They thought him fey, hard edged and glittering, his eyes diamond-bright.
The eyes had bought him silence, conversations died away when he entered a room.
So be it.
Silence was a cloak he had worn for an entire age.
Upon the steps of the courtyard the day he had arrived from the Havens,
Elrond's knowing gaze had locked with his own.
He had felt his silence weighed and measured.
Accepted.

Elrond spoke a single word, another stepped forth. A single, slight nod beckoned him to follow.
He trailed the dark shape. Darkness of eye, darkness of silken hair braided back severely, Darkness of robes whispering as they proceeded along the corridor to a door.
Eyes the color of night met his own, searching, before taking leave of him.
Here was another who felt not the need to fill spaces with inane chatter.
His own gaze followed the dark shape as it glided away to whatever destination.

Elsewhere the household hummed with veiled excitement.
Glorfindel closed the door upon Tarnin Austa.
He changed into a simple robe, belted loosely.
Later, a meal was delivered to him. He ignored it, except for the wine.
He allowed himself the indulgence of his balcony as night fell.
A storm brewed in the distance, apt reflection of his thoughts.

When the rain began, he stayed where he was, uncaring.
Unheeded, it watered his drink, mingled with tears falling unnoticed.
Movement intruded upon his senses from across the garden.
His eyes riveted to the form, hidden within dusky cloak.
A flash of  dark eyes met his own, lightning illuminated empty space where the figure had stood.
The glass was forgotten, its fall absorbed within the thunder.
Across the garden, a faint path beckoned.

Glimpses of movement through the trees, leading ever upward.
The roar of the storm mingled with the roar of the falls.
This sound he understood. Welcomed as answer to the silence within.
Upon the heights, the figure faced away, feet braced wide against the storm.
Arms outstretched, head thrown back, hair streaming, unbound.
Fingers clutched against the sky.

Enveloping darkness fell, was swept away by the wind
Lightning caressed alabaster satin, ebony silk.
The dance began.
He stood helpless, ensorcelled by forgotten beauty.
Memories as violent as the approaching storm crashed within him, overwhelming.
Soul-deep sorrow, despair, endings. Terrible loneliness.
All unleashed within the dance.
Rain pelted down, lightning flashed, thunder crashed as close as a lover.
The dancer mirrored the tormented sky, enflamed.

Poised upon the edge of eternity, the dancer was swept up,
Arms locked around him, held tight, bore him away.
The wind whipped a tangle of ebony and gold.
With nothing but the rain to ease passage, he buried himself within the welcoming velvet heat,
Beginning anew the oldest dance of all with his beloved lost, and longer missed.
Touch relieved a starving endured, a banquet of the senses long denied.
They wept, tears now of joy mingled with the rain, lips bruised by desperate kisses.
Released from bondage, keening, they rode the crest of passion.
Falling together from the height, reunited souls reclaimed their hearts' home.

Elrond welcomed the sunrise.
His eyes followed the two who made their way homeward from the heights, their long night of silence ended.
He smiled.