A/N: Not much to put here this time, except for THANK YOU for the reviews,
as always!
Part 3:
"Hey you! Hey now, wake up. This isn't any inn we're running here!"
Elrohir groaned as his eyes fluttered open. Daylight diffused into the hayloft where he had slept the night, though the rain still pelted the roof outside. His eyes focused on a Man standing over him, prodding him with the blunt end of a pitchfork.
Elrohir's eyes widened like a frightened deer and he bolted up onto his feet. The world swam in front of him for a few moments before he fell again into the soft hay. He forgot the Man for a moment as he fought the urge to faint outright.
"Hey, easy now. I didn't mean to frighten you, son," the Man said gently, though he still kept his distance.
Elrohir looked up at the Man. He was old, Elrohir would guess, though he could not tell by the way Men counted years. His features were strong, but his hair was a shock of white with only a few darker gray strands to color it. Still, his dark eyes were piercing in a way that suggested a wisdom that only experience could provide.
"I am sorry, sir, for invading your stables," Elrohir said, quietly gathering his things. He felt dizzy again, and must have swayed because the Man held out a hand to steady him.
"No harm done, there. These aren't my stables you're invading anyway," he said. "Sit down before you fall down and rest a moment. You look like you've had a rough night at best."
Elrohir sat on a bale of hay and nodded slowly. "Yes. I have traveled far from my home," he said. "It was raining and I sought shelter, but I could find none in town. I thought that I could be awake and gone from here before anyone noticed," Elrohir admitted.
"Well, you didn't," the gruff Man said. "And now you're in no condition to leave, that's for sure. When's the last time you had a decent meal, boy?"
Elrohir thought back. "A few days," he said. "Perhaps a week." He himself had not realized how long it had been since he had eaten a full meal.
"And how far were you thinking of getting today?"
Elrohir shook his head. "Until I found work," he said.
The Man looked him up and down. "You look strong enough, once we get some food into you," he mused aloud. "How old are you anyway."
Elrohir didn't know what to say. He was far older than this Man, that was for sure, but he was supposed to be a Man too. How old did he look? Oh, he should have asked Elladan before he left!
"Twenty," Elrohir said, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out how he had come up with that number.
"Nonsense!" the Man spat. Elrohir shut his eyes, expecting to be told he looked at least fifty or sixty. "Maybe you could pass for eighteen, but I'd wager closer to sixteen," the Man said.
Elrohir let out his breath. This pretending wasn't so hard after all. "Yes," he said, "You're right."
The Man laughed, though it sounded more like the bark of some large hound. "My name's Derek, and if you come with me we'll see about getting some breakfast."
Elrohir eyed him warily, wondering what this Man wanted from him in return. "I haven't any money at all," he said, not wanting to be embarrassed as he was at the inn the night before.
"Can you handle horses," Derek asked.
"Yes," Elrohir said. He was quickly becoming the best horsemaster in Imladris, in fact.
"Then I'll trade you a day's meals for a day's work."
Elrohir didn't know how to respond. He merely nodded and allowed Derek to guide him out of the hayloft. There was still no one around, though the horses now looked at him with more interest than they had the night before. Derek led him out of the stables through the main door and not through the side door Elrohir had entered through the night before. Elrohir gasped as he saw that the stables were part of a large manor, with the main building close by. He did not see the stone and wood building the night before due to the thick rain and his own exhaustion.
Derek eyed Elrohir warily for a moment. "As you can tell, I am not the Lord of this house," he said, chuckling a bit.
"Who is the Lord here, if I may ask?" Elrohir said.
"Lord Boromir," Derek replied. "He rules the province. You must be from far away if you have not heard of him."
"No, indeed not, sir," Elrohir said. He was saved from explaining his origins as they entered through a plain door to find themselves in a large kitchen. Several women were bustling about preparing food and cleaning. A rather large woman in faded red skits and a white apron turned around to face them.
"What have you got there, Derek? That's a funny lookin' colt if I've ever seen one!"
Derek smiled and pushed Elrohir in front of him. "Not a colt, dear Cook. He's far too skinny to be one of the horses here. See to it that he's fed up a bit."
The woman quickly had Elrohir sitting at a small wooden table by the cooking fire with a large plate in front of him. "And what are you doing here, dear?" she asked him sweetly.
Elrohir didn't know how to respond, as he himself didn't know what his role was. "He's the new stable boy," Derek said gruffly. "He'll be staying in the barn and lookin' after the horses at night."
"And does he speak and have a name?" the cook asked, looking at Elrohir.
"Elrohir, my lady," he said quietly, keeping his eyes down.
"Lady indeed!" the cook huffed. "Call me Sarah, or Cook as most here do! Though I don't mind your pretty manners for a change."
Elrohir blushed. Derek saved him from further embarrassment by hauling him to his feet as soon as he saw that the plate was empty. "Alright, boy, let's get you back to the stables and show you around!"
Elrohir followed him willingly, thanking Elbereth for his stroke of luck.
Part 3:
"Hey you! Hey now, wake up. This isn't any inn we're running here!"
Elrohir groaned as his eyes fluttered open. Daylight diffused into the hayloft where he had slept the night, though the rain still pelted the roof outside. His eyes focused on a Man standing over him, prodding him with the blunt end of a pitchfork.
Elrohir's eyes widened like a frightened deer and he bolted up onto his feet. The world swam in front of him for a few moments before he fell again into the soft hay. He forgot the Man for a moment as he fought the urge to faint outright.
"Hey, easy now. I didn't mean to frighten you, son," the Man said gently, though he still kept his distance.
Elrohir looked up at the Man. He was old, Elrohir would guess, though he could not tell by the way Men counted years. His features were strong, but his hair was a shock of white with only a few darker gray strands to color it. Still, his dark eyes were piercing in a way that suggested a wisdom that only experience could provide.
"I am sorry, sir, for invading your stables," Elrohir said, quietly gathering his things. He felt dizzy again, and must have swayed because the Man held out a hand to steady him.
"No harm done, there. These aren't my stables you're invading anyway," he said. "Sit down before you fall down and rest a moment. You look like you've had a rough night at best."
Elrohir sat on a bale of hay and nodded slowly. "Yes. I have traveled far from my home," he said. "It was raining and I sought shelter, but I could find none in town. I thought that I could be awake and gone from here before anyone noticed," Elrohir admitted.
"Well, you didn't," the gruff Man said. "And now you're in no condition to leave, that's for sure. When's the last time you had a decent meal, boy?"
Elrohir thought back. "A few days," he said. "Perhaps a week." He himself had not realized how long it had been since he had eaten a full meal.
"And how far were you thinking of getting today?"
Elrohir shook his head. "Until I found work," he said.
The Man looked him up and down. "You look strong enough, once we get some food into you," he mused aloud. "How old are you anyway."
Elrohir didn't know what to say. He was far older than this Man, that was for sure, but he was supposed to be a Man too. How old did he look? Oh, he should have asked Elladan before he left!
"Twenty," Elrohir said, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out how he had come up with that number.
"Nonsense!" the Man spat. Elrohir shut his eyes, expecting to be told he looked at least fifty or sixty. "Maybe you could pass for eighteen, but I'd wager closer to sixteen," the Man said.
Elrohir let out his breath. This pretending wasn't so hard after all. "Yes," he said, "You're right."
The Man laughed, though it sounded more like the bark of some large hound. "My name's Derek, and if you come with me we'll see about getting some breakfast."
Elrohir eyed him warily, wondering what this Man wanted from him in return. "I haven't any money at all," he said, not wanting to be embarrassed as he was at the inn the night before.
"Can you handle horses," Derek asked.
"Yes," Elrohir said. He was quickly becoming the best horsemaster in Imladris, in fact.
"Then I'll trade you a day's meals for a day's work."
Elrohir didn't know how to respond. He merely nodded and allowed Derek to guide him out of the hayloft. There was still no one around, though the horses now looked at him with more interest than they had the night before. Derek led him out of the stables through the main door and not through the side door Elrohir had entered through the night before. Elrohir gasped as he saw that the stables were part of a large manor, with the main building close by. He did not see the stone and wood building the night before due to the thick rain and his own exhaustion.
Derek eyed Elrohir warily for a moment. "As you can tell, I am not the Lord of this house," he said, chuckling a bit.
"Who is the Lord here, if I may ask?" Elrohir said.
"Lord Boromir," Derek replied. "He rules the province. You must be from far away if you have not heard of him."
"No, indeed not, sir," Elrohir said. He was saved from explaining his origins as they entered through a plain door to find themselves in a large kitchen. Several women were bustling about preparing food and cleaning. A rather large woman in faded red skits and a white apron turned around to face them.
"What have you got there, Derek? That's a funny lookin' colt if I've ever seen one!"
Derek smiled and pushed Elrohir in front of him. "Not a colt, dear Cook. He's far too skinny to be one of the horses here. See to it that he's fed up a bit."
The woman quickly had Elrohir sitting at a small wooden table by the cooking fire with a large plate in front of him. "And what are you doing here, dear?" she asked him sweetly.
Elrohir didn't know how to respond, as he himself didn't know what his role was. "He's the new stable boy," Derek said gruffly. "He'll be staying in the barn and lookin' after the horses at night."
"And does he speak and have a name?" the cook asked, looking at Elrohir.
"Elrohir, my lady," he said quietly, keeping his eyes down.
"Lady indeed!" the cook huffed. "Call me Sarah, or Cook as most here do! Though I don't mind your pretty manners for a change."
Elrohir blushed. Derek saved him from further embarrassment by hauling him to his feet as soon as he saw that the plate was empty. "Alright, boy, let's get you back to the stables and show you around!"
Elrohir followed him willingly, thanking Elbereth for his stroke of luck.