By the time that Glorfindel made it to the Dinning Hall he was in a daze and felt as if he was sick. Even with the cheerful atmosphere in the room, the Lord felt confused and the happiness of the room was making him feel just a little worse. Sweet melodies weaved their way through the air, flutes, harps, and the chime of Elven voices speaking about the latest going ons in Middle-Earth matched well. 

        Though the commander wasn't sure if he could stomach anything at the moment he sat in the hall at a spot far from the full tables. A young Elleth gave him a plate filled with fruits of all different kinds and a tall glass of wine, which the Lord was grateful for. He thanked the Ellon kindly before returning to his own thoughts.

        Glorfindel knew that Muldes had been right. It was indeed blood and the gash through the fabric supported that, but why? Elrond had not been on any patrol for nearly a year now, what could have cut him. Glorfindel took a long sip of wine before returning to the subject at hand. It looked like a clean cut through the fabric, like it was a person, no animal cut that cleanly. Though, who would want to hurt Lord Elrond? Still Glorfindel had a sinking feeling that it had been a person, an elf of some kind.

        The thought made him sick again and he pushed the plate of fruits away. With remembrance that he had patrols to make he abruptly got to his feet. Glorfindel turned away from the table top in favour of the archway from the hall. He weaved in between the tables of the elves eating and talking to leave the room.

        Outside the sun was a quarter of the way through the sky and the patrols needed to be made and guided. With no distractions in mind, and not wishing for another incident like in the gardens, he took the quickest route to the training grounds. Of all the places in the city, this was where Glorfindel was most.

        The clash of steel made his heart jump in excitement. The roaring of shrieking metal pounded through his ears. Dust was flying trough the air as the Commander walked through the groups of men, young men, and boys training. Two men were clashing head to head with naked steel, a risk if Glorfindel had ever seen one. The two wore nothing but leggings and their hair was down. The taller of the two had long blond hair and the other had hair that was a cross between red and brown.

        The blond haired man saw him from the corner of his eye, spun away from his competitor, and ended in a kneel in front of the Commander.

        "Commander Glorfindel." The other saw the Lord and of course heard his companion. He slipped into a kneel as well. "When you were not here at the time you usually come we assumed that you had taken a day to relax." The blond man was know to all as Turdaer and the other man was known as Durdaer. The two held no relation even though their names were stunningly close to the same.

        Turdaer had been a guard in Serion before it's fall. He guarded the front doors to the castle where the King and Queen had resided. Though during the battle the was severely wounded by a cut across the throat by a man who had brownish red hair. The blood lost had made him black out and he had been assumed dead. When he woke he found that the top half of his pointer finger had been chopped off. Of course, he was an excellent swordsman and worked around the complication, earning himself a spot as one of the two swordsmen in Glorfindel's personal patrol.

        Durdaer knew Turdaer, but he knew him as the man who throat he had cut open. Durdaer worked under the rule of the Feanorians, following them since he Blessed Lands. He stayed silent for most of the time unless his advise was asked. Though, the two of them got along well even though that they had been mortal enemies in the First Age, they now fought side by side in the personal patrol of their Commander.

        "Ah, it is understandable." He dismissed their bows with a wave of his hand. "I was met with a small issue, and I am afraid that it took away a bit of my time. Yet, I have made it here and I will set up the patrols for today."

        "Of course Commander, we with gather the soldiers that are meant to go." The two sheathed their swords before marching off to find the other members of the patrols. There were twenty four members of the patrols in all. Six in every patrol, one commander, one healer, at least one bowman, and at least one swordsman. This left a lot of room for personalisation. Every commander worked best with certain people and certain weapons. Glorfindels patrol had two swordsmen, and two bowmen. Though others had three bowmen and swordsmen and only one swordsman or bowman. It was quite a mix.

        Glorfindel knew that it would take a good chunk of time to gather all twenty four members to this field, so he decided to find another swordsman and polish his skills. He wander through the fields, seeing all the men fighting with one another. No doubt if he had asked they would had left their partner gladly, but he didn't want that.

        The sound of a whetstone on iron cried in his ears. With a glance to the direction that the sound had come from he found a partner. A ellon sat on a bench, with only leggings like almost every other man in the courtyard, and a great sword across his lap. His silvery whaite hair was tied back in a warriors braid. 

        "Did they miss you Maethorion?" The Ellon looked up, his icy pale blue eyes scanning the commander. Maethorion gave Glorfindel a shy smile before looking back down to the sword in his lap and the stone in his hand.

        "Sometimes I am harder to find than you might imagine. Did you send out Durdaer and Turdaer?"

        "They were the first men I found." His second-in-command laughed.

        "Than we will be long awaiting the arrival of the others."

        "That is why I came to you." Maethorion shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to the iron in his lap. "I was hoping that you would spar with me, at least one round." Glorfindel held out his hand for his second-in-command to take. "As you said, they will not be here right away."

        "If you wish commander." He took the Vanya's hand and Glorfindel pulled him to his feet. The pair moved to a corner of the training yard that was almost always empty. Today, all that was there was dust, dirt, air, steel, and the leaders of the guard. They took their places across from one another on the field. Meathorion whipped  out a blade made from steel the colour of ice and the edges of the blade were black. No one knew where the sword had come from, nor who made it. Many believed it had been a gift from the late Lord Celebrimbor. Maethorion had told Glorfindel that he had known the craftsmen well, and the dwarves had said that they could change the colour of metal.

        "A fine sword Commander Maethorion, where did you acquire such a piece of steel?"

        "You flatter me Commander, but I am sure you have much better weaponry than I." He looked around uncomfortably once more before looking back to Glorfindel. "Shall we begin?"

        "I suppose it would be a bed idea to fight in clothes like these." Glorfindel unbuckled his sword belt, laying it upon the ground, and pulled the robes off over his head. He folded them up in his arms and sat them on a bench not far from where he was standing moments before. The Commander grabbed his belt and wrapped it around his waist again even though there was really no reason for it to be there. Though, he needed his sword. 

        Glofindel whipped out a sword that was rather plain compared to Maethorion's sword for choice. It was plain steel, yet there was a flower design upon it and a few of the flowers were filled in with gold. Only a few mind you, he didn't was a too heavy of a sword just for decoration.

        "I believe I am ready. It is your call mellon nin, you call when we begin." Maethorion looked as if he was waiting for a que. Glorfindel was about to say that it was his decision, the second-in-command made his move. Lightning fast and smart the man was a force to be reckoned with. Glorfindel held up his sword in a sloppy parry, still just good enough to save him the black edge of the steel. 

        Yet, the beginning he had taken Glorfindel unawares, now the Lord was getting into a rythium. Steel sang and clashed in the yard with an amazing ferocity. Hits becoming stronger and faster, but occurring more slowly. They danced from the coldness of the bitter sword of their opponent.  The wind whistling, their swords were moving that fast. Cutting through air, skin, muscle, flesh, tress, plants, animals, in this moment Glorfindel felt as if he was unbeatable. 

        He threw Maethorion to the ground and sent his sword flying to the other side of the field. Glorfindel placed a foot on his chest and placed the tip of his sword over his second-in-command's throat.

        "I've won." It was a simple statement that gave Glorfindel a measure of pride that many would not understand. 

        "Well done Commander Glorfindel!" The Vanya flipped around to see eight Ellons standing behind him, two of which were Durdaer and Turdaer. 

        "What are you two doing back already!"

        "We gathered the morning patrol men. We will have more time to round up the others, but you should start with these six." The six who made up the morning patrol bowed to the Commander as the other two did.

        "All of you are here, correct?" He scanned the six but knew it would be better to just call names. "Callon?"

        "I'm here Commander." A dark haired man that Glorfindel was well acquainted with looked up. Glorfindel beckoned for him to stand and the man did so.

        "Erfarin?"

        "I am indeed present Commander." The light haired youth did the same as Callon and was bid to stand as well. The archer did so, and kept his distance from the swordsmen.

        "Esgalnordir?"

        "Right here Commander." He did not look up boldly into the eyes of Glorfindel, instead he kept his head down and his eyes on the ground. Of all of the newest soldiers he was by far the most shy.

        "Rise Esgalnordir." The young man did as he was bid. Surprisingly the lighter haired archer met by his side with no hesitation. "Thandir?"

        "You must be blind if you can not tell if I am here." The boldest of the group challenged Glorfindel with a single glance. He infuriated the other swordsmen with a single word which was why Glorfindel had chosen the man, for his ability to tell it true.

        "Keep your tongue around me Thrandir. You would not want to removed from the patrols again would you?" The youth's eyes burned with desire to strike back.

        "Of course Commander." He mumbled dryly before getting to his feet.

        "Uiuldir?" Another one of the young men to join only a little while ago. He was an archer with great potential, but he needed just a little more training first. 

        "I-I'm here."  He got to his feet. The youth seemed to have a speech impairment where he studdered often. 

        "Ah, then there is no doubt that you're here as well, Arahaeldaer." The last man in the row, around the same age as Callon, stood. He was the only one dressed in robes and as such, he was the healer. 

        "Yes Commander, it is I." Glorfindel knew him. He had crossed the Grinding Ice, the two of them. He had often been in their party of warriors that went ahead of the main group. They had spied the fires of the ships and while the Feanorians were cutting innocents down, the three tried to stay away from the slaughter. 

        "Wonderful, we may begin. I would like you to survey as much of the valley as you can before the second patrol goes out, after luncheon, long before the sun reaches three quarters in the sky." The six nodded and Glorfindel continued. "I would like your group to focus on the east of the valley, closer to the mountains." Glorfindel scanned the group. "Do you understand?"

        "Indeed Commander. Shall we depart now?" Callon took the liberty of speaking since he was the patrol's commander. 

        "Yes, yes! Go now with haste. I have kept you from departing long before you should have, your time today has been cut short." The six nodded once more before departing for the stable to get their horses and gear for the patrol ahead. Maethorion looked over to where they left from. 

        "What do we do now commander?" Glorfindel looked back to his second-in-command with a light smile.

        "Will you spar with me until Luncheon. You do not have to-"

        "I would enjoy a worthy opponent Commander." Maethorion gave a devilish smirk before jumping into a battle position. "Whenever your ready." 

        Unlike his younger partner Glorfindel took no time in jumping into a fight. The clash of steel began again and rang out in the yard, from them until the sun had reached it's peak. Maethorion pinning Glorfindel down and claimed a win for himself for perhaps the third time. Both me were dripping from head to toe with sweat and were panting quietly. Their hair was damp, but their spirits were enthralled with the chime of steel. 

        "It looks as if it is time for Luncheon Commander, shall we go back?" Glorfindel accepted a hand up from Maethorion and walked over to the bench to grab his robes.

        "I would say so. I need to take another bath after that." Maethorion laughed in agreement.

        "You speak for me as well Commander." Glorfindel chuckled dryly for his breath was coming out in short gasps. Though, before either of them could go inside to wash there was the clopping of racing horse hooves. A large grey stallion reared up in front of them and it's rider was indeed a surprise.

        "Commander! There is something I must show you! It is urgent!" Callon looked down from his seat on the horse's back. 

        "What did you find Callon?"

        "From a stone in the trees Commander, there is a trail of blood."

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DUN DUN DUUUUN! The mystery of the gash is unraveling, though something tells me that you guys already know what happened. XD

Oh well. I hope you like this chapter of the story and I hope to update again..... maybe tomorrow?

See you then,

~Megan