The knock came late at night, but the time when he would have known immediately who stood at his door was long gone. With a soft sigh, Glorfindel put down his pen and climbed to his feet, ignoring the long creases his breeches had adopted while he sat at the table. He had not been expecting anyone that evening and as such, his home was a mess and his hair left loose and free about his features, tangling about the aristocratic definitions of his face and the solid planes of his shoulders.

"I'm coming," he called out, kicking his boots beneath the table before shaking his head at the futility of straightening up. Another sigh left his lips and he moved to the door, slender hands wrenching it open with the hint of exasperation that laced his bones. The person behind it, however, was one he had not expected. The elf lord blinked once at her, his heart almost stopping as he took in the slender figure.

"Idril?" Glorfindel questioned in shock, both at her unexpected appearance and at her state of dress. It was painfully hard to take in the rounded curves that motherhood had graced her with, the full breasts and gently sloping hips that he had once known intimately.

Her lapis eyes looked up at him with worry from beneath sooty lashes and she slipped inside without invitation. He would have spoken then, but the look on her face silenced him until he had closed the door and pulled out a chair for her to take her seat. Glorfindel moved without thought to prepare a glass of her favourite wine, a blend that wasn't particularly his own choice, but that he had grown so used to that he enjoyed it more as a memory of their time together than anything else.

Setting the goblet in front of her, he merely smiled at her surprised, but appreciative hooded glance and took his seat across from her, focusing concerned eyes on his liege lady. "What troubles you, mellon?" he asked softly, searching her face for any hints as to why she had come. Neither mentioned the many other times she had come to him during the night, times when the word 'mellon' was furthest from their minds.

"I need your help, Glorfindel," Idril spoke, her eyes examining his reaction to the question. For so long had they avoided each other, avoided their past, that she was almost afraid that he would not deign to help her. Her fear was for naught though, for he simply moved to take her hands in his.

"What is wrong, Idril?"

His hands tingled at the touch and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to jerk them from their place and shut himself away from the pain her presence often brought. But he could tell by looking in her eyes that whatever had brought her to him on this night, to leave her husband and young son alone, was more important than either of them. Glorfindel indulged a secret moment of satisfaction that she had come to him and not her husband with her fears.

"The City will Fall, Glorfindel," she whispered, her cornflower blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I told you once that to build such a grand city was to invite destruction and it will finally come to us and not everyone will escape its wrath."

Her hands tightened within his, "We need a way to escape to the mountains, 'findel. We will be betrayed by one among us and we need a way to free those who will survive the downfall of Ondolinde."

Sensing the gravity of her request, he nodded and squeezed her hands gently. "A tunnel then. It is the only way to escape the city without being seen. But do we have the time for such a feat?" he asked her, almost afraid to hear the answer.

His fears were unfounded though as she nodded absently, her long fingers caressing his hands for the comfort she needed but could not seek from him or her husband, for Tuor would not understand the need for secrecy, nor did he command enough power to achieve such a feat. "We will have the time we need, but no more. It must be done."

Glorfindel nodded, "Then it will be done, Idril. Fear not, for I will ensure that all haste is taken in this endeavor. But you must return to your…" He was, for a moment, unable to finish the sentence, pain flaring briefly in his bright eyes, "husband and son…before they wake to find you missing and dressed only in your night robes."

Idril was quiet for a long moment as she studied the table between them. Finally she raised her eyes to his own, their depths solemnly sincere. "I love him, Glorfindel, I truly do. He is a good man and it is thanks to him that I have my Earendil, my Little Star."

"I know," he whispered, rising from his seat to escort her to the door. "Our lives are not our own and you have found happiness in your life."

Though his heart struggled to say the words with seeming approval, he mustered a smile for her as he opened the door to allow her to step through. The moonlight glinted off of her pale hair, turning her slim figure to a beam of light beneath the dark sky as she turned about to face him.

"You must move on, Glorfindel. I cannot bear to see you so," she murmured, fingers tracing the faint lines of his cheek as sorrow glimmered in her eyes. He nodded though, removing her hand from his face as he spoke, "I know, mellon."

Idril smiled sadly then and tilted her head upwards to press a chaste kiss against his cheek. Flames burned his skin at her touch, but neither spoke of it, instead content to stand across from either other and watch. Finally, as if she had found what she had been seeking, the elven princess nodded to herself and turned half away from him.

"Keep it secret. Keep it safe," she whispered, her words echoing in his mind as she slipped into the darkness and towards the grand home Turgon had built for his daughter and her new family.

Author's Notes:

So I realized that I've mostly been doing everything from a Glorfindel point of view, though in third person. So I'm going to try to make an attempt to channel Idril in the next installment of this series. Wish me luck!