This is for Sixty-four K! Congratulations on being the first person to find the message hidden in my profile! I hope you enjoy! ...This is very weird, though (the weirdest I've written, I think), so I won't really be offended if all you can do is stare at me with a horrified look on your face... It is Glorfindel Angst though, I suppose, so...yep! Enjoy!

He was choking.

Or, perhaps, not. He was gasping, lungfuls of salty water scratching his throat as he coughed it onto the sand that he could feel rubbing into his knees and feet.

There was a vague sensation of someone hitting his back, and then a hand caught his chin and tilted his head downwards, aiding him in getting the liquid out of his lungs and chest. Bile churned in his stomach but the water was gone.

He could feel the ocean behind him licking at his feet.

Hands grasped under his arms and pulled him up, and he stumbled for a moment, but the person caught him. His feet slid on the sand as he tried to keep up with the other, waterlogged hair dragging him down, yet whoever held him was strong, abnormally so, and pulled him back up easily.

That was when he realized his eyes were caked shut – with sand, maybe, or something else – but he couldn't open them.

Only a moment later his head spun sickeningly and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

He woke to the sound of a fire crackling near his head. A rough blanket was wrapped around him, and the sun shone brightly on his face. He could feel sand shifting beneath him when he moved to sit up, but nausea rose in his throat and he fell back.

Something rustled behind him. "I see you're awake," said a voice behind him, smooth yet oddly harsh with disuse. Footsteps padded to him, stopping by his head, and he heard the shuffle of clothing as someone crouched beside him.

He forced his eyes to open, sand falling from the corners of his eyes, and his gaze drifted upward. Grey eyes, flecked with bits of green, stared back down at him dispassionately. He started at the closeness, and the person moved back a little.

"You've slept for two hours," said that strange person.

He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a barking cough.

"Hm." The person stood up and moved away to the fire, staying within his line of sight. "You're an interesting specimen," they said over a shoulder. "Washing up from the ocean? That's certainly an interesting way to meet someone. A good conversation starter, perhaps. I usually only find fish and sea-creatures near the sea."

He stared at this person, who seemed to have...saved him? It was an odd savior to be sure; the person was tall, broad-shouldered and dark-haired, wore old and tattered clothes, and yet spoke and walked with an elegance one might think royalty to posses.

"Of course, I do know who you are," said they. "It's not everyday one finds a blond-haired Noldo drifting amongst the waves – and the elf clothed in battle armour and a golden-flower insignia no less. You're Lord Glorfindel? I lost your armour though, pulling you from the ocean. It weighed you down too much."

He managed to grunt, but that person just tossed a stick into the fire. "I hadn't heard much of the battle in Gondolin," they continued, "but I thought I'd hear a tale or two of the Fall of Glorfindel. How is it that you're here, now?"

The person turned now, smiling. "The Valar are kind, though, aren't they? Never has word been heard of the dead returning from the Halls. But here, we have a mighty warrior come to live among us once more!" There was a laugh.

Yes...he was Glorfindel. He had forgotten.

He remembered now, and the reason he had come back. What he had been told...his mission, of sorts.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

His voice was back.

"Lord..." he rasped out, and grey-green eyes lit in interest. "Lord Elrond," he managed to continue. "Son of Eärendil. Turgon's heir, I think. I must find him."

"Indeed." The person clasped hands behind a ragged shirt, smiling again. "How is the little one? I've wondered. I miss him so, and his brother. Do you think they've managed well?"

Glorfindel (he had a name, now, he felt as though he shouldn't) let his head fall back to the blanket folded beneath his head. His throat hurt.

"Someone was looking for me a few weeks ago," said the person, as though talking to no one. "The only reason I came back here was because...oh, I don't know. Maybe I was looking for driftwood. I found something, at least!"

Glorfindel's eyes fell shut of their own volition, and he heard no more.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

"Glad to see you join us once more," said that odd voice again when Glorfindel woke again. He was sitting up this time, leaning against a tree with bark that cut into his bare back.

There was something being played next to him. He turned his head, a strange feeling of hair sliding over his chest that he missed, and saw that person again, a small harp propped in their lap.

"It's relaxing," they said, nimble fingers lazily plucking one string at a time. "It doesn't work unless I use hair for the strings, did you know?"

He hadn't known.

"Elf hair, that is." A low laugh. "Human hair doesn't work, and neither does the usual – split tendons from the bone. I tried it. I use my own hair now; no one comes near me on the beach. Of course, they never see me."

Glorfindel's gaze lingered over the strings, vibrating slowly as the person strummed them. Most were black, but a few were an odd color...gold.

"I hope you don't mind. I used a bit of your hair. It seems to work, I think yours is softer than mine. I had to wind it tightly." Teeth bared in a smile. "Do you know what we're waiting for here? Perhaps you wonder why we're sitting by a grove of trees, the sun going down..."

He hadn't, but now he did.

The person leaned forward as if to whisper a secret, then said, "We're waiting for the evening patrol. They always come by about this time – perhaps an hour, maybe less. Ah! I should do something so you don't become impatient."

Glorfindel kept his eyes on the strange elf, but his head slowly fell backwards until it hit the tree he was leaning against. Weariness pulled at his eyes, but it wasn't enough to cause him to sleep again.

"I should sing," they mused. "Would you like that? I could sing something for you, to entertain. Oh...no. No, I couldn't." A shake of a dark head. "I don't sing now. I haven't sung for a long time. I don't dance either. Did I ever dance before, do you think?"

"Why not?" Glorfindel said, his voice gravelly, and he coughed.

"Why not? Why not sing? Oh." The person frowned. "I don't know. I can't, I suppose."

"You could try," he suggested wearily, looking at that strange harp (was the support some type of bone? he couldn't tell) and the dark tangled hair.

"Try? Indeed." A few more strings were plucked, and then the person laughed. "Try. No one's ever told me that before. Do you know what I think? You're my imagination. An odd one, though. I usually don't imagine strange elf lords. It's always been others."

Glorfindel stared out at the ocean, waves lapping mildly at the shore. The sun was setting in the distance, but it looked...disproportionate, like something was false about it.

"Oh! Sing! I can do that." The person frowned, gazing up for a moment, then smiled broadly. "Not a long one, I don't think. Perhaps a ditty. Something short."

"You do that," Glorfindel breathed, but he didn't think the other heard him.

"Laces and flowers," sang the person quietly, tugging at a few strings. "Silver deckings, crystal fountains. The birds set in their perches, the moon floats in the...starlight..."

He hadn't heard that one before.

"Night ends with a fire..." The soft voice fell quieter, and Glorfindel had to strain to hear it. "Flames dance in the water... And arrows fly! Bodies burn! Trees fall with resounding echoes...!" A flourish in the ending, and the strings snapped beneath the pressure.

"Oh, it's broken!" The harp was thrown and landed somewhere in the sand beyond them both. "I can make another, no bother." The person smiled, teeth gleaming in the sun's last light. "How was it? It doesn't rhyme, I know, but it was a favorite of mine once. Once, long ago," he added in a sing-song undertone.

Glorfindel stared at the sand, at the two pair of footsteps that led to where they sat, and the fragile, broken harp that lay feet from him. He looked back at his peculiar savior, and then his eyes flew wide in shock. "I know you!"

"Whoops." The person stood hastily, staring down the shoreline. "The border guards are coming to rescue you. I must leave." Grabbing the remains of the broken harp, a smile was cast at Glorfindel. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Glorfindel of Fallen Gondolin!" Madness danced in those gray-green eyes, and then the person was gone, darting down the sand on nimble, bare feet.

"No!" Glorfindel lunged to his feet, barely catching himself on the tree when he stumbled. "I know who you are! Come back! Come back!"

There was a laugh and then they were gone, dark hair waving as they vanished around a grove of trees.

Exhaustion overcame him then, and he dropped back to the ground, but he was staring hard after where his rescuer had vanished. "I know you..." he whispered.

The sun dipped beneath the horizon.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

(When the guards went by just minutes later, they found an unconscious golden-haired elf lying propped up against a tree. It was curious, that he was there – no footprints led to him, and he hadn't been there two hours earlier when they had checked this area. His hair was shorn to his shoulders, and he wore nothing but breeches with a golden flower sewn into the right leg, and a blanket wrapped about his torso.

He screamed for hours when they woke him.)

I don't even know. Just...okay. Review, and you get free donuts!