"What is all this?" demanded Erestor, finding a number of large wooden trunks and a few smaller packages piled in the center of his chambers. Though he normally didn't keep his doors locked, feeling quite safe in Gondolin, he still found is disturbing to think others would come in and out of his room without his permission. His temper eased a little when he noted Ecthelion and Glorfindel sitting in two of the three chairs by the window, sharing a bottle of wine.
Each of them regarded him with a nod and a raise of their glass. Pushing the door shut, he greeted them with a smile and a nod, loosening his collar as he walked to the bed that was situated to the immediate left of the door, knowing he would be expected to drink with them and discuss some matter or another. If they wished conversation of a less serious nature, they took themselves to the soldiers' rest hall, where ale flowed fast and maidens from respectable houses did not enter. This evening they had chosen Erestor's balcony, so this evening was for peace, reflection, and discussion between three noble lords of Gondolin.
There was something strange about the way they would sit and drink, Erestor had always thought. The pair was never dressed in anything less than the finest that was to be offered, even when the days were hot or the patrols long and uneventful. Even when they relaxed, even now, here, where no one but Erestor would have discovered them, he found them in full dress with not a stain of grass nor dirt upon breaches or jerkins, shirts perfect, boots symmetrically laced, and so on.
Never one for the rich clothing of his class, Erestor favored darker garments, and those that did not accentuate a thing. Not because he disliked his appearance, but because he did not think it proper for eyes to rove over him as they did with these two, the guardians of the splendid gates. In the privacy of his rooms, however, Erestor did not need to think twice about removing his heavy burgundy robes and tossing them onto the bed. He eyed up his two grinning companions as he sunk down onto the mattress of the bed, pulling off his boots and stockings, and then his shirt.
Barefoot, he padded across the room and joined them, pulling a goblet from the shelf of the private bar as he passed it. He held out the glass by the stem and it was filled almost instantly. Erestor sipped the drink ever so carefully, as it was not usually his want to partake of such pleasures, for he found himself rather willing to agree to the random acts of silliness suggested by Ecthelion while influenced by the wine. Closely, he watched the reactions of the two elves sitting with him. He didn't need to wait long for his question to be answered, in the only manner these rogues in lord's clothing knew how.
"Oh, go open them, Erestor," prodded Ecthelion, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. Glorfindel, the outward model of perfection, calmly smiled around the mouth of the bottle as he drank from it.
"Then I take it you are both aware of what is inside," said Erestor. His friends nodded to him, and Glorfindel reached into a pocket of his jerkin, pulling from it a thin silver chain on which was a silver key, larger than the ones used in the doors. It spanned almost the length of Erestor's hand, and he took it as it was offered to him. "This opens the crates, I assume?"
"No," said Glorfindel as he took another drink from the bottle. "But you will need it, nonetheless."
Clutching the chain in one hand and the goblet in the other, Erestor stood and walked back to the chests. Setting his goblet onto the floor, he knelt down and then lifted up the unbolted cover and pushed it back, letting it catch on the leather that hinged it. Puzzled, Erestor began to sort through the rich clothing he found within. "Whose are these?" he dared to ask.
"Yours, whose would they be? There are, after all, in your chambers," said Glorfindel, pulling a scroll from some hidden place under his cloak as the pair joined Erestor. "A Proclomation of the King Turgon, stated thus in the Year 495 of the coming of-"
"Only the important things, Glorfindel," scolded Ecthelion, taking the scroll from the other elf's hands. "It is the choice of the King and his court to appoint to the Seven Gates of Gondolin the Seven Guardians of Gondolin. The Warden of the Seventh Gate-"
"They are reappointing the guardians?" Erestor interrupted. "Why would such a thing be done?"
"It is the will of the King," replied Ecthelion and Glorfindel in unison, and Erestor sighed.
Glorfindel could not help but to chuckle. "By now, had you not realized, we are all the pieces upon his great chess board? We move at his will, on his command. And sometimes, the bishop becomes a knight."
"That's silly, Glorfindel, it is a pawn that can become a knight, though it makes more sense to promote it to queen."
Laughing harder, this caused Ecthelion to grin, and Glorfindel said, "Ah, but wouldn't the queen be jealous of that? Fine then, a pawn you may have been, but not any more."
Erestor didn't like the way Glorfindel was looking at him - somewhat like a cat about to pounce a ball of yarn that had fallen to the floor. "What are you trying to tell me?"
" 'The Warden of the Seventh Gate," Ecthelion began again, "the Lord Guardian Ecthelion of the Fountain. The Warden of the Sixth Gate, the Lord Guardian Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. The Warden of the Fifth Gate, the Lord Guardian Erestor of the Silver Stars.' " Ecthelion skimmed the rest and replied, "Well, all the others have stayed in their spots, of course, so I shall not bore you with that."
Glorfindel took back the scroll after it was rolled, bent down, and used it to tap Erestor beneath the chin. "Best to close your mouth, Lord Guardian, no need to attract flies."
"Lord Guardian I am not!" he finally managed.
"Lord Guardian, you are now," confirmed Glorfindel. "Rider of horses, keeper of knowledge, and a fierce fighter as ever - and we should know, we know the elves who taught you," he smirked.
Shaking his head, Erestor looked around, realizing the packages likely contained various weapons and things proper to the station he had been appointed to. "I shall have to tell the King I can not accept such a position. This will never do."
"What are you worried about? Nothing will ever reach you, with Fin and I guarding the outermost gates. It's more of an honorary position, really. Those at the first four gates have others standing in for them more oft than they are there themselves. Of course, you do have the Fifth Gate - we should hope that you would show as much respect for it as we have in the past." Ecthelion lifted the silver cape from the chest and held it so that it draped over Erestor's bare shoulder. "As you can see, silver does a great deal more for you than it had for Fin. And I myself prefer a gate of steel to a gate of gold."
"You only took the job because you're getting an entirely new wardrobe," Glorfindel said, sorting through a bowl of fruit that was perched on a table off to the side. To Erestor, he said, "I asked for the seamstresses to take in my garments as soon as they were able, and they were only too willing to comply when I told them who they did the favor for," he said with a wink. "I am looking forward ever so to wearing your- I mean, MY- splendid red-gold raiment, Thel."
Ecthelion waved off Glorfindel's comment, drawing out a silver belt, most of the rest of the wardrobe contained within the chest being white in color. "This may not do, Fin's waist is thick, just as his head sometimes appears to be. You may very well need a new belt."
"I had them adjust it as well, dear Thel," spoke up Glorfindel, who had found his way back to his chair and the wine. "I told them to consider the size of your brain, and double that to fit 'round Erestor."
"Ah, very good," said Ecthelion, trying to decide if Glorfindel's jest had been meant as a slap against his intelligence, Erestor's weight, or both. Ecthelion frowned when he saw that Erestor was not smiling, not even at his playful banter with Glorfindel. "Erestor, my dear friend, you had to think that someday King Turgon would decide to place you in a position of higher honor and rank."
"I'm a scribe, and that's all I want to be," protested Erestor as Ecthelion handed him one of the white silken shirts from the chest. "I'm not a Lord or a Guardian or a Warden or anything that should be capitalized in a properly written sentence!"
"You are a scribe," nodded Ecthelion. "A scribe who can best most of the army with a sword, race every hunter upon horse, and match intelligence to none save the King himself."
"That is too bold a statement," warned Glorfindel from his spot. Ecthelion gave him a challenging look, and Glorfindel answered, "Everyone knows Erestor's the smartest elf in Gondolin."
The comment was not unappreciated, and Erestor bowed his head in thanks of it. Ecthelion answered him by tossing a few more items at the elf. "There you are. Try the fit of the clothes, you only have three days before you are expected at your post."
Trembling slightly, Erestor took the items and went to his bed, dressing once more, but now in the oddly bright clothes. The white was near blinding to him, and he was thankful for the silver cape that seemed to somewhat subdue the white. He studied the indigo patterns that swirled around the collar and across the front of the jerkin before pulling it on. At last, he was brought the key once more, which he had accidentally let slip to the floor.
"Never let this out of your sight," commanded Ecthelion, holding the chain before Erestor. Erestor gave a nod, and then Ecthelion took the chain and placed it around Erestor's neck. "The guards who will stand in for you all have similar keys while they are on duty, but it is important you never take it off. There is only one key. One key for your gate, one key for Glorfindel's gate, one key for each of the rest."
Erestor now noticed the chain that he had sometimes seen around Glorfindel's neck must have been this one that he now wore. He glanced over to see that now almost but not quite hidden was a chain of fiery gold that disappeared down around Glorfindel's neck, at the end of which was likely a golden key. Ecthelion's neck bore a similar chain, a deep grey metal that gleamed, much of which was not to be seen. Taking hold of the key, Erestor did as they had done with theirs, slipping it down beneath his jerkin so that it was between this and his shirt at his breast. Ecthelion smiled and Glorfindel gave a nod, raising the bottle to the new Warden.
"Is there just the one key for your gate, Ecthelion?"
Ecthelion grinned. "You don't miss a moment, do you? I shall have but one of the keys of the gate, for Turgon has one also, and Maeglin another."
"Maeglin shouldn't have one," Glorfindel said in a wary voice.
"We've been through this, Fin," Ecthelion replied. The conversation stopped abruptly as Glorfindel shrugged, and once more, Erestor was addressed. "When the need arises for you to be at the gate, if you are not at the gate, there is a horn you will hear sounded. It is very loud, and we do not blow it unless there is need. You will know the sound of it. That is, if ever it comes to that. Other than that, you will be needed for formal functions, weddings and gatherings and such," explained Ecthelion. He gave Erestor another appraising look. "It appears these clothes were really made for him and not for you, Fin."
"I feel completely out of place," admitted Erestor.
"Oh, come take a look at yourself," prodded Ecthelion, but Glorfindel held up a hand.
Rising, he went into the washroom and called, "Undo those awful braids of yours, Erestor. We're not going to have you looking like a homely scribe at every watch."
Reluctantly, Erestor began to unravel the long braid that hung down the left side of his back, mostly because Ecthelion had already begun work on the one on the right. Erestor had found that keeping his hair back in this manner was much easier for work conditions, but that it was extremely unflattering - not that he much minded. This was remedied soon enough, as he was moved to the nearest of the chairs, and fussed over by the two frowning warriors.
"Really, just leave me to plait it again," insisted Erestor after he had been pulled at more times than he deemed necessary.
"Just do something simple, Glorfindel," instructed Ecthelion, ignoring Erestor's pleas. "Can't you clip it back, just to get it out of his face?"
"Yes, I'm trying, but there's so much of it," complained Glorfindel.
"You're not cutting it," Erestor warned them both, quite aware that he was criticized for having hair that challenged the length of many of the maidens, yet he was so very vain of this if of nothing else. "Stop tugging it, or you'll pull my head clear off, Glorfindel."
"There, I've finished," Glorfindel said, putting down the brush he had retrieved from the washroom. "To the mirror with you."
He was pulled to the reflective glass that was in the hallway, eyes widening at the elf that stared back with the same expression. "That does not look like me," he said, touching the glass with one hand to be sure it was truly his image and not a trick. "But, aye, it is."
Behind him, Glorfindel and Ecthelion smiled, patted one another on the back for a job well done, and left Erestor to gaze at himself. After a few minutes, they came back into the hall. "I think he's been frozen," remarked Ecthelion, who now held the nearly empty bottle.
"I just don't think he ever actually saw himself before. Don't they have mirrors in Valinor?" joked Glorfindel, but he wiped away his smirk as the heads of the elder elves shook back and forth. "Oh. Well." He waited for either of them to say something before asking, "Erestor, this isn't the first time you've looked at yourself is it?"
Erestor continued to look at the mirror, touching it now. "I never knew my eyes were so dark," he said, somewhat in awe of the image he saw.
"I don't suppose you've ever known that you choose some fairly ill colors, have you?" questioned Glorfindel, edging closer.
Erestor shook his head. "I just choose the most practical things..."
Nothing more was said for some time, but Glorfindel, unable to stand the silence much longer, clasped his hands together. "I am thinking that now would be an excellent time for us to head to the hall and see what is in store for supper. Erestor can take the time to thank the King for his decision, and we can all fill our empty stomachs, and most importantly, we shall see the faces of the rest of the kingdom when they ask us who that lovely elf who is dining with us this evening is."
Erestor turned his head slightly and asked ever so seriously, "Do we have a fourth with us for this evening's meal?"
"Oh, do not fake modesty now, Lord Guardian, we will not fall to such deception," said Ecthelion as he brushed down the velvet of his vest and waved a hand in the direction of the hall. "Shall we, then?"