Characters: Glorfindel, a little bit of Elrond.
Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien and I make nothing from this but my own entertainment.
Notes: Late, oops! I do want to get back into the drabble habit...
The Wounds of Dangerous Ages
The stone was still scarred, scratches pale against the grey where gems had been prised from their settings and disappeared into some looter’s pocket long ago. Master Elrond had apologised and Glorfindel had shrugged and said no one could come unchanged from Valinor to Imladris by way of Gondolin’s ruins. Why should a doorstop be any different? Let it bear the wounds of dangerous ages.
All the same, he remembered it pristine, his father etching the golden flowers now touched up with mithril by Elrond’s jewelsmith. And finding, once, those stolen jewels glittering white and red on Alqualondë’s gem-strewn beaches.