“Do me a favor?”

Ecthelion looked down at Erestor, who had come over to the bleachers to see him. In the arena, the jousters were getting their horses ready for their part of the day’s competition. Leaning closer to the railing, Ecthelion gave Erestor a questioning look.

“Keep Fin busy for me.”

Ecthelion nodded. “Why, if I might ask?”

“I need to go do something, and I do not need him trying to seek me out.” Erestor looked to the field. “Who qualified for the boxing matches?”

“I came too late,” admitted Ecthelion. “I do know that Egalmoth is in. I am sure Rog is in as well. Archery, the only one I knew was Duilin. There are a lot of new faces for the tournament this year. What do you want me to tell Glorfindel if he asks where you are?”

“Just tell him I am busy and will be by for the finals.” Erestor wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants and walked away.

Not more than a few minutes later, Glorfindel came into the area for the audience and headed up the stairs, pardoning himself until he reached Ecthelion. “Have you seen Erestor?”

“Hmm? Oh, he said he would be by for the finals.” Ecthelion kept a keen eye on the preliminary joust, cursing when his house’s rider fell from his mount. “Damn, I wish he was still riding for me.”

“Sorry.” Glorfindel knew better than to bring up the sore subject of Erestor not being linked to Ecthelion’s house, consequently not being able to compete for the house in these yearly midsummer tournaments. “I heard that Salgant did not do as well as expected last night.”

“He is a better minstrel than I,” admitted Ecthelion. “The first competition only weeds out the exceptionally poor. It is the finals I worry about – I have a feeling my house will not take the cup this year.”

“Maeglin seemed to do well for you in the fencing trials. He may surprise everyone and take the ribbon on that,” suggested Glorfindel.

Ecthelion shook his head. “Perhaps. But look at the state of my jousters! I am surprised either of them knows which end the back end of the horse is!”

Glorfindel decided to stay silent for the rest of the qualifying races and matches, only smiling sadly each time his friend’s house did worse and worse. The only redeeming item was that at least Ecthelion had competitors from his house or Maeglin’s in each event – the Golden Flower’s chances of winning the cup were very slim, as they only qualified in three events.

As Glorfindel tried to cheer up Ecthelion with this idea while they ate lunch of chunks of potato fried in oil and breaded fried fish, a hand reached over and stole a potato from the paper cone Glorfindel’s lunch was in. “You never know. If your competitors win all three of their events, and no one else can do better than two, you could still take the cup.”

“Erestor, possible as it may be, the probability of-“ Glorfindel stopped abruptly as he turned his head, and his grin drooped immediately. “What... what did you do?”

“Do not worry, I eat very little and when the line gets shorter I will get another and let you have some,” promised the dark elf as he pushed on Glorfindel’s arm. “Scoot over so I can sit down.”

“I meant-“ Glorfindel was pulled over a little by Ecthelion, who had moved to make more room. Erestor sat down, snagging another piece of potato from Glorfindel’s lunch. “I meant, what did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, I had it trimmed,” answered Erestor, wiping the grease from his fingers off on the side of the paper cone Glorfindel was still holding.

Ecthelion peered around Glorfindel’s back and now, his eyes widened, too. “If that is a trim, remind me not to seek out your barber!”

Glorfindel’s frown deepened as he looked Erestor over. “You are the last one I would expect to chop their hair off.”

“I had to. Rog would not let me join the army otherwise,” stated Erestor as if this was just common knowledge.

“You what? You joined his army? Erestor... why?” Glorfindel ignored the fact that his house’s representative in the boxing matches was being introduced in the third of the three rings of competition of the arena.

“Because a lot of what he said the other day made sense to me. I keep spiraling downward, and one of these days, I will not be able to pick myself back up again. I do not want that. I made enough mistakes in Doriath. I am not about to repeat all of those here.” Erestor ran his hands through his cropped black hair, shorter now than Ecthelion’s shoulder-length curls. “Just so weird. My head feels so light. And, I am sure it looks hideous.”

“Trust me, you will appreciate it from the very start of the training,” ensured Ecthelion. “Plus, the best thing in a battle is short hair – I keep telling the kid here that, but he will not listen to me,” added the fountain lord, elbowing Glorfindel.

Glorfindel rubbed his arm side and shot Ecthelion a disbelieving look. “Battles go so fast, no one has time to think of whether or not they will yank someone down from their mount by their hair. Besides, helmets keep it from being an issue.”

“I do not think I have a helmet for the initial training,” guessed Erestor. “Which begins in three days. Which brings me to something else.” He took a stall key from his pocket and held it out. “Which of you lucky lords wants the privilege of looking after my horses while I am off playing war?”

Snorting, Ecthelion took hold of the key first. “I will assign someone to it. I still feel terrible that you are off of the council.”

“Not your fault. Like I told Salgant, I will be back.” Erestor turned his head to the field as cheering erupted from a group across the field. “Pity that. Your house was just eliminated from boxing,” he told Glorfindel as one of the members of Rog’s house pumped his fist in the air victoriously.

- - -

The next chance Glorfindel had to converse with Erestor was almost three months later. He just happened to decide to stroll around the long way back to the palace instead of taking the way that would lead him past the barracks shared by Ecthelion and Maeglin for their soldiers when the blond spied his tall friend hurrying toward one of the side doors to the palace with a basket heaped with clothing. Glorfindel hastened his step to reach Erestor before the door closed. “Long time, no see,” he began, and Erestor seemed to be startled at first, but then nodded his head in the direction of a flight of stairs leading to one of the cellars.

“I am going this way, if you care to follow.” Erestor disappeared down the dimly lit stairway, and Glorfindel followed. “I only have a little time.”

“What are you doing?” asked Glorfindel as Erestor placed the basket down on a clean table and opened the shutters of the windows in the underground room.

“Some officer’s laundry.” He dumped the contents of the basket onto the table and began to sort the items into piles. “One of the benefits of being a trainee with no rank – you are presented with so many opportunities to perform menial labor.”

“Do you want me to help?” offered Glorfindel, but Erestor held up his hand.

“Stay right there, please,” instructed the dark elf. “The last thing I need is to be accused of having someone else do the work for me. Besides, you are a captain – I really should have saluted you when you came upon me in the corridor.”

“Your hands were full so I think we can let it slide.” Glorfindel dusted off a chair and sat down. “Why are you hiding down here? I would think it would be easier to fold it as it came off of the line.”

Erestor paused for a moment and leaned back against a support beam. “One would think that. Unfortunately, it means that one is open for attack – that is, another officer might happen over with his laundry, and just as you have finished one load, you are again starting another. This way, I have at least a few minutes of peace. And do I need it,” he moaned, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Every inch of me aches, even in places I did not know could hurt.”

Giving his friend a sympathetic look, Glorfindel said, “You are at least halfway done, right? Five months of training.”

“Well...” Erestor opened his eyes and stepped to the table again, picking up a pair of pants and folding it. “I met this girl-“

“Oh, no,” chuckled Glorfindel. “A girl who happens to like an elf in uniform, no doubt?”

“How did you guess?” grinned Erestor. “Actually, did you know that Rog has a daughter?”

Glorfindel’s eyebrows shot up. “You plan to court Rog’s daughter? Are you insane?”

“Probably – I joined the army,” Erestor reminded him. “I met her, briefly, at a party a few weeks ago.”

“It cannot be all bad if you still have time for parties,” said Glorfindel.

Leaning forward with his arms crossed on the basket, Erestor rolled his eyes. “Some time ago, Rog ‘invited’ us to a party. We were told that the guests would arrive at sundown. He said we had to be there, not an option to skip it. Something seemed odd, so, being me, I went to investigate a few hours ahead of time.”

“I snuck my way into the bustling kitchens of his house, and spoke to one of the maids. Sure enough, the plan was that the trainees would arrive in fancy attire, but then be shuffled to the kitchens to help with the serving of the food and the cleaning of the dishes and other such things. Not about to be a total fool, I simply let myself back out, came around the side way, and knocked on the door. When the butler answered, I explained myself, and he led me in to the dining hall where I ended up assisting another who had figured things out as well in setting the long tables. We finished just as the first guests, and unfortunate trainees, began to arrive. Rog came in about then, saw the two of us and smirked and dismissed us. I think some of the other trainees are a little upset with us, but what was I to do? If I had gone around telling the others, it would have taken too much time. And I doubt any of them would have been looking out for me.”

“How did you meet his daughter?” asked Glorfindel.

“Oh! Right, she was the hostess – his wife apparently hates parties. She came into the dining hall to see that things were coming along before the party began. We chatted for a few moments. I have seen her a few times since then and we had a conversation regarding... something or other, I forget.” Erestor placed the shirt he had just folded into the basket and lifted up another. “I spent most of the time paying attention to her breasts.”

Blinking, Glorfindel frowned. “I see.”

“I know, does nothing for you, but trust me. An elleth with an endowment like those...” Erestor cupped his hands, spaced out as if he was holding those of some imaginary female before him. “Just trust me.”

“I suppose I shall have to.” Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably.

“She has a great ass, too,” added Erestor. “Firm, and, damn, I just want to sink my teeth into it. I just want to, you know, bite it.”

Glorfindel burst out laughing. “That I can at least understand a bit.”

Erestor grinned. “Sorry, I will stop. This is the first conversation I have had in weeks that did not consist of ‘yes sir, no sir, how far sir, thank you sir’. Forgive me.”

“How are things going?” Glorfindel tried not to sound too concerned, but he could not help it.

With a shrug, Erestor said, “Fairly well. The first week was the worst. Up before dawn, and we had to run the entire way around all six gates, one way, and then the other. I am not much of a runner, at least, not until now. Then I got used to that. But there was also the total lack of freedom.”

Smoothing all of the wrinkles from a tunic, Erestor paused in his work. “We all wake, dress, and eat, all at the same time. No one talks, no one has any choice over any of it. Then we run, then we train, then we eat again sometimes as we are running, then we have ‘free time’, like right now, only there is no freedom. If an officer sees us and has something for us to do, we do it. No matter what. First time it happened to me, I just went along and did it. I ended up mucking out the stalls of one of the captains that first day. I found out later that night that the ones who refused ended up spending the time doing extremely rigorous exercise – for example, one of them was dragged to a wagon and hitched to it, made to haul a load meant for two horses.”

“How do I miss all of these things happening?” wondered Glorfindel.

“Then we train until dusk. We eat, we shower – which is all of us, five minutes, in a pond by the barracks. And then, you would think we would have some time to rest – no. By candlelight, we have tactical studies, and weapons studies, and things I will never use again except to pass the weekly examinations.” Erestor tilted his head thoughtfully. “At least with that I am excelling.”

“Then do you get to sleep?” questioned Glorfindel.

“Then we drop from exhaustion until it begins again. At least I am used to it now. I have to tell you, as ugly as it looks, I am so glad I hacked my hair off before I started this,” said Erestor ruefully. “It stays fairly clean, I do not sweat like the ones who kept their hair a little longer, and best of all, it is too short for anyone to grab hold of it.”

“Do they really do that?” Glorfindel worried.

Grimacing, Erestor replied, “One of the younger recruits, from Rog’s house, he refused to cut his any shorter than halfway down his back. He kept it braided up, so for a few days I was silently cursing what I had done. Then, one morning he must have forgotten or run out of time. Anyhow, we were out fighting with blunt knives, just going through routines. Rog came over – usually, he leaves all of the training to his lieutenants and captains. He picked up a pair of knives and challenged this boy.” Realizing the time, Erestor went back to his task. “The two of them seemed well-matched. Then Rog threw one knife to the ground, got around him, and took hold of his loose hair. When it was all over, the youth was on the ground screaming, and Rog was holding a fist full of bloodied hair that I think he must have yanked off of his head. Before Rog let the healers over, he pinned the boy down and cut the rest off while lecturing the rest of us as to why it was one of the requirements he had for his soldiers. If you think this is short,” he said, pointing to his own head, “you should see him.”

“Ow.” Glorfindel instinctively rubbed the back of his scalp. “I still think it is rare one would ever encounter that sort of thing in battle.”

As Erestor stacked the rest of the items in the basket, he sighed. “I had best get this to its owner. It was good to see you.”

“You, too.” Glorfindel made it to the stairs before Erestor, blocking his path. “Erestor, I know you are trying to... prove something, or... well, honestly, I am still trying to figure out what you are doing. But, has it been worth it? At all? I hate to think you are only still doing this because you think that Rog has a pretty daughter.”

Erestor rested the basket against one hip. “There is something that Rog attends to personally, and that is to give us ‘individual pep talks’, as I like to call them. He knows why each and every one of us is there, and he reminds us daily. Usually during the training in the evening you will have a chance to spar with him at some point. The whole time, he insults you.”

“What does he say to you?” asked Glorfindel cautiously.

“The first day, he made me so angry,” recalled Erestor. “He called me a number of uncomplimentary things, and pointed out my shortcomings. We were engaged in hand-to-hand combat, and one of the things he said was ‘if you like to hit house lords so much, why are you having such trouble hitting me?’ At that point I stopped using all of the theory and practice I had and just tried to hit him. I landed flat on my back with the wind knocked out of me. He put his foot on my chest and leaned down, squeezing the air out of my lungs, and he said, ‘When we are done, you will be a soldier, but you will also cease to be such a rude, disrespectful ass. Do you understand me?’”

Glorfindel fidgeted, wishing not for the first time in their conversation that Erestor had not decided upon this path. “How did you answer?”

“The only way I could. ‘Sir, yes, sir!’ Do you know how much I am coming to hate that phrase?”

“I can only imagine.” Glorfindel hung his head. “I am sorry I failed you as a teacher.”

“Glorfindel, you did not. You did everything you could – but how were you to rid me of the anger within? Rog said it himself. You and I are good friends. There is no way you would be able to say the things he says. The truthful things he says.”

Shocked, Glorfindel asked, “You agree with him?”

“Every word. You probably still think that I never deserved to be whipped – but, you are wrong. I deserved that, and more,” said Erestor.

Glorfindel shook his head. “No. No one deserved that – for what you did? For hitting Salgant twice, and for lying to Turgon that one time?”

Erestor turned away. “Fin, those were only the things you saw happen. I did a lot of other things over the years, some worse than that.”

“Like... what?”

“Glorfindel, I need to get this back,” Erestor insisted, but the blond did not budge. Sighing, Erestor said, “A lot of things. Things I am starting to regrest.”

“What? What did you do?” Glorfindel placed a hand on Erestor’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Erestor, tell me. Do not force me to order you.”

Flinching, Erestor cleared his throat. “Well, captain,” he said curtly in a cold voice that Glorfindel decided immediately that he hated, “there was a day when Salgant was gouging himself on pastries and wine, joking that there may be none left when others arrived. I wandered myself to a healing room, picked up a few things, and added something to his wine. From what I heard, he could not stop defecating for days- and it began while he was sitting atop his horse the next day.”

“That was you?!” Glorfindel gasped. “Sweet Eru, we all thought he was dying the way he was wailing about his arse being on fire.”

For a brief moment, Erestor smirked. “I never heard that part recounted.”

“Remind me not to cross you,” mumbled Glorfindel, coming to the conclusion he did not wish to hear any more. He stood aside to allow Erestor to pass.

“With any luck,” said Erestor as he headed up the stairs, “Rog will be sure to beat that out of me before the end of the training.”

Shuddering at the thought, Glorfindel said, “I am going to be so glad when this is all over.”

Looking over his shoulder, Erestor agreed. “So will I.”