“I heard you caused another of my staff to be sent home in tears last night.”

Glorfindel cringed slightly as he closed the door to the office and sat down for his ‘appointment’. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, looking out the window instead of at Elrond.

The lord of the valley sighed and shuffled the papers off of his desk. In barely a week, Glorfindel had managed to alienate a good portion of the kitchen staff, many of the gardeners, and a few of the horse masters as well. At the rate things were going, Elrond feared he would need to hire an entirely new staff by week’s end. “Obviously, something is still the matter. And I have come to reason that it is most likely not trepidation regarding the possible entrance of a Balrog into the city.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Glorfindel snorted. “Well, maybe it is. There ARE other Balrogs out there -- hiding in the caves and in the mists. You have inadequate protection to fend them off.”

“If one comes, I have no intention of fending them off,” explained Elrond. “I plan to do what any sane elf would. I will be running away – and I expect you to do the same.”

Glorfindel twitched, clamping his jaw shut. Elrond waited for the retort, for this conversation had been replayed three previous times. The first time the debate began, Elrond realized it was Glorfindel’s way of working out his past; coming to grips with the reality that his slaying of the final balrog to infiltrate Gondolin did not save the city, only the people, and that the people were infinitely more important than stones and mortar were. “Fine. Run away then,” he grumbled, twisting at the immovable carved eagle head that adorned the chair he sat upon.

“Twelve-hundred scattered in the forest and beneath the waterfalls stand a better chance than the same packed into one tidy little house,” finished Elrond, for he loved to get the last word in, and for once, Glorfindel did not fight him. “Now, no more about Balrogs. I want to discuss you.”

“Are not the two synonymous?” asked Glorfindel wryly.

“Nay.” Elrond poured tea for them from the pot that was sitting on a tray set up beside his desk. “Sugar? Honey?”

Glorfindel shook his head at both of these, and Elrond suspected his refusal was just to be a pain in the posterior. The ellon never drank more than a few sips, and scowled here and there. Then again, he may have not liked tea altogether, but Glorfindel was a difficult elf to deal with and Elrond suspected the blond merely refused the sweeteners just to annoy him.

“What are your plans for the day?” asked Elrond once he had handed the cup and saucer to the other ellon.

“I think I might take a closer look at your training fields. I noticed that they are rather small; you might want to consider an extension,” suggested Glorfindel.

“We have a very small army,” Elrond reminded him. “With only a hundred or so archers and a handful of cavalry, we do not have the need for a large training area. It saves space for planting crops and for gardens to relax in.”

With a snort, Glorfindel replied, “How you can relax with such a small number of soldiers is beyond me.”

“I get by,” answered Elrond, stirring the sugar into his tea. “But please, feel free to look at the training area and make suggestions as to improvements on the current design if you like.”

When Glorfindel did not respond, Elrond pressed him again. “What else do you plan to do?” These daily meetings were a way for Elrond to observe Glorfindel. He could tell that something was still amiss about the warrior, whose arrival from the Grey Havens days earlier had been quite unexpected. All Elrond could assume was that he had been as big an ass in the Halls of Waiting as he was here now, and that the Valar just wanted to be rid of him any way possible.

“I might take a ride to the river,” he said, after pulling a face from the bitter drink.

“Excellent idea. The water is just perfect for swimming this time of year, and downstream the fishing is very good,” said Elrond. “Shall I have one of the kitchen staff ready a lunch for you to take along? I often enjoy a summer’s day at the river myself.”

Glorfindel was looking at Elrond as if he had grown an extra head. “No, I do not plan to go to the river for frivolous reasons such as the ones you have suggested. I want to see what sort of fortifications you have there to guard against attacks.”

“I will save you the trip,” Elrond responded bluntly. “We have none.”

“What? Why not?” demanded Glorfindel.

“Because it would give us away. We are few, and cannot watch multiple posts here and there, so we guard mostly from the city.”

“Then you are more a fool than I first thought,” Glorfindel blurted out, slamming his cup and saucer onto the desk. “No one guards their city without outposts!”

“Well, I do,” argued Elrond, fighting to keep his calm the angrier Glorfindel got. “If it annoys you so much, you are more than welcome to found your own city elsewhere.”

Staring at the wall until he regained his composure, Glorfindel said, “That is not my desire. You have a perfect haven here; it reminds me much of the city I once lived in and loved. I just do not wish to see my home fall again.”

“It will not,” Elrond said with conviction.

Strained laughter issued forth from the warrior. “How can you be so sure of that?”

“Perhaps some day I will tell you my secret to that knowledge,” Elrond told him. “But now, our time grows short, and yet you have revealed to me what truly upsets you.”

Glorfindel drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I am upset, truly, by the lack of defense.”

“There is something, though.” Elrond poured himself more tea to warm his cup and waited. “What can I do to ease your transition here? I told you that I will provide whatever you need, but I must know what it is. There is something you hesitate to ask me about.”

Running his finger along the finely detailed grooves of the eagle head, Glorfindel muttered, “I do not believe it in your power to give.”

“If you do not tell me what you want, I shall never know,” countered Elrond.

Sighing in defeat, Glorfindel said, “In my first life, my greatest love was my city. This time around, I want it to be something a bit more... tangible.”

“Ah... I see.” Elrond nodded. “If that is the case, you should perhaps be a little nicer to the rest of the residents. We have a small population here, and news travels quickly.”

“I know. I just thought – hoped, I suppose – that it might be more like things used to be,” explained Glorfindel.

“Arranged marriages are a thing of the past, if that is what you are referring to,” said Elrond as gently as he could. “I can introduce you to some possible matches if you like but I cannot force anyone in this valley, not even my own children, to marry someone they do not choose.”

“Mmm. I suspected as much.” Glorfindel rubbed his fingers over the eagle’s beak.

“Besides, I had assumed you would be waiting for your lover to return,” said Elrond.

“My what?” Abruptly, Glorfindel’s hand stopped nervously playing with the wooden adornment. “What? Who?”

Elrond looked taken aback. “The other Balrog Slayer, of course.”

“What?” Glorfindel blinked. “Thelion? He and I were never lovers – more like good friends, brothers perhaps. Where did you hear such lies?” he angrily demanded.

“I read it, in practically every history of Gondolin,” Elrond cautiously admitted. Glorfindel was standing in a flash. “Calm yourself; I do not need you burning every volume in the library with a chapter on Beleriand.”

Glorfindel clenched his fists. “I will not, but I want to see these books. In the library, you say?”

“Yes; one of the scribes can point them out to you,” Elrond called after the warrior, who was already leaving, striding purposefully down the hallway. With a frown, Elrond stood and went to a door to an adjoining office, and tapped on it. When beckoned to enter, Elrond turned the knob. “Lindir, I need someone to track Glorfindel. Make sure he doesn’t go near any candles or the fireplace in the library with anything.”

Chuckling to himself, Elrond’s second-in-command nodded. “I have a need to return a few books anyhow,” he said, picking up a stack from the corner of his desk before heading out to follow after Glorfindel.

Picking up another heavy volume, Glorfindel turned to the back and skimmed the index. “There I am,” he mumbled to himself.

Turning back to the actual text, his mood darkened as he searched through the passages for his name. “Only one? I killed two and a dragon before that last one... scholars my ass... who in the name of Eru wrote this piece of crap?” And so the mutterings continued, with each historical inaccuracy grumbled about by the reborn warrior. “Most beloved, save only for Ecthelion? Where do they come off saying such a thing?”

“Apparently, they never knew you,” spoke a voice a little further down the reference aisle that Glorfindel was using for his research area. He had spread many books across the top of the low shelf and added another as he shot a glare down at the unfamiliar ellon.

“They did not know Ecthelion, either,” retorted Glorfindel. “Beloved is hardly the word I would have used to describe him. For any reason,” he added when he was given a cheeky look from the other elf. “Did I meet you?”

“Yes. You told me you hated my singing. Luckily, you are not the first, and I do have a rather good group of adoring fans, so it is not something I dwelled upon.” Holding his hand out, the ellon said, “Lindir, chief of Lord Elrond’s staff. I see you have decided to do a bit of light reading today.”

Glorfindel shook Lindir’s hand. “Your singing is not so bad; likely I was drunk when I made the comment. And what I am doing it trying to decide whether to tear out the misinformation, or burn the entire collection of First Age history,” corrected the blond.

“Oh, dear, do not do that. We would have nothing exciting to read. Have you looked at the Second Age volumes?” questioned Lindir. Glorfindel shook his head. “Utter nonsense and completely boring. There were a few little wars here and there, but nothing that can compete with the excitement of the First Age.”

“Then it should be removed from reference and placed in fiction,” suggested Glorfindel.

Before Lindir could give his opinion on the idea, a flash of movement caught his eye. Looking past Glorfindel down one of the long, tall aisles of books, he took note of someone climbing up the shelf, no doubt attempting to get something they could not reach without the assistance of one of the librarians. “Elladan! Get down from there right now!” shouted Lindir. Several others in the library turned upon hearing him, including Elladan.

Unfortunately, the young elf lost his footing, and in finding it again, clumsily shifted his weight enough to pull the entire shelf toward him. Instead of trying to get away, he scampered up and over the shelf, thereby helping the shelf to tip and topple over.

The force of the shelf falling and the distance to the next one created a domino effect – the first crashed into the second, and the second clipped the third. Glorfindel expected everyone to rush out of the way as they were doing, and stayed back so as not to get in the way of the panic, until he took note of the elf who was apparently blissfully ignorant of what was happening.

Between aisles four and five was a thin, fragile-looking elf. In fact, Glorfindel had thought it was an elleth until he came closer. Obviously too deep in thought, the ellon could not hear the crashing of each consecutive shelf. Glorfindel sped forward, shoving the ellon to the ground and bracing himself against the impact as he spread his arms out and made ready to act as an anchor. He changed his mind after a quick look behind him, and realizing that there were at least a dozen more rows of shelves. Crouching down beside the wide-eyed elf, he rose back up with a roar and slammed his weight into the shelf just as it began to tumble forward.

Ramming the shelf by himself was no easy task, so he was grateful when he noted Lindir at the other end of the stack, shoving into it with his shoulder. “On three!” called out the blond, and the steward nodded. A few seconds later, both elves propelled themselves into the shelf, and it went crashing back the other way, sending the shelves back how they had come. The first one crashed into the wall at the far end, and Glorfindel sighed in relief.

He made to take a step away, but found he could not move his legs. Looking down, he saw one very terrified elf with his arms wrapped around Glorfindel’s legs. The ellon was shaking and sobbing softly, so Glorfindel lowered himself with minor difficulty to the floor. “Do not fear. All is well. Are you hurt?”

Glorfindel was answered by having the ellon launch himself into his arms, clinging to the blond’s neck tightly. He buried his face against Glorfindel’s shoulder.

“Poor thing,” said Lindir as he approached. “I would have expected him to have had at least the sense to move.”

There was no time to ask further questions as Elrond came into the room, eyes full of fury. “Where. Is. My. Son.”

A half-dozen elves pointed in the direction of the fireplace, from behind which a forty-something elfling peeked. “You called for me, Ada?”

“What do you think you were doing?” boomed the angered peredhel. Again, Elladan cowered. “Come here – now!”

Elladan cautiously came forward, head bowed. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, Elrond reached out and yanked him closer by the ear. “Do you see the damage you have caused? Do you know how much time it will take to clean this up, not to mention the fact that there are no doubt books that have been destroyed because of you?” Elrond let go of his son’s ear, and to Glorfindel’s surprise, spanked the youth in plain view. Not very hard, nor very long, but enough to embarrass the lad and in some way, placate the angry elves who were now sorting through the mess. “Up to your room, and stay there until I come to get you.”

Elrond watched as Elladan sniffled and then ran from the room. Behind the elf lord, an identical-looking elfling looked on with a very serious expression before turning and calmly leaving the library on his own accord. The lord of the valley shook his head and then walked to Glorfindel. “There are days when I wonder if I should not have pulled Elrohir from his mother’s womb first,” he said, more to Lindir than anyone else.

“We have a little problem,” said Lindir, motioning to the shivering elf in Glorfindel’s arms. “Erestor was nearly crushed and now he appears to be petrified.”

“Great. Just what I needed.” Elrond rubbed his forehead, then reached down and made an attempt to pull the cowering ellon away from Glorfindel. “Erestor, get up now! Erestor, I said, get up!”

“Elrond, he is scared half to death,” said Glorfindel, wrapping his arms around the elf. “Give him a few moments.”

Rolling his eyes, Lindir gave Elrond a sideways glance. “Do you wish to explain or shall I?”

“Explain what?” asked Glorfindel.

“Glorfindel, he is only doing that to get attention,” said Elrond. “He only has the mental capacity of a small child – maybe twenty years, if that.”

Rocking the ellon to try to calm him, Glorfindel said, “I am not sure I quite follow.”

“He was born an idiot,” Lindir said simply. “His parents brought him here when he was about four. He does not talk, he cannot read or write, he only makes very crude sounds and sometimes becomes quite angry. We kept him here out of pity.”

“How can that be? I saw him arranging the books just now,” argued Glorfindel.

“According to the master librarian, he somehow can put the books back where they belong. He believes that Erestor has memorized, somehow, where each book goes without having to read the call numbers, for he cannot read. It keeps him out of trouble, at least,” said Lindir.

“Alright, enough of that,” decided Elrond. He took hold of Erestor’s arm and again attempted to pry him from Glorfindel. “I said, get up!” shouted the elf lord.

Erestor made a noise akin to ‘guh’ and only tightened his grip on Glorfindel. “Perhaps I should take him back to his rooms,” suggested Glorfindel. “Maybe he would be comfortable there.”

“He is in his rooms,” said Elrond matter-of-factly. He motioned toward a stack of bedding that was tucked beside a chair near the fireplace. “He sleeps here.”

The look on Glorfindel’s face was of complete horror. “He sleeps here? On the floor, beside the fire, like a hound? And you tell me that arranged marriage is unacceptable, when you make someone sleep like an animal!”

Sighing deeply, Elrond said, “He would not know what to do in real rooms. With no one to watch him, this is the best solution. We have a very limited number of residents, as I told you before. There is no one to sit around and keep an eye on him.”

“Then I will watch him.” Glorfindel stood up, now cradling the ellon to his chest. “I have nothing else to do, and as you are so fond of keeping mischief makers from making mischief, this will be ideal, will it not?”

Little thought was given to the idea. “It is completely unacceptable. It would be akin to keeping him as your servant, and I forbid it.”

Grinding his teeth together, Glorfindel pondered until he thought of a solution. “What if he were my equal? What then?”

“You cannot be seriously suggesting what I think you are-“ began Elrond, but Lindir cut him off.

“Just a moment, Glorfindel. Elrond and I must have a word in private.” Lindir ushered Elrond away to speak with him privately. “If he wants Erestor, let him have him. How long has it been that you have wished someone could rid you of him?”

“I would not be rid of him, he would still be here,” reminded Elrond.

Lindir nodded. “But you would not be responsible for him any longer. Let Glorfindel deal with him. He seems to like challenges; maybe it is a good match for both of them. Erestor will have someone to take care of him, and Glorfindel will have... well, someone who might be able to stand him for more than five minutes time,” admitted Lindir.

In agreement, the pair walked back. “Are you serious about what you are asking?” questioned Elrond.

“If that is the only way that you will allow me to take care of him, then yes. I am serious,” said Glorfindel.

“Go to my office and wait for me,” instructed Elrond. He motioned that Lindir should join Glorfindel and Erestor as well. Once the three had left, Elrond looked around the destruction, shaking his head. It was as he was leaving that he spied a stack of books, safely out of the way of the mess. He smiled wryly to himself, realizing that Glorfindel had inadvertently managed to save every single one of the books he would have liked to have seen destroyed.

“Is he always this clingy?” asked Glorfindel as he and Lindir waited for Elrond to return to his office.

Lindir, who was perusing Elrond’s private collection of books, shook his head. “Actually, he hardly wants anyone to touch him. A few times I tried to touch his shoulder to get his attention or something like that, and he would always lash out and slap me. I am surprised he is still allowing you to hold him.”

“He will not let go,” answered Glorfindel, laughing a little at his situation. “I could not pry him from me if I wanted to.”

“Though it would seem you would rather not let him go,” mused Lindir.

Glorfindel did not have to answer this question, for Elrond entered the room at that moment. “Well. According to one of my sons, I am a terrible father, a ‘meany’, and he currently hates me.”

“And this is new how?” asked Lindir from across the room.

Elrond wearily sat down behind his desk, then apologized to Glorfindel. “My eldest sometimes gets it into his head that he can do whatever he likes just because he is the heir to the realm. In reality, it is Elrohir who has the greater amount of common sense and would make a better leader, but Elladan is the older of the two.”

“Ah.” Glorfindel noticed that the elf he held had stopped trembling, and he tilted up the shaken ellon’s chin. “Are you alright?” he asked calmly.

“He will not answer,” sighed Elrond. From his desk, he retrieved a worn leather sack, untying the strings at the top. Onto the desk, he spilled out a hundred or so different wooden tiles, each with a different image painted upon it. “Try this.” Elrond fished through them and found a few that had pictures of an elf’s face making different expressions. One looked happy, another sad, yet another angry. He snapped his fingers a few times, but when Erestor did not respond, Elrond motioned that Glorfindel should bring him closer.

Standing up, Glorfindel helped Erestor back onto his feet. Although the slighter ellon now stood on his own, he still had one arm firmly around Glorfindel. “Clever,” remarked Glorfindel as he looked around at the different tiles.

Elrond pointed at the small grouping as he looked up at Erestor. Tentatively, the little elf slid the picture of a worried elf out of the bunch, as well as a sleepy looking one. Elrond nodded and collected the rest of the emotion tiles while Erestor reached forward and searched through the others. He pulled out a picture of a fireplace with a blanket in front of it.

Frowning, Glorfindel shook his head. He picked up the tile and tossed it into the garbage, to Elrond’s amusement and Erestor’s fright. “No more of that,” he said as he picked up Elrond’s quill and sketched on the corner of a sheet a rather crude drawing of a bed. It confused Erestor for a moment, but as soon as he realized what it was, he threw both arms around Glorfindel once again, snuggling himself against the tall blond warrior.

Elrond and Lindir exchanged looks. “Glorfindel, if you are truly serious about wishing to take care of him, no one will stand in your way. However, I do not believe you know how daunting a task this will be at times.”

“As we already confirmed, it will be a challenge,” said Glorfindel. “But I am willing to accept such a challenge. Perhaps this is why I was sent back. I may lack the proper social skills to get along with everyone here, but I do have a vast amount of patience.”

“Good.” Elrond gathered up the tiles and placed them back into the bag. “You may need these,” he said, handing the bag to Glorfindel. “Two other things I will mention to you. First, if you can hold his attention for long enough, he responds sometimes. Erestor.” Elrond snapped his fingers a few times in front of Erestor’s face, and the slender elf looked directly at him. “You are going with him,” said Elrond, drawing out each word very clearly. Erestor stayed focused on Elrond the whole time, and nodded at the end of the sentence. “He will take care of you.” Again, Erestor nodded, and tightened his grip on Glorfindel.

“What is the second thing?” asked Glorfindel, holding the sack in one hand, his other arm protectively around Erestor.

Elrond wadded up the sheet of paper Glorfindel had drawn on and tossed it into the garbage. “He is slow, but he is not a child. Treat him with patience, but remember that he is not in his youth. He understands things you might not think he does. In the reverse, there are many things he is ignorant of, and thus you must be patient. If he misbehaves or gets angry, however, simply give him time by himself. We do not strike him back when he hits us; he does not understand what he is doing is wrong.”

“I see.” Glorfindel nodded. “I think I can handle things from this point. Thank you for the advice.” Gently, Glorfindel led the ellon out of the office, leaving Lindir and Elrond alone.

“Am I making a mistake?” asked Elrond after the door was shut.

Settling down in one of the chairs with a book, Lindir said without looking up, “You asked me that when he first came here, when his parents abandoned him and went to the west. Galadriel wanted him to come to Lothlorien, but you decided the dangers there were too great, that he might fall from a tree or something. If you are making a mistake, it is not one that cannot be corrected.”

“But do you think it is a mistake?” Elrond reached over the desk, pushing the book out of the way until the steward looked at him. “Lin, am I making a bad decision?”

Contemplating for a minute, Lindir shook his head. “What were we able to do for him? Practically nothing. Plus, you must admit, it looked bad when you motioned that he just sleeps on the floor.”

“Because he would not sleep on a bed!” argued Elrond.

“I know,” said Lindir, but Elrond continued.

“I hope Glorfindel ends up dealing with the same thing we did – a disagreeable, biting, angry little thing who only calmed down when we took him to the library!”

With a chuckle, Lindir said, “No, you do not.”

Elrond huffed. “Alright, yes, I hope things work out. But still, it would serve Glorfindel well if he has to contend with some of the things we had to.”

Glorfindel locked the door once they had entered, and immediately Erestor leapt away from him. “Skittish thing, aren’t you?” questioned Glorfindel as the slighter ellon escaped across the room, placing his back to the wall.

Ignoring the odd change in behavior, Glorfindel made room on the dining table for the tiles, spilling them out on the surface. “There, now you can talk when you want to, not just when Elrond lets you.” Looking over to the frightened elf, Glorfindel beckoned him forward. “Come over here. I have your pictures for you.”

Erestor slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees, and stared at the door.

Following where Erestor was looking to, Glorfindel shook his head. “You must stay here. If I let you out, Elrond will just make you sleep on the floor again. And I dare say, I think you would much rather be in a bed.”

Still, Erestor did not budge, and made a soft hiccupping noise. Concerned, Glorfindel approached him. “Come on, look here,” he said, taking hold of Erestor’s arm. He was much more gentle than Elrond had been about coaxing Erestor to stand up, and was therefore much more successful. As they walked across the room, Erestor tried to pull away and made a desperate whine, but as soon as they were past the bed, he became less tense. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Glorfindel frowned, but led his charge to the table. “All of your pictures are here,” he said as soothingly as he could, and he rubbed Erestor’s back in hopes to help calm him. “You can talk to me whenever you want.”

Already, Erestor was sorting through the pile, separating the tiles into categories in no time at all. This impressed Glorfindel, who sat down across from where Erestor was standing. “Hey.” He waved his hand, catching Erestor’s attention. “You are not as dumb as Elrond thinks you are, are you?”

In reply, Erestor made a sound almost like a snort, and rolled his eyes, then went back to the tiles. Glorfindel, not meaning to, laughed heartily, but Erestor did not seem to mind- in fact, for the first time since meeting the lithe ellon, he smiled. “I have to wonder about you now,” murmured Glorfindel as Erestor concentrated on his task. “What happened to you? Four years old, you came here, but a lot can happen in four years.” He folded his hands together with his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. “A lot can happen in a single day,” he reminded himself.

A knock came at the door, and Glorfindel looked to it, but Erestor’s reaction was delayed, looking only after Glorfindel had stood up. Giving the jittery elf a smile, Glorfindel went to the door, only to find Lindir on the other side. “I thought perhaps having his blanket might help him adjust,” explained the steward, handing the soft bundle to Glorfindel. “I also took the liberty of ordering dinner up for both of you.”

“Thank you.” Glorfindel took the blanket, then motioned for Lindir to step back into the hall. Once there, Glorfindel closed the door behind him. “A question for you,” said the golden elf, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “When his parents brought him here, was there any indication of abuse at all? Any sort of trauma?”

“Trauma, yes, we considered that, but abuse, no.” Lindir placed his hands into his pockets. “Erestor was very close to his parents, always wanting to be held by them. They brought him here when he was just a few years old, but they did not leave him here until he was closer to his majority. After that, he hardly wanted to be touched by anyone. I recall Elrond trying to offer him a hug when he found him curled up by the fireplace in the library one night, and he bit his hand so hard he needed the wound sewn up.”

“I see.” Glorfindel nervously continued to fiddle with the edge of the blanket. “I would imagine that Elrond tried everything he could think of to heal Erestor?”

“Of course; it was why he was brought here in the first place. Unfortunately, to be quite blunt, he cannot cure stupidity. I hate to say it that way, but Erestor is... special,” he finally settled on, shrugging. “I wish I could give you more hope, but he has been here for centuries, and none of us has been able to do much for him.”

When Glorfindel realized there was no more to be said, he nodded. “Thank you, and, thanks,” he said, holding up the blanket.

Lindir placed his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “If you need anything, I am just down the hall, third door on the opposite side,” he said, pointing.

Glorfindel gave another nod, and as he opened the door to reenter, heard Lindir call back as he was walking away, “Erestor was a very sweet elfling. Slow, but kind and gentle. Maybe you will be able to bring that out in him once more.”

As Glorfindel shut the door again and locked it, he noticed Erestor watching him warily. “Lindir,” he said as an answer, and Erestor stuck out his tongue. “You think there is something a bit odd about that one, too,” he agreed.

It was then that Erestor spied the blanket, and he left his work with the tiles to retrieve the bundle from Glorfindel. Hugging it to himself, he immediately walked to the fireplace and plopped it on the floor, making a nest for himself.

“No, no, not there.” Glorfindel picked up the blanket, and Erestor looked up at him, very hurt. “You sleep on the bed now,” he said, and took the blanket there.

Erestor let out something of an ‘ugh?!’ as he saw the blanket being spread out on the bed. Shaking, he backed up into the wall once more.

“You really hate the bed,” Glorfindel realized.

Sliding back down the wall, Erestor shivered and wrapped his arms around his legs again.

Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel took hold of the mattress and with little difficulty, pulled it off of the bed, dumping it onto the floor. “What about now? Still hate it?”

Timidly, Erestor stood up and came to the bed with very tiny steps. He nudged it with his foot, and then knelt down on the edge of it.

“Much better than the floor,” promised Glorfindel.

Erestor was perhaps ignoring him again, for now he continued to explore it until he was satisfied, and laid down resting his head upon one of the pillows. Closing his eyes, he quickly fell asleep, no doubt from the excitement of the day thus far.

It was now that Glorfindel got to take a really good look at his accidental companion. The grey eyes were closed, but in view was the rest of his face, the soft pale lips that were slightly parted and his reddish-brown hair, the strands of which were very fine and escaped the tidy braids in little wisps. He had a very youthful look to him, even for an elf, bordering between handsome and adorable in Glorfindel’s mind.

Eventually, the warrior decided to obtain some rest himself, and carefully relaxed beside Erestor. Sleep overtook him the moment his eyes closed.

When Glorfindel first woke up, he thought perhaps he had fallen out of bed. He soon remembered that he had moved the mattress onto the floor, and immediately looked around for Erestor.

Upon sitting up, he saw the lithe ellon hunched over the table. Instead of playing with the tiles, however, he was shifting the pieces around on the chess board that had once been at the center of the table. It had been a welcoming gift from Celebrian, though until now it had remained unused.

Standing up, the golden elf came around the table and leaned down beside Erestor. “Having fun?” asked Glorfindel as he picked up a rook and moved it to an open space.

Erestor frowned, took hold of the piece, and moved it back.

“Alright,” chuckled Glorfindel. “I will leave you to your fun.” He gave the other elf a gentle pat on the shoulder, then headed to the adjoining room to use the chamber pot. He was gone only a few minutes before returning to wash his hands and splash water on his face in an attempt to freshen himself up. Lifting the towel from the side of the washbasin’s cabinet, he dried his face and carried it with him.

Glorfindel was surprised to see that Erestor had reset all of the pieces back to their original positions, and that he was sitting patiently on one side of the table. “Do you want to play?” asked the slayer as he sat down in the other chair, draping the towel over the back.

Erestor nodded.

Cautiously, Glorfindel moved a pawn forward, unsure of whether Erestor knew quite how to play. After scanning the board, Erestor slid his own matching pawn into the battlefield.

Now curious, Glorfindel tried an illegal move – bringing his rook out of hiding. Before the piece could be set down, Erestor grunted and reached over the table, placing his hand upon Glorfindel’s. He guided the blond’s hand, and the rook, back to their proper position. “Sorry,” apologized Glorfindel. “Been a long time,” he lied.

Erestor relaxed a little, and so Glorfindel moved another pawn.

Next to move was one of Erestor’s knights.

“Shite.” Glorfindel looked up, meeting the other’s gaze. “Are you really good at this or something?”

The only reply was a smirk.

Erestor won three games in a row before Glorfindel finally admitted total defeat.

“I surrender,” he laughed as Erestor’s knight once again caused his king to fall. Glorfindel watched Erestor reset the board once again. “I have a feeling you are just a genius trapped inside a fragile shell,” he mused to himself. Erestor looked up and blinked. “I think we need to take a little break from this. Do you like music?” he asked very slowly when he was sure he was being focused on.

The soft, fleeting smile reappeared momentarily, and Erestor nodded.

“Come on. They keep telling me to come to the Hall of Fire, but do I listen? No, of course not.” Glorfindel stood up and went to the door, unlocking it to find a tray had been left there. “Of course – I forgot all about supper!”

The blond brought the tray in, carrying it over to the table. “This will not do,” he mumbled, and he brought the tray to the mattress, setting it down at the center. “Sorry, but we shall have to eat down here for now.” Glorfindel was well aware of the fact that the revelry continued long into the night in the hall, and that dinner would not cause them to miss it all.

Under the covered dishes, Glorfindel discovered a thick, meaty stew, warm bread, and jelly tarts. Included was a pitcher of water, but no wine. Filling the two glasses, Glorfindel tried to gain Erestor’s attention, but to no avail.

Standing back up, the blond warrior went back to the table, where Erestor was shifting through the various tiles. “Is something wrong?” he asked, noting the puzzled look on Erestor’s face.

Erestor’s hand hovered over a cluster of tiles, until he grabbed the one with a picture of a rabbit on it. Holding it up to show it to Glorfindel, he then took it and turned it upside down on the table, then pointed to himself.

“Uhhmm...” Glorfindel picked up the tile, flipping it over again. “Alright, a rabbit. Obviously, something you want me to know or figure out.” Glorfindel turned the wooden tile around and around, rabbit on its side, rabbit on its head, rabbit on its other side, rabbit right-side-up. Over and over, he played with it. “You... do not like to eat rabbit?” he guessed. “I think the stew is chicken, though.”

Erestor let out an exasperated puff of air.

“You just hate bunnies. You cannot stand the way they hop around. All the carrots annoy you... ahhmm... shite. I... I have no idea...” Glorfindel looked into Erestor’s pleading eyes and tried again. “Rabbit, bunny... bunnyrabbit... rabbit, bunny...” Glorfindel snapped his fingers. “Hare! Hare... uhmmm... hare... could be hair... you hate your hair and want a haircut?”

Blinking a couple of times, Erestor shook his head sadly and took the tile from Glorfindel’s hand, tossing it onto the table with the others. He rubbed his eyes, and then plopped down on the mattress.

Joining him on the other side of the tray, Glorfindel shook his head. “Sorry. I am sorry, Erestor, but I just have a feeling that I am not quite as smart as you are.”

Rapidly shaking his head to disagree, Erestor pointed to Glorfindel, and then positioned his hand out flat, above his head. He pointed to himself with his other hand, then raised that one up to the same level as the first. Lowering his hands, he then made a scowling face, one eyebrow up and one down. Glorfindel grinned when he realized who Erestor was imitating, laughing when a hand was positioned much further down.

“Oh, come now, Lord Elrond is not so bad,” chuckled Glorfindel as Erestor then made a face that reminded him of Lindir, and placed his hand somewhere near to Elrond, but just below it. “Well, I do not think I am quite that brilliant, but I thank you for the compliment.”

Erestor reached across the tray and patted Glorfindel’s cheek, then sat down with a smile to have dinner.

Glorfindel’s smile faltered only briefly as he realized that the friendly gesture was not the only touch he wished to share with this ellon.

Sitting on one of the window seats speaking merrily with the other ladies, Celebrian was the first to spy the pair as they entered. “Excuse me, please,” she apologized amid a heated conversation on floral arranging. Gliding across the hall, she paused beside her husband, who leaned against one of the great pillars with a drink in his hand. Bending at the knee just slightly to kiss his cheek, Celebrian said to Elrond, “Be afeared; the great slayer has just entered with your chief book shelver.”

“Oh?” Elrond did not turn to look, trusting his wife completely. “Do they both seem in good spirits?”

Snuggling against his side as he put an arm around her, Celebrian peered quickly over his shoulder. “Remarkably so. Did you know, you are wrong. Erestor does smile at times.”

Nearly dropping his drink, Elrond spun around, forgetting he had his back to one of the columns. The corner of the wood connected with his nose and he winced.

“Ah, you missed it. Now he is looking rather concerned. Actually, everyone is looking rather concerned, even myself.” Celebrian looked over to Lindir and the other musicians, who had paused in their playing, and motioned for them to continue.

Holding the bridge of his nose, Elrond blinked and then looked in the direction that Celebrian had been watching. Indeed, walking in their direction were Glorfindel and Erestor, looking slightly mussed from their nap.

“You do not think they-“ began Elrond, with Celebrian finishing before he could.

“Nay. Erestor? Please. And Glorfindel is not that type of elf to take advantage of one such as Erestor. Even if they had, they would not have shown up here, they would have had better things to do.” Celebrian whispered all of this quietly to Elrond as Glorfindel and Erestor approached, but when the pair stopped, she received such an odd look from Erestor she almost thought he had heard her. “How pleasant to see you both here this evening!” she said sincerely, then jabbed her husband covertly while he was sipping his drink.

Sputtering for a moment, Elrond swallowed and added, “Yes, yes, quite, very good to see you both.” He saved the glare he wanted to give to his wife for later, and coughed as she patted his back.

“Erestor!”

All of them turned upon hearing the voice of the youth, Elrond’s younger son Elrohir. Glorfindel hid his look of surprise upon noting that Erestor turned his head in the direction of the shout. The young elf, three-quarters the height of the others and lanky in his awkward adolescence, slipped through the crowded room and took hold of Erestor’s hand. “Come with me,” he said. “I asked Lindir to play one of your favorite songs.”

Eagerly, Erestor followed, pulled along by the youngling. Glorfindel kept an eye on them until they stopped near to the benches that the musicians were occupying, stopping at a pole near to them.

“Elrohir is the only one here with the ability to really understand him,” Celebrian said sadly. “Some days, he is the only one that Erestor will respond to.”

“Ah.” Glorfindel continued to watch the pair. Erestor placed his arms around the wooden beam, almost hugging it, his ear pressed upon the wood, while Elrohir sat down at his feet and clapped along with the tune. “Elrohir and Elladan are very different from one another.”

“That they are,” agreed Elrond. “Night and day, not unlike my brother and I were. However, neither Elros nor I was so naughty as Elladan has turned out to be.”

“I did not know you have a brother,” said Glorfindel.

Smiling sadly, Elrond replied, “I had a brother. He is dead now.”

“I am sorry,” apologized Glorfindel immediately.

Elrond waved it off. “It was a long time past. He chose the race of men; I chose the race of elves. I know he was happy with his decision.”

Feeling uneasy now, Glorfindel folded his hands behind his back and looked back to the musicians as he worked on a way to excuse himself to move closer to the music without seeming too protective of Erestor.

“Did the two of you have a less stressful afternoon following the events of this morning?” asked Celebrian politely during an intermission.

“Actually, yes. We both took a nap – much needed, I believe – and then we played chess for a while before dinner.”

Again, Elrond sputtered and hacked as he tried unsuccessfully to drink from his glass. “Erestor played chess with you?”

“He beat me thrice,” admitted Glorfindel.

“You cannot spoil him by allowing him to win,” countered Elrond. Before Glorfindel could dispute him, Elrond said, “Erestor playing chess. I wonder what is next.”

Jabbing her husband in the side, this time not so discretely, Celebrian said, “It is good that the two of you are getting along so well. It usually takes Erestor quite some time to feel comfortable with anyone new.”

“I found out he hates beds. We ended up sleeping on the mattress on the floor,” Glorfindel explained.

Clicking her tongue, Celebrian turned to Elrond. “Did you not tell him about that?” Poking her finger into his ribs and making him squirm and spill what little was left in his glass onto the floor, she further scolded him with, “You should have told him about that. What if Erestor had thrown a fit?”

Elrond cleared his throat, administered the saved glare, then looked to Glorfindel and said, “It seems to have slipped my mind at the time, but Erestor hates beds for some reason.”

“Noted,” Glorfindel said dryly. “You do not happen to know what a bunny would have to do with anything, do you?”

“A real one?” questioned Elrond.

Glorfindel shook his head. “One of the tiles depicts a rabbit. He showed it to me this evening, then pointed to himself. I tried to figure it out, but I had to give up.”

“A rabbit... I have no clue, either,” said Elrond. Beside him, Celebrian was pondering the riddle herself.

“Did he do anything else, before or after?” she asked.

Thinking back, Glorfindel said, “No, not really. When I said ‘hare’, he looked hopeful, but then I messed up somehow.”

“Hare... hare...” Celebrian got an intense look on her face as she thought. “Hare... har, hari, heru, her, har, hir, hur—wait, he pointed at himself first, or the tile?”

“The tile,” said Glorfindel.

“Then I think I have it!” Celebrian grinned with excitement. “He pointed to the tile, then to himself. Hare, sounds like hîr, and then he points to himself, benn. Hîr – benn, herven, husband. He wants to know if they two of you are mates,” she said, almost in a cooing voice.

A mutual exchange of ‘I do not think so’ looks crossed between Elrond and Glorfindel. “Well, maybe,” Glorfindel then said. “I mean, I was completely wrong. Perhaps that is what he meant.”

“Erestor, telling riddles like that?” Elrond shook his head. “Celebrian, darling, how much wine have you had this evening?”

Giving her husband a sour look, she responded with, “Not enough – I need another glass. If you will excuse me.”

“If you will excuse us both, Glorfindel. And it is a pleasure to see you have finally joined us in the hall this evening,” added Elrond, following after his wife.

Glorfindel bowed his head to them as they left, considering Celebrian’s idea. There was only one way to find out whether or not it was correct, but a part of him feared being wrong. Things were going well with Erestor, and he did not want to alienate him in any way. His eyes drifted to the musicians, and he watched Erestor, still beside the pole, with Elrohir on the ground. Now and then, Elrohir would look up and call to Erestor, and then once Erestor looked down would speak to him.

“Erestor is not the only one being underestimated around here,” mumbled Glorfindel to himself.

Once back in Glorfindel’s suite again, the warrior sat down on a chair at the door to remove his boots. He noticed for the first time that Erestor had not footwear, and simply walked about barefooted. The lithe ellon was taking in the rooms with curiosity now, having gone into the library out of habit after they left the Hall of Fire. Upon reaching the fireplace, noticing his blanket was not there, and then recalling the previous events of the day, Erestor sheepishly led himself and Glorfindel out of the room before they were noticed by any of the staff.

Now Glorfindel watched Erestor disappear into the private washroom, then emerge a few minutes later and head to the basin of water. “I think, despite our nap, that I am ready for bed.” Glorfindel looked to his companion, who was busily washing and drying his hands.

Rising from the chair, Glorfindel went to the table, and began to sort through the pieces. Erestor joined him not long after. “Here it is,” said the blond, picking up the rabbit. He held it out, and then said, “I asked Celebrian about this. Do you know what she suggested?”

The look on Erestor’s face was not very hopeful, and he merely shrugged.

“She thinks you were asking me if we... if you and I... if we were together. As in, a couple. As bound mates,” he explained cautiously.

Glorfindel did not need a verbal answer to know from the look Erestor was giving him that he was further from the truth than he might have been earlier. Erestor plucked the tile from Glorfindel’s hand, set it down, and then patted him on the cheek as he had earlier before going to the mattress.

“Well, then, maybe she was drinking a bit much wine,” mumbled Glorfindel. His eyes wandered to the make-shift bed on the floor, and it looked quite inviting. Despite his answer being the wrong one, it seemed that Erestor was not disgusted by the idea completely. He had crawled under the blanket already, and they had slept on the mattress together earlier.

With these thoughts in mind, Glorfindel stretched his arms, then lifted his shirt off over his head. He noted that this caused Erestor to sit up, as if in alarm. “Just getting ready for bed,” Glorfindel said as he began to untie his pants.

That was when Erestor hastily backed up, fear in his eyes. Forgetting exactly where he was, Erestor smacked his head into the frame of the bed as he collided with it, and in a panic scurried away from the attacking object.

“Shite!” Glorfindel knotted his pants in the commotion, but realized it was likely for the best. “Now what did I do?” he asked himself, though he assumed he had once again been the reason Erestor was scared.

Lowering himself to the ground, Glorfindel crawled the few feet over the mattress and past the bed to the wall that Erestor was huddled against. “Sorry. I was not thinking. Actually, I had not considered it until now. You hate beds for a reason.”

Glorfindel attempted to place his arms around Erestor, but the smaller elf edged further away and took a swing at him. “Alright, alright.” Glorfindel held up his hands in surrender of that idea. As soon as Erestor relaxed a little, the blond motioned to him to gain his attention. “Let me see if I can understand this. No more hitting me, though. I want to be your friend. Alright?”

Erestor placed his hands into his lap and nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel said, “You hate beds. You hate the door being locked. You did not want me to take my pants off. Did someone do something bad to you?”

For a moment, Erestor just stared at Glorfindel. Tears began to well up in the corners of his grey eyes, and Erestor looked away, only to have his chin lifted back up again.

“Show me what they did to you.”

Immediately, Erestor froze and began to shake. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, balling up his fists.

“Erestor.” Glorfindel placed his hand on his companion’s cheek, causing his eyes to open. “Erestor, you cannot tell me. Show me. I know you will not hurt me like they hurt you.”

Erestor held up two fingers.

“Two. There were only two who hurt you?”

Erestor nodded, shamefully bowing his head.

“Erestor.” Glorfindel’s voice was stern, and he nudged Erestor’s chin with his fingers. “Erestor, show me.”

It took a little extra coaxing, but finally Erestor was standing beside Glorfindel at the foot of the bed. Erestor pointed at the mattress, then to the bed frame. “You want me to put that back?” asked Glorfindel. Erestor nodded.

Glorfindel first removed the special blanket, setting it aside on a chair before he hefted the mattress back in place. He then looked to Erestor, waiting.

Giving the bed a loathe look, Erestor motioned Glorfindel to come to the door with him. He opened the door and held up two fingers, pointing into the hallway. Holding up one, he pointed into the room, then held up one finger again, and pointed right next to the door, outside of the room.

A sick feeling churned Glorfindel’s stomach. “One of them stayed outside, the other came into your room.” Erestor nodded. “I am going to pretend to be you; you pretend to be the one who came into the room.” Hesitantly, Erestor nodded again. “Should I go to the bed?” Should I lie down?” Each question was answered with another nod, and Glorfindel left Erestor at the door.

With some slight trepidation himself, Glorfindel got into the bed, and tried to relax but found he was extremely tense. His heart raced in his chest as his mind spun one scenario after another. Turning his head to the side, he saw that Erestor was still waiting at the door, and he nodded to him.

Erestor took a step forward, then back, turning around to lock the door. He came forward then, and playing the part, had a look of indifference on his face to Glorfindel’s discomfort.

It was at the bed that he stopped, and after looking around for a moment, he yanked the sheet off of the bed. One corner was tied around one of Glorfindel’s wrists, which was then positioned at the headboard. Erestor paused, now unsure of himself.

Glorfindel craned his neck, noticing that there were no poles or posts on the headboard, and said, “After you were bound, what did he do to you?”

Erestor faltered, squeezing his eyes shut as tears trailed down his cheeks. He sat upon the edge of the bed, gathering his strength. Not meeting Glorfindel’s eyes with his own, Erestor climbed upon the bed, and straddled Glorfindel’s chest. With one hand, he reached down and firmly took hold of Glorfindel’s jaw, squeezing his cheeks together and causing him to part his lips.

At that point, Erestor broke down completely, scrambling away, but not before Glorfindel could sit up and draw him close. Although he felt terrible for making Erestor relive such painful memories, it was the only way that the warrior could know for sure. “You poor thing,” he said, rocking Erestor as he softly sobbed and clung to him. “No one should ever take advantage of anyone like that.” Holding the weeping elf tighter, Glorfindel kissed Erestor’s forehead. “I wish I had come back soon enough to protect you from such a thing, but at least now I know why I have been sent back.”

“Harder! Ugghn! Yes, more, yes!”

“I should... get you drunk... more often...”

Few words were exchanged from that point on as Elrond thrust faster and deeper into his wife’s slick passage, while Celebrian dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned to him her pleasure. Neither noticed the little elfling that wandered into the room and stood silently by the doorway.

“Ahhnnn! Yes... yes... hhhnnnhh.” Elrond sat up carefully, looking down through drooping eyelids. “You alright?”

Celebrian panted and closed her eyes, her head rolling to the side. Chest heaving, she nodded against the soft pillow. “Would you get me a glass of water?”

“Of course.” Elrond moved from their bed, fumbling to light a candle to take with him. In the soft glow, he made out the silhouette of his sneaky son beside the doorway. Glancing to be sure Celebrian’s eyes were still closed, Elrond then narrowed his eyes at Elladan and pointed to the hallway.

Elrond exited the room practically on Elladan’s heels. When they were back into the main sitting room, Elrond placed his hand on the youth’s shoulder and steered him to the couch, sitting him forcefully down. “What have I told you about knocking before you enter someone’s room?”

“To do it?”

“Yes!” hissed Elrond. “Why did you just walk in without knocking?”

“I thought... I just thought you would be asleep,” mumbled Elladan.

Squinting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Elrond sighed. “If you thought we were asleep, there was no reason for you to come in.”

“I wanted to say I was sorry about today,” explained Elladan. “I still feel bad about it.”

“You feel bad because you have been grounded,” reasoned Elrond. “You feel bad that you will spend your free time helping to reset the library and that you are not allowed to come to the hall at night until the library is back in order.”

“No, I feel bad because Elrohir said I nearly killed Erestor,” said Elladan. “I wanted to say I was sorry, but he never came back to the library tonight. I went to your healing room to see if he was hurt, but no one was there.”

“Erestor was very shocked, to say the least, because of your antics,” Elrond said. “If you want to tell him you are sorry, you shall have to wait until tomorrow. He is being taken care of by Lord Glorfindel.”

“Oh. Alright.” Elladan fumbled with his fingers. “May I go to bed again, sir?”

Rolling his eyes at this response, Elrond placed his arm gently around Elladan’s shoulder. “Do you even know why I was so upset this morning?” Elladan shook his head. “I could have lost you today, Elladan! What if you had tumbled from that shelf? What if you had fallen beneath the one that fell? There was no one who could have saved you in time – do you understand now why I was so angry?”

“I... thought you cared more about the books...” pouted Elladan with a sniffle.

“Well, yes, once I knew you were alright, I was concerned with the books. They are expensive! But you were my main concern- you were why I rushed from my office when your brother came to tell me what happened! Do you understand that now?” Elladan wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “I love you, ion-nin. I want nothing bad to befall you. No more shelf climbing.”

“Yes, Ada.”

Elrond wrapped his other arm around his son and embraced him. “You are getting big so fast, ion-nin. I cannot always protect you; I do the best I can. And I teach you to think a little harder about the things you do when you do things like this. Now get to bed; you have a lot of books to put away tomorrow.”

Hugging his father back, Elladan offered a muffled but heartfelt “I love you,” back, and then stood to return to his room. At the doorway, he turned and asked warily, “What were you and Nana doing?”

“What do you think we were doing?” questioned Elrond in a low voice.

“Trying to make a baby,” answered Elladan. “According to Legolas, when your parents are in bed together making a lot of disgusting noises, it means they want more kids.”

“That was exactly what we were doing,” answered Elrond, wondering if leaving his sons alone to play with Thranduil’s children was such a good idea for the future. “Now, off to bed,” he said hastily.

“A baby to replace me?” Elladan looked over with concern in his stormy grey eyes.

“Oh, no, I have no intention of replacing you, or your brother, no matter what trouble you cause. Now you are being silly. To bed, or I will add another week of grounding to your punishment.” Elrond watched Elladan disappear quickly down the hallway to his own room, and close the door as he want inside. “Besides,” said Elrond quietly to himself as he retrieved the water his wife had requested, “I will be praying for a girl next time, a very quiet, sweet, obedient little girl...”

** -- ** -- **

Two floors below, Lindir squinted in the dim candlelight, working so intently that he did not even consider replacing the stubby wax puddles with new tapers. “Dear King Thrandu—no, no, too for-r-rmal,” he said through a yawn. The sheet was dropped neatly into the waste basket. “Your royal high... blah.”

Lindir picked up the page by the corner, and held it over the basket. As he let go, he watched the sheet float down into the wooden bin. “Damn, I should go to bed.”

Stretching his arms behind his back and trying to work the kink from his spine, Lindir looked to the housecat curled up on a pile of books. “How would you address Thranduil?”

The cat blinked, yawned, and flicked her tail.

“Fine. Be that way.” Dipping his quill into the inkwell, Lindir began again. “To the Great King of Greenwood.” Lindir sat back. “Yes, that will do.” He began to write once again, copying down the message that Elrond had dictated to him earlier in the day inviting the King and his family to Rivendell for a holiday. It was customary that every few years, either Elrond or Thranduil would invite the other to his realm for a few months time. This had begun soon after the return from the Great War, which had claimed the lives of Elrond’s best friend and confidant and Thranduil’s mentor and father. The first invitation had come from Thranduil, and a few years later Elrond decided to reciprocate.

“And now, it is our turn to play host.” Lindir signed the letter with Elrond’s name, chuckling to himself that if ever Elrond made an attempt to sign something himself it would be considered forgery. Neatly sealing the document after it dried, Lindir tucked it into a cloth bag, which was then filled with an assortment of sparkling jewels and some trinkets which would be of interest to Thranduil’s ever-growing brood. He then locked the bag in his desk, and tucked the key in his pocket.

Rubbing the cat’s neck, Lindir smiled as she purred. “Time for bed?” The cat stood up, stretching her legs and arching her back. She jumped into Lindir’s arms once he extinguished the last of the sad-looking candles, landing daintily and purring.

From the office, he carried her up two flights of steps, retiring to his bedroom. After depositing his cat on the bed, Lindir went to a puzzle box and pushed slats of wood here and there until the center of the box was revealed. It was here that he placed the key, and then retraced his steps. Once it was again looking like an ordinary little wooden box, Lindir set it back in place.

His clothing he removed amid further yawning, dumping it in a pile at the door for the maid to collect the next morning when she brought his breakfast. He cleaned his teeth was a soft, spongy wand and some strong mint paste while looking in the mirror at a scar across his nose. The scar had been fading for some time now – some told him it had faded already – but he still studied his nose and found it all the same.

Once finished with his nightly routine, Lindir climbed into bed with a book he had every intention of finishing, or at the very least, starting. This was until he sighed and tossed the book onto the covers next to himself. “I love this bed,” purred to himself, stretching his toes until his feet were flat against the silken sheets.

With very little coaxing, he blew a puff of air at the freshly lit candle on the nightstand, and curled his arms around his pillow. At his feet, his one and only companion kneaded her favorite spot before settling down for the night as well.

** -- ** -- **

Several doors down, for the first time in centuries, Erestor was asleep in a bed.

Sitting in a chair beside the bed, Glorfindel kept watch on his charge, while playing with the tiles on the table. He picked up the rabbit, which was still mystifying him.

Tonight would be a sleepless one for the warrior, but after so long a time in the Halls of Waiting, it seemed he was due a bit of sleeplessness. Quietly, he wandered the room, minding himself to look at Erestor’s sleeping form often. At any sign of a nightmare, Glorfindel was ready to wake and comfort the younger ellon.

For the first time since his arrival, Glorfindel took a really good look at the rooms he had been given. They were much larger than he needed for his own needs, but now with Erestor living in them as well he was glad for them.

Stopping at the desk, Glorfindel opened the cabinet above the writing area, finding many little drawers and spaces for things like different colors of ink and extra quills. In one drawer, he discovered jars of paint. A thought came to him as he closed the drawer, so he slid it out again. He selected a few of the darker colors before closing it again. More compartments were opened until he found the one containing brushes. He was happy to find one with a very fine tip.

Taking his treasures to the table, he deposited them there before going back to the desk to tidy up. Once more, he went to the bed, smiling as he observed Erestor’s peaceful rest, before he sat down at the table to begin his project.

“Ada, may I have permission to speak to Erestor this morning before I go to the library?” Elladan had made haste in eating his breakfast, assuming this might weigh in his father’s decision.

“Do you know which door is Lord Glorfindel’s?” asked Elrond as he picked up his napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth where some porridge had strayed.

Elladan nodded. “’Tis the one where people keep leaving yellow flowers because of his House.”

“Actually,” corrected Celebrian, “the reason the flowers are being left for him is because yellow flowers sprang up through the cracks in the rocks and stones that his body was buried beneath when he died. Those who escaped Gondolin came from many different houses, and they decided because of his kindness and his self sacrifice to adopt the house of the flower. Anyone who remembers it or had relatives who lived because of him now leave tributes."

“Really? That seems morbid,” commented Elrohir.

But Elladan’s mind was elsewhere. “Do you think I should take some?”

“As long as you do not tear up the gardens searching for them, it might be a nice gesture,” said Celebrian.

“You are excused, Elladan, but mind you, I expect the time to be made up in the library this evening,” Elrond informed him.

“Yes, Ada.” Elladan slid his chair back, hurried to the door, and put on his boots before he left.

** -- ** -- **

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Glorfindel pulled out the chair beside him for Erestor to sit down upon. “Did you sleep well?” When he received no response, Glorfindel nudged Erestor’s chin so that they were facing one another. “Sleep well?”

Erestor nodded his head, his eyes still looking tired but at least not so weary as he was. Rubbing them with his fists, Erestor blinked when he saw the tiles that were spread out on the table. He reached out for one, but Glorfindel caught his hand.

“Wait a little while. The paint has not dried yet,” explained the warrior. “When it does, perhaps we can play a few games with them.”

All of the tiles had been turned over, and on the back of each, Glorfindel had painted the corresponding word. Gingerly picking up one of them by the edges, he said, “You know what a rabbit looks like, but now you will know what ‘RABBIT’ looks like.”

The younger ellon’s eyes lit up as he realized what Glorfindel had done. Easing Glorfindel’s hand down so that the tile could be set back onto the table, Erestor then threw his arms around Glorfindel and hugged him fiercely.

“In no time at all, you will be able to talk to us,” vowed Glorfindel. “Even if only by means of pen and paper, it will be something. You may be a silent genius, but all the same you are too intelligent to be left with no means of communication.”

Erestor heard none of this, for he was still clinging to Glorfindel, who put his arms around the lithe elf now. “I suppose I should have slept, but I was too excited to stop once I started.” Waiting until Erestor sat back up, Glorfindel said to him, “I need to sleep now.”

With a nod, Erestor stood up and motioned to the bed and for Glorfindel to follow. The blond, still wearing his pants and now a light shirt, made no attempt to remove his clothing as he climbed into the bed. Erestor sat down on the edge, giving the pillow a wistful look.

“Are you still tired?” questioned Glorfindel softly.

Erestor’s eyes shifted back and he looked intently at the blond now.

Glorfindel lifted up the edge of the sheet, patting the empty spot with his hand. “Do you want to sleep a little while longer?”

It looked as if Erestor might flee at any moment, but just as Glorfindel lowered the sheet, the timid elf crawled in beside him. Erestor placed his head on the pillow with caution, watching Glorfindel the entire time.

“I admire your courage,” said Glorfindel, hoping the last word was one that Erestor understood. “You have gone through so much; you have faced such a terrible thing, and yet you are willing to try to conquer the one thing which you seem to fear most.”

Erestor ran his fingers over the seam of the sheet. He looked as if trying to think of a way to tell Glorfindel something, so the warrior propped himself up with one arm, resting his head against his hand. Erestor pointed his finger at Glorfindel, tapping his chest, and then reached up and patted his head as one would do to reward a pet who had behaved.

“Good boy? I am good? I am... nice?” tried Glorfindel. The third attempt earned a smile from Erestor, who then pointed again to Glorfindel, to himself, and then to his smile. “I, me, you... we smile... we... no, wait... I make you smile.” Erestor grinned, and nodded. “Oh, you make me smile, too,” admitted Glorfindel. “And you are nice as well.” Erestor shrugged off the second comment. “Yes, you are. A little shy, but you are sweet.” Turning away, Erestor blushed.

** -- ** -- **

“I need some yellow flowers,” said Elladan once he found a gardener.

“Everyone seems to need them these days,” scowled the ellon, whose name was Melvodir. “Do you even see a single yellow flower in the beds?”

“No,” said Elladan after he had looked around.

“No, indeed!” Melvodir shook his head, spiking his little spade into the ground. He wiped the dirt off of his hands onto his apron and said, “I bet you want them for Lord Glorfindel’s door.”

“Yes, please,” said Elladan, holding onto some hope.

“Hmmph. Well there are none, so you can just leave me alone.” Melvodir went back to his task of weeding the petunias.

Casting his eyes to the ground, Elladan wandered a little further down the path, hoping to spot a flower or two on his way. His feet took him far from the house until it was barely in sight, where to his delight he spotted some yellow flowers of some sort across a stream. The stream was not too deep, and it appeared there was no current. Spying a log that someone had tossed over a narrow spot for a bridge, Elladan hurriedly stepped upon it and began to run to the other side.

Unfortunately, the log bridge was not anchored, and Elladan’s swift pace dislodged it. Now he fought to keep his footing as it rolled with increasing speed away from his destination, and out to the pond that the stream fed into.

“Elladan!” A voice came from the shore, and almost at once, the youngling saw Lindir sprinting forward. “Elladan, when I tell you to, jump!”

“Into the water?” panicked Elladan, who noticed he was moving closer and closer to the deeper parts.

“No! Towards me! Ready?” Lindir had nearly caught up with the log now, and had his arms outstretched as he ran. “Jump!”

Elladan did not hesitate, and leaped into Lindir’s arms, knocking the older elf onto the ground. They were in a heap, but neither had more than scratches and bruises. The log spun faster, and plummeted down into the water of the pond, splashing water up in an arch before it bobbed up again with another spray. “I am so stupid,” mumbled Elladan.

“There, there,” comforted Lindir, giving the peredhel a hug. “What were you trying to do?”

“I wanted to bring Glorfindel some flowers for his door. I have to go and apologize to Erestor this morning.”

“Morning? Gracious me, Elladan, it is nearly noon,” explained the steward. “I came looking for you when I saw you were not in the library. I wanted to be sure that you do not fall behind on your lessons despite having to work in there.”

“Noon!” blurted out Elladan. “Oh, no! Ada is going to kill me!”

“Oh, hush, he will do no such thing,” scolded Lindir gently. “He may not be very happy that you shirked your duties this morning, but if you work hard it may make up for it.”

Elladan hung his head. “I have no flowers for Glorfindel’s door.”

“Here.” Lindir walked Elladan to a tree whose branches were heavy with ripe apples. “Take him some of these, for him and Erestor. I think they will be more appreciated than a bunch of dead flowers.”

“Really?” Elladan filled all of his pockets with them until his pants bulged on either side and his vest looked like it was infected with something. “Thank you, Lindir!”

“You are welcome. Now, hurry back to the house, you might catch them before lunch!”

Lindir sighed in relief once Elladan had scampered off. He sat down at the edge of the stream, alone with his thoughts.

“...furthermore, I expect that when Thranduil arrives we shall have need to...”

Elladan dodged around a corner, hiding himself behind a door and holding his breath as he father and a group of advisers passed by. Once the tail end of the final heavy robe trailed behind the council as they strolled down the hallway, Elladan rushed around the door, only to run right into Melpomaen, butting him in the chest. The youngest of the advisory staff stumbled a step back in surprise while Elladan cringed.

Looking over his shoulder, Elladan saw that the rest of the group was nearly at the end of the hallway. When they entered through the council room doors he would be safe, but he feared one had heard the commotion or would be alerted by Melpomaen. By now, the entire valley knew of Elladan’s mishap in the library and what he was supposed to be doing.

Melpomaen, however, was a kindly ellon, and placing a finger to his lips, waved Elladan around him. Mouthing his silent thanks, Elladan went swiftly past, only to hear his father a few moments later calling to the straggling scribe that he should hurry up and join the rest of the council, for this was not an optional meeting.

Checking the apples for bruises as he wandered down the hall to find Lord Glorfindel’s door, Elladan managed to almost plow into another elf along the way. “I thought you were supposed to be in the library,” accused the youngling once he was safely out of the way.

“What? Oh, Elrohir, yes, I am. I was just going there now,” Elladan explained.

“The library,” said Elrohir in a very informative voice, “is that way.”

“Good. Nice to know it hasn’t moved since I was last there,” shot back his twin.

Elrohir frowned. “Stop getting snippy with me. I was not the one who tried to destroy it.”

“I was NOT trying to destroy it,” growled Elladan. “I just wanted a book from the upper shelf.”

“We are not supposed to be reading things on the restricted shelves,” Elrohir reminded his brother calmly.

“Fuck you.” Elladan seemed just as surprised as his brother at his outburst. “I mean...”

“I am letting someone know that you have lost your way to the library,” said Elrohir as he began to walk away. “And,” he added over his shoulder, “I am telling Nana what you just said to me.”

“Fine! I learned it! From! Her!” Elladan pulled an apple from his pocket and threw it at Elrohir, pegging him in the shoulder. The barely younger elf turned around and looked about ready to cry. “Elrohir, I am sorry. Wait!” Elladan sighed as his brother went running down the hallway, no doubt planning to make good on his threat.

Elladan took a number of heavy steps down the hall, watching over his shoulder most of the time, before coming up with an idea. If he was in Glorfindel’s room, maybe he could make his mother believe he had been there the entire time.

** -- ** -- **

With a lazy smile on his face, Glorfindel studied every detail of Erestor’s face, which was so close he had to blink now and then to keep his eyes from crossing. After convincing Erestor to join him in bed, it was Erestor who eventually edged himself beside Glorfindel and snuggled against him. Glorfindel held Erestor in his arms until they had both fallen asleep, and when he woke, Glorfindel had kept Erestor close.

So far, Glorfindel had watched Erestor take several hundred quiet breaths through slightly parted pink lips, and counted eighty-six light caramel-colored freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. He was less pale now than when he had arrived, just yesterday.

“What a difference a day makes,” whispered Glorfindel as he watched errant strands of dark hair that had escaped from their braids wave back and forth as he breathed. “I could do this forever.”

Before he had the chance to attempt such a feat, Glorfindel was jarred from his post-reverie musings by someone slamming the door open. Sitting up abruptly, Glorfindel saw Elladan standing in the doorway, and that the door had been opened with such force that it had smashed into a table and vase behind the door. The table was just knocked a little ways back; the vase did not fair so well.

“Oops,” said Elladan as he heard the crash of the piece of pottery. “Uhmm... good day, Lord Glorfindel, I, ahm, I brought some apples.” Emptying his pockets onto the floor, Elladan tried to smile, but it came through as a look of distress.

Thankful that the noise had not woken Erestor, Glorfindel climbed out of bed and went to the door, closing it. “Elladan, what are you doing here? I thought you were assigned to the library.”

“I came to apologize to Erestor for yesterday,” explained the youth.

The table behind the door decided it was too quiet, and after dropping a leg, teetered to the ground with a thud.

“Oh, fuck,” muttered Elladan.

“What was that?” questioned Glorfindel in a warning tone.

“Nothing!” Elladan panicked, backing against the door. “Please... do not tell my parents!”

“Then I never want to hear you say that word again,” Glorfindel said sternly. Elladan nodded instantly. “Alright. Come in here and help me with this mess.”

Elladan took a step into the room, and immediately stepped down on one of the apples. It was a very ripe one, and squished into a pile, except for the part that spurted across the room onto the wall.

Glorfindel regarded the wall, and looked up at Elladan. The youngling cringed. It started as a smirk, but soon Glorfindel was laughing. “You are just a walking accident waiting to happen,” he said in a rather jolly tone as he started to gather the light blue shards of pottery. Elladan sunk down to the ground to help with a pout. “Elladan, I did not mean that in a cruel way. What I meant was that at this age, you are no longer an elfling, and you have yet to grow into your adult form. It is an awkward time.”

“Elrohir seems to have no trouble with it,” said Elladan.

“He probably has his own troubles that he just manages to hide better,” suggested Glorfindel, taking a napkin from the tray that had come with breakfast and had been left forgotten. With it, he did the best he could to clean up the chunky pile of applesauce. “Maybe he is more graceful with his body when he moves, but perhaps there are other items he struggles with.”

“His voice cracks and jumps three octaves when he tries to talk to girls,” noted Elladan. “He squeaks.”

“There you go,” Glorfindel nodded. When the table had been set upright and the leg wedged in place, Glorfindel looked to the bed with a frown. None of the talking or commotion has awoken Erestor, and though he was apparently just a sound sleeper, Glorfindel still had another nagging idea in the back of his mind.

“Elladan, would you do me a favor?” asked the elf-lord.

Eagerly, Elladan agreed. “What must I do?”

“I am going to wake up Erestor. He and I will be sitting right there,” said Glorfindel, pointing to the table. “I want you to wait just a few minutes, and then run over to the door, and try to surprise him.”

“How?” asked Elladan with a bit of worry.

“Just... scream, yell, shout, make a lot of noise. Can you do that?”

“Absolutely!” Elladan headed out of the room and waited just a few doors away.

Standing up, Glorfindel moved the apples that were left onto the table, then walked to the bed and sat down. Erestor’s back was to him, so he gently placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. Almost right away, Erestor woke and looked up. “It is afternoon, and I thought you might be hungry,” said Glorfindel. Erestor pondered this a moment and nodded. “There are apples on the table, and I thought we might take a look at the tiles before we go to lunch.” Another nod was given, and as Erestor rose from bed, stretched, and yawned, Glorfindel quickly went to the table and moved the chairs to the other side so that they would be facing away from the open door.

“I put the most common word on the back, but there may be others. We can worry about those later. After lunch, we can pick up some paper somewhere, and then I will teach you to write some of these words.” Glorfindel found Erestor’s smiles were contagious, and found himself smiling back. “This is going to be fun.”

Erestor nodded, and started looking over the tiles, flipping them over to find out which words went with which pictures. A few times, Glorfindel watched as Erestor moved his lips, as if he had heard some of the words before, but the temporary hope Glorfindel had that someday he would hear Erestor speak was shattered by the arrival of Elladan at the door.

“Bllllllaaaaaghghhh! Rrraaaaaarrrr! Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiyaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaa!”

“Aahh!” Quite unexpectedly, Glorfindel fell from his seat upon hearing the outburst in the hallway.

Erestor belatedly looked down at the floor, giving Glorfindel a puzzled look.

The blond warrior put his hand to his chest as he closed his eyes. Part of him had been caught off-guard from Elladan’s show in the hallway, while another part of him felt a deep pain upon realizing with certainty what Erestor’s plight was.

In yet another part of the house, someone who was not invited to the council meeting wandered into it.

“Elrohir, I do hope you have a good reason for interrupting,” Elrond said, glaring across the room at his younger son.

“I am so sorry for entering without leave to do so, Ada,” said Elrohir humbly, “but I was looking for mother and could not find her.”

“She is at the river with friends of hers; she will return this eve. Can it not wait?” asked Elrond, giving apologetic looks to the members of the council, who were all waving it off, many of them with children of their own who had done similar things in the past.

Elrohir bowed his head. “I will wait for her. It is nothing of great importance; Elladan has enough to deal with.” The youth turned to leave.

“Excuse me for a moment,” said Elrond. He left his chair at the head of the table, joining Elrohir at the door. Quietly he asked, “What did your brother do?”

Producing the apple, Elrohir said, “He threw it at me.”

“Did it hit you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“What did you do to provoke him?”

“I just told him he should be in the library, not wandering the halls,” whispered Elrohir.

Elrond folded his arms over his chest, sighing. “When did this occur.”

“A few minutes ago, in the hallway. Right after he told me ‘fuck you’,” added the peredhel.

Blinking rapidly to a blank, unreadable expression, Elrond rhetorically asked, “He said what?”

“He said-“ But Elrohir did not have time to finish.

“El-ladan!” bellowed the lord of the house.

“Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Elladan was shaking slightly, his eyes fixed in the direction that the dreadful yell had come from. “This time, Ada WILL kill me!”

Glorfindel stood up and demanded to know what Elladan was talking about, and once the story was mournfully relayed, he took matters into his own hands. “Follow me, say nothing. Which way is the library?”

Elladan stepped out into the hall and pointed to the right. Glorfindel nodded, and then turned to Erestor. “I will be back very soon. When I return, you and I will discuss how we will go about teaching you to read. Now that I know you are deaf, it makes things easier to plan.” Had Erestor not been aware of the fact that something was very wrong with Elladan, he might have embraced Glorfindel again and clung to him as before. Instead, he nodded, and made a shooing motion.

Walking swiftly, Glorfindel and Elladan took the shortest route possible to the library. “So Erestor really is deaf?”

“You knew that already?” questioned Glorfindel.

“Well, no, but Elrohir kept telling everyone that. No one believed him though,” Elladan explained.

Giving Elladan a curious look, Glorfindel asked, “Why not?”

“Ada said that elves cannot be deaf.” Elladan shrugged. “No one argues with Ada.”

Upon entering the library, Glorfindel firmly patted Elladan’s shoulder. “Thank you so much for helping me this morning. I do not know if I could have finished without you.”

Some of the elves looked up from what they were doing, most of whom were reorganizing books and moving the debris of the shelves out of the way. There were a few who gave Elladan a dark look, but from the master librarian on duty, there was nothing but relief. “Elladan, there you are! We were beginning to worry about you,” explained the librarian sincerely.

“It was my fault,” apologized Glorfindel. “I caught him in the hall this morning and asked his assistance in a project I am working on.”

“Next time, please let me know before you steal him away,” laughed the librarian. “Poor Lindir has been looking for you all morning!”

As if on cue, Lindir stepped into the library. Spotting Elladan, he began to take a step in his direction, until the back doors burst open, and in stormed Elrond, with Elrohir trailing behind his father, bruised apple in hand.

Elladan lowered his head upon seeing the look on his father’s face. Immediately, Lindir reacted. “Elladan, after you have finished this evening, could you come to my office and assist me with that project we were working on.”

The librarian, now baffled, looked from Lindir, to Glorfindel, and back again. “You are all working on this project together?” he questioned. “How intriguing... what sort of project? Perhaps I might be able to assist in some way...?”

Lindir was caught with his mouth open, but for only a moment. “We are teaching Erestor how to read,” explained Glorfindel.

All work in the room stopped, until one of the older scribes burst out laughing. Many joined him, snickering and offering their commentary. The head librarian himself appeared quite amused. “You do know that it is going to be a waste of your time,” he said. “I can understand, my lord, your ambition, but Your Excellency,” he said, addressing the steward, “I can hardly imagine why you have taken on such a project of folly.”

“Well... no one has ever made an attempt to teach him before... so, it might be... possible,” offered Lindir. “Besides, Rocheldir, would it be so bad to have another reader among the Imladrin population?”

“Of course not,” Rocheldir replied immediately. “It just seems a waste of time.”

Elrond, who had silently observed all exchanges, walked directly to Elladan, who had spent the time staring at the floor. Plucking the apple from the air that Elrohir had been tossing up and down and catching, Elrond held it under his son’s nose. “Did you ‘lose’ this?”

Elladan gulped.

“I asked you a question,” said Elrond in a dangerously low tone. “When you passed your brother in the hallway, did you have a dispute with him, and did you throw this at him?”

Shamefully, Elladan nodded his head.

Folding his arms over his chest, Elrond shook his head. “If that is true, I have no reason to doubt that you used some very colorful language as well.”

“Nana says it all the time!” argued Elladan, and then realizing he had raised his voice, he lowered it and said, “I learned it from her!”

“We will discuss this further tonight when you get home. I expect you to work a full shift here before then, whether or not that means you must miss dinner. Do I make myself clear?” rumbled the deep tone.

Elladan nodded, and went right away to the mixed up piles of books to help reorganize them. Elrond handed the apple back to Elrohir, then instructed Rocheldir, “If you do not think he is working hard enough, by all means, keep him longer.” The master librarian nodded and headed back to work. Then, Elrond’s eyes came to Glorfindel and Lindir. “What sort of nonsense was that?”

“It is the truth,” Glorfindel replied with all honesty. “I am- we are,” he amended, realizing the lie he had been caught in, “going to teach Erestor to read.”

“Even if I believed that, which I do not,” added Elrond quickly, “it is impossible. You are both wasting your time – though I very much doubt you have an actual part in this, Lindir, which makes me wonder your motives.”

Lindir looked taken aback. “You doubt me?”

“Yes!” Elrond looked over his shoulder. Though they were speaking low, there was still the chance of someone listening, and he decided it was better to continue in private. “My office. Now.”

Whisking past Lindir and Glorfindel, Elrond left the library. The pair of ellon exchanged looks – apprehensiveness written across Lindir’s face, and frustration on Glorfindel’s. When Glorfindel looked away, he noted Elrohir, still standing there, watching with an intrigued expression. Crooking his finger to the adolescent, Glorfindel waited until Elrohir was standing before him, and in a voice only Elrohir and Lindir could hear, said, “No one likes a tattletale.”

The mixture of surprise, hurt, and confusion on Elrohir’s face made the youth’s bottom lip tremble, and he swiftly ran down one of the long rows of books that was still standing.

Lindir nudged Glorfindel’s shoulder, nodding to the door, and led the way down the hall and up the stairs. Elrond was not too far ahead of them, and this break from the lord of the house gave Lindir and Glorfindel a little time to silently converse to one another.

‘Are you really going to teach him to read?’ mouthed Lindir to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel nodded. ‘He wants to. He is deaf, not stupid.’

‘That is what Elrohir always said.’ Lindir’s face contorted in thought for a moment. ‘Elrond said it was not possible. Why did Erestor never tell—‘ but then Lindir suddenly understood.

‘Because no one taught him how to communicate. That is why he must learn to read. And write,’ added Glorfindel as they reached Elrond’s office.

Once the trio was inside and the door was shut, Elrond took a bottle of some sort of liquor from a cabinet and poured a glass for himself. He offered it to the others, but both elves declined. “Alright. You want to teach Erestor how to read. Why?” Before Glorfindel could speak, Elrond held up his hand. “No, I want to hear this from Lindir.”

Thankful for the few words exchanged moments earlier, Lindir said, “Glorfindel has learned that Erestor is not stupid, as we thought. He is deaf. He cannot hear a thing.” As Lindir said this, Elrond shook his head in disbelief. “I thought as you are thinking now – but Elrond, think about it. It explains so much. It explains, for one, the chess games.”

At this revelation, Glorfindel sat up a little more with interest. “What chess games?” He looked from Elrond to Lindir and back. “Erestor and I played chess last night, and he bested me. Then you tried to brush it off, but you obviously have information you are not disclosing.”

“The last time Thranduil was here,” Lindir said when it was evident Elrond was not going to talk, “he claimed that he taught Erestor how to play chess. Elrond laughed so loud I thought he was going to get a case of hiccups. Thranduil was very adamant about it, but when he tried to get Erestor to play a game in front of Elrond, he froze up and crawled under a table weeping. The king continued to, and still does, insist that Erestor can play chess, and well.”

“He beat me three times in a row,” relayed Glorfindel.

Elrond refilled his glass, and drank it dry once more. “There are no deaf elves.”

“There is at least one, and he is living in your house,” Glorfindel remarked. “And Lindir and I are going to teach him how to read, and how to write, so that someday, he can tell you himself.” Elrond remained silent, then poured himself a third drink. “You should also know, someone raped him.”

Elrond choked on his drink. “What? Here?”

“I get that distinct impression, but it will be difficult to know for sure until he can communicate with us,” said Glorfindel. “That was why he had a fear of beds- he slept in the bed last night, by the way.”

Lindir sighed and looked to Elrond. “We have been wrong about everything.”

“We thought he was rebelling,” explained Elrond before Glorfindel could ask the question. “When his parents left; we thought it was his way of fighting against us. He would pick up the mattress and throw it; he shredded his pillows into piles of feathers sometimes. When Rocheldir made the suggestion that he sleep in the library because he would fall asleep by the fire in peace, we moved what he needed there, placed in a basket beneath a chair. No one bothered him, and he calmed down. In that aspect, at least.”

“Someone did something terrible to him,” corrected Glorfindel. “Multiple times, if I am correct. That is the answer to the riddle. You have a brilliant elf who had no way of telling you any of this, and so he has suffered in silence for many a year.”

Elrond shoved the cork into the bottle. “I cannot believe that. Elves are not born deaf, and if they go deaf, they heal. Perhaps, just maybe, you are right that he was assaulted. Then again, he may just be trying to get you to coddle him. You have a soft spot for him already.”

“Go ask him, then,” implored Glorfindel. “Let us go and see him now!”

“Let us do just that.” Elrond stood up, and made his way quickly around the desk. “We will find out once and for all. If it turns out this has been a waste of my time, Lindir, I will not have you wasting any more of yours in trying to teach him anything. Glorfindel, of course, I cannot make you do anything or not do anything, but I can give you advice. And my advice is that you are wrong, and wasting your time and energy.”

Glorfindel was about to speak again, but Lindir could tell from the anger on his face that it would only make matters worse. Placing his hand on the slayer’s arm, he shook his head. Elrond had already made it to the door, and was heading down the hallway. “We had best follow him,” suggested Lindir.

Into the hall they went, fast catching up to Elrond as he marched down the hall. He stopped before the wooden door that was adorned with every sort of yellow flower that could be found in the valley, and even some made of fabric and paper, for it was evident supplies were running low. Grasping the knob, Elrond opened the door with such force that Glorfindel and Lindir could hear the splintering and cracking of wood as the table was bashed into again. This time, it would not be able to be salvaged.

Erestor was at the table, his back to the door. He was exactly where Glorfindel had left him, sorting through the tiles on the table. Sitting in a little group were the apples Elladan had brought, minus one. Erestor took another bite of the apple with a crunch, chomping on it loudly.

Several doors in the hallway opened in concern upon hearing the loud bang of the door and the subsequent destruction of the table, but Erestor remained perfectly calm, moving the tiles around with one hand and eating the apple that was held in the other.

“Erestor!” Elrond stepped into the room, and clapped his hands twice. “Erestor!”

Nothing. Not even a flinch. Erestor leaned over the table to grab an elusive tile, and bit his apple again.

“Erestor! ERESTOR!” Elrond clapped his hands, snapped his fingers, whistled.

Erestor bit into his apple again.

Desperation seeped into Elrond’s voice. “Erestor, turn around this minute! Erestor, look at me! Erestor, it is Elrond! TURN AROUND!”

Again, nothing.

Approaching Erestor, Elrond stopped right behind the young elf. “Erestor!” he shouted, but he noted that his breath caused a few errant hairs to whip from one of Erestor’s braids across his cheek. Startled, Erestor turned around, dropping his apple to the floor when he noted Elrond was so close.

Taking hold of Erestor’s chin, Elrond said in a stern, wavering voice, “Erestor, look at me.” Erestor nodded. “Erestor, can you understand me?” Erestor nodded. “Erestor... can you hear me?”

Looking down to the floor, Erestor was released from Elrond’s grasp. Sadly, he shook his head.

Shoulders slumping, Elrond turned and walked back to the door. Looking at Glorfindel and Lindir with concern, he said only, “Tell me what you need. It will be provided.”

When Elrond left, Glorfindel pulled the door back a little. The pieces of the table crumpled to the floor in a heap. “Well, at least now I understand where Elladan gets it from.”

“Dolenir, I have a message among the ones going to Mirkwood that needs to be handled with special care.” Lindir handed the leather sack to the scout. “Please be sure nothing happens to it.”

“I understand, sir. You can count on me.” The Sinda bowed his head as he took the bundled packages. “Anything else I can assist with?”

Lindir shook his head. “Thank you, that is all.” The steward waited until his office was empty before walking to the door that attached his to Elrond’s. He knocked, waited, and knocked again. Turning the knob, he frowned when he saw the room was dark and appeared to have been deserted for some time.

Closing the door, Lindir sat back down and tried to concentrate on one of his many projects, but eventually his mind wandered too many times and he took it to be a sign that he was not supposed to be working late this evening.

His path home, with the fluffy white cat trailing after him, took him past a number of closed doors, some of which he paused at. First, there was a door of some unknown couple; behind it he could hear their amorous preludes. He stood there until it was beyond seemly for him to stay any longer before moving on.

The next door to intrigue him belonged to Dolenir, one of Elrond’s most trusted scouts, and a messenger besides. Lindir had to listen a little more closely, but he could hear the continuous strings of questions being asked from a wee little voice.

“Addi, where are you going?”

“Not far away, bubu. Be good for Nanni, and I will bring back something that sparkles for you!”

“Addi, how long will you be away?”

“Not long, bubu. You will never notice I am gone.”

“Yes, I will,” pouted the little voice.

“Oh, come here. Shall I read to you?”

“Yes, Addi!”

The voices drifted away, presumably to another room. Lindir strolled on.

He heard movement coming from what was promising to become a familiar suite. Now and then a very patient voice would praise his silent student.

“Very good! That is excellent, Erestor! Now, try this one.”

Lindir noticed a clump of yellow flowers that had fallen to the ground, mostly for the fact that his cat was stalking them. Bending down, he picked them up and reattached them to the door.

“Here, hold your quill like this. Good. Very good. Wonderful, dear – yes, that is very excellent!”

Wistfully, Lindir sighed, unheard, and moved on. There were three doors that lead into Elrond’s grand suite; Lindir could hear nothing behind the first. At the second, Elrond was explaining the merits of eloquent speech.

“Furthermore, if you think before you speak now, chances are later in life you shall be prepared to speak with a practiced elegance which will awe everyone.”

A loud sigh from the other party. “Ada, I know that. I am sorry. I TOLD Elrohir I was sorry-“

“But do you mean it?”

“YES!” At this point, Elrond must have given his elder son a stern look, for the youth quieted, and answered meekly, “If Nana would stop saying things like-“

“Your Nana is not going about saying those things in public, nor is she using them as personal insults.”

“Well... what about when she says them to you?”

“That is none of your concern! I can see we are going nowhere with this – get to bed.”

“But... Ada!”

“Now!”

Lindir raised his hand, but lowered it almost immediately. He placed his palm on the door, frowning, wishing he could do something, and he felt helpless. Muffled voices a little further away caught his attention, and he walked a few paces down the hall.

“He hates me! He hates me, he hates me! And I hate him!”

“Elrohir,” came Celebrian’s comforting voice, “surely, you are mistaken. Your brother-“

“Not him!” The young elf could be heard sobbing now. “I just wanted him to... to... never mind, I hate him!”

“Oh, sweetheart...”

Lindir heard footsteps, and a door open. Elrond’s voice again.

“Celebrian. We need to talk.”

“A-alright.” A pause. “Elrohir, I will be back.”

The weeping continued, and Lindir realized that Elladan was crying himself to sleep as well. Shoulders slumped, the steward made it to his own door.

After standing outside of it for several minutes, knowing he could not sleep after all he had heard, he picked up his cat and retraced his steps. Back in his office, he relit the candles and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment.