A/N: Thank you for the reviews, I'm still working out a lot of the aspects of this fic, which will probably make updates erratic at best. I do apologize and hope for your patience and continued interest!


A Few Days Later..

Humming along to a familiar tune as she worked, Adhel lost herself in the flowing letters she copied from one piece of parchment to another. She was not the master of tongues Elrond could claim to be, but he had taught her enough that she might scribe for him when his attention was required elsewhere. Her lessons in healing had not gone so well, as the sight of blood set her hands to shaking and melted her resolve almost instantly. But with the missives and documents she spent a good portion of her days with, she could be no one. She did not have to be the daughter of a kinslayer. The curling script she laboured over would look the same no matter who she was or was not, the quill gripped between her fingers remained unbiased whether she hummed Maglor's songs or did not.

Setting said writing implement down, she leaned back away from the desk and stretched her neck and back carefully. The light filtering in through the large window she had situated herself before was growing dimmer by the minute. Not that this affected her elven sight, but it did foretell the coming end of another day.

"Ah, here you are." Elrond stepped into her line of vision, his amiable smile prompting one of her own in return. "You did not join me for the evening meal again."

"Forgive me," Adhel replied as she began to tidy away her things methodically, though her movements were soon stilled by the gentle weight of his hands upon her shoulders.

Peering down over her head at the letter she had been translating, Elrond could not help but appreciate the simple beauty of her neat hand. "There is nothing to forgive. But I am very curious as to what has been keeping you away of late." He could feel the tension enter her muscles at this comment. "Adhel?"

"I have not meant to avoid you." Slowly, she extricated herself from his hold and stood up.

With a furrowed brow, Elrond allowed his hands to drift back to his sides. "But you have been avoiding someone."

When she inclined her head it was indication enough that this was the case. It had taken several months to persuade Adhel to eat in the great hall amongst the rest of those who dwelled within the walls of the palace, but since that time she had never failed to sit with him for a meal despite the unease she yet felt in the presence of the other elves. And there was only one thing to have changed lately.

"Glorfindel," he surmised, his suspicion confirmed when her green eyes darted to his guiltily. He could not fathom what may have transpired to cause her to wish to avoid the Gondolindrim, whom he had already come to respect and trust in the short time since the elven lord's awakening in Imladris. "Will you tell me why?"

"I wish I could, Elrond," her small voice confessed, fingers twisted in her skirts.

Frowning at her visible agitation, he waited for her to sort out her thoughts.

Adhel released a soft sigh before she was able to continue on. "When you came upon us that day he had just asked of my father. I did not have the opportunity to answer then, and I have been dreading it ever since. I know it is foolish and that he will come to know whether I tell him or not, but I… I cannot bring myself to face him."

"You feel he will judge you?" Elrond inferred as he regarded her solemnly.

"His first concern when I found him was for the safety of Idril and your father. How can I look him in the eye when it was my blood which sought to kill those he gave his life defending?"

"Sought to, but did not. In the end I do believe that both Maedhros and Maglor repented of their sins, Adhel. But even if Glorfindel does not see it that way, I do not think he would lay the blame for their actions at your feet. He does not bear a vindictive or unforgiving spirit."

Colour crept into her cheeks, tinging them with the evidence of her embarrassment. "You think I am being petty, then."

"I think you should give him the chance to come to his own conclusion. And that you are not the only one burdened by events long in the past." Offering his hands to her once more, Elrond grasped her slender fingers steadfastly when she held them out.

Adhel conceded with a nod. "How does he fare?" she asked after a few moments.

"In light of what has befallen him, he is managing quite well, though at times I can sense in him a melancholy." With a measure of hesitation, he squeezed her hands. "I have some pressing matters to attend to in the coming days, I am afraid."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than did fear tighten its grip around her heart. "Sauron?"

"It appears that way, yes," Elrond confirmed regretfully.

"Then you must promise not to worry about me or anything else for the moment," she insisted.

With a temperate smile, he reached up and twisted a tendril of her mahogany hair between his fingers. "I can but try."


The Next Day..

When she came upon him in the glade, Adhel nearly turned around and retreated back the way she had come. His back was to her, and she did not think he had heard her approach, as his posture didn't change. Though she felt that she was imposing, Elrond's words propelled her slowly off of the path and closer to him.

"I hope I am not disturbing you, Lord Glorfindel."

He remained unmoving for a moment, and she worried perhaps he was lost in deep thought or even ignoring her, but then his shoulders shifted and his body turned towards her. She glimpsed the scorched breastplate beyond him, propped reverently against the base of the tree he had been facing.

Clasping her hands together before her to stop them from nervous wringing, Adhel managed to meet his gaze. "I understand that… this all must be very difficult for you to come to terms with. I am sorry for my behaviour when first we met, I hope you can forgive me and that… we might talk, if you would like?"

"I trust that neither of us was ever taught the proper reaction to discovering that someone has returned to this world from Mandos' Halls," Glorfindel reasoned, calm voice betraying no hint of the sorrow Elrond had eluded to. "There is nothing for me to forgive."

"You asked me who my father was."

"Yes."

Summoning all of her courage, Adhel straightened her spine. "His name was Maedhros."

Any surprise or displeasure he may have felt at the mention of the name he kept well hidden, his expression staying neutral as he observed her. "I knew him once," was his only response.

Beneath his quietly appraising stare she had to struggle once again not to let her discomfort show.

"If I have made you feel you were compelled to tell me that, then perhaps I am the one who should be asking for forgiveness, Adhel. On the day we met I was reminded of someone I knew and cared for many years ago, and I may have pressed you in light of this. For that I am sorry." When she lowered her eyes wordlessly, Glorfindel allowed his own to travel back to the piece of armor at his feet.

She was not sure what reaction she had expected from the warrior, but it certainly had not been an apology. Still, sensing his need for solitude, she stepped back onto the path noiselessly and left him alone with his memories.

Before she had quite reached the palace, she noticed Erestor coming toward her. His ebony hair billowed out behind him as his determined strides brought him ever closer.

"Adhel, do you know where I may find Lord Glorfindel?" he questioned without preamble.

"He is in the glade."

The words had no sooner left her lips than was the councillor moving in that direction, causing Adhel to bite her lip.

"Erestor, wait, I think – I think that he desires some time to himself."

"It cannot wait," was the blunt statement which floated back to her in his wake.

She could feel despair curling deep in the pit of her stomach as she walked the rest of the way to her chambers and threw herself into her translations. Whatever it was that could not wait, it certainly was nothing good, but she attempted not to allow it to consume her thoughts.

Until the din outside her window became loud enough to break through her troubled distraction. Rising from her desk, Adhel placed both palms down on its smooth work surface and leaned forward to better see. In the courtyard below more than a dozen mounted and armored elves sat their horses rigidly, blue pinions fluttering at the ends of the long staffs they held erect. Numerous others stood at attention - too many to count, she realized with growing trepidation. She could not discern Elrond though surely he must be among them, but one golden head did draw her eye.

Glorfindel held out his gloved hand for the reins of the bay stallion he was presented with and climbed into the saddle with practiced ease. His flaxen hair shone pale against the sharp metallic angles of his armor and no flower embellished his breastplate this day. On his back were a great war-bow and quiver of arrows, and against his hip the unadorned hilt of a curved elvish blade rested. There was nothing about either his uniform or weapons which differentiated him from any of the other warriors, and yet Adhel could not look away once her gaze had fallen on him. A calmness settled over her in the presence of his quietly unassuming power, and she could see its effect reflected in the stillness which came over the entire force.

Long after the last flapping standard had disappeared from sight, she could still feel that stillness.