-Note- I have almost absolutely nothing to say. This is the 'almost': I think (or at least, I wish) I'll be able to have the next chapter up by next Saturday. :P

-Disclaimer- I don't own it.

An Evening with Company

Glorfindel leaned against the elevator rail, Elrohir pushed the buttons.

"You were wrong," he said.

"About what?" asked Glorfindel.

"About us not having anything to do with Men."

"Ah?"

"Or at least, you were wrong about me." He faced him, and for the first time that day, he saw real grief. "I left Grandfather's house for a time last year. I went back to Crete. All I had to do was introduce myself as a former student- she was a teacher- and her father told me."

Glofindel cringed.

"She died. Those mortal diseases...she had wed, had children. It isn't fair, Glorfindel. She wasn't even fifty."

"Elrohir..." He knew how to comfort the twins; he had done it often enough. He hugged Elrohir tight. It wasn't until he had done this that he realized how long it had been since he had actually embraced someone, or how he had missed it.

The doors slid open with a light ding.

"Don't tell Elladan. He doesn't understand."

"Why didn't you stay with her, Elrohir?"

"Why...? And leave my brother alone? That is not something I would do."

Glorfindel said nothing, led the way back to his door. "He's really in there?" he asked, a hand on the knob.

Elrohir nodded.

"Let's do this, then." He opened the door.

Alyaran greeted them, tail wagging, but Glorfindel brushed him away. "Elladan?" he called.

"Yes."

Ah. The reply sounded slightly disgruntled. Glorfindel walked through the kitchen, into the sitting room. Elladan was thoroughly ensconced in the overstuffed chair. Despite his decidedly unthreatening posture, his expression was one of frustration- childish frustration, Glorfindel thought.

"Sorry?" said Elrohir palms up in a gesture of peace.

"Where were you? I come back, the place is empty!" Alyaran trotted lightly into the room. "Except for the dog."

"Alyaran," Glorfindel corrected. Elladan scowled.

"I don't care."

Alyaran, if it was possible, looked hurt.

"We were visiting my neighbor, Elladan, she was calling for us."

Elrohir looked amused. "If banging on the ceiling is what you identify as calling, then you are correct."

"Yes, well she's an elderly lady, and I try to check in with her every week or so."

"She's got cats," Elrohir added helpfully. "You wouldn't believe what their names are..."

Elladan rolled his eyes. "Right. Okay. Glorfindel, are you ready to learn how to cook?"

"No."

Elladan gave him a glare that Glorfindel had fondly dubbed, years ago, the 'look of death'.

"Yes," he amended hastily.

"Good. There's nothing easier to make than spaghetti."

Glorfindel balked.

"What? I have spaghetti dinners in my freezer, I hardly think it necessary-"

Elladan stood, put a hand on his back and pushed him gently into the kitchen.

And so, Glorfindel Goldtress of Gondolin, Imladris, and the Seventh Avenue Apartments learned to cook his first real modern meal- according to Elladan, toast and macaroni did not qualify. Under close supervision, with Elrohir shouting encouragement from the next room and Elladan breathing down his neck, he managed to avoid any serious mishaps.

When it was finished, even Elladan had to agree: the spaghetti had been quite good (if only a little undercooked). They moved into the sitting room, lit a fire in the fireplace. A memory caught Glorfindel at unawares; the Hall of Fire flashed briefly in his mind, and he chuckled. How far they had come since that time...forward, or back?

Glorfindel half expected someone to start up a song, though his mood was not merry enough to join in. As it turned out, there was no music. It was Elladan who spoke.

"We don't know how long we'll be here; a few days at most. We don't want to be a bother, with you at work and everything- is that alright?"

"You will come again, won't you?"

Elladan shrugged. "When we can."

"You know you're always welcome here."

"Perhaps you can visit us next time," suggested Elrohir.

"Where will you go?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances. "We're not sure yet. It'll be a few more years before we settle down again," Elladan answered finally.

"I understand. I'll be leaving here in a few years."

"It's hard, isn't it?" mused Elrohir. "Having to move so often, make a new life, leave people behind..." he broke off, studied his knees.

"Aye, but you'll never have to be alone, El," said Elladan, pulling him close. "I don't know how you manage, Glorfindel. You must be frightfully lonely."

Glorfindel said nothing, scratched behind Alyaran's ear. He would not admit it, but he agreed.

Elladan seemed to understand this, checked his watch. "It's getting late. We should go, Elrohir."

"Come by tomorrow, will you?" asked Glorfindel.

"Of course," Elrohir assured him, standing.

Glorfindel nodded, followed them to the door. "Stop by anytime."

"Will it be open?"

Glorfindel grinned, went to the coat rack, pulled a key from the pocket of his green cloak.

"Here," he said, pushing it into Elrohir's hand. "It's my spare, keep it- I don't need it."

"You sure?" asked Elladan skeptically.

"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then he was alone again. The penthouse seemed to grow without the twins in it, and he suddenly felt very small. Alyaran trotted to his side, nudged his hand with his wet nose.

"There go the two I hold most dear," Glorfindel said to him. Alyaran's tail thumped against the wall. "Yes, yes, I'll feed you. Half a moment."

With Alyaran fed, he showered, dressed, returned to the sitting room. The fire was dying slowly in the grate. He took a book from the opposite wall, a telling of the fall of Númenor, sat down to read in his favorite chair.

He did not read; he watched the firelight flicker on Alyaran's golden fur as he lay in front of the hearth, stretched on a rug. Outside, night had fallen, few stars shone through the orange glare of city lights. In the back of his mind, he began to recognize Elladan and Elrohir's coming for what it was; the beginning of the end.

(The Seventh Avenue Apartments that Glorfindel lives in are completely fictitious)

Thanks for reading! Review Responses:

Kazbels: Phew! I was really worried about the Elvish cat names, so I'm glad to hear that you liked them! Glorfindel needed a friend; I think he'd associate better with the elderly rather than younger people.

Neoinean: Thanks! Yep, Northern Scandinavia. You've definitely got it! Blonde, pale, light eyes- it would be an obvious explanation. :P

Aerlalaith: Mrs. Rosenthal won't be going away- don't worry. Glorfindel is much to nice to stop visiting her. You can't wait for more? You have no idea how happy that makes me feel!!

Erestor: That was the longest review I've ever gotten...Thank you! Latin student? Hurrah! I'm only in Latin 2 :P so I haven't been enlightened about this "Xanthus" name. I'd like to use it a little later (he's got to change his name as he moves), if it's alright with you...?