Chapter Fifteen: Beginning
Glorfindel waited until Elrond's advisors were at their loudest before he opened the door to the council hall and slipped inside. He was so bored that even a council sounded interesting.
He had been included in a few councils when he had first come to Imladris, but after everyone had discovered that he had very little to add to decisions about inter-settlement trading and diplomatic relations with the Elven kingdoms to the northwest, he had stopped coming. This council, though, promised to be interesting: they were about to choose the next Captain of the Guard. Glorfindel sat down quietly at the back. As long as no one noticed him, then he would not be interrupting.
He noticed Erestor, sitting calmly near Elrond's place at the front of the room. The Chief Advisor was not participating either. He appeared to be deep in thought, as if he was trying to work something out for himself. Glorfindel could not help but wonder what he was thinking.
The advisors under Erestor had apparently decided that it was a bad idea that any two of them should agree about anything. They asserted their individual views—loudly—all at once. A few advisors had even fallen to bickering with one another, and accusations and opinions flew back and forth like arrows. Glorfindel hoped that there would not be any fistfights.
The random thought occurred to him that Erestor could not be too happy with the current state of the council: the advisor prided himself, it seemed, on his ability to control the others, and any disruption of that carefully maintained order was bound to make him angry. Perhaps he was still too tired to notice the disorder or do anything about it.
Suddenly Erestor stood. He did not shout for attention or even hold up a hand. The other advisors noticed him and abruptly fell silent. Glorfindel could not help feeling impressed— the advisors obviously had an immense amount of respect for the dark-haired Elf.
Erestor waited until the room was completely hushed before he began to speak. "There has been much debate as to the successor to Belegon Taurvagorion as Captain of the Imladris Guard," he began. He did not shout, but it was so quiet in the room that even his quiet voice was easy to hear. "Many suggestions have been put forth, and each one has merit of its own. However, as we can all agree, the one we choose must be in all ways superior to the other candidates."
There were scattered nods of agreement.
"Many qualities are desirable in a Captain of the Guard," continued Erestor. "These qualities include the ability to command respect from followers, make and carry out decisions quickly and decisively, and stand firm and courageous in any difficulty. There are other desirable qualities, such as familiarity with the land, but often they may be supplemented by another able warrior acting as a lieutenant."
Again, no one voiced a complaint. Erestor was merely stating facts.
"We are all aware of the tragedy that recently struck the Guard," said Erestor. Glorfindel searched the advisor's face, but could find no trace of emotion in his expression. "Captain Belegon's death was caused by an error in judgment. While it was an understandable error, and one that many others would have made, he paid for it with his own life and those of two of Imladris's most powerful warriors."
There were sober-faced nods all around the room.
Erestor continued. "Now we are left with the question of how to replace him with another. We do not wish to find a substitute, though; we desire the leadership of one who will be an even better Captain of the Guard than Belegon. We desire an individual whose wisdom is deeper than his, whose abilities are higher than his, whose power will endure where his fell. We remember Belegon and do not tarnish his memory, but we seek to preserve the people that he defended. We know that it only honors him to continue the tradition he kept, and make our selection based on the standards he left us. Even as a father wishes his son to succeed where he himself may have failed, so Belegon would desire a successor who will protect Imladris and its people even better than he did."
Glorfindel took his eyes off Erestor long enough to glance around the room. Every single one of the advisors was intent on Erestor's speech, and none of them had a look of disagreement. Instead of taking sides, the Chief Advisor had simply brushed aside the arguments and centered the debate on the principles themselves. He had placed everything in such a light that to replace Belegon with anything less than the best was to dishonor everything he stood for. Erestor had not involved his own opinions, but by clarifying the issue, he had harmonized the opinions of everyone else. They were all united in a common purpose once again. Glorfindel was impressed.
Elrond cleared his throat. "Is there a specific person that you have in mind, Erestor?"
Erestor gave a small, respectful nod. "I do indeed, Lord Elrond. This individual has proven himself worthy of great renown. He has had experience with commanding both a large army and a small group, with overwhelming success in both circumstances. No matter what choice he makes, he is always resourceful and talented enough to bring any situation to a conclusion that satisfies all involved. All who know him hold for him both profound respect and heartfelt admiration. His skill in combat is unrivaled, and none live that would dare stand against him. It is my opinion that he is more than a candidate for this position; he is the ideal for which this position was created."
A ripple of excited conversation ran around the room. "Name him!" one advisor called.
Erestor suddenly smiled. "I nominate Glorfindel Alkamacarion, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, for the position of Captain of the Imladris Guard."
There was a second of stunned silence before the room erupted in a clamor of shocked voices. Everyone was talking except for Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel. Elrond leaned back in his chair and gazed at Erestor with an expression of mingled amusement and approval. Erestor sat calmly down and began rearranging his papers. Glorfindel was completely speechless.
Finally Elrond stood and raised a hand for silence. "Master Erestor has indeed put forth an interesting suggestion. Do any wish to speak against it?"
All of the advisors looked back and forth at one another. Everyone looked surprised, but no one had anything to say. Even the fiercest supporters of particular warriors were silent.
Elrond looked at Glorfindel, an almost mischievous smile on his face. "Lord Glorfindel, do you wish to disagree with Master Erestor's suggestion?"
Erestor stared up at Elrond, a look on his face of complete surprise, and then followed the Elf-lord's gaze across the room to Glorfindel. It was obvious that he had not been aware that Glorfindel was even in the room.
Glorfindel cleared his throat. "My only disagreement would be that he praises me far too highly," he said with a slight tremor in his voice. He was used to hearing people gush on and on about how much they adored him, but this was different. Hero-worship always made him feel flattered, but Erestor's words made him feel strangely humble, especially since he knew the advisor had never meant for him to hear them. "But if this is what you wish me to do, I would accept the duty without hesitation."
Elrond nodded. "We will assemble the Guard and obtain their consent before we officially name Lord Glorfindel as Captain of the Guard, but I believe it is safe to say that they will not disagree. I declare this council adjourned."
Rasaras had almost finished polishing the blade of his dagger, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. He quickly laid aside the blade, stood, and went to answer it.
"Mírhael!" he said, smiling, as he ushered the apprentice healer inside. He had become acquainted with the fussy Noldo much more in the healing halls, and they had formed a thin friendship. "If you are here to speak to my father, then I am sorry, but he is not here. He is at the practice field with a few of his students. My mother and sister are away at the moment as well." Aranna and Alphien had gone to see Vairiel, the seamstress, to get measurements for Alphien's begetting-day present from Eltathar and Aranna. They had promised to have a new dress made for her, and Alphien was practically walking on air.
Mírhael set down his healer's satchel and began to rummage through its contents. "Actually, Rasaras Eltatharion, I am here to see you."
"Oh." Rasaras unconsciously moved a hand to his cast. "Is it about my arm?"
"Partially so." He pulled out a few jars of salves and powders. "I also have a bit of news that I am sure you will find to be very interesting."
Rasaras raised en eyebrow. "News?"
"Yes indeed." Mírhael re-shouldered the satchel, balancing the jars in his hands. "Is there a specific place that you would like me to work?"
"I don't think that Naneth will mind if we use the kitchen," said Rasaras, leading Mírhael to the appropriate room. "As a matter of fact, she left the kettle out in case I wanted to make tea. Would you like some?"
Mírhael laid all of his healing supplies on the table. "No, thank you."
Rasaras set the kettle aside. "What is this piece of news that you came to deliver?"
"I will tell you soon enough. Come and sit down so that I can work on your arm."
Obediently, Rasaras pulled back two chairs, one for Mírhael and one for himself. One thing that he had learned in the healing chambers was that when Mírhael was working, it was no use trying to distract him. "Are you going to take the cast off?"
"No, Lord Elrond will do that in a week or so. I am only here to see how it is doing." He took a small spoon and began to mix the salves and powders together into a paste. "I also need to examine your upper arm, to make sure that the cast is not causing problems."
Rasaras rolled up his sleeve, looking at the paste with a wary eye. It was a strange shade of brownish green, and the smell was awful.
Mírhael ignored the look and scooped some of the paste up in his fingers. "My news," he began, "concerns the Guard."
"The Guard?" Rasaras asked, his attention more focused on the paste than Mírhael.
The healer studied the skin above the cast, frowned, and began to rub the paste on Rasaras's upper arm. "Lord Elrond's council of advisors has met recently to discuss the question as to who will be the successor of the late Captain Belegon." Mírhael was none too gentle about how he rubbed the paste onto the offending skin. "There is a risk that this spot might become irritated, and this should prevent that."
Rasaras squirmed. The smell was almost overpowering, though his arm did feel better. The paste had a soothing quality. "Have they decided, then?" he asked, going back to the former topic.
"Their decision was handed down late yesterday." Mírhael finished with the paste and wiped off his fingers on a nearby rag. "All that they need now is the approval of the Guard."
"Well, who did they choose?"
Mírhael's face was turned away from Rasaras as he closed the jars of salves and powders, but even so, Rasaras detected the subtle flicker of a smile on his face. "Lord Glorfindel."
"Really?" burst Rasaras, so surprised that he nearly shouted. Mírhael grimaced and touched one ear. "Apologies. But… they chose Lord Glorfindel as our captain?"
Mírhael began to put the jars away in his satchel. "It would seem so."
Rasaras grinned. "That's wonderful!" Then he chuckled as another thought occurred to him. "I wonder how long it took them to convince Master Erestor to agree with them. He was probably in favor of sending Lord Glorfindel back to Valinor, one way or another."
Mírhael chuckled. "Actually, the rumor that I heard asserts that it was Master Erestor who put forth the suggestion."
"Master Erestor?" asked Rasaras incredulously. "I thought that he and Lord Glorfindel hated one another."
Mírhael shrugged. "Perhaps you are mistaken." He stood. "You are obviously in favor of the council's decision, so would you like me to simply relay the message to Lord Elrond?"
"Of course," said Rasaras, standing as well and leading Mírhael to the door. He did not roll down his sleeve; he wanted the paste to dry before he would risk getting it on his shirt. "Thank you for coming."
"It is no bother." Mírhael opened the door and stepped out, then turned around and smiled. "Your arm is healing nicely, Rasaras, and Lord Elrond will be pleased when he removes the cast. Congratulations on surviving your first battle wound."
Rasaras grinned and gave him a mock-salute. "Thank you… and I hope it's my last."
Mírhael did not answer verbally, but he gave Rasaras a very eloquent smirk before he turned and continued away down the path.
The ceremony to initiate Glorfindel as the Captain of the Guard was held the next week. The warriors of the Guard had been unanimous in their decision to accept him as their new captain, and even the advisors seemed cheerful on the day of the initiation.
Since the ceremony was held in the morning, that afternoon found Erestor hard at work on his translations. The essay about the fourteen different lords of Doriath was almost complete, and as he neared the end, he found that it was almost enjoyable again.
There was still a glad bustle outside, as the servants took down all the finery and decorations that had been used for Glorfindel's ceremony. Erestor found that he did not really mind the noise, for once.
Glorfindel was going to make a good captain, he reflected. The Vanya had already won the hearts of his warriors—and everyone else—and he had the wisdom of two lives to bring to his position.
As a matter of fact, he was already talking about attending the council in Mithlond—it had been rescheduled once Lord Círdan had learned about the disaster, and would be held in the coming spring. This time, there would be a few more guards as they traveled, and there would be no danger of snowstorms. Rasaras would go, of course.
Erestor added a flourish to the final word of the translation and laid his pen aside, relishing the feeling of satisfaction that came from finishing a long work. It had not been an easy translation, but he had done it, and he had done it well.
Just as he was capping his inkwell, he heard a noise outside, more than just the bustle of the servants. Curious, he stood and walked over to the window.
It was a group of warriors from the Guard, coming back from a patrol. Erestor could see Rasaras among them, laughing with his fellow warriors as he dismounted, and a few other familiar faces. Lord Elrond was even there, having apparently been on a walk in the gardens.
But it was neither the Elves nor Lord Elrond that arrested his attention. The commotion was centered on a single rider, a tall Elf just dismounting his proud white stallion. The Elf stood almost casually, and there was an easy, careless smile on his sharp-featured face. He was dressed in a cerulean tunic and gray leggings, and a dark blue cloak was spread over his broad shoulders. Over the cloak and tunic, reaching almost to the Elf's elbows, cascaded a gleaming river of bright golden hair.
Glorfindel was laughing with his warriors, joking with them about the pageantry at the ceremony and the formal uniforms that they had had to wear. Lord Elrond gave him a tolerant smile, which was a good thing since the uniforms had been his idea.
Erestor smiled. Yes, Glorfindel would make a wonderful captain indeed.
It was early evening, right after sunset, when Glorfindel finally headed to his chamber to relax. The day had been fuller than most, and for once he was eager to rest.
The servants smiled as they passed him in the hall. "Good evening, Captain Glorfindel," they said. They spoke with an almost possessive tone, as if now that he was officially the captain of the Imladris Guard, he somehow belonged to Imladris and its people.
He didn't mind at all. It was good to feel like a part of something again. Before, he had wondered if that feeling of belonging had been forever lost with the fall of Gondolin, but it had returned. That life was gone, this one was new. It was the beginning.
He was so wrapped up in his optimistic thoughts that he did not notice a door opening right in front of him, and so he was startled when he collided with an Elf carrying a massive stack of carefully balanced books.
"Erestor!" he said, jumping to help collect the scattered volumes. "My apologies, I didn't see you."
"Think nothing of it," Erestor grunted. He started to re-stack the books.
Glorfindel eyed the growing pile. "Do you want any help? Surely you don't intend to carry that whole stack down to the library by yourself. It must weigh as much as you do."
Erestor looked like he was about to refuse, but then he stopped, compared the books and Glorfindel, and then shrugged. "Very well. If you will take these, then I will get the rest of them."
Glorfindel took the books that Erestor had indicated, then waited as Erestor collected the rest. He glanced at one of the titles, then raised an eyebrow. "You read history books for fun?"
"Of course," said Erestor, looking surprised. "I find them fascinating."
Glorfindel shook his head as he placed the book back on his stack. "You know, Erestor, sometimes I worry about you."
"The feeling is mutual," retorted Erestor dryly as he stood and balanced the tall stack of books in his arms.
Glorfindel stood, took a few more books from the top of Erestor's stack and added them to his own, then nodded. "Lead the way then, O Master Historian."
Since the night was still young, they met many people in the hallway. Everyone had a word of congratulations for Glorfindel, and he returned each one with a friendly smile.
As soon as they reached the library, a group of librarians rushed forward to help carry the books.
"Filitessë," said Erestor to one of the librarians, handing her a stack of papers, "I have that translation you requested. I apologize about how long it took me to finish it."
She smiled and accepted the stack. "Many thanks, Master Erestor. And do not worry about time… I heard about everything that happened. I'm just glad that you came back to finish them."
Erestor returned the smile. "I never leave a job unfinished, milady." He dipped his head. "If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to ask."
"You know I never do," Filitessë said, laughing. "Thank you."
Erestor and Glorfindel finished unloading the books, then turned to leave. But before they could, they were interrupted by a tugging on Erestor's sleeve. It was Lindir.
"Hello, Lindir," said Erestor kindly. "How is your music?"
Lindir smiled. "My father says that I am improving every day." Then a look of pleading came into his silver-blue eyes. "But I need your help."
Erestor looked surprised. "I thought that Glorfindel was teaching you the songs that he knew." He looked up at Glorfindel. "Was that not the arrangement?"
Glorfindel suppressed a grin. "Actually, I was just working with Lindir yesterday, and we have discovered a problem. There are plenty of songs that I can teach him, but they are all in Quenya. They need to be translated into Sindarin so that everyone in the Hall of Fire can enjoy them."
Erestor's eyes narrowed, but then a slow smile broke across his face, and he put a hand on Lindir's shoulder. "I would be glad to help you," he said.
Lindir beamed. "Thank you, Master Erestor! Can we do it tomorrow?"
"As long as Captain Glorfindel is not occupied, then that would be fine with me," said Erestor.
Glorfindel smiled. "Tomorrow afternoon is wonderful."
"Thank you!" said Lindir, grinning at both Elves. Someone down the hallway called his name, and so he turned to leave, but he waited long enough to toss "See you tomorrow!" over his shoulder.
As soon as Lindir was out of earshot, Erestor turned to Glorfindel, a suspicious glint in his eyes. "You know how to translate songs, Glorfindel."
Glorfindel shrugged, struggling to choke down a laugh. "Now that I have so many duties as the captain, I hardly have the time, and since you are obsessed with paperwork, I thought that it would be the perfect job for you."
Erestor scowled, but there was a smile in his eyes. "I am not obsessed with paperwork."
"Says the Elf who nearly threw a fit at the healers because they would not let him work on his sickbed," Glorfindel retorted."According to Mírhael, they threatened to drug you senseless if you did not stop pestering them to fetch you parchment and a quill."
Erestor tried to look angry, but it was a lost cause. "Say what you will," he said primly. "But at least I do not look like a dandelion."
At that, Glorfindel lost the struggle and laughed. "No, my friend, you do not," he said, clapping Erestor on the back. "But I will tolerate your company nonetheless."
Erestor smiled as well. "Thank you," he said.
And it was obvious that he meant it.
Author's Notes:
This is the last chapter of FI, but there is a short epilogue.
seeing-spots: Thank you for the compliment! I actually know very little about real horses, but I've read a lot of horse fiction, so apparently those were very good authors. ;) I'm very jealous that you owned a horse! Lucky you. I'm glad that you liked the last sentence! That moment in the library was one of the ones that I had planned from the beginning, and I'm glad that you liked it. Thank you for your review!
ellfine: Some people just have a hard time getting along, and Elrond's advisors are no different. Allie is one of my favorites to work with… I don't often do children, but she has been a treat. Rasaras is blessed to have a sister like her. Thank you for reviewing!
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kodur: I'm glad that you like it! This is the last chapter, but there is an epilogue… and there will be a sequel. Thank you very much for your review!
Svadilfari: Don't worry! I understand. I hope your knees recover from all the begging! ;) I'm so glad to hear that you like Rasaras so much! I was proud of him too. He does inspire a slightly maternal reaction, doesn't he? Glorfindel's father is one of my oft-quoted but never-seen characters, but I'm tempted to work with him a little more. Since I just found a tantalizing theory about Glorfindel's parentage, I'm eager to do something with his history. And I'm horrified that you would want to smack Erestor! Though I will admit, he was being pretty obstinate until he and Glorfindel finally made up. And yes, I'll go ahead and give it away that Súlfëa is a member of Asfaloth's bloodline. That frisky horse is a descendant of this frisky horse, and there will be more in between. Thank you for reviewing!
EmySumei: Glorfindel is very endearing indeed, and I'm glad you liked him in this chapter! Erestor is extremely dedicated to his work. I'm not sure whether he just loves doing it, or if he thinks that everything is going to go to pieces unless he's in control of it, but he's very dedicated. Thank you for your review!
BanbieBunny: Wow, thank you! I wanted so badly to slip that line back in, so I built the whole scene around that. Nicknames can be used in more than one way. :) Thank you for reviewing!
kingmaker: Frodo looked very comfortable in his Rivendell healing-chamber bed in the movie, so it seemed to make sense to me that they were pretty nice. Modern hospitals could learn a lot from Elrond! Erestor may not be a social butterfly, but he knows how to whip a group of bickering advisors into order. They might not like him, but they listen when he talks. I would love to nap in a library! They're so peaceful, and there's an almost reverent atmosphere in a place so full of ancient knowledge, that I think Erestor would be very comfortable sleeping there. I might have to make up Elvish funeral rites before I finish writing fanfiction, but unfortunately I'm not looking forward to it. Killing Elves is so awful, but you're right, it might be good to try it. Thank you for your review!
SilverWolf7: I'm glad you liked that scene! As you see, Lord Posy the Dandelion found his way back in… Glorfindel and Erestor have inside jokes, now, I suppose. I felt like I almost abandoned Súlfëa after she brought Glorfindel and Erestor home, but I didn't want to just forget about her, and I didn't think that Glorfindel would either. She certainly deserves her reward! Elrond is a very good healer, and I think he understands when things unexpectedly change for the better, just like he does when things take a turn for the worst. I loved your chapter of "Lost," and I need to go review it. To be honest, when I read it, I was a bit too emotional to put my thoughts in order, and I never have gone back to it. But I will. Thank you for reviewing!
Avalon Estel: Thank you very much for the compliment! ;) I love Rasaras and Allie. Working with the two of them (Rasaras, especially) has been one of the major highlights of this story for me. Mírhael is another fun-to-work-with character, and I can't wait to do more with him in the sequel. And I'm so glad that you liked the library scene! That one has been in my mind since the beginning, and it was wonderful to be able to add it. And of course, everyone loved the "Master Feline" line so much that I had to slip it back in. :) Thank you for your review!
Ramarama: No, it's not the end yet. This is the last chapter, but there is a very short epilogue. I'm honored that you were so happy about the update! Elrond doesn't like how much his advisors argue, but I'm sure that they're useful some of the time. As for Erestor's sleeping position… actually, I sleep like that often. My mom tells me that I've curled up in a little ball to sleep ever since I was small. It's very comfortable, as long as you don't turn your neck the wrong way. I'm glad you liked the image of that scene! I had fun picturing it myself. :) At the moment, I wish I could have that fire, too… computer labs are chilly, even in spring. Thank you for reviewing!
kenzimone: I've always thought of Erestor as rather catty, too. He can be finicky and aloof, but at least he doesn't shed or claw up furniture. ;) He is definitely on the road to recovery now. Thank you for your review!
xXxReixXx: I'm glad that you liked "Snowballs," and I hope you didn't hurt yourself! ;) Thank you for reviewing!
Coming Soon: Epilogue
