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Ebony and Gold

Glorfindel, born to a couple in the Grey Havens who sailed to Aman upon his thirtieth year (approximately the equivalent of 10 years old in human terms) goes with Cirdan to Imladris for fostering. There he meets a very shy and beautiful young Elfling that appeals greatly to him. What will become of this? Inspired by Nemesi's lovely
pic in her LJ.

Imladris, shortly after its founding

Cirdan sighed wearily as they approached Elrond's valley. He had never married nor had children so taking charge of the young Glorfindel had been especially taxing. Oh, he had cared for Erenion in his youth, but that was entirely different. When the young soon-to-be High-king had come into his custody, Gil-galad already approached adulthood and merely needed a guiding hand. Very much unlike having the Elfling at his side placed under his guardianship.

As if his thoughts called to the golden child, Glorfindel looked up at Cirdan from his horse's back. Those deep blue eyes in that exquisite face looked far older than the years claimed. In many ways, Cirdan knew that Glorfindel would begin remembering his previous life again once he transitioned from Elfling to adult. An eyebrow rose in question and Cirdan barely restrained himself from laughing. How very much like Elrond that look was! They should get along famously.

"I believe you and your foster father will deal quite well together,
Glorfindel. There are not many your age, but a few he has taken under
his wing," the Teleri lord explained.

"Will I meet them?" Glorfindel inquired, his eyes turning to the distant encampment just coming into view below them.

Cirdan moved his horse onto the trail, turning back briefly before concentrating on the narrow path. "I believe you may, though it could
take time to make friends. Many of them have lost their parents to Mandos' Halls rather than to Valinor. Try to treat them kindly, for some of them have no idea how to play."

The Elfling's face fell, but Cirdan had no further time to reflect on it as his entire attention turned to navigating the oft-times treacherous footing into Imladris. Below him, tents stretched along the Bruinen, some sporting Elrond's colors, others that of Lindon. Gil-galad had come to seek his herald's advice, undoubtedly. His lips twisted in a somewhat sad smile. Neither one of those two would admit their relationship went far beyond what they presented to the rest of the world. In all his years, Cirdan had rarely seen two so close and so right for each other. Wistfully, he thought of his long-lost lover, then pushed his personal sorrow behind him for the hope of the future. Visions of Glorfindel at Elrond's side, acting as his advisor, seneschal, and friend had teased Cirdan until he realized the Elfling's place lay not in Mithlond, in his realm, but in Imladris, Elrond's home.

The closer the Grey Havens' party came to the main area, the more
attention they garnered. One Elf ran off toward Elrond's tent, and
then hurried toward the new construction against one cliff wall. The
familiar forms of the *peredhel* and the High-king emerged from the
building's framework, welcoming smiles on their faces. Cirdan bowed
from horseback, then dismounted and assisted Glorfindel from his

"*Mae govannan*, Lord Cirdan," Elrond greeted him warmly. "And who do we have here?" he asked, indicating the wide-eyed young one at
Cirdan's side.

"Ah, this is the reason for my visit. May I present someone I believe
you can help? His parents left for Valinor a decade ago, entrusting
his care to me. However, I have seen that his place is at your side,
Lord Elrond. Surely you can foster him."

The peredhel looked somewhat shocked, but the expression quickly
smoothed. "Of course. He can join the others we have here, if you
think that appropriate."

Just as Elrond uttered these words, Galdor approached. The Noldo had
arrived with Gil-galad's group and had become the tutor for the Elflings of various ages. His favorite, and the one who often followed him no matter the time of day or task assigned to the teacher, clung to the dark robes Galdor wore. Tiny pale hands and the hint of raven locks peeked around the counselor's robes.

"My king, Lord Elrond..." Galdor began, and then took in Cirdan and
his party. "What a pleasure to see you, Lord Cirdan! And who is
this?" he asked, indicating Glorfindel.

Cirdan chuckled and tried to pull Glorfindel forward. Surprisingly, the young Elf did not resist, but moved toward Galdor. However, the adult Elf appeared not the source of his curiosity, but the slender Elfling behind him.

"Glorfindel," Cirdan began, a combination of introduction and warning
not to act inappropriately.

"Glorfindel?" three voices uttered together in shocked tones.

Cirdan nodded, then moved to stand close to the High-king and the
herald. "Aye. The Valar have returned him to Arda and I believe it
their purpose to have him at your side, Elrond. After all, he fell defending your great-grandparents' retreat from Gondolin. He remembers naught of it... Yet."

Gil-galad nodded. "Perhaps 'tis for the best. Such memories oft bring
great pain." He peered over Cirdan's shoulder, finding Glorfindel doing his best to get the other Elfling to come out from behind Galdor.

"Who are you?" Glorfindel persisted. "Why do you hide? I will not hurt you. Come... you look quite pretty," he offered at the glimpses of long dark lashes that matched the black locks. "Please?"

Galdor took pity on him, and tried to gently guide the little one to stand before Glorfindel. All to no avail for somehow the tiny one continued to find a way to hide. At last, Galdor gave up.
"Come now. I know you are shy, but you are also one of my best students," the counselor cajoled.

Glorfindel reached around to pull the little one away from the protection of his teacher. He took the other Elfling by the shoulders. "I was right! You are pretty! Why ever were you hiding?"

Huge dark brown eyes regarded him, highlights of red on the high cheekbones pointing out how very shy and embarrassed the other Elfling felt under Glorfindel's scrutiny. Indeed, the golden Elfling pulled the dark one into his arms, patting his back and smoothing the long black hair.

"Tell me your name. I am called Glorfindel. Surely you can share yours with me?" he begged, unaware of the amused looks the adults shared.

"Erestor," came the soft reply, so soft Glorfindel nearly missed it.

"Erestor? Why it fits you perfectly!" he exclaimed. Indeed, he felt as if somehow this reclusive and shy creature would come to mean great deal to him. "I think we shall become famous friends, do you not?"

Tentatively, the smaller Elfling reached out to touch Glorfindel's hair. "Gold... Glorfindel... Friend?" Erestor asked almost fearfully.

Glorfindel hugged the tiny form close, though very carefully. "Aye, friend. Come, show me this place I am to call home," he encouraged and to the adults' surprise, little Erestor took the offered hand and led the reborn Golden Flower toward the place he would live for a very long time.

The end?

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