"Yes," said Glorfindel. "Fantastic idea, my lord. Go into Dol Guldur, where you know something has bested Mithrandir. Both of you remaining ringbearers, and the last member of the Council of the Wise. All of you. At the same time. Against an unknown evil power. Best idea I've heard in millennia, my lord, even better than let that man leave Gondolin. Surely nothing will go wrong."
"We cannot just leave him there," Elrond paced, frowning. "Mithrandir's life is in danger."
Glorfindel sighed, "I am not suggesting you not go, my lord, merely suggesting that you want to consider bringing others along."
"You said it yourself, Glorfindel, it is a power that has bested Mithrandir. Which others do you want be to lead there, like lambs to the slaughter?"
"If I may be so presumptuous," Glorfindel said after a sip from his glass,"I would gladly follow you. I can assure you that it takes quite a lot to kill me. That much has already been measured."
"I am uncertain about your choice to not take any warriors with you," Celeborn says.
"What use would they be," she asks, "against a power they cannot defeat?"
They lapse into silence.
"Is it a power you can defeat?" He stands by the window, looking out at the woods darkened by night.
The trees sway in the lightest of winds, leaves whispering in the night.
"I do not know," she says.
"Those are not mere heirlooms, my dear steward, they are gems of starlight, beautiful beyond measure."
Thranduil's steward sighed. Elves dying for gems of starlight, beautiful beyond measure. Now where had he heard that before?