Glorfindel locked the door once they had entered, and immediately Erestor leapt away from him. “Skittish thing, aren’t you?” questioned Glorfindel as the slighter ellon escaped across the room, placing his back to the wall.
Ignoring the odd change in behavior, Glorfindel made room on the dining table for the tiles, spilling them out on the surface. “There, now you can talk when you want to, not just when Elrond lets you.” Looking over to the frightened elf, Glorfindel beckoned him forward. “Come over here. I have your pictures for you.”
Erestor slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees, and stared at the door.
Following where Erestor was looking to, Glorfindel shook his head. “You must stay here. If I let you out, Elrond will just make you sleep on the floor again. And I dare say, I think you would much rather be in a bed.”
Still, Erestor did not budge, and made a soft hiccupping noise. Concerned, Glorfindel approached him. “Come on, look here,” he said, taking hold of Erestor’s arm. He was much more gentle than Elrond had been about coaxing Erestor to stand up, and was therefore much more successful. As they walked across the room, Erestor tried to pull away and made a desperate whine, but as soon as they were past the bed, he became less tense. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Glorfindel frowned, but led his charge to the table. “All of your pictures are here,” he said as soothingly as he could, and he rubbed Erestor’s back in hopes to help calm him. “You can talk to me whenever you want.”
Already, Erestor was sorting through the pile, separating the tiles into categories in no time at all. This impressed Glorfindel, who sat down across from where Erestor was standing. “Hey.” He waved his hand, catching Erestor’s attention. “You are not as dumb as Elrond thinks you are, are you?”
In reply, Erestor made a sound almost like a snort, and rolled his eyes, then went back to the tiles. Glorfindel, not meaning to, laughed heartily, but Erestor did not seem to mind- in fact, for the first time since meeting the lithe ellon, he smiled. “I have to wonder about you now,” murmured Glorfindel as Erestor concentrated on his task. “What happened to you? Four years old, you came here, but a lot can happen in four years.” He folded his hands together with his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. “A lot can happen in a single day,” he reminded himself.
A knock came at the door, and Glorfindel looked to it, but Erestor’s reaction was delayed, looking only after Glorfindel had stood up. Giving the jittery elf a smile, Glorfindel went to the door, only to find Lindir on the other side. “I thought perhaps having his blanket might help him adjust,” explained the steward, handing the soft bundle to Glorfindel. “I also took the liberty of ordering dinner up for both of you.”
“Thank you.” Glorfindel took the blanket, then motioned for Lindir to step back into the hall. Once there, Glorfindel closed the door behind him. “A question for you,” said the golden elf, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “When his parents brought him here, was there any indication of abuse at all? Any sort of trauma?”
“Trauma, yes, we considered that, but abuse, no.” Lindir placed his hands into his pockets. “Erestor was very close to his parents, always wanting to be held by them. They brought him here when he was just a few years old, but they did not leave him here until he was closer to his majority. After that, he hardly wanted to be touched by anyone. I recall Elrond trying to offer him a hug when he found him curled up by the fireplace in the library one night, and he bit his hand so hard he needed the wound sewn up.”
“I see.” Glorfindel nervously continued to fiddle with the edge of the blanket. “I would imagine that Elrond tried everything he could think of to heal Erestor?”
“Of course; it was why he was brought here in the first place. Unfortunately, to be quite blunt, he cannot cure stupidity. I hate to say it that way, but Erestor is... special,” he finally settled on, shrugging. “I wish I could give you more hope, but he has been here for centuries, and none of us has been able to do much for him.”
When Glorfindel realized there was no more to be said, he nodded. “Thank you, and, thanks,” he said, holding up the blanket.
Lindir placed his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “If you need anything, I am just down the hall, third door on the opposite side,” he said, pointing.
Glorfindel gave another nod, and as he opened the door to reenter, heard Lindir call back as he was walking away, “Erestor was a very sweet elfling. Slow, but kind and gentle. Maybe you will be able to bring that out in him once more.”
As Glorfindel shut the door again and locked it, he noticed Erestor watching him warily. “Lindir,” he said as an answer, and Erestor stuck out his tongue. “You think there is something a bit odd about that one, too,” he agreed.
It was then that Erestor spied the blanket, and he left his work with the tiles to retrieve the bundle from Glorfindel. Hugging it to himself, he immediately walked to the fireplace and plopped it on the floor, making a nest for himself.
“No, no, not there.” Glorfindel picked up the blanket, and Erestor looked up at him, very hurt. “You sleep on the bed now,” he said, and took the blanket there.
Erestor let out something of an ‘ugh?!’ as he saw the blanket being spread out on the bed. Shaking, he backed up into the wall once more.
“You really hate the bed,” Glorfindel realized.
Sliding back down the wall, Erestor shivered and wrapped his arms around his legs again.
Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel took hold of the mattress and with little difficulty, pulled it off of the bed, dumping it onto the floor. “What about now? Still hate it?”
Timidly, Erestor stood up and came to the bed with very tiny steps. He nudged it with his foot, and then knelt down on the edge of it.
“Much better than the floor,” promised Glorfindel.
Erestor was perhaps ignoring him again, for now he continued to explore it until he was satisfied, and laid down resting his head upon one of the pillows. Closing his eyes, he quickly fell asleep, no doubt from the excitement of the day thus far.
It was now that Glorfindel got to take a really good look at his accidental companion. The grey eyes were closed, but in view was the rest of his face, the soft pale lips that were slightly parted and his reddish-brown hair, the strands of which were very fine and escaped the tidy braids in little wisps. He had a very youthful look to him, even for an elf, bordering between handsome and adorable in Glorfindel’s mind.
Eventually, the warrior decided to obtain some rest himself, and carefully relaxed beside Erestor. Sleep overtook him the moment his eyes closed.
