gondolin_noble | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's a peaceful evening in the valley - maybe a little too quiet, with Celebrian and her two sons gone to see her parents in Lothlorien. Now that the sons are both well-grown and trained to Glorfindel's standards, he felt comfortable letting them take command of the guard on that particular journey.

It helps that he's personally been over that pass quite a few times this season, and hasn't found any signs of trouble. Not that he'll ever tell the twins that, of course.

Still, it's a very nice evening, a good one to sit with a book and listen to the water (and the never-ending minstrels).

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He nods. Silently.

Accepting it, because he can feel the distance from the world brought about by exhaustion.
And because he trusts Glorfindel to keep his word.

Grateful this will not become a battle, Glorfindel steps forward to guide Elrond back inside. The healers watching over Celebrian look ready to gear up for another fight, but now that he has a path that he deems acceptable, Glorfindel is implacable.

Eventually a bed is found and brought in, and Glorfindel practically stands over Elrond until he is in it.

He lies down, his face turned toward Celebrian's bed, one hand next to it, Palm up.
Ready to hold her hand if she needs him to.
Wants him to.

His eyes drift shut.

Glorfindel takes a seat near Celebrian and does his best impression of a great golden ornery elvish mule, forcing the healers to leave Elrond be and work around the pair of them.

The healers, being well used to this mood from Glorfindel, don't pay him much mind at all. They're just thankful they don't have to treat him at the moment.

Little changes through the long watches of the night, but Glorfindel doesn't mind.

At some point Elrond opens his eyes, but he stays so still that the healers at least do not notice.

He listens to her. Her breathing.
And there are tears in his eyes.

It is near time that he'd rouse Elrond anyway, but when Celebrian shifts, so does he - forcibly rousting his lord from his bed and lending what strength he can to make sure Elrond is alert and coherent.

He accepts the offered help and gets up.

Going to Celebrian's bedside, he leans lightly on Glorfindel. But the last steps, he takes alone. And when Elrond speaks, you would have to know him well to tell that anything is amiss at all.

"Little bird. I am here."
Elves are private creatures. Normally, he wouldn't use such an intimate pet name in mixed company.

If it's any consolation, the healers don't get to hang around very long - they're herded out by a very persistent and increasingly insistent Glorfindel, who can't see how five minutes without a whole pack hovering around could be all that detrimental.

He then firmly plants himself in the doorway with the attitude of one prepared to take on all comers, from hobbit to vala and any in between.

Elrond speaks with Celebrian, holding her hand.
She weeps.

He strokes her hair.

She grows quiet again after a while, and he stays in place, speaking to her. Softly, softly.

After a time Glorfindel and the healers come to an understanding, and they take themselves off for a time. They'll be back, of course - they're needed, but they can give the lord and lady of the house some peace.

Glorfindel finds himself a quiet corner to stash himself in - he's tired, and it has been a long day.

There is a calm spreading in the room.

It might be Elrond doing - something.

Soothing, calming. Comforting.

Glorfindel almost allows himself to be lulled to sleep by it - comfort and calm are in short supply. But he knows how tired Elrond is, and how sorely injured - part of his (admittedly often self-imposed) duties as protector is protecting Elrond from himself.

And from that thrice-damned ring.

Wincing as he forces muscles that have gone stiff to move he pulls himself out of his chair, going to Elrond's side.

Celebrian is sleeping.
Elrond is looking at her with all the pain in his eyes he had to hide whoe she was still awake.

"She wants to travel West," he says, his voice barely calm. "I cannot heal a wounded Fëa."

The physical wounds may be fading quickly , but they are not what pains her. Nor him, even if one of the bandages have grown darkly crimson.

She wants to leave.
She ought to leave.
She must.
- but ...

"She will find healing there." It isn't said as a platitude, but as a certainty - this is something he knows and has experienced. "But no decisions must be made in this moment."

A wave of his hand allows the healers back in, and he makes sure with a very pointed look that at least a couple of them are coming for Elrond instead of Celebrian.

Somehow what starts out with the healers wanting Elrond to go to a different room to be examined ends up with Elrond on the pallet that has suddenly ended up next to Celebrian's bed.

He is very good at communicating what he wants when he has to, despite being kind and soft spoken in the everyday.

He calls Glorfindel over.
"Are they well enough to come here?"

Arwen - Arwen is a different matter altogether .

"... Physically, yes." Glorfindel hedges, wincing. Right now he is not the twins' favorite person by a long shot.

"You will tell them that I have sent for them," Elrond says, guessing at the reasons behind the wince.

"And that I expect them to come. And behave as befits the situation."

"As my lord commands." It's said without griping or sighing, but in his head he's trying to decide if this will be better or worse than going up against the balrog.

He goes, even though he's fairly certain that dealing with the balrog is the less painful option. It turns out he's fairly correct in his guess - when they return, the twins are leaning on each other for support and as well-mannered as you could possibly hope for, but there's an obvious separation between them and their protector. Glorfindel, fully retreated into himself and stone-faced, stays outside for the moment. He knows his temper is getting perilously frayed, and he doesn't want to make this day any worse.

They stay with their parents for a very long time.

When they reemerge, they both have red rimmed eyes. And they are quiet , with no fight left in them.

They too have seen where this is going. And they have been enveloped in their father's love, because he knows firsthand how it feels to fail someone in your care. If not a parent.

It is the last time he will manage this for quite a while.

Glorfindel has been busy in the interm - he'd found Erestor, and between the two of them they'd settled the household and guard affairs with the sort of grim ruthlessness that comes when they'd rather take their frustration and grief out on a pack of orcs, and have run out of orcs to punish. Glorfindel then went to visit the injured members of the guard to make sure they were faring well.

He hasn't quite managed to center himself enough to go visit the families of those that will not be returning, but he will see to it before the night is out. First though, he stops to check on Elrond again, after letting the twins go by without comment.

He is sitting next to his wife's bed, holding her hand. He looks worn and when he looks up at Glorfindel, the light in his eyes is dim.

"They blame themselves," he says. Quietly. "I told them I did not. And neither does she." He nods down at Celebrian, sleeping. Her fingers curled lightly around his.

"How far the others?" He asks. Quietly. He will expect the number of casualties as well.

Glorfindel knows all too well how far he can push his brand of willfulness - that is ground that has been will treaded, and he is well aware where he stands at the moment.

He may not like it, but he has come to accept it.

"Those who survived will be well, given time." He assures, and launches into a report on the state of the valley, ending with a list of the names of those who have died - more than a few are elves he'd had a training in since they were elflings, and he finds their deaths difficult.

Elrond gets up and walks over to where Glorfindel is standing.
He puts a hand on his arm.

"And none will blame you either. Had you not been there,more lives would have been lost ."

He takes a deep breath.
"I will speak with Arwen. And accompany you when you go to see the families."

The mulish expression surfaces and disappears again without comment - he would spare Elrond the pain of facing the bereaved families, but it is only right that he be there.

As to his own lack of blame, he makes no comment on that either. He knows Elrond is telling the truth, and time he will be able to accept it, but for right now... right now, their deaths are just a little too close.

"Do you wish me to bring Arwen here?"

He shakes his head.

"I will go find her. Her mother is sleeping. That much I can at least do for her."

He runs a hand over his face. "I will meet you by the great stairs. "