Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for this work.
Chapter 2
A Missing Sword
While the citizens of Imladris were outside in the courtyard, Elrond walked aimlessly along the corridors of the Last Homely House, annoyed that Glorfindel was delaying lunch with his horse-stealing inquiry. He wandered into the armoury and reached out to pick up his favourite weapon: a sword that had once belonged to his grandmother, Idril, but it wasn't there.
He waved his hand back and forth through the empty space where the sword should have been, but the combined evidence of his hand and his eyes was overwhelming. It was definitely gone. Elrond pondered for a few moments, trying to remember if he might have lent it to someone in the century or so since he had last used it, but he was certain that he hadn't, so he set off for the forge, in case one of the blacksmiths was using it for a model.
After a swift look around the smithy, Elrond walked up to Glorfindel, who was about to let all the other elves go to their belated meal. "My grandmother's sword is not in its proper place. Do you suppose that your horse-thief might also have taken a priceless seven-thousand-year-old blade?"
"I wouldn't put it past her!" Glorfindel bounded over to the hapless stable-elf and dragged her back to where Elrond stood. "Did she take Idril's sword?" he demanded.
"If you mean the fancy sword with the writing on it, then yes, she did."
"Ah, so you have already identified the culprit!" said Elrond.
"Indeed we have Elrond," replied Glorfindel, "but you must prepare yourself for some bad news."
"Don't prevaricate," snapped Elrond, "just tell me who it is!"
"As you wish. Your daughter is responsible for these thefts."
Elrond briefly considered shouting with rage, but quickly realised that it would be most undignified. He settled instead for a melancholy sigh. "I am at my wits' end with that child. First she insists that she is going to marry a human and become mortal, and now this. I don't think I can cope with any more of her outrageous behavior. I shall be forced to send her to Valinor to stay with her mother. If only I had never let Arwen go to Lothlorien; Galadriel is such a bad influence on her."