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A/N: some research on Elven heraldry shows that Elwë's devices had silver and blue in them. I'm giving Losgael a minor noble ancestry. Though she is related to a great Elven king, she is not directly descended from him or anything. She's like a distant cousin. If she was English, she would be “The Honourable Losgael.”

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Glorfindel's heraldic colours are actually green and gold. I'm also going with the idea of Glorfindel as the Balrog-slayer.

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It came in a special shoe box bundled with a retail copy of the game which had a foil cover, the PSP-2000 (slim) unit covered in Tetsuya Nomura artwork, and a Buster Sword strap. The PlayStation Portable is region free, meaning the console can play any games from around the world, but it cannot play UMD movies from the USA.
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The first three days of the festival passed in a happy blur of activity. Those who had been chosen for the roles were, in effect, the masters of ceremonies, and had the responsibility of deciding what sort of thing was going to happen next. While they did not know exactly what was going to be performed, they could order dances, songs, storytelling or lampoons. They could order other things, ask people to fetch and carry, or even do silly things. Some people took their authority more seriously than others, but it was unheard-of for anyone to disobey and order from the king or queen of the festival. Maerdess appointed herself lady-in-waiting to Losgael. She ran errands and helped to keep the festival running smoothly. “Have you seen how Maerdess runs around serving Losgael?” asked Anuhim. “Anyone would think Losgael was a truly a queen of Elves, and not just for a few days.” “Ah,” replied Buiowen, “Losgael was kind to her when others were not, and she wishes to repay her in whatever way she can. Honouring her thus is the only thing she can think of.” “Yes indeed,” said Anuhim, slightly embarrassed. “The lampoons we made of her could be quite cruel at times. Still, she appears to have accepted them with good grace.” “She is most forgiving,” Buiowen said, and a blush reddened her face. “I made her look very foolish, and she has not said one word of reproach to me about it.” “Perhaps she did not recognize herself in the way she was portrayed,” suggested Anuhim. “'If you aim at a stone wall,'” quoted Buiowen, “'you will surely strike it.' She may not have done the things we mocked her for, Anuhim.” “In that case,” he replied, “we only mocked ourselves, and she had the last laugh. I agree, she is a better person than people know, and I am glad you did that lampoon, even if it was about someone dear to my heart.” “What do you like about her?” asked Buiowen, intrigued. She had known that Anuhim liked Brethilgwen for some time, but could never work out why he liked the acid-tongued lady. “Well,” replied Anuhim, “she is talented in many ways, strong-willed, and a fearsome enemy in an argument!” Buiowen baulked. A person with those qualities could be considered worthy of respect, perhaps even fear, but how could anyone who loved someone describe her thus? “Do you love her?” she asked quietly. “Yes I do!” declared Anuhim. “And I think she loves me too.” With a wan smile, Buiowen asked, “Why are you glad we did that lampoon?” “Because,” said Anuhim, “Brethilgwen sometimes thinks she is invincible. At those times, she becomes difficult, and I find that my love for her is stretched and becomes frayed. She needed to be reminded that she is a servant, and cannot be numbered with the nobility, however much she thinks she ought to be. Loving someone sometimes means that you have to see them being hurt, and do nothing about it because it is necessary for them to be chastened.” Considering this, Buiowen said, “I have seen her helping to arrange things for the festival. She has been quiet, and kept mostly to herself. Perhaps we should remind her that although there are things about her that annoy us, she is loved in truth.” “I keep thinking of Maerdess,” confided Anuhim. “I am not sure if she ever had anyone to remind her she was loved in truth. She never seemed to have any friends until recently.” “You mean Losgael?” asked Buiowen. “Indeed,” replied Anuhim. “I heard she spent most of her time in the sewing room, but kept to herself as a rule,” Buiowen said with a shrug. “Everything seems to be changing here in Rivendell.” “Yes,” agreed Anuhim, “and I think it is all for the better.” <Hr /> During the days of the festival, everyone would prepare for the evening festivities. Soiled tableware would be cleared away and washed, lanterns would be checked and refilled, and and the food and wine would be set out ready for the evening. The duties of the king and queen were to oversee this. Sometimes they would change the way things were laid out, or decide on a particular theme for the decorations. Losgael and Glorfindel worked closely together, taking their responsibilities seriously. Glorfindel was particularly impressed with Losgael's artistic flair when it came to decorating, and she liked his taste in music and the order he decided for the various entertainments. “I like the way you have done that,” he said, in praise of the colour scheme she had decided on for the lanterns, cloths and streamers. “Well, green and gold are the colours of your house,” she answered, “and I thought that, since you are the king of the festival, your colours ought to be displayed.” “What about your own, my lady?” he asked gallantly. “I am a scion of the house of Elwë,” replied Losgael, “but I lost my genealogy long ago.” “It matters not,” said Glorfindel quickly. “People of the noble Sindarin and Telerin families have silvery hair like yours. I believe you. What about silver and blue? Those are the colours of the house of Elwë.” “Then let us do that,” Losgael agreed. She liked the idea of being a princess, though she accepted that, without the ability to claim close kinship with anyone of note, she could not expect to be treated as one. Elrond and Celebrían were kind to her, and her duties as Celebrían's lady-in-waiting were those that a lady of noble birth would be asked to do. She was happy with her lot, but often wondered if her position would be any different if she knew for certain who her ancestors were. “Losgael?” Glorfindel cut in on her thoughts. “Oh, I am sorry, my lord,” she replied. “I wondered what you were thinking,” he told her. “I was wondering if my life would be any different if I knew for certain who my ancestors were,” she said wistfully. “My father was a captain in Turgon's army. He was of the Bar-en-Galadh under Galdor. That is all I know.” “I was told you were young when you lost your mother, and that your father died in Gondolin,” said Glorfindel. “That is true,” Losgael answered. “I was cared for by neighbours at first, and when I grew up, I went to serve the lady Galadriel in Ost-in-Edhil. She and Lord Celeborn were very kind to me, and I love my lady Celebrían as if she was my sister.” “That is good to hear,” said Glorfidel, with a smile. Losgael smiled back. It was a pleasure to work with him, particularly on something that brought so much joy to everyone. She wished she could work so closely with him every day. It was a shame that their time as king and queen of the festival ended that night. Still, she intended to make this night the best one possible. The following night, they would select the next king and queen from the boxes Elrond had used to select them. 'I hope our names do not come out again,' thought Losgael. 'We have the goodwill of the people now, but if it happens again, the festival might be spoiled.' <Hr /> Maerdess worked hard to make things run as smoothly for her friend as she could. Losgael was a kind, gracious queen; and even though her position only lasted for three days, and her realm was only the festival, Maerdess was proud to be her handmaid. 'She looks so sweet with Lord Glorfindel,' she thought. 'I will cling no more to any idea that he might desire me. Anything I can do to move his heart towards her, I will.' The friendship between the two ladies grew strong during those days, and people remarked on how close they were becoming. Maerdess horoughly enjoyed the festival, and lapped up the reflected glory from Losgael. People came to her to ask her opinion about certain aspects of the festival, and she was eager to show herself willing to be helpful and gracious. All too soon, it came to an end, and the next king and queen of the second part of the festival were chosen. <Hr /> Glorfindel sat with Elrond as the lord of Rivendell chose a name from the box. “Arasrŷn,” Elrond said in his deep, clear voice. A round of applause broke out as the popular archer stepped forward. Celebrían stood up and reached into her box. “Mîdhen,” she announced. The people clapped as the baker stepped up to the platform to take her place. 'It is as it should be,' thought Glorfindel. 'The right people have been chosen.' Losgael looked up at him, and smiled. 'Perhaps we were the right people,' thought Glorfindel. 'I enjoyed my time as king of the festival, and she was a good queen.' When the king and queen had been crowned, they called for dancing, and everyone dutifully took their places in the circle. Glorfindel went over to choose a partner, and saw Losgael still seated. “Were you not going to obey your king and queen?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eye. “I had no-one to dance with,” she replied coyly. “It would be most unseemly to have demanded your attention, my lord. Besides, you have danced with me already, and I thought you might prefer to lavish your attentions on another lady.” “Would you rather that I danced with another?” he asked, looking into her eyes. “That is your perogative,” she replied, her gaze cast down. “I want to dance with you,” he told her, and reached for her hands. Why was she so hesitant? Did she think he was trifling with her? Why would she not look at him? “Then I consent to be your partner,” she said, and looked up. Their steps were finely judged, the pattern neat and pretty, but their hearts were not in it. Glorfindel wanted to dance with a lady who did not believe that a wedding was imminent because he had taken her hand to dance at a festival, and Losgael was embarrassed because dancing with the one she loved made her heart flutter like a butterfly trapped in a jar. Glorfindel could not understand why she avoided looking at him when she could. Usually, when the ladies were playing with him, they would do this, but steal a glance at his face to see if he had noticed they were not meeting his eyes. Losgael kept her gaze downwards, her demeanour respectful and distant. She had either perfected the game she was playing, or she was not playing at all, and this was her true self. She seemed embarrassed to have her hand in his, as if it did not belong there. As if she did not deserve it. He liked this. The annoying sense of entitlement that some ladies displayed was absent in Losgael's case. She did not seem to feel that he owed it to her to court her, or declare himself her lover. This opened his heart to the idea of seeing her in a different light, a better light than the one he saw most of the ladies of Rivendell in. The music ended, and the dancers moved to take different partners. Arasrŷn, the king of the festival, went to Losgael, bowed respectfully and said, “My lady, would you do me the honour of being my partner for the next dance?” “I would indeed, thank you, my lord king,” Losgael replied in courtly tones. Glorfindel felt an unexpected stab of jealousy as Arasrŷn took Losgael's hand in his for the dance. Turning, he saw Mîdhen stand in front of him, with an expectant expression on her face. “Ah!” he faltered, “my lady queen, my I have this dance?” “Yes, you may,” Mîdhen replied with a grin, and reached for his hands. Mîdhen was a very good dancer, and Glorfindel found himself comparing her to Losgael. Where Mîdhen floated lightly from step to step, Losgael was unsure and self-conscious. Mîdhen just enjoyed the music and the steps of the dance, while Losgael was preoccupied with thoughts of... whatever was holding her attention. Glorfindel became a little jealous of whatever it was Losgael might be thinking about. This was ridiculous! And possibly an attempt to ensnare him. Well, he would let her play her game if that was what she wanted, but he refused to be caught up in some foolish intrigue. He looked around from time to time, and it annoyed him to see that with Arasrŷn, Losgael danced well, and with no hesitation. She was confident and elegant, did not fawn on him to make Glorfindel jealous, as was the usual game. She did not seem to favour Arasrŷn, this was merely a dance. When the dance ended, another one began, and Losgael danced with Master Goledhel. Again, she seemed at ease with her partner. There was no awkwardness between them. When he turned around, Glorfindel found himself facing Maerdess, who had pursued him for years, apparently in the hope of persuading him to marry her. It would be rude to turn and ask another lady to partner him, so he said, “My lady Maerdess, would you do me the honour of being my partner?” Maerdess smiled and curtsied. “I certainly would.” TBC... </td></tr></table><table width='90%'><tr><td align='center' colspan='2'> </td></tr><tr><td align='center'><a href='chapterview.asp?sid=6411&cid=27662'><< Back</a> </td><td align='center'><a href='chapterview.asp?sid=6411&cid=27792'>Next >></a> </td></tr><tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><a href='review.asp?SID=6411&CID=27791' target='_blank'>Leave Review</a></td></tr><tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><a href='index.asp?'>Home</a><a href='search.asp'>Search</a><a href='chapterlistview.asp?SID=6411'>Chapter List</a> </td></tr></table> </body>

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