The next morning came and went, with Erestor sleeping until well past noon. The sky was grey, the clouds low. He woke and went to the window and peered down to see the wet courtyard and the wood soaked. There would be no bonfire to sit around tonight. He noticed Greyson sleeping near the door. The wolf must have returned recently, and upon closer inspection, Erestor saw that the wolf had a bandaged paw. He frowned as he stood, and then retrieved clothing and his hairbrush. The expectation was that after the previous night, everyone would be avoiding him, even Glorfindel. He and Glorfindel had never quite reached a point where they could discuss the events that followed the fall of Gondolin, at least, it had not happened yet, and Erestor did not feel as if this morning was the time for it, either. He navigated outside without being noticed, and walked quietly past those working in the drizzle of rain.
Erestor was somewhat surprised to find Finrod meditating near the falls that they were using for bathing. He walked by, and Finrod, without opening his eyes, said calmly, “Good afternoon, Erestor.”
“Afternoon,” he replied back without stopping.
As Erestor found a rock that was not too damp to set his things, he heard the rustle of the wet grass nearby and then the approach of Finrod. “I hope you are feeling better today,” he said.
Erestor gave a brief nod, but did not turn around. “Yes, thank you,” he replied as he shed his robe and tossed it aside before he headed under the water. For a few minutes, he was shielded by the curtain of water. Then, he heard the splash of someone else entering the water and sighed loudly when Finrod came into view. “You do realize I am less likely to want to talk to you if you keep following me around.”
“Oh. I thought this was the perfect plan,” answered Finrod, but it was clear he did not really think so. He tilted his head. “I was actually pondering all of this last night after you went back to bed. There are very few that I consider the same intellectual caliber as I am. Celeborn, for one, and also Turgon, and if you would stop being so evasive, you.”
“You told me last night to do things for myself, not for other people.”
“Right. Then I realized, if you do not know who you are, how are you supposed to decide what you are doing for yourself and what you are doing for others?” Finrod perched on one of the polished rock platforms that jutted out under the falls. “So I thought of something else. When was the last time you were absolutely happy?”
“You think I am in a perpetual state of depression?” Erestor sighed again. “Because I—“
“You are always wearing black. I hardly see you smile. You are defensive about everything that happens or is said to you.” Finrod picked up the soap cake that he realized Erestor was looking for, gave a whistle and tossed it so that the other elf could catch it easily. “If that is happy for you, I would hate to see you when you are upset.”
Erestor decided to turn around in hopes that Finrod would cease his commentary.
It only worked for five or six seconds.
“Shall we start with the black? Why are you always in a state of mourning? Usually, that is what is worn at a funeral.”
“Scholars wear black,” Erestor reminded Finrod. “It keeps the ink stains from permanently ruining shirt sleeves.”
“And you.. scholar every day?” asked Finrod. “It seems unnecessary to wear the same color all the time.”
“It makes it very practical,” corrected Erestor. “I never need to worry that my shirts and pants do not match my shoes or boots.”
“That is the weakest excuse I have heard from someone as intelligent as you,” scolded Finrod. “When did you start wearing black?” he asked.
“When I was here,” Erestor finally answered as he began to wash his long hair. “I was in the House of the Wolf, and our color was black. We were issued uniforms that consisted of neutral colored items and things in the colors of our house. I became used to wearing black.”
“And you never wore anything else after that?” prodded Finrod.
“Not often.” Erestor paused. “In Gondolin I did,” he admitted, realizing that it was going to make Finrod go away faster if he just answered the questions he was being asked.
“Gondolin. Yes, you rarely talk about Gondolin.”
“That is because I prefer it not be remembered that I had anything to do with Gondolin.” Erestor tossed the soap back to Finrod, who caught it and managed to hold on despite how slippery it was. “That was a very painful time in my life.”
“Why did you wear colors other than black, then?” questioned Finrod.
“Occupational hazard.”
“You were not a scholar there?” Finrod asked.
“No, not exclusively. Actor and soldier.”
“Interesting. I suppose everyone was a soldier to some extent in those days,” reflected Finrod. He lowered himself down into the pool of water that the falls emptied into, submerged himself, and came back up for air a minute later. “So you were essentially forced to wear things that were colorful,” stated Finrod as he started to wash his own hair.
“Not always,” Erestor answered tersely.
Finrod finished scrubbing his blond locks and then ducked under the water several more times. “Something is very, very wrong with you,” he finally said, and Erestor shot Finrod a narrow-eyed glare. “It is because I want to help you that I am bothering you about it. I think everyone else here, and most of the other people in your life, your spouse included, are happy enough to stand aside and wait for it to pass. I cannot do that. If it was a matter where you really did not want help, I would not be out here waiting for you in the mist of a dreary day. But you hesitated yesterday on the steps—you almost asked for help.”
“You are reading too much into things,” argued Erestor.
“Am I?” Finrod stepped through the waterfall, presumably returning to his meditations. Erestor finished bathing and then went to the ledge to sit. His plan was to wait until he suspected that Finrod would tire and leave. He stayed over an hour, but when he emerged from the water, he hid his surprise at seeing Finrod still waiting for him. Instead of sitting on the grass, he was lounging on the plateau of a boulder that had mostly dried, due less to the meager sunlight and more because of the wind. “I was going to send in a search party,” he said as Erestor picked up his hairbrush.
“Gondolin was the best thing that happened to me, and the worst thing that happened to me,” said Erestor.
Finrod straightened up with interest. “Were the happy and the sad intermingled, or was it because of the fall of the realm?”
“For the most part, I enjoyed my time there. Once in a while, there were some issues, but if I had to go through it again I..” He made a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a growl. “I would prefer not to go through the fall, but for the sake of the rest, I would.”
“Interesting. So sometimes, you actually wore bright colors without any coercion?”
Erestor frowned. “Occasionally.”
“You know that it is perfectly normal to arraign oneself in different colors. Perhaps not all of them at once,” Finrod cautioned. “Generally, though, I think it would be fine if you decided to do that again.”
“People are used to me being like this,” Erestor replied.
“Ah. I suppose that is the trouble. It is not that you are adverse to the idea; it is that you are against change.” Finrod changed the topic. “Why are you restarting the school? Is it for yourself, for the students, or for some other reason?”
“Clearly, the students will be the main beneficiaries of the school,” said Erestor sternly.
“I understand that,” agreed Finrod. “What I mean is, what are you going to gain from it? Will this make you happy? Or is this just another task to mask your unhappiness and keep you busy?”
Erestor set the brush down and started to dress. “I see this as an opportunity for me to give back something. I do want to give others the chance at the experiences I had – the good experiences that I had at the school.” He climbed up to sit with Finrod after dressing in everything except his shoes. “There is little I am going to gain from doing this.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“Because it should be done.”
“Why not leave that to someone who really wants to do it? Enedrion or Fingon could take over the project.”
Erestor looked up at the clouds in an attempt to gauge if there would be more rain later in the day. “I started it. I should see it through.”
“Again, someone else could do that,” reasoned Finrod. “Are there reasons *you* want to do this?”
“I want to make sure it is done correctly,”
“You want control of it,” corrected Finrod.
Erestor thought for a moment. “I suppose I do,” he answered.
“Do you trust the others, if you suddenly had to give it up? Do you think they could finish it?” asked Finrod.
“Not really,” answered Erestor with little hesitation. “They could complete it, but it would not be quite as I would want it to be.”
“Have you been able to enjoy yourself?” asked Finrod. “Is the process fun for you?”
“It is work. I expected it to be work when I started, so this is not something I was unprepared for,” said Erestor.
Finrod shrugged. “I think you need to reassess everything that is going on here. I think your idea is sound; I think your execution of the project is where you need to rethink things. You need to delegate a little more, and you need to ask with every task, do I need to do this? Can I have someone else do this? Can we skip this completely? Right now, you are undertaking something that is eventually going to cause you to hate the entire thing, and possibly even walk away from it.”
“I would never walk from it,” said Erestor firmly.
“How can you be so certain?” wondered Finrod. “Are you using this as a way of getting back at those who tormented you when you were here the first time?”
“N—maybe a little,” admitted Erestor. “Maybe I want to create something where no one will feel like I did.”
“That is a noble thought, but I think we both know that no matter what, there are always bullies. The task is not to keep them away; the task is to discover them and to find out why they do such things and to educate them. In order for that to happen, well, there will be some here. It is just the way of life. I think, though, with a headmaster such as yourself, there is a chance that they will be educated.” Finrod patted Erestor’s shoulder. “Come. It is going to rain again soon. We should return to the house before a search party is really sent out for you.”
As they walked back, Erestor only nodded to conversation that Finrod made. Before they reached the house, Finrod slowed his pace and Erestor did the same. “If our roles were reversed, I would want you to do the same for me,” he requested.
“You would want me to be a stalker and a nuisance? You would want me to follow you everywhere, ask you every conceivable question, and generally make you want to stuff a rag into my mouth for the few seconds of peace you would gain?”
“Everything up to the rag. We should leave your sexual yearnings out of this conversation,” suggested Finrod.
“That was most certainly not a ‘sexual yearning’,” mumbled Erestor, but his cheeks were tinged red and Finrod smirked with an innocent shrug. “How did you even make that correlation?”
“I just wanted to see if I could invoke an emotion other than disgust from you,” stated Finrod. He caught sight of Amarie near the house and sped his pace to a jog. “We will speak more later, Erestor,” he called out without looking back.
-----
When Erestor reached the house, he called everyone together for a meeting. The rest of the day was spent moving everyone who came with a spouse or other partner to shared rooms so that they did not need to all be in the one barrack room.
“Is this because I pissed him off, or because of the nightmare he had?” asked Finrod as he passed by Haldir at one point in the reorganization.
“Who knows,” answered Haldir. “You could just ask him.”
“He does not seem to like answering my questions,” whispered Finrod as he caught Erestor walking toward them out of the corner of his eye.
Haldir moved a dresser into the nearest room, and then came back into the hallway once Erestor had passed. “He likes answering questions. He is an adviser and a librarian. He just hates answering questions about himself, for the same reason.”
“Explain, please,” requested Finrod as he helped Haldir move one of the bedframes into the same room they were working on.
“He takes the jobs seriously. In those capacities, one is supposed to give advice or answer questions based on facts. That means that he seems to think he cannot express any opinion as it relates to himself. In fact, there are many things where I do not know what he personal stance is.” Haldir lowered his end of the frame when Finrod nodded that they were in a good spot for it. “The things that he has taken a side on are.. I do not want to say trivial, but they are oddities.”
Finrod shut the door to the room to keep any eavesdropping to a minimum. “Such as?”
“His views on women for one thing. He expounds upon how they should be educated only in domestic skills, be obedient to their male counterparts, and spend their time raising children.” Haldir shook his head. “It always sounded rehearsed. It reminded me more of when he would be performing a play. Like he was on stage, being watched, so he had to say his lines perfectly.”
“Interesting.”
“I do not know if that helped you much with whatever you are trying to find out,” said Haldir as he walked across the room and opened the door.
Finrod followed him out. “Actually, I think it did.”
-----
“Glorfindel, do you have a moment?” It took Finrod most of the day to catch Glorfindel alone, but when he finally did, he wasted no time. There was a moment after dinner when Erestor wanted everyone go to the upper levels to select rooms. Finrod whispered his plan to Amarie, and she made sure to distract Erestor with conversation as everyone made their ascent to the third and fourth floors. Finrod waited until only Glorfindel and Fingon were left at the bottom of the stairs, and then intercepted the blond. Glorfindel nodded to the request, and Finrod tilted his head at the door that led outside.
The pair left the house, and Finrod led the way to the courtyard. It was looking better and better each day, though after the rain they could both see that there were certain areas where the bricks had sunken down over the years and would need to be readjusted to keep the puddles from forming. A few new benches had been added, but Finrod walked beyond these until they were centered in the courtyard and able to see someone approach from any side. “I wanted to talk to you about Gondolin,” Finrod said when they were a suitable distance from the house. “Erestor spoke of it being both the best time of his life and the worst time of his life.”
“I think the best part of it, if I had to guess, was the theatre. He spent a lot of time there, and was a respected thespian. I would venture he was even proud of the time he spent with Rog’s army. He was a lot different then,” added Glorfindel as he worried at some of the bricks that were breaking apart with the toe of his boot. “He was…”
“Relaxed? Happy?”
“I was going to say ‘fun’. He got drunk, he joked around, he danced on the tables with Ecthelion, he sang at the top of his lungs. It was obvious he was a Noldo—the clothing, the jewels, the attitude. *I* was the subdued one in those days,” added Glorfindel with a dry chuckle. “Sure, I think happy, mostly, yes. There were a few… issues. He never held it against King Turgon for what he did, though. I mean, he brought it on himself. Funny, though, one of the things he did that got him into trouble with the King was strike Salgant. They eventually became great friends.”
“Tell me more about Salgant,” insisted Finrod.
“Salgant owned the theatre; he controlled the lesser market. He was very influential when it came to entertainment and commerce. They went from hating each other to being inseparable at times.” Glorfindel smiled as he recalled those days. “His house was the most impressive. I found it more beautiful than the King’s Tower. When you entered, there were marble floors in the foyer and a grand harp with chairs for people to sit around it and listen. Upstairs, he had a stargazing tower. It was a room that was not as large as most of the rooms there, but it was so cozy. Erestor loved it. If I could not find him anywhere that he should have been, then that is where he was, drinking wine with Salgant as they watched the stars and discussed everything and anything.”
“Are there other friends that he had in Gondolin?” Finrod asked.
Glorfindel considered the question. “Well, Duilin, Ecthelion, and.. hmm. Oh! Umm..” Glorfindel chuckled uncertainly again. “Uhm.. my ex-wife.”
Finrod only looked shocked for a moment. “I see. I take it that would be an uncomfortable situation for you, that he remained friends with her.”
“On the contrary, the four of us—Erestor and I, and Tauniel and Eruluinde – get together often.”
“Interesting.”
“Now, after Gondolin, he had a few friends who would visit him in Rivendell, and then of course, Elrond, Celebrian, and myself. Prior to Gondolin, there was Thranduil, but things are a little strained with that at the moment,” said Glorfindel.
“How so?” wondered Finrod.
“Haldir was in a.. it was sort of a marriage. I suppose it was a marriage. Haldir was married to two other people. They were all together. It recently ended, and it did not end well. Thranduil is the father of one of the other.. ex-spouses.”
“So that has been uncomfortable for the fathers, I imagine.”
“Indeed, for everyone involved.” Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest. “What is this all about anyhow?”
Finrod smiled and shared his plan, and Glorfindel nodded in agreement. “In that case,” he said, “let me write down their addresses for you.”
