Only Glorfindel can venture into the wilds of Middle Earth with bells and a sense of ennui. The line of his shoulders, noble and relaxed, implies that they simply do not make Orcs the way Morgoth used to. It is nothing to dispatch a dozen of their number. He does not have to say the name of his dead-or-living lover, the name that has been a battle cry for the Ages, to put them to flight (he does not like to give them warning).
He returns to the Last Homely House with nary a scratch (all in a day’s work).