1. At the Bridge of Mitheithel
Glorfindel straightened up from where he had just placed the beryl, a moment before Asfaloth angrily snorted.
Three Ring-wraiths on the bridge!
Rumours had proved true: The Nine were abroad.
Glorfindel sprang upon his mount, drawing his sword in the same fluid motion. Asfaloth needed no urging, swiftly gaining momentum, flicking his ears at his rider's cry.
Harness-bells jingling wildly, they galloped towards their foes.
Piercing screams rending the air, the Nazgûl wheeled their horses, digging in cruel spurs, to flee back the way they had come.
Glorfindel laughed aloud, battle-fury coursing through him, and chased them before him.
24.05.06 B-drabble for Radbooks, who requested a drabble about Glorfindel.
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