Many apologies for the long delay between updates, life has been a little hectic this last few months, so here's an extra long chapter just to make up for it: Celeborn's answers, and meanwhile in Rivendell, Glorfindel finds everyone has a hidden agenda.........

"Aye my lord?" The blond elf straightened to answer Elrond who had appeared in the doorway of his chamber behind him.
"Glorfindel, we have been friends for a long while have we not." Elrond asked gravely.
"Indeed," Glorfindel replied with a smile. "A friendship forged in the heat of combat and tempered in the peace of an age."
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the poetic words of his most trusted aide. "Quite, and so I am accustomed to your rhetoric, however," Glorfindel was taken aback; usually Elrond was most appreciative of a friendly banter of word play. "Circumstances have come to my attention that require a direct answer from you."
Glorfindel nodded in silence. He had come to know when Elrond wished to talk of sombre matters, and for the Lord of Imladris to be so forthright meant the matter was of a most serious nature. And indeed, a look of sorrow seemed etched upon the features of Elrond as he looked about him, intensely gazing at the objects Glorfindel had acquired over the years, reaching out to touch a brooch that had been a gift from the half elf to his second in command.
"So many years." Elrond spoke softly, Glorfindel straining to hear him.
"And all of them pleasant." The blond elf took the opportunity to move closer to Elrond, as he saw the distinct dipping of his chin.
Without seeming to lift his head, Elrond met Glorfindel's gaze. "Truly? Were they?" Lifting his hand from the brooch, Elrond moved it to an ancient knife, well loved, it's handle polished and it's blade bright despite the years of being unused. "So many memories contained in all of these things." His fingers lifted from the knife slowly. Glorfindel smiled, a little sadly, remembering the last time he had wielded that knife, remembering the friends lost that day.
"And as we look upon them, we remember." Glorfindel clasped Elrond's shoulder, wondering what had put his friend in this melancholy mood. Elrond nodded.
"And how long do I have left to look upon you Glorfindel?"
The blond elf's hand froze upon Elrond's shoulder.
"As our people prepare to leave this place, as I prepare to leave, I see what I once saw being packed lovingly, full of cherished memories, to take with us across the water." Elrond's head straightened now. "Rooms, halls, corridors, all become empty, vacant. Except here."
"Elrond, I........." Glorfindel mumbled, trying to make sense of Elrond's words.
"You are not coming with me are you."
And so here was the truth of the matter. Elrond was soon set to sail across the divide between this world and the undying lands, and yet Glorfindel gave no sign of following that call to the sea.
"Elrond, I have lived more than one lifetime upon these lands. I do not know I can give it up so easily."
"You think I leave easily? Do you forget what I leave behind?" Elrond said, his voice quiet but full of emotion, and Glorfindel too swallowed a grimace of pain, feeling the emptiness without the Lady Arwen; how Elrond was feeling to lose his daughter Glorfindel could not imagine. Knowing his friend well, Glorfindel grasped the half elf's shoulders with his hands.
"I will come, I promise you this. I will sail, but not yet. As much as this world holds for me, you forget I have seen the glory of Valinor, and am keen to return. Just not yet."
Elrond, momentarily overcome with grief over the decisions on his daughter and the heartfelt promise of his friend and comrade, could not speak; it was all he could do to return the grip on Glorfindel's shoulders. Without a word he nodded, and with a sad smile, and left.
Glorfindel let out a breath. He closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened again, he found them focused upon the knife, and already in a reminiscent mood, he picked it up, and wrapped it in the soft cloth he used to polish it. Slowly, remembering all that there was, the objects in his room began to dwindle in number. He was barely of time passing, until a voice disturbed him.
"Aye young Masters?" Glorfindel straightened to answer Elladan and Elrohir who had appeared in the doorway of his chamber behind him. It was Elrohir, the youngest of the twins who had spoken, always the more impatient.
"Glorfindel." That was Elladan who spoke this time as he walked further into Glorfindel's chambers. "You have started packing."
Looking around, Glorfindel realised he had put away much more than he had intended, so lost in memory. "It appears I have."
Elladan nodded sagely, glancing briefly at Elrohir as he did. A moment of complete silent understanding passed between them, but one that Glorfindel recognised as these two had developed the habits of their father: one of sorrow.
"We know Ada is leaving so soon, and we have decided to stay and finish all that we have started," Elrohir began, "But we had hoped that you would stay with us a little longer."
"You are no longer elfings, you can look after yourselves." Glorfindel spoke with a blase he did not feel; these two were like family to him, and it hurt him to see them taking his leaving in this way. He sighed, and rested a hand on each twins shoulder. "I made a promise to your father, and now I make one to you. One day I will sail across the sea. Soon, but not yet."
To his delight, each twin let out a cheerful cry, Elrohir wrapping his arms around both other elves, while Elladan gripped Glorfindel's shoulder tightly. "Then all is well." Elrohir said, bounding from the room. Elladan followed more slowly, before turning back to Glorfindel.
"If we stay we lose our parents, if we go we lose our sister, but at least we have you." He strode out, not knowing how Glorfindel felt torn at that moment. Letting out another breath, Glorfindel realised he had packed things which he may now need, and so bent to unpack again.
"Before you ask, aye, I was packing, now I am unpacking, which would you like me to do?" Glorfindel snapped out hastily, before turning to face this new voice. Erestor, Elrond's chief councillor merely stood still for a moment.
"It lies entirely in your hands my friend, I have merely brought a letter that has arrived for you."
Glorfindel dipped his head in shame. "Forgive me, I had no reason to be rash with you." He apologised, but Erestor only shrugged.
"Times grow heavy for us all, for whatever reason; no apology is necessary. However," Erestor indicated the letter in his hand once more, "Should you like to disclose the contents of this correspondence, I would you forgive you most heartily."
Glorfindel smiled, always forthright and usually rude, Erestor never failed to lift his spirits, and so he agreed. He read the first few lines silently to ensure the councillor should not learn anything too advantageous, then aloud, and laughed as Erestor sighed with recognition:

First make a copy of this letter and change the answers so they apply to you. Then send it to all the people you know. You may learn some interesting facts about your friends!

"For a noble born Sindar, Lord Celeborn has odd ideas of entertainment." Erestor proclaimed. "Has he no shame?"
But Glorfindel had already read ahead and sensed the mood of the piece. "It seems I am not the only one to reminiscent in these times." He said as he continued to read:

Name: Celeborn

Nicknames: The Lord of the Galadhrim, although Celebrian used to address me as "Adored", mixing Ada and My Lord. How I do long to see my beloved daughter again.

If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? Having seen the destruction of the forest of Mirkwood, so too do I wish to see it rebuilt to glory. Thranduil and I have made a pact; Southern Mirkwood is now part of Lothlorien's realm, so perhaps there I shall create some new memories and not linger over older, more painful ones.

What is your favourite place to be? Though I have seen many ages, Lothlorien has been my home and resting place, and long will it remain so, at least in my heart.

What is your least favourite place to be? At the same time, these golden woods are tarnished by war and sadness. With their Lady leaving, I fear for the Galadhrim and it grieves me to see even the trees lament in sorrow of her passing.

What is the last good song you heard? The last notes I heard brought tears to my eyes, but not tears of joy I confess. Times are changing, but whether for the better I do not yet know.

What is your favourite colour? I am fond of yellow of any hue, from the paleness of the elanor flower to the burnished gold of the roof of my hall.

What is your favourite smell? Freshly baked lembas bread.

What is your favourite article of clothing? My silver waistcoat. It caused quite a stir in the courts of my kinsman King Elu and Queen Melian.

What makes you angry? Having a spouse who is more renowned than myself. I jest, but those who think only of themselves with no thought to others do anger me greatly.

What time do you wake up in the morning? Recently I have found myself waking with imaginary Orc horns ringing in my ears for a surprise dawn attack. Not the best way to start the day.

Can you juggle? No.

What would you hate to be left in a room with? To be left in an empty room would be horror enough. And there are beginning to be too many empty rooms here at Lothlorien.

Is the goblet half empty or half full? I shall say half full, and hope it to be so.

What is the first thing you think when you wake up? How delightful dear Galadriel looks; even after all this time she remains my lady of light.

What is your favourite form of exercise? A tour of the watch talons, it does me good to meet the ordinary people as a reminder of what we fight for.

Who do you have a crush on at the moment? Galadriel, my light, my life, my love.

What have you got in your pocket? A brooch for my wife, in the shape of a silver tree. One of many parting gifts.

Who is most likely to respond to this letter? I should like to hear from my grandsons. I have not seen them in some time.

Who is least likely to respond to this letter? Celebrian, but I shall hope to see her.

"Perhaps I shall keep him company for a while after the others have sailed." Erestor said thoughtfully. Glorfindel looked up in surprise.
"You do not go with Elrond?"
Erestor shook his head, dark eyes distant. "No, I will remain a while yet. There will be other boats." Glorfindel pursed his lips.
"Then you do not receive the demands that I do." He said, thinking of both Elrond and the twins, but Erestor just laughed.
"I hear the same arguments as you do, and I tell you just the same as I tell them. Whether our people's time on this land lasts a year, a decade, a millennia, what is that time to us? A mere blink of an eye. Whether I stay or go, I shall see them all again, what meaning has time for us? It will pass as it always has for us."
He paused and looked Glorfindel in the eye. "Time may change us, but it will not part us. Do as you will my friend, for I look forward to when we will meet again, whenever and where ever it may be."
Glorfindel could only nod, stuck as usual by Erestor's honesty, and how truthful it was. "And so I leave you to your........." The councillor could not think of a word and so chose honesty again. "To your mess." He bowed his head in parting and left Glorfindel sat amongst the remnants of his room, undecided now where he should even begin to bring some order to the chaos. He was spared any decision however as a new voice called from his doorway.

Poor Glorfindel, will he ever find peace? Now there are some who say Glorfindel of Rivendell was not the reincarnation of the legendary Glorfindel of Gondolin but is just named after him, but to make his answers a little more interesting, I've decided to make him born again - hope that makes things clearer. Again, apologies for the long delay and thanks for the reviews from old and new readers; all nominations are being included, have no fear! Until next time!