Son of the Evening Star

[Varnafindë]

"He looked a lot like you," Rameldir said. "Even though you have much of your looks from your mother's side as well. From Luthien, some say - I never saw her, but I believe that Elwing had a fair share of her grandmother's beauty. But even more than his looks, you have his mannerisms. The way you sit down in a chair, for instance - I recognize his exact movements. And " - dared he say it - "the way you go all defensive when you don't want to talk. You remind me so much of him then."

[Curufin]

Elrond frowned, and stared at his feet for some time, unsure of exactly what to say. What did you say to a man who knew your father better than you did; who had more memories of him than you would ever know? Elrond had always felt uncomfortable around those who would speak to him of his father's glory - many of whom had never met him. What did they know of it? Perhaps he did great deeds in persuading the Valar to come to Middle-earth, but was it the mark of a hero to abandon his family?

'Yes, yes, very well,' he said a bit sharply. 'Was there something else you wished to speak to me about?'

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir felt as if the other had slapped his face. He very rarely raised his voice at Elrond, but now he did.

"So you think we've exhausted the first topic?" he asked. "I see - very clearly - that you don't want to talk about it, but I hold to what I said. It's not doing you any good.
I'll give you two options. Either you lance your boil and get some of that bitterness out - I promise to listen. I was only young then, but I was old enough to see your mother's sorrow.
Or, if you prefer, I can try to share some more memories of your father. Before he became Gil-estel."

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

Gil Galad awoke from his wine-induced slumber. He walked very slowly out of his room. Great he thought Now I have a headache.

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel tiredly ran a hand through his hair as he set aside the last document that had needed reviewing. Paperwork always did have a sedative effect on him... something Elrond had quickly realized and exploited.

Unfolding himself slowly from the chair, Glorfindel blew out the candle, then went over and stuck his hand out the window. A warm night, he would take to the gardens rather than returning to his rooms. He pushed the window open wider and swung himself outside, landing lightly on the branch of the tree which grew beside the wall.
He would never dare this on the side of the house facing the waterfall... that was a lie, actually. He had dared this on the waterfall side, and explaining the resulting injuries (thankfully light) to Elrond the next morning had proved interesting, but not worthy of repeat.

He moved through the garden, a fluid shadow, often taking to the trees, and laughed to himself to think that if any whom he had known in Gondolin could see him now, they would likely mistake him for one of the Sindar.
There had been few uncultivated trees in Gondolin. That thought sobered him and he stopped, sliding down to sit balanced on the branch, thoughtful as he was rarely still enough to be.
He had gathered, from the staccato conversations that he had been able to persuade Elrond into (he hoped Rameldir was having better luck) over the past month, that it was his memories, or lack thereof, of Eärendil that were bothering him.
Glorfindel had sympathized, but been unable to offer much comfort. He had died when the Mariner was a boy of seven, and returned after the man had spent over a millenia as a star; Eärendil was as much an abstract to him as he was to Elrond and there were times (after which Glorfindel genrally got himself extremely drunk) when he had caught himself forgetting that Elrond was, in fact, Eärendil's son, and not Eärendil grown to adulthood. It was a mistake, Glorfindel knew, that one could only make if one was missing the acquaintance of a whole generation of one's family.

He grimaced at the thought and settled back, leaning into the tree and, determinedly thinking of better memories, fell into restful meditation.

[Curufin]

'I have no need of lancing boils,' he said stubbornly. 'If healing needs to be done, I shall do it myself, in my own time.'

He turned away from Rameldir, and poured himself a cup of wine, drinking it slowly.

'If you wish to speak to me of my father, then I cannot stop you.'

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir brought down his fist on the table hard enough to make the wine decanter do a jump.

"I said I gave you two options, and that means you should choose between them, not just sulk and avoid the issue!" he yelled.
"If healing needs be done? It has needed being done for years! I just haven't been quite sure what the disease was before tonight. In this case, you're the patient, not the healer. Some healer you would be, to let the patient decide whether he is ill or not!"

[Curufin]

Elrond whirled on him, his eyes alight with his fury.

'What do you want of me, Rameldir!? What it is it you want? My father is gone! He shall never return and there is nothing you can do to change that! You cannot take my pain away. And more to the point, I am not Eärendil! You cannot mold me into him, and regain the friend you lost! I am someone different. My own person. So leave me be!'

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

Gil Galad stumbled out of his room to see Glorfindell standing still. "Do we have any healing herbs? I've got the worst pain in my head."

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel had not stayed restful in the tree's embrace for long. He was in the mood for company, though not in large numbers as he would find were he to return to the Hall of Fire at this hour.
Normally, he might have sought out Elrond and attempted to loosen his friend's tongue with some of that strong wine; but he suspected that Elrond was still engaged in conversation (or perhaps argument by now) with Rameldir. No point in intruding there.

He had almost given up the idea of anything entertaining and was on his way to his rooms when Gil-Galad most unexpectedly came out of his rooms and asked, "Do we have any healing herbs? I've got the worst pain in my head."
Glorfindel smiled, mischieviously glowing just a little brighter than the King might find comfortable in his clearly hungover state, "But of course!" He replied, "Elrond is a healer. Come with me, I know just the thing."
'The Thing' was a rather foul tasting hangover cure that Glorfindel had learned of from the men dwelling in Imladris. It worked, but was not something he would ever drink willingly. The face Gil-Galad would make trying to choke it down would be worth the scolding, Glorfindel thought, smirking as the led the unsuspecting King towards the kitchens.

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir stared at Elrond.

"Mold you into him?" he repeated. "I never wanted to mold you into your father! I know that he'll never return. He is not the friend I want to regain. You are! You've been my friend for far longer than he was. I was three when he was born and less than forty when he departed. You and I have known each other for centuries.
What do I want of you? I want to have you back to your normal self! Something has been growing on you for years now - and the last few weeks have brought it to a peak. I don't know whether it's got to do only with your father, or whether the growing trouble outside Imladris is a more important part of it. I only know that something is gnawing at you so much that it affects even those around you. At least it affects me. For the others here I can only guess. But I cannot understand why you're refusing to open up and share your troubles!"

[Curufin]

'Some things are better left unspoken, for once they are said they cannot be unsaid.' Elrond said in an undertone, clasping his hands tightly in front of him.

He was silent for a long moment before continuing.

'A shadow grows in my mind, Rameldir. A dark shadow. I fear this peace will not last for long.'

[Varnafindë]

"Some things spoken don't need to be unsaid, though," Rameldir said, calmer now after waiting for the other to speak. "But if your most current concern is with the situation around us, I can appreciate that."

Perhaps, he thought, it will be necessary to take first things first. At least he's finally saying something about why his mood has been so dark lately.

"A shadow, you say?" he asked. "Would you say, then, that the increase in Orc activity that I have noticed of late, could be more than mere coincidence? I would hope for it to subside again - but I've also feared that it might not, and that our peace might not last. My archers would be ready, should they be needed. But what might be behind such trouble?"

[Curufin]

'A great deal could be behind it, and my mind fears that it is something far darker than we imagine. But I know nothing for certainty. I would speak to those wiser than myself. The Lady Galadriel, perhaps would know, as she is closer to the east.'

[Varnafindë]

"Darkness in the east?" Rameldir asked. "There has been darkness in the east before - of the very darkest kind. If it's something of that sort you fear, then I agree with you that Lady Galadriel's opinion of it would be worth seeking. And then I would understand better why it's been gnawing on you. It ... it could be enough to gnaw on the merriest of wood-elves, even. If they did realise how serious it could be."

[Willow Oran]

"Little did I realize how seriously you would react!" Glorfindel exclaimed as he was forcefully propelled into Elrond's rooms, and the middle of his and Rameldir's doom-laden discussion, by a rather irate King of the Noldor in Exile,
"Pardon our intrusion, Elrond, there was no distracting him this time," Glorfindel apologized even as he ducked behind his lord to evade Gil-Gald's reach, "Our liege has a headache and no sense of humor tonight."

[Willow Oran]

-Double Post-

[Curufin]

Honestly, Elrond was glad of the interruption. Looking from Glorfindel to Gil-galad, he could see easily that his King had enjoyed a bit too much of the wine, and perhaps a bit more of Glorfindel's cure.

He clasped his hands together and raised an eyebrow, trying not to show his amusement as Glorfindel sought refuge behind him.

'You flee from our King, Glorfindel - he who faced a Balrog at the Fall of Gondolin? And now the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower uses a mere Peredhil as a shield? Oh, how the Ñoldor have fallen!'

[Willow Oran]

"I was permitted to fight back against the balrog," Glorfindel protested, laughing and yet keeping Elrond firmly between himself and Gil-Galad,
"You would take it amiss if I were to push our king over a cliff, though in his current state he might not object to pulling me along with him. You are 'merely' good with calming words, my friend, whilst my attempts to shield myself with the same have resulted in his greater wrath!"

[Curufin]

Elrond struggled not to roll his eyes while remaining his dignity in this fiasco. He found Glorfindel's antics highly amusing, and it amused him further that he was feeling that he had been forced into a decidedly paternal role between these two elf-lords - both of which had far more years than he.

'My liege,' he said to Gil-Galad, keeping his face entirely flat and expressionless, 'if you could find it in your noble heart not to slay my humble -' and here he nearly choked, in using that word in reference to one of the Ñoldor - 'servant, I should be most obliged and I shall tend to your needs myself.'