Phhhhh-phhh-plop. Phhh-phh-phh-plop.
Erestor picked up another rock. “I wonder how long Aranel is going to refuse to talk to me.”
Phh-glub.
“I would ask her, but she stopped talking to me, too. Then again, being as she is not my wife, it makes very little difference that she is not talking to me.” Glorfindel pushed his stones over to Erestor, who had exhausted his pile early, as was becoming custom. “I think we should go to the lumberyard now, scout out what they have, eat lunch, and then go back and put in an order before we go to the masonry.”
“I thought we were going to find out about the lumber after we buy the bricks.”
“Yes, but the more I think about it, the more I think we should get the lumber first,” said Glorfindel. “Prices on bricks stay fairly steady; prices on lumber, if they know how much you need it, will jump. We buy the wood before the gossip starts, and then they might just think we are making things with it, like a bed or a dresser or something. If we buy the bricks first and someone mentions it to the woodcutters before we get the price, I know for a fact it will end up being much more expensive than it should be.”
“Good idea. You are the expert when it comes to trade and finances, Glorfindel, I will not argue with what you choose.” Erestor pulled his arm back to release another rock, but the sound of someone clearing their throat made him pause. “Good day, Laiqalasse. Care to join us?”
“Actually, I have a message for both of you from Ecthelion,” said the Sinda. “He asks you kindly stop clogging his fountain with rocks, or else he will be billing you for the damage and maintenance.”
“If he wants people to leave the fountain alone, he should put it in his house and not in the middle of the thoroughfare,” explained Glorfindel calmly. He took the stone that Erestor was holding and skipped it skillfully across the water. “And, if he does not want anyone to put rocks in it, then he should not line the bottom of it with rocks.”
Laiqalasse sighed heavily and shook his head. “It is no longer in the center of the courtyard as once it was, Glorfindel, what with the buildings that have been erected around it.” Ignoring the snicker from Erestor, Laiqalasse continued. “This area is maintained as a historical marker of the old days of Gondolin, and the Lord of the House of the Fountain would appreciate it if you would leave it alone!”
Erestor was about to answer back, but Glorfindel stretched his leg out and dug in his pocket. “Here. How much does it cost to fill it with water and pull out a few dozen rocks? Two silvers? Three?”
“I would not know the exact figures, but that is hardly the point,” said Laiqalasse quickly.
“Maybe five or six?” Glorfindel counted the money and then held it out, but Laiqalasse took a step away. “Go on. I can pay for his silly fountain to be kept in working condition if he is too cheap to do so.”
“I certainly hope the two of you decide to grow up some day.” Laiqalasse turned and began to walk back to the path that led to the House of the Fountain and of the Tree.
Glorfindel dropped the coins into the fountain, one by one. “I wish,” he said loudly, “that Ecthelion would stop sending you to give me messages and come and talk to me like he used to do, when we were friends.”
As the last coin fell into the fountain, Laiqalasse turned back around. “Perhaps you think you are being slighted, but how oft have you come to seek him out over the past months?”
Glorfindel did not answer Laiqalasse, and the Sinda went back into Ecthelion’s house. “What happened to the sweet elfling you told me about when he first came here?” questioned Glorfindel as he and Erestor stood and dusted off their pants. Erestor shrugged as they made their way to the lumberyard.
-----
Following their excursion into the marketplace and to the various crafters, Glorfindel and Erestor returned to the king’s tower for dinner with Aranel and Tauniel in the main hall. A peace offering from Erestor to Aranel of an opal necklace and matching bracelet made the meal the first civil encounter since the day she discovered her horse was pregnant. Afterwards they retired to one of the many social rooms before returning to their apartment. The ladies drifted in the direction of the ‘powder parlor’, as Elenwe’s Hall was often referred to, while the ellyn continued on to the Hall of the Harpers, where Salgant hosted nightly gatherings in order to have an audience to sing and play to. “Are you sure we will be welcomed here?” wondered Glorfindel.
Erestor nodded. “Salgant seems to have made an offering of peace, giving me the fiddle, and as of yet I have not thanked him for it properly. Going to hear him perform is a start.” They each pushed open one of the doors that led into the dark room. There were no tables set up, but there were many servers with plates of food mingling among the guests. In one corner, Salgant sat at his harp, pudgy fingers amazingly caressing the strings with such elven grace that both Glorfindel and Erestor were temporarily stunned at the door. The sound of someone clearing their throat behind them made them move further into the room.
“He is good,” commented Glorfindel. “Better than when he plays in the courtyard or the king’s hall.”
“He is very good,” Erestor agreed. He plucked two goblets of wine from one of the trays as it came past. “Not many places to sit down.”
“No... look, there is Duilin. Shall we go make friends with him again, too?” joked Glorfindel, but Erestor’s look was thoughtful. “I was kidding. Here, there is a quiet corner at the window.” The pair wandered in that direction, getting closer to Salgant and his harp. “Maybe you should have brought your fiddle.”
“That would have been rude. This is his performance.” Erestor sipped the cherry wine, and looked around. “Rog is here.”
“We should go,” said Glorfindel quickly.
Erestor shook his head. “No, he has spotted us already. It looks as if he is coming over. Besides, I have a confession to make. He asked me to meet him here tonight. I cannot avoid him forever.”
“Great.” Glorfindel took a long drink of wine, and then waited until Rog was a few feet away. “Rog, so good to see you.”
“Likewise, Glorfindel. Erestor.”
“Sir.” Erestor saluted smartly, having placed the wine on another passing tray before his father-in-law came over.
Rog made a wave of his hand. “At ease. For now. We need to talk before you go.”
“We could speak now if you like.”
“Alright.” Rog tipped his head back, finishing the whiskey in his glass. “I want you to be happy with what you are doing with your life, Erestor, since your happiness and my daughter’s happiness are directly related. However, I also want to make sure you are able to support yourself, and my daughter, and any children you might have in the future. Your leaving the army was contingent on your keeping your job with the acting company.”
“I know that.”
“Yet you spent a number of months unemployed.”
“Actually,” spoke Glorfindel, “he has been helping me with a project I have been working on.”
“Does this project offer him regular wages? An actual position?”
“It will,” defended Glorfindel.
In the corner, Salgant finished the song he was playing, and a reserved applause came from the few ladies who were in the room. He motioned a server over, but upon catching sight of Erestor and Rog conversing, he stood up and called over an apprentice to play for a little while.
“My good friends, good evening.” Salgant waddled over to them and smiled in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. Glorfindel noticed for the first time, that if Salgant ate a few less meals in the day and walked a few extra miles, under the bulged cheeks and extreme girth, he was probably quite attractive, with his dark, silky hair and soft grey eyes. The thought went right out of his head, and he resisted the urge to shudder. Had he just imagined Salgant as being attractive? Apparently so, he realized. Quickly, he concentrated on his wine, and on listening to the conversation.
Rog gave a pointed look in the direction of a group of chairs that no one was using, and the party drifted slowly to that location. Once they were seated, Rog leaned forward to regard Erestor, who had chosen to sit across from him. “We have worked out a plan, in order for you not to break the terms of your probation, and so that you might pursue your own interests as well.”
“There is a rumor that you are planning to do some building, Glorfindel, and that you are considering your own playhouse. I do not mean to question your sudden interest in the arts, and it is your prerogative to make such a decision, but I think you will find it difficult to hire many good actors as so many are already a part of established guilds.” Salgant waited to see if Glorfindel would answer, but the blond said nothing. “I will assume it is true, then. Although it is noble to help your friend,” he motioned to Erestor with his chubby hand, “you are not so blind to know that there are certain risks. Are you really willing to take those risks? How much are you willing to lose?”
“There is interest enough in another theatre, I think,” answered Glorfindel carefully.
“If that is true, then I shall reopen mine.” Salgant chuckled jovially at the expression on Glorfindel’s face. “You did not know I had one, did you?”
“But you do have one,” argued Glorfindel. “There is a concert there every other week.”
Salgant traced his fat fingers over the pattern of water lilies that was woven into the fabric of his chair. “That is my concert hall, Glorfindel. My theatre is on the other side, connected by an enclosed walkway. It may be hard to see it now with the weeds and shrubs that have grown up around it, but fear not, I will hire someone to tend to the landscaping. A fresh coat of paint, a new curtain, and it will be suitable for plays once more. I wonder how long it would take to build one up from the ground these days. Four or five years, perhaps?”
“Three to six, according to the masons.” Glorfindel drummed his fingers on the armrest. “I think I can see where this proposal is going.”
“Excellent, for I cannot. I do not honestly believe that another theatre can be sustained. There is a finite amount of playgoers in the city. But then, you must have had some clever plan, Glorfindel. Your young mind comes up with ideas the rest of us would never dream of – and sometimes, they actually work. So tell me, what was your plan?”
“My plan was to build a playhouse with reasonably priced tickets and comfortable seats, featuring entertaining plays. Obviously, Erestor was going to play a large part in the entertainment side of things, whereas I would oversee things financially,” said Glorfindel.
Rog frowned deeply. “After what happened last month at the White Fawn, I cannot believe you were seriously going to cast Erestor on stage in a lead role.”
Glorfindel bristled at the comment. “I had a way of working that out.”
“What were you going to have him do, mime?” Rog looked now at Erestor. “Erestor, you know I have great respect for you. I would never have even considered your petition for my daughter’s hand in marriage if I did not. However, this is ridiculous. What Glorfindel is saying is nonsense. You are not an actor, nor will you ever be.”
“Musicals,” shot Glorfindel before Rog could further berate Erestor. “We were going to do musical productions. Everything was going to be singing and dancing.”
“An interesting concept,” remarked Rog.
“See? I told you he had an idea of how to go about it.” Salgant rubbed his chin. “I could see reopening the theatre as the Fox Hill Musical Playhouse.”
Slumping in his chair, Glorfindel shook his head in defeat. “Well, go on then, steal the plan we had.”
“Child, I am not stealing your plan, I am modifying it. You have already admitted to the fact that it will take many years to construct a new building. Using my facilities hurries things along. Erestor could be upon stage again before the year is out.”
“There has to be a catch,” said Glorfindel, not believing Salgant was really offering something so generous.
Salgant smirked. “Not really a catch, just a contract. I will reopen the theatre and pay for the improvements and advertising. The two of you will do whatever you planned to do once you had your theatre built. I will expect sixty percent of the profits; the rest you may do with as you wish.”
“Forty percent,” bargained Glorfindel. “We will need to pay the other actors and musicians, as well as ushers and ticketers.”
“Fifty percent. The actors and musicians will be on my payroll already. You will have full access to the members of my guilds. Tickets can be handled through the main office. The ushers you will need to hire.” Salgant held out his chubby hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Glorfindel looked to Erestor for confirmation. Before he could get Erestor’s view on it, Rog spoke again. “There is another stipulation.”
“That I reinstate myself in the army,” guessed Erestor. Rog nodded. “I doubted you were here simply to help negotiate a deal between Glorfindel and Salgant.”
“If Erestor is back in the army, he will have no time to practice, and reopening the playhouse will be pointless,” argued Glorfindel.
“It would not be full time. I need you twice a week to teach hand-to-hand combat and occasional seminars on archery and torture techniques.”
Glorfindel choked on his wine. “Torture techniques?”
Erestor ignored his query. “I thought you had three archery instructors.”
“I do,” confirmed Rog. “You have a different way about it, though. Your methods are much more practical. I would rather a few of them end up with slight wounds from your lessons and not get killed on patrol than to have them follow the procedures and protocols and not make it back home alive. That is also why I think the recruits need to be exposed to your talk on torture.”
“I think you know what my answer and counteroffer is going to be,” said Erestor.
Rog nodded. “I still believe it is a battle hazard, but I am not going to force you to cut your hair if you come back. I have more need for a good teacher than an obedient soldier, in this case.”
A smile played Erestor’s lips. “Then let me offer you this. When we get the summons from King Fingon to go to war, because I will not delude myself into thinking we will not, I will be the first in line at the barber.”
“I am going to hold you to that,” warned Rog, but his manner was much warmer than it had been earlier, and he and Erestor shook hands.
“Well?” Salgant thrust his hand out to Glorfindel again. “Do we have a deal, then?”
“Aye.” Glorfindel grasped Salgant’s hand. “Shall we meet tomorrow to discuss details?”
“If you like. Perhaps we should luncheon together after the council meeting. I will make arrangements for food to be brought here. You are both welcome to join us, of course,” said Salgant to Erestor and Rog. Salgant’s nose wrinkled as he looked past Rog. “There are days when I begin to wonder if I should make this room invitation only.”
Glorfindel looked over his shoulder to see what had turned Salgant’s stomach. Standing in the doorway was Enerdhil, the master jeweler. There was an ellon beside him, his arms around the tall, muscular elf’s waist, but Glorfindel could not make out who it was.
“Ever since Fingon made his little changes to the rules, I have seen things I never hoped to.” Salgant pulled a cloth from his pocket and dabbed his forehead with it. “Did you know, Egalmoth thought I was one of them?” He nodded toward the door. “Now we get to watch Enerdhil and his nightly display. I certainly hope Gildor will go back to Doriath sometime in the near future.”
Having apparently heard his name, Gildor separated himself from Enerdhil and sauntered over to the group. “Good evening, m’lords.” Gildor came up to stand behind Glorfindel’s chair and placed his hand upon the blond’s shoulder. “We were hoping to hear you play, Salgant. It disappoints me to see you at rest instead of at your harp.”
Glorfindel shrugged off Gildor’s hand and Salgant gave Gildor a cold look. “Am I not entitled to rest as well?”
Gildor’s mouth drew into a fine line and he tilted his head a little. “If you like.” He gazed down at Glorfindel. “It would seem I am not so very welcome here, but perhaps you and I might speak in private, Glorfindel.”
“I think I should be going.” Glorfindel stood up, but when he turned to Gildor, he surprised him by saying, “I will have to decline your offer, Lord Gildor. My wife is no doubt anticipating my arrival to bed.”
“Oh. Well. Good night, then.” The dumbfounded Noldo wandered back to Enerdhil and clung to the jewelsmith while Glorfindel’s other companions stood up as well.
“Indeed, we should retire for the evening,” said Erestor. “Until tomorrow,” he said to Rog and Salgant, bowing slightly to each of them.
Salgant made a motion to the door with his hand. “I will accompany you to the hallway.” Rog gave an acknowledgement to Erestor’s obeisance before mingling into the crowd again.
At the doorway, Salgant shot another look of distaste at Enerdhil and the messenger following on his heels. “We all knew someone in the council was, but I never imagined it to be Enerdhil.” Salgant’s clear eyes met Glorfindel’s. “Truth be told, I always thought it was you. For that, I apologize. I owe the same to Egalmoth, now that I know the truth. I suppose we shall simply have to live with it now. Good evening.”
After offering their farewells and making it a fair distance from Salgant’s sanctuary, Erestor turned to Glorfindel. “Things are going to be different some day. They are going to change slowly, but they will change.”
“I know,” said Glorfindel, trying to sound positive, but his expression was too easily readable.
