Undone

Glorfindel started at the sound of someone entering the stables.
Perhaps the stable boy was still about. He was a brave lad and his
love of the horses would not keep him away long. Glorfindel turned to
speak, but the words caught short in his throat as the March Warden
came into view. Glorfindel turned back to Asfaloth his anger barely
contained. Had this insolent pup followed him here, perhaps to finish
what he started? The seneschals hand closed in a fist. He would not be
taken so easily this time.

Haldir took a step back, wanting desperately to leave, but knowing
that avoiding Glorfindel was nearly impossible. He could see that the
other elf was tense and rightfully so. Mental images of the unspoken
ordeal between them flashed before Haldir's mind and he grimaced.
Yes, he had done those things. He swallowed hard, the barrage of
pictures leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He would not run away
from this, but rather face such things as he had always done, with
pride and dignity, and perhaps this time, with a kind word, although
he doubted that words could soothe the indignity the seneschal had
suffered at his hands.

"My Lord Glorfindel," Haldir began, addressing the elf as
respectfully as possible, "I mean you no harm. I have merely come to
retrieve my vestments." The archer held his hands out, palms up,
showing that he bore no weapon.

Glorfindel could not look up to meet the Elf 's gaze, by the Valar,
he had faced the Morgath darkness with less apprehension. Stroking
his fingers along Asfaloth's muzzle, Glorfindel replied coolly.

"Then retrieve them, Haldir it wit would not suit someone of your..
station .... to be seen unsuitably attired"

The ice in the seneschal's tone froze Haldir's already stiffened heart
into a momentary stillness and the archer flinched. "Glorfindel,"
Haldir said, boldly taking a step towards the bristling elf. "I must.
. . speak with you."

Glorfindel turned on the advancing Elf, his anger pushing away any
dignified response. "And what would you say to me, *gwarth? Perhaps
you would ask to sign your masterpiece. I hear it is a wonderful eneseness."

Glorfindel's color began to rise. and he stepped towards the March
Warden, his eyes flashing.

"Well...." the seneschal paused, crossing his arms about his chest."
Speak up .... I grow weary of this game."

Although the seneschal had every right to his fury, Haldir could not
suppress a snarl of his own.

"Do you honestly BELIEVE that I wished to do those. . .th-those THINGS
to you?!" he growled, seeking to suppress the growing rage he felt
within himself as it peaked into a boiling anger.

His usually calm and somewhat haughty demeanor faltered gratuitously
beneath the cloak of regret and despair, the unintentional wounds of
Legolas all too fresh within his memory. He rubbed at his eyes once
more, shaking his head, for they felt as dry as sand and sticky as a
freshly oozing cut. Caught between emotional weakness and the great
need to repent, he clenched his teeth, struggling valiantly to still
his insurmountable grief, both ashamed and enraged that he could not.

Glorfindel was not surprised by the March Warden's reply. It was so
typical of the haughty Lorien Elf to turn the attention back to
himself. But there was something different about him, some thing in
his eyes did not reflect the fire spewing from his mouth.

Glorfondel swallowed hard, his posture relaxing. There were tears
forming in the March Warden's eyes. Tears that he was having a great
deal of trouble concealing. Haldir of Lorien was not one to show much
emotion and this fact alone doused the seneschal' s rage.

Glorfindel turned back towards his horse. "Retrieve your clothing
Haldir..."