-Note- A harrowing, 2-day history test this week will effectively cause my brain cells to faint in exhaustion, but I the next chapter will (or had better be) be posted sometime next week. I am debating making this story longer by taking Glorfindel to visit Celeborn- the alternative, of course, is either putting that plot bunny in its own story (a 'prequel', if you will), or cutting it our entirely. I haven't decided yet, so if you have any insight into this, please let me know! Also: this chapter begins on the same Monday last chapter ended on.

­-Disclaimer- Please see chapter 1. The little boy and his mother are OCs, but the little boy is named for Alexander the Great (I was desperate for a name, and we happened to be studying him in a class of mine :P). Mrs. Rosenthal is also an OC.

An Errand

He opened his refrigerator once more, as if hoping that his groceries would materialize while the door swung.

Unfortunately, it was still empty.

Ah.

Wait- a package of cheese?

Ah. Molding cheese.

He groaned, cursed his lethargy.

A trip to the grocery store was in order.

Alyaran whined, brought his nose against Glorfindel's bare foot. "Why can't you see to the food?" Glorfindel asked.

Alyaran ignored him.

Groaning with unabashed immaturity, he shut the door, slipped on a pair of shoes, took the car keys, and headed out the door.

The supermarket was busy with men and women on their way home from work; even Glorfindel had not had time to change from his customary suit and tie.

He did not fool himself; he made a beeline for the frozen foods aisle, took various boxes from the freezer shelves. He stopped for several cartons of milk, and, as a second thought, a box of noodles.

Ah. That hadn't been so painful.

He made his way to the check-out, chose the shortest line. Before him, a hassled-looking woman was putting her groceries on the cashier's counter.

He felt a poke against his knee, looked immediately downward.

"Hewo." A dark haired boy, no more than three years of age, was gazing intently at him from wide, black eyes. One hand was grasped firmly around the bars of his mother's shopping cart; the other was halfway inside his mouth.

"Hello."

The boy stared.

"What's your name?" Glorfindel asked, feeling self-conscious.

The boy stuffed his hand further into his mouth, in a way that reminded Glorfindel of another little boy- long ago.

"Come, Alexander." His mother- the woman in front of him- turned to him, pushing the cart slowly forward, glancing apologetically at Glorfindel. The boy did not move. Sighing, she scooped him into her arms, held him, pushed the cart away. The little boy looked back at him over her shoulder, stretched out a free hand to him (the other, still firmly lodged between his teeth).

Glorfindel looked away, bought his groceries. It had always been children who noticed him- who saw through the everyday.

He returned to the apartment without incident, restocked his freezer with dinners. He heated up a meal- chicken, with grayish-brown sauce- and ate in silence, Alyaran lying at his feet.

(l)

He ducked out of work early the next day, remembering Mrs. Rosenthal's appointment. He made it back to the apartment by 3:30, and they left together for the doctor's office.

It was a twenty-minute drive, long enough for his car to smell of cat, short enough where neither felt pressed to speak. It was, after all, only an annual 'check-up', but she was too elderly to drive- she rarely left her apartment. Her daughter, upon her last visit several weeks ago, had desperately asked for Glorfindel's assistance in transportation, and he had willingly agreed to help.

He saw her into the third floor office, departed for the coffee stand in the hospital's atrium. It was, to his dismay, closed; he spent the next hour-and-a-half sitting on a bench, reading a day-old newspaper, trying to ignore passer-by.

He gave up, returned to the waiting room. Mrs. Rosenthal was there, patiently embroidering some sort of cap.

She looked up, smiled. "I haven't been waiting long, dear. Are you ready?"

He nodded, she folded the green fabric into her purse, and they left. Down the elevator, into the parking garage, onto the streets, congested with rush-hour traffic.

"Has your friend gone already?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "He left yesterday."

"I am always sad to see my children leave, but I know they'll be back."

"I'll see him again."

"Now, where did you say he lives?"

Glorfindel thought a moment. "He hasn't had a real home in many years. He travels."

"Ah. A free spirit, is he? When I was young, I saw a bit of the world as well."

Glorfindel smiled. "Oh, he's seen a bit. More than his fair share, probably."

They said nothing more after that. Glorfindel walked her to her door, she laughed about feeling like a young lady again- being walked home from a date. Elrohir greeted them, rubbing against their legs. He stooped and held him, knowing he would later have to pick clumps of gray hair off his coat.

"Call me if you need anything, Mrs. Rosenthal," he said. "I'm right upstairs."

"I will. You take care."

He set Elrohir on the floor, suddenly missing the real Elrohir.

"Good bye, Gordon."

The door closed. He put his hands in his pocket, stared thoughtfully at the brass knocker.

"Good bye, Mrs. Rosenthal," he said softly.

He returned to his apartment, feeling lonely, and spent the rest of the evening sitting before the fireplace in his overstuffed chair, reading a book- the fall of Númenor. The pages were faded and stiff with age, and he realized that he would have to rewrite it soon.

Then, he thought against it- there were surely copies of it in Aman, and why should he preserve a history that had been forgotten, exchanged for myth? His people had been reduced to fairytale creatures: Dryads, Nymphs, Hyades- shadowy figures in children's stories.

He cast the book aside, dug beneath the cushions for the television remote. He couldn't find it. He sighed, went to the kitchen, took a sheaf of papers from a drawer.

He picked up the book, began to recopy it. Men may have forgotten his world, but he would not.

(l)

Thanks for reading! Review Responses:

Karushna5: Will the twins be coming back soon? I can't really tell you if they will appear in person or not- but they haven't completely left the story. As for other Elves, most have gone West- some have stayed, living like Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir. Others are living with Celeborn and Thranduil in an undisclosed location. :P

Dark Borg Drone: I agree- reviews are lovely! Unfortunately, I'm not familiar with either "Nightmare on Elm Street" of "Mummies Alive!" I'm very sorry- maybe a future story? I'm afraid I'm not well-versed in fandom.

Erestor: Well, I hope it's not an overdose of poignancy. I wouldn't want readers to be sobbing their eyes out over their keyboards...maybe... :P Well, I'm not saying if they're going to DIE. I didn't think I implied that, but since I did... Nah, I wouldn't kill them off in this story. I still need them. And I don't want to be killed a frenzied twin fan. I am a frenzied (or not-so-frenzied) twin fan.

Noldo: I would be far too embarrassed to ever read such an "adult" story. :) I love your writing- you make the humor/serious transition very smoothly. Exams? I hope they went well! Alyaran isn't a 'Huan' because he's too stupid (in a nice way, though- like my dog) to be one. I always thought Huan should be a bit above the antics of the average golden retriever.

Kazbels: Thank you! I'm not sure where Celeborn would come in either- I've been turning it over all week. Now, I'm a bit more inclined to incorporating it into this story- or not at all. I would like to meet other Elves, so if Celeborn doesn't feature, someone else will. Target dates? Absolutely. I'm a student- deadlines have a profound affect upon me. As a student, I am also a master procrastinator- I set a time period last week, between Saturday and Tuesday, in which to write/finish and post the chapter. This week, the chapter was finished by Saturday- I never had time to post. Rather than setting a single day, it helps for me to set a bracket of days aside in which my story becomes a higher priority. It keeps the pressure on and helps me stay focused. This is the first story that I'm posting as I write- doing so makes it more demanding and adds and motivation. I admire your drive- I can't tell you how many stories of mine, original and fan fiction, have fallen apart for lack of incentive at the 40 page mark. I had planned to post a long story earlier this year. I made sure I would always stay ahead of the posting schedule to allow for some leeway- I think this is the best plan.

Nerwen: Thank you for reviewing! Yes, the twins are off! Reminds me of a race or something... :P Here's another chapter, with another sometime later next week.

Sangfroid: Thank you! I love dogs- I have one- and Alyaran has been the most fun character to write. I'm glad you liked Mrs. Rosenthal- the human interaction is what I spend a lot of time on. A cat named Vaire? That's great! I've always wanted to name a future dog after a Tolkien character. Haven't decided which one, though!

Neoinean: :D It's just our Glorfindel isolating himself again. /sigh/ Poor Glorfindel. At least he has Alyaran! :P

Stuntz: Thanks! The next chapter should appear next week somewhere around Friday.