gondolin_noble | (no subject)

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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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"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. "

"As you wish." Glorfindel replies, bowing and retreating, glad to be spared that conversation at least. Thank the Valar she hadn't joined her brothers and mother on this journey.

When Elrond arrives at the stairs, Glorfindel is there - he changed to a clean outfit, and re-did his braids. If he is going to do this, he's at least going not bring the grime of the battlefield with him.

Elrond too has changed into clean clothes. And the bandage peeping out from his collar looks fresh as well.

His hair hangs unbound, held in place by a circlet.
He is The Lord of the Valley now.

He nods at Glorfindel.

"Let us walk," he says. He does not make any mention of how his daughter have taken the news. That is not a good sign.

It really, really isn't. It's hardly a surprise, given how he expected the conversation to go, but it does not bode well for the days ahead.

First, though, they need to get through the next few hours. He falls in step with Elrond, not relishing the task but knowing it needs to be done. The thing Glorfindel sometimes thinks he will like the most about sailing West, when that does happen, will be that he will never have to do this again - to face the newly-grieving, to somehow find words to show support, to try to not see accusation on every face - why didn't he train them harder, come to their aid faster, bring them home alive?

They make their way from home to home and later the elves of Imladris will remember that day and how the Captain of The Imladris Guard, golden- haired Glorfindel, and The Lord of the Valley brought what comfort they could in this time of sorrow.

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