I wrote this for a prompt, failure, and I'm not sure it came out so much about that as something else. It still counts, right?

Aggregation

"It is not like you to wallow in despair like a horse at the mud hole."

Glorfindel shook his head and turned to face the figure seated at the top of the hill. Breezes from the ocean played with the ebony hair, tossing it out, unfurling the lengths like the banner of some long-lost lord. Sea oats swayed in the winds as Glorfindel walked slowly up the hill. It was cool, the sun low, still above the waves but near enough to sunset to throw a golden glow upon the hill. "I do not despair." Reaching the summit of the hill, he faced the seated figure and crossed his arms. "I merely mull over events to see what possible outcomes-"

A snort as the figure plucked a long stem of the dried grass and stuck it in his mouth. "Don't mince words with me as if you were Fëanor. He's still in the Halls and you, dear friend, are alive, so stop the gloomy outlook and begin to discover what can be done."

Glorfindel sat with a sigh. "I cannot help them." Running his hands over the grass, now at shoulder level, he stilled his hand as a ladybug alighted upon a stalk near his fingers. Watching the small red and black beetle, Glorfindel could avoid looking to his right. "This is not my task to accomplish. I know this, and yet I see the hobbit, he looks so like a child! Ai, Ecthelion...it pains me to think of sending such an innocent on a horrendous task."

Breezes playing with the long black lengths of hair, eddying and swirling it much like the ocean below, suddenly dropped and stilled. "His innocence is a strength, Glorfindel." Ecthelion slanted a look sideways, silver eyes gleaming in the dying light of the day.

"And it will be lost as he very well will be!" Another huff, and Glorfindel looked away, frustrated. "Elrond said much the same as you."

"You should listen to him."

"You said I should listen to Fingon, as I remember. Look where that got me!"

Chewing the grass for a moment, Ecthelion smiled and leaned back on his hands to watch the sky go from the clear blue of a warm day to the darker blue when sunset is approaching. "Dead, same as me." A shrug and he looked at his friend. "Glorfindel, you despair because you hate to see others suffer when you think you can do something to end that pain."

"I can!"

"Can you?"

"I could take the Ring and ride to Mordor. Drop in the lava as Isildur should have done so many years ago!"

Ecthelion was suddenly right next to him, facing him, one hand on his head, stroking his hair. "Dearest friend. Brother, you are strong and while you might accomplish this task, would you see the strength of others fail and fade because of you?"

Startled, Glorfindel shoook his head, and opened his mouth only to close it.

"This task is given to the meek, Glorfindel. To those who have dwelt long in the shadows of the great, waiting. It will be the making of some. You would not deny them that...would you?"

He shook his head, the answer clear even as it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I do not want glory, Ecthelion."

"I know." The smile, at once endearing and annoying, curled Ecthelion's mouth. "They do not dream of heroics either, save one or two, Glorfindel. Nor did we, and heroics...well, that is for the bards, is it not?"

Heroics. Glorfindel knew better. He and Ecthelion, all the others, they had done only what they must, what they could in a desperate moment. Choices, yes, they had choices, and had sacrificed themselves of free will, but he would never call it heroics. "So I stay safe while they march blindly to Mordor."

"Would you call Mithrandir or Aragorn blind?" Sitting back, grass once again firmly between his teeth, Ecthelion hummed for a moment. "I wish you were not so eager to throw yourself in danger's path."

"And I wish you were not dead."

The flashing grin was sudden and startling. "Who said I am?"

On the golden stalk of grass, the ladybug reached the top and swaying there for a moment, opened her shell, wings catching the air, before flying away. Glorfindel watched, tracking her path towards open sea, before looking at his friend. "I am dreaming you know." His voice was quiet, hushed as the sun began its descent towards the ocean, glowing red and orange as it sank. "Imladris has no sea and you are far away in the west."

"You know that is Arien, and the sun is really a vehicle Aulë created as well, right?"

Yes, he knew. But after eons he had come to see it as just...the sun.

Ecthelion laughed, and the sound rang in the air, silver and almost as alive as the ladybug had been. "Call me if you wish to speak again, old friend." Silver eyes alight with merriment, he stood and held out his hand.

Glorfindel took it, surprised at how solid it felt and the strength that pulled him easily to his feet. "There are ways I can help." Pulling him close, close enough to smell his hair, the sea and a clean scent that had always just been...Ecthelion...Glorfindel hugged his friend. "I will see you on the dream paths then."

Smile still merry, Ecthelion stepped back. "Some day there will be an accounting, Glorfindel. Of all the small tasks that meant so much to so many. Of the small kindnesses shown that you simply took as what you normally do. You will see then that those small deeds meant more than you could ever imagine."

He disappeared as the golden orange sun touched the horizon, wind rising up to blow against Glorfindel, sending his hair across his eyes. He sshook his head...

...and blinked, eyes focusing on the sunrise of a new day.

I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker."
Helen Keller