Erestor was directed up to the sixth level of Salgant’s house. When he arrived at the doors to the stargazing room, he was warmly greeted by Laiqalasse. He looked over the top of the young elf’s head questioningly at Duilin and Faelion, but Laiqalasse answered his unspoken query with, “I ran into Faelion in the marketplace. I promised not to make any attempts at converting anyone tonight. I can always save their souls tomorrow.”
“I need some help with this,” called out Faelion, who was attempting to pull a couch away from the wall on his own. Erestor set the case containing his fiddle at the doorway and hurried over to grab the other end of the sofa. “Thanks,” said Faelion after they positioned it where he wished for it to be.
“Just what are you doing?” questioned Duilin as he watched Faelion and Erestor move another couch across the room.
Faelion picked up an end table and walked to toward the windows. “I thought we could split off the room. We can sit up front by the door while we drink and eat, and then we can sit at the windows afterwards.” Faelion was reorganizing the lounge chairs in a semicircle facing the windows. Some of the other furniture was arranging in small groupings, while other items were being taken into the hallway. “The room is so crowded for so few of us otherwise,” he explained when Duilin watched him haul a table out of the room.
Once the room was set up the way Faelion wished it to be, Duilin set to lighting the candles on the tables. The sun was setting, and for a little while the four sat watching the glow of the sky change colors through the scenic windows. As the sky and clouds began to fade and stars twinkled above, Faelion asked, “What shall we do while we wait for the others to arrive?”
“Laiqalasse and I are going to go to the wine cellar and pillage Salgant’s vintages,” said Duilin. “The two of you are going to stay here and practice your lines.”
“I know my lines,” announced Erestor. “All of them. I know most of his, too,” he added, nodding toward Faelion.
“As do I,” Faelion said.
“Good. Then you can practice that other thing we discussed today,” said Duilin with a wink as he and Laiqalasse left the room.
---
After assuring Mirdirin that he would be fine if left alone, Glorfindel spent a little time roaming the gardens. He was not looking forward to the climb up the tower. Eventually, when he got tired of swatting mosquitoes, he walked back to the tower and ran into Ecthelion along the way.
“Glorfindel! I have been searching for you! Salgant has called a meeting at his home. It sounds very important,” said Ecthelion. His overly serious voice made Glorfindel slightly suspicious. The fact that Ecthelion had two saddled horses walking behind him was strange as well.
“You should be able to find Mirdirin,” Glorfindel replied. “He only just left.”
“Until he appears before the King, Mirdirin is not in charge of your army. Besides, you shall still remain lord of your house. The point is, Salgant has requested your presence and mine. Come; he is waiting,” said Ecthelion. He placed the ends of the reins to one of the horses into Glorfindel’s hands, and then mounted the other horse.
“Alright. There is no need to rush. l am coming.” Glorfindel hoisted himself up onto the back of the other stallion. Ecthelion had already coaxed his steed into a trot, and Glorfindel caught up as fast as he was able. The path was fairly clear for them as they rode along. Suddenly, Glorfindel turned to Ecthelion and asked, “When did you speak to Salgant?”
“Only just a little while ago,” answered Ecthelion.
Glorfindel stared down the path ahead. “At his house?”
“Aye.”
A tug on the reins caused the horse Glorfindel was riding to stop abruptly. He waited until Ecthelion stopped and turned his horse around before he spoke. “Salgant just had dinner with Mirdirin and I. You want me to believe that Salgant made it home, summoned you, met with you, and sent you back?”
Ecthelion rubbed his jaw and looked to be contemplating this.
“I may be slow and injured, but I can still beat Salgant in a foot race,” said Glorfindel. “You are bullshitting me. There is no meeting.”
“No, there really is a meeting,” argued Ecthelion. “Why would I drag you over there at this hour if there was not? I did not say I went over there. He sent a messenger.”
Glorfindel blinked. “You just said he was at his house. How would you know if you had not gone there?”
“He is at his -- that is what the messenger told me,” said Glorfindel.
“Then why did you not go and leave the messenger to take me?”
“Because I have the horses.”
Glorfindel stretched a kink out of his back. “I could have used the messenger’s horse, and he could have walked back.”
“The messenger did not have one,” said Ecthelion quickly.
“The messenger walked the entire way, and then back again?” Glorfindel rolled his eyes. “Ecthelion, you are a terrible liar.”
“I am not lying,” stated Ecthelion with conviction.
Slowly, Glorfindel brought the horse he was on back to where Ecthelion still was. “Let us pretend for a moment I believe you.” Glorfindel folded his hands in his lap. “What was the name of the messenger?”
Ecthelion’s lips moved slightly, but he did not say anything until he asked, “What?”
“The name of the messenger. What was it?”
“Uh... he did not give me his name.”
Glorfindel glared. “All messengers are required to state their name and house before they give a message.” He tugged the reins toward the tower. “I am going home.”
“Wait, Glorfindel,” said Ecthelion, but Glorfindel had already brought the horse to a gallop.
Glorfindel did not look over his shoulder, and upon reaching the tower, immediately dismounted. He tied the horse to a post before entering the tower and heading right for the stairs. Ecthelion was known for his practical jokes, though Glorfindel never expected that he would be an attempted victim. The anger he felt propelled him forward and up the steps faster than he had been navigating them lately.
When he reached the door to the apartment, he already had the key ready. The door was quickly opened and closed upon his entry. What he saw before him made the key drop to the floor.
“Does no one knock?!”
“What are you doing here?!”
Glorfindel stared into the sitting room, his eyes wide. The room looked nothing like what he normally saw it as. There were large pieces of plush fabrics draped over the messy desk and the tall bookshelf and a number of other objects. The couch cushions and pillows were puddled on the floor with Tauniel and Aranel in the midst of them, entangled in a very compromising position with hands roaming and tongues buried deep into places Glorfindel would never dream to stick his own. “I live here,” he said dumbly as the pair before him scrambled to cover each other with a blanket.
Once Aranel managed to cover herself to her satisfaction she exclaimed, “Erestor said you were going to be out all night!”
Glorfindel carefully stepped into the room, but further from them. “I have... no words for this...”
“Sorry, darling. We never expected you to show up,” apologized Tauniel. She looked away when she saw the slightly hurt expression on Glorfindel’s face. “I know you were trying to make this thing between us work somehow, but... Glorfindel, you know where my heart belongs.”
“I know.” Glorfindel pursed his lips. “It was nice while it lasted – and to be honest, I mean... Faelion...” Glorfindel shrugged, knowing no other explanation was needed. Tauniel nodded. “However, I do believe I am scarred from this experience.”
“Oh, you hardly saw anything,” retorted Tauniel gently as she pulled a pillow onto her lap.
“A thousand nightmares will come from this,” he declared dramatically.
“Why are you here?” Aranel had managed to wrap the blanket so completely around herself that part of it flopped over her head like a hood. Her humiliation was plainly displayed upon her cheeks.
“I live here.” Glorfindel went first to one bedroom, and then to the other. He returned with a robe for each of them and then took a seat in one of the chairs. “I do not know. Ecthelion was acting strangely. If either of you know what is going on, I would appreciate knowing. Obviously, you expected me to be gone for the evening.”
“Erestor said something about a party,” answered Aranel from beneath her cloak.
Tauniel sighed. “Aranel, that was a secret.”
“Well, I was not about to lie to him.” Aranel pushed the cloth back from her head slightly and said, “Erestor said there was a plan to get you there and expected you would be out for the night. It was something Salgant planned for you.”
“Really?” Glorfindel sighed. “I just left Ecthelion out there after calling him a liar. I probably hurt his feelings.”
“Maybe it is not too late? You could still try to get there,” suggested Tauniel.
“They probably called it off.”
“Only one way to find out,” coaxed Tauniel.
“I suppose they went through trouble for me...”
“You should go.” Tauniel grinned. “And not just because we want to have sex while you are gone.”
“Should you really be doing that?” wondered Glorfindel.
“Why not?” asked Aranel.
“Just consider your condition,” Glorfindel warned.
Aranel rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. We will be fine.”
“My concern was more for the babies,” admitted Glorfindel. He turned around to give them privacy enough to put on their robes.
Aranel tapped him on the shoulder when they were done. “They will be fine as well.”
“Let me help you find something to get dressed in,” offered Tauniel. She looped her arm into Glorfindel’s and led him to the bedroom. “Oh, by the way,” she said as they walked, “no more oil in your hair. I had to throw the pillowcase away, and the pillow has an unsightly stain upon it.”
“Sorry. It was an experiment.” When they were inside the room, he asked in a low voice, “Are you sure that sort of activity will not hurt her?”
Tauniel pulled open a drawer and sorter through the shirts in it. “Who, Aranel?” She plucked a blue shirt out and held it up to Glorfindel.
“No, the baby,” said Glorfindel as he took off the shirt he was wearing and put on the one she had given him. Tauniel frowned and motioned for him to take it off as she looked for a different one.
A purple shirt that Glorfindel did not wear often was handed to him. He inspected a loose thread on one sleeve as Tauniel said, “He is fine.”
“He?” Glorfindel looked up, the imperfection of the garment forgotten. “Are you sure?” he asked with a grin.
“Boy, girl, boy,” she replied, pointing once to Glorfindel, once to herself, and once to her still flat stomach happily.
---
It so happened that Ecthelion was still waiting outside the tower when Glorfindel exited a little while later. They sized each other up, considered saying something, and decided against it. Glorfindel untied the horse from the post and remounted it. “Come on,” he said simply, and he missed the smirk on Ecthelion’s face as they galloped off to make up time.
They arrived at Salgant’s house at nearly the same time as Mirdirin did. “So. You are in on it, too,” said Glorfindel accusingly as the trio walked to the door. Mirdirin sheepishly shrugged.
They entered and were directed by the butler to go up to the sixth floor. Glorfindel groaned at the idea of more stairs, but headed for the steps immediately.
“Are those our guests?” Salgant waddled out into the room, licking his fingers of chocolate frosting as he went. Ever since the end of the midsummer games when he had trained to be in the boxing competition, Salgant had regained the weight he had shed and put on even more. “Come with me – I have need of you in the kitchen. There is food to be carried up. Not you, Glorfindel, you head up there. By now, you may have guessed—“
“I know what is going on,” he called down as he continued to climb the stairs.
“Alright, which of you let the cat out of the bag?” he heard Salgant question as they went back toward the kitchen.
Glorfindel took a short rest at every landing. By the fourth floor, he was seriously rethinking his decision to come. By the sixth landing, he was just happy to be done with stairs for the evening. He wiped the back of his hand against his forehead and then rubbed the back of his neck. His lack of hair was helpful in this regard.
Having been in Salgant’s house many times before, Glorfindel knew exactly which room they would be gathering in. He tiredly walked down the hall and pushed the doors open. For the second time that evening, the scene he walked in upon made his jaw drop.
