A Midsummer Night’s Gift – Glorfindel meets Asfaloth

by May 24, 2002Stories

I was nine and one hundred years when he was given to me. I can’t believe I survived even that long without him.

I remember everything. From the flowers that grew nearby to the air that surounded us.

It was Midsummer’s Eve, and I had just returned from Lorien and in fairly foul humor.

Acting as a courier for Elrond was a tedious job, but as his most trusted friend and closest advisor, I could not complain.

When I arrived back in Imladris, however, he was waiting outside the gates.

I looked at him slightly confused.

‘My lord, thou looks distressed, pray tell what has made thee in bad humour.’

He did not look as if he had understood my words, but. . he was looking at me. . as if exaimining me.

‘You are wise,’ he finally spoke. ‘You think so?’

He surprised me.

‘No,’ I said softly. I didn’t want to counter his words, but I wasn’t about to lie.

‘Perhaps one day I shall be,’

‘You know much.’ he stated again after another pause.

I thought.

‘Not everything.’ I replied.

He was expressionless.

‘I trust you with the life of my family and that of my own.’

I wondered.

‘My only request is that you bequeth my trust in return.’

I replied softly.

Elrond looked at me once again, as if looking deep into the depths of my soul.

‘You have suffered much.’

‘I have learned much.’

Elrond smiled faintly.

‘And how have you been rewarded?’

‘Life has been given to me.’

Elrond paused.

I wondered what these inquiries meant.

He then asked me another question.

‘You are alone in the world.’

I paused.


My voice was perhaps too soft.

Elrond looked into my eyes, his eyes were gentle, and his expression soft.

He turned away into the trees.

As I went to put my steed back in the stables, Elrond met me before I could enter.

He walked beside a white, so pure and soft I took it as his own, and prepared to move out of the way.

‘No, Glorfindel.’

I stopped.

‘He is Asfaloth, bred in Lothlorien and brought to Imladris for my lord herald.’

I gave him an odd look.

‘Pardon, lord. But thou does not have a herald.’

Elrond paused.

‘You are alone no longer, Lord Glorfindel.’

I gaped.

‘Asfaloth is your brother. Through years of trust, you will guide each other through shadow and comfort another through grief.’

Asfaloth cantored over to me, and sniffed me curiously.

I gave him a cautious pat on the nose and looked confused at Lord Elrond.

‘Such a sacred trust you give me so willingly?’

Elrond laughed.

‘Not I that gives you the trust, but you. And Asfaloth.’


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