Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Glorfindel and Erestor belong to
J.R.R. Tolkien.
Glorfindel the Balrog slayer lay in the shade of an oak tree basking in the warm autumn sun peeking through its many branches, a book lay closed and long forgotten at his side. A single bold leaf tugged itself free from the branch upon which it was anchored and floated slowly down to land in the elf lord's golden hair. He brushed the leaf aside and pulled his cloak closer about himself as a light breeze swept through the valley with a hint of winters bite. He lay with his back against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed, enjoying the peace and quite when a small cry from somewhere near the base of the waterfall, alerted him to a small elfling flailing about in the shallow pool. He sprang to his feet and took off in the direction of the waterfall. Throwing off his cloak he waded in to icy waist deep water. Glorfindel plucked the struggling elfling out of the ominous abyss that threatened to consume him and carried him back to dry land, picking up the discarded cloak, he wrapped it around the shivering child.
"Its ok I've got you." Whispered Glorfindel rubbing the child's back.
One tiny tearstained face lifted upward to meet Glorfindel's gaze.
"What is your name?" Asked Glorfindel.
"E-EE-Erestor." Stammered the little boy, batting at his nose.
"Erestor, what where you doing at the waterfall?"
"I...I..." Erestor began.
"Where are you supposed to be?" Asked the larger elf.
The child muttered something incoherent about archery practice and then fell silent save for a few awkward hiccups.
"Sorry didn't catch all of that," said Glorfindel.
"I'm supposed to be at...at...archery practice." Said the boy miserably.
"Then why are you not there?" Asked Glorfindel, allowing a hint of austerity to creep into his voice.
Erestor's eyes fell. He knew he was in trouble. His cheeks began to color and he began to trace a looping pattern into the dark sand at his feet with the toe of his wet moccasin.
"I don't like shooting bows and arrows," he began. "I don't want to be an archer when I grow up I...I want to be a councilor." Finished the boy in a whisper.
Looking as best as he could through a veil of dark hair into the boys' downcast face, Glorfindel though he saw tears forming at the corners of the child's gray eyes. He could not bring himself to scold the elfling. Instead he brushed back the damp curtain of hair.
"I'm sure you will make a wonderful councilor." Said Glorfindel, standing up and bringing the child to his feet as well.
The boy instantly perked up at this announcement. The tears that had been forming only seconds before vanished with a quick rub of Glorfindel's cloak.
"Oh I will! I'll be the best councilor ever!" Declared Erestor almost tripping over the hem of the larger elf's cloak in his excitement.
Glorfindel reached down for the child's hand. "Of course you will. Now come along it's getting late."
The orange's and red's of the evening sky began to fade into the dark blue of nightfall as Glorfindel and Erestor began their walk along the winding path that would eventually lead them back to the Last Homely House.
Glorfindel the Balrog slayer lay in the shade of an oak tree basking in the warm autumn sun peeking through its many branches, a book lay closed and long forgotten at his side. A single bold leaf tugged itself free from the branch upon which it was anchored and floated slowly down to land in the elf lord's golden hair. He brushed the leaf aside and pulled his cloak closer about himself as a light breeze swept through the valley with a hint of winters bite. He lay with his back against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed, enjoying the peace and quite when a small cry from somewhere near the base of the waterfall, alerted him to a small elfling flailing about in the shallow pool. He sprang to his feet and took off in the direction of the waterfall. Throwing off his cloak he waded in to icy waist deep water. Glorfindel plucked the struggling elfling out of the ominous abyss that threatened to consume him and carried him back to dry land, picking up the discarded cloak, he wrapped it around the shivering child.
"Its ok I've got you." Whispered Glorfindel rubbing the child's back.
One tiny tearstained face lifted upward to meet Glorfindel's gaze.
"What is your name?" Asked Glorfindel.
"E-EE-Erestor." Stammered the little boy, batting at his nose.
"Erestor, what where you doing at the waterfall?"
"I...I..." Erestor began.
"Where are you supposed to be?" Asked the larger elf.
The child muttered something incoherent about archery practice and then fell silent save for a few awkward hiccups.
"Sorry didn't catch all of that," said Glorfindel.
"I'm supposed to be at...at...archery practice." Said the boy miserably.
"Then why are you not there?" Asked Glorfindel, allowing a hint of austerity to creep into his voice.
Erestor's eyes fell. He knew he was in trouble. His cheeks began to color and he began to trace a looping pattern into the dark sand at his feet with the toe of his wet moccasin.
"I don't like shooting bows and arrows," he began. "I don't want to be an archer when I grow up I...I want to be a councilor." Finished the boy in a whisper.
Looking as best as he could through a veil of dark hair into the boys' downcast face, Glorfindel though he saw tears forming at the corners of the child's gray eyes. He could not bring himself to scold the elfling. Instead he brushed back the damp curtain of hair.
"I'm sure you will make a wonderful councilor." Said Glorfindel, standing up and bringing the child to his feet as well.
The boy instantly perked up at this announcement. The tears that had been forming only seconds before vanished with a quick rub of Glorfindel's cloak.
"Oh I will! I'll be the best councilor ever!" Declared Erestor almost tripping over the hem of the larger elf's cloak in his excitement.
Glorfindel reached down for the child's hand. "Of course you will. Now come along it's getting late."
The orange's and red's of the evening sky began to fade into the dark blue of nightfall as Glorfindel and Erestor began their walk along the winding path that would eventually lead them back to the Last Homely House.