Just a little angst to tide you over. There isn't much point to this chapter except to build for the next. Thanks for reviewing, guys!
Glorfindel regretted telling Legolas anything the next morning. In his shame, he laid abed until the absolute last minute (or last five minutes) until he had to get dressed to get to the council Lord Elrond was holding with Legolas and his father's three lesser advisors. It was something on the matter of trade, and he groaned with annoyance as he struggled to find his notes somewhere on the mess that was his desk. He could not keep anything from getting cluttered lately and it was irking him. He was usually abnormally neat, even when compared with Erestor.
The blonde elf left his rooms and headed towards the small council chamber which was only used for small matters such as trade with another elven kingdom or when Lord Elrond was fed up with the trivial advisors that he only kept because they managed to come up with decent ideas every so often. He exhaled in amusement and turned the corner.
He spotted Legolas down the hallway, heading in the same direction as he was and he winced in embarrassment. How could he have been so stupid as to let everything that had been bothering him out to Legolas? Of course, Legolas was wise beyond his young years and he would not tell a soul, even if tortured and threatened with death, so deep was his loyalty, but it was the fact he knew. Legolas knew of his inward struggle and his agony. Legolas knew, and that was not a pleasant thought.
Glorfindel waited a moment after Legolas had entered the council chamber before continuing in his walk. He let out a ragged sigh and rubbed his temples. He had slept for less than two hours, only upon hearing the cheerful birdsong at dawn did he managed to grab a fitful nap. He blinked his tiredness from his eyes and entered the council chamber, seeing only Erestor and Legolas, both of whom were already seated.
He took his regular seat next to Erestor and placed down his notes, looking over what the main topic of the trade talks were: protection of trade routes through the mountains. Three of their attempts to get through the Misty Mountains had been attacked and King Thranduil wished Elrond to send some of his warriors to protect the pass, while Lord Elrond wished to point out that the Orc attacks were increasing around Imladris and none of their warriors could be spared. Thankfully, Thranduil had sent Legolas who was calm-tempered and willing to negotiate, unlike his brothers Arador and Valandil.
Elrond entered, accompanied by the three advisors from Mirkwood and the meeting began. Glorfindel found he could not concentrate and only answered questions when directly asked. He was lucky Erestor had jumped in and answered one question about how many warriors were on active duty through the week and continued to talk about how he had seen the warriors exhausted or Glorfindel would have slipped and shown disrespect to Lord Elrond, the Mirkwood advisors and Legolas.
He let out an inaudible groan as a headache came on. It throbbed through his brain and his stomach began to ache with hunger. He hadn't eaten much in the last couple of weeks and he hadn't gone to breakfast. He rubbed his left temple and wished for the meeting to be over.
"Shall we continue tomorrow, my lords?" Erestor suggested after Legolas had made a final point, which Glorfindel hadn't caught. Four murmurs of agreement came from the Mirkwood side and Glorfindel was the first one out of the door. Thankfully it was because he was closest to it, or he would have seemed overeager.
His head continued to throb as he stopped at a window. He leaned against the wall beside it, gasping in the fresh air. A strange sensation was running through his body and limbs as he forced himself to calm down. The same voices as the night before began to accuse him of failing and disloyalty once more. They mocked his fear and his inability to control his memories and reign in his emotions.
Where is the stoic warrior of old, Glorfindel? They whispered. You are worthless. You cannot even control yourself. It is your fault we are dead. It is your fault we haunt you from the grave.