Sad Wings of Destiny

Miriel�s latest bout of melancholy kept her from training the following day. Not wholly understanding what ailment plagued their friend, the twins questioned her, trying to determine whether her condition was physical or emotional. The Slayer�s outright refusal to answer any of their questions made them realize that it was most likely the latter of the two. They should�ve spotted it right away, considering they had witnessed a similar episode while on the road. Whatever was behind Miriel�s latest slump, they thought it best to give her a couple of days to get over it on her own.

When three days had passed, and the Slayer still claimed to be ill, Glorfindel�s concern grew.

�Do you think that I�ve worked her too hard?� the Noldo asked the twin sons of Elrond, thinking he was responsible for Miriel�s emotional distress.

�No,� answered Elrohir. �We have witnessed this before. I think there�s some sorrow in Miriel�s past that surfaces from time to time. But what that might be � I don�t know.�

That�s when Glorfindel decided to take matters into his own hands. He came to believe that Miriel was becoming burned out on their workouts, that perhaps their sessions had been overly long. There had to be a happy medium, some balance. What she needed was a relaxing hobby of some sort. Unfortunately, Glorfindel had never given much thought to Miriel�s interests outside of slaying. He had focused so much of their time on making her a better warrior that he knew nothing of her, the girl. The time had arrived when that had to change.

The Noldo marched upstairs to her room. He rapped on the door a few times before cracking it opened. �I hope you�re decent,� he called out. He then entered the room, closing the door behind him. The Slayer lay curled up in bed. �Rise and shine, Miriel,� he ordered as he stomped over to her bed.

She didn�t move or acknowledge Glorfindel in any way.

�So, that�s how it is, eh?� he remarked, standing over her curled up form. He pulled the covers back. �Out of bed, Miriel!� he ordered, his voice much more demanding.

He whipped the covers off the girl, which finally brought about a response. �Leave me alone! I�m sick!� she exclaimed, reaching for the covers once again.

The Noldo took the bedclothes and threw them onto the floor. �I�ll have none of this, Dagnir. You have five minutes to get dressed and meet me downstairs,� he commanded. As he started toward the door, he added, �The countdown has started. Hurry it up!� He then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Miriel sat up in bed, running her fingers through her disheveled hair. By the tone in Glorfindel�s voice, she could tell that he meant business. Why else would he barge into her room without an invite? The Elf Lord had never done that before. The girl reluctantly crawled out of bed and changed into her own clothing, her eyes constantly darting to the clock, watching the time. Once dressed, she ran a brush through her hair before leaving her bedchamber.

Glorfindel stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking somewhat annoyed. �You�re four minutes and twenty-seven seconds late,� he announced, slipping his watch back into his pocket.

�Whatever,� she mumbled, trying to skirt past him.

The Noldo grabbed her arm, stopping her. �We�re not training today,� he informed her. �Come with me.� He then led her down one of the corridors that she seldom frequented.

�What are we doing?� she asked, her interest piqued now that she knew they weren�t going to practice.

�We need to balance our exercises with something more relaxing.� He glanced at the Slayer. �Since I�m unaware of your interests, I�ve decided to show you mine. Perhaps you�ll be as fond of it, as I am.�

�And what exactly are your interests?�

�You�ll see soon enough,� he replied, turning down another hallway. A short ways down the corridor, he flung open a door to their right. �In here,� he said, motioning her inside.

When Miriel stepped into the chamber, she froze. She was in an enormous kitchen. A dozen or so people were inside going about their daily routine, undeterred by her presence. �What are we doing here?� she queried in disdain, none too pleased with the thought of cooking.

�I would think that�s obvious. We�re going to cook,� replied the Elf, slipping past her, deeper into the kitchen. �Nothing is more relaxing or rewarding than preparing food for those that you love.�

The Slayer�s jaw went agape. She had never imagined the mighty Glorfindel as a cook. That seemed unnatural. He was a warrior � a great warrior, not a servant!

�This morning we�re going to make apple tarts,� he announced, heaving a crate of apples onto the countertop. �Of course, with a household this size, we need lots of apples.� He then lifted another crate of apples, setting it on the counter too.

Miriel�s jaw dropped further. �I�m not a cook,� she announced in dismay.

Glorfindel looked up at her with a smile on his handsome face. �Then that�s about to change. Come on over here. Grab a knife and get to peeling.�

The Slayer was still shocked. �Shouldn�t that be their job?� she asked, pointing to the other men going about the kitchen.

�Today it�s your job! Now, come on. We have a lot of work to do.�

With a heavy sigh, Miriel shuffled over to Glorfindel. There must have been hundreds of apples in those crates!

The Elf Lord handed her a knife. �We�ll put the peelings in this box,� he said, as he speedily peeled an apple, letting the skin fall into a large wooden container on the floor. �The apples need to be cored as well. But, we�ll do that after we get all these peeled.�

Overwhelmed, the girl�s eyes darted from the apples to the Elf. �You�re serious then? You expect me to peel apples?�

�I know you�re not dim, Miriel,� answered Glorfindel. �Now, come on. Get a move on. The quicker you start, the faster we�ll get done.�

Miriel grabbed a piece of fruit and started to work, grumbling under her breath.

�You�re taking off too much of the flesh,� chastised the Elf. �Just the skin. Watch me.� Glorfindel moved quickly and precisely. He was able to remove all the skin in one long piece, something the Slayer couldn�t do.

After a little while, she managed to find her groove though she didn�t move nearly as fast as the Noldo. She glanced around at the other men in the kitchen. Most were in various stages of making bread; something she would learn was done throughout the day, each and every day. Others were busy making the pastry for the tarts.

�What�s on your mind, Miriel?� Glorfindel asked. �I can see that you�re preoccupied with your thoughts.�

The girl tossed her peeled, misshapen apple into the tall pot sitting on the counter. She gave another uneasy glance at the others in the room. She leaned a bit closer to the Elf Lord. �Isn�t this demeaning for one of your stature? I mean, you�re Glorfindel, the greatest warrior in Middle-earth,� she whispered anxiously. �And this is... � she paused, leaning even closer to the Elf, �... servants� work.�

Glorfindel let out a hearty laugh, which seemed to echo within the enormous room. �Servants� work?!� he exclaimed.

The other Elves looked at the Slayer and Glorfindel, shaking their heads, but smiling.

�I enjoy cooking, and I think you will too. We all need to do our parts, don�t you think? We all need to contribute if we�re able.�

Miriel snapped her head back, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. She watched the others out of the corner of her eye, hoping she hadn�t offended anyone. From that point on, she kept her mouth shut, and did as she was told. She had no idea that cooking with Glorfindel would actually bring them closer together in the long run, and that she would finding cooking quite rewarding.

With the tarts baking in the numerous ovens, the aroma of cinnamon and apples filled the kitchen. It was a heavenly scent that made the Slayer�s mouth water, and her stomach rumble. When the first batch was ready, Miriel pulled them from the oven.

�And do you know what the best part is?� asked Glorfindel, as he inhaled the tart in her mittened hands. Before she could answer, he added with a wink, �We get to sample them first.�

The Noldo instructed Miriel to take the first steaming tart over to the table in the corner of the room. Once it had cooled, all the cooks took a break from their various assignments and enjoyed a slice of what would be tonight�s dessert. Hearing the others� praises lifted Miriel�s spirits. She had learned a new skill, though she couldn�t see how this would be useful to her in the future.

From that point on, Glorfindel rearranged their daily schedule. Mornings would be spent in the kitchen cooking, while their afternoons would be devoted to training.

As they settled into this new routine, Miriel couldn�t help but notice how relaxed and at ease the Noldo was whenever they were in the kitchen. She soon learned that this was the best time to question him about his past, the Elder Days and beyond.

Without hesitation, he answered her questions, telling her of Valinor and Eldamar, in which Tirion was the main elvish city, and home to most of the Elves that eventually returned to Middle-earth in the First Age. He even told her about Gondolin, Turgon, Idril and Tuor - Elrond�s kinfolk. She was surprised to learn from Glorfindel that Tuor had been admitted into Aman and is now accounted amongst the Eldar, even to this very day.

�I wonder if any other Men have been granted that same gift,� Miriel wondered aloud. �Or if the Valar would allow another to become immortal.�

�That I cannot say,� answered Glorfindel, glancing at the girl, thinking that she was speaking of herself. �Immortality is a double-edged sword,� he added.

�Yes, yes. I know,� Miriel sighed with a roll of her eyes. �All the Eldar seem to refer to life in that way.� She continued to busily knead the dough with which she was working. �You know there are those in Gondor that are still displeased with Elros� choice from long ago. They felt he chose wrongly. That they should have immortality.�

�And do you happen to be one of them?�

Miriel thought for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. �No, I don�t think so.�

�You sure about that?� he queried, his brows raised in question.

�I�m sure. I mean, as a people, the D�nedain have been given a longer lifespan, though, in Gondor, our bloodlines have become mingled with those of lesser folk and our years have shortened.� She snickered. �And then there are those like me, whose lifespan is to be cut much, much shorter.�

It pained the Noldo to hear the Slayer say that. His heart went out to her. She was so young, so very young. �You don�t know that,� he said, not wanting her to lose hope.

�I�m not a fool, Glorfindel,� she replied, locking eyes with the Elf Lord. �I know I haven�t learned a great deal about being a Slayer just yet, but I do know they are not long lived. I do not see me being the exception.�

�You seemed to have accepted that rather well,� he said, studying the girl with his keen grey eyes.

�What choice do I have?� she answered with an uneasy chuckle, breaking eye contact with the Elf.

The mood in the room suddenly changed to one of trepidation. All those in the kitchen felt it. The topic of conversation had led to that one inevitable question that the Elves knew Miriel would ask of her elven mentor. The silence was nearly deafening.

And then, in a faint voice that all could clearly hear, Miriel asked, �Does it hurt?�

She needn�t have said any more than that, as all knew what she was talking about, including the golden-haired Noldo. The Slayer continued to knead her dough, but her eyes shifted back to Glorfindel standing on the opposite side of the table. The others watched the mighty lord out of the corner of their eyes, anxious to see how he would respond to such a question.

After a long pause, he softly said, �Yes, but only briefly.� He then turned his gaze to the Slayer. His eyes revealed his sorrow, his tone riddled with pain. �Then it stops. The pain stops.�

Miriel felt herself becoming misty-eyed. She had never seen an emotional Glorfindel before, but she couldn�t help but follow up that question with another. She had to know. �What happens then?�

�You hear the Call, beckoning you... � His words trailed off.

�Beckoning you where?� she prodded, unable to drop the subject.

�To Mandos,� he replied, still speaking softly.

�And then what happens?�

�You are put in a chamber, alone, to think over your life�s deeds. In time � I cannot rightly say how long, for time seems to come to a standstill � you are brought before Mandos� throne, to be judged. It is he that decides your fate.�

Miriel found that terrifying. She looked down at the dough she was kneading, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

Glorfindel sadly added, �I can only share with you my own experience, Miriel. And, I�m afraid that I must tell you that Men are not reborn in Valinor. Where they go after they die, I do not know.�

The mood in the kitchen became somber. Conversations of that sort had never taken place in there before. Even Glorfindel�s normally good spirits seemed to diminish, and he fell quiet. The Slayer constantly sniffed back her tears. Instead of finding peace of mind in the Noldo�s words, she became fearful, wondering what happened to Men when they died.

Glorfindel called off practice later that afternoon. There was no doubt in Miriel�s mind that she was responsible for that. She hadn�t meant to stir up any gloomy memories in the Noldo, but she hadn�t been able to help herself. She was curious about death. And whom else could she ask, other than one who had died and come back? She hoped and prayed that she hadn�t upset Glorfindel to the point where he would avoid her. Over the weeks, her feelings for him had grown deeper, way beyond �infatuation� as Elrohir had called it. Miriel was in love with the Elf Lord. She had been since the first moment she laid eyes on him�



That night, when Miriel fell asleep, she had her first dream � her first real dream since Buffy came into her life. It was nighttime. Thousands of stars glimmered above in the otherwise pitch-black sky. She was alone with Glorfindel in a small clearing in the woods of Rivendell that she had not seen before. He had just asked her to become his wife.

�Of course I will,� she gushed, throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him for the first time.

Then, to her dismay, she heard a familiar voice say, �Miriel, you slut!�

She jumped, startled by Buffy�s sudden appearance. When she looked back where Glorfindel had been only a split second before, he was gone, leaving Miriel crushed.

�Damn,� she muttered, disappointed in her mentor�s timing. Why o� why couldn�t Miriel dream like normal people? Could she not dream as she wished?

�He�s so outta your league, girl,� Buffy snickered, as she walked over to her prot�g�. �He�s like, what, a gazillion years old?�

Miriel was thankful for the darkness. She knew her face was bright red. She could actually feel the heat emitting from her skin, as the blood rushed to her cheeks.

�Your timing sucks!� said Miriel, frowning.

�Sorry,� drawled Buffy. She stopped before the young Slayer. �You know he�s too old for you. You�re like a child to him. No, an infant,� she said correcting herself. �No, wait. A zygote. An embryo.� The elder Slayer was quite amused over the little scenario she had wandered up on.

�Why would you say that?� asked Miriel in dismay.

�Because it�s true. And I don�t want you to get your hopes up and have your heart broken,� replied Buffy in a more serious voice.

�Age is just a number. It means nothing,� mumbled Miriel, looking down at her feet.

�Miriel, you�re seventeen. Glorfindel�s � God only knows how old � don�t go there,� she cautioned her prot�g�.
The young Slayer lifted her head, locking eyes with her mentor. �Did you think the same thing about Angel? That he was too old for you?�

Buffy cleared her throat, taken aback that Miriel knew anything about Angel. �H-how do you know about,� she paused, clearing her throat again, �Angel?�

�Do you think that it�s only you that knows about me?� replied Miriel. �I have never said anything because there was no point. But, if I recall correctly � and I believe I do � he�s over two and half centuries older than you, and, a vampire.� The girl made a point to emphasize the word vampire, since it was illogical for a Slayer to have any romantic feelings for one of the purported bad guys.

�He has a soul,� said an uncomfortable and slightly shaken Buffy. �That makes a difference.�

�If you say so,� replied Miriel, somewhat skeptically.

�What does that mean?� The elder Slayer felt as if her blood was beginning to boil. Angel was off limits, as far as topics of conversation were concerned.

�It doesn�t matter, Buffy,� said Miriel. �Let�s just forget it. Suffice it to say, the heart wants what the heart wants. I do not think either of us have a say so in the matter. Can you agree with that?�

�Yeah, I suppose so,� sighed the elder Slayer. �Love sucks,� she added with a groan.

�I wouldn�t know,� remarked the girl, shifting her gaze to the starlit sky.

Buffy stared at her prot�g�. There was such sadness to her tone that the elder Slayer found it gut-wrenching. She didn�t want Miriel to not experience love. �What about Bregolas? Didn�t you love him?� Buffy could only surmise that that was true, especially seeing how Miriel always wore his ring on that chain around her neck.

The young Slayer faced Buffy. �You know it�s not the same. That he wasn�t the one,� she answered glumly.

�And Glorfindel is?� queried the elder Slayer.

Miriel nodded. �It feels right.�

Buffy placed a hand comfortingly on the girl�s shoulder. �Just be careful. I don�t wanna see you get hurt. Love can be painful, sometimes.�

�But it can also be blissful, right?� said a hopeful Miriel.

�Yeah, right,� replied Buffy, forcing a smile. Her voice was not as convincing as it should have been. Love had always tasted bittersweet to Buffy, and she could assume that with Miriel being a Slayer, the same would be true for her. Especially if the girl was going to fall for someone who�s immortal. That had disaster written all over it.

Alas, talking about love proved to be a downer for both Slayers. They didn�t really say much more after that, as each girl pondered her own heart�s desire�



To Miriel�s delight, Glorfindel did not avoid her. In fact, quite the opposite. While she was sleeping, the Noldo slipped into her room, waking her. When her eyes fluttered opened, she saw him leaning over her, his body emitting a soft light in the otherwise darkened chamber. Her heart pounded in her chest. She thought she was in a dream.

�Get dressed, Miriel,� he said softly. �You and I are going on a hunting trip. Pack what you may need for a few days journey. When you�re ready, meet me in the kitchen.�

He then slunk out of the room as quietly as he had entered, leaving Miriel breathless and wide-awake.

She scrambled out of bed, lit a lamp, and dressed as quickly as she could. Her hands were literally trembling with excitement as she crammed a few essential items into her bag. The mere thought of going anywhere with the Noldo, especially alone, made her think that he had the same feelings for her, as she for him.

When her things were packed, she raced down the hall to the nearest bathroom, washing up before meeting Glorfindel downstairs. She hurriedly walked along the dimly lit hallway on the second floor of the house. Once she reached the stairs, she took them three at a time in her eagerness to reach the kitchen. The house was still; quiet, as most of those that dwelled here lay in their beds, sleeping. They should be. After all, it was nearly four thirty in the morning.

As soon as she entered the kitchen, Miriel was greeted by those Elves that were always awake at that hour � the cooks. They were already busy preparing baked goods for the morning meal since it took a long time to cook enough food for a household of that size.

�Good morning, all,� she said cheerfully, nearly bouncing across the massive chamber to the table where Glorfindel sat, eating breakfast.

�How about some breakfast, Miriel?� queried one of the elven cooks. �I can have it ready in no time flat.�

�Thanks, Amdir. That�d be great!� she replied, dropping her bag beside the table. �Good morning, Glorfindel,� she said, taking a seat across from the Elf Lord.

�Good morning,� he said between chews. �I see that you�re ready for our little excursion.�

�Yep, all packed and raring to go,� she answered with a smile, sounding remarkably like Buffy. She plopped down on the wooden chair. �So what will we be hunting?� the Slayer asked anxiously.

�It�s hard to say, really,� responded Glorfindel, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He smiled. �I reckon it depends on what we come across. The valley�s flooded with deer and boar at this time of year. Who knows? We may find both.�

�I�ve never hunted big game before,� Miriel revealed, pouring herself a cup of tea. �Only conies.�

�You�ve hunted coney?� queried the Noldo in surprise.

�I had to, to survive,� she replied. �I can�t fish for the life of me, and hunting seems to have come more naturally.� She shrugged. �I guess it must be my Slayer prowess.�

�Perhaps,� he chortled, taking a bite of toast.

Before Miriel knew it, a plate full of food was placed in front of her. She dug in, having a sneaking suspicion that this would be her last �real� meal until she and Glorfindel returned. She assumed they would be eating lembas on their journey, as it seemed that that was what the Elves ate when they traveled abroad.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, they were ready to depart. To her surprise, they weren�t going on foot, but on horseback.

�How does one hunt from atop a horse?� asked a dumbfounded Miriel, as they walked to the stables.

�How does one bring back one�s kill without the aid of a mighty steed?� he queried in response. Glorfindel glanced at her, adding, �We�ll be hunting on foot. But carrying deer or boar is too burdensome, and very unpleasant.�

�That�s a good point.�

There was a chill in the air, which was typical for that time of year. It was now mid-November; nearly three months after the Slayer had first arrived in Imladris. She shivered, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

�Cold?� the Noldo asked, having seen her shudder.

�Just a little chilly. I�m fine.�

Before long, they were riding northeast under a blanket of stars. The air was even more crisp, lashing at Miriel�s face as the steeds trotted across the grass. She couldn�t believe that she was going off with Glorfindel. Early into the ride, she actually pinched herself to prove that she wasn�t dreaming.

�Is something wrong?� asked the Elf Lord when he heard her muffled whimper of pain.

Trying to come up with a quick, plausible excuse, she said, �I somehow twisted my ankle in the stirrup.� Miriel looked away from Glorfindel, wondering if he�d buy that story. It sure didn�t make any sense to her. She pretended to be looking at the forest, off to the east.

�Oh,� he replied, buying her lie hook, line and sinker. �Be careful.�

The Slayer let out a sigh of relief.

Under the cover of darkness, they rode across the vast plains of the valley, passing lush pastures and rich farmland that Miriel could not see. Glorfindel indicated that they would begin the hunt at the shoulders of the Misty Mountains, for there were a few watering holes in the northeast corner of the valley that attracted an abundance of wildlife.

The grey, dim light of morning greeted them just when they were to make their ascent up the narrow stony trails that lead to their desired location.

�Timing is of the utmost importance,� announced the golden-haired Noldo. �It is far too dangerous to have the horses climb these pathways at night.�

No truer words could have been spoken. The horses crept along the trail, which wound its way up from the feet of the mountains. As they rode, Miriel�s eyes constantly surveyed the region. She could see why Elrond had chosen this place long ago as an abode for him and his people.

Since being on her own, the Slayer had learned that if one was to survive in a world filled with monsters of all kinds, one had to be wary and think defensively. That was the key to survival. As her eyes scanned the valley from this new perspective, she could see how defensible a place it was. The tall, sheer rock walls of the Misty Mountains formed a natural barrier on three sides of Imladris; impassible by any on foot. The swift Bruinen with its high banks acted as a moat of sorts, protecting the valley from a possible attack from that direction. She now understood why the Elves had built such a narrow bridge, for if the enemy ever dared to attack, they would have to march in single file across the stone pass. Rivendell had built-in natural defenses, the likes she had never seen before. That gave the place an even more elvish feel to it, as the Elder Children loved everything about nature.

From time to time, Glorfindel would glance over his shoulder and could see that Miriel was doing a visual inspection of the terrain.

�You�re safe here,� he said, thinking that she was concerned about a possible ambush. �I can assure you that Rivendell is well protected. War has never come to our door, yet.�

�I�m not worried about that,� she replied, her eyes still scanning the area below them. �I can�t help but think how perfect a place this is, how defensible it is.�

The Noldo laughed. The sound of his laughter warmed Miriel�s heart. It was so uplifting! �You think like a lord should, and that�s a good thing.�

�Security is imperative!� she acknowledged. �There were times, when on the road, that I even sought refuge in the treetops. I found it safer than being on the ground.� That was the first time Miriel had ever brought up her life prior to her arrival in Rivendell, with Glorfindel. She had only discussed tidbits with Elrond (not by choice!) and his children; no one else.

�That is wise, when the trees are not barren,� remarked the Elf Lord, delighted that after all their time together, the Slayer was beginning to open up more. �Our kin in L�rien dwell in the treetops as well. They have since the Elder Days. Though, I must say, I�m not rather fond of living on talans, no matter how fair they may be. As a Noldo, I prefer the ground firmly under my feet.�

�You sound more like a Dwarf than an Elf,� Miriel chuckled.

�And what would you know about the Naugrim?� he asked lightheartedly, trying to see if he could get her to open up a bit more about her past.

�Not much,� answered a thoughtful Miriel. �I�ve only met Dwarves once. They were kind, though. We did a little bartering a while back.�

�The Dwarves are notorious for being shrewd negotiators!� commented Glorfindel. �I hope they didn�t fleece you too badly.�

�I think I made out alright,� she boasted, sounding as if she had gotten the upper hand on the hagglers.

�Pray tell, what was it that you bartered, then I can judge who bested who?�

Of course, being asked such a question put Miriel in a precarious situation. While she deemed that it was okay to lie about her earlier wince, it was altogether different to concoct a story, painting her as a better negotiator than the Dwarves. As much as she wanted to, the Slayer could not lie to the Elf Lord. Perhaps it was her feelings for Glorfindel that prevented her from doing so. At that moment, she was grateful that he was riding in front of her. She knew her cheeks were flushed.

�A gold chain for food,� she admitted, her tone sounding much glummer than she wished.

The Noldo did not immediately respond. When he heard Miriel say that, it broke his heart. He couldn�t fathom what she had endured on the road, and bartering for food proved that she had suffered hardships along the way. He heard the pain in her voice though she tried not to show it. Glorfindel felt that he needed to rein in his questioning. The last thing he needed was for the Slayer to suffer another bout of melancholy.

�It sounds like you bested them, Miriel,� he finally said after some time. Trying to lighten the mood, he added with a chortle, �The Naugrim like their food nearly as much as their treasures! They are not known for easily parting with either!�

�I found them to be quite fair � generous even.� The Slayer made a point to emphasize the last part of her sentence. She hated that the histories of Men (and, apparently Elves) depicted the Children of Aul� as a greedy people. She hadn�t found them to be that way at all. Well, at least not those Dwarves that she had met.

As she thought back to her meeting with Gimli, his father, and their fellow travelers, a smile came to her face. �Perhaps having caught one of them in my snare gave me some leverage,� she added with a chortle. Miriel couldn�t believe she had actually said that out loud.

Glorfindel�s head spun around. His bright, grey eyes widened. �You what?� he asked, stunned by that revelation.

Hoping to keep the mood light, the Slayer then shared her story with the Noldo, telling him how she had come to meet the Dwarves on her travels. It did seem to be a rather amusing tale, especially after the fact.

When she had finished her story, Glorfindel replied, �Consider yourself blessed to have met friendly folk on your journey. Not all those that travel outside their lands can say such a thing.�

Unfortunately, the mere mention of unfriendly folk brought to mind images of the atrocities Miriel had suffered at the hands of Valandil and his cohorts.

Don�t, Miriel, she pleaded to herself. Don�t think about that. Push it out of your mind. This is supposed to be a pleasant trip. Don�t let yourself become stricken with melancholy. Not now. Not while with Glorfindel.

�But I suppose you had your own dealings with unfriendly types,� Glorfindel continued. �Having to fend off yrch and wargs all by yourself - that is an impressive feat, especially for one so young.� He glanced over his shoulder. �There is no doubt that your skills have vastly improved since then,� he added with a smile.

Miriel�s heart fluttered at the Noldo�s beautiful smile. All morbid thoughts left her mind. �That�s because I�ve trained with the best,� she responded.

Glorfindel laughed heartily, as his gaze returned to the path. �Say that to Halbarad and he�ll have a fit!�

�Why is that?� she queried, glad that the conversation had shifted to a more pleasant topic (if one could refer to Halbarad as that!) �Surely, he knows that a great lord like yourself is more skilled in warfare than he could ever dream of.�

�You flatter me, Miriel,� answered the Noldo with a chortle. �Halbarad is quite eager to train with you. He views being a Watcher as a birthright and was most displeased when Elrond decided that I was to train you myself.�

�One of these days I�ll need to thank Elrond for that,� she uttered. While Miriel had not conversed with the Lord of Imladris since her first meeting with him, she no longer ran when she saw him in the corridors. Now, she nodded as she briskly walked by him, still too uncomfortable with the thought of speaking to him. Perhaps that was rude, but she just couldn�t face him yet.

�You know there will be a time when you�ll have to train with him. He is your Watcher, after all.�

�Yes, I know,� the Slayer replied with a sigh. �He�s been skulking about lately, watching us practice. Same as Aragorn. He tries to hide, but I can see him watching me.�

�Aragorn is a good man, Miriel. It really disturbs him that you mistrust him so. He regrets all that has happened.�

�So, I guess I�ll add you to the list of those that sing the praises of the Ranger Chieftain!�

�And heir to the throne. He is destined to be king one day,� added Glorfindel.

�Do you really think he will be?� queried the girl, somewhat skeptically. �I mean, Arwen tells me that Elrond will only let her marry Aragorn if he reunites the two kingdoms, and rules over both. That hasn�t happened since the days of Elendil!�

�What greater motivator is there than love?� replied the Elf Lord. �And yes, I do believe Aragorn will one day be king.�

�Denethor will shit,� Miriel mumbled under her breath.

�What�s that?� asked Glorfindel, looking over his shoulder at her. He hadn�t heard her last comment.

�Nothing,� she replied. The Slayer would give anything to see the look on her father�s face when he was stripped of his office and station. True, he would probably keep the title of Steward, but the powers he had wielded since Ecthelion�s death would be stripped away. A just punishment, she thought.

The path began to slope downward as they neared the forest. It was midmorning, and the sun�s rays shone over the snow-covered peaks of the Misty Mountains, bathing the valley with a glowing orangey light. The trail they had been following meandered into the woods, running along the base of the mountains. Glorfindel had said that it was fifty some odd miles to their destination. At the horses slow pace, they would get there sometime that afternoon.

Around midday, Glorfindel halted and announced that they would take a break. An ever grateful Miriel dismounted from her steed, eager to walk off the stiffness in her legs and rub her sore rear end.

�You�re not much of a rider, I take it,� said an amused Glorfindel, watching as the Slayer massaged her backside.

�Not really,� she replied, walking around the small glade in which they had stopped. �I prefer walking to riding, any day.�

�Walk the stiffness off and I�ll ready things for our meal,� he declared, as he began to rummage through his pack.

Miriel had thought that they would be eating lembas, but she should�ve known better, seeing as how Glorfindel prided himself as a cook. They had an entire roasted chicken that the Noldo had stashed away from last night�s supper. That, and a loaf of bread made early that morning, proved to be the perfect feast. Since the best time to hunt was either right before dawn or right after dusk, they took their time, leisurely eating their lunch.

That food which they did not finish was wrapped in cloth, and placed back in the Elf Lord�s bag to be eaten later. Before long, they climbed atop their horses and set off once again.

Later that afternoon they reached the spring heads. There were actually quite a few of them, but their streams disappeared underground, flowing into the Bruinen River some distance away. Before allowing the horses a drink, Glorfindel wanted to inspect the earth for animal tracks around the watering holes.

�Look at that, Miriel!� said the Noldo pointing to a recently dug hole in the dirt. �Boars have been rooting here in search of food.� He crouched down, and touched the dirt with his fingers. �This is recent. Most likely from this morning.� He then rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his hands. His eyes followed the tracks that disappeared into the woods. The Elf Lord then began to follow the tracks, calling for Miriel to follow.

�See here!� he said, now pointing near the bottom of a tree where its bark had been stripped off. �Boars sharpen their tusks on trees. Though these markings are old, that tells you that they come here often.�

Though the Slayer understood that Glorfindel wanted to teach her these new skills, she really wasn�t all that interested. She had never hunted big game because she thought it would be wasteful to kill something so large for only herself. And let�s face it, her motivation for coming was to spend some alone time with the Noldo. Pure and simple! However, in typical womanly fashion, Miriel feigned interest in all that the Elf was showing her.

�How do you know that a boar left those markings? Do deer not sharpen their racks on trees as well?� She thought by asking those questions, it would show that she wanted to learn.

�You are correct,� he answered, smiling. �But deer tend to leave their markings higher up on the tree. Boar have shorter legs and are highly aggressive, especially if their young are nearby.�

Glorfindel then decided to search the forest to show Miriel the difference between the markings left by deer and boar. They had a lot of free time on their hands. First, they watered the horses, before leading them deeper into the woods and out of sight of the springs. The Elf Lord worried that his and Miriel�s scent might prevent the big game from returning.

�They have to drink, don�t they?� Miriel asked after the Noldo had voiced his concern. �No creature can go without water.�

�True, but there are other means in which wildlife can hydrate themselves. They are highly adaptable animals, and can quench their thirst from the dew on leaves or from whatever greenery they can find. Plants contain water, and animals can make due with that for some time,� he informed her.

The Slayer stifled a yawn. She and Glorfindel stomped around in the woods, but never did find any markings left by deer. As much as Miriel was loathed to admit it, she now wished that she hadn�t come along. Wandering around the forest, inspecting the ground and trees for signs of big game was not at all what she thought it would be. It was tedious, boring. She had assumed they�d just shoot some passing deer as they went along. Funny how things never go as one expects!

While Miriel thought that was bad enough, hunting proved to be worse. She and Glorfindel hunkered in the brush, down wind from the spring heads. The Noldo demanded absolute silence, which was easier said than done! Any time the Slayer felt the need to move, to stretch the stiffness from her legs, the leaves that covered the forest floor crunched loudly. Glorfindel�s response was always the same. His head would spin in her direction, his eyes narrowed, telling her to shush. When she tried to apologize, he�d shush her again. It was a no win situation. It seemed to Miriel that she didn�t have enough patience for this sport. For some reason, hunting conies was a hell of a lot easier than hunting big game. She could only assume that deer and boar had bigger brains, so they must be smarter.

As darkness began to engulf them, the Noldo finally gave up for the night. �I�m afraid our scent has scared them off,� he said, sighing in defeat. However, he quickly added in a more hopeful voice, �There�s always tomorrow.�

�Great,� replied Miriel, feigning enthusiasm that time. Her joints popped as she stood up. Her body ached all over.

�Let�s head back to camp,� instructed Glorfindel, sliding his bow over his shoulder.

The Slayer murmured in agreement, grateful to be moving once again. Their campsite, where the horses were tethered, was further down wind from the watering holes. Glorfindel hoped that other critters would visit the springs throughout the night, which would mask whatever lingering smell he and Miriel had left behind.

When they got back to their camp, Miriel gathered some wood so Glorfindel could start a fire. As the sun sank, so did the temperature. It was cold, so cold that the Slayer could see her and the Noldo�s breath. What a welcomed sight it was when the Elf Lord sparked their fire. The wood crackled and popped as the flames licked at the wood, filling the immediate area with both light and heat.

They finished off the remnants of their earlier meal, along with a couple of apples each. It was still early, but the day had been long, very long. Miriel was already feeling sleepy. Since Glorfindel appeared to be in a talkative mood, she fought sleep. Lying stretched out on her bedroll beside the fire; she listened as the Noldo told her stories from the Elder Days. Though she always found herself captivated by his tales, at some point, Miriel fell asleep.



Way before dawn, Glorfindel woke the Slayer. Their fire had burned out, and it felt colder than it had the night before. She pulled on a thick sweater over her shirt to help ward off the chill. After a quick breakfast, they armed themselves, and crept back through the woods toward the springs. Once again, they concealed themselves amidst the brush and waited... and waited... and waited. Gradually, the blackness was replaced by the dim grey light of morning. Luck didn�t appear to be on their side, as no wildlife of any kind visited the watering holes that morning.

Miriel�s frustration clearly showed on her face, which prompted Glorfindel to say, �Hunting requires patience, Miriel. That�s why I told you to pack things for a few days journey. Our luck will change,� he vowed, trying his best to reassure the Slayer.

�So what are we going to do, just sit around until dusk?� she queried, stretching the stiffness from her limbs.

�Well, we can explore the woods if you�d like,� he suggested.

�What about the horses? I�m sure they�re miserable just standing around. As much as I loath riding, I think they would enjoy a walk.�

�Alright then,� he replied. �We�ll go for a ride.�

That�s how they spent their second day in the wilderness, riding in one giant loop until they ended up back at their campsite later that afternoon.

As the afternoon waned, they returned to the thickets, playing the waiting game yet again. As the sun went down, Miriel found herself dozing off.

She was jolted awake when Glorfindel elbowed her ribs. Without speaking, he motioned toward the springs with his head. Miriel followed his gaze. In the clearing near the spring stood a lone deer, a female. She stood perfectly still, her head raised, her ears erect. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air. After what seemed an eternity, she stepped to the water�s edge and began to drink.

Miriel lifted her bow, but Glorfindel stopped her. With a shake of his head, he mouthed the word, �Wait�. His eyes then returned to the spring. A few minutes later, another doe came into the clearing, followed by another, and another.

The Noldo leaned closer to Miriel. His lips grazed her ear, giving her instant goosebumps. In a barely audible voice he said, �Aim right behind the front shoulder. Shoot at my signal.�

The Slayer nodded. As quietly as she could, she armed her bow, hoping and praying that she�d hit her target. One of the deer suddenly froze, and so did Miriel. She held her breath, fearing that the animal could hear her breathing.

Only a minute later, a buck with enormous antlers crept into the clearing. Miriel�s eyes darted to him. Her heart began to pound frantically in anticipation. If only she could kill that deer! The buck then eased between two females at the spring, making it impossible for her to get a clear shot. From the corner of her eye, she kept watching Glorfindel, waiting for his signal.

In a puff of breath, the Noldo said, �Shoot.�

They both shot at the same time. Miriel could hear the ping of the strings, singing in unison, as their arrows raced through the wind. She watched as the ears on the male swiveled in their direction. Two females let out a low grunt before collapsing onto the ground. The rest of the deer began to high tail it out of there. The buck was the first to disappear from sight. To her amazement, another female dropped before she could escape into the woods. Glorfindel had moved so swiftly that Miriel had never seen him rearm his weapon. Even when it came to hunting, the Noldo again bested the Slayer, killing two deer to her one.

�Go get the horses,� instructed the Elf Lord, leaping to his feet. There was an air of excitement in his voice.

Miriel scrambled out of the bush, her heart still thumping wildly in her chest. She too was excited. This was the first time she had killed big game. She raced between the trees toward their campsite. When she reached the small clearing, the horses were nosing the ground in search of something to eat. She untied the reins as fast as she could before leading the steeds to the springs.

By the time she reached Glorfindel, he had tied ropes to the back legs of one doe. His eyes then scanned the nearest trees, looking for one that was suitable to hang the deer from.

�You mean we have to gut them here?� asked Miriel incredulously.

�Yes, the sooner we do, the better off we are.� He handed Miriel the two strands of rope attached to the female�s legs. �Toss these over that limb,� he ordered, pointing to a specific birch tree. �And then secure them tightly to that smaller tree.�

Miriel threw each rope attached to the doe�s legs over a branch that hung about fifteen feet above them. She then pulled on each rope, lifting the deer off the ground. As she struggled to tie the knots around the smaller tree, she could hear Glorfindel whetting his knife.

�Do you need my help?� he asked.

�I�m quite capable of tying knots, thank you very much!�

The Elf Lord sniggered, waiting for Miriel to complete her task. When she had, he offered her the knife, saying, �Do you want the honors?�

�What am I supposed to do?� she queried, looking from Glorfindel, to the knife, to the doe.

�Slice her throat, of course.�

Miriel�s eyes shifted to the deer, gently swinging from the tree limb. �Um, why don�t you do the first one. Then I can see how it�s done.�

�It�s not difficult at all,� he said, stomping over to the deer. He pulled the head back and in one swift motion, ran the blade across the beast�s throat. Blood gushed from the incision, rapidly forming a pool of crimson on the ground. �It�ll only take a few minutes for her to drain.�

Miriel stared at the puddle of blood, watching as it expanded. Images from the House of Horrors flashed in her mind. She could clearly see in her mind�s eye similar pools of blood surrounding those villains that Beorn had killed, not to mention, her own blood. She wished she could forget that nightmare and wondered if she ever would.

She was so consumed with those thoughts, that she didn�t notice Glorfindel approaching, his fingers dripping with blood. As his hand reached out toward her face, she finally came back to her senses. The Slayer jumped back, shouting, �What the hell are you doing?�

The Noldo was slightly taken aback by her response. �It�s an elvish custom. When one makes their first kill, they are marked with the animal�s blood,� he explained.

�This wasn�t my first kill,� she stated firmly, none too pleased with the thought of having blood of any kind deliberately smeared on her face.

�Oh, come now, Miriel,� the Noldo said, downplaying the whole thing. �It�s tradition. And this is your first kill with me.� He raised his brow. �I thought you liked the elvish ways, hmm.� Before she could respond, he stepped closer and smeared blood on her face, saying, �You�re now a full-fledged hunter.� His smile broadened. He then nodded approvingly at the streaks he had drawn on her face.

He then turned his attention back to the deer, whose blood now fell in drips. �Watch carefully, Miriel, for you will do the next one.� She watched as Glorfindel ran his blade from between the animal�s legs to the incision in its throat. She watched (in horror) as its steaming innards plopped down into the puddle on the ground, splattering blood on both her and the Elf.

�It is of the utmost importance not to cut the bladder or bowels,� said Glorfindel as he cut the membranes that acted as an adhesive for some of the deer�s insides. �That will contaminate the meat, and render it worthless.�

When the first deer was gutted, it was Miriel�s turn to repeat the process on the second. She slit the throat, waiting for the blood to drain out.

�I really wished I could�ve shot that buck. Why o� why did he have to step between the two females?� she moaned.

�It�s instinct,� replied Glorfindel. �Females nearly always leave the cover of the woods first, in case there are any predators nearby. When the males are assured there are no threats, then they�ll step into the open, though they try to limit their exposure to any possible foes.�

�Imagine that,� Miriel snickered, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all. �Using the females as a shield! Why does that not surprise me?�

�It�s that survival instinct � everybody has it. Even people.�

�Well, just so you know, if you try to use me as a shield, I�ll kick your ass all the way to Mount Doom!� warned Miriel, waving her finger in the Noldo�s face.

Glorfindel mockingly appeared aghast. �I would do no such thing! I would act as your shield, if the need arose.�

The Slayer smiled. �That�s more like it. Spoken like a true gentleman!�

In a overly dramatic fashion, the Elf Lord bowed before her. �I would risk my life and limb to protect you.�

�And I would you,� replied a beaming Miriel. And she meant it too.

She then ran her fingers under the stream of blood. �Since this was your first kill with me, I get to mark you as a full-fledged hunter as well,� she informed the Noldo, wanting to paint his face with the deer�s life force. While he had smeared some type of streak-like marking on her face, Miriel decided to paint flowers on his. Every part of his face was covered with flowers. She thought it was befitting, considering that he had once been the lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin. She only hoped that the blood would remain on his face until they returned to the house. She�d love to see the other Elves� reactions when they saw the mighty Glorfindel�s face painted with bloody flowers.

Night arrived before they were able to finish cleaning the last deer. Glorfindel started a fire, deciding that they�d wait until morning before beginning the journey home. After all three deer had been gutted, they were each wrapped in tarps until they departed at first light. The Noldo decided that they�d salvage some of the organs for their supper, choosing the livers to cook over the roaring fire. He cut the meat into chunks, skewered them on sticks and placed them over the fire.

While the food cooked, they sat beside one another in front of the fire, talking.

�Can I ask you something?� Miriel finally had the nerve to question him about something that had been gnawing at her since she had first met the Noldo.

�You can ask me anything,� he answered, stoking the fire with a stick.

�Why is it that Elrond is Lord of Rivendell and you�re not? I mean, you�re an Elda of great wisdom, far older than Elrond.� She turned her gaze from the fire to the Elf. �It just seems to me that you�re more deserving of your own kingdom, to be the lord of Elves.�

Glorfindel�s eyes remained fixed on the fire, but he answered, �Elrond is very deserving of being Lord of Imladris. It was he that discovered the valley long ago.� He paused for a few moments before continuing. �You seem to forget, Miriel, that I did not dwell in Middle-earth for a long, long time. When I was released from Mandos, I returned to Tirion, for a time. It was in Yr 1000 when I returned to these parts to aid my kin that still called this land home.� He then turned his grey eyes to her. �One does not have to be ruler to be a mighty lord.�

Miriel�s heart sank. �I wasn�t implying that you weren�t,� she replied hastily. �I� I just think you�re the greatest� � As soon as the words had left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Not the part about his being the greatest Elf alive � she wholeheartedly believed that. It just made her sound like a love-sick puppy. Cringing inside, she looked back at the fire, embarrassed beyond belief.

�I appreciate your sentiments,� said Glorfindel, recognizing that the Slayer was mortified by what she had said. He refrained from laughing, smiling even. �Elrond is very deserving of his title. He�s earned it. Did you know that he was Ereinion�s heir?�

�Who?� Miriel�s eyes darted back to the Noldo. She had never heard that name before.

�I daresay that the annals in Gondor probably did not record the High King�s birth name. You most likely know him by the name Gil-galad. Am I right?�

Recognition came to the girl�s face. �Oh, yes. I do know that name,� she said, nodding. She stopped, tilting her head to the side, as she looked at Glorfindel. �But, I�m confused. How is it that Elrond is the heir of Gil-galad when E�rendil is his father?�

�Gil-galad had fathered no children whilst here in End�r�, and Elrond was his herald and second in command. Even back then, Elrond�s wisdom was great, having gained considerable knowledge from E�nw� himself, after the fall of Morgoth. Do not underestimate the son of E�rendil�s abilities, for they far greater than you know.�

Miriel tried to explain herself. �I wasn�t implying that he wasn�t great. And I think I�ve seen his abilities first hand. He�s� he�s very perceptive in ways that I find� uncomfortable.�

�I suppose if one was harboring secrets they would find his ability to probe one�s mind unnerving.�

Miriel bowed her head, looking down at her lap. �That�s the truth,� she murmured.

Glorfindel knew that Elrond had seen the Slayer�s past, and he could see that it still bothered her. Gently lifting her chin, he said, �Whatever it was that Elrond has seen, whatever secrets you are keeping, they are safe with him. One of Elrond�s greatest qualities is his trustworthiness. You can trust him� and me.� He softly caressed her skin with his thumb, hoping that she�d find his words comforting.

Miriel looked dreamily into the Elf�s eyes. She was grateful for his kindly nature, and thankful for his friendship. Whether it was the heat of the fire or Glorfindel�s touch, the Slayer suddenly felt hot. So much so, that little beads of sweat formed on her forehead and the palms of her hands. As much as she was loath to, she pulled out of his grasp.

�Is it me or has it suddenly gotten hot!� she exclaimed, pulling at the neck of her sweater.

Her unexpected proclamation made Glorfindel laugh. �It�s just you,� he said, turning his attention to the skewers of meat, which he rotated on his makeshift stand.

Miriel took off her cloak before pulling off her thick sweater. She could instantly feel the cool air on her upper body. She crammed her wool garment into her bag before combing her hair with her fingers. Glorfindel watched her from the corner of his eye.

Shortly thereafter, the Elf Lord turned his attention back to Miriel. �Can I ask you something?�

�Of course.�

�That ring you always wear � who did it belong to?� he asked.

Miriel had become so used to wearing Bregolas� ring around her neck that it almost felt as if it was a part of her. She glanced down at her chest and could see the ring glimmering in the firelight. She picked it up, holding it between her fingers.

�His name was Bregolas,� she said softly. �He was a dear of friend of mine.� She paused. �He died whilst trying to protect me.�

�May I?� asked the Noldo, reaching out for the ring that hung from the silver chain around her neck.

Miriel nodded.

He eased closer, taking the ring with his fingers. �Mithril,� he uttered as his keen elvish eyes inspected the piece of jewelry.

�Uh-huh.�

�He loved you,� revealed Glorfindel, speaking as softly as she had. �This ring meant the world to him because it signified his bond, with you.�

�How do you know that?� queried a stunned Miriel.

�Sometimes, we leave traces of ourselves on things we hold dear,� he replied, still holding the ring. He then added, �And I can see that your love for him was not as his for you.�

The Slayer�s brows shot upward, stunned that the Noldo could perceive her feelings for Bregolas. �You can see that in the ring?�

Glorfindel shifted his eyes to Miriel. �I see it in you,� he answered.

The girl began to worry, fearing that the mighty Elf Lord possessed that same ability as Elrond and could see her mind, her thoughts, her past. She swiftly shifted her eyes back to the ring, hoping that by breaking eye contact with the Noldo, he wouldn�t be able to see anything else.

Though she avoided Glorfindel�s gaze, his eyes remained locked on her, studying her intently. For a brief moment, she had let her guard down and he had felt certain emotions emanating from her essence: fear, pain, betrayal, and guilt.

Deeply concerned, he asked, �What is it in your past that haunts you so?� He paused, allowing Miriel time to answer. When she did not, he continued. �Did he hurt you? Did this Bregolas wrong you in some way?�

The Slayer did not like Glorfindel�s line of questioning. It brought to mind memories she�d rather have forgotten. She turned toward the fire, her movement causing the ring to slip out of the Noldo�s grasp. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding. A part of her wanted to tell Glorfindel everything, every horrible thing that had ever happened to her. But another part of her warned her to keep her mouth shut. She was conflicted by the numerous thoughts running through her mind, and by her feelings for the Elf Lord. To Miriel, Glorfindel was the one, the one she had been waiting for all her life � her true love, her soul mate.

Her eyes began to well with tears. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt a sudden tightening in her throat. �Yes,� she finally whispered after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Grieved to hear that, and going against the counsel of Elrond, Glorfindel then said, �What did he do? What did he do to cause you such pain? You can tell me, Miriel. Whatever you tell me will stay between the two of us. I can promise you that.�

A tear escaped the corner of Miriel�s eye. As it trickled down her cheek, she quickly wiped it away. �It no longer matters,� she croaked, her voice breaking as she spoke. �Bregolas is dead. And it�s my fault,� she confessed weakly.

�No!� replied the troubled Elf Lord. He cradled her face in his hands, forcing her to face him. �You are not responsible for anyone�s death. Whatever ills that have befallen you were not your doing. Sometimes bad things happen to good people.� He had spoken, nearly verbatim, what Buffy had told her some time ago.

However, the Slayer found herself replying, �Yet sometimes it is rightly deserved.�

�How could you believe such a thing?� asked the Noldo, his tone riddled with disbelief.

Unable to hold back, she answered, �Because when I was born, I took a life. I killed my mother and that proved to be an omen of things to come.� Miriel couldn�t believe she had just said that. The floodgates opened. She scrunched her eyes closed as tears streamed down her face.

Glorfindel�s jaw went slightly agape. His heart ached for this child seated beside him. His initial thought that this Bregolas was at the root of Miriel�s inner turmoil had been wrong. It went deeper than that, much, much deeper by the looks of it. He now wished that he had heeded his lord�s advice, and had not opened this door. Yet, over the weeks, he had come to love Miriel, to care deeply about her. And, if by having her talk about these things it could bring her healing, then perhaps it was a necessary evil.

The Noldo wrapped his arms around the Slayer, wanting to comfort her. He stroked her hair, encouraging her to let it all out, telling her that there was no shame in tears. His words were soothing and had a calming effect on the girl.

It was several minutes before Miriel was able to pull herself together. How could she break down like this in front of Glorfindel? �I�m sorry,� she said, drying her wet face with her cloak. �I�m ruining your trip.�

�No, no you�re not,� assured the Elf Lord. He wrapped an arm around the Slayer�s shoulders, holding her close to him. �Listen to me, Miriel. Do not think for one moment that you�re to blame for your mother�s death. Unfortunately, there are times when women die during childbirth, when they forfeit their own life to create a new one. You are not to blame for that, and I cannot fathom why you would think so.�

In a faint voice, Miriel answered, �That�s what my father always said, that I took Finduilas from him.�

A look of contempt came to the Noldo�s handsome face. �Believe not the words of your father!� he said angrily. �How dare he say such a thing to his only daughter!� Not wanting to inflame her ire about Denethor, he tried to rationalize the Steward of Gondor�s comments. �He spoke out of grief, I deem. Sometimes when we�re in pain, we lash out at those whom we love most.�

The Slayer snickered.

�What?� asked Glorfindel, his eyes shifting to the girl nestled in the crook of his arm.

�Denethor does not know what love is, or perhaps his perception of it has been twisted. I hate him.�

�You do not mean that,� the Noldo countered.

�Yes, I do. As far as I�m concerned, he�s dead.�

�You cannot mean that. He�s your father,� protested Glorfindel.

�You don�t know him. You don�t know what he�s really like,� argued Miriel.

�Then tell me what he�s like. Tell me why you feel such enmity toward your father.�

�I don�t want to talk about him any more,� stated the Slayer firmly.

Glorfindel could obviously see that Denethor was a touchy subject with Miriel and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. He hoped that in due time, he could get Miriel to talk in more detail about her past. For one cannot run from one�s past, because, in the end, it will catch up to you�