((OOC: Fyre here - taking Glorfindel on and this is on the night of... well... everything: Legolas/Haldir cheating on each other and shagging silly, Boromir's (eternal) confusion, Galadriel's pissyness. Hope you like the way I play the boy ;) And Collie, m'dear, you wanted a scene with me (although God knows why), you got one!))
Roused from his sleep by a feeling of... uncertain fear and anger, Glorfindel once more wondered if he had chosen wisely to remain in Gondor. Rising from his bed, the chill of the night casting a light wash across his skin, he captured a fallen shirt from the back of his chair, drawing it on over his bare skin, his hair cascading in a golden flood down his back.
Moving to the open window, his arms folding upon his chest, Glorfindel closed his eyes, bowing his head, and allowed his senses to reach beyond the confines of his chambers to seek out the source of the feelings that troubled him.
His eyes opened sharply, recognising the displeasure of the Lady of the Galadhrim. What, he wondered, could have driven her to ire? Letting his senses flow further, traces of anger and fear ebbed around him, all edged with the emotion of the Galadhrim. Glorfindel's brow furrowed. How very unusual.
Outside of his chambers, something clattered and he whipped around, immediatelly checking himself with a chastising laugh. "You are too wary," he chastised himself. "To oft you jump at the tread of a child, fearing the steps of a troll."
Making his way towards the door, he felt a smile lifting his lips, recognising the voices beyond. Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond. Who else would deign to crash around the halls of the keep, while others desired to find slumber? Perhaps, he mused, they required some lesson in respect.
He drew the door open, slipping out and girding himself in the shadows, soundless as he made his way in the direction of the twins' voices.