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A swirl of dust, turning the golden sunlight slanting through the trees reddish as the dust filled the air, and the sudden wind dropped as quickly as it had risen. Two figures stepped out of nothing, blinking at the brilliant sunshine. Warm air enveloped them, overwhelming even in the early morning.
Unclasping his cloak and pulling it off to drape on his arm, the darker of the pair grimaced. “Ugh. It’s hot.”
“Glorious, isn’t it?” Glorfindel reveled in the midday heat, lifting his face to the sun. Long hair tumbled down his back, catching the light and firing as if it was molten gold.
“I always thought those who crossed the ice hated heat.” Erestor moved back into the shade of a tree where it was a few degrees cooler. “Galadriel for one.”
Glorfindel smiled, still basking in the sun, face upturned like the flower his house could have been named for so long ago. “Silver Telperion is her husband, Erestor. “ For a moment his mind was back in Aman, and he could see the silver glow of that tree’s light, softly ghosting across trees and touching water with a glow no artist had ever been able to capture, not even mighty Fëanor. He turned to face Erestor, coming back to his present. “I wish you could have seen them. Laurelin, so bright and fiery you could never look directly at her when she was at her strength, but when she waned and Telperion was waxing …”
Erestor smiled for the soft remembrance on Glorfindel’s face; his mother had also remembered the Trees with great fondness and equal sadness. “The mingling,” he said, gaze going to the glow of the sun as it rose.
Blue eyes focused on Erestor and Glorfindel smiled, moving to stand with him in the shade. “One day, perhaps, when the world is broken and re-made we will see them again.”
The sadness was a part of the oldest Elves but Glorfindel was usually joyous. “What is time to us?”
That brought a smile to Glorfindel’s face which turned to a grimace as he realized the sun was rising steadily and swiftly. “It will be pain if we do not do as we've been bidden.”
Erestor huffed in annoyance, but didn’t disagree. “We seem to be south of Gondor if the temperature and barren lands are any indication.”
Námo had taken to simply depositing them in new places, with no information on where or when they were. This, at least, had the look of their own Arda, without the noise and chaos that was indicative of other worlds.
Glorfindel cocked his head. “Do you hear that?”
He had been examining the trees around them, trying to classify the species which would be a good indication of where they were, but Erestor turned, eyes scanning the horizon. “Hear what?”
Glorfindel knelt and put his hand to the ground. He gestured impatiently for Erestor to do the same. “Listen.”
“Erestor!” The exasperation was all Glorfindel, looking at him with a scowl. “Stop thinking.” Reaching up, Glorfindel grabbed his wrist and tugged him down. "Do you hear it?"
Erestor rolled his eyes and pressed his hand to the ground with exaggeration and looked expectantly at Glorfindel. Yes, his heart beat. Surprising really, considering he had died and gone to Mandos. Erestor didn’t remember being re-embodied, but he supposed that—
"Listen.”
Dark eyes flashed, and Erestor pressed his lips together in annoyance. It was hot and he hated being sweaty and dusty and Glorfindel sometimes would prose on and on about things that had no bearing to the present. Deciding to humor him rather than argue, it was too hot to argue, Erestor closed his eyes. He listened to his breath, in and out, letting that pull his mind inward. Thud. Thud. Blood rushing in, pushed out, steady, strong. The beat of an immortal heart.
And then he heard it, faint, as if worn down by time. The song; so soft, strong still, but slowing. A symphony in the last movements, long past the crescendo, all the more beautiful for the quiet echo of grandeur.
Erestor met Glorfindel’s gaze and saw the knowledge echoed in his eyes. “We are deep in the music.”
A nod and Glorfindel stood. “It still plays.”
And while the music lasted, so too did they. A sigh and he nodded. It did no good to dwell on time or their place in all of it. It just angered Erestor and depressed Glorfindel and that lead to problems with Námo which did neither of them any good. “Can you sense the mark?”
Usually they came in very close to the intended target, but lately Námo had been putting them out farther, and making them work to locate the correct being. It had led to some awkward blunders at first, though thankfully no mistakes. Erestor bet the woman who had come around the corner in that noisy world and suddenly seen them appear out of the shadows would never forget.
Once she was let out of the hospital. He felt bad for giving her such a shock, but really. How was he supposed to know she wasn’t the woman wearing the god-awful hat and dress? Thankfully, Glorfindel had blocked his blade (and that had led to an argument all of its own), and turned him to face all the other women on the street, similarly dressed.
As if he had known there was a royal wedding going on and the hats (fascinators, obviously not named by the Quendi) were the rage.
“It’s a ways from here.” Glorfindel turned and gazed south for a long moment. “Faint, but there. Best start off now.”
In the sweltering heat that was getting worse every minute. A huff, and Erestor threw his cloak on, covering his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
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From the hot, baked plains, they climbed up, using animal trails to find the easiest path around the scrub bushes and outcroppings of rock. When they reached a plateau, they stopped to rest. A tree offered a respite from the heat, though its limbs had few leaves and those had thorns on them.
“Harsh land,” Glorfindel said with a wince, and flicked the offending ant off his hand. He examined the bite with a frown then looked around to see if the creature had more companions. Apparently it had been a scout. “Go home and tell them there are giants in this land,” he grumbled, rubbing at the bite.
“I would kill for a drink of water.” Erestor smirked. “Does that sound pretentious?”
His friend sometimes had a dark turn of mind. “Not when you have the means to do so.”
Pulling his dagger and examining it, Erestor began to toss it, catching it neatly before sending it again to the air. “Just once, I’d love to get the beachside job.” He looked over at Glorfindel who looked perfectly composed in the baking heat, golden hair pulled neatly back in a braid and sighed. Erestor loved the winter, the crisp bite of cool air, and snuggling into soft furs before a roaring fire with a favorite book. He loved oceans and crashing waves, cool breezes wafting across his skin. Catching the dagger and spinning it, he added, “People do die at beach sides.”
“That’s what the sharks are for, Erestor.” Sweet stars, the animal life was coming out of the brush! Glorfindel tossed a rock at a snake that was slithering near to have a better smell of them. “Besides, I believe Ulmo has the direction of beaches and oceans.”
A snort for that, and Erestor caught the dagger and threw it directly in the path of the snake in one smooth move. “No nearer, hiss. We have leave to be here.”
Coiling up, the snake eyed the pair with golden eyes. It stuck out its tongue before heading a different direction. There was easier prey to be found.
Erestor rose to his feet in one graceful move and retrieved his dagger. Wiping it on his pants leg, he sheathed it and sighed. “We’d best be on before Námo sees fit to urge us to speed.”
“Again,” Glorfindel muttered under his breath. Námo’s methods of urging them to speed were not subtle. He stood and brushed the sand off his clothing. “This way.”
Erestor followed, wary of any more animal life stalking them in this dry and hot land.
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They heard the roar of the falls long before they could see the water. The valley that sheltered the falls was shrouded in mist, and was very deep. This was a strong river, full of life and vigor. She had cut deep into the valley floor and greedily continued to eat at the rock ledges lifting her aloft. Glorfindel stayed well back, but Erestor walked to the edge of the drop to gaze down to where, far below, the glint of water could be seen. “Good thing we didn’t try to follow the river up here.” He turned and arched an eyebrow. “Glorfindel?"
“Could you please come away from there?” Glorfindel reached out, grabbed his tunic, and pulled Erestor back from the edge. “You don’t know how stable the cliffs are.”
It was rare that Erestor saw his friend flinch from anything. He could be angered, of course: Injustice, cruelty, those who preyed on children or the weak, but few things had the power to stay Glorfindel.
Even the strongest person had triggers that stirred memory, and called forth things best left undisturbed. Erestor remembered when the stranger had first arrived on the quays of Lindon, with his ancient accented Sindarin, and manners best suited to Ages long past. And the night terrors when Glorfindel would bolt upright, gasping for breath, his mind tangled in memory and yelling at things long gone. Erestor would run from his own room to slowly enter Glorfindel's, and speak his bad, halting Quenya to calm him.
Later Glorfindel had informed him he had never heard such an atrocious accent, and set out to teach him the proper pronunciation. They had argued about history and argued about the motivations of those long-gone and become fast friends even when they disagreed stridently about nearly everything.
Years later, Erestor had seen the wary look as Glorfindel had first approached Imladris’ famous falls and only then had he put the dreams and the fear together to solve the mystery of his friend's past. They had walked the pathways together, Erestor patient as he helped his friend find the beauty in the high places, but memories were odd things for elves. Strong as the day it had been forged, Glorfindel’s memory of a deathly fall had in no way faded, and he had never been entirely at ease near a steep drop.
“Do we continue up?” Erestor waited patiently and enjoyed the roar of the falls and the cooler air.
Heartbeat a bit too fast, Glorfindel took some time to steady himself. Finally he nodded. “We’re near. Watch your footing.”
Erestor nodded his understanding.
They continued upwards, climbing along the canyon wall, and the roar of the falls became something they felt through the ground, shivering through the air. At the top, they looked around but saw only tributaries of the huge river, rushing past islands of rock that sheltered some trees and bushes.
“Do you see anyone?”
Erestor shook his head. “Are you sure we’re in the correct place?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation meant Glorfindel was very sure. A prosaic shrug, and Erestor walked toward the river, but stayed well away. It wouldn’t take much to be swept off the rock ledge and over the falls. That would be problematic to explain to Námo, though doubtless the Vala would laugh in that mocking manner and send him back, memories intact, of course.
“Erestor.” Glorfindel pointed to a distant figure. “Look.”
“What in the….” He shook his head as he watched an Oliphant slowly wade across the swiftly flowing river, intent on reaching one of the islands not far from where the water rushed over the edge to plunge down into the valley. “Insane creature.”
Glorfindel grinned. “The bushes on that island must be enticing indeed.” A strange look came over his face. “Oh..."
He’d seen an Oliphant, once before. Elrond had sent Erestor to Harad long ago to settle a trading embargo that was keeping the coffee and silk from being brought into Eriador. The enormous animals had roamed the plains far outside the Haradhrim encampment, grazing on entire trees and whatever other greenery they found. Erestor had always wondered why they didn’t die from starvation, but he’d never gotten an answer. Only the swift, secretive smiles that had so characterized the people of that region.
“That one bush isn’t going to be much of a me… Glorfindel, what’s wrong?”
Glorfindel sighed as he stared at the massive creature. “That, my friend, is our mark.”
Erestor’s eyebrows rose sharply. “An Oliphant. Be serious!”
The grim smile was answer enough.
“But…how? It’s huge! And why? It’s an animal!”
Glorfindel shook his head. “Maybe it’s too stubborn to understand its time has come? Or …” He watched the Oliphant, noting it kept gazing at the falls then flapped its ears before going back to plucking at the tree. It happened. Sometimes. Without fail, it saddened him. To see the knowledge of one’s own death…yes, he understood that. To fear it? That was natural. He’d never considered that perhaps an animal would have a similar predicament. “I think the foolish creature has gone out there and now realizes its time has come.”
“And won’t move.” Erestor watched the animal grow increasingly agitated. “We can’t leave it there.”
Stars. Glorfindel hated this sort of thing. With a cold blooded murderer it was straightforward. Strike quickly; take them out before they could hurt anyone else. The very old often welcomed death as a respite from a long, weary life and giving them that mercy was not so difficult. Some were indifferent, inwardly dead long before Mandos claimed them. He had no nightmares of those dead gazes. Their bodies had simply kept going when the spark had long fled. Being the weapons of the Doomsman was not a job anyone envied, but without death the mortal world would be chaos.
Glorfindel pulled his sword, the blade making a ringing sound as it cleared the scabbard. He rarely drew it. Death was supposed to be intimate, up-close. A dagger’s kiss farewell, not the cold bite of a sword. “A smaller blade isn’t going to do here.” Erestor looked at him, and Glorfindel had a sudden thought. “I don’t suppose we could induce the creature to cross the river again?”
“To what gain?” Erestor tossed his cloak aside. “No river is going to sweep that thing off its feet.”
“Actually so we don’t have to cross.”
“Ah.” Dark hair fell in his eyes and Erestor swept it back with a wry grin. “I wonder if a song of green trees and juicy plants would tempt it over here?” Such a thing was rare in the hot, dry land. It was, they decided, worth a try. Erestor hid in a clump of bushes and began to sing, hoping his song would carry over the sound of the river. When the Oliphant simply ignored them, Glorfindel ran out and waved his arms, taunting the creature.
Erestor huffed in exasperation and stood, ready to help. Of all the mad things his friend had done…
The Oliphant looked at the elf, beady eyes fixing on the small thing darting back and forth along the river bank. Raising its trunk it trumpeted at the intruder and shook its head.
It didn’t frighten the stupid small thing away.
Sweeping its head to the side, the Oliphant leveled its trunk and rumbled, ears flapping. It turned and faced the bank, weaving its head back and forth, still rumbling. When the stupid small thing didn’t leave, it charged, trunk raised in challenge.
“'Ware!” Erestor started forward as the Oliphant charged across the river, straight for Glorfindel.
Well, that worked, Glorfindel thought as the ground shook and the Oliphant filled his view. Instinct took over and he grabbed a massive tusk as the animal lowered its head in a charge. The Oliphant tossed its head to dislodge him, and Glorfindel let that momentum fly him up over the creature’s head. He dropped to the broad back and clung, feeling a bit like a flea on a dog.
“Here, you great oaf!” Erestor waved his arms, attracting the creature’s attention. As it charged him, he drew his dagger and darted to the side at the last minute, rushing for the nearest leg.
If they had actually planned the attack it couldn’t have gone better. Erestor leaped up, slicing the dagger across the creature’s leg as Glorfindel stood and plunged his sword into the soft spot just behind the skull.
The Oliphant staggered one step, then two before slowly sinking down, eyes unfocussed. The ground shook as the bulk of its body settled.
Erestor watched Glorfindel leap to the ground and hesitate. He walked closer to stroke the animal’s massive head. A few quiet words, too quiet even for Erestor to catch, and Glorfindel raised the sword. It flashed blue and a sphere rose from the creature, glowing brighter than the sun above them. It hung in air for a moment before Glorfindel made a quick gesture and brought his hands down.
The sphere flashed once, and the echo of a joyous bugle filled the air before the light slowly faded.
Leaving the two elves to stare in wonderment at the massive body of the Oliphant.
Erestor walked over and quietly asked, “Are you all right?”
After a long moment Glorfindel nodded and stroked the enormous ivory tusk, marveling at the long life of the animal. “He was old, far from his herd but uncertain how to let go.”
Erestor put a hand on the giant head. “Not so different from anyone else.”
“No.” Glorfindel sighed. “Let’s go.” They were being pulled elsewhere.
The two elves disappeared much as they had appeared, a rift of black opening up to engulf them, leaving only swirling dust behind.
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I'd love to credit the photographer, if anyone knows who it is. Thank you for reading ♥