I do not own Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, their father Elrond, or his father, Erestor, the Hidden Valley, Green Wood the Great, or even Middle Earth. Tolkien created all these characters and I'm so grateful to him for doing so. :)

Glorfindel returned from another walk around the snow-filled valley well after sunset. It was always the winter that made him nervous. It reminded him of the north and how hungry evil got in the dark crevices once the freezing wind cut through their coats and tough skin. The chill would then sink into their bones ill-covered in thin flesh. The enemy had fed his servants poorly on purpose. He knew it made them hungrier, fiercer, even more blood-thirsty.

Even though the Hidden Valley was far from pockets of darkness dwellers left-over from those days, he patrolled during the winter. After all, he had thought Gondolin well-protected once.

Glorfindel entered the kitchens to get a warm drink and found two of his lieutenants huddled over their own goblets of spiced-wine. The pair chortled and smiled over their cups' silver rims. The older ellon gave them a fond smile as he made himself a cup of tea. "What are you two, young miscreants plotting this time?"

Elladan lifted his eyebrows at his elder. "Are you still calling us that even after the fight we gave you the other day?"

"Ah yes, you two did put up quite good a fight together until you slid in the snow, my Lord's elder son."

Elladan sank lower in his chair. He frowned as he lifted his goblet toward his lips and then muttered behind it, "You melted that snow under your own foot before causing me to step in it."

The other lieutenant turned to his twin again. "Another, less-friendly opponent may use the same tactic upon us someday brother. And I hope you learn how to defeat it quickly, for you left me wide open when you disappeared before my eyes."

"I popped right back up."

"After, I was tapped 'dead' as I looked down upon your silly head."

"Which was your own fault, Elrohir, for being distracted by his mistake. Now, answer my question and tell me what mischief you two have afoot unless, of course, it is against me." Glorfindel turned fully toward them while lifting his cup of tea.

Elrohir smiled back at him. "'We' weren't plotting anything this time, Balrog Slayer."

'We were discussing the far finer mischief already wrought and not-yet discovered."

Glorfindel lowered his cup without taking a sip, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And whose mischief are you refusing to reveal and thus spoil?"

"It's not like 'that' this time Glorfindel."

"'This' time father would kill us 'for' interfering."

"I see." Glorfindel took a quick sip while staring at them.

"My brother is being over-dramatic," Elladan added. His brother sent him a scowl. Glorfindel chuckled after swallowing his tea. Usually, it was Elladan who waxed eloquent and long while telling tales with his younger brother rolling his eyes and giving practical and brief details behind his elder brother's back. This time proved no different, except it was Elladan staring from behind his brother at him.

"What he means," Elrohir continued "is a bit of 'kindly' mischief was done today. Mellolaes told Erestor a story, and put him to sleep this afternoon ..."

"And he has yet to wake up."

Glorfindel's grin widened. "Oh?"

"Indeed."

"And father has forbidden anyone from waking him til he does so on his own. He's had a hard time sleeping since his accident. As you know. So he's likely been tireder than he's let on. He's even told father he couldn't possibly get sleepy just lying around all day, but Mellolaes put him to sleep."

"And we were discussing what he'll have to say when he does wake."

Glorfindel smiled while pouring himself more tea. He'd been taking throughout the short story. The Balrog Slayer smiled to himself over the rising steam from the kettle. So, his friend was finally getting some rest. This was a blessing indeed. And she'd told him a story. He almost chuckled to himself. How had she talked the stuffy Noldo into that? "What was this story that caused our steward to slumber by its end?"

"Oh, I don't think it's ended, but there are bets going on about whether or not she'll be called in by him to finish it."

"I'm betting she does."

Elrohir turned a disapproving look upon his brother. "Only because the more careful gamblers are so far betting against it."

"I can afford to lose the money, but imagine how much gold I'll gain if I win."

Elladan grinned while lifting his goblet to his lips. Elrohir shook his head. Glorfindel smiled at them and asked, "Again, what is this tale about you have bet over Elladan?"

"It's one mostly about her own people, I believe. Lathwinn the Great is in it of course."

"Oh course," Glorfindel's golden head nodded over his tea. Their queen was always included in the Silvan's stories.

"But Mellolaes is spicing it up and hooking Erestor's interest by adding in one of your own people, Glorfindel, one who emerged from Morgoth's mines and joined her folk long before our grandfather sailed west."

Glorfindel looked up at the twins his eyes widening. Their own widened as they watched. "Glorfindel, your cup is overflowing!"

The Balrog Slayer looked down and found the beverage was washing away the last bit of melting snow from the toe of his boot. He lifted the kettle-spout and swallowed. There hadn't been a sip of tea in his mouth. "She's … telling him a story of a Noldo escaped from Morgoth's mines?"

"Yes …"

"Why does that bother you so much, Glorfindel?"

The Balrog Slayer's mouth hardened into a thin line. Of course, they wouldn't understand. The twins were born after, long after. Even Elrond wouldn't know. He and his own twin weren't privy to the information either. But he knew. And he hadn't been here to notice or interfere if it had been necessary. But perhaps it wasn't. If he'd fallen asleep. Perhaps he only pretended to sleep though ...

"I'm going to check on my old friend in his slumber."

Glorfindel placed the cup of tea on the table and turned toward the stairs. The twins turned their heads to gaze after him in wonderment. "Be careful Glorfindel," Elladan called. "Father was very clear about what would happen to the elf who wakes him!"

. . .

He opened the door and gazed in. His face gentled at the sight he saw. The ancient ellon did indeed sleep. His face was soft and lax in the silver light from the window. All was well.

Glorfindel's face grew serious again at his next thought. What would the elleth's story ultimately do, though? Was his friend living in a land of fantasy through her tale or … could he really have healed so much from his own grief after all this time to not mind hearing this tale of one who had survived what his friend had not?

The ellon turned before gently and silently closing the door behind him. He would hope the latter was true, but to make sure, he'd join them next time to see for himself. He had to protect the elleth and his friend from one another this time.

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God Bless

ScribeofHeroes