All I can say is Sansa deserves a true knight and a good man.

Home is Behind the World Ahead

When he wakes up, he expects to see Etchelion and Turukáno waiting for him in the Halls of Mandos.

Instead, he finds himself in the Taniquetil, in front of Manwë and Varda's throne, and he was blinded by the light that surrounded the Highest of all the Valar and Valier.

"You will serve as our emissary in Middle Earth. Do you accept this, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower?" Manwë asks, his voice booming in the halls of his white abode.

Glorfindel, once captain of the guards to Turgon High King of Noldor and the King of Gondolin, falls on one knee and bows his head, overwhelmed yet humbled by this order.

"Aye, I accept this responsibility wholeheartedly and endeavor to serve at your pleasure," he responds.

"Then go forth and be our voice." Varda commands and white light engulfs Glorfindel's body once more.

When he wakes up again, he was welcomed by the warm feeling of a bed against his back, and the softness of fur covering his body. He arises with alarm and finds himself in a very unfamiliar castle. The windows were closed so he had no sense of the time, but the fireplace was alight and burning, and he could hear the harsh winds outside. It was winter he deduced.

He then takes consideration of his surroundings. He knows it was a castle but he cannot decide where, or to whom it belongs for no information was shared to him by the Valar that sent him back here.

The place was a stark contrast to Gondolin. Whereas his former home was built with white walls, this place was made of grey stones and not of Elven architecture. Where was he?

It was then that he felt another presence in the room, he turns and sees one of the Afterborn, sitting on what looks like a wheeled chair, near the door. The afterborn was young and not even of age, but his eyes reflected years of ancient knowledge. Glorfindel does not know if the boy was one of the Edain but he does not seem hostile.

"You're not supposed to be here," the boy speaks in a monotonous voice. "You've fallen into the wrong world."

He learns that he was in the place called Winterfell, the Northern Kingdom of Westeros and Lord Bran, the boy who introduced himself as the Three-Eyed Raven, tells him that he was pulled into something akin to a gap, and fell into their world.

It was one of Lord Bran's sister who found him, half-frozen in the snow in the middle of their godswood and has been unconscious for several days. The young lord says that he still does not know why Glorfindel was thrown into Westeros but he promises to help him find a way to return to Arda. However, the elf would need to wait because Westeros is still faced with the threat of ice and death.

In gratitude, Glorfindel offers his service to House Stark and help fight in the coming battle, Bran tells him to talk his sister.

He finds Lady Sansa in the godswood, the same place where she found him. She was sitting in one of the protruding roots of the heart tree, eyes closed as though in a prayer, on her lap was the head of a large wolf, a direwolf the sigil of their house, which he failed to notice due to the fact that its fur blended with the whiteness of the snow. Glorfindel decides to leave her to her solitude and find another time to approach but she sees him first, possibly alerted by the now awake wolf that carefully eyed him with blood red eyes. It would have unnerved him had he not faced werewolves in greater size and not to mention, Huan, Orome's great hound.

"My lord," she greets with a smile. "I am glad that you are finally awake."

Glorfindel returns the gesture and bows before her, "And I offer you my thanks, my lady for if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here now."

The lady's smile widens. Glorfindel notes how well she blends with the snow and the trees; it was as if she was made to be here. Lossëwen, he names her, the snow maiden, and this name he keeps to himself.

"My brother tells me you are not from around here; he says that you are from another world. Is that true?" She asks, her voice, laced with wonder and disbelief, is soft like a gentle caress.

"Indeed, my lady. Where I am from is in a faraway place and Lord Bran has offered to assist me when the threat here is abated," he responds.

"If we win." Sansa's face falls into forlorn.

"I am certain that we will."

"How can you be certain, my lord?" Her brow raises an elegant arc as she asked.

"Because I am here?" he points out cheekily. He does not want to downplay those White Walkers but he was veteran of great battles and he had single-handedly defeated a balrog. Glorfindel was confident that he won't fall again here, his mission was in Middle Earth and he feels that the Valar won't let him die that easily not unless he fulfills his task.

Sansa's laugh echoes in the godswood. Glorfindel smiles and basks in the pleasing sound of the Lady of Winterfell's laughter.

He mingles easily with the people of Winterfell. No one asks who he is, or where he hails from, only that he is a trusted friend of the Starks and was given a seat of honor in their midst. To protect his true nature, he hides his ears with the braids that Lady Sansa taught him. Then he makes himself useful to lessen the burden of the people who had kindly taken him in.

And he was most useful with a sword, so he goes to the training grounds.

Lady Brienne was strong and fair, Glorfindel likes her. He does not know what to make out of her squire but Pod tries hard. So, helps with his training. In the end, he decides to help the overall training of the Northerners and Valemen, small folk and noble born alike, with Lady Brienne and the Northern lords.

Although the strong lady that was sworn to House Stark bears no resemblance to Ecthelion, her own patience and compassion with the trainees remind him of his long-time friend. And his heart aches as the memories of Gondolin resurfaces.

Sometimes, he's tending to the horses much to the Master of Horses' horror and astonishment. He had been thrown out of the stalls several times because the man was frightened that he might earn the Lady of Winterfell's ire if she learns that one of her esteemed guests is cleaning horse shit. But Glorfindel, stubborn as he was, still finds his way back.

In some occasions, especially in the evenings, he sits with Lady Sansa in her solar and he regales her with stories from his former life in Arda. Sansa, in turn, tells him of her journey back to Winterfell. All the pain and horror that she survived. When they bade each other goodnight, Glorfindel would sometimes find the dents his nails left on his palm due to how tight he had clenched his hands whenever Sansa brings up a painful memory. He wishes he had been there to protect her from the monsters that hurt her. His chest tightens with a need to protect Lossëwen while he was here.

Lord Bran he rarely saw. Judging by the weight and power placed upon his young shoulders, Glorfindel understands why his appearances were rare. Lady Arya, on the other hand, was intentionally ignoring him if she wasn't busy glaring daggers behind his back.

"She's only wary of strangers," Lady Sansa said when he brought it up to her in one of their shared meals together.

It had been another busy day for him in training grounds while the Lady of Winterfell had done inventories of their supplies. However, that afternoon he saw her standing in the battlements watching him and Lady Brienne. In most cases, Lord Royce would accompany her there as he also oversees the exercises but that time, she was alone, and when they finished, she invited him to sup with her.

She shares Arya's story and some of their childhood here in Winterfell. The younger Stark reminds him of another person back home. The Lady Aredhel.

"Give her time, she'll come to know that you are to be trusted."

A raven from White Harbor arrives. Glorfindel could feel the excitement radiating from all the Stark siblings at the news that their brother, Jon, was finally traveling back home. He shares the excitement, wanting to learn more about the man, who not unlike him, was brought back to life from the dead.

Everyone prepares. Food supplies from the different Northern keeps are added to the inventory. The training intensifies and more and more people hope to find shelter in the largest stronghold in the North. Glorfindel assists in final arrangements before the return of the King in the North.

"You must miss him a lot."

The dawn was yet to break but the Lady of Winterfell was already standing on the battlements overlooking Winter Town. The snow was falling from the skies and Lady Sansa's cheeks are flushed from the cold. The morning was grey, but the sight of Sansa Stark standing over the gates of Winterfell was like a beacon in the dark.

"I do," she smiles fondly. It was one of her rare smiles, small yet it reflects in her eyes, it makes her softer and youthful than the imposing façade she wears as the Lady of Winterfell. Beautiful, he thinks, taking in her appearance.

"Do you miss them?"

This question surprises him and he sighs wistfully, "Every day."

His hosts never fail to make him feel at home but Glorfindel's heart still longs for his real world, his home. He yearns for the people whom he had shared his life with; Ecthelion, Turukáno, Princess Idril, and Tuor, and even young Prince Eärendil.

"You will see them again," She assures him and takes his hand on to her smaller one, an act of sympathy. He was shocked to find it bare. He had never seen her without her gloves.

He squeezed it in silent gratitude and excused himself. Breathless, he descends from the battlements, deafened by the thunderous beating of his heart and the hand that his Lossëwen held remains warm.

Arya Stark surprises him when he steps down the wooden stairs. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously, her one hand grasping her little sword. Glorfindel ignores this and, bows to greet her then turns to walk away, but he stops when he hears her speak.

"I don't trust you."

"It is only logical not to trust me, my lady, I am but a stranger to your house and to these lands."

"No, I don't trust you with my sister," the younger Stark lady sneers at him.

This was the most she had spoken to him ever since his untimely arrival in their realm. It was often curt nods and grunts. The revelation stuns him.

"I assure you, my lady. Your sister is in safe hands." He promises sincerely. He cares for Sansa Stark, that he knows, but he does not want to acknowledge the true depth of the feelings he began to harbor after all the time they have spent together. He can't. But he'll never do anything to harm her.

"Good. Because I'd hate to see her cry if you are to perish so sudden and without reason."

Glorfindel sees past the thinly veiled threat. Arya Stark may never succeed in kill him but it will not be worse than the guilt he'd carry for the rest of his life if he ever causes his lady pain.

Jon Snow arrives not only with wagons of dragonglass but with a new Queen, dragons and another army behind his back. Glorfindel bristles at the sight of the black and green creatures flying above Winterfell, remembering the destruction Glaurung left in Nargothrond and the death and enslavement of his kin. He does not like them here and feels that Lady Sansa shares his sentiment.

The Northern King eyes him with suspicion when he takes notice of Glorfindel's form standing behind his sister. The elf hears Jon Snow ask Lady Sansa who he was when the two embraced. Lady Sansa does not answer but stares pointedly at the woman who stands in the entrance of the courtyard, the foreign-born Queen.

Daenerys Targaryen reminds him of his Telerin kin. If he was a normal man like the people that surrounded him, he would find her beautiful and ethereal, yet Glorfindel was no man and born an Eldar, and the Eru designed his race to be the fairest of his all creations. This Dragon Queen's beauty was mundane in the elven standards. However, her eyes speak differently. There was a mix of darkness and something else in those amethyst eyes that he could not name. Glorfindel is cautious of her true intentions here in the North.

Lady Sansa easily towers over her and exudes more power and authority. Pride surges inside him and he laughs inwardly when his Lossëwen ignores the Dragon Queen's empty compliments. Daenerys Targaryen's smile falters and a shadow passes over her face. Above them the black dragon shrieks.

Glorfindel's unease exacerbates.

"Not important?" Lyanna Mormont's disappointment echoes in the Great Halls of Winterfell. "We named you King in the North."

The silence of the halls was ended by the Northerners' sound of agreement to this little girl's words. All of them were angry and disgruntled, they made no move to hide it, even before their new queen. Jon Snow stares at Sansa, for help? And she stares back with the same level of disappointment as her people.

The once King in the North tries to explain himself but the people were not moved. Glorfindel apprehends their continued disapproval. Turukano didn't give away his kingdom in exchange for aid from others even when there was little hope of victory, he died fighting for it. Thousands died including Glorfindel and Ecthelion defending Gondolin and its citizens.

Jon Snow exchanged his crown and the North's freedom in desperation. Yet, will the sacrifice be worth it?

"We must fight together now or die."

The Naugrim-like man spoke in defense of the former King but even his words felt empty and were not enough to convince the upset nobles. Noise breaks once more but was silenced when the Lady of Winterfell spoke.

"May I ask, how we are meant to feed the greatest army the world has ever seen? While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for the Dothraki, Unsullied and two full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat anyway?"

"Whatever they want," Daenerys Targaryen comments indifferently and Glorfindel bristles at the silent threat. He makes a move to speak, to tell this outsider of what he knew of dragons, but he felt a hand stop him.

Lord Bran shakes his head, "Don't."

Glorfindel stands down.

Jon Snow does not come to the private dinner that Lady Sansa arranges that night. She hides the disappointment with fake smiles and enthusiasm in Lady Gilly and Lord Sam's recount of the achievements Little Sam made today. Glorfindel never dined with them before. Elves didn't need as much sustenance as humans did and he only eats when he finds the need or when Lady Sansa invites him. Lady Arya was absent once again and the Lady Brienne informs her sister that the younger girl was seen in the forge, Sansa rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the information. Lord Bran finishes early and asks Lord Samwell to accompany him outside. Lady Gilly excuses herself when Little Sam's eyes start to drop. Lady Sansa lets them go and dismisses a reluctant Lady Brienne, leaving the both of them alone with Ghost, who laid down by the fire, for company.

They all settled in front of the roaring fireplace, cups of wine in hand, reveling in the silence of the night and the warmth that fire offered. He could sense the fear and worry reverberating burdening her, it was all thanks to one Jon Snow.

"Bran was wise to cease you from speaking earlier," She remarks, watching him with concern. "She's dangerous. I don't like her and I don't want to see you hurt."

"You have nothing to fear, my lady. I have faced worse things than a human woman with dragons. Morgoth has more than whatever Daenerys Targaryen can offer to inflict. You have nothing to worry."

Sansa shakes her head and lets out a deep breath.

"It's just, everyone I care for is either gone or dead. Arya and Bran are here but they are different people now. And Jon? I fear that I have lost him to this Dragon Queen and to this war."

"You have me." He unintentionally says and the both of them look at each other with wide eyes until Sansa's lips curled into a fond smile. She reaches out for his hand and gives it a small squeeze. Glorfindel marvels at how her little fingers perfectly fit his larger ones.

"You've already become so dear to me in your short time here, my lord. You are a good friend, but this isn't where you belong. You have a life that awaits you in your real world."

Her words cut like a knife but it was the truth. In the end, he might not die but he will be one of the people who has left her. And he realizes that he doesn't want to leave her behind. She has become the dearest person to him and it would break his heart to go. Sansa's life was only a mere blink compared to his own. If he does find a way to return to Westeros after he completes the burden given to him, he might not be able to see her again. He has centuries and millennia to do his job, perhaps the Valar would be so kind as to grant him this chance.

"Then, I'll stay Lossëwen." He declares, finally revealing the name that he had long dubbed her. "I'll stay here for as long as you'll have me."

He brings Sansa's hand, still clasped into his, to his chest, directly above his beating heart, as he expresses his vow. Sansa gasps in surprise in both of his actions and words, but she speaks nothing, for her eyes were brimming with tears of joy.

I hope you like it.