Glorfindel wanders down the hill from the Last Homely House for the sixteenth time, attempting to appear as if he is merely passing by on his way elsewhere. This is becoming tedious, he thinks. If he doesn't move soon, I'm going to get out the forklift. Glorfindel plants himself directly in Elrond's line of vision, and adopts what is known far and wide as "The Balrog Stance." (Glorfindel is very good at appearing formidable, especially when The Stance is accompanied by The Glare, which it happens to be at the moment) For good measure, Glorfindel adds the "The Voice", known to drop orcs in their tracks at thirty paces, especially so if accompanied by garlic.
"You realize of course, how ridiculous you look? Here you are, sitting on a rock, elbows on knees, with your chin in your hands. The fact that you're wearing your formal robes doesn't count. Your loyal subjects are no longer swallowing the bit about your being out here to meditate upon the myriad vagaries of existence."
"Go Away," Elrond whines.
Glorfindel doesn’t budge. "What if I stand between you and It? Will that help?"
"You can stand there until the pigeons roost on you. It's not going to make any difference. It won't go away," Elrond wails.
"Not without supernatural intervention. I just hope the Valar are keeping notes." Glorfindel thinks.
"I'll see what I can arrange. Arwen owes me, and I'm not letting her weasel out of it."
"It was bad enough before Erestor started "decorating" it, but look at it now! It's - it's- dreadful! And hideous! And-and-aesthetically unappealing!" Elrond moans.
"I know, I know...but you're going to give yourself a complex if you don't quit glaring at it, and the Valar know you don't need another one. You've been out here three days, and you're going to get a crick in something if you sit there much longer!"
Glorfindel's patience is beginning to wear a little thin at this point. (Privately, he considers planting flowers around Elrond and leaving him for the pigeons, but there's the remote possibility that Celebrian would object.)
Elrond heaves a great sigh and attempts to get up. Instead he topples over face first, having petrified in the position he has been maintaining for the last two of the three aforementioned days. Fortunately, Glorfindel catches him before he rolls very far down the hill.
"Just tell me nobody was watching?" Elrond groans.
"Nobody but the guy from UPS. He just dropped off another package."
A low moan from Elrond is the only response.
"Stay put. I'll go get the wheelbarrow, and we'll have you back to the house in a jiffy." Glorfindel sounds just a little bit too cheerful.
"As if I have a choice," Elrond thinks. "At least the hem of my robe is hanging down far enough to block my view of IT. Almost as good as having a blindfold..."
A short while later:
"You didn't have to put me in here with my clothes still on!" Elrond grumps from his nice steamy bath. "Now they'll shrink. Not to mention that the dye has run and I'm now a distinct shade of burgundy from the neck down." (Even though Glorfindel has thoughtfully added his rubber ducks to his bath, Elrond’s mood hasn't noticeably improved.)
"What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't get you out of them with you rolled up like a cheap rug. Besides, I don't think I could stand the strain. There are some things that just don't bear contemplating and you in your birthday suit is one of them. Erestor's got me to the edge of mental stability already."
"Speaking of mental stability, What was he thinking? Wasn't it bad enough when he gave Arwen the bagpipes? He knows she doesn't have any musical ability, even if she is an elf. Now we have, perched atrociously atop Erestor's "office", (I've simply got to stop calling it that, Elrond thinks) an 'Eight Feet Tall Glow-in-the-Dark Inflatable Likeness of Varda'. The Deluxe Model, no less. 'Complete with Adjustable Neon-Glow Tiara'... I could just cry."
"Try Lamaze breathing instead. The herd of plastic flamingoes doesn’t add any aesthetic value, either. Besides, you’re not in this alone. Where do you think the: *I went to the Halls of Mandos and all I got was this lousy t-shirt* came from? Erestor gets really bent out of shape if I don't wear it at least once a week."
Elrond's moroseness is becoming contagious," Glorfindel thinks, "and this will not do." He hurriedly changes the subject. Sort of.
"Gimli is enjoying his pogo stick though," Glorfindel observes cheerfully. "Or he was until it got away with him in the stables and he landed in Asfaloth's stall."
Elrond brightens visibly at Glorfindel's statement. "Asfaloth took umbrage?"
Glorfindel nods. "Mm Hmm. Launched Gimli and the stick through the wall and over Arwen's duck pond. Another six feet and he would have completely cleared it. He says that's why he doesn't like horses, because they don't have a sense of humor."
"Asfaloth obviously does. Drat. I miss all the good stuff... Corrupt MY daughter, will you, dwarf?" Elrond thinks gleefully. "Hah!"
"I know...I suppose I should feel a little guilty. Erestor's little presents have been very generous. Especially the last one- truly the gift that keeps on giving... The look on Thranduil's face when he plopped down on that whoopee cushion..." Glorfindel smiles at the fond memory.
"The pompous old wheeze tried to blame it on his horse!" Elrond is giggling fiendishly, which causes him to tip over again.
Glorfindel watches the bubbles rise for a moment, sighs, reaches in, and hauls him up by the back of the collar.
"You're very helpful today, Glor," Elrond croaks.
"Don't mention it," Glorfindel grins. "Glad to be of service."
"Speaking of being of service, my most trusted, devious, and unscrupulous Captain, what are we going to do about Erestor's latest fiasco?"
"Sue Ebay? We'll never make it stick. Just because there should be a law against tackiness..."
"Don't remind me. I was, however, thinking of a solution a little closer to home. I believe you said something about blackmailing Arwen?"
Glorfindel's expression is speculative. "A distinct possibility, but I was considering drafting Legolas for this venture."
Elrond immediately follows Glorfindel's train of thought. "Brilliant! With any luck, when the arrow hits the Vala-roon will be under enough pressure to shoot itself all the way to Rohan. Legolas can ambush it from five hundred yards away, and no one can blame us!"
They share a smile of dreamy contemplation.Their reverie is interrupted, however, by what sounds like an explosion from outside.Glorfindel dashes, and Elrond sloshes out onto the balcony, where they are met by the sight of a curl of smoke coming from the general vicinity of Erestor's "office".
Glorfindel vaults over the railing, intending to sprint to the scene of the calamity, stops mid-stride, reaches up and drags Elrond over the railing to join him. No easy feat, considering that Elrond is just now reaching the bowlegged phase of his "thawing out" process.
By the time they reach the scene, a crowd has gathered around the wreckage, which is all that is left of Erestor's architectural pride and joy, aside from a few splintered boards still in the smoldering stage.
Erestor, blackened as if he has been dusted with soot everywhere except his eyes, has just crawled out of the crater.
"WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!!!!" Elrond roars.
"A lightning bolt out of the clear blue sky!" Arwen exclaims in awe.
Erestor glares at her suspiciously.
"I swear I had nothing to do with it!" she proclaims, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Look at it this way, Erestor dear..." (Arwen is the picture of feminine compassion and kindness as she gently pats Erestor's hair back into place. Until this point it has been standing on end, giving his head the marked resemblance of a hairy stovepipe) She makes a sweeping gesture around them.
"...At least you still have your bird collection," she says. "We'll stand them back up for you, dust them off a little, and they'll be good as new."
A shadow passes overhead, causing everyone to look up just in time to see an Eagle circling away. A sheet of parchment comes drifting gently down, coming to rest at Erestor's feet. Gingerly, he picks it up, reads it, turns pale under the soot, and shakily hands it to Elrond. Glorfindel reads it over Elrond's shoulder. It is written in mithril ink.
"You have a lot of explaining to do when you get to Valinor. And get rid of the flamingoes. Or Else."
Manwë
Taking pity on his obviously distraught friend, Glorfindel offers the only comfort he can think of.
"There, there, 'Res. We'll replace the computer for you. But it would probably be a good idea not to do any more online shopping for awhile..."
End