Wardens

Prologue

Some would say you can't trust a Vala. When a being is incomprehensibly more powerful then you are, how can anything they have to say to you make sense? Why should a Vala care for the citizens of Middle Earth? Perhaps it was the fact that they did care that made it compelling. Perhaps that's why I felt it was acceptable to ask to leave their domain. Maybe I hadn't spent a long enough time in the Halls of Mandos, maybe I hadn't forgotten enough, or maybe I'd forgotten too much. I missed Middle Earth. I didn't believe in peace. An age of war had shaped me.

I don't know if the Valar can read minds, but I assume they can, which is why I didn't feel the need to explain myself overmuch to the Lord of the Dead. Whatever he saw in my mind, he didn't question my request, he simply told me to wait. So wait I did. There were others of my people in Valinor, but they were happy here. Why wouldn't they be? It was beautiful. No decay, no strife, paradise. It was driving me mad. If I spoke my thoughts to others, they would look at me like I was crazy. How could I be unhappy here? In the now distant past others were unhappy here. It galled me to think I had any similarities with the murderous Noldor. I was going mad.

I could have sought healing in the gardens of Lorien, by the hand of Este, but something held me back. I didn't want to be healed. I didn't want to let go. My pain made me who I was. So it was when the opportunity came to return to Middle Earth I took it. It was now the Second Age. Over a thousand years since I had left. There was a ship being sent East across the sea with a messenger and aide to Middle Earth. All heard of it's planned departure. I would have stepped forward to ask to be on this ship but a Maia of Mandos reached me first with an invitation.

The day the ship left was cloudy and rainy, in the sweet, refreshing way that it rained in Valinor. I was in poor company, with the mariners on the ship, and the special aide as my fellows. At least he was a warrior, though one that viewed war only as a means to an end. The voyage was a blur to me, so much was my anticipation to return to the land of my birth. I knew it would be much changed, but I would find a place for myself. Only one part is still crystal clear in my mind, when the ship passed over what used to be Beleriand. I was leaning over the railing, peering into the deeps, trying to picture what it used to be. Tears fell from my eyes into the water. Grief for all that was lost. For what would never be again.

A strong presence came alongside me.

"Dropping vain tears into the thankless sea?" The aide asked. They said he was Noldo, though he was golden as any Vanyar.

I looked at him in question and he shook his head. "Never mind."

"Not vain, I hope, and no more thankless then the rain." I replied.

He smiled.

A mariner called from high on the ropes, "Lord Glorfindel, the Gulf of Lune is in sight."

We looked to the East and the first signs of land, my heart quickening.

I wanted this.