*Thwank!*

The elf listened carefully, training his ears to the stairs leading into the attic. It seemed no one had detected him.

*Whomp! Struffle-shuffle- BOOM!*

Listening again, he carefully pulled the acoustic guitar from the box it was propped up on and carried it by the neck to a stool in the corner under the eaves. He wasn't sure who kept moving it and hiding it behind the big fake tree and the boxes of large, plastic, unnaturally colored reindeer and snowmen, but now that he had it again, he didn't care.

His hands caressed the body of the sleek wood, tracing along its curves. Picking up a rag from the nearby table, he dabbed linseed oil on it and began to lovingly rub the instrument, eyes closed as he contemplated his selection for the evening. Tossing the rag aside, he frowned at his initial test of the strings, finding more than one to be flat.

~pwang~pwanga~pwang~pwang~pwing~pwing~pwip~

Glorfindel stared at the damaged instrument, cringing. "I didn't really want to use that string anyhow," he told himself, turning the peg to release the broken string. Fishing around in the box next to the case, he pulled out a paper package and sighed as he went about repairing the string. Experimentally he plucked at the string as he carefully tightened it. Once satisfied, he sat a little straighter on the stool, strumming a chord as the fingers of his other hand played along the fret board.

~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-ca-dow-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdacca-dacca-dow~

"Oh, here's where you are!"

Glorfindel nearly fell from the stool, eyes widened. "Shhhh!"

"Shhhh, yourself. You were making so much noise up here, if it weren't for the fact that everyone is locked outside and Erestor is pretending everyone else doesn't exist, I wouldn't have been the only one to come up here," explained Zhie.

Bowing his head, he sighed. "It still just sounds like noise, doesn't it?"

"No. I meant when you knocked over the box of ornaments and sent the nativity scene crashing to the floor," she said, pointing to the mess. Glorfindel reddened. "Your playing is improving. You're nearly as good as you are with a lute."

Readjusting himself, he propped the guitar back on his knee and tried again.

~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-ca-dow-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdacca-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-ca-dow-dow~
~zaggadacdacdac-dac-dacca-dow~
~zaggadacdacdacca-dacca-dow~

Glorfindel paused and looked up for approval.

"Lovely rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb."

~*Frhhhmmm*~

Laughing, she raised her hand to keep him from taking any further frustration out on the guitar. "Fire on High. And I got it, don't worry, you needn't explain," she added, heading back down the stairs before he started in on the story of the Balrog again.