"May I present Master Erestor, my chief advisor and head librarian. Also, he will be in charge of your schooling while you are here in Imladris," explained Lord Elrond.
Haldir bowed stiffly and said only "Mae govannen" after given a stern look from Lord Elrond. For the duration of the journey from Lothlórien to Imladris he had been given leave to speak only when spoken to and those times were few and far between. He doubted now was a good time to mention he had met this elf twice in the past, and stood straighter when Lord Elrond made a disgruntled sort of coughing noise in the back of his throat.
"I believe we shall begin with a tour of the grounds and then the house before I show you to your quarters for the duration of your stay," said Master Erestor. "Come along."
Keeping silent as he followed the dark elf with the seemingly large eyes around what would be his home for at least the next ten years, Haldir began to devise ways to get back at Lord Elrond. Though he had agreed to this educational experience, he had not expected the discipline to be so harsh. Speaking out of turn one day on the road earned him nothing by lembas and water for supper that night, despite the fact that there was more than enough roasted game for him to have partaken. Another time while riding in the carriage with Lord Elrond and a few advisors, he became curious about a book sitting on a ledge and reached for it, only to have his hand swatted by Lord Elrond's riding crop. The carriage was stopped, and Haldir made to walk shamefully alongside.
He had promised to his parents that he would obey Lord Elrond's rules, and did not wish to go back on his word. As they came to a stairway that Master Erestor began to drone on about, Haldir realized he could still find ways to seek revenge, and still heed the commands of Lord Elrond and his instructors.
- - -
Classes were different with Master Erestor than they had been with Lord Glorfindel. In the Golden Woods, the guardian and slayer of balrogs would often hold class out of doors, and studying could be done while resting in the grass and gazing at clouds. Now Haldir sat at a hard wooden desk that seemed a bit too small for him in a room with no one else except Master Erestor when he came to give instruction. The rest of his time was spent studying at the uncomfortable desk or cleaning out stalls in the stables.
This last task he considered was done just to embarrass him, eldest son of the Lord of Lórien. His father might not have been completely in charge of the realm as Lord Elrond was here, but King Amroth had picked his father above all others to rule in his place until he returned, and there had to be something said about that.
That was where he was now, shoveling used hay from one of the stalls as he waited for Master Erestor to come into the stable to quiz him on what he had studied that day. Westron, Dwarvish, Orcish - always the same. Languages he would learn first, for communication was key. He would read and write in the day and afternoons and in the early evening speak while cleaning the stables. He had nearly an hour each day before the arrival of his teacher and relished this time alone, even if it was spent shoveling out a stall and brushing horses.
Heaving an especially heavy load out of the stall he was presently in, Haldir dropped the shovel as he saw the pile land on the stack of wooden crates Master Erestor usually sat upon. It would take extra time to clean the mess, and Master Erestor was due to arrive at any moment. As he stomped to the messed crates, a thought occurred to him and he gathered up some fresh straw instead.
For weeks he had done his best to set pranks and tricks to upset his elders. Unfortunately, the only other elf he spent any amount of time with was Master Erestor, and so had fallen victim to all of the pranking. He had said nothing thus far - not when the ink had been watered down and caused his signature on a document to run and ruin it. Nothing was said when salt had replaced sugar on the tea tray. Not a word was muttered nor a curse breathed when the windows were left open a day before a night's storm and flooded the classroom with three inches of water that spilled into the hall the next day when the door was opened.
Spreading the straw across the crates to cover the mess, Haldir was back in the stall picking up his shovel just as he heard Master Erestor greet the stable hands who were closer to the main entrance. Moments later he was standing at the gateway into the stall Haldir was cleaning. "Good evening, Haldir. How do you fare?"
"Good evening, Master Erestor. I am well, thank you," he said in Westron just as he was greeted. His teacher gave a nod and walked to the crates as he usually did. Haldir kept watch out of the corner of his eye as he slowed his work just a bit.
"Tonight I think we shall address how you would go about ordering food in an inn where Westron is the language of choice." Master Erestor began to sit down, but then paused as he noted the concentrated look on Haldir's face. "We did cover that, didn't we?" he asked, half-standing and half-sitting, but not yet on the crates."
"Yes, sir, we did," Haldir answered quickly.
Master Erestor nodded. "Good, for a moment, I thought I was getting ahead of myself." He smoothed his robes and sat down.
The crates had never been the sturdiest to begin with, but Master Erestor was an elf, and a very thin elf at that. The added weight of the mess was just enough to cause the wood to give way. Master Erestor didn't just sit in the mess, he was covered in it and on the ground amid the crushed crates.
Haldir stared, his face fully showing his shock, but somehow it seemed the dark elf knew the cause of the catastrophe. Rising up from the mess, he shed the robe he had been wearing and tossed it on the pile of rubble, which rid him of the filth that had been on him. Without looking at Haldir, Master Erestor walked swiftly down the corridor.
For a moment, Haldir did nothing. Then, a smile spread slowly across his face. Perhaps now, Master Erestor would tell Lord Elrond of his disobedience and he would be sent back to Lothlórien. Back home to his parents, to his sister and brothers. Home to the trees he loved, and to Lord Glorfindel's stories and silly lectures.
Home, where few spoke Westron, and no one spoke Dwarvish. Where there was no great library, and no Hall of Fire where musicians played and sang and Lord Elrond could be found when he had the time, telling tales of old and even a few jokes. Home, where he shared a small flet with both Orophin and Rumil and had no place to actually call his.
Feeling ill, Haldir stopped his work and leaned against the wall. The best thing about Imladris was Master Erestor, the elf who had been kind to him, had never raised his voice or hand. Who treated him as an equal and taught him so willingly anything he asked. Haldir's stomach was knotted up now and he stared out at the damaged crates. He wished away his pride, his need to seek revenge upon Lord Elrond and his staff.
As he stood and thought, he heard a sound coming from one of the stalls nearby. Fearing it to be a sick horse, he leaned the shovel against the wall and walked down the corridor until he came to a darkened spot at the far end of the rows of stalls, past the bits and bridles that hung on the wall. In the corner on a stool, breathing raggedly with his face buried in his hand, was Master Erestor.
"Please," said the quiet voice Haldir had gotten used to hearing on a daily basis. It was more tired and strained now, a stark contrast to the stern but cheerful tone he was used to. "Please, just go back to the house. You have caused me enough grief today."
Face aflame and eyes cast downward, Haldir shamefully approached and dropped down to his knees, bowing his head. "I am so sorry for the trouble I have caused. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I have repaid that kindness with such rude actions. I deserve to be thrown into the dungeon."
"We don't have a dungeon," said Erestor, looking up to meet Haldir's eyes. Haldir looked away to see the red tint his teacher's had taken on and the streaks of tears down Master Erestor's cheeks. "All I wanted was to start a school here. Lord Elrond said it was folly, that we could not run an inn and an institution of higher education. Obviously, he was right. I cannot even handle one student, let alone an entire class."
Haldir's shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. "I am stubborn, rude, arrogant, and completely disrespectful to authority."
"As is nearly every child I know, to some degree," answered Master Erestor.
Feeling even worse that he was now being defended by the same elf he had caused so much trouble for, he added, "I'm also dim-witted and lazy, and I-"
"What?" Master Erestor looked upon him angrily. "Who told you that?"
Shocked at this sudden change, Haldir said honestly, "Lord Elrond."
"Did he?" Standing up, Master Erestor pushed back his long hair over his ears and crossed him arms, waiting until Haldir stood as well. "You are intelligent, and when properly motivated, you work very hard to achieve your goals. Lazy," he snorted, walking down the corridor with Haldir following him. "Lazy is the Lord who sends me a student he thinks unteachable in order to keep us from moving forward as a society."
"I beg your pardon?" asked Haldir.
Master Erestor motioned with his hand for this to be forgotten. "There is a gathering in two months. Men from surrounding towns, elves from other realms, and even dwarves, I assume. How would you like to attend as my assistant for the duration of the conference?"
"Would I be able to do that?"
"Not if you can't speak the languages. We shall have to work doubly hard, but the effort will be worth it," Master Erestor assured him. "We should begin now," he added, steering Haldir in the direction of the doorway and toward the Last Homely House.
