When we last left our heroes, Glorfindel was attempting to avoid being a pincushion for Ranger arrows, the twins were thinking over a lot of things, and odd events were happening in Mithlond.  Nilmandra, thank you for the beta and encouragement!

Chapter III:  Where to Go From Here

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"You ride by yourself?" Elladan pushed his horse's head aside as it turned to nuzzle him, obligingly scratching under its chin. "I realize you are able, Glorfindel, but the orc tribes have been virulent this season."

"How many times have you told us not to let our arrogance lead us to our deaths?" Elrohir ducked under his mount's neck to quirk an eyebrow at Glorfindel.

Shaking his head at being chided by elflings whose father had not even been born when he first walked Middle-earth, Glorfindel finished fastening the saddlebag and turned to face them. "I will be wary, trust me. When am I not?" Seeing the stubborn expressions so much like that of their father, he chuckled. "It is not arrogance that I ride alone, it is confidence. I have ages of experience you know."

"Yes, and Adar has said it made you cocky in the past." Elladan, never one to back down, crossed his arms and stared at his former teacher. "Ride with the Rangers, they're going towards the Shire at any rate. It is on your way."

"And if you are attacked you'll have back up." Elrohir nodded, taking up the argument where his twin left off. "These orcs have not been as stupid as they were in the past, Glorfindel. They know the terrain, and use it best to their advantage." Stepping forward as the elda opened his mouth, Elrohir placed a hand on his arm. "Please, Gofi. We lost Nana to them. We would not see any more of our family lost."

Elladan nodded. "And I doubt Námo wants to see you in his halls again so soon." He smirked at the frown aimed at him. "Imagine what Ecthelion would say were you killed this time by something so mundane as an orc."

Glorfindel stared at Elladan a long moment, his ire with the taunts disappearing as he discerned the concern that prompted them. Finally he laughed, and reached out to clasp each twin briefly. "I'll wait and ride with the Dúnedain so you two don't fret yourselves to bits."

Almost as one, the twins swung up on their horses. Elladan lifted his bow in a salute as they wheeled their horses and rode into the murky light of dawn just breaking over the trees.

Smiling to himself, Glorfindel stroked his horse's neck as he listened to the sounds of the Rangers readying themselves to ride out. He loved those twin rascals, despite the silver strands he always claimed they gave him and regardless that none could find any such shade in his hair.

Elrond's words came back to him and he sighed. He had been sent back with rather murky instructions, typical of the Valar, and sometimes wondered precisely what they would think of the life he had made for himself. In no hurry to find out however, Glorfindel swung lightly into the saddle and kneed his horse towards the Dúnedain. Time to let them know their unexpected visitor would be riding with them for a time.

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"Milord?" Erestor hesitated in the arched entry, uncertain whether Elrond wanted company or solitude. It was hard to tell these days, harder than before... The councilor almost sighed, but Elrond looked up just then, grey eyes dark with the melancholy that haunted him almost ceaselessly.

"Hmm? Oh,...Erestor." Blinking once, as if clearing his gaze, the haven lord offered a weary smile. "Come and join me."

Pleased at both the company and hoping he could distract Elrond, Erestor entered and settled in the chair opposite his lord's. The fire was warm, the flames somehow comforting, even as the chill air of night drifted in the open arched doors and windows.

It was something that had at first shocked Erestor; building without closing out the elements at least in the height of winter? But no, Elrond had wanted the rooms of his haven to always be full of fresh air, open to all breezes that tickled past the trees to tease the elves' hair.

He'd protested, imagining no small armies of insects, animals, snow, rain and leaves entering, unhindered. His own birth-home, now lost to the ravages of Sauron and his armies of orcs, had seen a great deal of snow during winter, close as it was to the higher mountain ranges. Valleys were deep, and must surely fill with snow!

Ah...youth. Erestor smiled, staring into the flames. He'd been young then, much younger. Still grieving, sharp-tongued in his anger, and pain at losing his family and home in Eregion. Even so, he had not wanted to stay in Mithlond where the High King ruled. The same king who had left so many to the mercies of Sauron, regardless that the smiths had been fooled.

None of them deserved the black hoards that swarmed from the hills, cutting down infant, female and male alike. Help had finally come, Elrond and the armies of the king.... Too late.

Elrond had offered them an alternative - a new haven he was founding for wounded to come and find healing. A sanctuary for all who might seek and find it. Erestor had followed...and never once looked back.

During the building of the haven, Erestor had protested against the open designs. How could they possibly defend against any enemy? How could they keep things that were best left outside...outside?

That was the last time he had underestimated Elrond.

In Ost-in-Edhil, Erestor had seen the great smiths at work, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, and been in awe of what they could craft from mere metal. Designs that nearly breathed, flowed, took on a life of their own.

In Imladris, he had beheld another sort of Elven craft at work, one more foreign to the Noldor. Here, there were more Sindar, and a handful of Silvan, quiet folk who wrought wonders in wood and seemed able to nearly become one with their beloved forests. They had shown the secrets of blending Elven will with the forests, until the haven almost breathed it was so alive.

Such was Lothlórien, or so he had heard. He'd yet to make a trip there, but someday....

"Where do you wander tonight, friend?" Elrond's smile was relaxed as he held out a half-filled glass of wine.

Accepting it with a nod of thanks, Erestor drew in a deep breath, letting the delicate aroma of the wine tease his senses. "The beginnings of Imladris."

"Indeed?" Arching an eyebrow, Elrond stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. A slight smile lifted the melancholy from his expression. "And what takes you back to those early days?"

Gesturing to the openings where the dark forms of trees danced against the brilliance of the stars, Erestor quirked a smile. "The chill in the air, actually. I thought we would all wake to find ourselves covered in snow and wild creatures."

Elrond nodded, gaze tracking the path of the brightest star for a long moment. "You weren't alone in that, you know. Glorfindel had been used to encircling walls, and very thick, well-guarded ones at that." A smirk curled his lips. "The Silvans despaired of ever convincing him...until one of them happened to mention that even such defenses had not saved Gondolin."

"True." If his smile was a touch bitter, it was excusable. "The valley itself is a protection."

"Yes, as is the Ford, and the very trees around us, should such a need ever arise." Shrugging velvet-clad shoulders, Elrond pursed a lip. "Silvans are quite...unknowable in some ways. They are not given to speaking as much as the rest of us, nor are they fond of divulging their secrets." The grey eyes met the darker gaze of the councilor. "Give them the opportunity and room to work, however, and you may well see the wondrous."

Erestor nodded. "As I recall, the Silvans in Lord Thranduil's haven are fiercely protective." A rueful smile tugged at his lips as he remembered being surrounded before he could even twitch a thumb towards his sword, staring at the pale wraiths that had somehow soundlessly encircled their travelling party. "Loyal to a fault."

"Quite...once you prove you are someone worthy of that trust." Elrond smiled for his rather bookish friend. "There is something to be said for the 'primitive' clans."

He took no offense, as none was meant. Both of them were of Noldor descent, though Elrond's was such a mixed lot that it was no surprise he seemingly was related in some way to almost every major family in Middle-earth. Elrond shared Erestor's love of learning and lore. That, beyond all other things, had won him utterly to this one elf's side.

"It seems so peaceful this night." Slouching a bit in his seat, drinking the wine with deep appreciation, Erestor pretended not to notice his lord's grin as he kicked off his shoes and wiggled his toes before the fire.

"As it should be without the valley's worst troublemakers." Elrond chuckled, tempted to tell Erestor that Glorfindel had a habit of wiggling his toes exactly that way. The golden and raven-haired councilors were opposites in many ways, and yet much alike. They typically offered him views from the extreme of the other, but it granted him what he needed: balance. "My sons and Glorfindel," he clarified, seeing the politely blank expression offered to him. "Erestor, you may speak freely, my friend. I should hope you know that after so long."

Sighing, the younger elf nodded. Like everyone else in the haven, he had been the brunt of many of the twins' pranks at one time or another, and they had been sat down and made to listen to sharp lectures countless times. Elladan and Elrohir were lively, bright and had their sire's rather quirky sense of humour. Or maybe that was all Glorfindel's doing. Ai! The elda was nearly as bad at times! How could an elf who possessed so many sterling qualities also be such a contrary, insubordinate creature?

Elrond called it mischievous, tolerating it with amused affection. Erestor had, more than once, called Glorfindel treasonous, and wondered why...WHY his lord didn't send him packing. No doubt it had something to do with that re-embodiment folderol, and charm that seemed to win so many over. Not him,...oh no. He didn't miss Glorfindel tracking in mud, leaving horse hairs all over his cushions, breezing in to disrupt whatever it was he was doing.... "When will they be back?"

Was that a rather plaintive note in the councilor's voice? Suppressing a knowing smirk, Elrond offered a negligent shrug. "I suspect the twins will spend some months in Lothlórien and Glorfindel gave no time for his return." He offered a genuine smile. "I miss them too, but they'll be back soon, probably with the spring rains, and we shall bemoan the mud in the halls again."

Erestor nodded, suddenly chuckling. He lifted his glass. "To laughter and our sanity, milord." The smile it garnered made him pleased that he had done so.

"Well said, Erestor." Elrond raised his glass to clink it gently against the other. "Well said."

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TBC after January 30th