Memories
The young herald of Gil-galad screwed his eyes shut as he lay in the dark tent. He dove deep into the darkest corners of his mind, trying to remember. The men were celebrating Elendil's birthday today, and Elrond had had his father on his mind all day.
Why can I not remember? he asked himself, frustrated. Was I so young that I have no memory of him?
Suddenly a flash of remembrance came to him. He and his twin brother, sitting on someone's knee, playing with the dark hair that cascaded down around the man's shoulders, playing soldiers with that same someone in their nursery late one afternoon.
He concentrated harder, willing himself to remember. But then the only ones he could see were Maglor, Gil-Galad, and Cirdan the Shipwright. He had many memories, but few of them were happy, and those that were happy were also dim and unclear.