The Messenger

by Mirasaui

Erestor is the victim of a prank and wonders who is behind it. Characters: Erestor & the Messenger. Mild slash.

Title: The Messenger
Author: Mirasaui ()
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Type: Fictional Person Slash
Genre: Romance/Humour/AU
Rating: PG
Characters: Erestor/The Messenger
Disclaimer: The characters are Tolkien's creations, not mine. This is all just for fun.
Beta: Alex_cat
Timeline: Beginning of the Third Age

Summary: Erestor is the victim of a prank and wonders who is behind it.

Author's Note: Boxes within boxes, notes in closets - my family had quirky ideas when it came to gift giving. Not surprising, they made their way into this story.

The Messenger

It was a day no different from any other, except that Erestor was tired and had a stack of papers on his desk that seemed never-ending. Most were unimportant, trivial receipts that needed his signature but others, like the one before him, required research. He had just finished a detailed analysis of the effects of fire blight on apple orchards. This disease occurred only when certain conditions were met but it could devastate production, destroying not only the fruit but also the trees. Records had been kept for the last century and it was found that the disease erupted about once every seven to nine years. Efforts to fight it had come to naught and those in control of the orchards were desperate for the results of the study.

In fact, there was someone or somebody desperate for just about every document in the stack upon Erestor's desk. Or so it seemed, for elves had been popping in and out all day inquiring about this one or that. He sighed, removing the next from the top of the over-stacked bin. At least, all this one required was transcription and his signature. He set to work and after a short while, laid it in the "finished" bin on his left. But the stack of un-finished work did not appear any less. Sighing again, he moved to the next sheet of parchment and with weary eyes began to read it. It was hastily written, almost illegible, and he had to read it through twice to make sure of all the words. Then he put it down and frowned. This is what it said:

Dear Lord Erestor,

I was unable to deliver it myself, but there is a package for you in the kitchen.
Inquire of the head cook as to its whereabouts.

Sincerely,

The Messenger

"Was this some sort of joke?" Erestor asked himself. One clue, aside from the poorly written note, was that any and all persons of the messenger guild were always properly received in Imladris. None would dare walk into the kitchen and tell the head cook to hold a package for Elrond's Chief Advisor. And, if the messenger had any knowledge of the kitchen staff, the head cook would be the last he would turn to. The mistress of the kitchen had a temper that would outmatch a balrog! Besides, Eowidith would never allow such foolishness to occur in her domain.

Erestor snorted. He laid the note aside and returned to his work. But his eyes kept straying to the letter. After finishing a quarter of the task before him, he decided a snack would be in order. Of course, this would require he visit the kitchen. While there, it would not hurt to ask the cook about the package.

Placing his quill in its holder, he yawned, stood and stretched, and robes billowing out behind him, made his way to the kitchen. He was barely through the door when the head cook touched his arm.

"Good morning, Lord Erestor, how is your day? I have a package for you that a young ellon left. He said you would be coming to my kitchen to fetch it."

Eowidith went into the larder and returned with a small box covered in fabric. There was a note on the top of the box addressed to Lord Erestor. Eowidith handed Erestor the box and a plate of sweet pies, knowing it was one of his favourite treats. "I am sure you could use a bite to eat to tide you over until dinner." Eowidith said sweetly.

Erestor accepted the package and the gift in a state of semi-shock. The head cook of Imladris ruled her kitchen with an iron hand. No one was allowed into her territory without good reason, and usually a snack was issued only with much grumbling and complaint. Thanking his lucky stars that he had caught Eowidith in an expansive mood, he quickly left the kitchen with both prizes in hand. As he walked, he shook the box to see if he could tell what was inside. Nothing rattled or moved and the box itself was quite light. Overcome with curiosity, he increased his pace and soon was back at his desk.

He finished the last of the pies then wiped his hands clean with a handkerchief he kept in the pocket of his robe. Placing the box on the desktop in front of him, he cut the bindings and un-wrapped the fabric. What remained was a simple box made of unfinished wood. He opened the top of the box and was surprised to find another note inside. He unfolded it and read:

Dear Lord Erestor,

I see you have found my box with the note.
There is another package for you I was not able to leave with the cook.
It is not that large, so you will be able to retrieve it yourself.
I left it in the stable with the grooms. When I inquired if they could deliver it,
they said they were too busy.

Sincerely,

The Messenger

Erestor ran his hands through his hair. By now, he was sure this was a prank, most probably thought up by Lord Glorfindel or the twins. Yes, they were just the elves to pull such a stupid, senseless trick. Erestor was not amused. He did not have time to waste on trips to the kitchen or the stables, especially to end up as the butt of someone's joke. He pushed the box and the note aside and worked steadily on. But he could not stop thinking about the message. Every so often, he found his eyes straying towards the box again.

"Elbereth," he exclaimed a short while later, shoving the paper he was working on aside. He needed a break, a bit of fresh air would do him good. It was not that far to the stables, he would retrieve the package and kill two birds with one stone. Once more, he rose from his chair and with a nonchalant air, headed down the corridor to the doors that led outside.

The air was sweet with the smell of spring flowers as he made his way to the stables. Erestor passed a few elves he knew, and they smiled and forced him to stop for conversation. After an exchange of pleasantries, comments about the weather and the season, a discussion of the state of affairs of the elven haven and a bit of gossip about Lord Elrond's seneschal, he was able to make his excuses and continue on his trek toward the barn.

As he approached the large structure, one of the grooms, who was sitting outside the door on a bale of hay, lazily waved his hand at Erestor. "Do you wish me to ready your mare, Lord Erestor?"

"Ah no, that will not be necessary." Erestor replied with a slight cough, "I only stopped in to see if Gwaloth is feeling better, she was off her feed a few days past."

"I checked in on her not long ago, but If you need me, give a call." The groom answered, not bothering to move from his comfortable perch.

Erestor gave him a glare, but nodded, entering the darkened interior of the building. Once his eyes grew used to the lack of light, he grabbed an apple from a sack near a post and headed toward Gwaloth's stall. Whistling softly to catch his mare's attention, he held his arm over the gate with the apple in his out-stretched hand. The mare nickered softly and nudged Erestor's arm with her nose before large ticklish lips whisked the fruit away. Erestor smiled as she made short work of the treat. He patted her nose and pulled at her forelock teasingly, then left the stall and began to search for the head lad.

Before he had gone far, the lad himself came out of the tack room, dusting off his hands.

"Mae govannen, Lord Erestor, I have a parcel for you. Wait here a moment and I will fetch it."

"Oh?" Erestor pretended surprise, watching as the elf turned back into the tack room. The lad returned quickly, bearing a small wooden crate.

"This was left for you this morning." He said, handing over the box to Erestor.

"Thank you kindly," Erestor replied. "Do you perchance know who it was that delivered the package?" Erestor tried to keep any eagerness from his voice, acting as if this was a general inquiry.

"Hmm," the lad stroked his chin. "I do not know the elf's name but from his garb, he was a messenger from Lothlórien."

Erestor bade his adieu and carrying his package left the stable yard to return to his office.

As he walked, he shook the crate, wondering what could be inside. As before, there was no rattle or noise of any kind that came from within. Not wishing to show a lot of interest in what he carried, he put the package under his arm and walked with sprightly steps back to the Last Homely House.

Once again a package sat on his desk while Erestor returned to his work. "I shall not give this jokester the satisfaction of showing interest in his prank." Erestor thought to himself. He worked quietly on his papers for a long time. Of course, his eyes kept straying to the crate that sat so innocently on his desktop.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. "It shall just take a quick peek inside," he said. But before he picked up the box, he furtively glanced around the room to be sure no one was watching.

Satisfied there were no eyes upon him, Erestor removed the pegs that held the top fast. He lifted the lid and placed it on the desk beside the crate. He looked inside and sighed. Resting on the bottom of the box was a note.

Erestor took it out, unfolded it and read:

Dear Lord Erestor,

You are certainly popular this season.
There is another package addressed to you
that I wish I could deliver, but I cannot.
I am in conference with Lord Elrond.
But, he has graciously said he would hold the
parcel for you and asks that you visit him later
in his chambers.

Sincerely

The Messenger

Erestor groaned. "Do not tell me that Lord Elrond is in on this also!" Now, Erestor knew this had to be a prank. "I am not amused! There is a mound of paperwork on my desk that needs attention." Erestor ran his fingers through already mussed hair. He was definitely not happy. Bound and determined to get to the bottom of this farce, he stormed out of his office and a few moments later knocked upon the door to Lord Elrond's chambers.

"Enter," a commanding voice called out and Erestor did not hesitate.

"Lord Elrond..." he began, walking into his lord's sitting room.

Elrond looked up from a book he was reading. "Erestor," he said with a smile, "I was about to come looking for you. A package came for you from Lothlórien. The messenger rode long and hard to reach Imladris, so I sent him to rest and said I would see that you received it."

As Elrond was speaking, he walked to a small table and picked up a box, bringing it over to Erestor.

"I know the routine by now," Erestor said in an irritated voice. "I open the package and there is a note inside directing me to go elsewhere. Enough of this foolishness! Some of us have important work that needs to be done." Erestor sniffed. "Open the package yourself if you like. I am returning to my office."

"But, Erestor..." Elrond began, hurrying after his advisor. It was no use. Erestor had rounded the corner and was gone. "What in all of Arda is wrong with Erestor?" Elrond wondered, returning to his chambers and placing the box back on the table. "Perhaps, Glorfindel was right. Erestor was working too hard, spending too much time stuck behind his desk."

Erestor, back with his paperwork, found he could not concentrate. Who was behind this business with the packages? Glorfindel was number one on his list. It would be just like the seneschal to write such silly notes, but Elladan and Elrohir could not be discounted. Then again, perhaps all three had joined together to make sport of him. Why could they not realize the importance of his work?

Lord Elrond depended upon him and so did many others of the household. Lord Glorfindel would not be amused if Erestor interfered with the training of his troops or kept him from completing his duty roster. Erestor huffed. Nine times out of ten, it was Erestor who helped Glorfindel finish the roster. And the twins, they thought of Erestor only as their stuffy old tutor. They did not give him the time of day unless they needed a favour. Then they would come wheedling to him with pleading eyes and cajoling looks. Oh, he knew the wiles of those two like the back of his hands.

Erestor rose from his chair, not able to concentrate on the work that lay before him. That package sitting in Lord Elrond's room kept preying on his mind. Of course, it would contain another note. But, if he did not retrieve it, he would never find out who wished to disrupt his day. Erestor paced back and forth, the mystery of it all driving him to distration, the gall of the person or persons who perpetrated the joke, only adding flame his fury.

Throwing his hands up into the air, he stormed down the corridor and up the stairs, heading once again to Lord Elrond's chambers. Entering without a knock, he stalked over to the table and grabbed the package. Lord Elrond, who had settled back down with his book, simply stared at Erestor in astonishment.

"I shall find out soon enough who is behind all of this!" Erestor all but shouted, leaving the room the same way he had entered, in a hurry and upset.

"But Erestor..." Lord Elrond said with a sigh to the empty room, for his advisor had once again disappeared. Elrond shook his head and gave up worrying. "Whatever is the matter," he thought, "Erestor will straighten it out. If he needs my help, he has only to ask for it."

The package was almost weightless, confirming Erestor's suspicions. And, he carried it not to his office this time, but to his room. He set the package on the bed then poured himself a glass of wine from a bottle on a bedside table. His nerves were on edge. Before he attempted to open the package, he needed the calmness the alcohol would provide. After a few sips of the heady wine and a few deep, calming breaths, he put down his glass and sat upon the bed, taking the package in hand. He opened it, pulled out the expected note, unfolded it and read:

Dear Lord Erestor,

There is yet another package for you.
Lord Elrond in his kindness gave me leave to rest
and I am too tired to seek you out. So, I have left
your package with Lord Glorfindel, who concernedly
made sure of my every comfort. He said he would
leave the box in his room and you could retrieve it
when you wished.

Sincerely,

The Messenger

Erestor's eyes narrowed. So it was Lord Glorfindel behind this madness. If I go to his rooms to retrieve my package, there is no telling what he has laid in store on my behalf. Erestor smirked. Glorfindel could not really expect Lord Elrond's Advisor to fall for such a trap. He cackled to himself as he walked down the hall and knocked on a particluar door. The door opened and a dark-haired elf looked at Erestor in surprise. "Lord Erestor? Come in." Melpomaen said, feeling somewhat flustered. It was his day off and the last elf he expected at his door was Erestor.

"I regret to disturb you on your day of rest, Melpomaen, but I need ask a favour. Just a small one. Lord Glorfindel has left a package in his room for me and I do not care to converse with him at this time. I wondered if you would retrieve the package for me. Glorfindel has given permission to take it from his room."

"Of course, my lord Erestor," Melpomaen replied, wondering why Erestor wished to avoid the seneschal, but not daring to ask. "I shall go right away."

Erestor watched in glee as Melpomaen hurried down the corridor. He waited impatiently for the young elf's return, yet was surprised when Mel returned so quickly.

"Here is your package, Lord Erestor. You need not have worried; Lord Glorfindel was not in his rooms." Melpomaen looked at Erestor for an explanation, but one did not come forth. Instead, Erestor thanked Melpomaen and left, leaving the young scribe more curious than before.

Erestor was curious also. He had thought for sure that Glorfindel was the culprit. Now, he just wanted to open the box and find out what the next note said. Work had become secondary to solving the absolutely annoying practical joke.

Back in his room, Erestor tore open the box and unfolded the note. He practically growled when he read its contents:

Dear Lord Erestor,

I am truly sorry to send you out again.
There is one more package addressed in your name
and instructions are, it cannot be opened inside The Last Homely House.
As it is not urgent and I am sure you do not wish to be disturbed from your work,
it will be delivered to the stables after dinner.

Sincerely,

The Messenger

Crumpling the note into a ball, Erestor threw it across the room. "As if I could work now!" He all but shouted to the wall, irritated beyond all reason at this last revelation. Who was this messenger anyway? Who was this ass of an elf to decide that a package for him was not urgent? Erestor fumed and fussed and paced until it was time to get ready for dinner. He bathed, donned a new robe and hurriedly ran a comb through his hair. "I will not let this upset me," he decided, counting to ten and taking four deep breaths. Squaring his shoulders and straightening his robe, he left his room for the dining hall.

Erestor groaned inwardly when he saw the elf sitting at Lord Elrond's table talking to Lord Glorfindel. None other than Lord Celeborn's marchwarden, Haldir! If there was another that could cause as much trouble as Lord Glorfindel, it was he. Arrogant, hard-headed, stubborn as a mule, Haldir sometimes functioned as a messenger between the two realms, especially if there was important communication to be delivered to Lord Elrond. Erestor knew he had to be gracious and kind to the visitor from the Golden Woods, but he was determined to know why Haldir had sent him running all over creation. Pasting what he knew was surely a false smile upon his face; he took his seat at the table.

Lord Elrond had a warm smile for his advisor. "Lord Erestor, I hope the rest of your day has gone well. We await Lindir and then dinner shall be served. You, of course, know Marchwarden Haldir. He will be our guest for a few days."

Elrond's greeting was interrupted by Lindir's breathless entrance into the dining hall. The minstrel apologized for being late and quickly took his seat. Lord Elrond motioned to his steward and the first course of the dinner was served.

Once the servants had moved away from the table, Erestor opened his mouth to speak to Haldir. But Haldir beat him to it. "I apologoize, Lord Erestor, that I was unable to deliver your package. I had a terribly rushed day."

Erestor glared at the marchwarden. "You had enough time to write those illiterate notes and wrap them in boxes!"

pHaldir looked at Erestor questioningly. "What notes? I did not write any notes, Erestor. I only accepted a package for you and gave it to Lord Elrond." Haldir turned to the Lord of Imladris.

"Erestor claimed the package himself, Haldir." Elrond said, raising his eyebrow at Erestor. "Although, I must say, Erestor, you looked decidedly unhappy about the whole affair."

All eyes at the table turned to Erestor, who decided to drop the subject. "Never mind," Erestor mumbled. "It-it was not important."

Erestor turned to Lindir and began a new conversation, leaving everyone else at the table wondering what had Elrond's advisor so perturbed.

The dinner seemed to last forever, and the more the marchwarden laughed and joked with Lords Elrond and Glorfindel, the more angry Erestor became. He would go to the stable after dinner and see this charade through, but that would be the end of it.

After what seemed an eternity, Lord Elrond declared the meal ended and Erestor was able to return to his room. There he sat, scowling, trying to make up his mind whether to retrieve the package or not. Finally, he threw up his hands. "I may as well get this over with."

It was almost dark by the time Erestor reluctantly left The Last Homely House, walking slowly down the path toward the stables one last time. "I am a fool," he thought. "I should return to my room and forget all about today. But as hard as Erestor tried, he could not override his curiosity. As he neared the stable, he slowed his pace even more, looking around to see if anyone was about, one who might be watching discretely. But Erestor did not see a single soul.

The lanterns were already lit at the barn and their light cast a welcome orange glow. Opening the large double doors of the stable, Erestor peeked inside. Lanterns also lit the interior, but there were still many shadowed areas. Erestor could see no messenger waiting with a package. He walked further into the structure, back toward the stalls. There, he saw a silver-haired elf dressed in the colours of Lothlórien, leaning against a post, facing away from the door.

From the way the elf stood, Erestor knew who it was right away. Haldir! There was no mistaking that form.

"I am tired of these games, marchwarden!" Erestor said huffily, crossing over towards Haldir. "What is the purpose of the notes which you so innocently denied writing? What is it you want from me!"

Haldir turned around slowly, only it was not Haldir that looked back at Erestor.

The elf had the same shining silver hair, broad muscled shoulders, pale blue eyes; his features were very similar to the marchwarden, but it was not he. The eyes that looked at Erestor were not cold and calculating but wide and beguiling, set in a face that was cherubic and rosy. This was not the arrogant elf Haldir, but Haldir's younger brother!

"Rúmil...?" Erestor said in a softer voice, seeing a small package clutched in the elf's hands. "You are the messenger?"

"Lord Erestor," Rúmil said shyly, "I am sorry about the notes. Rúmil lowered his eyes to the package that he held and Erestor noticed the young elf's hands were shaking. "I wished to give you this final package."

Erestor took the box from Rúmil's hands and opened it slowly. Inside, wrapped in a soft cloth, were three silver Mallorn leaves soldered together to form a beautiful hair clip. It was a lovely piece, finely crafted, and Erestor gazed at it in awe. "Whoever could have sent me this?" Erestor wondered out loud, looking at the clip and then at Rúmil, for there was not a note or a name anywhere on the box.

"I only delivered it." Rúmil said, then rushed by Erestor and almost ran out of the stables. Erestor stood there spell-bound, turning the clip over and over in his hand. He had thought this all a prank. He had never expected to receive such a gift. As he turned to leave, a flash of white on the ground caught his eye. It was a folded note, which must have dropped from the box when he raised the lid. Erestor bent down, picked it up and read:

Dear Lord Erestor,

For long, I have dreamed of eyes dark as ink,
liquid pools in which I could happily drown
and of skin like unto the white rose,
soft as velvet and sweetly scented.

I wish to taste lips the colour of dark red cherries,
ripe and luscious, lips that beg to be kissed.
I wish to run my fingers through ebony locks, silky and fine,
touched with the fire of Anor.

But sadly, I know that I cannot.
Instead, I offer a gift for you to wear,
a symbol of your everlasting beauty.

If I could give you the world, I would.
But I will be content to watch and dream and long
for what I know you would never give to one such as me.

Your faithful servant and admirer,

The Messenger

Erestor smiled. Such writing would never grace the shelves of the library, but the words came from the heart. He tucked the note inside his robe and pinned the fine clip in his hair. Moments later, he was walking swiftly to The Last Homely House, heading for a specific room.

"Did you deliver the package?" Haldir asked his brother as Rúmil quietly entered the bedchamber.

"Yes," Rúmil answered, looking sad and downhearted.

"And?" Haldir prompted, "What did Erestor say?"

"He asked who could have possibly given him such a gift." Rúmil replied, turning away from Haldir.

"You did not tell him it was from you, Rúmil?" Haldir looked totally amazed. "You spend a good month's salary on that hair clip and you let Erestor think it a gift from someone else? Are you daft, brother? And what of the notes that Erestor questioned me about, what was in that other package you wanted *me* to deliver? Just how many gifts did you buy for Erestor, Rúmil?"

"I-I did not have the nerve to give the box to Erestor right away, Haldir. Do you remember that game you played on Orophin's begetting day? You left notes, sending him to different locations until he found the bow, the one we made for him. And remember how he was upset at first but then hugged us, telling us it was his best begetting day ever?"

"I remember," Haldir replied slowly. His eyes widened. "You did not...you did not do the same with Erestor, did you Rúmil? Is that what he meant by notes?"

"I thought..." Rúmil began, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Haldir crossed the room and opened it, to be met by an elf dressed in the colours of the messenger guild of Imladris. He handed Haldir a folded parchment then left. Haldir looked at the writing on the front. It was addressed to Rúmil. He looked at his brother oddly and handed him the note. "It is for you."

Rúmil unfolded the parchment with trembling fingers. Inside, written in fine, neat lettering was the following:

Dear Rumil,

Good things come to those who wait.
Meet me in my room tonight.

Sincerely,

Lord Erestor

p.s. The hairclip is lovely

Rúmil smiled at Haldir, a grin that went from ear to ear. "Do not expect me back tonight, brother. I, ahem, have an engagement." With that, Rúmil retired to the bath. Not long after, Rúmil stood before his elder brother dressed and groomed, smelling like a bouquet of flowers. He bid a cheerful good-bye to Haldir, turned and walked swiftly out the door.

Haldir smiled and shook his head. His younger brother and Erestor? Stranger things had happened. He relaxed and lay back upon the bed, happy to have the room all to himself.

Rúmil's heart was beating madly in his chest as he almost skipped down the corridor to the room of Erestor. He knocked upon the door and it opened at his touch. He hesitantly entered the chamber then stopped, seeing the covers on the bed pulled back and a large folded note laying upon the linen sheet.

Dreading what he would find, he picked up the note and opened it:

"The balcony."

was all that was written therein. Slowly, Rúmil pulled aside the curtains to the balcony. Erestor stood leaning against the railing looking at the stars, Rúmil's clip fastened visibly in his ebony hair. He turned and held out his arms to Rúmil, who fell into them willingly, tipping his head up to kiss Erestor's lips.

Erestor returned the kiss then smiled. "Next time you visit Imladris, Rúmil, a simple knock on my door and a question will suffice." He took Rúmil's hand and led him to his bed.

A season later, Rúmil trudged up the path, home from another tour of duty. He climbed the ladder to his talan, dropped his carry sack upon the floor and lay back on his sofa to relax. No sooner had he made himself comfortable than there was a knock at his door. He sighed and went to open it. A messenger stood there dressed in the brown and red of Imladris. He handed Rúmil a package. Rúmil opened the box and looked inside. Lying within was a white rose and a smaller box of luscious, dark red cherries. He smiled, remembering fondly three lovely nights in Imladris. There was also a note inside, which he opened and read:

Dear Rúmil,

This is for you, special delivery.

Love,

Erestor

Rúmil sighed wistfully, wishing he were back in Imladris. He dreamily ate one of the cherries then found a vase for the rose and filled it with water. Breathing deeply of its lovely scent, which reminded him so of Erestor, he placed the vase artfully on a table and went to run water for his bath. But before he entered the bath chamber, he noticed a flickering light coming from under his bedroom door. He walked over and pushed the door aside.

Candles were everywhere, giving the room within a soft glow. Lying in the middle of Rúmil's bed, clad only in a red bow tied to a very prominent appendage, was none other than Erestor.

"Did you open my package?" Erestor asked, "My sweet messenger?"

Rúmil nodded emphatically and smiled. He removed his uniform and climbed into bed next to Erestor, placing his messenger pin on the nightstand. It was the last time he would wear it, for he had quit the guild and was now one of the galadhrim, a guard of the northern border.

Erestor and Rúmil snuggled and embraced and kissed and soon the bed rocked in an age old rhythm. Neither awoke until late the next afternoon. When Erestor's business with Lord Celeborn and Galadriel was finished each day of his stay, Erestor could be found in Rúmil's talan. But none wished to disturb the counsellor or the shy silvan elf.

Erestor left a week later with a keepsake, an enamel pin that he wore close to his heart. During the long ride back to Imladris, Erestor would run his fingers over it, dreaming of silver hair, large blue eyes, rosy cheeks and loving embraces. Though Rúmil would no longer wear the metal emblem, Erestor deemed it a treasure fine, for it reminded him ever of his sweet-faced lover. To Erestor, no matter what Rúmil did in the future, no matter what uniform he wore, no matter the title that he bore, Rúmil would always be, The Messenger. Erestor smiled -- his messenger.

~~~~~ The End ~~~~~