While the rest of the world was in turmoil, quiet evenings were still spent in one haven of elvendom. In a darkened smoke room in the House of the Hammer of Wrath, five great Elf-lords sat and listened as a sixth caressed his fingertips over the delicate strings of his harp. Glasses of fine wine and refreshing liqueurs were served by a silent servant who otherwise stood unnoticed in a corner. Conversation came between songs, and as the notes faded away, it was Ecthelion who spoke first.
“I am torn between a desire to stay and a need to leave,” he admitted as he sat a little sleepily in a chair and barely held onto his glass. “If I stay overlong, there will be consequences.”
“If I allow you to stay overlong, there will be consequences,” said Rog with a chuckle. “With work tomorrow to be done, I have no doubt that someone’s wife shall knock upon the door in due time.”
“And happily, I will not be to blame for it,” announced Glorfindel with an impish smirk. He had finished half a bottle of wine on his own, and was being more brazen than usual.
Salgant strummed a cord, which brought all eyes upon him, and then said, “I have only the time for one final song. I have an errand come morning which cannot wait.”
“An errand? That sounds dreadful,” said Duilin. “What dullery awaits you which is unfit for your squire to tend to?”
“A dispute among two neighboring families in my jurisdiction,” said Salgant with great annoyance. “One man claims he loaned a large sum of money to another and has signed proof of the deal, and that no return has been given though the money is due. The other claims that he was unaware of the repayment date, and poor harvests on the land he has purchased have led to this unfortunate outcome. He was not intending to withhold the funds, he simply does not have them. I must judge the claims myself and define a suitable outcome.”
“It sounds like a true misunderstanding,” said Egalmoth. “Furthermore, a harsh lesson not to loan to a neighbor what may not be repaid, for the friendship of greater worth may be lost.”
Salgant tested a few notes on his instrument. “I am doubtful that there ever was a friendship to be lost. The accuser has long been known to offer loans of great amounts in exchange for greater returns. The borrowers often find themselves repaying double or triple the original amount.” He moved his hands away from the strings and settled back in his chair. “Until this matter is settled, I doubt I shall be able to play.”
“Tomorrow will be here sooner than you expect,” said Rog. “Off and away, the lot of you now, and Glorfindel be a good fellow and mind Ecthelion on his way home.”
“It will be an honor and privilege,” teased Glorfindel as he saluted Rog and handed his empty goblet to the servant. He touched Salgant’s shoulder on his way towards Ecthelion. “Let me know if you need ideas on how to deal with debtors. I have some experience,” he said with a wink.
Salgant rolled his eyes. “I have not the interest in that, Lord Glorfindel. I intend to settle this in a most dignified manner.”
“I just thought I would offer,” said Glorfindel. He might have added more, but Ecthelion was walking, or rather, attempting to walk to the door, and was tottering about most alarmingly. “Excuse me; I need to see to it that the Lord of the Fountain does not spill himself onto the lawn. Good evening, gentlemen.”
- - -
The next morning, Glorfindel awoke early, for he, too, had business of his own to attend to. On his way to the House of the Tree, he found himself turning off his usual path that would take him through the districts that Egalmoth and Rog lorded over and into the borderlands between Salgant’s and Duilin’s regions. The land to either side of the path sloped downward, and from the path, it gave one a good vantage point to see either area.
Midweek was typically mundane, and Glorfindel hoped to catch Salgant returning from his task. A bit of gossip was a welcome way to pass the time. Salgant was easy enough to spot, and his portly figure was soon in Glorfindel’s sight. The blond approached lazily, as if he were only just by accident passing through, and he saw as he came closer that the dispute was far from settled.
“He should have read the contract before it was signed,” stated a man who was standing beside Salgant. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes darkened angrily. “He knew the amount was due in full in two year’s time. To be neighborly, I did not demand interest – as I normally would,” he pointed out, stabbing a finger at some words in the contract.
“Yes, I see that,” said Salgant as he smoothed out the papers. “The trouble is, your neighbor has no funds to speak of. Clearly, you are uninterested in the land, or else you would have taken that instead.”
“I am not in the business of having my money spent on things I do not want!”
“Certainly not,” agreed Salgant. “The trouble is, there is nothing else of value that he owns. He has no money, and the land, as it turns out, is unsuitable.”
“I was tricked into buying it,” said the other man, his dark hair pulled back from his face, his eyes rimmed with lack of sleep. “I was told I would harvest corn and potatoes; all it bears are weeds. I could not even grow enough food to support my own family – all of my savings went to seeing to our needs.”
“Which brings us again to my solution,” said the first man. “You tell me you can get the money if I give you two years more. What proof do I have of that? I need something in goodwill. Your youngest son is not yet married – give him to me in the meantime. For two years I will treat him like my son. When you repay me, he will be returned. If, in two years you have not, I get to keep him until he works the money off.”
It was now that Salgant noticed Glorfindel nearby, and nodded in greeting, which Glorfindel returned, but neither said anything, and the newcomer was not noticed by the feuding families.
“How can I know you would not sell him as a servant?” demanded the second. “No, no, that is out of the question. I only borrowed two hundred silver from you, a large sum, yes, but not equal to my son. Perhaps if I had borrowed five hundred or a thousand, but it was only two hundred.”
“I need something,” demanded the first. “Besides, it was my wife who told me you told your wife you had considered sending your boy into temporary servitude in order to collect a little money and so that you would have one less mouth to feed.”
Salgant raised a brow as the second man looked away. “Is that true? Speak to me – you have both sworn an oath not to lie.”
“It is true – but I have been desperate,” he exclaimed. “Do not think I would want to do this – I have very few options. I am but a humble farmer,” he added as he fell to his knees and groveled before Salgant. “It is not what a father would want to do, but there are so few options for me!”
Until now he had remained silent, but Glorfindel approached quietly until he was standing beside the man on the ground. “Get up,” he commanded firmly, and the man did so, shaking as he did. “How much do you owe your neighbor?”
Glorfindel was rewarded with an eye roll from Salgant as the man stuttered the amount, and watched as Glorfindel took three gold pieces from a pouch. “With interest,” he said as he held them out to the neighbor. “Take them. It is the best and only offer you will get.” When the gold was pocketed, Glorfindel waved him off. “Now go, and leave your neighbor be.”
When the man had taken his leave and gone back to his own house, Glorfindel turned to the shivering man beside him. “There is a plot of land for sale down the road. The asking price is four hundred and thirty silver pieces. I think you might talk them down to three hundred and seventy. Still, if they ask the entire amount, you will be able to pay it.” He emptied his purse, which contained five more gold pieces and ten silver. “Hold out your hand.”
“Sir... no... I cannot...”
Glorfindel took hold of one of the man’s wrists and lifted it up. “Open your hand.” The man did so, and Glorfindel deposited the money. “Close it.” Hand shaking more violently than his body, the man did as he was told.
“My lord... I cannot thank you enough... I shall forever be—“
“Where is your son?”
The man blinked. “He is... inside with his mother.” Immediately, he tried to return the money to Glorfindel. “Please, sir, I am a simple farmer, but it is family that matters to me the most, and—“
“Bring him here.”
To refuse a Lord of Gondolin anything was a crime with a stiff punishment, and this man obviously was unwilling to face that consequence. He hurried into his house and began to argue with someone inside.
“Glorfindel... as I mentioned yesterday... your methods are... unconventional,” said Salgant. “I think...”
“How old is he, Salgant?”
The harper shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Forty-something. Forty-eight at the most, but probably less.”
Glorfindel patted Salgant on the cheek. “Then you have nothing to fret about, my friend. I only play with adults.”
A moment later, the man returned with the aforementioned son with him. “Here he is, your lordship.”
“Does he have a name?” asked Glorfindel.
“I named him Erestor,” said the farmer, “on account of his desires to be left alone all the time.”
Glorfindel eyed the boy up and circled around him in inspection. “Erestor, what sorts of books do you like to read?”
“I do not know, sir. I have never read a book, or anything else.”
“Farmers, Glorfindel,” Salgant reminded him quietly. “They only learn what they need to know.”
“That was why they did not understand the contract,” countered Glorfindel pointedly. He turned his attention back to the boy. “Can you count?”
“Count?”
“Do you know your numbers?”
Erestor frowned. “I know one and two and three, sir.”
“Good. And after those?”
“Four and five.”
“And?”
“And... one and two and three again?” Erestor held out a hand, and moved a finger with each word. “One and two and three and four and five. Same on this hand, too.”
“What happened to six?”
“Six?”
Glorfindel sighed slightly and rubbed his chin, then changed the topic. “Erestor, I just gave your father a great deal of money and paid off his debts. I have one more thing I would like to do. I would like to take you to my household, where you will be tutored in mathematics and grammar, and taught how to live and act as a gentleman. Your father is worried that you are not interested, and would rather stay here and work in the fields.” Glorfindel took a step closer and addressed Erestor directly. “Which would you rather do – and remember, it is unlawful for you to lie to me.”
“I hate being a farmer,” answered Erestor without a moment’s hesitation. “My older brothers love plowing and planting and harvesting, but I hate it. I would do anything if it meant never farming again.”
The man bowed his head in defeat and placed his hand on Erestor’s shoulder. “Go with Lord Glorfindel, son. He can give you a better life – a life I can never give you.”
Erestor hesitated. “Can I still visit them?” he asked tentatively.
“Of course, but you must apply yourself to your lessons. Visits will need to be brief,” said Glorfindel sternly. When he said the uncertainty in Erestor’s eyes, he shrugged. “Nevermind, then. I am sure there are other lads who would jump at the chance.”
“No, no, please, sir, I will come with you!” Erestor grasped his father’s hand for a moment. “Tell mother good-bye for me and I will see her again soon.”
“Nonsense. It will be some time before I have business here, and it would be improper for you to come alone. Hurry back into the house and tell her your farewells yourself; I will wait.” Glorfindel shooed the boy away and stood outside with Salgant and the boy’s father.
Awkwardly, the man finally said to Glorfindel, “Please, sir, I know what you intend – not now, but some day. I know that the rumors are indeed true. I beg you, sir... do not make him do anything... unnatural.”
Glorfindel frowned at the implications. “Nothing happens in my house that is not consensual. When he reaches his majority, doors will open for him. Whether he decides to step through them is for him to decide – not you nor I.”
Story Notes:
Written for Mawgy for the 2011 My Slashy Valentine Exchange