-Note- I'm back, and here's the chapter. Next posting will be on Saturday; school starts in a week and a half, and rehearsals will start back up on Sundays, Mondays for five hours and on Wednesdays for one and a half hours...so I'm warning you all early: chances are, I won't be able to maintain a regular posting schedule once school begins.

That's all I'm going to say here, but I will update my bio as often as need be to notify you of any impending updates/excuses. : P

-Edit- 16 August. Thank you, Noldo, for pointing out the error! I've fixed it! :D

-Disclaimer- Not mine.

A Short Talk

"Glorfindel, do you eat naught but these frozen dinners?" asked Elladan, peering squint-eyed inside the refrigerator, holding a packaged meal.

"No!" he answered defensively. "I have plenty of soup. And stop staring in my fridge- you're wasting energy."

"Canned soup, I'll warrant?" Apparently, the other was not to be deterred. Glorfindel straightened defiantly. "Mm-hmm. You're going to learn how to make...something. Some food. I'll think of something."

"Don't even try." He snatched the package from Elladan and held it close, ignoring the growing dampness of his sweater.

"Elladan loves his food," remarked Elrohir from the couch in the next room. Elladan scowled in his direction.

"Glorfindel, where's the nearest market? I refuse to eat one of those meal-in-a-box things."

Glorfindel sighed. "Will you get lost?"

"Only if you don't give me directions."

"Fine. Left onto DiFigoro, right at the intersection at Buccini, left on Ninth Avenue. On the corner, you'll see it. It's called 'Johnson's Supermarket'."

Elladan closed his eyes for a moment, repeated the instructions. "Thanks."

Glorfindel nodded, put the packaged meal back in the refrigerator.

Elladan laughed at him, took his cloak from where it lay on the counter, left.

Peaceful quite.

Ah.

Elrohir spoke to Alyaran in a ridiculous boice.

"Oh you silly, silly puppy...sit down...no, sit...I didn't give you leave to drool on me...yes, sit. That's it. Good boy."

Glorfindel grinned, entered the room, slouched into his lounge chair.

"He's gone?" asked Elrohir.

"Yes. Seems to think my frozen dinners aren't good enough for him."

"That's my brother. But you've got it wrong- he doesn't think they're good enough for you."

"I manage."

"I can see that. But Elladan is a bit more proper than either of us- and he does not like to see someone he loves...I don't know the word for it...a person he loves in a degrading situation."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, gestured to the penthouse walls, hung with Elven paintings.

"I know," said Elrohir. "But it would make him feel better to make a fuss over it."

"I didn't know he could cook."

"We've had a lot of spare time," Elrohir responded dryly. "Unlike others."

"Unlike me?" he sighed.

Elrohir looked at his knees. "You're a bit of a workaholic, it seems to us."

"A what?" he spluttered. "And Elladan is not?"

Elrohir shrugged. "I've gotten to him. It's not like he has the responsibilities of being an heir any longer. Imladris is long gone."

"Or any orcs to kill?"

If Elrohir had been any less of a man- or Elf- he would have looked shameful, but he frowned. "Or that."

At Elrohir's feet, Alyaran whined pitifully. Elrohir reached down, scratched an ear.

"And you, Glorfindel? Elladan thinks me too much of a 'free spirit' to see why you don't sail. I like to think I have a bit more than half a brain."

"You do Elrohir."

Elrohir smiled, looked up. "We can look after ourselves now, Glorfindel. You've trained us well."

"I know."

"And now you're different- changed, somehow. Not as...bright as you once were. You haven't given yourself room to think- and rest- in a long time, I think."

"Elrohir..." a warning pitched in his voice.

"You've done so much for us. All of us. Our father, mother, sister, Elladan and myself. You must have known that I've often felt closer to you that to Adar. If you do not need aid, tell me now and put my fears to rest," he challenged.

"I may cloak my identity and power as I will...but you are also right. The Elven magic fades more with each passing year, and there is less and less to hold on to. I am sure you have noticed this 'dimming' in your grandfather's wood. We're just weary."

Silence, then an answer. "That is true. I have. I understand, I guess...but I like it not to see it in you. It happens less with Elladan and I."

"That's because you're mutts."

Elrohir choked. "Mutts?"

"You're a bit of everything...Maiar, Man, Elf, Sinda..."

"The term I prefer is hybrid."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"But you're not- you're all Elf."

"I knew that."

"So...as the Elves leave and their powers fade, those who remain are weakened."

"That's what I think, anyway," said Glorfindel. He placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "It is nothing that cannot be healed."

"But you won't sail."

"No, I won't."

"You're very stubborn."

"I have a life here, however trivial, and a promise to keep; I will not leave you here, and I will guard you carefully still. Your family is my own now."

Elrohir sighed. "Elladan's right. You are impossible."

"He said that, did he?"

"Many, many times."

"Well, he's a tensed up little heirling."

Elrohir laughed.

"That was weak, but he'll be amused." He withdrew his hand from Alyaran's ear. Alyaran fidgeted, rubbed cold nose on Elrohir's pant leg, stood, breathed heavily in his face. Elrohir flinched and immediately began to pet him.

Thunk.

Thunk. The noise came from the floor in the corner.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Tha-thunk thunk thunk tha-thunk.

Elrohir looked up, wide-eyed, startled. Glorfindel smiled apologetically.

"That would be Mrs. Rosenthal."

"Who?"

"My neighbor. Don't laugh, she's very elderly and not quite...in the here and now."

"Like us?"

"No, definitely not like us."

"Oh."

"Her children pay her rent, but live out of town. She likes to say hello to me."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow. Glorfindel stood, went to the kitchen. Elrohir heard, over the slowing 'thunks' of Mrs. Rosenthal, the clank of metal cans.

Glorfindel returned, carrying in one hand, soup, and in the other, cat food.

"I didn't know you had a cat," said Elrohir.

"I don't."

"Then-" he stopped. "Oh no."

"Don't be shy," Glorfindel grinned. "We're going to visit her, and I think she'll like you very much."

--

Ok, that's about as close to a cliffhanger as this will ever get, I think. :D The streets DiFigoro, Buccini, and 9th Avenue don't, as far as I know, exist. They are my default street names, and I use them often. : ) The 'Johnson Supermarket' is also an invention, as is Mrs. Rosenthal.

Thanks for reading! Review Responses:

Aerlalaith: I'm glad it answered the ear question. I speak from experience with Elrohir's situation, so it was quite easy to explain. I could cover my ears if I wanted, which was actually quite useful in winter. :P I chopped it off last May and donated it, and, looking ahead towards another cold, windy/snowy winter, I'll actually have to wear hats. sigh Elrohir and I like having short hair. And if a lock slipped, it wouldn't seem too odd (to me, at least) to see a pointy ear. Pretty cool, but not very strange.

Neoinean: What would I do without you? Your questions are tough to answer, but bring up very valid points. The world-weariness bit was kinda-sorta mentioned in this chapter, but, as it figures importantly in the character of Glorfindel, will continue to be addressed. I've been working on my dialogue-writing (and working on knowing when to let the speaker shut up), so it's really good to hear that it helps build their characters.

Erestor: blushes profusely Thank you! It's really reassuring to hear that. I'm trying a lot with this story that I haven't done before. The style is very different from what I usually do, and I'm always rewording things. Personalities? Yay! Writing Elladan and Elrohir has proved rather difficult. Maybe I should put humor/angst as the genre. That would confuse people, but I don't know about the 'humor' bit. Hm. You've done Madlibs? With brothers, words like 'burp' and 'barf' always manage to sneak in. Vacation was wonderful, thank you. I got to ride in a pick up truck- the car broke down. :P It was an adventure, and quite a lot of fun, though we were lucky. Rings geek that I am, I actually thought of "Car Trip" and imagined Celeborn and Galadriel being towed...it was very weird.

Noldo: So am I! It would be a great injustice. The real Asfaloth would have haunted my dreams or something. shudder More humans? Well then, Mrs. Rosenthal is just for you, though she's not another pretty young secretary. She kind of snuck up on me. Maybe she'd be willing to knit Glorfindel a cloak. Without the guarantee. Elrohir gets to meet her, Elladan misses out. They'll be leaving soon, I think; a day or two more and they'll be gone.

Saturn's Hikari: You're back! Hurrah! A digital camera? Oh boy...I'd be lost, too. El and El? I haven't heard those before...hm...well, I'll be sure not to kill them off. Or else hire a bodyguard... ducks below desk no, I swear I won't kill them! :P But they will leave in a few chapters...is that okay? Fear not, the story will have a happy ending, and no Elf shall perish!

Nishy: Thank you! I didn't know my twins were different. Now I'm very curious. How so? I've read Prankster Twins and Protective Foster Brother Twins, and have tried to stay true to both those (despite the obvious lack of Aragorn- Glorfindel will have to do : ). Elladan and Elrohir spent most of the Third Age relentlessly pursuing and killing orcs, so I think they'd be a bit more serious. hmm...it's very good to hear that they're still in character. I didn't know it would be so difficult to write twins. I don't want them to seem very different from each other, or very similar, like the same character...hmm...