"Is he a king?"
Finuial looked up from his correspondence and turned his gaze towards the elfling. Erestor was sitting by the window, an open book in his hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Is who a king?"
"Lord Gil-Galad"
Finuial smiled slightly, he liked this youngster. Erestor was polite beyond his years and seemed exceptionally intelligent. Finuial was not overly fond of elflings for the most part, however this one tended not to try his patience as most did.
"Nay, Lord Gil-Galad is a Lord not a King."
A long pause followed, Erestor did not return to his book, his brows knit in deep thought.
"Who is the King of the Noldor then?"
Finuial lifted his head once more, "Turgon of Gondolin"
"Oh, I knew that" Erestor chastised himself in a voice too soft for the healer to catch, "I thought Lord Gil-Galad was the King of the Noldor," he added absently.
"The Valar forbid, should something happen to King Turgon, then the crown will pass to Lord Gil-Galad."
This seemed to satisfy his charge, and Finuial returned to his papers.
Erestor fidgeted, three days had passed since he had talked to Gil-Galad outside and since then the healers had insisted he do nothing but rest and eat. His strength was returning too slowly for his liking, Rosuil had said that it was hardly surprising given the condition that he had arrived in and that he should be patient. He had found three small books on a table by his bed the morning after he had woken and these had served to keep him occupied for a time.
"Finuial?"
"Aye"
"Can I go for a walk?"
"Nay."
"Please"
"Nay Erestor you really cannot."
"I'm bored."
Finuial sighed, "Why don't you finish reading your book?"
Erestor gazed at the open book still in his hand, these tomes were well written but after the third reading they had ceased to hold his interest.
"What are you doing?"
Finuial put down the quill, it was clear he was not going to get much more done.
"I'm writing to the healers in Nevrast."
"Why?"
"Because they harvest herbs in that region that are not available here, I'm requesting they send some."
"I see," Erestor rose from his chair and placed the tome lovingly on the table and wandered to a corner of the room where a chessboard was set up, the pieces set in play, he studied the location of the pieces on the board.
"Finuial?"
"What is it Erestor?"
"Who's game is this?"
"Mine and Rosuil's"
"Who plays white?"
"I do"
"I see."
Finuial looked up again at the elfling's seemingly knowing comment, Erestor was a study of concentration as he observed the board. "Erestor?"
Erestor looked at the healer.
"Would you like to play?"
"I would not wish to disturb your game"
"There is another board in the next room, if you fetch it, I will play with you."
Erestor nodded and left the room silently; upon his return he wordlessly set up the board on a corner of the healer's desk and pulled up a chair.
Finuial had thought that this was the ideal way to keep the elfling occupied while he continued his correspondence, but soon found to his surprise that he was facing a skilled opponent and his letters were forgotten as they played.
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Rosuil picked a book on the properties of healing plants off of a shelf in the library and sat in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace.
The library was a dark place, as it was south facing, and lanterns were kept lit at all times even at the height of the day, heavy dark wood shelves held an impressive collection of tomes and scrolls, for although neither, Gil-Galad or CĂrdan were particularly enamoured of books, both were wise enough to understand the need for the knowledge they contained.
Rosuil's attention was caught by the entrance of an elf in dark robes his silver hair held back from his face by simple braids. The elf moved to the fireplace, falling heavily into the chair opposite the healer before pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Difficult day in the classroom Coru?" The healer asked with a smirk.
The harassed elf gave Rosuil a jaundiced look, "It is not that Glorfindel lacks intelligence, but he doesn't seem to be able to apply himself long enough to use it."
"Come now, surely it is not that bad."
"Nay, it could have been worse he might have truly been part of the trade negotiations we were considering today, in which case I believe he would have started a war!"
Rosuil laughed, "Glorfindel is set to be a warrior, surely it cannot be of much import for him to be skilled as a councillor?"
"Lord Gil-Galad does not seem to agree with you, he is to be schooled in diplomacy, languages, trade, and healing too; I think you will agree that Finuial will enjoy that!"
Rosuil grinned, "Nay, I don't suppose he will enjoy that at all. Do you know why Lord Gil-Galad is insistent on him learning these skills? If I did not know better I would be wondering if he was not grooming his heir."
"I cannot say that that thought has not crossed my mind, but truly of all the elflings on Arda, would you pick this one? Please do not misunderstand me, I like Glorfindel well enough, and he's exceptionally skilled for his age in all areas pertaining to battle and warfare, but I fear he would disregard the needs of the people in favour of fortification to such an extent as to leave them lacking in necessities, like food!"
"Are you not being a little harsh Coru? Would that knowledge not come with time and experience? He would not be without advisors, should he find himself in such a position of authority."
"Aye perhaps you are right, and besides, Lord Gil-Galad may have no such plans for the boy. What do you think of his latest waif?"
"Erestor?" At the councillor's nod he continued, "I do not think you need worry; he is as different to Glorfindel as the moon is from the sun. He is rather a quiet elfling, not really surprising given what he has endured, and I would not be at all surprised to hear you find him intelligent beyond his years."
"I would be satisfied to know he can read, or I will have to tutor them separately"
"I can set your mind at rest on that point, he can certainly read, which reminds me, I wanted to ask if you had any books, that might help to keep him occupied. While I suspect he will be released from the healing house in a few days, he becomes restless."
The councillor rose and studied one of the shelves before reaching up and taking a weighty looking tome down, handing it to the healer with a slight smile.
Rosuil looked at the book, ((Trade Negotiations and Customs in the Lands of Men)) The healer gave Corupeth a pointed look, "I was thinking of something a little lighter, perhaps Fables of Beleriand?"
The councillor huffed, "Oh very well, but only if you take that tome too."
