'Are all men like you, Aragorn?'

'You know better, don't you, having watched me grow up?'

'Men grow and mature fast,'

'Aye, we do,'

'To me, you represent the race of men,'

'Is that a compliment?'

'Perhaps,'

'It's a good thing you do not represent the race of elves to me,'

'Oh, and why is it that, young Aragorn?'

'You know I resent that adjective,'

'Very well, young Aragorn,'

'Elves would seem all vague and annoying like you,'

'I don't believe I actually thought you were a sweet little boy,'

'And neither can I believe that I once thought of you as a handsome and lovely elf,'

'The handsomeness and loveliness are still there,'

'But I assure you my sweetness is gone,'

'Years of wandering have weathered your soul,'

'Aye, I have often thought of home,'

'Then why do you only return to me now?'

'I was scared,'

'That's why I call you "young", Aragorn,'

'... ...'

'Scared of what, lirimaer?'

'I'm not a pretty elf maiden you wish to win over with praises of beauty,'

'Fine,'

'Glorfindel?'

'Aye, Aragorn,'

'I was scared you would have given your heart to another,'

'Oh, Aragorn, you foolish little child,'

Anyone looking through the window into Glorfindel's room would have been shocked to see Elrond's adopted son lean into the protective embrace of the Valar, like they had done two decades previously.

'Author's note:

This piece was written within ten minutes. I actually wanted to leave the ending with no hint of who the elf was but decided against it. I figured this should be a piece of simply conversation, save for the last part. Tell me what you think,'