LP: WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
BAM
LP runs into random wall
Glorfindel: HA!
Gil- Galad and Elrond: LP does not own us.
Elrond: All she owns is a rather large bruise on her head.
It was one day until the Gates of Summer and already Elrond had noted the decline in the mood of the normally jovial Glorfindel. Concerned, Elrond had asked for advice from Gil-Galad about the advisor's poor manner. The only advice that Gil-Galad had to offer was to be there for the blond elf that was obviously suffering.
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Elrond sat, well sprawled, in what was his favorite chair. He was supposed to be outside enjoying the warmth of the sun and the light breeze, but he was too plagued with guilt over the blond elf's misery. Speaking of blond elves, said blond elf was arranged out beneath the boughs of his favorite tree. His body lay in such a way that Elrond was sure it could not be good for the spinal chord. His arms lay stretched away from him, one hand immersed in golden locks, the other clutching a sword until his knuckles were white. Elrond watched, as the elf seemed to go through a fit of sorts, his head rocking back and forth quickly while tears rolled down his face.
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No immediate answer came to the advisor turned healer. Usually lying upside down gave him some idea as well as a rush of blood to the head. Slowly and with no small amount of regret the young elf sat up. He sighed as feeling returned to the lower half of his body, that's when it hit him. Grinning almost evilly in a way that was reminiscent of Glorfindel himself, Elrond hurried away to make his plans.
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The night found Elrond passed out in an undignified heap upon his bead. So tired was he, that he had not even bothered to change his clothes before tumbling down onto the downy mattress. His endeavor had been successful, in his opinion, and had he been in the state of mind to celebrate, he would have done so.
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Glorfindel watched the rising of the sun with a rather nostalgic air about him. He remembered it all, the screams of the people, the blood, the fire, everything seemed to haunt him. He was tired, so tired, for he was unable to sleep for fear of his memories, unable to close his eyes lest he see it again, and unable to relax and be caught unaware. He was drawn back into himself as he remembered but was rudely, in his mind, drawn out of thought by a scream of horror or maybe it was a bark of laughter. Shrugging, the blonde elf grabbed up his sword and headed down to the courtyard to find out what the disturbance was.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Glorfindel could hear parts of their conversations.
"How could someone do such a thing?'
"I think its quite funny really. Who do you think did it?'
"I will be my hair that it was Lord Glorfindel."
"Want to buy a beaver?"
The sight that he was greeted with would be one he would never forget. His first thought was that Gil-Galad was hanging by his feet from the roof of the structure. His second thought was 'that's a really good doll. Life sized too.'
And then he laughed.
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Elrond watched the scene below with a large smile on his face. Even if it was at the high king's expense it still felt good to hear his long time friend laugh. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Knowing whom it was, Elrond turned slowly, ready to meet his demise by the hand of his good friend. It was not hard to imagine all the gruesome things he could be put through. Carefully he looked up into the eyes of Gil-Galad. And then, "That was a very original idea, Elrond. Much better then the horse manure prank you and Glorfindel pulled."
"Thank you. I think."
Smiling warmly, Gil- Galad looked back down to the crowd, "It is good too hear laughter again even if it is at my expense. Next time use someone else."
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And that was the story of how Glorfindel came to be in possession of a life like replica of the high king, which he still has. It's hidden in the armory for anyone who would care to look.
A/N: I'm alive! I got bored so I wrote this. Huggles computer.