Bloody silmarils, book I by Dilly

| | |

Chapter 20: Fear

Glorfindel and Rog were having a drink at the Palace Inn, the most exclusive tavern in town. Rog was dressed in red, Glorfindel in green and gold.

"Rog, you know me well," said Glorfindel, drinking his third glass of mead. "You know that I am not a coward, and that on the battlefield there are few who can compete with me for the palm of courage."

Rog nodded.

"However, there are two things in life that terrify me."

The blacksmith frowned.

"The first one, well, that's... philosophy. Eru knows I've never understood anything about it. And when Penlodh and the King start talking about it, I don't know where to stand, I feel like the last of the idiots. The worst thing is when they start asking my opinion. But how can you give your opinion when you haven't even understood the question? I've started to get stomach aches, and I'm not even talking about the cold sweats I feel during their endless discussions, because I'm so afraid they'll question me."

Rog nodded again.

"I see, I don't understand all this intellectual stuff either. But I'm lucky that they don't often invite me to their table, let alone ask my opinion. But what's the second thing you're afraid of, if philosophy is the first?"

Glorfindel looked down.

"I dare not... It's so embarrassing."

"You can tell me anything. It will never get past my ears, you have my word."

"Well... I have a particular phobia... Since Valinor... It's quite old... And quite ridiculous, for someone of my status."

"Tell me."

"I'm afraid of big beasts."

"Big beasts? What do you mean by that?"

Glorfindel's handsome face twisted into an anguished grimace.

"Big monsters, with pincers, hairy legs, membranous wings, horns... Oh Varda, I can't even look them in the face!"

"You mean... you're afraid of balrogs?"

Glorfindel shook his head piteously.

"And of giant spiders?"

"Alas, yes. Just the thought of it can give me a panic attack."

"What about giant squids?"

"Don't bring back bad memories!"

"Vampires?"

"...Yes."

"Is that why you agreed to let Ecthelion go and rescue Orodreth?"

"I admit it. It's despicable of me, isn't it? I'm just a coward. Yet I am not afraid to die, nor to suffer. But when it comes to big, monstrous beasts, it's like I lose control of myself."

 

 

 

Two centuries and a few decades earlier.

 

The tentacles had suddenly emerged from the frozen water, as if looking for a Noldo in an Inuit outfit to consume for their dessert.

Glorfindel, pale as a sheet, had managed to get behind Penlodh, who was taller than him and wore a polar bear skin earmuff.

"I'll take care of it, Father!" Fingon the Valiant suddenly shouted.

Wearing furry boots and a hood, the Prince stepped forward. He began by releasing a few arrows at the submerged part of the beast that he could make out, then drew his sword and began to strike the tentacles. Blood clouded the transparency of the water, and the Monster returned to the depths.

"Bravo my son!" exclaimed the wise Fingolfin, raising his pilgrim's staff. He turned to the crowd and shouted: "And now, my People, let us continue our Great March!"

The column of thousands elves moved and set off again on its Exodus.

 

 

 

 

"Milord, is there anythin' you're afraid of?" Belin the Blond asked the Lord of the Fountain one day, while polishing his shield.

"No. Are you?"

"I confess I'm a little afraid of snakes."

"You are very brave, you know, for someone who had never left his mill."

"Thank you, my lord," the human replied, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, but I'm thinking about it... Yes, there is something that scares me."

"What, my lord?"

But Ecthelion did not answer.

 

 

 

 

"My son Fingon is not afraid of anything, except one," said an unusually cheerful Fingolfin at a banquet in his capital of Barad Eithel.

"Which one, Father?" Fingon asked with a look of both amusement and scepticism.

"Marriage!" Fingolfin replied, looking daggers at him.

 

Table of Contents | Leave a Comment