Character: Glorfindel, Elves
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Merely attempting to fill in some of the details Tolkien left out
By paths that narrowed abruptly, winding through rocky cliffs they approached Imladris.
“Good choice” murmured Glorfindel as the track forced them into single file; above them the sky was a strip of pinked clouds. They emerged onto wider swards; he noted with interest the high, semi-circular grassy banks topped by trees.
Thought had gone into their positioning… good cover for archers against a foe that must exit singly… He nodded approvingly, paused a moment, and with practised eyes found the waiting guards hidden by wood and stone.
Then he heard it… laughter. And realised how much he’d missed that sound.
His ‘captors’ were gracious hosts, they provided refreshments, but left two armed warriors outside the room’s door, that not quite a cell… was certainly a place of detention. ‘While we make our report’ they’d said.
Glorfindel lay back on the truckle bed, not tired but composing himself.
How should he explain? Indeed… what could he explain? His mind drifted into reverie. Dreams came, half sought… half to be escaped, too bitter to dwell on… He perceived his thoughts had been joined by another…
What would you here Golden Flower?
Sanctuary… knowledge of what’s passed… fellowship…?
Glorfindel felt a pause…