Summer brought a warmth to the valley that comforted and enlivened all those living there. The Last Homely House was bustling with activity, from the visitors that passed through to those who lived there all the way to the Lord himself as he joyfully spent time playing in the gardens with his young sons.
Even those who normally spent their time indoors were lured out into the sunshine. Sitting beneath a towering oak and leaning against the trunk was a solitary soul, an elf who quietly turned the pages of the book that was open upon his lap. A gentle breeze waved through his dark hair, wafting the scent of freshly baked treats from the windows of the kitchens nearby. Not too far from where he sat, pairs of young soldiers played a sort of game, where one fought with one arm behind his back and the other blindfolded. Others watched them in a broken circle, cheering on brothers or those in their company, or perhaps now and again encouraging a lover to do better against whomever he was fighting.
One pair in particular began to fight fiercely, causing others to turn in distraction or remove their blindfolds. The elf beneath the tree tilted his head in the direction of the shouting, smirking as the sounds of the battle increased in speed.
“Get him! Get him! You nearly had him!”
“You can’t let Lhun Company down! Duck! Duck!”
“Watch your step, now!”
“Nice hit!”
The elf beneath the tree sighed as the noise grew, the group moving slowly closer to his shaded spot. Bowing his head, he resumed turning the pages of his book.
“Daro!” The one who had been holding his arm behind his back placed his hand upon the blindfolded elf’s chest. “We are about to intrude upon his lordship’s lands.”
Removing the cloth from his eyes, the other elf laughed loudly. “On such a bright and sunny day, you sit and flip through your books,” teased the second one, and he reached down to pick up a second book which had remained closed beside the dark elf. His hand was sharply swatted by the solitary one’s walking stick. “Damn you, Erestor! That smarts,” he complained, sucking on the mark that was developing on the back of his hand before shaking it and then cradling it with his other hand.
“Don’t touch. Not yours.”
“As if you have use for them when you can’t even read them,” taunted one of the others of the crowd that was forming.
“Oh, but he loves his books,” snickered another. “He should marry his books.”
Erestor sighed and shook his head, meaning to ignore them.
“Can you imagine,” said the one who had stopped their game, poking his sword at the edge of Erestor’s robes, “that this one was once a warrior?”
“However did he manage?” queried another. “With those robes, what did he do? Ride sidesaddle as he shot orcs?”
Laughter erupted again to shouts of “Sidesaddle, like a lady!” and “Looks like a girl, rides like a girl”. Moments later, the leader of the group found himself sitting hard on the ground after the walking stick had knocked him off-balance.
“I have half a mind to tell Glorfindel what you lot are up to,” said Erestor as he pulled the book that was on the ground protectively into his lap, leaving his walking stick at his side.
“Why would we care about that?” Seeing his opportunity, the other elf grabbed the stick just before Erestor could realize his mistake in letting go of it. Standing up, the elf twirled the cane around at his side. “He’ll have a good laugh of it, and at your expense. What would he care about you for? It isn’t as if he cares about you or anything.”
Erestor did not answer the question. “May I have my walking stick back?”
Continuing to twirl it, the soldier quirked a brow. “Listen to that,” he said, nudging one of his companions. “Walking stick he calls it. It’s a cane. A crutch. You want it back?” Erestor nodded. “Ask me nicely for it. Just a little pleading will do,” he added to the snickers and snorts behind him.
Another sigh escaped Erestor’s lips. “Why should I have to ask you for what is rightfully mine? No, I won’t ask you again. As I said, I shall simply tell your captain what is going on when he is away.”
“As if he has the time for you!” shouted the leader, tossing the stick between his hands while Erestor felt his way up the tree trunk with one hand, his books firmly held to his chest as he stood. “He probably doesn’t even know who you are.”
“Indeed, he does have time, and indeed, he does know who I am.” Erestor spat the words back partially clenched teeth. “Eru help you all when I speak with him next.”
As Erestor kept his hand out in front of him to guide his way, one of the guards yelled, “What, is he your lover or something?”
Not bothering to turn back to them, Erestor shouted, “And what if he is?”
The group near the tree silenced immediately. Erestor reached the house, grasping for the handle of the door. Once he entered and the door closed behind him, the leader paled as he looked at the walking stick in his hands. “Oh, shit.”
Inside the house, Erestor leaned his back against the door, hunting with his free hand through his pockets for a handkerchief. After wiping the sweat from his brow, he stopped and went over in his mind what he had said. “Oh, shit.”
Story Notes:
[as requested by Cally] Erestor is being threatened and in order to get the mean elves off his back he announces that Glorfindel is his lover, figuring that he'll be out of Imladris by the time that Glorfindel comes back from patrol. Unfortunately for him such is not the case and Glorfindel comes back early. Erestor has to plead with Glorfindel to pretend to be his lover cuz he knows those elves would just go after him all the more.