The young stable hand frowned, "Is something wrong Lord Glorfindel?"
The golden haired Elf Lord straightened up to his true height, from where he had been leaning on the stable door staring into the stall, and laughed.
"Now there is a question! Asfaloth is ignoring me. I have been gone for less than a month and my own horse does not know me! Though perhaps he simply finds his neighbour," he gestured towards the chestnut mare, "much more interesting company!"
The stable hand laughed, "You should not be offended My Lord, Asfaloth and Naurwen (Fire maiden) have been inseparable since she arrived, we have to exercise them together for the ruckus they make when they are apart."
Glorfindel shook his head in bemusement and moved to look over the stall door to get a better look at what had so captivated his mount. "She is certainly a fine looking horse; I daresay he will sulk for a century when she leaves us."
"Then it is fortunate that she is here to stay, unless you know something that I do not?" The lad asked cheekily.
Glorfindel whipped about at the odd comment, "I do not know what you mean, and I suspect your words are bold! Whose mount is this?"
"You do not know! I beg your pardon; I thought you were jesting with me." The stable hand stated contritely, "Naurwen is Lord Erestor's horse, a begetting day gift from The King."
"ah…"Glorfindel turned back to the stall to find the chestnut mare within his reach looking at him curiously, so he reached out a hand to stroke her nose."
"Don't touch her! She'll take off your arm!" The young elf exclaimed too late, his eyes widening in astonishment when he saw the horse nuzzling the golden elf's hand, head tilting playfully. Glorfindel looked at him curiously.
"She does not suffer touches easily," he rolled up his sleeve to display a nasty looking wound on his arm to prove his point, "She adores Lord Erestor, she will tolerate King Gil-Galad, and the stable master, but that is all."
Glorfindel grinned and bowed his head in deference, "I am honoured, Lady of Fire." Naurwen snorted and turned her attention back to Asfaloth who was kicking the sides of his stall impatiently.
He looked at the two horses fondly, and as he did so he had an idea, a good idea he thought with a grin.
"Could you ready me a horse? Not that miscreant," he said, gesturing to Asfaloth who snorted loudly and kicked his stall door again, "and a pack animal, I have some errands to run but I shall be back within the hour."
The stable hand nodded his assent, "I shall saddle Glawar (sunlight) for you."
Glorfindel nodded once and hastily left the stables.
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With each passing hour Erestor's mood became lower. He had returned to his rooms hoping to find Fin there, and though the bags in his room clearly indicated his return there was no other sign of him. Asfaloth was still in the stables and he heard the guards saying that they had been dismissed for a week, so surely he was not in the barracks. Nay, Erestor felt he had to face the fact that he simply did not wish to be found, at least not by him. What was worse was he could not find it in himself to blame him for turning away. Nay, he was to blame for this turn of events and no other.
He picked up a stone and skimmed it with some force across the pond by the main hall, and he realised ruefully that the bench he was sat on was the same one that many years ago had been the site of a passionate kiss. Erestor closed his eyes, still feeling the pain of witnessing Glorfindel in another's embrace.
He shook the thought from his head and rose, his feet carrying him swiftly to his chambers, which were still empty. He changed out of his robes and grabbed his twin knives, a begetting day gift from Master Corupeth, though he was still a novice in their use, he had a talent for them and a couple of the palace guard, not called to Arvernien had given him instruction. The knowledge of their use came easily to him, likely due to the intense and exceptional instruction of his Ada's seneschal all those years ago.
He left his rooms in the direction of the training field, hoping that there would be someone there that would agree to spar with him.
"Erestor? I see you still favour long knives over bow." There was a hint of amusement in the familiar voice, and turning his head he saw that Celeborn had fallen into step with him, matching his fast pace. "Are you in need of a sparring partner? It has been long since we crossed blades and you were considerably smaller then! I'll warrant you can beat me now."
Erestor slowed his pace and shook his head, "You will find Uncle that my skill has deteriorated considerably since last we crossed blades, for since I have witnessed what such blades are capable of, I could not bring myself to have any part in the arts of war. Only after long discussion with King Gil-Galad, was I persuaded to take up the knives once more, and more through his insistence than my own desire to learn these things."
Celeborn nodded once, "His advice is sound. I must go back for my knives I will meet you on the training field."
Erestor nodded once as Celeborn swept down the corridor feeling strangely glad that he would be sparring with one who knew him so well, and he acknowledged for the first time in many years that he had missed the easy familiarity that was so natural between kin.
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A/N
Ilaaris – Thank you!
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur – there will be more soon