Review responses:
CANTORA: I suppose it is. I haven't really thought of it. It's just supposed to be
some random time. But oh well; you asked for Gilly, I give you Gilly! BUAH!
ROCHWEN: *sigh* Ah, the ever-simple mind of Dev . . . *rolls eyes and grins*
(AN- Sorry for the shortness of this chappie, but I promise the next one will be
much much longer . . . and better. *wink*)
Chapter Nine
Glorfindel softly knocked on Gilraeth's door, his blue eyes full of concern. The boy had not been to breakfast, or the mid-day meal. It was not often that he missed a meal. Usually the pen-neth was early, and always quite hungry when he showed up. But today he had not even been out of his quarters at all.
"Gilraeth?" Glorfindel called. There was silence, and then the sound of rustling sheets caught his ears.
"Come in," replied a quiet voice.
Glorfindel entered his room to find Gilraeth sitting halfway up in bed, the covers drawn around him tightly. His brow was damp with sweat, Glorfindel noticed he moved closer, and his face was pale. Glorfindel felt the boy's forehead. It was warm, but nothing more than a low grade fever. However, the Elf captain was still concerned as he took a seat in a chair beside the bed.
"Do you feel all right, Gilraeth?" he asked of the boy.
"Maybe a little tired, yes," Gilraeth replied, "but nothing more."
"Are you hungry?"
He shook his head in response.
"I'll bring you some tea anyway. You could do with a bit of something in your stomach."
Glorfindel stood up and walked out of Gilraeth's room, closing the door behind him. How could the boy possibly have fallen ill, when it is impossible for Elves to become sick themselves? Surely he could not have contracted something from Imaldris.
Yet he did not dwell on the matter for long. Gilraeth would be back on his feet in a few days, Glorfindel reasoned. Whatever this was would not last long.
As Glorfindel was returning with the tea, he spotted Elrohir and Elrond walking together in the gardens a few stories bellow. They were enjoying each other's company, and Elrohir seemed to nearly be himself again. His frame had filled out to its original form, and his face was round and had regained its color. All in all, Elrohir had made a nice recovery.
Smiling to himself, Glorfindel walked on until he came once again to Gilraeth's door. He knocked again, but this time there was no answer. Glorfindel went in and found the boy asleep. The tea would lose its potency if left to sit, so Glorfindel made his exit and went on to the Hall of Fire.
Entering the familiar, cozy room, Glorfindel sat in an armchair near the fire and stared out the window. He sipped the tea thoughtfully, his mind wandering.
He thought of the twins together, years before, when he was in charge of part of their teaching. He schooled them in the art of horseback riding, at which Elrohir was a natural. Elladan usually had a spill or two during a lesson.
He also taught them sword fighting, where the tables turned. Elladan had quickly picked up the skill, while his brother usually came away with a few cuts at the end of a session.
Glorfindel smiled and set the empty cup upon the saucer and set his eyes to the fire. The flames danced, and the wood popped and glowed. A feeling of great peace was upon the captain as he settled back into the armchair.
It was the first true peace he'd felt since Elladan's death.
CANTORA: I suppose it is. I haven't really thought of it. It's just supposed to be
some random time. But oh well; you asked for Gilly, I give you Gilly! BUAH!
ROCHWEN: *sigh* Ah, the ever-simple mind of Dev . . . *rolls eyes and grins*
(AN- Sorry for the shortness of this chappie, but I promise the next one will be
much much longer . . . and better. *wink*)
Chapter Nine
Glorfindel softly knocked on Gilraeth's door, his blue eyes full of concern. The boy had not been to breakfast, or the mid-day meal. It was not often that he missed a meal. Usually the pen-neth was early, and always quite hungry when he showed up. But today he had not even been out of his quarters at all.
"Gilraeth?" Glorfindel called. There was silence, and then the sound of rustling sheets caught his ears.
"Come in," replied a quiet voice.
Glorfindel entered his room to find Gilraeth sitting halfway up in bed, the covers drawn around him tightly. His brow was damp with sweat, Glorfindel noticed he moved closer, and his face was pale. Glorfindel felt the boy's forehead. It was warm, but nothing more than a low grade fever. However, the Elf captain was still concerned as he took a seat in a chair beside the bed.
"Do you feel all right, Gilraeth?" he asked of the boy.
"Maybe a little tired, yes," Gilraeth replied, "but nothing more."
"Are you hungry?"
He shook his head in response.
"I'll bring you some tea anyway. You could do with a bit of something in your stomach."
Glorfindel stood up and walked out of Gilraeth's room, closing the door behind him. How could the boy possibly have fallen ill, when it is impossible for Elves to become sick themselves? Surely he could not have contracted something from Imaldris.
Yet he did not dwell on the matter for long. Gilraeth would be back on his feet in a few days, Glorfindel reasoned. Whatever this was would not last long.
As Glorfindel was returning with the tea, he spotted Elrohir and Elrond walking together in the gardens a few stories bellow. They were enjoying each other's company, and Elrohir seemed to nearly be himself again. His frame had filled out to its original form, and his face was round and had regained its color. All in all, Elrohir had made a nice recovery.
Smiling to himself, Glorfindel walked on until he came once again to Gilraeth's door. He knocked again, but this time there was no answer. Glorfindel went in and found the boy asleep. The tea would lose its potency if left to sit, so Glorfindel made his exit and went on to the Hall of Fire.
Entering the familiar, cozy room, Glorfindel sat in an armchair near the fire and stared out the window. He sipped the tea thoughtfully, his mind wandering.
He thought of the twins together, years before, when he was in charge of part of their teaching. He schooled them in the art of horseback riding, at which Elrohir was a natural. Elladan usually had a spill or two during a lesson.
He also taught them sword fighting, where the tables turned. Elladan had quickly picked up the skill, while his brother usually came away with a few cuts at the end of a session.
Glorfindel smiled and set the empty cup upon the saucer and set his eyes to the fire. The flames danced, and the wood popped and glowed. A feeling of great peace was upon the captain as he settled back into the armchair.
It was the first true peace he'd felt since Elladan's death.