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zhieexcerpt:
“Good evening, Lord Erestor.”
“Good evening!” Erestor had just sat down at one of the long tables. They were crude, and had benches alongside them instead of chairs, but they were cozy and welcome after an evening of dancing. The city was not yet built completely, with only two finished gates surrounding the realm. Nonetheless, it was not a night to worry about the lack of plumbing or the lack of housing or the lack of security, but instead a time for relaxation. A server came to the table, and Erestor lifted an empty goblet to be filled. The blond who had sat down opposite him shook his head and lifted up his open palm when the server offered wine to him as well. As they were left alone, Erestor lifted his goblet up. “Cheers!”
“Cheers.” The blond waited for Erestor to set his drink back down before he said, “You do not remember me, do you.”
Erestor tried to tame his smirk, but failed miserably. “I fear you are correct, friend. I am certain I have seen you about, and—“
“Lord Ecthelion introduced us when you arrived.”
“And... you work in his house,” guessed Erestor.
The blond shook his head.
“You... you happen to be related?”
There was a wide grin, and the blond twirled a lock of his hair.
“Alright, that must not be it. I must apologize; I have a terrible memory for names.”
“Glorfindel.”
“Oh! Yes... oh, and you were trying to give me a hint as to your name.”
Glorfindel smiled brightly. “Now that you know, it will be hard for you to forget. So few have so accurate a namesake as I.” For emphasis, he fluffed out the waves of gold that flowed over his shoulder.
“How true. And might I be so bold as to ask, for it is on my mind now as it was when we first met, are you of Vanyarin heritage?”
“It was what my mother claimed.” The smile faded, and he fell momentarily silent as a minstrel with all the flair and folly of a jester skipped up to their table and held out a brightly wrapped cracker to the pair.
“Good evening, Lord Erestor.”
“Good evening!” Erestor had just sat down at one of the long tables. They were crude, and had benches alongside them instead of chairs, but they were cozy and welcome after an evening of dancing. The city was not yet built completely, with only two finished gates surrounding the realm. Nonetheless, it was not a night to worry about the lack of plumbing or the lack of housing or the lack of security, but instead a time for relaxation. A server came to the table, and Erestor lifted an empty goblet to be filled. The blond who had sat down opposite him shook his head and lifted up his open palm when the server offered wine to him as well. As they were left alone, Erestor lifted his goblet up. “Cheers!”
“Cheers.” The blond waited for Erestor to set his drink back down before he said, “You do not remember me, do you.”
Erestor tried to tame his smirk, but failed miserably. “I fear you are correct, friend. I am certain I have seen you about, and—“
“Lord Ecthelion introduced us when you arrived.”
“And... you work in his house,” guessed Erestor.
The blond shook his head.
“You... you happen to be related?”
There was a wide grin, and the blond twirled a lock of his hair.
“Alright, that must not be it. I must apologize; I have a terrible memory for names.”
“Glorfindel.”
“Oh! Yes... oh, and you were trying to give me a hint as to your name.”
Glorfindel smiled brightly. “Now that you know, it will be hard for you to forget. So few have so accurate a namesake as I.” For emphasis, he fluffed out the waves of gold that flowed over his shoulder.
“How true. And might I be so bold as to ask, for it is on my mind now as it was when we first met, are you of Vanyarin heritage?”
“It was what my mother claimed.” The smile faded, and he fell momentarily silent as a minstrel with all the flair and folly of a jester skipped up to their table and held out a brightly wrapped cracker to the pair.
