Chapter 9
Lindir hummed a tune as he walked through his beloved kitchen, overseeing the meticulous cleanup after the feast. He was carrying a stack of clean platters that needed to be put away when he heard a peculiar sound coming from the direction of the wine cellar. He raised a brow when he thought he heard loud thumps and what sounded like muffled shouts.
He set his platters down on a counter and ventured close to the door, his gaze narrowed in vexation as he wondered if Glorfindel had been pilfering from it again. Lindir grabbed a rolling pin from a shelf and held it aloft as he closed in on the door, which someone was desperately trying to break down from the other side.
He could see the iron hinges rattling and heard someone shout, but it did not sound like the golden Vanya. Lindir gasped when he recognized the voice and unbolted the door, which swung open and slammed against the wall. Lord Elrond stood in the doorway, panting, with a look of burning hatred in his eyes.
"My Lord Elrond?" Lindir blinked as he lowered his rolling pin. "What are you—?"
"Where is Glorfindel?" the Elf lord shouted as he barged past the startled Lindir. "Where did he go?"
"Glorfindel, my lord?" Lindir startled as he rushed to catch up with Elrond's impatient stride. "He was here?"
"Yes! That incompetent Vanya was in here, pilfering wine for Ereiniel it seemed," he said, scanning the kitchen before heading out the back door and into the garden. "No doubt he is racing back to her as we speak and will likely move her to another location."
"Forgive me, Lord Elrond I don't understand all that is happen—what happened to my herb patch!" Lindir suddenly shouted, his voice ringing through the night air.
Clods of dirt were strewn about the once tidy rows of peppermint, chamomile, and meadowsweet, and some of the herbs had been completely wiped out. Others had been chewed up and spat back out. Lindir looked to the kitchen gate, which swung miserably from busted hinges, and turned red with rage.
He looked to Elrond, and a silent understanding passed between them. Lindir gripped his rolling pin as he marched behind Elrond, out of the garden, and towards the stables.
"Where to my lord?" Lindir asked as they saddled their horses. "Do you have any idea where he has gone?"
"The Bluebell Woods are where we'll begin our search," Elrond said. "I know that is where he took her, but if they are gone by the time we get there, we should look for Erestor. I sent him ahead and he is the best tracker amongst us."
"Indeed he is," Lindir agreed as they mounted their horses and left the stables. "With your permission my lord, I should very much like his punishment to include a year's worth of pruning, on top of the general repairs to my garden."
"We shall simply add it to the list," Elrond said as they rode out into the darkness. "Whilst I was, imprisoned, I started writing one in my head. One that will take him an age to complete."
Lindir almost felt sorry for Glorfindel as he beheld the festering fury that the half-Elf possessed. Lindir suspected that his contrived punishment was nothing compared to what Lord Elrond had in mind. He could easily imagine the Vanya cleaning bedpans in the infirmary for the next thousand years, among other unpleasant tasks.
Well, at least no one could say that Glorfindel didn't deserve what was coming to him.
