Picking up another heavy volume, Glorfindel turned to the back and skimmed the index. “There I am,” he mumbled to himself.
Turning back to the actual text, his mood darkened as he searched through the passages for his name. “Only one? I killed two and a dragon before that last one... scholars my ass... who in the name of Eru wrote this piece of crap?” And so the mutterings continued, with each historical inaccuracy grumbled about by the reborn warrior. “Most beloved, save only for Ecthelion? Where do they come off saying such a thing?”
“Apparently, they never knew you,” spoke a voice a little further down the reference aisle that Glorfindel was using for his research area. He had spread many books across the top of the low shelf and added another as he shot a glare down at the unfamiliar ellon.
“They did not know Ecthelion, either,” retorted Glorfindel. “Beloved is hardly the word I would have used to describe him. For any reason,” he added when he was given a cheeky look from the other elf. “Did I meet you?”
“Yes. You told me you hated my singing. Luckily, you are not the first, and I do have a rather good group of adoring fans, so it is not something I dwelled upon.” Holding his hand out, the ellon said, “Lindir, chief of Lord Elrond’s staff. I see you have decided to do a bit of light reading today.”
Glorfindel shook Lindir’s hand. “Your singing is not so bad; likely I was drunk when I made the comment. And what I am doing it trying to decide whether to tear out the misinformation, or burn the entire collection of First Age history,” corrected the blond.
“Oh, dear, do not do that. We would have nothing exciting to read. Have you looked at the Second Age volumes?” questioned Lindir. Glorfindel shook his head. “Utter nonsense and completely boring. There were a few little wars here and there, but nothing that can compete with the excitement of the First Age.”
“Then it should be removed from reference and placed in fiction,” suggested Glorfindel.
Before Lindir could give his opinion on the idea, a flash of movement caught his eye. Looking past Glorfindel down one of the long, tall aisles of books, he took note of someone climbing up the shelf, no doubt attempting to get something they could not reach without the assistance of one of the librarians. “Elladan! Get down from there right now!” shouted Lindir. Several others in the library turned upon hearing him, including Elladan.
Unfortunately, the young elf lost his footing, and in finding it again, clumsily shifted his weight enough to pull the entire shelf toward him. Instead of trying to get away, he scampered up and over the shelf, thereby helping the shelf to tip and topple over.
The force of the shelf falling and the distance to the next one created a domino effect – the first crashed into the second, and the second clipped the third. Glorfindel expected everyone to rush out of the way as they were doing, and stayed back so as not to get in the way of the panic, until he took note of the elf who was apparently blissfully ignorant of what was happening.
Between aisles four and five was a thin, fragile-looking elf. In fact, Glorfindel had thought it was an elleth until he came closer. Obviously too deep in thought, the ellon could not hear the crashing of each consecutive shelf. Glorfindel sped forward, shoving the ellon to the ground and bracing himself against the impact as he spread his arms out and made ready to act as an anchor. He changed his mind after a quick look behind him, and realizing that there were at least a dozen more rows of shelves. Crouching down beside the wide-eyed elf, he rose back up with a roar and slammed his weight into the shelf just as it began to tumble forward.
Ramming the shelf by himself was no easy task, so he was grateful when he noted Lindir at the other end of the stack, shoving into it with his shoulder. “On three!” called out the blond, and the steward nodded. A few seconds later, both elves propelled themselves into the shelf, and it went crashing back the other way, sending the shelves back how they had come. The first one crashed into the wall at the far end, and Glorfindel sighed in relief.
He made to take a step away, but found he could not move his legs. Looking down, he saw one very terrified elf with his arms wrapped around Glorfindel’s legs. The ellon was shaking and sobbing softly, so Glorfindel lowered himself with minor difficulty to the floor. “Do not fear. All is well. Are you hurt?”
Glorfindel was answered by having the ellon launch himself into his arms, clinging to the blond’s neck tightly. He buried his face against Glorfindel’s shoulder.
“Poor thing,” said Lindir as he approached. “I would have expected him to have had at least the sense to move.”
There was no time to ask further questions as Elrond came into the room, eyes full of fury. “Where. Is. My. Son.”
A half-dozen elves pointed in the direction of the fireplace, from behind which a forty-something elfling peeked. “You called for me, Ada?”
“What do you think you were doing?” boomed the angered peredhel. Again, Elladan cowered. “Come here – now!”
Elladan cautiously came forward, head bowed. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, Elrond reached out and yanked him closer by the ear. “Do you see the damage you have caused? Do you know how much time it will take to clean this up, not to mention the fact that there are no doubt books that have been destroyed because of you?” Elrond let go of his son’s ear, and to Glorfindel’s surprise, spanked the youth in plain view. Not very hard, nor very long, but enough to embarrass the lad and in some way, placate the angry elves who were now sorting through the mess. “Up to your room, and stay there until I come to get you.”
Elrond watched as Elladan sniffled and then ran from the room. Behind the elf lord, an identical-looking elfling looked on with a very serious expression before turning and calmly leaving the library on his own accord. The lord of the valley shook his head and then walked to Glorfindel. “There are days when I wonder if I should not have pulled Elrohir from his mother’s womb first,” he said, more to Lindir than anyone else.
“We have a little problem,” said Lindir, motioning to the shivering elf in Glorfindel’s arms. “Erestor was nearly crushed and now he appears to be petrified.”
“Great. Just what I needed.” Elrond rubbed his forehead, then reached down and made an attempt to pull the cowering ellon away from Glorfindel. “Erestor, get up now! Erestor, I said, get up!”
“Elrond, he is scared half to death,” said Glorfindel, wrapping his arms around the elf. “Give him a few moments.”
Rolling his eyes, Lindir gave Elrond a sideways glance. “Do you wish to explain or shall I?”
“Explain what?” asked Glorfindel.
“Glorfindel, he is only doing that to get attention,” said Elrond. “He only has the mental capacity of a small child – maybe twenty years, if that.”
Rocking the ellon to try to calm him, Glorfindel said, “I am not sure I quite follow.”
“He was born an idiot,” Lindir said simply. “His parents brought him here when he was about four. He does not talk, he cannot read or write, he only makes very crude sounds and sometimes becomes quite angry. We kept him here out of pity.”
“How can that be? I saw him arranging the books just now,” argued Glorfindel.
“According to the master librarian, he somehow can put the books back where they belong. He believes that Erestor has memorized, somehow, where each book goes without having to read the call numbers, for he cannot read. It keeps him out of trouble, at least,” said Lindir.
“Alright, enough of that,” decided Elrond. He took hold of Erestor’s arm and again attempted to pry him from Glorfindel. “I said, get up!” shouted the elf lord.
Erestor made a noise akin to ‘guh’ and only tightened his grip on Glorfindel. “Perhaps I should take him back to his rooms,” suggested Glorfindel. “Maybe he would be comfortable there.”
“He is in his rooms,” said Elrond matter-of-factly. He motioned toward a stack of bedding that was tucked beside a chair near the fireplace. “He sleeps here.”
The look on Glorfindel’s face was of complete horror. “He sleeps here? On the floor, beside the fire, like a hound? And you tell me that arranged marriage is unacceptable, when you make someone sleep like an animal!”
Sighing deeply, Elrond said, “He would not know what to do in real rooms. With no one to watch him, this is the best solution. We have a very limited number of residents, as I told you before. There is no one to sit around and keep an eye on him.”
“Then I will watch him.” Glorfindel stood up, now cradling the ellon to his chest. “I have nothing else to do, and as you are so fond of keeping mischief makers from making mischief, this will be ideal, will it not?”
Little thought was given to the idea. “It is completely unacceptable. It would be akin to keeping him as your servant, and I forbid it.”
Grinding his teeth together, Glorfindel pondered until he thought of a solution. “What if he were my equal? What then?”
“You cannot be seriously suggesting what I think you are-“ began Elrond, but Lindir cut him off.
“Just a moment, Glorfindel. Elrond and I must have a word in private.” Lindir ushered Elrond away to speak with him privately. “If he wants Erestor, let him have him. How long has it been that you have wished someone could rid you of him?”
“I would not be rid of him, he would still be here,” reminded Elrond.
Lindir nodded. “But you would not be responsible for him any longer. Let Glorfindel deal with him. He seems to like challenges; maybe it is a good match for both of them. Erestor will have someone to take care of him, and Glorfindel will have... well, someone who might be able to stand him for more than five minutes time,” admitted Lindir.
In agreement, the pair walked back. “Are you serious about what you are asking?” questioned Elrond.
“If that is the only way that you will allow me to take care of him, then yes. I am serious,” said Glorfindel.
“Go to my office and wait for me,” instructed Elrond. He motioned that Lindir should join Glorfindel and Erestor as well. Once the three had left, Elrond looked around the destruction, shaking his head. It was as he was leaving that he spied a stack of books, safely out of the way of the mess. He smiled wryly to himself, realizing that Glorfindel had inadvertently managed to save every single one of the books he would have liked to have seen destroyed.
