“Of the metals, gold is far more precious. Why, therefore, covet silver above it?”
“Silver is like the stars,” explained Erestor. “It reminds us where we came from, and who we are.” He watched his friend polish his armor, damasked in fine detail. “Why gold, then?”
“I suppose it reminds me where I came from. My house, for one, the sun, for the other. I do not have such memories as you,” Glorfindel reminded Erestor. “My days of youth were spent beneath Anor, not the blessed jewels of Elbereth.”
Erestor nodded. “Dangerous, though. Your armor does not camouflage you. You stand out among the sea of silver.”
“Yes, I know,” said Glorfindel. “But then, there are a million stars, and yet still only one sun.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Glorfindel, Erestor