Glorfindel eyed the small gift sitting on his desk, his brow furrowed slightly. It *had* to be a gift - after all, it was wrapped up in red paper, beautifully tied with gold ribbon. Yet the warrior had no idea who could have possibly left it for him.
He approached his desk warily, as if he expected it to suddenly jump off and bite him on the nose. Glorfindel picked it up and gave it a gentle shake, but this elicited no clues. He set it back down on his desk before sitting down on his chair, his eyes never leaving the present. Did he dare open it?
The warrior shook his head, wondering why he would be dithering over opening a present or not. He knew that if it had been either of the twins, paper and ribbon would long since have been lying on the floor and the gift well examined.
However, the twins expected gifts, whereas Glorfindel did not. But then, he had not thought much about gift-giving. His recent arrival back to Middle-earth had rather taken up his immediate thoughts, and he was still trying to adjust to being out of the Halls.
Once more Glorfindel picked up the gift, turning it this way and that. His curiosity was now getting the better of him, and with his other hand, began undoing the ribbon, smoothing it between his fingers before laying it on the desk. The paper soon followed, leaving Glorfindel holding a small, white box. With almost bated breath, the warrior lifted off the lid. Inside was a piece of parchment. When Glorfindel removed it, he saw that underneath was a gold brooch, very much like the flower that represented his house, and his breath hitched.
Unfolding the parchment, he gazed at the elegant script that adorned it.
Dear Glorfindel, it began
I know that you have found it difficult in adjusting to being re-born. Many things have changed, and I have seen how confusion is often on your face as you try to absorb and understand what is going on around you.
I hope this small gift does not bring back sad memories for you. While the flower represents your house and is a link to your past life, it is given by one who wishes to be a friend to you in the new.
Yours,
Erestor.
Glorfindel read through the message once more, and then looked at the brooch. He smiled. Who would have thought that the seemingly dour chief advisor of Imladris would be the one - apart from Elrond and Celebrían - to extend the hand of friendship?
Pinning the brooch onto his cloak, Glorfindel rose from his chair. It was time to pay his new friend a visit. The idea of being friends with Erestor sent a tingle of anticipation down Glorfindel's spine. There was something about the advisor that had drawn the warrior to Erestor ever since his arrival in Imladris. It was a friendship that Glorfindel was most definitely looking forward to cultivating…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Continues here in the sequel, Friendship Born.