"Now see, three weeks away and there you have it, the valley still stands. Or… sits, I suppose, as it were," Glorfindel said as they rode down the path toward Imladris.
"I reserve my judgment until I see the state of things in the House," Erestor said dryly. "Admittedly, it was a rather nice change. But whether it was worth it remains to be determined."
Glorfindel just laughed that light, easy laugh of his and rode on ahead while Erestor pondered how it was that one's best friend could also be their greatest source of annoyance. In the end, it would matter little – once they were in again, bathed and fed and settled, one would turn up at the chambers of the other with a bottle of wine or cordial and they would sit by the hearth long into the night debating points of philosophy or history or, if Glorfindel were allowed to steer the conversation, downright gossip.
Together they rode down into the valley and walked their horses into the stables before going up to the house. It seemed a bit unusual that no one came to greet them as they returned; even if they weren't guests, they were highly placed in the House of Elrond, of course. Glorfindel didn't seem to notice and just bounded up the stairs to his chambers.
Erestor, however, was immediately on his guard. Something just didn't seem right. Instead of making for his rooms straight away, Erestor diverted toward his office. He hadn't even got there before Lindir came scurrying out from the kitchens, rushing toward Erestor's office. He froze half-way and looked like a startled rabbit over his shoulder at Erestor standing near the stairs.
"Oh, you're home, Master Erestor!" Lindir fairly squeaked, completing his rabbit impression. "That's wonderful. Very good…. I… you'll be wanting a nice, relaxing bath, won't you? Why don't you just go on upstairs and settle in and I'll see a bath is prepared at once. Some lovely lavender oil as well, that'll be lovely after a long journey, won't it?"
Erestor sighed. He'd known it was a bad idea, leaving the valley. Why he'd ever allowed Elrond and Glorfindel to persuade him….. "How bad is it, then?" he asked, resignedly. "Was it the mid-year festivities?"
"Festivities? Oh, no, Mid-summer was quite… festive this year. Perhaps overly festive. More so than usual, I mean…." Lindir trailed off a bit pathetically.
"Then what?" Erestor asked, feeling his patience running thin. "The house still stands, by all appearances. What has occurred in my absence? Some atrocity?"
"Atroc- of course not, Master Erestor! Why, it's only just… well… you see, we had guests, and… the kitchens… the chefs, that is…. And the wine cellar is… well…."
"Yes? What about the wine cellar?" Erestor prompted, now getting concerned. Had the mid-summer celebration got so out-of-hand simply because Erestor had not been present to keep order with his renowned retinue of stares, glares, and disapproving airs?
"Oh, the cellar is fine, really! It is just a bit… less well-stocked. At the moment," Lindir said.
"Does 'less well-stocked' happen to mean 'quite empty'?" Erestor asked, doing his best not to growl.
"No! No, not 'quite'," Lindir said with a smile that could only be called nervous.
"And about the chefs?" Erestor inquired, rather sure he didn't want to know.
Fortunately for Lindir, the impeccable timing of the Lord of Imladris saved him responding. "Ah, Erestor, welcome home! I trust your travels were refreshing?" Elrond said, stepping out of his study.
"I'm not entirely sure, Elrond. It seems I've returned to some sort of crisis…."
"Crisis? Whatever gives you that impression, mellon-nin?" Elrond said persuasively.
Erestor turned to quirk a brow Lindir's direction but found the minstrel-cum-stand-in-seneschal had made himself scarce. "I came across Lindir," Erestor said. "He seems rather harried."
"Oh. Well, I think he'll be quite happy to leave you to your office now you're back. He may keep to the composition of songs and poems from now on," Elrond smiled unconcernedly.
"What went on here, Elrond?" Erestor asked bluntly. "You and Lindir both seem keen to skirt the issue."
"Nothing so terrible, I assure you," Elrond said, putting an arm around Erestor's shoulders and walking with him to the stairs. "Perhaps you should like a relaxing hot bath before supper? I shall send -"
"With lavender oil as well? Yes, Lindir already attempted to ply me with that," Erestor said, halting and giving Elrond a look that suggested he wouldn't be put off any further.
"It really can wait until tomorrow," Elrond promised, "but I also know that flintiness in your eyes well enough. Let us talk in my study, shall we?"
Erestor nodded shortly and followed.
"Cordial?" Elrond offered, taking the decanter from the sideboard near his hearth.
"I shouldn't like to turn it down, but are you certain we have enough to spare?" Erestor said pointedly. "It seems as if there's been some problem with the wine cellar and I shouldn't like to waste what may now be a threatened commodity. Just exactly how drunk did everyone get, Elrond?"
"Ah. I assure you, nothing got unruly. Well, not… offensively so. You see, we hosted guests. And they simply have rather different celebratory customs," Elrond said, handing Erestor a glass of cordial and gesturing to a couple of comfortable chairs.
"Elrond…," Erestor said meaningfully.
Elrond took a deep breath. "We hosted a company of travelling Dwarves, that's all," he said. "I didn't quite have time to lay in a stock of ales, unfortunately."
"Well, that explains the dearth of wine," Erestor said, beginning to relax. Maybe this wasn't such a dire situation after all. Except…. "It's quite some time since Elves last hosted Dwarves at a mid-year celebration. Somewhat unusual, is it not?"
"Somewhat," Elrond conceded. "Although, admittedly, it wasn't as if we extended an invitation particularly for the holiday. They were just travelling this way."
"The reports awaiting me aren't going to be particularly complete, are they?" Erestor more stated than asked.
Elrond nodded. "Some things will need to remain concealed for the time being, I believe."
"Does this have anything to do with why you were so eager to convince me to undertake that pilgrimage, Elrond? You wanted me away during their stay? I must say that I'm rather surprised and slighted by that. Surely you know that I counted many Dwarves dear friends when I dwelt in Eregion."
"Erestor, I meant no offense, truly. And I've been hoping for some while that you might take a well-earned respite, particularly at this time of year. But, yes, when I learned that this company was likely to pass through here, I did think to encourage you a bit more to go. My only intention was to spare you any awkwardness." Elrond sighed. "You know how it has been with the Dwarf kingdoms for quite some time now. And I do know how difficult it can be when relations become strained with former allies and the descendants of those who were dear friends."
"And you thought my taking a journey to look at the remains of Ost-in-Edhil would be less difficult?" Erestor asked dryly.
"No. But one option was more likely to be cathartic than the other. And I think you've needed that for a very long time," Elrond said frankly.
Erestor was silent for a long while, sipping at Elrond's cordial. "You are, of course, correct as usual. Though I hardly need tell you that." He paused, then. "Aside from that, something else is going on here, though. You needn't tell me now, I'll read the official reports tomorrow and you can fill in what's missing after. For now, I'm going to have that hot bath everyone's so enthusiastic about. Lavender and all." He set the cordial glass aside and rose to leave. "And, Elrond, for Eru's sake, please console Lindir that I have never taken part in a kinslaying and don't intend to start with him. After all, he's got until after break of fast tomorrow to set my office to rights."
That evening, Glorfindel sat with Erestor on his settee, sharing a bottle of wine from Erestor's private stock which was, fortunately, safe from the threat of extinction faced by the rest of the cellar.
"So, have you made your judgment?" Glorfindel asked.
"Judgment of what, mellon? Lindir's banishment from my office or the Valley altogether?" Erestor said, all of his customary snarkiness right back where it belonged.
"Oh, I don't doubt he'd be only too happy to banish himself from your office," Glorfindel laughed. "Nor would I be particularly surprised if he himself undertook an errand to Greenwood to plead with Thranduil to send a whole new stock ere mid-winter."
"He'd have better luck stealing gold from a dragon," Erestor grumbled. "His Highness has always been rather… avaricious."
"I did mean about the trip, though," Glorfindel said. "Was it worth it?"
Erestor sighed and sat back. "Yes, I believe it was. For so long, I've forced myself to give it acknowledgment but once a year. I begin to feel it, though, Glorfindel. The days are changing, and I warrant that this pack of Dwarves who just happened in while I was away will have quite a lot to do with it. Elrond is hesitant to speak of their purpose, but something is going to change. Something… big is looming. And mark my words of this, it will involve our little Estel, too. Perhaps we are at the turning of another age. It won't be long until departing is my only choice, along with the few of us who have remained this long."
Glorfindel wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders and together they sat quiet and contemplative for some while.
Then there was a sudden, quiet ragged inhalation from Erestor and Glorfindel turned to see tears trailing unchecked down Erestor's cheeks. "Mellon…," he said comfortingly.
"Do you think he'll be there, when I arrive? Or shall I have to wait more centuries yet? Or shall he ever be released?" Erestor whispered.
"None can say. The ways of the Lords of the West are quite inscrutable," Glorfindel said apologetically. "But, Erestor, I've never heard of one having given more to earn his place in Eldamar. Not even going down with a Balrog."
"I would have no solace even in the West if I may never see him again, Glorfindel…," Erestor wept.
"I should think that quite unlikely." Glorfindel guided Erestor's head to rest on his shoulder. There were likely to be quite a number of tears yet to come, for reopening old wounds, even for healing, was never anything but agonizing.
He had a feeling, though, that these healing tears would be much easier to handle than the ones sure to come when Erestor saw the state of his office in the morning.