After the gifts were exchanged and the elflings had all gone to bed, the adults would sit around the fire and somehow, someway, the conversation always ended up being quite silly for some reason or another.
“Well, my grandfather actually managed to steal one of the silmarils back,” bragged Valarda smugly.
“And then, he threw it away. Who throws away a silmaril?” questioned Orophin. “I would not. I mean, burned hand be damned, I would keep it!”
“Until you could sell it,” remarked Rumil.
“Until I could sell it.” Orophin moved from his spot next to his wife and plopped himself next to his younger brother. “Good day, sir, can I interest you in this silmaril? Only slightly used, and comes with a small curse—yours only for the low, low price of—“
“Why does it not surprise me that he would pawn a silmaril?” asked Elrond of no one particular.
Elladan smirked and said, “My grandfather still has his silmaril.”
“It is not his, he is only the keeper of it,” corrected Elrond.
“Fine, fine. But he still has one. Somewhere, you know, around and such.”
“My grandfather,” interrupted Legolas, “made it to Middle-earth without killing anyone, founded Greenwood, and never instigated a single war.”
“Your grandfather also put me to sleep in his class. More than once,” added Gildor. “In fact, I used to think that ‘philosophy’ and ‘reverie’ were synonymous!”
This continued for some time, with each finding some reason their grandsire was better than the rest. In one corner of the room, with his mate snuggled close beside him, Erestor listened with great amusement to the friendly debate. Finally, as everyone quieted down, he received a nudge from Glorfindel.
“Well, go on then,” whispered the blond.
Erestor shook his head slightly and finished his wine.
“Do it,” laughed Glorfindel.
The noise caused some of the other occupants of the room to turn their heads or look up, and so Erestor gently shoved Glorfindel off of him and picked up his glass. He walked to the fireplace, ladeling warm wine into his goblet and turned around with an arrogant sort of smirk.
“Well,” he began dramatically, “how ever can I beat all that the rest of you have said? My grandfather merely created the world; the valar, the elder, and, of course, men. He is everywhere, and everything, and all time, before and after. But alas, you all have me beat,” he said, walking back to his spot.
“Show off!” yelled Orophin across the room.
Erestor grinned. “Being an Ainu is so much fun,” he shared with his husband. Glorfindel smiled and nodded, resting his head once more against Erestor’s shoulder.
