Less Than Perfect

by Nightstalker1

Every elf has been less than perfect at some point in their lives. Arwen: Misinterpreting what you hear often leads to complete insanity.

2. Glorfindel

Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I'm back again with more elf insanity!  Glorfindel fans beware!  I know that there is a lot of debate over Glorfindel's origins.  From what I've read on the Net, Tolkien originally created two elves named Glorfindel; Glorfindel of Gondolin who fell to his death while fighting a Balrog in the First Age, and Glorfindel of Imladris in the Third Age.  According to Tolkien's notes, he was thinking about merging the two characters into one.  Basically, Glorfindel of Gondolin was killed and then returned from the Halls of Mandos as the fully grown Noldor elf we all know and love.  Glorfindel's origins in my story are going to be the same as Tolkien was planning.    

Glorfindel's New Friend

The day started out like any other in the elven kingdom of Imladris.  The sun rose beyond the Misty Mountains, bathing the hidden valley in soft radiance.  Animals began to emerge from their dens and venture out into the open while the air filled with chirping bird songs.  The entire valley was the model picture of peace and serenity in the early morning light.

It was at this time that the elves of Imladris began to stir.

The elves emerged slowly from their quarters; some fully alert and ready to greet a new day while others were still half asleep and all but dragging themselves out of bed.  As everyone began to fully wake, one though was on every elf's mind; breakfast.

The House of Elrond contained two dining halls.  One was for grand feasts and the other for casual meals; like breakfast.  The casual dining hall was positively buzzing with various conversations as it was slowly filled with hungry elves.  When the food was brought out, all conversations were drowned out by the sound of silverware tapping plates and glasses clinking.

Lord Elrond sat at the center of the high table on the most northern end of the dining hall.  On his left, his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir were devouring their food like a pair of hobbits that had missed first breakfast.  To his right, Elrond saw his daughter Arwen silently eating with all the manner of a high class elf lady and studiously trying to ignore her brothers.  All of the tables were filled with eating, chatting elves.  It seemed as though all was right in Imladris that day.

However, Elrond sensed that something was not right.

"Elladan," Elrond leaned over to his son directly beside him.

"I din' do it!" the eldest twin exclaimed through a mouthful of half chewed sustenance.  He quickly swallowed.  "I swear it was all Elrohir's idea!"

The elf lord sighed in exasperation. "I was going to ask if you happen to know where Glorfindel is this morning.  He is nowhere to be seen."

Both twins abruptly stopped eating and looked over to Glorfindel's usual seat beside Arwen.  Sure enough, it was vacant.  Their sharp eyes scanned over the entire dining hall, but there seemed to be no trace of the golden haired Noldor anywhere.

"That is strange," Elrohir sat back in his chair and picked up another slice of fruit. "He never misses breakfast.  He said himself that it is his favorite meal around here."

"Yes, that is what worries me," a slight frown appeared on the half-elf's face. "I hope he is all right."

"Father, you worry too much," Elladan smiled and began to shovel food back into his mouth. "Wherever Glorfindel is, I am sure he is fine.  After all, he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

"Most of the time, yes…" Elrond trailed off, uncertainty clear upon his face. "None the less, I shall check his quarters after breakfast just in case."

The raven haired elf lord turned his attention to the breakfast in front of him and was about to take a bite when a sudden thought occurred to him.  He turned back to his ravenous sons.

"What did you mean when you said 'it was all Elrohir's idea'?  What have the two of you done now?"

The twins blushed, exchanged panicked looks and raced out of the dining hall before their father could conduct any further inquiries. 

*          *          *

Lord Glorfindel had always been an elf that enjoyed his privacy.  It was because of this reason that his private chambers were located in a quiet corner of Imladris, away from the other rooms.  As Elrond made his way to Glorfindel's chambers, he could not help but gaze at the beauty of Imladris that stretched out around him.  He had truly created an elven paradise in the valley before the Misty Mountains. 

As he walked, the elf lord could hear the sound of elven feet running down the corridors at a breakneck speed.  As the footsteps grew closer, Elrond resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard two elves gasping for breath as they ran.  His sons never ceased to amaze him sometimes.  He had often had he pondered how such accomplished warriors could be masters of stealth on the trail of orcs but noisy as dwarves in a mithril mine at home.     

The twins came into view a few seconds later.  They were red faced and out of breath, as if they had been running for her lives.  This was not surprising, though.  With the amount of trouble they caused at home, it was a daily occurrence to see the twins running for their lives.

"What have you done this time?" Elrond called out to them as they ran by.

Both elves stopped dead in their tracks and looked back at their father like dwarves at arrow-point [1].  Quickly composing themselves, they walked back to Elrond with their heads held high.

"We were merely running to catch up with you," Elrohir explained confidently. "Both of us are equally worried about Glorfindel's absence at breakfast, so we decided to accompany you."

Beside Elrohir, Elladan was nodding vigorously.  The elf lord sighed deeply.  Whatever they had done, he would find out soon enough.  For now, he might as well let them tag along.  What harm could it do? 

Wincing at that particular thought, Elrond gestured for his sons to follow him. "Come; let us see to our friend."

*          *          *

As they neared Glorfindel's chambers, the three elves were surprised to see the door ajar.  This set them all on edge.  Glorfindel's door was always closed to ensure his privacy.  Elladan and Elrohir placed their hands on the swords by their sides as they edged closer, hunting instincts on full alert.  Elrond moved ahead of them and pressed himself against the wall, just next to the open door.  The half-elf strained his ears to hear for any signs of danger but instead heard a single, high pitched voice.  In fact, it sounded almost like someone with a normally low voice was speaking in falsetto. 

"It was so nice of you to join me for tea today, my dear.  Needlepoint, muffin baking, and orc killing can get so monotonous after a few thousand years, so it is wonderfully delightful to have a bit of company over ever now and then.  Would you care for another crumpet, darling?"

Three dark haired elves on either side of the doorway exchanged looks of utter confusion.  Who was this person and what were they doing in Glorfindel's chamber?  A sudden squeal of terror from inside the room made all of them jump in surprise and burst into the room with their weapons drawn. 

"Where are they?" Elladan demanded. "I will slay them all!"

"Slay who?" a familiar deep voice answered them.

It was then that they noticed there was only one other person in the room.  And that person was a certain golden haired Noldor that went by the name of Lord Glorfindel.  He was seated in a large burgundy armchair in front of a table laden with supplies needed for a very large tea party.  All other chairs around the table were mysteriously empty.  This in itself was a bit odd, but the oddest thing of all that they saw was Glorfindel himself.  The usually conservative elf lord was wearing a long, paisley dress with a very low collar.  Enormous white lace ruffles stuck out of the sleeves and beneath the hem.  His long golden hair was pulled back into a single braid and decorated with multiple ribbons of colorful silk.  Odder still was the fact that he was also wearing his black hunting boots beneath the entire outfit.

"Forgive us for interrupting," Elrond tried very hard to look at the seated elf's face and not his outfit. "We did not know that you were expecting company."

"Oh, not at all," Glorfindel replied with a smile. "If I had known the three of you were coming, I would have set out more cups."
"Who exactly are you expecting?"  Elladan eyed the empty place settings with curiosity.

"Just some friends of a friend; Lady Nesbit, Lord Ernelm and his son Vanderbule.  Oh yes, Mrs. Rindergeld and Mr. Simious said they would be a bit late."

"Oh," Elrond replied simply.  There was no other possible answer he could give.  So, he abruptly changed the subject. "Glorfindel, what was that scream we heard?"

"Oh that?  Never mind that, my lord.  For a moment, I thought that I had run out of cream, but it so happens that there was another jug in my private stores."

That said, the room became completely silent.  Glorfindel stood there in his paisley dress, smiling like stoned Istari, while Elrond and his sons simply stared at him.  The real burning question was still hanging in the air, but no one wanted to be the first to say it.  After five minutes of awkward silence, Elrohir could not wait any more.

"Glorfindel," He began timidly before spitting it out. "Why are you wearing a paisley dress with white ruffles?"

Glorfindel stared at the younger twin as if he had just grown a second head. "Mr. Snuggles likes the paisley one better than the turquoise."

Deciding that another five minutes of awkward silence would interfere with further pranks, Elrohir pressed further. "Who is Mr. Snuggles?"

"Mr. Snuggles is my new best friend," Glorfindel beamed. "He is a six-legged puppy."

" 'A six-legged puppy'?" Elrond and his sons asked at once.

"Of course a six-legged puppy," Glorfindel rolled his eyes as if a six-legged puppy was the most obvious thing in the world. "He has a big, cold, wet nose and a shiny purple coat with the cutest little gold spots.  Mr. Snuggles really is a true friend, you know.  He is always there for me."

"And where exactly is Mr. Snuggles right now?" Elrond could not help but ask.

"He is sitting right there, waving hello to you."

Elrond looked over to his right where Glorfindel was pointing and saw only an empty chair.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes.  He is telling me that your robes are very cleanly pressed and smell like fermented curd."

"I do not see anything there," Elladan interjected. "There is nothing where you are pointing but empty air."

Glorfindel sighed. "That is too bad then."

Elladan was thoroughly confused. "Why is that?"

"It is because Mr. Snuggles is invisible to almost everyone.  He can only be seen by special elves.  He told me so himself.  You see him, do you not, Elrohir?"

Elrohir gulped when he saw the say-no-and-I-will-slaughter-you-here-and-now look in the golden haired elf's eyes. "Um…of course I see him.  You are right Glorfindel, his spots are very cute.  Are they not, Father?"

Elrond caught the pleading note in his younger son's voice and nodded vigorously. "Oh…oh yes!  Very cute indeed.  And I thank you for your compliments Mr. Snuggles.  You are very kind, isn't he Elladan."

"Yes, he is very nice.  I did not see him earlier because I was too busy looking at the maroon squirrel that is tap-dancing on the table," Elladan replied with dripping sarcasm.

"Oh pay no attention to the squirrel," Glorfindel groaned. "He is just trying to get attention by interrupting us.  Not like Mr. Snuggles.  He is very polite.  Now come, the tea is getting cold.  If the three of you are to join our little party, then you must be wearing the proper attire."

That said, Glorfindel raced over to his closets and pulled out three of the tackiest dresses ever created.

Elrond looked over his shoulder at his sons, who were slowly backing away toward the open door. "Oh no."

Elladan and Elrohir responded in unison. "Not again."

*          *          *   

It was a well known fact among all members of the First Born that Lord Glorfindel was a very special elf.  He was once known as Glorfindel of Gondolin, chief of the House of the Golden Flower.  During the First Age, Gondolin had been a beautiful and prosperous realm, until the darkness came.  As Gondolin was laid to ruin, Glorfindel and many others set out alone to face their enemies.  Atop the cliffs of Cirith Thoronath, the elven army was surrounded by orcs and Glorfindel found himself facing the most dreaded of all beasts on his own; a Balrog.  Their battle was a mighty one, but neither would be the victor.  As their battle was waged, the pinnacles of rock where they fought crumbled away and both Glorfindel and the fire demon fell to their demises.  Many songs were composed in honor of the valiant elf and the tears shed in morning for him were great. 

But Glorfindel was never one to simply give up.

Time passed and Glorfindel grew restless in the Halls of Mandos.  With strength of spirit unknown to any other, Glorfindel was able to free his soul from Mandos and return to Arda as a reincarnation of himself.  Physically, he was exactly the same as he was before his death; but his mind held untold wisdom gained from his years in Mandos' Halls.  After wandering Arda for a time, Glorfindel finally chose to settle within the House of Elrond as a warrior, teacher, and friend.

And that was when the problems began.

Understand that Glorfindel was the first and only elf to ever return from the Halls of Mandos by strength of will.  While this was an incredible feat, it had its consequences.  Though he had returned as a much wiser version of himself, he had acquired a strange condition which the elves referred to as "Post Mandos Syndrome".  Things were fine and dandy with Glorfindel most of the time, but every few years, the Noldor's personality would go through a dramatic change.  For days, or even weeks, he would develop strange and disturbing habits.  He would become obsessed with bizarre and even dangerous things.  His tastes in clothing would completely change and he would begin to talk in the most obnoxious accents.  Basically, he would drive everyone he saw completely insane with his antics.  Often, if he could manage it, Elrond would have to chain Glorfindel to a tree on the outskirts of Imladris to prevent the other elves from stringing the Noldor up by his own golden hair.  Thankfully, Glorfindel had been acting completely normal for the past hundred years and everyone thought that he may have overcome his condition.

I should have known it was too good to last. Elrond inwardly groaned as he sat in his private study with the twins.

"It was too good to last," Elrohir stated his father's thoughts out loud. "Things were going so well this past century.  I suppose it was only a matter of time before he had another bout of Post Mandos Syndrome."

"He can have as many bouts of Post Mandos Syndrome as he wants, as long as he leaves me out of it," Elladan grumbled as he pulled the last of the ribbons from his raven hair. "I never wish to go through that again.  Pink skirts are not my style."

"Nor is teal my style, but that is not the main problem here," Elrond interrupted before the elder twin could start another fit of ranting. "For the sake of everyone's sanity, we must keep Glorfindel from doing anything too foolish.  We can not have another incident like the last time this happened."

Both twins groaned simultaneously before Elladan spoke up. "Do not remind me about that.  His notion that running around without clothing would enable him to fly was a complete disaster.  Do you know how many railings and chairs he broke with his crash landings?"

Elrond sighed and rubbed his temples to release the tension in his head. "Actually I was thinking about what happened when the emissaries from Lórien showed up a week early; right when he was at his worst."

"At least he was sane enough to cover himself up," Elrohir pointed out.

"Covering himself with a single fig leaf did not do much good, brother," Elladan groaned. "Valar, I thought Galadriel would never stop yelling at you, Father."

"My ears were ringing for a month after that," The half-elf grumbled. "I suppose I should be thankful that she did not kill me when we explained what was going on with him.  In any case, we need to make sure that such an incident never happens again.  No matter what personality change Glorfindel receives, it will always lead to trouble eventually."

"Absolutely," Elladan growled as he shredded the ribbon in his hands. "Remember the time he became a pyromaniac?  I am surprised that all of Imladris was not burned to ashes."

"And then there was that phase where he dressed up in short skirts, tight shirts, and hair ribbons and watched people from behind plants while making those annoying little girly giggles," Elrohir grimaced.

"And then there was the time he cuddled up to anything male and asked to see their "bow"." [2]

"Mother was not too happy about that one.  Then there was the time he acted like a pregnant cat."

"And the facial masks made of horse manure."

"And the lucky warg's tooth that was still attached to the warg."

"And the time he did nothing but consume lembas and dwarf ale for three straight weeks."

"And the elven schizophrenia!"

"No, no, Elrohir.  That was not because of Mandos Syndrome.  That was because he got kicked in the head by that old mule."

"Oh yes.  Sorry."

"The point is, my sons," Elrond interrupted. "that we must keep Glorfindel out of trouble before he causes any more problems.  Are we in agreement?"

As one, the three of them nodded.

*          *          *

The next morning found Glorfindel sitting quite contentedly before a roaring fire, despite it being the middle of summer.  In his hands, a pair of knitting needles flashed in the firelight and clicked rhythmically.  The giant pile of yarn at his feet was pulled up into a huge tangle that was slowly taking shape.  Or at least Glorfindel thought it was taking shape.  An outside observer would only see a massive blob of knotted yarn.

"Wakey wakey, Mr. Snuggles," The reborn elf called over his shoulder.

Glorfindel had spent countless hours the previous day creating a miniature version of his own bed for Mr. Snuggles, complete with four post canopy and silk sheets.  The full scale and miniature beds now stood side by side.  The golden haired elf's eyes were fixed on Mr. Snuggles' bed.  Though the sheets did not move, Glorfindel could see a little six-legged puppy jump out from underneath them and scuttle over to his side.  Glorfindel's eyes were focused on nothing as they traveled from the immaculately made bed, to the floor, and then to his feet.

"Oh what a good boy you are, Mr. Snuggles," Glorfindel cooed into empty air.  "Such a wonderful, smart, clever, cutie little good boy.  Look, I am making you something pretty."

He held up the shapeless blob of yarn, revealing that it actually was not as shapeless as it seemed.  The Noldor had, in fact, knitted a bright pink sweater with six sleeves and the elven rune for "S" on the front in canary yellow.  It was the perfect size for a puppy.

It was at that point that Elrond just happened to walk in.

"Glorfindel, will you be joining us for the noon meal?  The cooks are preparing a wonderful…" The half-elf's voice trailed off as he observed one of the most respected elves holding up the ugliest sweater he had ever seen.

Glorfindel beamed at his old friend and held up his knit creation. "Elrond, look.  Is it not the most perfect sweater in all of Arda?"

"Oh yes, Glorfindel, it is beautiful," Elrond nodded, not ready to start questioning his sanity this early in the day.

"Only the best for my Snuggy-poo," The Noldor cooed to a blank spot on the floor.

"Yes," The half-elf muttered through his teeth. "Only the best.  So will you be joining us?"

"Forgive me, but I must pass.  Mr. Snuggles wants to go and play outside now.  Perhaps we will join you later."

Elrond gave his old friend a hard stare, as if searching for some trace of sanity from the golden haired elf.  Upon seeing none, Elrond sighed in resignation and left, closing the door behind him.

When the Lord of Imladris was gone, Glorfindel gave a wide grin to his invisible six-legged puppy. "Come, Mr. Snuggles.  Let us go outside and frolic together."

Sure enough, five minutes later, Glorfindel was frolicking about in a grassy meadow with a pink, six-legged sweater tucked under his arm.

*          *          *

As night crept over the valley, two identical figures were seen sneaking into Imladris' kitchens.  It had always been a joke among the elves that Elladan and Elrohir were part Hobbit from the size of their appetites; and their penchant for midnight snacks only served as further proof.  In no time, one of the long preparation tables within the kitchen was piled high with leftovers and fixings for the next morning's breakfast.

"Brother, are there any more of those strawberry tarts that we had at dinner?  I really have a craving for them right now," Elrohir said as he rummaged through the cupboards.

Elladan shoved a plate of the tarts toward his twins as he picked up a container of thick, puce colored, paste. "What do you suppose this is?  It smells awful."

Elrohir shoved another tart in his mouth and dipped a finger into the odd concoction.  He gave the thick paste on his finger an experimental lick and wrinkled his nose in very obvious disgust.  "It would appear that this is Figwit's latest concoction."

It should be noted that Figwit was an elf who was very conscientious about his health and physical appearance.  He was forever trying to create "miracle sauce" to put on all of his food that would make his skin glow brighter and his hair sleeker and shinier.  Unfortunately, Figwit was not the greatest of cooks and his experimentations often resulted in mush that could gag a troll. 

"What did he use this time?" Elladan grimaced as he immediately threw the "miracle sauce into the nearest rubbish bin.

Elrohir grabbed a damp cloth and attempted to clean the paste off of his finger. "If my taste buds are right, and they always are, then I believe he used orange peels, rotting salamander skin, crushed mountain laurels, and a dash of medicinal tea that Father prepared two weeks ago."

"And just how do you know that the tea was prepared two weeks ago?  While we are on the subject, how do you know what rotting salamander skin tastes like." Elladan eyed his twin suspiciously.

Elrohir simply shrugged. "Oh.  Father made the tea for me when I ate a rotting salamander skin two weeks ago."

Elladan stared as if his brother had grown a third head. "There are times when I wonder about you."

Any further comments were interrupted as Glorfindel suddenly burst through the kitchen doors with a peacock under one arm. 

"Glorfindel?" Elladan hesitantly called to the Noldor who was now frantically throwing cupboards open.

"No time to speak, my friends," Glorfindel said over his shoulder as he threw random items onto a countertop.  "Mr. Snuggles is ill and I must help him."

Elrohir leaned over and whispered into his twin's ear. "How can an invisible friend become ill?"

Elladan shrugged.

Glorfindel began dumping buckets of water into a pot over a cooking fire. "I heard that certain types of soup are the best thing to give any ill being.  Chicken soup is one of the best, from what I have learned.  While I have very little knowledge of culinary arts, I have been meaning to learn for a long time.  What better way to start than to create a meal that will nurse my Snugglies back to health?  Oh my, I feel like the mother I have always wanted to be."

As he rambled on about nothing in particular, the golden haired elf's hands were busy slicing up anything within reach and dumping it into the pot.  Carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes were perfectly cut and added like most normal soups.  The twins could not help but cringe, though, when Glorfindel began adding items he had unknowingly pulled from the rubbish bin; stale bread crusts, day old fish bones, and all of Figwit's "miracle sauce".

"Let me think," Glorfindel tossed another bucketful of water into the pot, though most of it sloshed onto the floor. "I believe that I am to let it boil for a few minutes before I add the chicken."

"Forgive me, Glorfindel," Elrohir cast a glance at the bird that was now sitting on the counter and attempting to preen its disheveled feathers. "But why do you have a peacock?"

"You two know how difficult it is to find a chicken around Imladris," Glorfindel replied matter-of-factly.

"It is even more difficult to find a peacock," Elrohir muttered under his breath.

It was at that time that the peacock realized why it was sitting in a kitchen next to a pot of boiling water.  With an undignified squawk, it jumped down from the table and scuttled away before anyone could stop it.

"Oh dear," The Noldor was crestfallen as he watched the bird disappear from view. "Now what am I going to do about the soup?"

Elladan groaned. "Believe me, Glorfindel, it will make no difference.  Mr. Snuggles will hardly notice a difference."

"Really?" Glorfindel brightened. "Oh thank you, Elladan.  You are such a smart elf.  I am sure that Mr. Snuggles will love his soup without chicken."

"Peacock."

"Whatever.  Now, I wonder if it is done yet."

It was all the twins could do from retching right then and there as Glorfindel pulled a spoonful of "soup" out of the pot and shoved it in his mouth.

"Hmmmm…" Glorfindel looked thoughtful as he licked his lips. "Perfect!  I shall give this to Mr. Snuggles now.  Good night my friends."

Grabbing the giant pot, Glorfindel made his way out of the kitchens.  Once he was out of site of the twins, though, he dropped the pot as his face turned green and he ran for the nearest bush.

*          *          *

"So where is he now?" Elrond grumbled as he finished toweling off his hair.

Elladan gave a huge yawn before answering. "He is giving Mr. Snuggles a bubble bath."

"A bubble bath?"

"Yes," Elrohir growled as he scrubbed a particularly stubborn stain on his tunic. "He is planning on entering Mr. Snuggles in a beauty pageant.  Apparently the tap-dancing maroon squirrel is the current reigning champion."

"Well at least someone around here will be clean then," the Lord of Imladris groaned and walked back into the bathing room to wash his hair again.

The previous night had been anything but restful for Elrond and his kin.  Glorfindel had insisted that they hold a great festival in honor of Mr. Snuggles' first toenail clipping.  Of course, all of the Noldor's orders were issued by Mr. Snuggles.  The festivities included an arrow sculpture building contest, boiled lobster races, and a pudding feast.  According to Mr. Snuggles, Glorfindel had announced that Elrond was to be crowned the Great Pudding King and tradition demanded that the half-elf be dunked in a particularly large tureen of tapioca pudding in celebration.  Immediately afterwards, Glorfindel began flinging the pudding everywhere, claiming that Mr. Snuggles said it was the customary way to pay homage to the new Great Pudding King.  Needless to say, the next morning saw all of the elves cleaning up the mess and silently plotting ways to maim the golden haired elf. 

"This has to stop," Elrond glared at his still stained hair. "Someone has to stop Glorfindel before his insanity becomes too much for us to handle.  Elrohir, grab the chains; Elladan, the sleeping draught."

*          *          *

Once more, Glorfindel was frolicking about in a meadow with Mr. Snuggles as they celebrated his obtainment of the title "Most Likely to Beat a Tap-Dancing Maroon Squirrel in a Beauty Pageant". 

"Snuggy-Wuggy?" Glorfindel looked down at the empty space under his arm. "I am tired of frolicking.  What say we play a game?"

Silence

"Wonderful!  Fetch sounds like a marvelous idea!"

Five minutes later, a rather large pile of sticks was lying twenty feet away from Glorfindel. 

"Fetch, Snugglies!" The Noldor laughed as he threw another stick which landed harmlessly in the growing pile. "Silly Mr. Snuggles.  You are supposed to bring the sticks back, not jump over them.  Let us try that again."

After an hour of stick tossing, Glorfindel finally became tired and sank down into the grass.  He idly stroked the air a foot above his chest.

"Mr. Snuggles, you are my very best friend in all of Arda.  We will be friends forever will we not?"

His only answer was a rustle of leaves as a bird took flight.

"What?" Glorfindel sat up and stared at his empty lap. "What do you mean we will not?"

Silence

"You are leaving?"

More silence

"You have found a new best friend!  Who?"

Nothing

"Tim the disgruntled post master of Rohan!  What does he have that I do not have?"

Again, there was absolute silence.

"Who cares about his collection of shiny horse hairs!?  Was I not good to you?  Did I not treat you like the prince you are?"

Still more silence

"What!  You are not the prince of Tuffyland?  You lied to me?"

Glorfindel did not seem to realize that he was receiving absolutely no response because he was yelling at a figment of his own imagination.

  "Fine then!  Leave!  I do not care!  You mean nothing to me!"

When Elrond and his sons finally found Glorfindel, the Noldor was kneeling on the ground and sobbing into his hands.  His golden hair was sticking to the tear tracks that ran down his cheeks.  Curious, the half-elf motioned for the twins to put down the items they were going to use to subdue the Noldor and knelt down next to his friend.

"Glorfindel?  What troubles you my friend?"

"Elrond!" Glorfindel threw his arms around the elf lord's neck and proceeded to soak his finally clean robes with his tears. "Mr. Snuggles left me!"

Three raven haired elves all exchanged looks of total confusion.

"A plague upon the Rohirrim and all of their disgruntled postal workers!  How could he find them more wonderful than I am?  Did he not think I was pretty enough in the paisley dress?  Should I have worn the taffeta one instead?  Oh, Mr. Snuggles you cheating, lying, deceitful, sly, two-timing, backstabbing snake!  Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina [3]!  How could you do this to me you…you…HUMAN?!"

Elrond chose to ignore that remark.

"You have gone and left me all alone.  Now I do not have anyone to talk to that could possibly understand what I have gone through all these ages."

The Lord of Imladris sighed in relief.  Mr. Snuggles was gone and Glorfindel seemed to finally be returning to normal.

But even he could be wrong…

For the next few days, Glorfindel neither ate nor slept.  He stayed locked up in his room, curled up in a ball on his bed, and cried day in and day out.  Elrond was seriously beginning to worry about his old friend.  The Noldor had already been sent to Mandos once in battle.  He could not bear for him to be sent there again from grief.  Nothing he could do could bring Glorfindel out of this dreadful melancholy. 

"Father?" Elrohir tentatively entered the elf lord's private study. "Has there been any change?"

"None," The half-elf sighed. "I fear that unless something is done soon, we will not be able to help Glorfindel."

The younger twin grabbed his father by the arm and yanked him to his feet. "And I believe that if you do not stop worrying, we shall not be able to help you either.  Come, let us take a walk.  Elladan and Arwen are seeing to one of the horses in the stable who has gone into labor.  Perhaps seeing the birth of a new life will help ease your despair." 

Elrond could not help but smile.  His sons, immature as they were most of the time, could be very wise when they chose.  Nodding his assent, he allowed Elrohir to lead him toward the stables. 

"Father, you are just in time!" Arwen smiled as she met Elrond and Elrohir at the stables. "She will give birth any minute now!"

Within the stables, Elladan was gently patting a very pregnant mare and whispering soft elvish words of encouragement and strength in her ears.  Seconds after the elf-lord reached the stall, the birth was done.  A gangly little foal with a flawless white coat was wobbling about on unsteady legs as his mother nudged him along with her nose.

"What shall we call the little one, Father?" Elladan smiled as he watched the foal's antics.

Elrond thought for a moment. "I believe that we should name him…Asfaloth."

"Oh Father, he is absolutely perfect!" Arwen cooed. "Please let me have him.  I will take such good care of him and raise him to be a strong runner.  Please let me have him, Father.  Please?"

A sudden flash of brilliance flashed in the elf lord's mind. "No, Arwen.  I know of someone who needs this horse much more.  If you all will excuse me, I have to take care of an urgent matter."

As Elrond hurried off, Arwen sulked. "I will get that horse.  One way or another, Asfaloth will be mine." [4]

*          *          *

Elrond picked the lock on Glorfindel's room and walked in without so much as a knock.  He knew the other elf lord would not answer the door on his own.  Glorfindel was still curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.

"Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel shifted slightly on the bed.

"Glorfindel, I have something that may help you.  Will you come with me?"

The Noldor shook his golden head.

A slight scowl appeared on the half-elf's face. "You are coming with me whether you want to or not.  Right, my sons?"

Elladan and Elrohir burst into the room and tackled Glorfindel where he lay. In a flash, he was suspended between the two with Elladan grabbing his arms and Elrohir grabbing his legs.  Grinning like a pair of hobgoblins, the twins rushed out of the room with their captive in tow.  Elrond shook his head in mock disbelief before following. 

Glorfindel was hauled out to the stables where the twins unceremoniously tossed him over one of the stall walls.  The Noldor hit the ground with a satisfying thump.

For the first time in several days, Glorfindel spoke. "What is that smell?"

Twin faces appeared over the wall and tried to refrain from laughing.

"Sorry about that, Glorfindel," Elrohir snorted. "I suppose we should have aimed better."

It was at this point that Elrond walked in and saw the interesting position his old friend was in. "Elladan, Elrohir, would you care to explain why Glorfindel, Noldor and elf lord, is sitting in a pile of horse manure?"

The twins responded to this in the only way they knew how; by running for their lives.  Elrond groaned as they escaped before turning his attention the Noldor before him.  Dragging Glorfindel to his feet, Elrond led him to a low table set up within the stall.  The table was set up with a tea pot, a tea cup, and a large saucer.

"What is this all about, Elrond?" Glorfindel looked up at the half-elf.

Elrond smiled and seated the golden haired elf in front of the teacup. "I know how upset you are at losing your friend, Glorfindel.  But I believe that I have found someone else that you may have tea with.  Well, very diluted tea.  Sit right here and I shall fetch him."

Once the Lord of Imladris had left, Glorfindel helped himself to a cup of tea.  Upon tasting, he discovered that it was indeed diluted as Elrond had said.  Scrunching his face up at the taste, Glorfindel proceeded to pour the rest of the teapot's contents into the saucer. 

The Noldor was so wrapped up in the awful taste that he did not hear someone enter the stall.  It was not until a wet nose rubbed his neck that Glorfindel realized with a start that he was not alone.  He whirled around and found himself face to face with the pure white face of a male foal.

Elrond chuckled from behind the young horse. "Glorfindel, meet Asfaloth.  He was just born this morning and is currently looking for an elf that can raise him to be a fine horse."

Glorfindel found himself at a loss for words as he looked up at the half-elf. "You would give him to me?"

"I can think of no one better suited for the job," Elrond smiled. "You will raise him well and he, in turn, will be a very loyal companion.  I shall leave the two of you to become better acquainted now."

The Lord of Imladris smiled to himself as he left the stables.  Arwen, who witnessed the whole thing, fell in step beside her father as he made his way back to the main house.

"Do you truly think this will work out, Father?"

"I do not doubt it.  Asfaloth will be the perfect companion for Glorfindel, for he is playful, spirited, and loyal.  And unlike Mr. Snuggles, he is visible, does not promote insane ideas, and, most important of all, he can not talk."

Meanwhile, Asfaloth was helping himself to the saucer of tea.  Glorfindel watched the foal with a look of pure wonder on his face.  This creature was absolutely amazing and would grow to be a fine horse.  And he belonged to him.  Glorfindel smiled brightly as he began dropping sugar lumps into his tea cup.

"At least you are enjoying that tea.  I need to sweeten mine up.  I would offer you some, but I know that horses can not talk."

Asfaloth stopped drinking and looked up at the Noldor with his big brown eyes.  He raised his hoof and gestured toward the sugar bowl.

"Two sugars please."      

The End

[1] Has anyone else noticed the look on Gimli's face when the Fellowship is caught by the Lórien elves?  I thought it was hilarious!

[2] This is actually something from Orlando Bloom.  In an interview he said that one of his favorite things about playing Legolas was that he can go up to people and say "Wanna see my bow?"

[3] Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina!- You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny! (No joke, this is an actual translation)

[4] Yes, I'm one of those people who didn't like how Arwen got to ride Asfaloth in the movie. 

A/N: And so ends chapter 1.  I have a lot of ideas for some of the other elves, but I will need some help.  I need more ideas for the following elves:

Elladan and Elrohir

Elrond

Thranduil

Orophin

Rúmil

Gil-Galad

Send me a review with your ideas and I'll pick the ones I think will work best.

NEXT CHAPTER: Arwen-Misinterpreting what you hear can lead to big trouble.