A great battle took place in the city of Gondolin where Glorfindel and Ecthelion lived. Little did they know when the battle began that they would meet again not in the halls of their beloved realm, but in the halls of waiting. There were others, many others, and also those who had perished before Gondolin fell. Among them, the parents of an elfling who ran away from home because he could not be accepted for what he was. So often in the still nothingness he had finally come to accept, he would call out to them, knowing they were there, hoping they would answer.

"Oh, my father, why don't you talk to me now? Oh, my mother, do you still cry yourself to sleep? Are you still proud of your little boy?"

Time and again he called to them, but there was no response. He yearned to weep, to curl into a ball, to hide in a corner, but none were possible. So he continued to call out in hopes someone would call back. Finally, he received an answer.

~Don't be afraid. You don't have to hide away.~

There was nothing familiar about the voice, but there was something comforting about it as it continued.

~Don't be afraid. Love will mend your broken wing. Time will slip away. Learn to be brave.~

"Ecthelion?"

~No, you are not in his house, my child, you are in mine.~

"Namo."

~I have something to give to you. Something to give you hope.~

What Glorfindel was given gave him hope, and light, and happiness for all the long years he would spend waiting until he was reawakened. It was something so simple, and something indescribable, and something he would cherish forever.