will be the final story of my Tapestry series. However, I have started a new series of stories based on prompts taken from other sources called Tales from Vairë’s Loom.