Lost and Found Again

Chapter 3 - Glorfindel

Glorfindel had to admit, he loved the peace that came with Imladris. In Gondolin there had always been a tension, a fear, something that was hereditary to living in a city that's way of life was constantly under siege. He had enjoyed the ridiculous songs and poems that had been written about the extravagance with which they had lived, all lies of course, for how on earth would any city trying to keep itself hidden have managed to assemble twenty boars for a single feast honoring midwinter? But in all honesty Glorfindel had found life in Gondolin, while enjoyable, more of a watchful peace than anything that seemed permanent or lasting. Imladris seemed, well, forever, as if it was not going anywhere soon, and there was no reason for fear in the valley. People were able to live freely and in plenty, which made the valley's humble beginnings as a military base under his watch all the more unbelievable.

Night watches, while necessary, nearly always proved to be uneventful, the few sightings of orcs they had few and far between. Still Glorfindel had, from the humble beginnings of the valley, enjoyed night watches, as Arien sank beneath the clouds and there was little fear of attack or ambush. He sighed, looking out from his post and smiling at the sight of lights beginning to prick through the darkness, invisible from outside the valley, but clearly denoting with their fiery flickering the presence of life from his position.

Home.

He hadn't thought he would ever have one again, yet here he was, his heart once again rooted in a settlement that he would give anything to defend. It was quiet, the light winds sweeping off the mountains in just the right direction to bring to his ears the soft sound of singing. If he truly strained himself he could also hear beneath the voices the melody of a harp accompanying them, singing songs likely meant to enlighten those two listeners who had not been there for the events recounted within the chanting.

Just like that Glorfindel's peaceful mood was ruined, a nervous frown crossing his face. Before leaving Valinor once more, one of the very few memories Glorfindel had from that two day period between his rebirth and crossing was of Olórin and Curumo imprinting upon him the reason for his return to Endor;

"The purpose of the Valar is to serve Eru Iluvatar, and part of his commandment is for your return to the east. You must aid where you can and impart the knowledge we have offered you here to those in need" According to the two Maiar, there was always a greater purpose in a rebirth, whether that was retribution, punishment, or completing some task that the Valar deemed only possible through your hands. He had learned in his death not to outwardly doubt their words nor intentions, though inside of himself he was free to question as much as he liked why all powerful beings capable of creating the world which he stood upon would possibly need him to speak their knowledge instead of simply crossing the sea themselves and imparting it.

Instead of easing his confusion over the rebirth of the two firstborn who doubtlessly sat listening to the tales of deeds performed long after they had left the world this only heightened his worry, as the Valar had, seemingly, sent back two of the mightiest in history without any set task nor commandment as to what they were supposed to accomplish before returning to Valinor. He had, of course been overjoyed, astonished, and shocked to see once again the face of his former king and the king's cousin, though neither looked to happy to be back nor to see one another, and Glorfindel couldn't help wondering if perhaps the Valar had made a mistake or if this was some cruel joke to see how long the contentious house of Finwë could last in one another's company before an all consuming battle broke out and blood was spilt.

Bringing Glorfindel back had raised tensions, though why he still wasn't sure he understood. Bringing back two Noldorian Princes both of whom had killed a rather large number of their own over the course of history as well as amassing a virtual army of enemies was surely not the wisest of options. What could possibly have gone so wrong in Middle Earth that this type of action was deemed necessary?