The Hero's Journey 4 by hennethgalad

Chapter 4

Read Chapter 4

Matryoshka Challenge. Prompt 4

 

the hero faces down a fear - and fails.

 

The Hero's Journey 4.

 

 Glorfindel's sister looked at them in astonishment when they returned, she immediately sent Celegorm to wash and change. When Glorfindel had explained himself, she set him to chopping onions. They worked in silence for a while, she did not even sing, and Glorfindel felt her disappointment, though he did not see what else he could have done. Finally, hurt by what he saw as her lack of support, he changed the unspoken subject.

 'Does every recipe use onions ? You do seem to always be chopping them up.'

She paused in her stirring and tilted her head thoughtfully 

 'You may be right, I cannot think of a savoury dish without onions. There are meals, as it were, that do not contain them, but any kind of soup, stew, sauce...' she paused 'No, then, I would say not. Onions are in everything. ' 

 Glorfindel sighed and peeled the next onion. His sister moved the pan to the back of the range and washed her hands. He chopped in silence and did not look up as she moved about the kitchen. But moments later a tall goblet of his favourite wine appeared on the table in front of him. He paused and looked up at her kind face, her sympathetic smile warmed his heart.

 

'We may be unusually lucky in our parents, brother, or he may be unusually unlucky in his. Though I suspect it is a little of both. Be kind to him, there is something of his mother in him also, and it may be that she has sent him to us to remind him of that.'

 Glorfindel was about to tell her of his insight into the life of trees when Celegorm entered, carrying himself with the strutting lurch of the self-righteous but guilty.

 

'I apologise for any inconvenience I may have caused.' he said formally. Glorfindel's sister smilingly held out some wine and gestured to a seat at the table.

 'On the contrary' she said 'You have been most helpful, Glorfindel has been chopping onions for me. Indeed, if you yourself would also chop onions, that would be even more helpful.'

 Thus it was that for the first time in his life, Celegorm son of Fëanor, grandson of Finwë the king of the Noldor, first chopped an onion.

 

 She brought her knife and chopping board and joined them at the table, chatting gaily about food, and asking Celegorm about his favourite dishes. The wine, the homely topic of conversation, and the welcoming kitchen, soon had them breathing calmly and smiling spontaneously, though they had yet to smile at each other. Celegorm lifted his freshly refilled glass to her

 'I drink to you, and wonder why you do not come to Tirion, to be toasted by all ?' 

She blushed and smiled with lowered eyelids, but her face was pale beneath. Celegorm looked questioningly at Glorfindel, who shrugged. He had never imagined his sister even wanting to leave the farm, let alone wondered why she had not. He looked closely at her, the red had gone from her cheeks, if he had not known her better he would have thought her afraid.

 She looked from one to the other and sighed

 'I have thought of Tirion, but in truth, I am afraid. I do not even enjoy the small gatherings we have here, the mere idea of the swarms in the city fills me with unease... I fear the crowd.'

 

 Celegorm nodded slowly 'I understand your distaste. I myself prefer the quiet of the forest. But we all have our fears; my chief fear is of my own father, not for his great anger, but for the swiftness with which his temper changes, and the unpredictability of his mood. He will smile upon us at one monent, and snarl at us in the next, and the slightest of trivia can send him into a rage. In that regard, I am relieved to be beyond his reach.' he drank deeply, his face and posture a strange blend of haughtiness and anxiety. 

 Glorfindel's sister looked at him and he realized that it was his turn to reveal his fear. He pursed his lips and looked doubtfully at Celegorm, then sighed.

 

'I fear the darkness.' he said quietly. Celegorm was about to laugh, but caught the stern eye of Glorfindel's sister, and frowned thoughtfully. Finally he said

 'Do you not love the starlight of Alqualondë then ?'

Glorfindel shook his head 'I have never seen it. I fear the very thought of leaving the Light.'

Celegorm looked at him in astonishment, then turned to his sister, who smiled ruefully.

 'It is true, he will not accompany us when we visit the haven, he has never seen the sea.'

Celegorm shook his head 'But Glorfindel, you must see the beaches strewn with pearls, the rock pools filled with bright jewels, the light of the stars on the water, the great sweep of the horizon...' he gestured as the words failed his excitement. Glorfindel looked at the shining eyes in surprise, and smiled warmly at Celegorm 

 'It sounds beautiful when you speak of it so, but how are you able to see the gems without the Light ?'

 Celegorm drew in a breath and paused, then sipped his wine. 'Well... The Light is there, through the Calacirya, but when both Trees wane and only the stars shine, then no, we cannot see the gems in the water. But Glorfindel, you must experience the sea, it is... it is far more than  merely a beautiful sight, it is a strange, familiar scent, it is a great roar of sound, it is a pulse felt through the whole body, it is the taste of salt and strange creatures in the spray from the silver foam, it is so vast that it humbles the mind, so indifferent to our concerns that it renders them insignificant. You must come with me to Alqualondë, you can stay with my family and I will show you the home of Ulmo.'

 

 Glorfindel opened and closed his mouth, but shook his head. He looked at his sister, who shrugged.

 'Glorfindel, you know that it would be wise to face your fear, but since I cannot bring myself to visit Tirion, I cannot mock you for keeping away from the darkness. But consider this, my brother, while we cower on our little farm, far from our fears, Celegorm must return to face his fear, not only in his own city, not only in his own home, but in his own heart, in the person of his father.'