Glorfindel lounged on the bed of the room he and Erestor had claimed. Down the hall on the same floor were Beleg and Fingon, and Amarie and Finrod, whom he had not seen since late the previous night, when Finrod insisted he was going for a walk and that no one should wait up for him. It was late morning, and the weather outside had not changed. The darkened sky harkened further rain showers and the sun was hiding behind the gloom. The trees were bare, their skeletal branches contrasting against the grey sky, but leaving little to look at outside. Consequently, Glorfindel had drawn the curtains a hour ago. The coffee-colored drapery was still not colorful, but it seemed warmer and less somber than the picture he would have seen through the window.
He looked up from the novel he was reading when Erestor entered the room. Before he could speak he was silenced. Erestor simply held up a hand and continued into the walk-in closet. A candle within was lit, and Glorfindel turned the book over to keep his place, resting it on the velvet of the burgundy coverlet on the bed. He stood up, moving away the loose gauzy curtain of the canopy. When it was evident that Erestor was not about to offer explanation for his behavior, Glorfindel followed.
The closet was not cramped for one person, but it was certainly intended for one person, not for two to attempt to fit inside. Nonetheless, Glorfindel joined Erestor. He placed a hand on Erestor’s shoulder and peered around to see what he was doing.
One by one, Erestor was sorting through his side of the closet in an attempt to find something that was not black. He would have settled for something that was not entirely black, if he could find it. Just as the school was, in a way, to prove others wrong that he had been a failure, he was about to prove Finrod wrong about his choice of clothing.
So far, it was not looking as if he would.
Glorfindel began to notice a pattern in what Erestor was doing. He kissed Erestor’s cheek and excused himself. He only needed to walk a few paces away, knocking on one of the tall, white doors down the hall. Fingon answered it, having also been chased inside by the rain. A brief explanation from Glorfindel was all it took for him to follow the blond back to where Erestor was taking a second look through every article of clothing he owned.
Fingon said nothing. Instead he stood back, unnoticed by Erestor, and looked the frustrated elf up and down. He nodded to Glorfindel and left the room, only to return a few minutes later with a selection of outfits from his own inventory. Glorfindel tapped Erestor on the shoulder and nodded to the bed, where Fingon was setting out the various outfits for Erestor’s perusal.
Erestor peered out of the closet, made a face, and walked to the bed. One by one, he picked things up, looked them over, and put them down. After several minutes of this, Fingon rolled his eyes and pulled the most recently inspected item from the pile. He then selected a pair of trousers and handed both of these to Erestor. He shooed him into the closet to try them on, and gave Glorfindel an understanding look once Erestor closed the closet door. “Maedhros was the same way,” he said.
When the door to the closet opened again, Erestor called out, “Glorfindel, will you come look at this?”
“That sounds ominous,” whispered Fingon to Glorfindel. Glorfindel frowned and went to the doorway. “Everything alright in there?” called out Fingon.
“This is nice,” said Glorfindel, loud enough so that Fingon could hear.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“It seems awfully bright.”
“That is the point.”
Fingon walked to the closet and looked over Glorfindel to inspect Erestor. “You look fine,” he assured Erestor. “Actually, you look normal.” Fingon looked closer. “Actually.. take it off a moment.”
Erestor hesitated but did as Fingon instructed.
“Now turn it inside out,” directed Fingon.
Erestor’s cheeks flushed as he realized his own mistake and pulled the sleeves back around where they were intended to be. He pulled the shirt back on over his head and Fingon moved around Glorfindel to get a closer look. He stepped into the closet without invitation and tucked the shirt in, then fussed over the sleeves and retied the lacings. “This is an ideal color of blue for you,” Fingon explained. “I know, because while we have the same color hair, it always looked a little off on me.” Fingon’s complexion was so pale it was a milky white, while Erestor had darker skin that often tanned further from his time spent in the sun. “Keep it,” he added once he was satisfied.
It was now Glorfindel’s turn to offer fashion advice. “I have a sash that would look great with that,” he said, pulling it from a hook in the closet. Without permission, he wrapped it around Erestor’s waist and tucked in the loose ends.
“Let me fix your hair for you,” offered Fingon as he took Erestor by the arm and led him back into the bedroom to the chair by the desk. “Glorfindel, maybe you can find a pair of boots that will go with these trousers.”
“I think most of his footwear is black, too,” answered Glorfindel as he looked from the brown trousers to the floor of the closet.
“There should be suede house slippers in the back that are brownish black,” said Erestor. Glorfindel happily retrieved them as Fingon made some simple braids to keep Erestor’s hair from falling in front of his face.
When Fingon finished, Glorfindel set the slippers down for Erestor to step into. Erestor then stood up and glanced for a moment in a mirror. He did not frown, but he did not smile, either, which made Glorfindel’s shoulders slump. “I hope this is not a once a century occurrence,” remarked Glorfindel hopefully.
Erestor took another look at himself in the mirror but did not answer.
***
Finrod returned just in time for lunch. No one seemed to wonder at his absence, or why he reported nothing on why he had been gone for so long. He did, however, give Erestor a nod and a smile. “Very nice choice of colors,” he commended before he followed Amarie to help her set places for the meal.
For some reason, Finrod was very insistent about keeping everyone in the parlor after they finished lunch. Every time someone had some task that they planned to do elsewhere, Finrod would go with them and bring them back with whatever supplies they needed. The room was becoming cluttered and in a state of disarray. When either Fingon or Glorfindel made mention of this, Finrod waved it off and reminded them it was better than when they had arrived.
There was a knock on the door just before suppertime, and when everyone else looked up with uncertainty, Finrod said without seeming surprised, “Enedrion, would you mind getting the door?”
Enedrion gave Finrod a curious look but did as he was asked. He stood at the open door for a moment and scanned the area outside before he bowed and motioned with his arm for whomever was on the other side to enter.
Several of the occupants looked up, but it was not until he heard Glorfindel gasp that Erestor turned his head to the doorway. “Salgant!” he exclaimed. He stood up so quickly that he almost spilled the tray of paint he was holding.
Behind Salgant came Duilin, and then Tauniel and Eruluinde, and finally Eledu and Gwyndir. As each person entered the house, Erestor’s grin became a little wider. He set the tray down in order to properly hug and greet everyone. “I heard from Finrod that you were building an inclusive school or something,” said Salgant as Erestor was hugging Duilin. “You do understand that means you have to educate ladies, too.”
“Right. You better watch out, Erestor, if you teach them to read, no idea what they might do!” Duilin faked a look of horror on his face before he laughed and tugged on Erestor’s sleeve. “Nice shirt. Good color for you.”
“No worries about that,” spoke up Tauniel. “I am sure he will offer all of the important classes. Sewing and cooking and husband hunting.” She nodded seriously as Eruluinde laughed.
“Erestor is well aware that skills like cooking and sewing are not exclusive to ladies,” spoke up Eledu as Enedrion shut the door now that everyone was inside.
Salgant had already procured a goblet of wine and a honeycake (which was very odd, because no one recalled any honeycakes in the house before that point), and added, “I would also like to point out that husband hunting is not a task exclusive to the fairer sex.” Before Salgant could take a bite from the honeycake, Duilin had stolen it from his hand and was sniffing it curiously. Duilin then lowered it down and fed the treat to the tail-wagging wolf who was happy to see that his master was adding so many more two-legged wolves to the pack. Salgant’s displeasure was only evident for a second; he was soon holding a second mysterious honeycake, to which Duilin merely shook his head.
In the midst of the introductions, Erestor looked over to see where Finrod was. The plotting elf was sitting by himself, hand over his mouth to hide his smirk. Erestor considered not acknowledging what had been done, but when Finrod looked up and locked onto Erestor’s gaze, the older elf smiled and mouthed a thank you to him. Finrod closed his eyes and gave a single nod of his head before he stood up to meet those he was unfamiliar with.
“Shall we get going?” asked Salgant once he had licked the residual honey from his fingers. Those who had just entered the room began to nod in agreement while Erestor looked puzzled.
“Where are we going?” Erestor asked as Glorfindel brought him a cloak.
Eledu winked at his long-time friend. “Dinner. We discussed it, and this place is not that far from some of the places on the outskirts of Tirion. There is a lovely establishment we are going to take over for the evening. Then, we are going to hold discussions in the morning on how to proceed.”
“What about Greyson? And the painting?” asked Erestor as he was being ushered out the door.
“Do not worry, Atadar,” said Haldir. “Orophin and I are going to stay here to tend to the estate. Go. Have fun.”
***
The particular pub that they came to was none other than Rumil’s own establishment. He greeted them all at the door and settled them inside at the tables, where drinks were already awaiting them. Erestor found himself separated from his husband. When everyone finally sat down, he was sitting at a table with Salgant, Eledu, and Amarie. “Amarie, I think you know Eledu. I am not sure you have ever met Salgant.”
Amarie held her hand out to Salgant. “A pleasure.”
“All mine,” replied Salgant.
“And Eledu, have you met—“
“Is there anyone who does not know Eledu?” asked Salgant with a smirk. He still held out a hand and he and Eledu shook with a shared laugh. “His husband runs an exquisite establishment. Have you ever been?”
“On several occasions,” confirmed Erestor.
“I adore the trained turtles,” admitted Salgant. “It gives me more time to peruse the bread basket.”
At the next table, Duilin chuckled at Salgant’s comment. “If only that was the only thing he perused. He prefers the dessert cart.”
“How long have the two of you been together?” asked Beleg. He and Fingon were at the table, as well as Eruluinde.
“Long enough to know that he is already plotting ways to eat the extra desserts,” Duilin answered as he glanced over his shoulder.
Glorfindel was at the table with Gwyndir, Tauniel, and Finrod. “I had no idea that we were this close, or we might have considered taking more meals down here,” Glorfindel apologized.
“Neither did I,” admitted Finrod. “Once I found the school, I did not give the location of other things a second thought.”
“I have to admit,” said Tauniel cautiously, “I expected it to be slightly better than what we saw.”
“The outsides of the buildings need a lot of work,” confirmed Glorfindel. “We have many of the buildings painted inside, and floors replaced where they had to be. The steps are all solid; anything that had rotted was redone.”
“Much of the furniture had to be scrapped, but Orophin is a master crafter. He has built so many things, completely without plans, in a short amount of time. I am confident that we will not have difficulty with that,” said Finrod. Noting that Gwyndir had yet to speak, Finrod engaged him in conversation when Glorfindel and Tauniel began to discuss the fabric needs with all of the bedding and curtains that would be required for one hundred and forty-four people. “I have not often seen such mastery of craft,” he said of the jewelry Gwyndir wore.
“Oh. Thank you. My father taught me,” answered Gwyndir shyly.
“You made all of this?” Finrod admired the rings and bracelets, and the gems embedded in them as Gwyndir nodded. “My wife made a suggestion many years back that she wanted to see me with jeweled ears.. perhaps I shall commission something and surprise her.”
“It would be an honor,” said Gwyndir as he bowed his head.
“I leave the creativity to you. Name the price, and you shall have it,” promised Finrod.
Gwyndir smiled. “I would not charge you for it, not exactly.”
“And what exactly would you require for payment?” Finrod asked.
“My daughter saw you as her hero when she was growing up,” explained Gwyndir. “If you might find the time to pay her a visit, that would be payment enough.”
“A toast!” announced Rumil suddenly, and the conversations abruptly ended at the individual tables. “To Headmaster Erestor and his school! May it be a haven to all those who attend!”
There was a great deal of applause and cheering, and insistence of a speech. Erestor was finally persuaded to stand and raise his glass. He thanked those who had been working on the project, and those who were joining them now, and all those in Tirion who had offered their assistance. The entire time, Erestor found himself forcing smiles and laughter, and he was only too glad to sit down again and relinquish the floor to Finrod, who further praised the project and those tending to the estate. Dinner began when Rumil brought platters around to each table, and the conversations were renewed.
Erestor managed enough activity on his plate to make it look as if he was eating, and excused himself for a moment when wine glasses were refilled. No one seemed to notice that he did not return to the merriment that evening.
No one save Glorfindel, whose goblet was refilled more often than all others.
***
While everyone else was having dinner a few miles away, Orophin and Haldir were in the barracks. Haldir was sitting on the floor tending to Greyson and scratching under his muzzle while he wrote a letter to Celebrian with his other hand. Orophin sat on one of the trunks against the wall as he carved a small figurine that would join the others he had worked on here and there. He had collected all of the pieces of scrap wood from the doors and furniture and was turning them into chess sets after he convinced Erestor that they should paint a chess board on the middle of every table in what would once again be the dining hall, so long as Orophin would be able to supply each one with a chess set. He was on set number fourteen of he did not want to think of how many anymore.
The brothers exchanged a few words back and forth, but for the most part each was engrossed in his task. Orophin sometimes hummed to himself, but Haldir was silent. In the middle of a song, Orophin lifted his head and stilled his hand. “Halli, I think I hear something outside.”
Haldir lifted his head, as did Greyson. Orophin put down his tools and went to the window. The muffled sound of a violin could be heard outside, and when the window was open, it was evident that the fiddler was close by. Haldir joined Orophin at the window and looked out. As soon as he did, the music became louder. He looked down and saw his forest nymph below the window. “Would you like to come inside?” he called out. She shook her head. “Would you like me to come down?” She nodded.
Haldir drew his head back into the room. “Oro—“
“Go on. I can take care of Greyson for you.”
“Thanks. I owe you!” He gave Orophin’s shoulder a squeeze, then crouched down to pet Greyson again and kiss the top of the wolf’s head. “Be a good puppy for Uncle Oro,” he said before he hurried to pull a cloak off of a hook on the wall.
