Thanks for all the kind reviews!
It was storming again in Imladris. Glorfindel sat at a table in the library, doing some light reading after having finished his duties. In front of him sat a book on the history of Middle Earth and he was skimming through, trying to locate his favorite anecdotes and battles. He hummed a lay that was often sung in Gondolin underneath his breath, not even realizing it. He heard a cry in the distance, and smiled to himself. Estel was a darling addition to Imladris.
Glorfindel would not lie to himself. He knew the small babe had brought some semblance of love and peace into his life, but one so small could only do so much. He let out a slow sigh as Elladan and Elrohir walked into the room, and in the elder twin's arms lay the child. The golden haired advisor looked up and smiled, turning to the next page.
Colors swam around him. Red and black mixed in with the rich colors of the library. Images of fire and death swirled about his vision as he looked at the illustration of the Balrog.
Erestor walked to him in concern and put a hand on his shoulder, meaning to calm him. Glorfindel felt his touch, but it was neither comforting nor familiar. It was the fiery touch of the Balrog, burning his skin and destroying his being. He gave a low moan, for it was all his throat would allow, and tumbled from his chair. His memories blocked any reality from passing through and for a time, he existed in his own world and Erestor, the twins and Estel ceased to exist.
"Elrohir, get your father." Erestor ordered sharply. "Elladan, take your brother to his room and stay with him."
The twins hesitated. "GO!" They disappeared within a moment.
Erestor pulled his robe from his tall, wiry frame and made it into a makeshift pillow for his friend. "Hush, mellon nin…" He whispered.
Elrond slipped through the door, his face concerned and strained. He knelt down, biding Erestor to step aside. The elven lord took Glorfindel into his arms and rocked his slowly, chanting words softly and the look of pain almost disappeared from the blonde elf. Elrond lifted Glorfindel easily into his arms and stood up. He looked down at his friend and advisor with sympathy. He knew what memories haunted the famed Balrog Slayer.
"Is he well?" Erestor asked.
"No." Elrond admitted. "And I doubt he will be."
"What?" Elladan asked, as both he and Elrohir entered the library. "What do you mean?"
"Memories of a past he wishes to forget haunt him. That is all I will say." Elrond passed the mumbling Balrog Slayer to Erestor. "Take him to the infirmary. Hannon le."
"Eru save him." The elven lord whispered into the silence broken by the crash of thunder and the flash of lightning across the raging sky.