"This is torture," Estel muttered, hunched over a blank book with pen in hand as he peered over the ancient copy of the text he was supposed to be recopying.
"Wait 'til you have seen more than books to classify torture," Glorfindel drawled, settled into a chair not too far away, another book in his lap. He was reading, not copying. "Had I known you'd thought the Return of the Noldor was so intriguing, I'm sure Elrond himself would have requested your help in recopying it."
"It wasn't intriguing! It was boring!" Estel sent a baleful glare at Glorfindel, which the golden-haired elf ignored.
"Yes, but you listened to it long enough to decide it was boring, which implies some interest. Write, child."
"What'll we do after I finish?"
"That remains to be seen. At the rate that you're writing, Estel, we won't have to worry about doing anything else anytime soon."
"This is scribes' work, though!" Estel still had yet to put down so much as a single word on the paper.
"The right weapons are wielded at the right time. Just now, you're too little to wield anything heavier than a pen and book." After a pause, which was only filled by the sound of Estel's grumbling and reluctantly slow writing, Glorfindel added, "When you are done with the first four pages, we will go down to the stables."
"Really?"
"Really. Get to work, child."
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An hour and a half later, four pages of the empty book had been filled in childish scribble, and Glorfindel and Estel were on their way to the stables. The former walked slowly to accomodate the six-year old's shorter legs; as they neared the stable proper, Estel broke into a light-footed run, stopping at the entrance to wait impatiently for Glorfindel. The elf fought to hide a grin. "Come, then, shall we tack up Thalion?" he asked as he ushered the boy in, bringing out the gentle old bay pony.
"I can't. Elladan says I'm too short."
"Well - yes," Glorfindel was forced to admit, looking down at Estel, "you are, I suppose. Do you know how to, though?" A nod from the dark-haired boy. "Good. I will tack Thalion for you, but you must tell me how to do it - the exact same way you would."
It took less time to finish than Glorfindel had thought it would, but then, any brother of Elladan's and Elrohir's should, at the very least, know how to saddle a horse. Glorfindel had taught the twins himself how to do the very same thing. And Estel seemed to either have memorized every word and movement the twin elves had taught him or nearly so, having unerringly corrected Glorfindel's testing 'mistakes'. That done, the elf boosted Estel into the saddle, noting with approval his posture. "All right. Wait here until I tack up Naroth." He stepped into his horse's stall with his saddle and bridle, quickly adjusting buckles and straps even as he heard the faint sound of hooves leaving the stable. With a rueful grin, he finished, then swung himself onto the horse to go find Estel.
It didn't take long. The boy was still within the clearing before the stable, trying to urge old Thalion to a trot. The pony, bridleless, refused to do so, standing at the side of the clearing and munching contentedly on one of the greener patches of spring grass. Glorfindel smiled to see it, turning Naroth toward the shorter pair.
"Your brothers have taught you how to ride?"
"Without reins!" Estel boasted, chin jutting out proudly. Glorfindel laughed, collecting his own reins to look down at boy and grazing pony.
"On such a fiesty beast as Thalion, that is indeed a fine feat. And have Elladan and Elrohir told you why you must learn to ride without reins as well as with them?"
Two hours passed with a long lesson through the pine woods of Imladris on fighting from horseback, complete with dramatic demonstrations on Glorfindel's part and audience paricipation on Estel's, usually in the form of Estel trying the same movements as Glorfindel and forgetting to guide his placid pony, who would then take him straight to the nearest clump of grass. It was nearing sunset when they had just crossed through the main courtyard - Thalion, looking as bored as an aged pony could, suddenly stopped, tossing his head and letting out a shrill whinny. There was an answering one in the distance, accompanied by the faint thunder of hooves. Glorfindel frowned, reining in Naroth as he looked down toward the northern arch, and suddenly heeled his horse into a run. "Fetch your father!" he ordered Estel over his shoulder, quickly rounding a bend and disappearing from sight down the path.
The boy hurried to do so, leaving Thalion at the edge of the courtyard - he knew the old pony well enough to know that the smallest patch of grass would keep him sated for hours - and took off at a run for Elrond's quarters, bursting inside the door in a flurry of russet robes. "Ada! Glorfindel says you have to come--" Elrond was already on his feet, striding to the door. Estel followed him back down to the courtyard, hurrying to keep up with his foster-father's pace.
Just then, three horses came clattering into the courtyard, only two bearing riders. Elladan was astride his chestnut, one arm stretched behind him with the reins to Elrohir's riderless grey mount - he dismounted even before the horses had stopped, leaving the animals to the groom who had stepped forward. And behind Elladan rode in Glorfindel, grim-faced, holding a limp and bloodied Elrohir in the saddle before him.