The Twice-Born watched the pitiful band, grandly called the "Fellowship of the Ring" or "The Ten Walkers", leave the last Homely House. Glorfindel was unhappy as he had been dumped from its membership at the last moment, on the trumped up premise that he was "too powerful" and his brilliant aura (the reason for him being called Old Sunshine behind his back) would announce the Fellowship's presence to the enemy - like a torch burning in darkness.

Flicking his hair over his shoulder the Balrog Slayer scoffed at that explanation. Firiel, a female of uncertain race (probably Eldar, although some mix possible), mysterious past, unknown parentage (supposedly the daughter of Lady Galadriel and Sauron before his downfall ... or was her sire Feanor, who had taken his niece to wife by force? Either way – eww ... ), incredible beauty and yet unrevealed but undoubtedly mighty powers – apart from already displayed beautiful voice and Maiar-like grace when dancing – had wrapped Elrond around her finger and making puppy faces at him, with quivering lip and watery eyes thrown into the bargain, had wheedled her way into the Most Important Mission in Arda's History. Glorfindel cleared his throat of phlegm and spat (good! ten yards at least!) over the railing. Elrond was long overdue for grandchildren and was going gaga over every smooth face younger than two thousand years old ...

He felt Erestor slide up to him and stand alongside at the railing. The shy, gentle scribe put his delicate hand, calloused from wielding quills, on his strong, broad, rough-like-sandpaper hands of a warrior. The Noldo placed his head against Glorfindel's shoulder, their raven and golden tresses mixing and playing together in the morning breeze. Such proximity made the Head of the House of the Golden Flower uneasy and he stepped aside – he had no wish for such contact. However, Elrond's advisor followed him, slipping his arm into his, and attached himself to the Balrog Slayer's wide form like a polypore to a mallorn.

Lifting the gaze of his corbeau spheres to catch the spadiceous orbs of the taller and broader Ellon, Erestor whispered in a husky voice:

"I see sadness on your visage, my Lord. Let me be the one to wipe your forehead smooth and to unmar your features ..." and nuzzled against Glorfindel's shoulder.

This made the former Defender of Gondolin even more uneasy. But mindful of the Task given to him by the Valar – to uphold the Laws of Eru and Cleanse the Land of the Unnatural, he drew upon the millennia of experience of surviving the backstabbing politics at Turgon's court and did not let his True Feelings show.

To be on the safe side he crossed his eyes to check if Rivendel's Librarian (rumoured to "work off stress" with knitting) was nuzzling or wiping his nose against his broad, heavily muscled chest. It was the former. Steeling himself and quenching the cold grasp of uncertainty in his stomach, he looked down and mellowed the gaze of his orbs from rufous to lurid and whispered back.

"What would you wish of me, Noble Book-keeper?"

Eerestor's spheres light up from a fire within, colouring them zinnober! The Lore Master slid his arms around the Reborn's ripped abs and purred, looking up to him and raising his umber lips to the warrior's pyrrhous ones:

"Make me yours! Take me! I will make you happy! Use me once! I am the one ..."

Glorfindel shoved Erestor back and drew his sword. The razor sharp weapon left its sheath without a sound, just like it should, and cut off the Librarians' head in one fell swoop. Bending over the headless carcass and with one foot on its torso he wiped the blade clean.

To the servants who had rushed to see what happened he grunted, anticipating the words to be spoken two months later by Legolas in the Golden Wood:

"An Abomination of Morgoth."

One of the servants gasped:

"What did you say?"

He repeated - "Abomination " and added - "To the dogs with him".

The Golden Haired ellon then walked away whistling to himself, no longer gloomy. 10th Walker or not, he still was useful in the defence of Arda against the Filth of the Enemy. What a Yuletide Gift from the Valar!

AN:

The Elves do not celebrate solstices (e.g. midwinter aka Yule) but equinoxes. I used some non-canon here as to bring in some Season's cheer!

One of the sources of inspiration was the 10h loop of "They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard" on youtube.