Salgant's pudgy fingers rested upon his expansive belly, where he drummed them as he surveyed the scene before him. One of the stable-hands who belonged to his house had chanced to stop by the hall he had been performing in and mentioned in passing that the tall, gangly scribe who had arrived from Doriath was making an attempt to ride a horse. Of all horses, Salgant had not expected to see the wiry elf perched atop the chief Captain's mount.
With an amused look seen only by a few of the elves tending to the horses in the pasture, Salgant took himself over to where Erestor sat on Lord Winnykins and Lord Winnykins stood grazing. "Splendid day for a ride," he announced in a low, harmonical voice. The sound practically scared Erestor off the horse, but he managed to hold on.
"Yes, it would seem that way," Erestor answered unsurely.
Giving Lord Winnykins a pat on the neck, the horse looked up, and seeing who it was began to nuzzle the rotund elf in search of sweets. Salgant pulled a piece of pressed sugar from his pocket and held it out for the horse to daintily take from him. "Looks as if she is all set to go," remarked Salgant as he circled around to Lord Winnykin's hindquarters.
"Y-yes, she is," replied Erestor. He had his feet in the stirrups, but they had been adjusted much too high for his long legs, so his knees were bent too far for comfort. As Salgant continued to walk to the other side of the horse, Erestor wiped his sweaty hands on his leggings. With a grin, Salgant paused, having hoped that the scribe would take his hands from the pommel.
"Well, do not let me keep you, then," he said, and gave the horse's rear a hearty smack with his hand. Lord Winnykins lurched forward, galloping much faster than Nahar ever had, with Erestor clinging for dear life around the horse's neck.
Ecthelion and Glorfindel caught up with Salgant's chuckles as they raced down the hill to the pasture. "Now, why did you have to go and do that?" scolded Ecthelion. He had expected to find one of the stable-hands laughing at the gate, but seeing the large figure of Salgant, Ecthelion had growled to himself in fury. He could not punish the head of another house, for that was up to the king to decide, and he would not put forth a charge so petty.
"Oh, it is only the same as when you have a small child you wish to teach to swim. Just fling him into the middle of the pond and watch him so he does not drown. Instinct will kick in," reasoned Salgant, wiping a tear from his eye as he took note of Lord Winnykins leaping over the barrier of the field with Erestor scrambling to hold on.
Glorfindel had run past Salgant and into the stables, and emerged now on his own mount, riding her without a saddle. He glared back at Salgant as his horse, a more buttery color than Ecthelion's, sped toward the gate.
"Goodness me, can that one never take a joke?" Salgant pulled a cloth of fine linen from his pocket and wiped his brow. "How stern he is, for one so young."
"Young, but a lord of this realm, I remind you," warned Ecthelion. "I would not seek to upset him if I were you, Salgant."
"Phah. He would not do a thing, he knows it was meant in jest," countered Salgant.
"He is not one of us, Salgant," said Ecthelion, and his parting words were, "He is a rogue, and you should not put so much trust in him. Even I am wary to trust him fully."
---
Meanwhile, Erestor had managed to avoid a number of low tree branches, but not the long spindly ones that scraped against his arms, scratching him through his shirt. He could feel the sting on his neck and face where the branches had nicked him. With his arms around the horse's neck, he had tried practically every command he could think to yell to make the horse stop. As they came to a clearing, Erestor opened his eyes and saw before them the fishing pond, coming closer and closer. Too close, in fact.
"Whoa!" His unintentional shout of distress came as they seemed to be headed right for the pond. Without a moment's hesitation, the horse came to a halt, sending Erestor tumbling off and into the icy water.
Sitting up and pushing back the stray hairs from his eyes, Erestor had landed only a few feet from shore, but in one of the muckiest parts of the pond. He was sitting in slime with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms around his legs when Glorfindel emerged from the game forest.
Glorfindel's first reaction was to warn Erestor that it had been dangerous to have mounted and attempted to ride without him, but when Erestor looked up with his large eyes apologetic and his cheeks red in shame and frustration, Glorfindel smiled weakly and dismounted. With a spiteful look to Lord Winnykins, he slapped the horse much as Salgant had. "Go home, Winny," he directed, and without fussing the horse trotted off into the forest again. "Are you hurt?"
"Just cold. And very damp," answered Erestor as Glorfindel helped him up. He wrung the water from his hair and shivered as the wind blew through the trees to where they stood.
Removing his cloak, Glorfindel draped it over his horse's back and then motioned to Erestor. "Take off your shirt, it is soaked. You can wrap up in my cloak and we can ride back."
Doing as Glorfindel instructed, Erestor asked, "How? You sent Ecthelion's horse to the stables."
"Aye. We can ride on mine, you in front of me. I promise you will not fall off or into a lake," he said.
"What is her name?" asked Erestor.
Glorfindel took the dripping shirt from Erestor and walked with it back to the pond. "She is Buttercup. All of the horses in my team are named after yellow flowers. A bit of a tradition." He wrung out the shirt and then stepped back to the horse...
...and Erestor, who was crooning to his horse as he had to Ecthelion's. Only the image was a little different. Standing in the fading sunlight, shadows playing off his skin, Erestor looked so much more natural than he had in the stable- and so much more beautiful. Glorfindel didn't know where the hell that thought came from, but another soon followed as he watched errant drops of water glide down Erestor's hair and slide across his skin.
Most would agree that Erestor was indeed a beautiful elf- pretty, perhaps even. This was not simply an admiration of a glorious specimin of Eru's creation, this was a desirous longing that crept upon Glorfindel. Yet, he walked to the horse with nothing but a friendly smile upon his face, for his reaction to ellyn whom he found attractive was nothing less than a crime, and here in Gondolin it was one punishable by death.
"Here, but do not put it on," he said, handing the shirt in Erestor's direction. Erestor gave Buttercup a final pat before taking the shirt. Glorfindel placed his cloak around Erestor's shoulders and then made a sort of whistling sound through his teeth. Immediately his horse sank down to her knees, giving Erestor an easy way of mounting her.
"I did not mean to ruin our first lesson," apologized Erestor as Glorfindel directed Buttercup to stand again, but the blond waved it off.
"Just a moment, I will be right back," he said, and walked the few steps to the edge of the water. Kneeling down, he dipped his hand in and lifted the water to his lips, already and unknowingly to anyone else plotting his revenge against Salgant.
He took a look over his shoulder, to see Erestor patting Buttercup. The cloak had slipped down from one shoulder, baring once more the pale flesh for Glorfindel to see. His lips were unconsciously licked, and he turned away, hoping Erestor had not seen.
Ecthelion had told Glorfindel that Erestor's heart had been broken by an elleth long years ago, but would say no more on this. It was best to put the idea out of his mind before it even formed. Slowly he returned to the horse, again giving Erestor a friendly smile, which was finally returned. Glorfindel flexed his fingers to keep his hands from shaking in hope beyond hope before mounting behind Erestor.
