A/N: short little part for those of you reading this. It seems like this
story isn't as popular as my other ones, but that's okay. :) Anyway, I'll
get back to Cry of the Eagle and In the Darkness pretty soon and get some
new parts to those up. Thanks for the reviews I've been receiving!!
Oh, and Sky Magic, I'm very partial to chocolate chips. *evil chocolately grin*
Part 4:
Elrohir collapsed into the fragrant hay, exhausted by the day's work. His very bones ached from an entire day of cleaning stalls and hauling heavy bags of grain from one end of the very large stable to the other. He sighed as he saw the sun sinking lower and lower on the horizon. His job included looking after the horses after nightfall and keeping out intruders. He smiled at that thought, remembering how just a few days ago he wandered into the hayloft, shivering and crying.
The work was easy, though he would much prefer the work of the grooms, if he was given the choice. They led the sleek horses out of their stalls for exercise and saddled them for whoever wished to ride. Elrohir was not used to this system at all---in Imladris, the horses were allowed to come and go as they pleased, and none needed a saddle or bridle to be ridden.
Still, Elrohir was happy that the only contact he had during the day was with the grooms, Derek, and Sarah the Cook. It gave him a chance to become accustomed to life around this strange place before he was forced to continue his masquerade in front of wiser and more well-traveled people.
Elrohir pulled up the blanket, letting the soft whickers of the horses settle his mind. He could sleep and stay alert at the same time, in the manner of Elves. This way, at least, he could watch the stable and rest enough to face the next day.
****************
The sun rose over the tops of the trees in the distance, but Elrohir was already awake and working before the grooms even arrived. He was sitting on a barrel in an empty stall with several pieces of tack spread before him. He worked at polishing the metal bits with a soft cloth until they gleamed dully in the early light. There was also oil to keep the leather soft and supple and strong soap to clean it all. The grooms despised this sort of work, and left it for him to do. Elrohir didn't mind at all, and he was beginning to earn himself a reputation for being nothing more than a sweet-natured boy that was willing to work hard to please everyone. Elrohir almost smirked at this notion, as Elladan would no doubt be happy to tell them all that they were being fooled by nothing more than a mad little Elf with a rather destructive sense of adventure.
Elrohir was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of heavy boots on the clean-swept stable floor. The sound made Elrohir jump---it was too early for the grooms to arrive, and Derek was mending a paddock fence on the other side of the grounds. He peaked around the corner of the stall, careful to keep his hair over his ears.
"Does no one work in this stable, or do the horses saddle themselves?" a loud, pleasant voice called out.
Elrohir nearly dropped the bridle in his hands. He caught it before it fell, but it made an awfully loud jangling noise. Elrohir winced as the owner of the voice moved towards the noise until he was standing in the doorway to the empty stall. Elrohir was suddenly face to face with the most handsome Man he had ever seen. He was tall, though not as tall as Glorfindel, Elrohir reasoned. His hair fell in reddish-blond waves around his face, matching a short beard. His green eyes sparkled as he regarded Elrohir.
"I have not seen you before," the Man said to him. "Why do I not know you?"
Elrohir kept his eyes down, guessing that this was Lord Boromir. "I have just come here, my Lord."
"Are you a groom?" the Man asked.
"No, my Lord, I am a stable boy," Elrohir said, biting his tongue to keep from saying too much.
The Man sighed in exasperation. "Well, I am Boromir, Lord of this house, though it seems as though you have surmised that already. Can you prove your cleverness again and manage to saddle me a horse?"
Elrohir almost laughed out loud, but he kept his tongue firmly between his teeth and nodded. "Which mount do you wish to ride?" he allowed himself to ask.
Boromir eyed him, his gaze slowly roving over Elrohir's body. Elrohir stood his ground; he was used to being admired by both males and females, though not usually with such a predatory light. At last Boromir indicated a stunning white stallion in the next stall. Elrohir moved quickly to fetch the proper saddle and bridle. He did not know why he was so keen on moving away from the Man. It seemed as though he was always out of sorts when it came to these strange people.
Boromir watched as Elrohir gently led the tall horse out of its confined stall. He chose that particular mount for his spirit. He was known to be difficult to control, and most of the grooms dreaded having to saddle him. This young boy would surely be trampled by the proud horse, he thought. But no, the slight figure fit the saddle easily onto the horse while the stallion looked on with only a mild interest. The white horse stood perfectly still as Elrohir held the reins, waiting for Boromir to mount.
"My Lord?" Elrohir asked when Boromir did not move.
Boromir wanted to know how the child had managed to take the stallion to hand without so much as a good bite from the horse, but it would be undignified for him to stand there slack-jawed in awe of a stable boy. His eyes hardened as he jerked the reins out of the boy's hands, causing the horse to throw his head back and eye the Lord with quite a bit of mistrust. Boromir swung easily into the saddle, staring icily at Elrohir.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked harshly.
"Elrohir, my Lord," Elrohir replied, trying to keep his voice meek and quiet.
"I will remember you," Boromir said before spinning the horse around and spurring him out of the stable.
Elrohir gazed after the Lord, wondering how such a harsh man ever came to be a ruler over his own kind. These Men were very strange indeed.
Oh, and Sky Magic, I'm very partial to chocolate chips. *evil chocolately grin*
Part 4:
Elrohir collapsed into the fragrant hay, exhausted by the day's work. His very bones ached from an entire day of cleaning stalls and hauling heavy bags of grain from one end of the very large stable to the other. He sighed as he saw the sun sinking lower and lower on the horizon. His job included looking after the horses after nightfall and keeping out intruders. He smiled at that thought, remembering how just a few days ago he wandered into the hayloft, shivering and crying.
The work was easy, though he would much prefer the work of the grooms, if he was given the choice. They led the sleek horses out of their stalls for exercise and saddled them for whoever wished to ride. Elrohir was not used to this system at all---in Imladris, the horses were allowed to come and go as they pleased, and none needed a saddle or bridle to be ridden.
Still, Elrohir was happy that the only contact he had during the day was with the grooms, Derek, and Sarah the Cook. It gave him a chance to become accustomed to life around this strange place before he was forced to continue his masquerade in front of wiser and more well-traveled people.
Elrohir pulled up the blanket, letting the soft whickers of the horses settle his mind. He could sleep and stay alert at the same time, in the manner of Elves. This way, at least, he could watch the stable and rest enough to face the next day.
****************
The sun rose over the tops of the trees in the distance, but Elrohir was already awake and working before the grooms even arrived. He was sitting on a barrel in an empty stall with several pieces of tack spread before him. He worked at polishing the metal bits with a soft cloth until they gleamed dully in the early light. There was also oil to keep the leather soft and supple and strong soap to clean it all. The grooms despised this sort of work, and left it for him to do. Elrohir didn't mind at all, and he was beginning to earn himself a reputation for being nothing more than a sweet-natured boy that was willing to work hard to please everyone. Elrohir almost smirked at this notion, as Elladan would no doubt be happy to tell them all that they were being fooled by nothing more than a mad little Elf with a rather destructive sense of adventure.
Elrohir was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of heavy boots on the clean-swept stable floor. The sound made Elrohir jump---it was too early for the grooms to arrive, and Derek was mending a paddock fence on the other side of the grounds. He peaked around the corner of the stall, careful to keep his hair over his ears.
"Does no one work in this stable, or do the horses saddle themselves?" a loud, pleasant voice called out.
Elrohir nearly dropped the bridle in his hands. He caught it before it fell, but it made an awfully loud jangling noise. Elrohir winced as the owner of the voice moved towards the noise until he was standing in the doorway to the empty stall. Elrohir was suddenly face to face with the most handsome Man he had ever seen. He was tall, though not as tall as Glorfindel, Elrohir reasoned. His hair fell in reddish-blond waves around his face, matching a short beard. His green eyes sparkled as he regarded Elrohir.
"I have not seen you before," the Man said to him. "Why do I not know you?"
Elrohir kept his eyes down, guessing that this was Lord Boromir. "I have just come here, my Lord."
"Are you a groom?" the Man asked.
"No, my Lord, I am a stable boy," Elrohir said, biting his tongue to keep from saying too much.
The Man sighed in exasperation. "Well, I am Boromir, Lord of this house, though it seems as though you have surmised that already. Can you prove your cleverness again and manage to saddle me a horse?"
Elrohir almost laughed out loud, but he kept his tongue firmly between his teeth and nodded. "Which mount do you wish to ride?" he allowed himself to ask.
Boromir eyed him, his gaze slowly roving over Elrohir's body. Elrohir stood his ground; he was used to being admired by both males and females, though not usually with such a predatory light. At last Boromir indicated a stunning white stallion in the next stall. Elrohir moved quickly to fetch the proper saddle and bridle. He did not know why he was so keen on moving away from the Man. It seemed as though he was always out of sorts when it came to these strange people.
Boromir watched as Elrohir gently led the tall horse out of its confined stall. He chose that particular mount for his spirit. He was known to be difficult to control, and most of the grooms dreaded having to saddle him. This young boy would surely be trampled by the proud horse, he thought. But no, the slight figure fit the saddle easily onto the horse while the stallion looked on with only a mild interest. The white horse stood perfectly still as Elrohir held the reins, waiting for Boromir to mount.
"My Lord?" Elrohir asked when Boromir did not move.
Boromir wanted to know how the child had managed to take the stallion to hand without so much as a good bite from the horse, but it would be undignified for him to stand there slack-jawed in awe of a stable boy. His eyes hardened as he jerked the reins out of the boy's hands, causing the horse to throw his head back and eye the Lord with quite a bit of mistrust. Boromir swung easily into the saddle, staring icily at Elrohir.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked harshly.
"Elrohir, my Lord," Elrohir replied, trying to keep his voice meek and quiet.
"I will remember you," Boromir said before spinning the horse around and spurring him out of the stable.
Elrohir gazed after the Lord, wondering how such a harsh man ever came to be a ruler over his own kind. These Men were very strange indeed.