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“It was in a cold winter early in the Second Age when the white wolf came to Lindon. The beast was a sneaky creature, and his white pelt helped him blend into the thick snowfall and the bright marble of the buildings as he snuck his way through the city. Brushing his long tail against the ground, he crept past the palace gatekeeper when the young elf’s back was turned, and gained entrance. You may have thought that such a creature would make for the King’s residence, thus to cause havoc; but this wolf was sly, and smarter than most. He made his careful way through the thick snow to the servants’ quarters, and stole in through one of the wide doorways to the room of a small child.
“Fear not; the wolf did not eat the child. Nor did he harm the boy; he simply stole him away under the cover of darkness, and when the child’s parents entered his room the next morning, they found wet paw prints staining the carpet.
“A hue and cry was raised, but there was no trace of wolf or boy. The boy’s father, a shoemaker at the palace, went before the King and beseeched him to send out a party to rescue the boy.
“Now, as you know, the King of this time was Gil-Galad himself. As noble and selfless as he was, the King determined that he would ride out to find the child, but his council protested against his decision. After a long day of arguing, the King returned to the poor shoemaker. ‘Alas, I cannot go myself to save your son,’ he told the man, ‘but there is another who will.’ And the King called one of his brave knights, the noble Glorfindel – who, of course, you well know – into his company, and asked of him that he might go forth to rescue the child.
“’I will do as you ask of me, sire,’ Glorfindel replied, ‘But I am only newly returned from the land of the Valar, and I do not know my way in the vast lands that lie beyond the borders of the city, where the beast has surely fled. Will you permit me to take another, to aid me in my quest?’
“Gil-Galad agreed to this, on the condition that Glorfindel would find someone who would be willing to leave right away. Though he had only been here a short time, Glorfindel knew exactly who he would ask.”
~~~
A strong winter wind was blowing that day, whistling through the stonework far above their heads, but the covered walkway was sheltered. It was still bitterly cold, however; the smooth stone floor under their feet wore a thin sheen of hoarfrost, and icicles glittered from where they hung on the lip of the roof.
“I’m sorry to be late,” Erestor pulled his thick cloak tighter around him. “Could we really not have met inside?”
“More secluded out here,” Glorfindel shrugged. He was leaning on one of the pillars, looking out over the snowy gardens.
“You’re trying to be secretive?”
“It’s quieter out here. Easier to think deeper thoughts.”
Erestor snorted. “You are always able to think to the appropriate level about whatever you put your mind to, or so I have observed. Why should you need any aid?”
“I am not the one who is going to be thinking,” Glorfindel turned and folded his arms, looking at him seriously.
Erestor frowned just slightly, but his eyes were alight with interest. “I see. Say on; you have my interest now.”
Glorfindel motioned with a nod of his head to towards the outside world. “I know you have spent a long time on travels with your cousin in the countryside outside the city.”
“Looking for the perfect place to create his new settlement, yes.”
“So you know the land well.”
Erestor smiled slightly. “I thought you weren’t trying to be secretive?”
Glorfindel didn’t look amused; he was staring out at the snow. “The child that was taken two days ago.”
The humour dropped from Erestor’s face all at once. “They found him?”
“No. I am to find him. And from the way I see it, he will have been taken to the wilds, far away from elven or human contact.” Glorfindel turned to look back at Erestor, his face serious.
He didn’t need to explain further. “You want me to come with you.”
“Will you?”
Erestor frowned. Glorfindel was looking at him seriously, and he obviously wasn’t going to wait for an answer. “I would, but Glorfindel, now that Gil-Galad has named me his castellan…”
“I understand. But…” Glorfindel hesitated slightly, and for the first time during the exchange looked slightly unsure. “I don’t know many people here. What I need is someone with a good knowledge of the land, who is also warrior enough to fight by my side should things go ill; someone who can survive out there.”
Erestor looked away, thinking. “I would suggest you take my cousin, but we both know how that would end.” He chuckled lightly at the repulsed expression that flitted over Glorfindel’s face. “And I would say Elrond, but he has little experience yet with the wilds in winter…” Erestor sighed. “I could suggest half a hundred others, but none would satisfy me completely.”
“If you want something doing, you’re best to do it yourself,” Glorfindel pointed out, a slight smile pulling at his lips.
Erestor’s mouth twisted slightly. “As you say. Well, then, I suppose it’s settled. Has Ereinion given you leave to ask me?”
Glorfindel’s lips twitched in a slight smirk. “He said I may take whomever I choose, provided they be ready to leave today.”
Erestor sighed in affected exasperation. “I suspect he did not mean that so literally; but I will leave you to argue that with him. We will leave today, you said?”
“As soon as you can pack your bags. I have everything I need.”
“Hmm,” Erestor shook his head slightly, “I’ll be the judge of that. I am to be the expert and guide to the wilds, after all.”
Glorfindel smiled, and stepped forward. They shook hands lightly. “You check our luggage,” he grinned, “and I will tell Gil-Galad we mean to leave.”
Erestor smiled wryly. “I never knew you had it in you. Be at the gate in an hour.”
~~~
“The two set out on their journey at the stroke of midday, though the sky was clouded and there was no sun, so it was hard to tell. The King had been loath to let his castellan go, but he had honoured Glorfindel’s request.
“The snow was deep and the wind was cold, but they had thick cloaks and clothes to keep them warm. They rode for two days quite alone, until one day they came to a crossroads deep within the woods. Though Erestor knew the wilds well, he had no idea which way the wolf had turned; they were at a lost until they espied the figure of a wizened old woman walking towards them out of the snow.
“’Let us ask this woman if she has seen the wolf,’ Glorfindel proposed, ‘Surely a wolf in company with a boy would be hard to forget.’
“They did as he proposed, and asked the old woman about the wolf. ‘I saw him,’ the old woman replied, ‘I hid behind a tree at his coming, as I saw he was a fierce creature. He took the boy and turned toward the North.’ She pointed with one wrinkled old finger toward the road that led north.
“’Thank you, my lady,’ they said to her, and continued on their way.”
~~~
The snow was deep on the ground where no one had passed, and the silence around them was complete and unsettling. On the road ahead, though, clear tracks had been left, and they were easy to follow. “The old woman was right,” Glorfindel murmured as Erestor examined them, “They did come this way.”
Erestor straightened and looked along the road. “These trees are the perfect place for an ambush,” he said quietly.
“We can only be wary,” Glorfindel said, also looking around with unease.
Erestor nodded as he swung back onto his horse. “The road is the only viable way through the forest,” he said, spurring his horse onward, “In summer we might ride under the trees, but we would never catch them with all this snow.”
Glorfindel looked around as he followed, and laid a hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. The silence around them was eerie, and seemed to speak of darker things waiting just out of sight. “Have you often come to the forests in winter?” he asked, glancing up at the long boughs that met and touched above their heads, swaying silently with the weight of the snow.
“Not usually out of choice,” Erestor answered. “The wood is not so hospitable in wintertime; the hearth looks more inviting. Elves may not feel the cold as keenly as Men, but I surely prefer the sunlight.”
“And I,” Glorfindel agreed, “I do not feel like I am about to be ambushed sitting around the hearth fire.”
Erestor smiled slightly. “The snow has that effect,” he nodded, “It’s the silence. Even when not on a mission of pursuit, the woods can feel uninviting.”
“I take it you have been out here many times.”
“Unfortunately. When things were not as peaceful as they are now, it was always a good thing to be prepared for all eventualities.” Erestor turned his head to smile at him. “You would know, of course.”
Glorfindel looked down slightly. “We spent a lot time in wandering, it is true. But the world was different then.”
Erestor sighed. “Very different.”
~~~
“When they had been travelling for four days, they came again upon a stranger. This elf was a travelling minstrel, garbed in bright clothing which he covered with a thick brown cloak. A small lyre hung at his side, and he bowed graciously when they approached, and greeted them pleasantly.
“They determined that they would ask him of the wolf, and at this his bright smile became troubled. ‘I saw him,’ the young man said, ‘I hid behind a tree at his coming, as I saw he was a fierce creature. He took the boy and turned to follow the stream you will find just yonder.’
“They thanked the young minstrel and kept moving, turning to follow the stream. They filled their water skins from the water of the stream, which was so cold it almost froze their throats. The woods were calm and quiet, and they saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Presently they came to the foothills of a mountain, and again found themselves with two paths to choose between. At this moment came a cat ambling along the road, and upon seeing them there with no idea which way to turn, the cat laughed to himself. ‘I can tell you which way to turn,’ he told them, ‘For a price, of course.’
“’Name your price, feline,’ Glorfindel told him, ‘If you have seen the wolf, tell us where to find him’.
“’Oh, I saw him,’ the cat smiled, ‘I hid behind a tree at his coming, as I saw he was a fierce creature. Tell me, what would you give me to know which way he took the boy?’
“’Whatever you ask,’ Erestor told the cat, who promptly leapt up to sit on the pommel of his saddle.
“’I ask one lock of hair, only,’ the cat purred. Confused, Erestor took a knife from his boot and cut the cat one lock of his thick black hair, which the cat held firmly in one paw. ‘For this, I thank you,’ the cat said graciously, ‘and I tell you that the wolf took the boy up the steeper path, the path that leads to the mountain’.
“And with that the cat sprung from the saddle and somersaulted backwards, and was suddenly a Man. He bowed to them and said, ‘And thus, my work is done,’ and disappeared away into the trees.”
~~~
They made camp in a small hollow the wind and rain had carved into the rock. It could barely be called a cave and the protection was minimal, but it was better than nothing. The small fire Erestor had managed to coax to life guttered in the wind, even as Glorfindel moved around the fire in an attempt to act as a windbreak. “It’s colder over there,” Erestor told him absently, focusing more of his attention on the fire.
“Even I know that,” Glorfindel muttered, pulling a blanket around his shoulders. “Only trying to help.”
Erestor glanced up and grinned at him. “I’m not the world’s expert on surviving in the wild, you know. You don’t need to impress me.”
Glorfindel looked away, frowning. “Just trying not to be a burden.”
Erestor shook his head, slightly exasperated. “You’re not a burden, Glorfindel. You aren’t incompetent.”
“Is it really alright to wait another day before continuing?” Glorfindel asked, changing the subject.
Erestor sat back on his heels. “If the boy isn’t dead yet, then one more day won’t make much difference, I don’t think. Besides, the night is foul, and it would not be wise to travel onward. They have probably also taken shelter up ahead.”
“You’re sure they came this way?”
Erestor shrugged. “The mountains seem like a logical hide out, don’t they?” He smiled gently. “Don’t worry yourself, Glorfindel. We will find this child.”
“I wish I shared your optimism,” Glorfindel sighed.
“Well, failing that, come here and share this bread. It’s far too cold for you to be sitting on the edge of the cave tonight.”
~~~
“When our travellers reached the top of the mountain, they came upon a large boulder, weathered and crooked and covered with lichen. It was here that they met the white wolf. ‘Where is the child?’ they demanded of him.
“’I took the child in the hope that the King would ride out after him, and I would feast on royal flesh,’ the wolf replied, ‘But instead I see he is too cowardly to face long weeks in the woods. Since it is so, the child will have to suffice as my meal’. And the wolf leapt over the boulder, and was gone.
“Erestor and Glorfindel were unable to follow him; but they came upon another set of tracks that led them by a longer route to his hiding place. Just as they arrived, they saw the wolf open his large slathering jaws and swallow the small child whole. Incensed, Glorfindel insisted they should slay the wolf then and there for his crime; but Erestor convinced him to wait until nightfall.
“When the wolf lay asleep in his cave, content and full from his meal, Erestor snuck up to him and cut open his belly, thus freeing the child trapped inside. Erestor re-filled the wolf’s stomach with heavy stones before sewing it up again. The next morning they watched from the bushes as the wolf went out to the clear mountain lake just below his cave. He walked with bowed legs, weighed down by the stones inside him; and when he leaned over the water to drink, he lost his balance and tumbled head-first into the water.
“They then conveyed the child safely home with them, and the city rejoiced at his safe return.”
~~~
“And they all lived happily ever after, of course,” Erestor assured his two young listeners, who were sitting up against their pillows, listening with rapt attention.
“But, but,” Elrohir looked troubled, “what about you and Glorfindel?”
“They got married and lived happily ever after, obviously,” Elladan sniffed, looking over at his twin with disdain. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Now, Elladan, don’t be rude,” Erestor chided, standing from the seat he had placed in-between the boy’s beds and leaning over to blow out their candle. “But you are right, of course,” he added, smiling at them both in the faint moonlight that now illuminated the room.
“Course I am,” Elladan muttered, laying his head on his pillow and pulling his thick blanket over his small head.
When Erestor shut the door, he found their father outside, making a face at him. “You do tell them rather grisly fairytales,” he said in answer to Erestor’s questioning expression.
Erestor laughed as he walked down the corridor and Elrond fell into step beside him. “Maglor used to tell you those same stories, you know,” he pointed out.
“I was older then.”
“Only slightly.” Erestor turned to give Elrond a smile before leaving down the corridor that would take him to his own room. “Many of the tales parents tell today have been watered down from the original versions, you know.”
“You would know better.”
Erestor feigned affront. “Is that a reference to my age? How rude you are.”
Elrond shook his head exasperatedly. “Good night, Erestor.”
Erestor laughed as he walked away down the corridor. “Good night, dear friend.”
~~~
The Golden Hall was lively and noisy, full to the brim with all those who had returned once news of the Shadow’s defeat had spread as far as Helm’s Deep. A drinking game was well underway off on one of the side tables, and the central tables had been pushed back to give revellers room to dance. A number of bards had gathered in a corner, accompanying each other as they sung ballads of the great heroes of Rohan.
“There will be songs for a new generation of heroes now,” Elladan commented as he watched them. He had sought Erestor out among the throng, claiming to be tired of the speech of Men and needing an ear to understand his Elvish and a tongue to reply in kind. Erestor would have asked what happened to his brother, but he thought he could guess the answer.
“I never liked the songs they composed about me,” Glorfindel muttered, staring into the mug of mead he had been nursing for the past hour. “Too depressing.”
Erestor elbowed him in the ribs. “Hush,” he chided, “You like them as well as anybody.”
“I don’t want to be immodest,” Glorfindel argued, “How could I ever ask for a song about me without seeming big-headed?”
“That’s not actually the issue we started this conversation with,” Erestor pointed out.
“The mead isn’t even that strong,” Elladan laughed.
Glorfindel muttered something irritatedly, but Erestor ignored him. They sat in silence for a while, before Elladan laughed suddenly and said, “Those tales make me think of all those fairytales you used to tell ‘Roh and me when we were children, Erestor.”
“Hmm,” Erestor tapped one finger against his closed mouth musingly. “That was fun. Fairytales are easy to tell.”
“You used to add people we knew into them though,” Elladan looked confused, “Didn’t you make them up?”
Erestor shook his head. “Mostly I made people you would know the characters in traditional fairytales. Sometimes, though, I made them allegories for things that took place in real life, too.”
Elladan looked intrigued. “Which were those?”
Erestor paused for a moment to think. “The one about the white wolf is the most obvious. You used to ask for that one all the time, do you remember?”
Elladan laughed. “Every other night, wasn’t it?”
Erestor shook his head, chuckling. “In reality, Glorfindel and I did indeed go out into the wilderness to rescue a child. You remember that, don’t you, Glorfindel?”
Glorfindel smiled lightly. “How could I forget? Two weeks in the freezing cold chasing bandits and dealing with you telling me off for getting lost.”
“Bandits?” Elladan queried.
“Well, wolves are more fantastical than bandits, for a children’s story,” Erestor laughed. “And the child was the son of a nobleman, not a shoemaker. But it increases the King’s nobility, doesn’t it, to have him so concerned for a shoemaker’s son.”
“And who would hold a shoemaker’s son to ransom outside of a fairy story?” Glorfindel added.
“Poor bandits?” Elladan suggested.
Glorfindel snorted. “Maybe. But these also intended to kill the King, if he came after them.”
“But what about cutting open the belly of the wolf and exchanging the child for stones?” Elladan asked.
“Ah,” Erestor nodded, “That was based both on real life and another, older fairytale I was once told. We confronted the bandits, as ‘we’ did in the story, but they turned and disappeared into the woods. I guessed they were making for the lake near the top of the mountain, and we came around by another path. In reality, we arrived earlier than the party with the boy, and came upon their reinforcements hiding at their camp. When we had dispatched them, we stuffed rocks into their clothes and sunk them in the lake; and when the first party arrived, we took them by surprise and overwhelmed them, and rescued the child.”
“There must not have been many bandits,” Elladan said.
“Are you questioning my ability to kill bandits?” Glorfindel asked sharply.
Erestor ignored him again. “Three snuck into the palace to steal him, and left four at their camp in the mountains. In hindsight we might have been better to take another companion, but it worked out in the end.”
“And the talking cat?” Elladan laughed. “I imagine that wasn’t real.”
Erestor shook his head, smiling. “He wasn’t, no, but the minstrel and the old woman existed, and helped us on our way. Instead of a cat, I examined the two paths and found prints on the one leading to the mountain. It was a gamble, but it seemed likely they would hide somewhere secluded.”
“And the somersaulting backwards?”
“Based on another fairytale. I don’t think I ever told you that one, though; it was very old by the time I was telling you tales. Most have forgotten it, I believe.”
“And after our adventure we rode back to the palace and got hitched, and lived happily ever after,” Glorfindel announced, chuckling.
Erestor swatted him on the shoulder affectionately. “Eventually, yes, but not straight away. You had to wait a little longer than that to have my hand.”
“And every day was a torture, and every night I was struck sleepless for my sorrow,” Glorfindel said dramatically, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.
Elladan sniggered, and Erestor sighed with affectionate exasperation. “Sometimes I wonder why I said yes,” he sighed.
“Who told you the stories originally?” Elladan asked.
“They were told to me when I was a very young child,” Erestor replied, smiling secretively.
~~~
Deep snow had fallen earlier that morning; the blanket of white covered the ground thickly, and small thoroughfares had had to be dug through the drifts to allow easy movement around the camp. Many were moving about in daily tasks, most cursing the bad weather, though the sky was now clear and bright blue in patches.
Two young elves had snuck away from the main body of the tents, and were out in what had once been a grassy field just beyond. The whole landscape was buried under the snow now, and it was the perfect opportunity for a snowball fight.
Erestor was quicker, but Celebrimbor had better aim. They exhausted themselves running wildly around the field, and when the game became boring they built two snow-forts from behind which they bombarded each other again.
Celebrimbor had just scored another snowball right to Erestor’s face and the sky was beginning to darken when they heard a voice calling their names. They looked up, and then ran down the hill together into the open arms of their uncle.
“Two cold very cold elflings,” Maglor laughed affectionately, brushing snow from their hair. “You gave your fathers quite a turn, disappearing this morning.”
“We’ve been out here all day!” Erestor proclaimed, beaming.
“I know, child. Turko saw you up here this morning.” Maglor put his arms around both their shoulders and began to walk back down the hill with them towards the camp. “Now, you should change out of those clothes and come around the fire.”
“Will you tell us a story?” Erestor asked eagerly.
Maglor laughed. “If you like. I can guess which you want to hear.”
“The Firebird!” Erestor crowed.
“And is that acceptable to you, Telpe?” Maglor asked, turning to the slightly older child. Celebrimbor nodded vigorously, though he said nothing. “Alright. The Firebird it is. Now, let’s hurry.”
The walk was short, and they changed clothes quickly, and soon were tucked up around the fire. Maglor sat himself in between them, and cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, in the lands far north of here where there is often snow on the ground all year round, there lived a King with a magnificent castle; and in the garden of that castle there was a tree with beautiful golden apples. And every night, one would go missing…”