Waterfalls and Wine Bottles by Zhie
Summary: A trio of elder eldar decide to take it upon themselves to talk sense into a youngling. LOTRO-verse
Categories: Stories of Arda > Haven - The LOTRO Files Characters: Bainith, Erestor, Glorfindel, Valanyonnen
Awards: None
Challenge: None
Genre: Dramatic, Romantic
Special Collection: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 3 Completed: Yes Word count: 3088 Read: 12568 Published: June 03 2011 Updated: June 03 2011

1. Chapter 1 by Zhie

2. Chapter 2 by Zhie

3. Chapter 3 by Zhie

Chapter 1 by Zhie
"Have you considered only taking on one apprentice at a time?" The question was posed by the blond who was lounging on the settee, a glass of wine in one hand, and one of a mountainous pile of letters in the other. He had moved the furniture close to the fireplace so that he only had to make two piles -- one to respond to personally, and another to have an aide address. The rest, such as this one, were destined to be filed in the flames.

Zhie might have narrowed her eyes or spat back a nasty comment had it been anyone else. Instead she sighed and watched as he tossed the stack of paper past the grating that kept the occasional cat that wandered in from stepping too close to the warmth. "At one point in my career, I was minding four very quick-witted lads at the same time."

"You were also much younger then," Erestor reminded her. "We both were," he added, chuckling as she gave him that 'age has nothing to do with it' look. "There is a great difference between teaching children the basics -- pretentious children though they were -- and teaching young ladies and gentlemen," he said in regards to the seven boys that they both had a hand in tutoring in the years before the wrath of Morgoth brought them both across the sea. "Perhaps that should not even be so difficult, but you are trying to teach both of them how to be Elves, and each is from a different background. On top of that, rune-keepers are so rare.. it is not the sort of thing where one just decides upon that vocation. One does not choose such a thing like a young soldier chooses a bow over a sword."

"I know," interrupted Zhie. "They are both extremely talented. Perhaps I should have turned them over to one of the rune-keeper trainers, but it is not often that one sees such innocence in this age. I want them to grow and experience things, without losing that quality."

"So that is why you were so upset when that fellow winked at Culgondrian when you went to see Elladan, and why you acted as you did when he followed both of you to Rivendell and said those fine, amorous words about her," mused Glorfindel as another letter was thrown from his hand, destined to become ashes.

Zhie said nothing to this, but Erestor burst out laughing, almost choking on the smoke of the pipe he had recently lit. "You are worried about Culgondrian? The woman has come of age at least three-fold now, has she not? Still in the flower of youth, but certainly not a child for all her wonder and childlike quality. The one you should be worried about is Bainith."

"I do not worry about Bainith because there is little chance he is going to wander home some day and make me a grandmother," warned Zhie.

"Ah, well, and I suppose the minstrel he has been seen with has been granted your approval."

"Culgondrian is different," stated Zhie firmly, avoiding discussion on the younger of her apprentices. "I fear someone would take advantage of her, or break her heart, or worse."

Another letter met its doom, and Glorfindel looked up with furrowed brow. "Correct me if I am wrong, but did you not once tell me that Bainith had dealt recently with a similar situation? Is that why you have such concerns for Culgondrian now?"

"I hate it when you analyze me," she mumbled, refilling her glass of wine. Erestor chuckled again, and held out his half-empty glass to be refreshed.

Glorfindel sat up now, and held his glass closer so that the remaining wine could be distributed to him. "It is good that you have such concern about them." He paused, as if thinking over his response carefully, then said, "Would you like me to talk to him? I know you are doing a very good job with Culgondrian - despite some of the awkward things she has said to me--"

"You do stand too close to that waterfall for modesty," remarked Erestor with a smirk.

The blond cleared his throat and began again. "I only wondered if perhaps I could offer some advice to him. From what you have told me, he seems uncertain about many things. Perhaps I can offer words of clarity. I do not want to step on toes, though."

"I think that might be helpful. You just have a way with people that others do not," said Zhie.

Glorfindel smiled. "Good. Besides, I was starting to feel a little left out after the stunt the two of you pulled with the scholar guild the other day."

Erestor winked. "I have no idea what you are talking about..."
Chapter 2 by Zhie
Bright, crisp sunlight streamed into the room, chasing the shadows from the corners of the room. Bainith's eyes fluttered open, and he sighed as bits and pieces of the events of the previous days came flickering back into his mind. He turned his head to the side, and was startled to see someone he did not recognize sitting beside him.

"Good afternoon." The figure in the chair was obviously a warrior from his build, though he wore loose robes of white and gold, and carried with him no heavy armor or shield. He did have with him a sword, which he was polishing as he spoke. "I came here to visit my horse at the stables, and often I come to these rooms to sit and think. I hope you do not mind -- you were sleeping and the other rooms were full."

Bainith shook his head and said nothing. He looked around, eyes falling upon the sword in the other elf's hands.

Noticing Bainith's gaze, the elf held the sword up a bit for Bainith to see it better. "A blade forged by Celebrimbor's folk. The hilt was made by that master craftsman himself." It was intricate and beautiful, inlaid with gold and set with golden beryls, and yet held in the right hands would be a deadly weapon. "Not quite as fancy as the sword I used in Gondolin, but it cuts just as deep," said the elf as if reading Bainith's very thoughts. "I do not believe we have met. I am Glorfindel, refugee of Gondolin, Captain of Imladris."

If anything could make Bainith feel more insignificant, it was the simplicity of the words from this great and renowned elf-lord humbled Bainith greatly, and he barely managed to speak. "My name is Bainith Proudfoot, m'lord."

"I know. Your mentor has spoken of you."

Uncertain of how to respond, Bainith let his gaze fall back upon the weapon once again. "I have never seen the weapons of Gondolin, but I can say that your sword is the most beautiful I have seen."

Glorfindel smiled gently, and Bainith wondered how much of a fool he sounded. It was obvious that the weapon was as legendary as the elf who held it, and Bainith feared that his awkward words made him sound as young as he was. He was grateful that the subject was changed. "I was told that you are training to become a rune-keeper." Bainith nodded to this. "Quite a thrill it must be, to feel the energy of the sky and earth project through you," said Glorfindel.

"It is... still amazing to me every time I use that power to heal, or, to kill," admitted Bainith.

"I imagine so." Glorfindel set the sword down to rest on the floor before he sat up and leaned in a bit towards the bed. "May I see your hands?"

Bainith withdrew the right from beneath the covers and slowly held it aloft, his palm facing the elf-lord.

"Both of them, please." Glorfindel held out his hands, loosely cupped, and Bainith trembled slightly as he set his hands atop Glorfindel's. The calloused hands of the warrior began to examine the smaller, softer fingers, the blisters that had formed on the pads from too much heat, the tiny cuts at the corners of his nails or at the bend of a knuckle from exertion. "There is so much strength," he said softly. "Much remains unharnessed. You have yet to be broken in." Glorfindel took hold of just the right, scrutinizing a scar that ran half the width that Bainith had a tendency to pick at, keeping it from properly healing. "I heard that you partook in the Dwarven Anniversary event. Those brawls are infamous and brutal. If you enjoy such physical activities, perhaps you would wish to come to the Spire of Meeting later. There are daily boxing matches in the early evening. I am sure there are some who would spar against you."

"I actually disliked that game," whispered Bainith, more to himself than to his guest.

"Really?" Glorfindel took up the other hand, finding an open wound on the back of the youth's thumb. The skin was dry and cracked, and the warrior made a note to make one of Elrond's apprentices aware of Bainith's condition. "Strange, I dislike cabbage, so I make a point not to eat it. It puzzles me that you would purposely go to such a place if you do not like it."

With little restraint, the truth tumbled forth, all of it. "There were friends of mine who were there, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I am not so weak. It started because the true love of the person I was...briefly with... they decided to go there and won many rounds and sent to me the robes that Yucca... a friend from the Shire, my best friend from childhood, you see... they were the robes she wants me to wear for her wedding. So then, I went a few times to prove that I could win that game too, though I hated it, and it was the only way I could get my horse -- I race horses well, but they told me I would not receive the horse on racing alone despite winning five races all in a row. Then I was injured, and it seemed I would not get my horse, but Eledu -- he is the one who sent the robes -- he went and pretended to be me and then had the horse sent to me. Well, I had to prove it that I could have done it myself, I just had to-- I am so sure he does it to mock me, and, well, I just want people to like me."

Bainith took a deep breath and looked ready to continue, but Glorfindel let go of the hand he was examining so he could rest a hand upon Bainith's shoulder. "I can tell you, from vast years of experience, having many, many people like you is nothing compared to having a few people love you."

The rune-keeper closed his mouth soundlessly and stared down at his hands, his eyes flooding with tears.

Glorfindel set his hands upon Bainith's and bowed his head slightly to try to catch a glimmer of Bainith's gaze. "There are people in this world who care deeply about you... like your friend Yucca, and your mentor, your family and your friend Culgondrian... people who love you, like... Valanyonnen..." Glorfindel paused as this name made Bainith look up, surprised his secret was so known, blushing, nervous, so happy to hear the name spoken. The expression did not go unnoticed. "They worry about you, just as you worry about, care about, and love them. I know from what Zhie has told me that you are sadly acquainted with the terrible ache of a broken heart. Can you imagine what you must be doing to those who love you?"

Bainith no longer attempted to look away, his tears free-flowing as Glorfindel left him with these parting words: "You are going to do great things with these hands -- I hope." Then the elf-lord retrieved his sword, stood, and left the room. As he did, Bainith saw him nod to someone who had remained unseen in the shadows by the door, revealed now as he came forward, harp tucked under one arm.

With trembling jaw, Bainith hiccuped an attempted apology. "I-- I am-- so---so sorry-- I--"

"Shhh..." A kiss was placed upon his brow as his tears were wiped away, then gently Bainith was coaxed to lie back down in bed to rest. "We can talk later. Rest now." Another kiss was placed upon the crown of his head, then the blankets were brought up and tucked in around him.

As Bainith turned onto his side, the harper sat down upon the empty side of the bed and strummed a chord. It was full of comfort, and Bainith allowed his eyes to close as he sniffled and wiped his nose. A few scales, played up and down, warmed the strings for the minstrel before he closed his own eyes to play a practiced song of healing, radiant yet soothing. Bainith drifted to sleep, peaceful dreams uninterrupted by nightmares, as the masterful music filled the room.
Chapter 3 by Zhie
"So what do I owe you?"

"At least two bottles of wine and a cheesecake. From the Shire, not from the kitchens here," warned Glorfindel as he followed Zhie into her office. "A nice, fluffy cheesecake. Make it two cheesecakes, and a bottle of wine," he decided as he perched on the corner of her desk.

"Done," declared Zhie as she sat down in her chair. It was that moment that someone else came around the doorway, arms crossed, looking slightly amused.

"If you had to bribe him, the least you could do was offer something to me."

"What you want offered is typically unacceptable for the work environment," stated Glorfindel.

Erestor gave an elegant shrug of one shoulder, and smirked. "I find it interesting that the great hero of Gondolin needs to be persuaded with cheesecake and wine in order to--"

"Oh, Erestor. You think I was really going to spoil him without bringing something back for you as well?" Zhie shook her head at the Noldo in the doorway. "I thought you liked an occassional surprise."

"Not particularly," he reminded her.

"Hmm? Oh... must be Elrond, then. The point is--"

"Wait, did you just confuse something about Elrond with me?" Erestor gave a mock look of shock as Zhie rolled her eyes at his dramatics and began to set out the ink and paper she would need to write out writs. "Frankly, I think I should feel insulted."

"Feel whatever you like, dear, but I had no intention of not thanking you properly for assisting me with Bainith." She looked up to see Erestor waggle his brows, and added, "With a nice present that can be gift-wrapped." He grinned lasciviously. "And fits into a bottle," she added pointedly to both of them, for Glorfindel was chuckling now as well.

"It always starts with just a bottle of wine..." he said in a sing-song voice as he left the office.

"Pervert," she said under her breath after he'd gone, but a moment later he and his acute Elven hearing were back.

"Takes one to know one," he said cheekily as he peeked around the corner, then left again.

Glorfindel had been picking up various items from the desk to examine them, but now focused on Zhie. "So, speaking of apprentices... I suspect from the way you and Erestor have avoided discussing your plans for the next month, that your intention is to be in Moria very soon."

"Could be..." She glanced up from her writing slowly, pausing when she saw the worried look. "I am too old, mean, and cranky not to return."

"That is what Balin said," he reminded her. "Do me a favor, now?"

Not used to hearing her former Lord so serious, she set down her quill and looked up to listen.

"Leave Ress and Mitzi and those other ravens that follow you here. I am sure I can take care of them-"

"They are not pets-"

"-and take a bear or a wolf-"

"-I do not trust wolves-"

"-and use the map, because so help me-"

"-I like making my own maps, thank you-"

"-I know where the Halls of Mandos are, and I will come and find you, and it will not be for a holiday."

Zhie folded her arms over her chest, sulking. "I am taking the blood-raven."

"And a bear."

"And a lynx. No bears. Firstly, they are too dense, if what I hear of the ruined areas is true. Secondly, Bandoras fears them, and I will not jeopardize anything by running into his there and having him fall off a cliff because Aigloss was with me."

"From what you have said, he may well fall off a cliff anyhow," recalled Glorfindel.

Zhie nodded. "I just do not want to be the one held responsible."

"And write. I want letters."

"If you want letters, then I need Mitzi with me. She is the only one who can fly them back."

"Fine. But the other birds stay here." He looked uncertain about adding the next thing, but after several minutes of watching Zhie return to her writing, he added, "If you should encounter flame and shadow, do not regret leaving it be."

She paused again and scrutinized him. "That seems odd, coming from you."

"I mean no offense, I know that you have trained against many foes, I know you like to kill the undead and have a special passion for slaying giants and trolls, but the bane of Gondolin is different," he said solemnly. "If you encounter one, it will kill you."

The loremistress attempted to mask her unease with a light shrug. "If it will make you feel better, I will try to avoid them. If there are any -- the rumors--"

"Are probably true," he cut in. "So be careful."

She considered this, chin resting on her hand. "You would prefer I not go to Moria."

"No," he said after a short pause. "I know if you do not go there, you would go back to Evendim. No matter where you travel, there is danger. I know how much it means to you, to atone for sins of ages past, but do not attempt my foolish solution."

"No intentional balrog fighting. I would swear an oath on that, but look where the last one got me," she said, trying with a smile to lighten the mood.


-END-
This story archived at http://www.littlebalrog.com/zhie/phoenix/viewstory.php?sid=337