This is a series of interconnected oneshots, all dealing with Elrond and Glorfindel and their "getting to know you" stage of meeting. THIS IS NOT SLASH. OK? Anyone who thinks it is, please go read Laws and Customs of the Eldar. Please? It can even be found online...

"Do you know him?"

"Have you seen him before?"

"No, have you?"

"Who is he?"

The ellon grinned inwardly as his sharp ears picked up on the whispers. Any insular group had its gossips, whether they be Elven, Mortal or otherwise, and it appeared Lindon was no exception. He idly wondered what they would be saying when they learned who he actually was.

"Do you know who the mortal is?"

"No, but he looks like a Númenórean."

"True. He walks like a seafarer."

"From the Star Isle itself then, and not a colony?"

The ellon looked at his companion. Tall, but still shorter than most elves, dark shoulder length hair, and piercing grey eyes. He seemed to be a mortal version of the Noldor. And he was from the Star Isle, though as a Captain, he spend most of his time on the ocean.

"I've never seen hair that color."

"Its very golden."

"Some of the Sindar have that color hair."

"Very few. Most elves I saw with hair that color were Vanyar, or had Vanyarin heritage."

"When did you meet any Vanyar?"

So the attention was back on him. He eyed his golden locks. It was Vanyarin gold. His ammë had been a Vanya, and he had inherited his coloring from her. It explained the blue eyes as well. His atar had been a Noldo though, and he had always considered himself of that kindred.

"They're going to the palace."

"I wonder what business they have there?"

"Well, we'll find out."

"I wonder if…"

The ellon sighed, hoping this wouldn't be blown completely out of proportion. Then he turned with a brilliant smile to his companion. "Captain, I truly appreciate you escorting me here, but you do have your ship to see to. I will be perfectly alright."

The Man shook his head good-naturally. "The first mate is perfectly capable of seeing to the needs of the ship, My Lord. I promised your friends that I would see you safely to the court of Gil-galad, and that is what I intend to do. Your friends would probably have my head, otherwise."

The Elf Lord shook his head but said nothing. He wouldn't put it past his friends. They could be intimidating when they wanted to be. Not to mention overprotective.

The palace at Lindon was beautiful, a mixture of Noldorin and Sindarin sensibilities. It reminded him of home, a home now buried beneath the waves. He shook his head softly. It still amazed him that less than five hundred years could have such a profound impact on him, but they did.

The formal, weekly court was winding down when they arrived. The Elf was rather amazed they had arrived perfectly on time for this audience, but then, considering who sent him, perhaps not.

The Mortal and the Elf waited until it seemed everyone had finished. Then the Captain stepped forward.

"My Lord King, two weeks ago I was at my home in Adúnië, when I was approached by a group of elves from Tol Eressëa and Aman. I regularly transport passengers to and from Númenor, and they engaged me to escort one from Aman to your court here in Lindon. They assured me they had full blessings of the Valar, and I saw no reasons to disbelieve them."

That certainly caused a stir.

"And who is this traveller?" demanded Gil-galad. The golden haired ellon stepped forward.

"That would be me,," he stated, softly, but in a voice that would carry. "I am Glorfindel. Formerly of Gondolin." His eyes sought out one standing by Gil-galad, now staring at him intently.

"You look like your great-grandfather," Glorfindel said to the startled Peredhel. Then he turned back to Gil-galad.

"I assure you I am here with the permission of the Valar." He grinned, eyes lighting with humor. "I wouldn't dare leave Aman without it again. Sailing is a good deal more comfortable than walking."

The comment had a twofold reaction. The first was humor, as the remark had a wry edge, with a serious undertone. That undertone was understood by many, and it served to remind them of the stories still told about this Elf, an age and a half after the flight of the Noldor.

"I can imagine." Gil-galad said dryly. After all, his family had ended up crossing the Helcaraxë as well. "But why have the Valar granted you permission to return to Middle-earth?"

Glorfindel paused, thoughtful. "First, I had a desire to return. I had sworn an oath to protect the family of my King, and could not fulfill it on the other side of the Sundering Sea. The Valar agreed I could return if I would be willing to act as messenger. I also came of the behalf of an old friend."

Gil-galad raised an eyebrow at that. "Perhaps we should change this conversation to a more private venue then," he said. "Is anyone else who wishes an audience at this time?" When it was determined there was no one, Gil-galad arose. "Lord Glorfindel, Elrond, if you will follow me?"

They followed Gil-galad to a beautiful private garden. Glorfindel tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the sun that was about halfway between its zenith and the horizon. Catching the amused looks the other two gave him, he smiled.

"I remember when Anar rose for the first time," he commented softly. "She was glorious, even more so than Isil. In the long centuries since, I have never lost my appreciation for the light and warmth she brings."

The younger elves did not seem to know what to say to that. Finally Gil-galad spoke.

"I admit I am quite curious. All knowledge of your story on this side of the sea ends with the fall of Gondolin."

Glorfindel sighed, his eyes taking on a faraway and sad look. "What can I say? One minute I was falling and the next I was in Mandos. I was reborn approximately six hundred years after the beginning of this age. I was content for a while, enjoying the peace of the Blessed Realm, but as I learned of events that had occurred after my death, I grew discontent. I travelled to Elwing's tower, and there I found many from Doriath and Gondolin. I reforged friendships with those I had known, and many new ones, but my discontent continued to grow.

"I believe Eärendil finally asked the Valar if I would be permitted to return so I would stop driving everyone crazy. They agreed, on the condition that I act as messenger. Eärendil also asked that I protect you, Elrond, and I swore that I would." Glorfindel grinned. "So here I am, back on shores I never thought I would see again," he said lightly.

Elrond blinked, stunned. He could hardly remember his father. And yet his father had worried about him enough to send one to protect him. Deciding this train of thought would get him no where right now, he shoved it to the back corner of his mind, locking it away until he could deal with it.

Gil-galad was also slightly stunned. Not that Eärendil would want to send someone to watch over his son, he could remember well that Eärendil was concerned when he had to leave his family, and Glorfindel by all accounts had been close to the young prince of Gondolin. No, it was the fact that the Valar had been willing to send an elf back, with a message…

"What message did the Valar wish you to convey?" Gil-galad asked, almost hesitant, unsure he wanted to know.

Glorfindel grew serious again. "Darkness is rising again," he said bluntly, peering into Gil-galad's eyes. "But this is no surprise to you," he continued. He sighed. "The Valar will not intercede again. Too much was lost the last time they did. And although they did not say it, I believe they feel this is a foe we can defeat."

"That doesn't limit it much." Elrond pointed out, a small smile on his face. "You yourself have proven that we can defeat even one of the Maiar."

Glorfindel sighed. "That thought did occur to me," he admitted. "Especially when Finrod was not allowed to return as well. I thought at the time it was because he is haryon to the Noldóran, but when I was allowed to come back…" He shrugged. "Regardless, that is mere speculation at this point."

"Finrod has been reborn?" Gil-galad said, startled. Glorfindel nodded. "Alone out of the house of Finwë, he has been released from Mandos."

Gil-galad sighed, running a hand though his braided locks. "Well, Glorfindel, you have given us much to think on. Perhaps you would care for a tour of Lindon?" At Glorfindel's agreement, Elrond offered to accompany him. Gil-galad watched them go, musing on all he had learned. Then he grinned. What were the gossips going to say about this one?

I'm not going to stick to a set update schedule for these. It will be whenever the muse (or writer's block) strikes.