With his hand poised to knock, Glorfindel stood rooted in his place outside the tall oaken door. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing so that he would appear calm. Unable to see any windows where he was, he missed the streak of lightning. The thunder caught him off guard and he inadvertently hit his knuckles against the door.
Running away was not an option, so he willed his body not to tremble as it was. When the door opened, however, he practically flew inside. “Good, you are still awake!” he said as he passed by the disheveled advisor, who appeared to have only just tumbled out of bed.
“Good morning,” Erestor half-mumbled in regards to the early hour. “Something the matter?” he asked with a yawn.
“What? No, I just came to see if you were doing alright. Because of the storm,” lied Glofindel. He whimpered as another lightning strike lit up the sky and covered his ears, cowering when the crash and roar came through the air.
Erestor, more awake now, retied the sloppy knot he had made putting a robe on and went to shut the window. “Storm should pass in an hour or so,” he said in hopes of comforting his friend. He walked to Glorfindel and led him to the bed. “Here, the walls are thicker in my room, I think. Sleep here; you will not fall victim to Manwe and Ulmo’s fun in this room.”
“It is not Manwe or Ulmo who are tormenting me,” said Glorfindel. “’Tis Irmo and his wicked dreams. You would think it would be enough for me to have lived through my death not to have to relive it in my dreams.” Another boom sounded outside, and this one was indeed more subdued now that the window was closed, but frightened Glorfindel no less. “You know, I used to like the rain,” he reminded Erestor as he was tucked into bed.
“I know,” nodded the elder elf sympathetically, fluffing up the pillow before easing Glorfindel’s head upon it.
“Where are you sleeping?” asked Glorfindel with concern as Erestor went to the fire and added wood to it.
Erestor pointed to the desk. “I have some work I should finish. You rest; I am here to keep the demons at bay.”
They had both forgotten about the door to the hallway being open, and when Erestor looked there now he was surprised to see a little peredhel dragging a worn green blanket behind her. “Uncle Finny, I went to Nana when the thunder started but the door was locked and the thunder noises were worse there, and I came to your room and you were gone!” She invited herself in, dragging the blanket across the floor. “Nana says I am too big to sleep in bed with her and Ada now.” The thunder crashed above the house and Arwen shrieked and grabbed her blankie close. “I thought I would crawl in with you because El’n’El would tease me if I went to them but you were gone!”
Glorfindel was sitting up, nearly about to get out of bed. “I am not gone, sweet little flower. Come; I will walk you to your room and sit with you while the storm passes.”
“You just came from patrol. Ada says never to bother you when you get back from one.” More thunder, another whine. “But I could not help it I am so scared the house will fall down!” she finished quickly, rushing up into Glorfindel’s arms, her blanket left discarded on the floor.
Erestor came to retrieve the precious remnant of a quilt that once was and handed it back to Arwen. “This house will never fall. It is good and strong, built in part by your father with his two hands. Nothing he built would ever dare fall,” Erestor assured her.
“Were you going to sleep in Erestor’s bed?” asked Arwen, suddenly realizing where she had found Glorfindel.
“I-“
“Can I sleep in here, too?” Arwen turned her pout to the chief counselor. Her sorrowful grey eyes finally made him smile and nod.
“Of course you can. Both of you, in bed now,” instructed Erestor.
“I do not suppose you have room for one or two more?” asked a voice timidly from the hallway. Elladan and Elrohir stood in the doorway, each of them clutching the other’s hand behind Elladan’s back so that no one would see how afraid they were of the thunder.
Erestor lifted up the corner of the blanket and made a wave of his hand toward the bed. Scampering into the room, the twins clambered up onto the mattress as if they were no more than elflings as well.
Arwen frowned. “You are too big, you will ruin the bed,” she scolded her brothers, but when the bed seemed not to move one bit beneath the weight, she sighed and said, “Fine, but you have to share that side of Glorfindel. I get this side.”
“Are you afraid of the thunder, too?” Elrohir asked Glorfindel once the four of them were tucked in by Erestor, who pulled a chair up to the side of the bed.
Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably, and then said, “The roaring thunder sounds a lot like an angry balrog.” He, and the children, all shivered at the word.
“There are none of those here. Only rain, falling down from the sky again, as it always does, and ever will. We are all perfectly safe here,” Erestor assured them. “Now, go to sleep, the lot of you.”
There was silence until Arwen asked, “Uncle Erestor?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“May I have a drink of water?”
Erestor opened his eyes (for he had been attempting a little sleep on his chair) and located the pitcher of water and a glass. After fulfilling her request, he heard one of the twins clearing his throat on the other side of the bed. “Are you thirsty, too, Elladan?”
“I think I am,” replied Elladan sheepishly. A second glass was brought to him, and after he drank it, Elrohir asked, “Is there any water left?”
“Yes, but I have run out of cups,” explained Erestor.
“He can use mine,” Elladan assured the dark advisor, holding out the empty glass.
As the third glass of water was poured, Glorfindel gave a little sigh. “All of this talk of water coupled with the rain-“
“You know where the chamber pot is,” spoke Erestor. “That, I am NOT bringing to the bed for you.” The peredhil all laughed as Glorfindel stuck out his tongue and wriggled himself out of the middle of the bed, climbing over the end of it to get to the little washroom.
Once everyone was situated again, another request came from Arwen. “I need a song. Or a story. Or both.”
So she got three songs, and two stories, and a poem, and another glass of water, followed by a trip to the restroom herself. It was not until dawn was just breaking that finally she fell asleep. Her brothers had done so an hour earlier, and Glorfindel was now yawning and getting a glazed look over his eyes as the last reminders of the storm could only be faintly heard in the distance.
Fighting to keep awake in his chair, Erestor saw a worried Lady Celebrian pass by in the hallway. He hissed in her direction that she should return, not wishing to wake the occupants of his bed.
“Oh, there they are,” she whispered with a sigh of relief. “Last night the storm was so bad, Elrond and I plugged our ears with wax to keep from hearing that terrible thunder. I woke this morning, and found Arwen gone from her bed. The twins were not in theirs either, and when I knocked on Glorfindel’s door, he was gone, too.”
“This is where they ended up,” confirmed Erestor as if the sight was not proof enough. “Would you-“ He yawned. “-would mi-i-i-nnd-“ Another yawn. “Telling Elrond I shall be late for work this morning?”
Celebrian frowned. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“A little,” said Erestor as he rubbed his eyes. “I just need to take a cold shower and get dressed-“
“No, do not dare,” she said softly, laughing and shaking her head. “Go on, get into bed.”
“What, here?”
“’Tis your bed,” she reminded him, turning down the covers on the side Arwen occupied. She picked the little girl up into her arms and pointed at the available spot while her daughter instinctively reached her arms around her mother’s neck and snuggled against her, blankie tightly held in one hand. Walking around to the other side as Erestor sat down on the vacated spot, Celebrian roused the twins and prodded them from the bed, telling them to go to their rooms and take a nap.
Erestor glanced at the near empty bed, and looked up with the same look that Arwen had given him hours earlier. Celebrian snorted.
“That one does not belong to me,” she said with amusement. “And I am not carrying him back to his bed.” With that, she left the room and shut the door behind her.
With a sigh, Erestor pulled the covers up and rested his head on the pillow. The movement jostled the bed enough to wake Glorfindel. He sleepily turned his head and blinked. “Erestor? What is going on?”
“Shh.. go back to sleep. You are just dreaming,” replied the dark elf, nodding off as Glorfindel fell asleep again.
Back in her room, Celebrian stretched and roused her husband, who complained of the time. “Why did you get me up so late, Bri?”
Pulling back the curtains to let the light shine in, she replied, “Your sons and daughter were up half the night, so I had to put the children to bed.” She paused and added, “All five of them.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Glorfindel has a nightmare