Fic: Turn Down an Empty Glass
Jun. 1st, 2010 00:56![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keilissI wrote this last year and somehow forgot to post it here, though there’s an unedited version on my website.
Characters: Glorfindel, Elrond.
Rating: probably PG.
Beta: Red Lasbelin (I spelt it right, Red)
Length: about a page.
Summary: Aftermath.
The smell of last night's wine was unmistakable. Glorfindel wrinkled his nose slightly and made his way across to the windows to draw open the drapes. The bedroom was furnished in warm though muted shades, its simplicity softened by touches that suggested a woman's eye: a woodland painting with flowers and butterflies, multi-coloured cushions, the soft throw over one of the chairs, the comfy pillows.
The lord of Imladris lay sprawled across the bed, one arm flung over his face, head thrown back. He was breathing deep and heavy; the former warrior thought that were he mortal he would have been snoring. He was still dressed in shirt, pants and house shoes, although he had removed his outer robe.
An empty flagon and a cup stood on the nightstand beside him.
While Celebrían fought her battle with the grey mists she said surrounded her at every turn, Elrond had been strong. He held himself together for the sake of his sons and young daughter, being for them a pillar and a rock, the place they could go for comfort should they so wish. Arwen had rejected that comfort, instead seeking out her grandfather and his quiet wisdom, and the boys had taken to grief as boys sometimes will, finding redress for pain in action and blood-letting. That, Glorfindel thought, would pass, or such was his experience.
Celebrían had depended on him for a year, on the physical and later emotional aid he could give her and the sharing of his considerable strength. Once she had left, taking ship into the West to her mother’s home in hope of healing or at least peace, the habit of being needed had remained, unused. And so, on the empty nights bereft not only of wife but of offspring as well, he had begun to take a cup or two more wine after a meal than had been his wont. Looking back, Glorfindel was unsure when it had escalated, but it had. One cup led to two, two to many. Now it was a flagon in the bedroom after dinner and time in the Hall of Fire, where his late night conversation grew progressively erratic as the hours passed.
And it had gone on long enough, Glorfindel thought grimly. He had been sent back for many reasons, some of the Valar's choosing, a couple of his own, and then there were others he had found only after his arrival. One of those latter was a care for the lord of the valley where he had made his home and for the lord’s family. This had begun in part due to his memories of Idril, dear to him as a sister and the fact that Celebrían was indeed blood kin through Galadriel, his cousin, but later this had grown into a deep fondness for the family themselves. Elrond in particular had become a close friend, someone whose pain he took to himself.
Now he walked over to the bed and none too gently shook Elrond's shoulder. "Time to get up, Hîren," he said firmly, raising his voice. "A good, brisk ride down the valley before breakfast should clear your head. We need to talk about events since Celebrían sailed. And you’re welcome to resent me all you like, but I would be a poor friend indeed to keep silence. Come, life is calling. It’s time you gave thought to your answer."
Characters: Glorfindel, Elrond.
Rating: probably PG.
Beta: Red Lasbelin (I spelt it right, Red)
Length: about a page.
Summary: Aftermath.
Turn Down an Empty Glass
The smell of last night's wine was unmistakable. Glorfindel wrinkled his nose slightly and made his way across to the windows to draw open the drapes. The bedroom was furnished in warm though muted shades, its simplicity softened by touches that suggested a woman's eye: a woodland painting with flowers and butterflies, multi-coloured cushions, the soft throw over one of the chairs, the comfy pillows.
The lord of Imladris lay sprawled across the bed, one arm flung over his face, head thrown back. He was breathing deep and heavy; the former warrior thought that were he mortal he would have been snoring. He was still dressed in shirt, pants and house shoes, although he had removed his outer robe.
An empty flagon and a cup stood on the nightstand beside him.
While Celebrían fought her battle with the grey mists she said surrounded her at every turn, Elrond had been strong. He held himself together for the sake of his sons and young daughter, being for them a pillar and a rock, the place they could go for comfort should they so wish. Arwen had rejected that comfort, instead seeking out her grandfather and his quiet wisdom, and the boys had taken to grief as boys sometimes will, finding redress for pain in action and blood-letting. That, Glorfindel thought, would pass, or such was his experience.
Celebrían had depended on him for a year, on the physical and later emotional aid he could give her and the sharing of his considerable strength. Once she had left, taking ship into the West to her mother’s home in hope of healing or at least peace, the habit of being needed had remained, unused. And so, on the empty nights bereft not only of wife but of offspring as well, he had begun to take a cup or two more wine after a meal than had been his wont. Looking back, Glorfindel was unsure when it had escalated, but it had. One cup led to two, two to many. Now it was a flagon in the bedroom after dinner and time in the Hall of Fire, where his late night conversation grew progressively erratic as the hours passed.
And it had gone on long enough, Glorfindel thought grimly. He had been sent back for many reasons, some of the Valar's choosing, a couple of his own, and then there were others he had found only after his arrival. One of those latter was a care for the lord of the valley where he had made his home and for the lord’s family. This had begun in part due to his memories of Idril, dear to him as a sister and the fact that Celebrían was indeed blood kin through Galadriel, his cousin, but later this had grown into a deep fondness for the family themselves. Elrond in particular had become a close friend, someone whose pain he took to himself.
Now he walked over to the bed and none too gently shook Elrond's shoulder. "Time to get up, Hîren," he said firmly, raising his voice. "A good, brisk ride down the valley before breakfast should clear your head. We need to talk about events since Celebrían sailed. And you’re welcome to resent me all you like, but I would be a poor friend indeed to keep silence. Come, life is calling. It’s time you gave thought to your answer."
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Date: 2010-06-01 00:05 (UTC)Lovely, despite the somber subject.
**hugs**
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Date: 2010-06-02 12:11 (UTC)I think the change in Elrond happened slowly and it took time for even Glorfindel to realise there was more happening than a lonely man looking for company in the evening.
*hugs you*
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Date: 2010-06-01 00:06 (UTC)(I think maybe elves, and half-elves (but how Elvish is Elrond is whole other discussion concerning more than percentages), can snore? They are human afterall, with just a few refinements. I guess if I were looking to refine the typical human male, I would, however, consider eliminating the snoring!)
While Celebrían fought her battle with the grey mists she said surrounded her at every turn
Terrific choice here--chilling and believable--kind of like a waking nightmare.
"Come, life is calling. It’s time you gave thought to your answer."
Good work, Glorfindel!
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Date: 2010-06-02 12:33 (UTC)I used to have minimal patience with Celebrian, but I've started to see how the mental trauma of being held and tormented (tortured?) might have been too much for her to overcome, no matter how caring and supportive her family were. Still think Tolkien's original choice of a far later marriage date for her and Elrond might make more sense though. It would give them less time to build a bond of trust strong enough to help her heal. (also allows for much younger children, always good for a story *g*)
Happy you liked this, Oshun - thank you :)
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Date: 2010-06-02 16:11 (UTC)You are so right! That's why, although I am a total canon nerd that I allow myself to play fast and loose with it at times. Sometimes there is a much better story there just waiting to be told.
I know what you mean about losing patience. If I had Elrond taking care of me, I think I could have handled a lot of major upsets in my life better!
I was thinking of the snoring husbands too, after I wrote that. I recorded my ex- once because he wouldn't believe how bad I said the snoring was. It was like something out of a Monty Python skit--the noises he could make!
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Date: 2010-06-03 20:16 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 00:17 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-02 12:56 (UTC)Don't know how I forgot to post this originally.
Hey - you made an icon from the picture :) Very cool!
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Date: 2010-06-01 00:42 (UTC)Come, life is calling. It’s time you gave thought to your answer."
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Date: 2010-06-02 13:01 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 01:50 (UTC)Wonderfully written, as always!
*Hugs*
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Date: 2010-06-02 13:30 (UTC)I'm delighted you enjoyed it, love - I'm so behind on your fiction, need to do some serious reading on the weekend.
*hugs*
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Date: 2010-06-01 02:10 (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2010-06-02 13:06 (UTC)Glad you liked it :)
*hugs*
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Date: 2010-06-01 05:52 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-02 13:09 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 21:20 (UTC)Hugs Binky xxx
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Date: 2010-06-02 13:19 (UTC)I'm rambling, sorry *g* - thank you Binky, very glad you liked it.
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Date: 2010-06-18 21:07 (UTC)Very effective. We know what happens next. You don't have to write that either.
This is so interesting. Your choice descrip is nice too.
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Date: 2010-06-20 17:24 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 20:05 (UTC)