Disclaimer: I don't own anything Tolkien owns and I'm not making any profit
off of this
Summary: The House of Elrond as they wait for the War, before the Fellowship stays at Rivendell. Features Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, Lindir, etc.
Author's Note: Wouldn't you think that they would get a little credit? But no, they don't, sadly. I'm not totally sure where this is going (don't even know if there's a real plot, but..)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In Rivendell
Chapter I
It was a pleasant morning as Erestor stood on a balcony looking over the fair valley of Imladris, listening to the music created by the singing of birds, the multiple sounds of water and the rustling of leaves caught in the wind. Imladris, or Rivendell in the Common Tongue, was a beautiful valley with Elven buildings artistically designed and placed, so that the Home of Elrond became almost as one with nature. As was wont with most Elven structures.
He had always loved strategically designed works of art, or any work of art for that matter. It could include words, architecture, phrases, the art of fighting, and much anything else. Evil, darkness and death could even be considered a type of art. Life and light could also be put in that category, and all of these things were fascinating to him. Everything was art, and everything was beautiful in it's own way. Glorfindel had always teased him, saying that he thought too much. But sometimes, he wondered, if maybe his love of designs, and his love of thinking got him the position as Elrond's Chief Advisor. He did not know, and many things are wondrous to him.
His keen Elven-ears picked up the sound of soft footfalls, guessing whom it might be he continued looking out. After a moment the newcomer came to stand next to him, and it was exactly who he had suspected, Glorfindel.
"You are up fairly early I see," Glorfindel stood at his right side and placed a hand on the delicately made handrail.
"It could hardly be called early, honestly," Erestor turned to face his golden-haired friend.
"True," Glorfindel said as he too looked out across the hidden valley of Imladris.
There was a calm and familiar silence as the two friends looked across their home, they would often do this, just watching the familiar setting of the home that they had lived in and came to love for centuries.
Erestor continued to watch, enjoying the beautiful scenery before him and the peaceful feeling of having his friend nearby, delighting in the same pleasant sights, sounds, and the relaxing and healing air by nature that surrounded the whole area.
After a moment Erestor turned to see Glorfindel's brow furrowed, "Glorfindel?"
"Erestor," Glorfindel paused, "do you smell smoke?"
Erestor was a bit confused, why would his friend pick up smoke. He was just about to ask when he picked up a not necessarily unpleasant aroma.
"It smells like smoke," Glorfindel said as he looked around, trying to find its originated source.
"I think it is pipe-weed," Erestor remarked as he recognized the scent.
"But the only ones to smoke the weed are Gandalf, Aragorn," Glorfindel looked down from the balcony, "and Bilbo."
Erestor looked down too, "Bilbo never seems to smoke upon this side, I wonder why he chose this spot."
"It is very unfortunate," Glorfindel said.
"Very," Erestor agreed. The two counselors of the House of Elrond, along with several other Elves, never understood the art of smoking pipe-weed. To them, it seemed quite unreasonable to be inhaling smoke. Goodness knows how much damage fire and smoke had done in the past, so why inhale it intentionally? Erestor could not begin to comprehend.
"Have you broken fast already?" Glorfindel asked, causing Erestor to have a turn on his course of thoughts.
"Not yet," Erestor had been upon the balcony, gazing across the fair valley the whole time he had been awake.
"Well, while our dear Bilbo smokes his pipe, we could be enjoying our morning meal," Glorfindel suggested.
"That sounds like a good idea," Erestor said as he and Glorfindel left the balcony and headed for the dining hall.
On their way to the dining hall, Erestor took the time to appreciate the magnificence of Elvish architecture. Though designed and built for military causes during the time of the High King Gil-Galad, the House of Elrond was amazingly beautiful. It's columns made into pictures of nature, the living earth carved into stone. It could easily be seen that the House of Elrond was of a special beauty in itself that could not be matched, except possibly in Valinor. Rivendell, a valley fair, with its roaring falls and singing fountains, its towering and whispering trees, and its tall and majestic mountains in the distance. The calm and peaceful air, and the warm and firm earth, one of the full beauties made by the Valar, and upon it was the craft of the Elves. But by the sheltering of all the free races, was it ever perfected.
There were paintings upon the walls, some Elven and some mortal. Both sorts were beautiful, but each in its own way. The Elven paintings trapped beauty, a true picture, mostly of nature, but there was something that it lacked but could be found in the paintings of Men. The paintings done by mortals had feeling and a desire of hope; they expressed what the painter had felt. In this way did the paintings of Men exceed that of the Elves, but paintings of mortals could not surpass the skill in art of the Elder kindred. Erestor thought that this was so because of time upon Arda, whereas Elves were immortal, Men were not and their time was comparatively short. Therefore the desire to have works made by their hands last through the ages, and that their name would last through the generations, they had put some of themselves within their work. In this way did they differ much from the Elves, who had an eternity to perfect or change their works. The Elves needn't worry if their works did not survive the ages, for they could always create new ones that would last through that time. But still, that was not always true for all of the Elves. Some of the greatest of them had been lost, as Feanor, creator of the Silmarils and the greatest of the Noldor, and Celebrimbor, a descendant of Feanor, and another creator of wondrous works.*
Entering the dining hall they met with the Lord Elrond, the Lady Arwen, and several others. After inclining their heads to their Lord and Lady in respect, the two Elf-lords took their seats.
"Where is Lindir?" Glorfindel asked after looking around the hall.
"I believe he is outside, working on a new song no doubt," the Lady Arwen answered Glorfindel's question.
Lindir was the renowned minstrel of the House of Elrond, and was always coming up with new ideas and songs. Erestor held much respect for the minstrel, though Lindir could be very childish at times. But in times of counsel, Lindir could bubble with bizarre, but quite true, facts and words of wisdom.
Taking a piece of bread dipped in honey, Erestor listened to the conversations around him as he ate.
"So, where were you Glorfindel? We could not find you yester noon," Elrond asked his golden-haired friend.
"I went riding near the ford," was the Elf-lord's nonchalant reply.
"Did you go with anyone?" Elrond asked, though the answer should be very obvious to anyone who knew Glorfindel.
"Asfaloth."
This answer was not surprising, since Asfaloth was Glorfindel's best non- Elf companion. Elrond just smiled to himself and continued conversing with his talkative friend, unlike Erestor, who was a bit quiet by personality. The Lady Arwen left her father and the two counselors to converse, without her presence.
The conversation between Lord Elrond and Glorfindel continued, with Erestor joining in every once in a while. Their conversation was at first a bit nonchalant, then it turned into politics, and then into more serious matters.
"Elrond, when will Gandalf arrive? He did not grant us with the exact date, as he rarely ever does, but he should have arrived by now, or has some important means of errantry delayed him?" Glorfindel asked the two equally unknowing Elf lords.
"I know not," was Elrond's answer, almost said in a whisper, as he looked around the room, satisfied that there were no unwanted Elven ears listening, or eavesdropping, into their conversation.
Noticing their lord's eyes wander, Glorfindel and Erestor quickly finished the morning meal and the three Elven-lords headed for Elrond's study. Where they were quite certain that there would be no unwanted ears, for they did not wish to arouse suspicion or rumors.
Closing the door to the study, Erestor watched as Elrond went to stand next to the window.
"Well?" Glorfindel asked the slightly distressed Lord of Imladris.
"Gandalf should be here, or at least near our borders," was the reply.
"Did he not go to the Shire? To see Bilbo's cousin, Frodo?*" Erestor asked.
"Aye, he did. But he also told me that he would head to Isengard, if he abandoned this idea, I have received no information," Elrond sounded worried and a bit confused, and Erestor noticed that his lord was playing with some hidden thing upon his finger.*
"But if Gandalf has chosen not to go to Saruman in Isengard, whither would he go?" Glorfindel asked, sinking onto a nearby chair, his hands folded together.
Erestor looked at Glorfindel, and then Elrond "there could not possibly be trouble near Isengard, could there?"
Glorfindel too looked at his lord. Elrond seemed oblivious to the apt gazes of two of his most trusted advisors, his eyes were clouded, and he seemed as if he were lost in some dream or vision.
"Elrond?" Glorfindel asked, worried for his lord, "surely there would not be trouble near Isengard, Saruman is head of the White Council, and is an ally. Would not his power be enforced within that area, or if there was some disturbance, would he not tell us?"
Elrond was silent, giving no reply to Glorfindel's question.
"Saruman is a trustworthy ally, or is he?" Erestor asked, not wholly sure if there would be a straight answer.
Elrond sighed, "I do not truly know. But his councils I deem wise, and he is an ally against the Dark Lord. So I believe it would be safe to consider him a trustworthy ally, as well as an important one."
Satisfied with Elrond's answer, Erestor asked, "but what of Estel?"
"I believe he is up north, near the Shire, or with the rest of the Northern Dunedain" Glorfindel answered.
"Do you know when he will return?"
Glorfindel shook his head, "I do not, but his return should be near."
About to inquire more of Estel's whereabouts, Erestor stopped as Elrond spoke. "Mayhap we should leave this matter at a pause, for now. If neither Gandalf nor Estel arrive, a council will be called. Perhaps we will find more answers then, but I desire this delay to not be discussed and kept at heart too closely. The Valar know what theories or assumptions shall arise were this information to be known to the rest of Imladris."
Nodding, the two Elf-lords left the room to leave their lord to himself.
Erestor and Glorfindel then went their separate ways, Glorfindel to the stables and Erestor to the library.
Walking upon the many rows of books, stacked neatly upon the shelves, Erestor quickly skimmed the titles of the many volumes. Coming across a section that seemed slightly more interesting, Erestor began paying more attention to the books before him. Finding a book with no title, he pulled it out of its spot and opened it. The cover of the book was of dull red leather, and there was no wording upon it. Flipping through some of the pages he discovered that it was a journal, but he did not know whom it was written by, for there was no name upon it, not the front cover or the back.
Deciding to read it when he had more time, Erestor put it back and continued to search for another interesting book. Having read many, if not most, of the heaps of tomes and volumes contained within Rivendell's libraries, there were not many new interesting choices to truly choose from.
Continuing his search he though about the talk on Isengard a while back. He wondered where Gandalf had went, had the Wizard gone to Isengard as he had said? Or did he travel to some other area? Was he delayed, or had something happened to him? These thoughts occupied his mind, and they continued to do so.
Saruman, Erestor trusted the head of the White Council, surely he would have no evil intentions towards the Elves. But, Galadriel had always though it better if it were Gandalf that was head of the White Council, did the Lady of the Wood suspect anything from Saruman the White? Thinking upon it, Galadriel had been quite clear that she wished Gandalf to be leader of the White Council, but had agreed upon Saruman when Gandalf the Grey had politely said he had no desire for that position and that he would not be the best choice, for he did not stay in one place or region for any long period of time.
But where was Gandalf? He should be within Imladris by this time, or at least near the borders. But there had been no sign of the Wizard, and it was still too early to be certain of anything. Another thing was Estel; he should be up north, probably in or near the Shire. He should return soon, Erestor thought. For he would come back to the place of his childhood every once and a while, remembering the times of his happy childhood, the place where he had spent days upon days, and years upon years of dreaming. Dreaming of heroism, dreaming of journeys, of places far away. Little did he know that this was his destiny, and that travels and journeys were not as wonderful as they at first seemed.
Estel was a bright child, Erestor knew, for the Dunadan, as a child, had been his student. Erestor knew that Estel was wise; he had been so since he was a child. Using his wisdom, cunning, and Elvish training he had caused mischief whenever he had the chance as a young child. Erestor did not doubt that Estel's sense of mischief was encouraged, or influenced, by the Sons of Elrond. Elladan and Elrohir were two troublemakers, and they just had to teach their foster brother their ways. Erestor smiled slightly at some of the memories, of the mischief, or as some prefer to call havoc, that Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel had caused.
Though the three had at first seemed such a pain, which they were, depending upon how one wished to view it. Now looking back Erestor found that the memories amused him. Estel had grown so fast, though generations of the heirs of Isildur were raised at Rivendell, Erestor still could not get used to the fact that Men, mortals, aged so fast, and could die at old age. It made him a bit grateful to be immortal, but he still did not know if mortality was a gift or a curse. In some cases it seemed as a curse, but at times it was a gift, the gift Iluvatar granted the Secondborn. But it still seemed to Erestor that mortals aged too quickly, they grew so fast, and learned so fast.
Erestor knew that Estel, who was truly Aragorn son of Arathorn, would live probably thrice or more the time of an average mortal, being the heir of Isildur, and therefore having Elvish blood. He figured that he should be grateful for the memories and moments that he had with him, though he was not as close with him as Glorfindel was. The relationship between Estel and Erestor was more of a tutor and pupil, they were close, but a certain distance was maintained. Erestor thought that keeping some distance was good, for it would save him some pain when Estel passed on to wherever mortal souls went. But being close with a mortal was not a bad thing, this Erestor knew, friendship with many was important, and the Elven-lord admitted that one could not help but like Estel. Though the child was a troublemaker, he had certain qualities that attracted others, qualities that one could not help but like or love.
Through Estel's father, and his father, and the others before him, Erestor knew that he must cherish the memories he had, for the time of Men upon Arda was relatively short, and he learned that memories were all that you would have left after a time. This was why Erestor cherished almost every memory he had of Estel, as a child, growing into manhood, and as a man. Elrond suspected that the war with Sauron would happen soon, and the Lord of Rivendell suspected that the Heir of Isildur would be put to the test, to do as his forefather had done, or to do what his forefather could not do. But Erestor did not know, to him it was still a bit early to tell, but he could sense the time drawing nearer, and he could not help but agree with Elrond that the seeming inevitable war with Sauron was drawing near.
Aragorn and the fathers before him made Erestor understand more of the beauty of life, and of death. It amazed the Chief Councilor of Elrond that one could change so dramatically within a couple of years, this was seldom true in Elves, but it was not necessarily so in Men. Erestor had discovered that some mortals could become a whole new person, as one reborn and given a second chance, within a matter of months, weeks, and even days. The quick changes he found in mortals influenced his own thinking; it gave him more understanding, and a mind open to many opinions. Erestor admitted that at times he could be a bit small minded, but after several years, he would look back at his actions and smile, his time upon Arda had taught him that many of his own actions were quite silly. So he now tried to avoid making mistakes, for now was a time of importance, or so his heart tells him. Now was a time when one mistake could change much, though some mistakes would change nothing, this was a time to be careful.
Thinking about mortals, Erestor soon found that he had come to the section on Numenor. Not truly knowing how he had come to the section on Estel's ancestors, Erestor read the titles and tried to find something that might be interesting, or something that he had not read before.
He remembered the Faithful of Numenor, though shunned by the majority of the rest of the Numenorians, there was something about them. The Faithful were full of hope, and were full of faith, and these two qualities stood tall within them during time of darkness.
There were various types of books within this section, accounts on all of the Kings and Queens of old, of Elendil, Anarion, and Isildur. Finally choosing a book on Elendil, Erestor went over to a table where some of the morning light had touched he began reading.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* I'm not sure if Erestor would know that Celebrimbor made the Three
*Frodo is Bilbo's cousin, says so in "Fellowship of the Ring"
*Anyone know which hand (left, right) Vilya was on? It just says finger in "Return of the King" page 1005
*Not sure if Erestor would know of Vilya
*It doesn't say in the section 'Of The Rings of Power and the Third Age' in the "Silmarillion" that Elrond suspected Saruman, it was just that his heart misgave him when they did not act quickly, and he foretold that the One would be found
*Don't know if either Glorfindel or Erestor is on the White Council, the Silmarillion just says Elrond, Galadriel, Cirdan, and other lords of the Eldar
-The guy that played Erestor looked (there's no other word for it) freaky, the close-up picture(s) anyways. Are they sure he's Erestor? No Glorfindel in movie, don't know if that's a good or a bad thing.
Sorry if I got any of the facts mixed up, I'm trying to stick to canon as closely as possible
Please review, constructive criticism welcome.
Summary: The House of Elrond as they wait for the War, before the Fellowship stays at Rivendell. Features Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, Lindir, etc.
Author's Note: Wouldn't you think that they would get a little credit? But no, they don't, sadly. I'm not totally sure where this is going (don't even know if there's a real plot, but..)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In Rivendell
Chapter I
It was a pleasant morning as Erestor stood on a balcony looking over the fair valley of Imladris, listening to the music created by the singing of birds, the multiple sounds of water and the rustling of leaves caught in the wind. Imladris, or Rivendell in the Common Tongue, was a beautiful valley with Elven buildings artistically designed and placed, so that the Home of Elrond became almost as one with nature. As was wont with most Elven structures.
He had always loved strategically designed works of art, or any work of art for that matter. It could include words, architecture, phrases, the art of fighting, and much anything else. Evil, darkness and death could even be considered a type of art. Life and light could also be put in that category, and all of these things were fascinating to him. Everything was art, and everything was beautiful in it's own way. Glorfindel had always teased him, saying that he thought too much. But sometimes, he wondered, if maybe his love of designs, and his love of thinking got him the position as Elrond's Chief Advisor. He did not know, and many things are wondrous to him.
His keen Elven-ears picked up the sound of soft footfalls, guessing whom it might be he continued looking out. After a moment the newcomer came to stand next to him, and it was exactly who he had suspected, Glorfindel.
"You are up fairly early I see," Glorfindel stood at his right side and placed a hand on the delicately made handrail.
"It could hardly be called early, honestly," Erestor turned to face his golden-haired friend.
"True," Glorfindel said as he too looked out across the hidden valley of Imladris.
There was a calm and familiar silence as the two friends looked across their home, they would often do this, just watching the familiar setting of the home that they had lived in and came to love for centuries.
Erestor continued to watch, enjoying the beautiful scenery before him and the peaceful feeling of having his friend nearby, delighting in the same pleasant sights, sounds, and the relaxing and healing air by nature that surrounded the whole area.
After a moment Erestor turned to see Glorfindel's brow furrowed, "Glorfindel?"
"Erestor," Glorfindel paused, "do you smell smoke?"
Erestor was a bit confused, why would his friend pick up smoke. He was just about to ask when he picked up a not necessarily unpleasant aroma.
"It smells like smoke," Glorfindel said as he looked around, trying to find its originated source.
"I think it is pipe-weed," Erestor remarked as he recognized the scent.
"But the only ones to smoke the weed are Gandalf, Aragorn," Glorfindel looked down from the balcony, "and Bilbo."
Erestor looked down too, "Bilbo never seems to smoke upon this side, I wonder why he chose this spot."
"It is very unfortunate," Glorfindel said.
"Very," Erestor agreed. The two counselors of the House of Elrond, along with several other Elves, never understood the art of smoking pipe-weed. To them, it seemed quite unreasonable to be inhaling smoke. Goodness knows how much damage fire and smoke had done in the past, so why inhale it intentionally? Erestor could not begin to comprehend.
"Have you broken fast already?" Glorfindel asked, causing Erestor to have a turn on his course of thoughts.
"Not yet," Erestor had been upon the balcony, gazing across the fair valley the whole time he had been awake.
"Well, while our dear Bilbo smokes his pipe, we could be enjoying our morning meal," Glorfindel suggested.
"That sounds like a good idea," Erestor said as he and Glorfindel left the balcony and headed for the dining hall.
On their way to the dining hall, Erestor took the time to appreciate the magnificence of Elvish architecture. Though designed and built for military causes during the time of the High King Gil-Galad, the House of Elrond was amazingly beautiful. It's columns made into pictures of nature, the living earth carved into stone. It could easily be seen that the House of Elrond was of a special beauty in itself that could not be matched, except possibly in Valinor. Rivendell, a valley fair, with its roaring falls and singing fountains, its towering and whispering trees, and its tall and majestic mountains in the distance. The calm and peaceful air, and the warm and firm earth, one of the full beauties made by the Valar, and upon it was the craft of the Elves. But by the sheltering of all the free races, was it ever perfected.
There were paintings upon the walls, some Elven and some mortal. Both sorts were beautiful, but each in its own way. The Elven paintings trapped beauty, a true picture, mostly of nature, but there was something that it lacked but could be found in the paintings of Men. The paintings done by mortals had feeling and a desire of hope; they expressed what the painter had felt. In this way did the paintings of Men exceed that of the Elves, but paintings of mortals could not surpass the skill in art of the Elder kindred. Erestor thought that this was so because of time upon Arda, whereas Elves were immortal, Men were not and their time was comparatively short. Therefore the desire to have works made by their hands last through the ages, and that their name would last through the generations, they had put some of themselves within their work. In this way did they differ much from the Elves, who had an eternity to perfect or change their works. The Elves needn't worry if their works did not survive the ages, for they could always create new ones that would last through that time. But still, that was not always true for all of the Elves. Some of the greatest of them had been lost, as Feanor, creator of the Silmarils and the greatest of the Noldor, and Celebrimbor, a descendant of Feanor, and another creator of wondrous works.*
Entering the dining hall they met with the Lord Elrond, the Lady Arwen, and several others. After inclining their heads to their Lord and Lady in respect, the two Elf-lords took their seats.
"Where is Lindir?" Glorfindel asked after looking around the hall.
"I believe he is outside, working on a new song no doubt," the Lady Arwen answered Glorfindel's question.
Lindir was the renowned minstrel of the House of Elrond, and was always coming up with new ideas and songs. Erestor held much respect for the minstrel, though Lindir could be very childish at times. But in times of counsel, Lindir could bubble with bizarre, but quite true, facts and words of wisdom.
Taking a piece of bread dipped in honey, Erestor listened to the conversations around him as he ate.
"So, where were you Glorfindel? We could not find you yester noon," Elrond asked his golden-haired friend.
"I went riding near the ford," was the Elf-lord's nonchalant reply.
"Did you go with anyone?" Elrond asked, though the answer should be very obvious to anyone who knew Glorfindel.
"Asfaloth."
This answer was not surprising, since Asfaloth was Glorfindel's best non- Elf companion. Elrond just smiled to himself and continued conversing with his talkative friend, unlike Erestor, who was a bit quiet by personality. The Lady Arwen left her father and the two counselors to converse, without her presence.
The conversation between Lord Elrond and Glorfindel continued, with Erestor joining in every once in a while. Their conversation was at first a bit nonchalant, then it turned into politics, and then into more serious matters.
"Elrond, when will Gandalf arrive? He did not grant us with the exact date, as he rarely ever does, but he should have arrived by now, or has some important means of errantry delayed him?" Glorfindel asked the two equally unknowing Elf lords.
"I know not," was Elrond's answer, almost said in a whisper, as he looked around the room, satisfied that there were no unwanted Elven ears listening, or eavesdropping, into their conversation.
Noticing their lord's eyes wander, Glorfindel and Erestor quickly finished the morning meal and the three Elven-lords headed for Elrond's study. Where they were quite certain that there would be no unwanted ears, for they did not wish to arouse suspicion or rumors.
Closing the door to the study, Erestor watched as Elrond went to stand next to the window.
"Well?" Glorfindel asked the slightly distressed Lord of Imladris.
"Gandalf should be here, or at least near our borders," was the reply.
"Did he not go to the Shire? To see Bilbo's cousin, Frodo?*" Erestor asked.
"Aye, he did. But he also told me that he would head to Isengard, if he abandoned this idea, I have received no information," Elrond sounded worried and a bit confused, and Erestor noticed that his lord was playing with some hidden thing upon his finger.*
"But if Gandalf has chosen not to go to Saruman in Isengard, whither would he go?" Glorfindel asked, sinking onto a nearby chair, his hands folded together.
Erestor looked at Glorfindel, and then Elrond "there could not possibly be trouble near Isengard, could there?"
Glorfindel too looked at his lord. Elrond seemed oblivious to the apt gazes of two of his most trusted advisors, his eyes were clouded, and he seemed as if he were lost in some dream or vision.
"Elrond?" Glorfindel asked, worried for his lord, "surely there would not be trouble near Isengard, Saruman is head of the White Council, and is an ally. Would not his power be enforced within that area, or if there was some disturbance, would he not tell us?"
Elrond was silent, giving no reply to Glorfindel's question.
"Saruman is a trustworthy ally, or is he?" Erestor asked, not wholly sure if there would be a straight answer.
Elrond sighed, "I do not truly know. But his councils I deem wise, and he is an ally against the Dark Lord. So I believe it would be safe to consider him a trustworthy ally, as well as an important one."
Satisfied with Elrond's answer, Erestor asked, "but what of Estel?"
"I believe he is up north, near the Shire, or with the rest of the Northern Dunedain" Glorfindel answered.
"Do you know when he will return?"
Glorfindel shook his head, "I do not, but his return should be near."
About to inquire more of Estel's whereabouts, Erestor stopped as Elrond spoke. "Mayhap we should leave this matter at a pause, for now. If neither Gandalf nor Estel arrive, a council will be called. Perhaps we will find more answers then, but I desire this delay to not be discussed and kept at heart too closely. The Valar know what theories or assumptions shall arise were this information to be known to the rest of Imladris."
Nodding, the two Elf-lords left the room to leave their lord to himself.
Erestor and Glorfindel then went their separate ways, Glorfindel to the stables and Erestor to the library.
Walking upon the many rows of books, stacked neatly upon the shelves, Erestor quickly skimmed the titles of the many volumes. Coming across a section that seemed slightly more interesting, Erestor began paying more attention to the books before him. Finding a book with no title, he pulled it out of its spot and opened it. The cover of the book was of dull red leather, and there was no wording upon it. Flipping through some of the pages he discovered that it was a journal, but he did not know whom it was written by, for there was no name upon it, not the front cover or the back.
Deciding to read it when he had more time, Erestor put it back and continued to search for another interesting book. Having read many, if not most, of the heaps of tomes and volumes contained within Rivendell's libraries, there were not many new interesting choices to truly choose from.
Continuing his search he though about the talk on Isengard a while back. He wondered where Gandalf had went, had the Wizard gone to Isengard as he had said? Or did he travel to some other area? Was he delayed, or had something happened to him? These thoughts occupied his mind, and they continued to do so.
Saruman, Erestor trusted the head of the White Council, surely he would have no evil intentions towards the Elves. But, Galadriel had always though it better if it were Gandalf that was head of the White Council, did the Lady of the Wood suspect anything from Saruman the White? Thinking upon it, Galadriel had been quite clear that she wished Gandalf to be leader of the White Council, but had agreed upon Saruman when Gandalf the Grey had politely said he had no desire for that position and that he would not be the best choice, for he did not stay in one place or region for any long period of time.
But where was Gandalf? He should be within Imladris by this time, or at least near the borders. But there had been no sign of the Wizard, and it was still too early to be certain of anything. Another thing was Estel; he should be up north, probably in or near the Shire. He should return soon, Erestor thought. For he would come back to the place of his childhood every once and a while, remembering the times of his happy childhood, the place where he had spent days upon days, and years upon years of dreaming. Dreaming of heroism, dreaming of journeys, of places far away. Little did he know that this was his destiny, and that travels and journeys were not as wonderful as they at first seemed.
Estel was a bright child, Erestor knew, for the Dunadan, as a child, had been his student. Erestor knew that Estel was wise; he had been so since he was a child. Using his wisdom, cunning, and Elvish training he had caused mischief whenever he had the chance as a young child. Erestor did not doubt that Estel's sense of mischief was encouraged, or influenced, by the Sons of Elrond. Elladan and Elrohir were two troublemakers, and they just had to teach their foster brother their ways. Erestor smiled slightly at some of the memories, of the mischief, or as some prefer to call havoc, that Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel had caused.
Though the three had at first seemed such a pain, which they were, depending upon how one wished to view it. Now looking back Erestor found that the memories amused him. Estel had grown so fast, though generations of the heirs of Isildur were raised at Rivendell, Erestor still could not get used to the fact that Men, mortals, aged so fast, and could die at old age. It made him a bit grateful to be immortal, but he still did not know if mortality was a gift or a curse. In some cases it seemed as a curse, but at times it was a gift, the gift Iluvatar granted the Secondborn. But it still seemed to Erestor that mortals aged too quickly, they grew so fast, and learned so fast.
Erestor knew that Estel, who was truly Aragorn son of Arathorn, would live probably thrice or more the time of an average mortal, being the heir of Isildur, and therefore having Elvish blood. He figured that he should be grateful for the memories and moments that he had with him, though he was not as close with him as Glorfindel was. The relationship between Estel and Erestor was more of a tutor and pupil, they were close, but a certain distance was maintained. Erestor thought that keeping some distance was good, for it would save him some pain when Estel passed on to wherever mortal souls went. But being close with a mortal was not a bad thing, this Erestor knew, friendship with many was important, and the Elven-lord admitted that one could not help but like Estel. Though the child was a troublemaker, he had certain qualities that attracted others, qualities that one could not help but like or love.
Through Estel's father, and his father, and the others before him, Erestor knew that he must cherish the memories he had, for the time of Men upon Arda was relatively short, and he learned that memories were all that you would have left after a time. This was why Erestor cherished almost every memory he had of Estel, as a child, growing into manhood, and as a man. Elrond suspected that the war with Sauron would happen soon, and the Lord of Rivendell suspected that the Heir of Isildur would be put to the test, to do as his forefather had done, or to do what his forefather could not do. But Erestor did not know, to him it was still a bit early to tell, but he could sense the time drawing nearer, and he could not help but agree with Elrond that the seeming inevitable war with Sauron was drawing near.
Aragorn and the fathers before him made Erestor understand more of the beauty of life, and of death. It amazed the Chief Councilor of Elrond that one could change so dramatically within a couple of years, this was seldom true in Elves, but it was not necessarily so in Men. Erestor had discovered that some mortals could become a whole new person, as one reborn and given a second chance, within a matter of months, weeks, and even days. The quick changes he found in mortals influenced his own thinking; it gave him more understanding, and a mind open to many opinions. Erestor admitted that at times he could be a bit small minded, but after several years, he would look back at his actions and smile, his time upon Arda had taught him that many of his own actions were quite silly. So he now tried to avoid making mistakes, for now was a time of importance, or so his heart tells him. Now was a time when one mistake could change much, though some mistakes would change nothing, this was a time to be careful.
Thinking about mortals, Erestor soon found that he had come to the section on Numenor. Not truly knowing how he had come to the section on Estel's ancestors, Erestor read the titles and tried to find something that might be interesting, or something that he had not read before.
He remembered the Faithful of Numenor, though shunned by the majority of the rest of the Numenorians, there was something about them. The Faithful were full of hope, and were full of faith, and these two qualities stood tall within them during time of darkness.
There were various types of books within this section, accounts on all of the Kings and Queens of old, of Elendil, Anarion, and Isildur. Finally choosing a book on Elendil, Erestor went over to a table where some of the morning light had touched he began reading.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* I'm not sure if Erestor would know that Celebrimbor made the Three
*Frodo is Bilbo's cousin, says so in "Fellowship of the Ring"
*Anyone know which hand (left, right) Vilya was on? It just says finger in "Return of the King" page 1005
*Not sure if Erestor would know of Vilya
*It doesn't say in the section 'Of The Rings of Power and the Third Age' in the "Silmarillion" that Elrond suspected Saruman, it was just that his heart misgave him when they did not act quickly, and he foretold that the One would be found
*Don't know if either Glorfindel or Erestor is on the White Council, the Silmarillion just says Elrond, Galadriel, Cirdan, and other lords of the Eldar
-The guy that played Erestor looked (there's no other word for it) freaky, the close-up picture(s) anyways. Are they sure he's Erestor? No Glorfindel in movie, don't know if that's a good or a bad thing.
Sorry if I got any of the facts mixed up, I'm trying to stick to canon as closely as possible
Please review, constructive criticism welcome.