It was chaos when Glorfindel returned to the house. Findekano had awoken, and was demanding to know where he was and just who was going to be feeding his cats. At the same time, a group of elderly, scholarly elves were exiting a carriage. Tintilien ran up to open the door, and gave the unknown group an odd look.
“Stop that, honey. It is not nice to stare,” Glorfindel reminded her.
She nodded and closed the door directly behind Glorfindel once he had entered.
Glorfindel looked over his shoulder. “Tintilien, why did you do that?”
“Because it is polite to knock. I remembered that when you told me it was polite not to stare.” A loud knock came at the door, and Tintilien stood still right behind Glorfindel.
“So help me, Glorfindel, you will put me down this instant!” demanded Findekano as he made a fruitless attempt to hoist himself out of Glorfindel’s arms.
“Tintilien, open the door,” shouted Glorfindel as he headed down the hallway.
“Ada says not to open the door to strangers!” shouted Tintilien back. She ran down the hall and into her room, slamming the door shut as the knock on the doors came again.
Glorfindel groaned as the knocking came a third time, louder now. “Where is everyone?” he growled as he set Findekano down onto the bed in the healing room.
“Finally!” Findekano was able to swing his legs over the side, but the moment he put weight on them he crumpled to the floor. “Shit, I think I broke my leg!” he exclaimed as he managed to pull himself up onto the bed again.
“Both legs,” corrected Glorfindel. The knocking began again, and it was turned to pounding now. “I guess I shall get it,” he yelled down the hallway for everyone to hear.
“Thank you!” called Celebrian from the kitchen.
Glorfindel seethed as he yanked the door open. The fist of one of the travelers nearly knocked him in the face. “Good evening,” he said tersely.
“Good evening.” The leader of the trio looked Glorfindel over from head to foot. “Is Reverend Erestor at home this evening?”
It took Glorfindel a moment to remember Erestor’s other and not so highly publicized occupation. “He may be. I just arrived myself, if you might have noticed. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.” He moved aside for them to enter, and they did so – scrutinizing every inch of the house, from the specs of dust on the staircase to the sprig of dried up mistletoe that had been left hanging over a door since the past winter.
They were led into the parlor, and he then hastily excused himself and hurried into the kitchen. “Celebrian, where is Elrond?”
“He is up in our room throwing pots. Why do you ask?”
“There is a very injured elf in the healing room. I think his legs are broken, and I am not sure what else. Also, he is as mad as a wet hamster.”
Celebrian tried not to giggle at the image, but failed. “I shall bring him down. Do our guests need tea?”
“I can take care of that, if you can find Elrond. Oh,” he said suddenly as she was about to leave, “do you know if Erestor is home yet?”
“No, not that I know of.”
Glorfindel nodded his thanks and set to preparing a tray of scones while he boiled water. When he brought the tray and the tea into the parlor, he found all three of the elders sitting on the couch in a row. They were all quite calm, and all three refused the snacks he had brought. “I do regret to inform you that Erestor is not yet here, and may not return until after suppertime. Perhaps you would wish to call on him tomorrow?” suggested Glorfindel. “I can let him know that you were here.”
“That would be imprudent,” answered the one who had spoken to him earlier. “We have traveled far to come here.”
“You could have dinner with us, then,” said Glorfindel as he poured a cup of tea for himself. “Erestor’s friends are friends of ours, I always say.” When the three said nothing in return, Glorfindel added, “My name is Glorfindel, by the way.”
“Yes, we know,” replied the leader.
“Oh, you do?” Glorfindel nodded. “I did not catch your names.”
“That information is inconsequential,” said the leader. “We will wait for your husband to arrive and would prefer to do so in silence, if it is all the same to you.”
“I see.” Glorfindel picked up his cup of tea. “If you change your mind, just, uh, let me know. I will be just in the next room helping to prepare dinner. There will be more than enough for three more.”
“You may take the tray with you when you leave,” stated the leader of the group.
Glorfindel frowned, but took the teapot and scones back into the kitchen. He found Celebrian there again, and was updated on the situation with Findekano. A sedative had kept him from swearing like a Telerin sailor while Elrond set his legs and tended to his other wounds.
Elrond managed to finish the task and slip into the kitchen just as dinner was being served. Some of the members of the household were currently out, so the group was a meager one. Caranthir, who had become a regular visitor, was sitting beside his granddaughter, helping to cut her meal into smaller pieces – one of the few items she still had difficulty with.
“Who was knocking on the door earlier?” asked Elrond as he sat down.
“Just some religious people here to see Erestor,” explained Celebrian. “We tried to tell them he would not be home for a while, but they are insisting upon waiting.”
Elrond held onto his napkin, hovering it just above his lap. “Should I ask them to join us?”
“They said they did not want to,” reiterated Glorfindel.
“How strange.” Elrond shrugged and spread his napkin out onto his lap. “Maybe if I asked them they would change their minds.” He took a roll from the basket and passed it along to Tintilien, who set it down, took hers, and then gave the basket to Caranthir.
Celebrian giggled. “Good luck. The minute they found out I was not a Sedryner, they stopped talking to me and would only speak to Glorfindel and relay messages to me through him. It was very strange. Very strange indeed.”
“Sedryners,” snorted Caranthir, as if this was the answer to the question. Tintilien giggled.
“They are not all like that,” defended Glorfindel, though to be honest he was not too familiar with the religion, despite having been baptized into it, and did not know how most of them acted. His interactions were limited for the most part to the small congregation that Erestor led in Rivendell, and now they practiced privately, or at times while in Valimar would attend services that Legolas held. Of the inner workings, Glorfindel knew little. One of Tintilien’s carrots scooted off of her plate, and Glorfindel quickly retrieved it from where he sat across from her before Caranthir could offer any aid.
“Let us change the subject,” suggested Celebrian, and soon they were discussing the upcoming plans for the yuletide festivities.
Halfway through the meal, Erestor walked into the kitchen. He smiled and greeted everyone, and just as he was about to sit down was told by Elrond, “You have guests in the parlor.”
“Oh?” Erestor stood back up again. “I was not expecting anyone.”
“Yes, and they seem to be aware of that,” agreed Glorfindel. “They have been here for the last few hours.” Before Erestor could ask why they were not asked to supper, Glorfindel added, “They are some Sedryners. They seem to know a lot about you and I, or at least, enough to make me uneasy.”
“Oh.” Erestor looked a little worried, but he smiled in an attempt to hide this. “I suppose I should go and speak to them, then.” He moved out of the kitchen, smoothing out his clothing as he left.”
Glorfindel folded his napkin and set it onto the table. “Excuse me,” he said quietly, and he walked out of the kitchen. He stood just outside of the doorway of the parlor, unsure of whether Erestor really wanted him there or not, but too curious and protective not to be around.
Erestor greeted each of the elders with great respect, reciting not only names, but full titles as well. He knelt before each of them and bowed his head, and even kissed a ring worn by the leader before touching his forehead to it as well. Then he sat down on the chair opposite of the couch, but only when bidden to by one of the three. “How can I be of service to you?” he asked as he bowed his head in reverence.
“We are actually here to discuss just that – your service to our cause.” The leader paused, and then said, “It will no longer be necessary.”
“Sorry... I do not understand.” Erestor swallowed hard. “Have I caused some offence? If I have, I am wholly unaware of it.”
The elders exchanged looks with one another, and then the leader nodded. “There have been a number of incidents which have recently come to light. We think it best, for all parties involved, if you are to gracefully bow out of your commitment to the church.”
“We? Who is we?” questioned Erestor. He was attempting not to be too defensive, but was having a very hard time keeping calm. “I have been very instrumental in spreading the faith across Middle-earth. My devotion to the faith cannot be questioned!”
“And for that, we thank you. However, your service is no longer needed.” The elder lifted his hands up, palms facing the ceiling. “It is as simple as that.”
“There must be a reason for this – what have I done? I am at least entitled to that much.”
The elders whispered almost inaudibly to one another, and then the leader spoke. “There have been many times in recent years when you have been found to be partaking in rituals not condoned by our faith. Although you may not think this a huge offence, it is for one in your position. This is not acceptable, and will not be tolerated.”
“Rituals? What rituals?” Erestor shook his head. “I have done no such thing.”
“You have been caught dancing in the forest of Orome in a very... unorthodox state of undress,” said the leader. “This is not acceptable.”
“Oh, that – you misunderstand! That is not a ritual, it is...” Erestor trailed off. “Never mind. You would never believe me even if I explained the whole story to you.”
“So you admit to this transgression.”
Erestor sighed. “Yes, I admit to dancing in a forest in the nude. I did not know it was a sin to do so.”
“You did so as part of a pagan ceremony.”
“It was not a pagan ceremony,” muttered Erestor, but he was already certain to be losing the argument.
“Then what was it? Please, enlighten us.”
Erestor looked over each of the elders and shook his head. “It is a very long story.”
“We have time.”
“Well, uh...” Erestor laughed uneasily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Like I said, long story...” He coughed and rubbed his throat. “Do you mind if I get some water?”
None of the three said anything, so Erestor shifted uneasily in his seat. “I suppose if I told you I was doing so as a favor to Orome the Hunter, you would laugh and not believe me.”
“We would most certainly not laugh,” replied the one who was doing all the talking.
“No, I suppose you would not… but that is the truth. I only did it because Orome and his sister Nessa asked it of me.”
The trio gave each other grave looks of concern, and the one on the right made a few notations in a book that Erestor had not noticed until now. “We had a feeling,” remarked the leader, “that this might be the case.”
“You… do believe me then?” asked Erestor, sounding quite surprised.
A new voice spoke up, and it was the one who had been taking notes. “We know that you are overwrought with work. You have a farm here which you work on, a position at a library, and you are also raising a child which you adopted. Atop all of that, you continue to lead a moderate congregation. Obviously, your self-created delusions run deep.”
“Delusions?” Erestor laughed uneasily. “What are you talking about?”
“Your claims of being close enough to be spoken to by Lord Orome and Lady Nessa are obvious figments of your imagination.” The book was snapped shut. “You are to be given lenience, but only this once.”
“In two weeks, we have our annual retreat,” explained the leader. “I have noticed from our records that you are often absent when they are held. I would expect, if you remain serious about your dedication to the faith, then you will be there. When you are there, we will expect a full confessional, penance, and a declaration swearing never to engage in such activities in the future.” All three stood in unison, and Erestor stood as well, unable to articulate a proper response.
Only the leader stepped forward, and he reached up and placed his hands on Erestor’s cheeks. “May Eru take mercy upon you, my son.” He kissed Erestor’s brow and then moved back to join the other elders as they left the room.
Quickly, Glorfindel pretended to be tending to the vase of flowers in the hallway, and he nodded politely to the three as they left. None of them paid him any attention, but the leader stopped and doubled back as the other two continued to walk down the hallway to the front door. “It is my understanding that the two of you are raising a child together. If, for some reason, your husband was unable to fulfill that obligation, would you be unable to raise the child on your own?”
Glorfindel glanced at the doorway to the parlor, but did not see Erestor emerge as he had hoped. “What are you insinuating? Why would he be unable to be here?”
“Let me ask this another way – how dedicated is he to his faith?”
“Very,” answered Glorfindel immediately. “It is part of who he is. It helped him through some very tough times, and in return he helped others… such as myself,” he admitted.
“Then you should know, he appears to be in a very confused state. If what you say is true, be sure he attends the retreat in two week’s time. He may very well not return for a while; my hope is that he will listen to reason and join us at the monestary for a time.”
“Oh really?” Glorfindel was unsure whether to get angry, cry, or laugh at the notion of Erestor being shut away, silenced as a monk until such time as these extremists seemed fit. “I will keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.” The leader looked about to say something else, but a sudden outburst from within the room they were standing near shocked him. “What was that?”
“What was what?” asked Glorfindel as he attempted to move the Sedryner toward the door.
“Son-of-a---!” A tirade followed, mostly Findekano swearing, with a few calming words from Elrond, and then the sound of something hitting a wall hard and breaking.
“That… what is going on in there?” demanded the leader as the cursing began anew.
“That… oh, right, that…” Glorfindel moved aside as Erestor suddenly appeared from the parlor and rushed into the healing room, the door open only enough for him to slip inside, and not long enough for anyone to get a glimpse within. “Just another one of those exorcisms he performs from time to time.”
“Exorcism?” The elder tried to move around Glorfindel, but the warrior managed to usher him to the front door.
The three were nearly shoved out onto the porch. “Oh, yes. He is quite good at those. He likes to make house calls when he can.”
“But this is his house,” interrupted one of the Sedryners.
Glorfindel nodded vigorously. “Terrible thing is, the evil spirits all tend to congregate once he vanquishes them, and you just never know when one of them will get testy and jump into someone here. Good thing Erestor is here to take care of it.”
“But—“
“Good night!” Glorfindel slammed the door suddenly, and then as an afterthought opened it again. “Have a safe journey!” He slammed the door once more, and heaved a huge sigh as he stood with his back against it.
“Ada Erestor says that telling lies is bad.”
Glorfindel looked up with surprise to see Tintilien standing in the hallway looking at him. “Shhh!” he admonished, not sure how far off the porch the elders might have gotten. “How long have you been standing there?”
“A while. The yelling is just Master Findekano being bossy at Uncle Elrond. What is an exorcism?” she asked as Glorfindel walked past her.
“Later, sweetie.” Glorfindel opened the door to the healing room and was prepared to dodge a flying object. Instead he found Erestor sitting at the bedside, relating to Findekano an accident that had kept him in bed and under Elrond’s care. Findekano did not look particularly pleased, but at the same time he did not look as if he was going to cause anyone any harm at the moment. Glorfindel slowly moved up beside Elrond to see if his assistance was needed. “How are things going?”
“Better,” mumbled Elrond. There was a bruise on his arm, and he was frowning, but he did not have the usual look of concern that he often wore in this profession. “Would you mind finishing this?” He handed a roll of linen to Glorfindel and moved to retrieve a bowl of warm water that had been sitting on top of the dresser.
Glorfindel carefully wound the roll around Findekano’s right leg as Elrond had already done around the left. He watched as Elrond mixed a fine powder into the water and stirred it until there were no lumps.
“This is certainly not necessary,” remarked Findekano as Elrond dipped his hands into the soupy matter and then used a glop of it to cover part of the linens.
“I cannot trust you not to reinjure yourself. You will heal faster this way.” Elrond applied more of the goop and bid Glorfindel to help him. “If we work together on this, I will not have to make a second batch. It dries very quickly.”
Findekano bemoaned his situation, cursed Taralarwen’s name a few times (as he was convinced his accident was her doing), and when all was done, inquired again about his cats. “I will send someone in the morning to see to them,” offered Elrond.
“Tomorrow? What about tonight? My poor little ones will be starving if they do not eat tonight – some of them do not even know how to hunt. There are three who are nursing – if they do not eat, neither do their babies. Would you be so cruel as to leave them there?” demanded Findekano.
“We could go and feed them.” The offer came from Tintilien, who had opened the door silently and was peeking in just off to the side.
Glorfindel pointed to the hallway, fingers dripping of grey gunk. “You should not be in here, little one. Go into the parlor or to your room.”
“Why am I being punished?” she whined. “I was just trying to help!” She stomped off down the hall before Glorfindel could reply.
With a growl, Glorfindel shoved his hands back into the mixture, finding it had crusted over on the top. “Oww!” He instinctively raised his hand up to suck on his hurt knuckle. A moment later, he spat out the foul, ashy mix that had inadvertently ended up in his mouth.
“Keep your day job,” advised Elrond as he gently pressed down, broke through the crust, and lifted a handful of the liquid mix out.
Glorfindel huffed and started to work on peeling off the dried muck from his hands. “This stuff is disgusting.”
“Think how I feel,” grumbled Findekano.
Elrond picked up another roll of linen and loosely wrapped it around the layer that was drying. “You will need to stay here for at least a week.”
“A week?!”
“In the meantime,” continued the healer, his voice raised slightly, “I would be willing to see to it that all of your pets are brought here.”
“They are not my pets; they are my family. Anyhow, I doubt you would be able to accommodate them all,” said Findekano.
“How many are there?” asked Elrond as he helped Glorfindel clean things up.
“Forty-five,” answered Findekano with complete certainty.
Elrond cringed slightly. It was known to the others that he detested animals in the house, and only allowed Mitzi free reign because he was convinced that feathers were cleaner than fur. Grey Boy, Haldir’s wolf, was given special dispensation because, quite frankly, one tends not to want to argue with a wolf. “I think we could handle forty-five.”
“And the kittens,” added Findekano as Elrond turned to leave.
Elrond turned back around. “How many kittens?”
Findekano shrugged. “How should I know? The little buggers never stay still long enough for me to count.” The words themselves might have appeared uncaring, but the way they were said was full of affection. “It would be impossible, and quite traumatic, to try to move them all. However, someone needs to see to their needs.”
A pushover when it came to the welfare of children and animals, Glorfindel offered his assistance. “I could take a ride up and make sure they are fed, if you give me instructions. Erestor could come with me to help me out.”
“Glorfindel, remember, we have our own little one to take care of,” said Erestor.
“She can come along. She probably knows the cats quite well,” added Glorfindel.
Findekano nodded. “I would feel comfortable with Tintilien taking care of them.”
“It is getting late,” worried Erestor. “She might be tired.”
“I am not sleepy!” called out Tintilien, who had not left the hallway and was only just around the door.
Glorfindel chuckled. “Alright, you little eavesdropper – go get ready.” He sighed as he listened to her run down the hallway. “Sorry, Erestor. I know you like her to stay on a schedule.”
Erestor shrugged wearily. “We can take the coach, and I will sleep in her stead.” He started to stand up, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He looked down at Findekano and waited expectantly.
“Can you… bring a few back with you?” he asked hopefully. He looked for the first time lost, scared, very small, and in need of comfort. “Just a couple of them.”
One sideways look from Erestor to Elrond, a nod from the lord of the house, and Erestor smiled down compassionately. “Of course. Which ones should we bring?”
“Tintilien will know.” He dropped his hand back down. “Thank you.”
Erestor nodded and shuffled out of the room behind Glorfindel and Elrond, who closed the door softly behind him.
Blankets and cloaks were gathered. When the trio walked out onto the porch, they found the carriage awaiting them, with Thay and Fool of a Took already hitched to it. Thay looked a little annoyed at having been woken, while Took stamped his front feet and expressed his excitement at the idea of a nighttime adventure.
Caranthir was standing next to the door, held ajar by his elbow. “I packed some gingerbread in a basket; Celebrian just finished baking it. Erestor, there is food in there for you, and some for Glorfindel, too, since neither of you quite had a chance to eat. It should still be warm.”
“Thank you. You did not need to go through all of this trouble for us,” said Erestor.
“Findekano loves those damn cats. He put a lot of time into training Tintilien; it would be bad etiquette not to return the favor in some way.” Caranthir looked about to say something else, but instead opened the door and quickly climbed into the carriage.
Glorfindel tugged Erestor back a step while Tintilien rushed forward and clambered into the carriage. “Does he mean to come with us?” he whispered.
“He brought us dinner. He can drive the carriage halfway to the western sea for all I care.”
