Authors' Note: Here is my tenth chapter. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! And yes, I do agree with you Laureline, there are too few Erestor romances. He is another one of my favorite characters; maybe I should do a fic with him. I have also been thinking about doing a prequel to this story. It would be about Haldir and Minyoiel met and fell in love. But don't worry, it'll be a comedy. I have also put a small poem in here which one of you requested, I hope you like it. Oh and could someone tell me if ellith is in fact the plural of elleth. I was not sure. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.
Chapter 10 The Heat Boils Over
A long week passed by in Imladris. Glorfindel and Erestor were still refusing to speak to each other and resulted to many forms of childish substitutes. This included many a, "Figwit will you please tell Lord Glorfindel, that I do not have his quill pen." Or another very popular one was, "Figwit, please run along to that housekeeper Erestor and tell him that the servants require more wood for the kitchen. The great feast is almost upon us and the head of the household should know such a thing." But it seemed that Erestor himself was too busy to notice any of the comments or death glares that his friend threw out to him. It was at this time of year that he was most busy, it being his job to arrange all feasts and celebrations. Figwit had decided that he should put his dancing lessons on hold and concentrate more on Arwen, the twins and Lindir's lessons. Thank the Valar that Lord Elrond had not questioned the strange behavior of his two councilors when he had come upon them dancing. But it was clear to all that he was just biding his time and waiting for the end of summer to give them all a sound tongue lashing. Time seemed to pass by much more quickly now and Figwit too felt himself caught up in the preparations for the feast. But he did manage to find some time to continue his battle towards refinement. Everyday without fail he would attend to Lindir's library and practice handwriting and writing in general. His poems had become quite good in fact, though when he slipped up his teacher as reminded him of his past failures by reading one of his less flattering poems. It went something like this:
"I gazed at thee in ever dawn
Upon Imaldris' pure green lawn
Where flowers bloom in quite spring
And hosts of Eldar calmly sing
Your body lithe and full of health
While by your side stands a filthy elf
Yet you do stay, free from harm
While an orc grasps onto your delicate arm."
At this Figwit would turn a brilliant shade of red and try to better his poetry skills. Arwen had moved on from adjusting his physical appearance to now his manners in courting a maid. Every time the advisor left her lessons, he felt even more bewildered than before. Apparently ellith did not like being stalked. The twins, after having shaken off their slight fear of the March Warden, began to teach the young elf fencing skills once more. His archery still lacked much, but that was neither here nor there. He seemed to be more adept to the use of the sword, so that was their strong focal point, even if he still used an elfling's blade. And it was on that fateful day, a week before the festival that they found themselves training in a not so secluded glade where they were easily detected.
Minyoiel clasped onto the arm of her "orc." A smile lit her normally sullen features as they traipsed throughout the Imaldris training grounds. Many of their Lorien archers stopped to great the couple, them being their most esteemed commanders. The soldiers were restless though, a few months of sheer boredom and not a single foul beast slew. They also had had many difficulties in their relations with the residents of this elven refuge. Many of the maidens wished to flirt with them, though they much more preferred the comforts of home. At least the wedding would be something to look forward to, even if it was a small one. Haldir too, began to feel a sense of great desire for action. His lovely fiancée was content, secure in the feeling that they would soon be wed, while he wished for a chance to show off his great fighting skills. He had been discussing such matters with his soldiers (his brothers among them) and Minyoiel, when a not so distant sound reached their ears.
Two blades met in the center of a glade. They both moved in predetermined parries as the owners quickened their pace. Elrohir, who was fighting with Figwit, seemed a little more hard pressed to keep his student at bay. Elladan had long given up, for he was nervous that the young advisor just might best him, and stood in the corner, watching with a bemused smile upon his face. Figwit's tongue was held between his teeth as sweat dripped from his brow. He was wearing only breeches and a light shirt, for robes were too troublesome for training in such a manner. Arwen had in fact come to join them and actually refrained from wrinkling her nose in disgust. She sat in the corner opposite Elladan, with her feet delicately tucked under her silky dress. Lindir stood besides her, having long wanted to see his poetry student's skill with a blade. Then a few moments later, Glorfindel and Erestor appeared, they had been forced to give up their immature bickering as the date of the feast loomed nearer and nearer. Now all watched as Figwit almost managed to disarm Elrohir, but the other elf stopped before he could, still holding on to some of his dignity.
"That was very good, Figwit," the twin commended him. But before his pupil could respond, a wave of loud laughter hit upon them. All eyes turned to the entrance of the glade to see the Lorien archers standing there with Haldir and his fiancée in their lead.
"Ai Elbereth!" Haldir guffawed obnoxiously. "You called that good! That was terrible! I could do much better!" Before he knew what he was doing or saying, Figwit responded.
"Oh I bet you couldn't!" he cried, his voice seemingly shrill compared to the March Warden's masculinity.
"Really?" Haldir stepped up to him. "Do you wish to challenge me?" At this all in the glade shouted no, while Figwit did the unthinkable.
"Yes," the advisor looked braver then he felt. "Yes I do."
"Fine." They began to circle each other, both with a look of death in the depths of their eyes. But then, before he knew what was happening, Figwit was on the ground and Haldir sat on top of him. His face was pressed into the dirt and soil flew up his nose, making him choke. The Captain's weight was a great one indeed as he felt the bones in his back begin to crack under it. Haldir smirked down at him. "Had enough?" Yet then another large weight (make that two) jumped atop Haldir. The twins, though small in stature, managed to drag him off. And when the councilor lifted his dirt stained head, he saw that a full scale elven riot had broken out in front of him.
Ellith: Female elves
