At the Mercy of a Burning Coal

Disclaimer; Tolkien owns most of the characters in my story.
Note: I was in a teary mood, which may account for the many heartstrings pulled because of this chapter. Sorry those of you out there who don’t like sad stories…but I can’t have all my characters drunk on adventure all of the time.


Glorfindel frowned at the night’s sky, lamenting the loss of something he had wanted for a very long time. Family. Someone to hold, and someone to love. He sighed and curled up as he sat with his back against a great oak tree on the edge of the Greywood…a ways away from the rest of his group who were near the Stonewain Valley.

He sighed and rested his weary brow on his knees for a moment before looking up at the dark sky and whispering fiercely, “ Why? Why did you do this to me? I had done nothing wrong! What did I do to deserve this punishment?!”

He was lamenting the loss of the chance at starting a home…a household full of light and laughter. Filled with happy children and a content wife sitting and playing by the warm fireplace, telling stories and sharing moments of laughter. All of this had been swept away in one single thrust of a sword.

He was now doomed to a life of misery and wandering…watching his kin and those he knew suffer, sail away, and die. Glorfindel’s hands curled into fists and he felt a tear drift down his cheek, though he tried to hold them back. He didn’t want to live in Arda any longer.

Why hadn’t he faded when his love was killed, and his heart lost? He was so close to dying from grief…why hadn’t he? The Valar had other plans for him perhaps…or maybe they took sport in watching him suffer through every minute of every day.

Perhaps, they were toying with him, seeing how long it would take for fate to snatch him in its paws and bear him away to the Halls of Mandos. Perhaps, just perhaps, they held no pity in their hearts…and if they did, he wasn’t included in a group worthy of their sympathy.

***
Lathwen was contemplating what she…they…would do now that her mission had been fulfilled. Lathwen sighed and unconsciously touched the necklace at base of her throat. She needed a moment alone to think.

Lathwen rubbed a temple then stood up and said to the others, “ I’m going to ride Rosethorn just for a bit…I promise I won’t go far.” Lily looked troubled, “ But the Greywood is near here…no doubt the land is simply crawling with guards!” Lathwen smiled, “ I’ll be fine Lily.”

She swiftly saddled Rosethorn and mounted up, leaving the heavy saddlebags full of food and water with Lily, Nestariel, and Edhelwen. The only thing she took was the bag with her map, the odds and ends that the Ragwort’s had left in there, and Glorfindel’s…that abominable elf lord…daggers.

Mindlessly, Lathwen cantered out of the small section of woods and out into a clearing, which separated the Greywood from where she and her friends were staying. She wandered with Rosethorn all about the meadow, sometimes galloping and sometimes walking, depending on what Rosethorn wanted to do.

Lathwen looked about, appreciating the lush landscape. But then…something at the edge of the Greywood caught her eye…yes, there it was again. A shape, a figure of someone was curled up beneath one of the large trees.

Curiously, Lathwen dismounted and tied Rosethorn up, bringing her bow and quiver with her. She silently, stealthily made her way towards the figure, her weapons ready just in case.

Lathwen ducked behind one last tree, and peeked out. She nearly gasped out loud at what she saw. An elf…head resting on bent knees, rocking back and forth with silent sobs.

Seeing this distress and vulnerability, Lathwen felt waves of pity, and felt her own eyes mist over with tears. Carefully, Lathwen crept over till she was standing right beside the poor elf. She bit her lip as she recognized Glorfindel…the one who had made her life miserable from the very day she first laid eyes on him.

Throwing aside her weapons, Lathwen knelt beside him quietly, and tentatively placed her arm around his shoulders. She jumped in surprise as Glorfindel turned and nestled into her side, like a child would to its mother. His forehead rested on her shoulder, so she could feel the tears soaking her tunic.

All doubt that he was truly hurting was gone now, and Lathwen tenderly placed her other arm around him, rocking him back and forth, stroking his golden hair like he was her very own child. Glorfindel stopped his tears, and, without opening his eyes, rested his forehead in the hollow of her neck.

Lathwen sat there without complaining at how long it had been…she waited until Glorfindel was silent and had ceased his shivering. He suddenly lifted his head and opened his eyes, which widened as he saw Lathwen before him. “ Are you all right my lord?” She asked with some concern. Glorfindel nodded silently, his expression still one of surprise.

Lathwen moved to get up but was stopped as Glorfindel reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her from going. “ Please…wait.” He said softly, once again curled up against the tree.

Lathwen gracefully assented, sitting by his side once more, though not touching him this time. Glorfindel looked at her and asked, “ Why is the leader of the Outlaw Maidens here?” His tone was gentle and teasing, much different from the hardened warrior Lathwen had witnessed.

She grinned and said easily, “ Rosethorn and I were out riding, until I saw someone here…” Glorfindel sighed and said, “ Elven grieving is much different than mortals.” Lathwen bristled, but pity took over her heart and she said soothingly, “ But we understand, my lord. I know elves do not usually suffer as much as we do because of death…but when it comes to death among the elves…we simple, weak, ignorant mortals understand.”

Glorfindel sighed, “ Nothing is simple anymore. We cannot even ride in the lands of our birth without being endlessly followed by worry and fear.” Lathwen’s eyes strayed to his and bright blue met grey. Lathwen blushed and looked at her lap. “ Where are your men?” She asked, “ They’ll be wondering where you are.”

He shook his head silently. “ I’ve always wanted a loving wife, children to care for…a family to bring light to my life.” Glorfindel said bitterly. “ But instead I’ve been cursed with the responsibility of caring for many lives…burdened with the task of helping to rid this land of its enemies and impurities.”

Lathwen was startled by this heartfelt confession. She looked with pity on the weary elven figure before her and said, “ Cursed? No, my lord, its an honor to be put in charge of so many…Lord Elrond must trust you greatly. Bear in mind that even with a family you may have this job.” Glorfindel smiled, making Lathwen’s heart flutter. “ An elf taking advice from a mortal? Times have changed.”

Lathwen rolled her eyes, “ And they still are changing my lord.”
“ Glorfindel.”
“ Pardon?”
“ Call me Glorfindel, Alanessa.”
“ Seems a bit familiar coming from the very mortal woman who insulted you, stole from you, and spit on you, wouldn’t you say?”
“ I’m willing to forgive you that.”
“ My lord, I don’t even know you, and you don’t know me. How can you possibly—”

Glorfindel interrupted her, “ But I do know you…better than you would guess.” Lathwen snorted, “ Please…you don’t even know my proper name, much less…” Her eyes widened at her mistake, and she instantly clamped a hand over her mouth. Glorfindel laughed softly, “ What is your real name then?” Lathwen bit her lip, “ My name,” She said almost to herself, “ Is Lathwen.” Glorfindel thought a moment, “ A beautiful name.” Lathwen felt her cheeks turn red, much to Glorfindel’s amusement.

His eyes sparkled with laughter as he went on, “ You are forgiving and able to forget, you have a taste for adventure, and you have a certain love for sarcastic, witty humor.” Lathwen snorted, “ Anyone would have been able to figure out most of that if they spent ten minutes with me.”

Glorfindel went on, “ You are loving, merciful, you have a big heart for one so young, and I think you enjoy my company more than you’re letting on.” Lathwen couldn’t help but laugh at the mischievous look on his face as she began to stand up.

Rosethorn let out a shrill whinny that filled the wood with clamor. Surprised, Lathwen tripped over a tree root and fell across Glorfindel’s lap. She lay there for a moment while Glorfindel laughed. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and got up, brushing herself off. Rosethorn let out a whinny again, causing Lathwen’s head to jerk up as she tried to spy her mount.

If she hadn’t been so busy looking at her horse, she would have seen the yearning on the elf lord’s face, as he looked her up and down, eyes roving her slender frame.

Lathwen didn’t see anything, but still said quickly to Glorfindel, “ I must go my lord…” “ Glorfindel.” Lathwen raised an eyebrow but said, “ Goodbye Glorfindel.” And she sprinted off into the darkness, taking her bow and quiver as she went.

Glorfindel sighed heavily after she had left…her visit had left him hungry for contact…just a single gesture, like a hand on his shoulder made him happy. For no one touched him at all…everyone treated him with respect and awe…everyone except Faelwen…but she was gone.

He had relished her hold on him, the bliss unimaginable. He missed the fact that no one would give him even a friendly pat on the back since Gondolin. But Alanessa…Lathwen rather, had treated him like a normal human being. He liked that.