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Edhellond Anniversary Drabbles
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Disclaimer: All places and persons belong to Professor Tolkien whom I greatly admire. This was written for the simple joy of writing. No copyright infringement intended, no money made.
Rating: General, suitable for all.
Series: Flickers On the Water
Archiving: my website and Edhellond. Everyone else: please, ask first.
Summary: Glorfindel tries to get used to his new body. Triple-drabble, exactly 300 words.

Dedication: to Makamu, for Edhellond's 5th anniversary.

Beta read by Tolkanonms, thanks!


There had been no time in the Halls of Mandos, no dreams, no hope. Just fire and darkness and remembered pain. Memories of his own folly, of a path chosen wrongly, albeit for the right reasons. For how could friendship and faithfulness have been wrong? Ecthelion had been his shieldbrother since the Days of Awakening, and if Ecthelion decided to follow the rebellious children of his old friend back to Middle-earth, Glorfindel could not stay behind. Not even if he risked the wrath of the Valar with his actions.

If that were folly, he had certainly paid for it. With a heart broken by unrequited love for a girl who could have been his great-granddaughter. With a brutal death in the fire of the demon he dragged down with him in the end.

And now, here he was, freed from the Halls again, resting in Irmo’s garden, clad in new flesh that felt familiar and yet strange at the same time. He was still Glorfindel, the gold-tressed Lord of the House of the Golden Flower – and yet he was not. Not entirely. His memories of old were still there, yet blurred, as if he were looking at them from a far-away, foreign place. His body was the same, yet entirely new: stronger, faster somehow. It was a most peculiar feeling, as if he had been profoundly changed in a manner that he could not even begin to fathom.

“You are correct,” the disembodied voice of Irmo, Lord of the Dreams said in his mind. “You have been changed, in a way no other rehoused Elf has been before or will be in the future. You have been chosen to perform great tasks in Middle-earth: to lead and tutor and fight and guard. Rest now. You will be called soon enough.”

~The End~


This vignette is a side product to my still unfinished Glorfindel story, “A Tale of Never-ending Love”.


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