A/N: I found a publisher! They're called "Herodias", and I'm planning on sending them the proposal sometime in February. Oh, yay! Thanks for all your encouragement and well wishes, guys! And I just realized the other day that this was uncanonical chronologically. Elrond and Celebrían were married in year 100 TA, and the twins were born in 139 TA, but here I have Celebrían pregnant in the first year of their marriage. Not that it matters to me, but in case of purists – yes, I'm aware.
Glorfindel made his way into the less accessible rooms of Imladris, ancient armories that stored the weapons used in the Siege of Mordor, no longer needed in such times of peace. His hip had felt strangely light for weeks after he'd stopped wearing his sword, and he'd put it away. Though he was a powerful warrior and had rarely been wounded in battle (not including his death at the hands of the Balrog), he never enjoyed fighting, so he was glad to finally leave his blade in its sheath.
He found his way to one of the armories – and was surprised to see the door standing ajar. Careful and suspicious, he stepped silently into the room. Another Elf stood by the opposite wall, grasping awkwardly the hilt of a long sword.
It was Lindir.
"Lindir, what are you doing?" Glorfindel asked, merely confused.
The young harpist turned to him in shock and dropped the sword. It clattered loudly against the stone. "Lord Glorfindel!" he gasped.
"Why are you here?" Glorfindel asked quietly. It puzzled him to see the dark-haired Elf in such a place.
"I didn't touch anything," Lindir said quickly. Then, he looked down at the sword. "Well, I did touch something, but I didn't hurt anything."
"I don't mean to sound scolding," Glorfindel replied, taking another step into the room. "I only wish to know why you came here."
"I was curious. I wished to know the feel the of a sword in my hands."
Glorfindel closed the door behind him and picked up the sword, hanging it back up on the wall. "Never wish to hold a sword, harpist."
"I meant no harm – " Lindir began.
"And you caused none," Glorfindel replied. "But one such as you, a musician, should never feel need to carry a sword."
"You carried a sword," Lindir countered.
"That is because I'm a warrior," Glorfindel retorted.
"And why are you here, Lord Glorfindel?" the younger Elf asked, sarcasm in his voice.
"I wished for some solitude."
"But here, of all places?" Lindir asked.
"I come here after I've had particularly bad nightmares," Glorfindel said.
"About what?"
"Battles."
"But one as brave as you?" Lindir asked incredulously.
Glorfindel smiled wryly. "I'm afraid so."
Lindir sat down on a pile of shields. "Can you tell me about some?"
"I'd rather not."
"The valiant Glorfindel Goldtress fears to speak of his warrior days?" Lindir taunted.
"Ha. It was these golden tresses that got me killed the first time."
"Now that is interesting," Lindir chuckled. "How did that happen?"
"Well, when that Balrog fell, it clutched my hair and dragged me down with it," Glorfindel said, grimacing at the memory. He could almost feel the wrench of its burning claws again.
There was silence for a while as Glorfindel brooded and Lindir absorbed his words. Then, Lindir asked, "Why are you reluctant to speak of battles, if you are a warrior?"
"War, no matter how glorious your ballads make it sound, is a terrible thing," Glorfindel said. "You sing of the heroes and their heroic deeds, but you do not sing of the bloodshed, the death, the destruction." He pinned Lindir with a hard stare. "I fight, harpist, when it is needed. In times of war, though I think violence is the greatest wrong of all, one must protect their people and guard their homes."
"I see," Lindir said.
"No, you do not see. None who have lived in such peace could ever see. I've lost friends in battle that were dearer to me than myself. King Gil-galad, for one. Did you know that despite his military renown, he despised war from the bottom of his heart?"
"I did not know," Lindir replied, his eyes dropping to the floor.
"Though many Elves look down on Men, know this, Lindir. Men are many times worthy creatures. I feel that killing them is like kinslaying. Just because they are not of your race does not mean they are evil. Even Finrod befriended men. And war, no matter how just the cause, is a horrible thing. To kill another living creature is like killing oneself, unless they are Orcs, or a creature as foul. Yet it hurts me to kill Orcs, for they were once as we are, and were captured by Morgoth and tortured into the loathsome things they are." He looked at Lindir pointedly. "Do you understand?"
Lindir nodded.
"Do not always believe your ballads and songs, Lindir," Glorfindel cautioned. "And may you never wish to hold a sword again." He smiled at the minstrel. "Your hands are far too fair."
Lindir returned the smile.
And that night, he only sang of peace.
In case anyone is wondering, Glorfindel's views on war are my own (excluding the part about the Orcs). This author's note is not G-rated, but I believe for a good reason. It needs said. So many people watch the news, hear that such-and-such people died, and say, "At least it isn't us." Or they watch a violent movie, cheering or shrugging. Sure, it's not you, it's just a movie, but if you live in America, you should check out the foreign press. See some pictures of REAL war. When you see mass graves dug because so many people died in a tsunami that they can't even have proper burials, when a five-year-old is covered in his parents' blood after they're shot to death, when an infant is murdered when a shrapnel hits her while she's in her backyard, and people are immune to it, there is something seriously wrong with the world. I hope that those of you who agree with me will lend their prayers that this may one day end, and if you don't, well, wake up and smell the roses, pal. It's time for a reality check. Death is death, and to kill another is a terrible thing. May Mankind one day come to its senses, because we are our own greatest enemy.
Reviewer Responses:
Malara: That's quite interesting about the monkeys. I usually just say "shoot" and "dang". I hate cursing. Thank you again for all the compliments. I think Erestor would get flustered when he couldn't find his work, and Glorfy would be the cooler one. As for Elrond with bunny ears, hopping around? (touches Malara's forehead) Are you all right? HA HA! That's hilarious! As for updating, here you go, and thanks so much for the well wishes!
Kalayna: Ah, trumpet seems like torture. But then, so is writer's block. Capture the plot bunnies! Hit 'em with all you've got!
Miss Piratess: (blushes) Aw, thanks. You're really sweet!
Ithiliel Silverquill: Rejoicing? Wow! Thank you so much! This chapter is for you, since you asked for it. As for the twins, they're coming!
swee-haret179: Yes, mallorn are beautiful, aren't they? Thank you!
