-Note- This is it. Enormous thank-yous to everyone who read and reviewed- without you, this would still be a one-shot. This chapter is for you.
-Disclaimer- Please see chapter 1.
A Friday
Years went by, one, two, ten…He moved from his apartment in the city to a small house in the suburbs. It had a garden, and while it was decidedly less beautiful than Celeborn's, Glorfindel was proud of it. In his older days, Alyaran had liked to sun himself in the backyard, a plastic dog bone under his front paws.
Now, the backyard was empty, the food and water bowls by the door in the kitchen were gathering dust, the small house was silent during the day. Glorfindel drove to work each morning in his old, silver Mercedes, and did not come back until late in the evening. He worked at a different company, now, under a different name.
But today he had taken the day off. It was Autumn again, and the season was at its finest. A crisp breeze fluttered long, gauzy curtains, morning sun slanted through the window. On the mantle in the empty sitting room were a number of pictures: a golden-haired dog, an old woman, two identical brothers, a forest lake, a laughing woman in a red coat.
In all, it would have been a peaceful scene, had not strange and ominous muttering been coming from the kitchen.
A tall Elf leaned over a cookbook laden with recipes, his floury index finger pointed on a yellowing index card with Mrs. Rosenthal's Cookies in bold print on the top.
Glorfindel sighed, surveyed the bowl of cookie mix before him. He did not remember her cookies being quite this color…or having such a bland taste…or powdery in texture…
He seized the carton of milk, poured some into the bowl. Probably too much milk, he realized too late. He stirred halfheartedly, ignoring a splash on the front of his shirt. He gave up, proceeded to shape the cookies onto the sheet.
He slipped on a pair of oven mitts, put the cookie sheet in the oven. He flicked on the oven light, contemplated his cookies as they baked.
Apparently, spaghetti was not out of his reach; cookies, however, were far too much to ask of his skill. He watched with faint amusement as the watery dough had spread in the oven, until one enormous, blackened cookie was all that remained on the baking sheet and drips lay burning at the bottom.
Whenit was done, he summoned up the courage to try a slice of the cookies-gone-wrong. It was foul. He leaned over the garbage can, and in a fit of laughter, spat it out.
He sat back in a chair at his table, chuckling at the monster cookie before him. It pleased him, somehow, to know that some things would never change.
That evening, as the air cooled, he went to his coat closet, wrapped himself in a ratty, green cloak. He sat on his porch, swinging in the hanging chair, looking out on the empty, residential street. The sky was clear, but street lamps obscured most of the stars.
Clematis grew up the porch columns, swayed in the wind. A car meandered down the road.
He put his feet up on the railing andleaned back.
(l)
He received a postcard that Autumn, from a place on the sea. It wasn't in Elvish.
We are ready.
He held in shaking hands, breathed in, out. In, out.
We are ready.
That very week, he stopped his rental contract, stepped down from his company position. He packed brown bag lunch into his car, set a book – The Fall of Numenor- in the passenger seat, drove west, to the coast.
It was Friday, at last.
It was Friday, thank the Valar, and he was going home.
(l)
The End
Thanks for reading! Review responses:
Kazbels: Don't worry about it! Thank you for all of the reviews- I always look forward to reading them.
Starlit jewel: Don't worry, don't worry! I am of the opinion that Glorfindel ought to be a silly bachelor, unless the author can write romance very well. Don't we all wish he could be ours? :P
Melannen Halfelven: Thanks! I'll definitely keep writing- especially about Glorfindel. :)
Avalon Estel: :D Thank you! I'm sorry this may have ended too soon for you, but I wanted to get Glorfindel home and happy. :) Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews!
Crystal113: Did you know you were the only one who caught the ink on the forearm (or at least, told me)? But yes, she is. I wanted Glorfindel to be friends with someone who knew as much as he did about life and death, and I can't really think of anyone better than Mrs. Rosenthal.
Lady Lunas: What kind of tea do I like? Hmm…orange & spice and regular, I think, but I haven't tried many other kinds out there. There was quite a time gap between this chapter and the last- I put it at about 50 years, but it's fairly inconsequential. Did he tell Ruth anything? Maybe I'll elaborate on that someday, but I do know right now that Glorfindel's got a picture of her on his mantle.
Unsung Heroine: The Giver is by Lois Lowery- kind of a dis-utopian book set in a "big-brother" society. I'm curious- what's Spaghetti Napoli?
Ellie in ElfPajamas: Thanks! I hope the ending hasn't disappointed you!
Stuntz: Thanks! Well, he could be Maglor, just like he could be Daeron, or another Elf, or just another panhandler in the subway…:P You decide! Thank you for being such a loyal reviewer! I enjoy hearing from you!
Joou Himeko Dah: Yes, poor Ruth. She'll be okay, though. Thank you!
Randa-Chan: Thank you! Yes, she was asleep when he told her. I think, if she had been awake, she wouldn't have been ruffled at all by her Gordon being an Elf. She's an unflappable lady, Mrs. Rosenthal. I've grown very fond of her, and the last chapter was hard to write. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
TrinityTheSheDevil: Thank you! I went to your website (very pretty! :), and yes, it's fine with me. Thanks very much for asking me- I really appreciate it. And thank youfor the lovely recommendation! :)