Vertigo (part two of three)
Aug. 1st, 2010 03:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zhieContinuation of it... it's a three part story, so it claims.
I have threatened that it is not allowed to be a four part or a fourteen part or a fourhundred part story, though...
That next day after spending a few hours with Erestor, tending to the older elf and his dodging sarcasm, Glorfindel headed to the stables when he finally had Erestor convinced that he should take a nap. With Erestor occupied, Glorfindel assumed he had two or three hours to figure out just what Bree’s problem was.
The stable hands seemed surprised that anyone was daring to move the rogue beast from his stall, but when they saw that it was the captain of the guard courageously facing the creature no one offered advice or warning. Glorfindel led the horse to an open part of the field. He did not saddle or bridle Bree, and spent the next few minutes carrying on a conversation that was a cross between a threat and a pep talk.
“I really want you to be able to be a riding horse. That was what you were brought here for. You come from excellent sires, and there is no reason you should not be a prize winner if Erestor decides to race you. However, there is the small matter that Erestor actually needs to be riding you when he races you. You cannot just throw him off like you did yesterday.”
Glorfindel waited to see if the horse would give any indication of anything. It surprised him that the creature was so untalkative. There were some who were aware of Erestor’s ability of being able to communicate with the equines, and although Glorfindel’s skill in this was limited, he had some idea of how to understand them at the very least. “I am going to ride you in just a moment,” explained Glorfindel as he donned his riding gloves while circling the horse.
“There are two outcomes to this. One, you decide to be a good horse and not throw me off, thereby keeping your place here in the stables with the other war horses and eventually making Erestor very happy, which will make me happy. Two, you decide to be a naughty boy, you throw me into a tree, and you end up being sent to the farm. This will of course cause me quite a lot of pain and a number of injuries, however, I already know that the rest of the healing rooms are being used and the one with the biggest bed is the one Erestor is in.” Glorfindel stopped in front of Bree, just to the right. “That means that I would spend a week in bed with Erestor, and you would spend the rest of your nights in a very stinky barn. A winning situation for me either way.”
Glorfindel mounted the horse swiftly. Bree grunted and swished his tail. It only took a few steps from the stable for Glorfindel to discover the problem. His dismount was swifter still, and he gently coaxed the horse to lift his front legs one at a time, examining the hooves. It was the one on the right, and Glorfindel shook his head. “My apologies,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “Let me see what we can do about this.”
He walked the horse slowly back to the stable and waved over one of the caretakers. “How often do these horses get shod?”
“Every six weeks; four if they see battle or hard work,” answered the youth.
“And what of Master Erestor’s horses?” Glorfindel held out the reins. “This horse has growth that should long have been trimmed. It is a grave oversight.”
“I am not the one who is assigned to his mounts, but I can find him for you.” The stablehand took a look anyhow, and his eyes widened. “This foot is infected.”
“Aye, it is,” agreed Glorfindel. “Does the same person who tends to shoeing his horses see to their daily welfare as well?”
The youth nodded gravely. “Yes – he is new, and I do not recall his name, but I know his face. I shall fetch him for you.”
---
Glorfindel paced outside of the healing rooms for nearly an hour. Part of him wished to give the counselor longer to rest, but the need to tell him of the new knowledge was pressing. He had already spoken to Lindir after his meeting with the manager of the stables, but had not yet gone to Elrond – sometimes, some things were best discussed between the counselors before going to the Lord of the Valley. As one of Elrond’s apprentices came down the short corridor from the apothecary holding a wide tray with both food and medicine, Glorfindel sighed and held the door open to Erestor’s room.
The apprentice entered, and settled the tray on the side table before walking to the windows to open the curtains. Glorfindel noticed immediately upon entrance that Erestor was already awake, and looked not to have slept much since he had left. “Were you the one pacing outside of the door?” asked Erestor as Glorfindel pulled the chair up to the bedside.
“You should have called me in.” Glorfindel smiled at the apprentice, who was holding a bowl of some foul smelling poultice and a large, soft bristled brush as she approached. It was thicker and lumpier than what Glorfindel had used on Erestor’s injuries the previous day, and the inconsistency of it showed the inexperience of the healer.
“I did not want to take the chance you were Elrond.” Erestor sighed, his eyes now on the nervous apprentice. “Well, go on. Pay no mind to my rank; just pretend I am some other poor, unfortunate soul who fell from his horse and get on with it!”
The poor, unfortunate soul appeared now to be the apprentice, who nearly dropped the bowl as she was offered the chair when Glorfindel stood up. “Just ignore him,” advised Glorfindel. “He is prideful and cranky, and horribly deprived of the ability to throw things at the wall over this by his inability to use his limbs.”
“Watch it, you,” warned Erestor. “I can still bite.”
Glorfindel grinned and playfully snapped his own teeth at Erestor before moving out of the way so that the lady could complete her tasks. She was hesitant when it came to moving the blanket, but her haste sprang forth at covering the intimate part of Erestor’s anatomy with a cloth from her apron. She put patience and care into each wound that needed tending, down to the smallest of scratches across Erestor’s ear, which she dabbed with disinfectant despite it looking to have scabbed over already.
“Are you through?” demanded Erestor when the healer-in-training stood back, supplies gathered up in her trembling hands.
“I... well... I just thought I should explain the precautions before I go,” she stuttered. “Master Elrond always insists that patients are well-informed—“
“Well, inform me then, stop“Are you through?” demanded Erestor when the healer-in-training stood back, supplies gathered up in her trembling hands.
“I... well... I just thought I should explain the precautions before I go,” she stuttered. “Master Elrond always insists that patients are well-informed—“
“Well, stop staring and inform me, then!” Erestor snapped. Glorfindel nearly stepped in to let the apprentice know that Erestor probably knew more about the pungent unguent than she did, but the show was just too amusing to stop.
“The effects of the salve I have applied will only last for twelve hours. At that time, they will need to be reapplied. During the next twelve hours, please be sure not to scratch the affected areas. If you do touch any of the salve, you should wash your hands immediately. The salve should not be ingested or placed near the eyes. If ingested—“
“Do I look like I have the capacity to touch anything, let alone the wounds, or are you completely oblivious to my state of immobility?”
“Uhmmm...I....”
“And if you have concerns that the chief of staff of this realm, second in line after the lord and lady, is going to lick or eat or rub his face in something so foul smelling as this, we have SERIOUS problems, child. SERIOUS problems!”
“Oh, well, I did not mean...” The poor, flustered apprentice looked to Glorfindel for assistance. “Is he always like this?”
“Fin, get her out of here before I learn to throw the chamber pot at her with my feet!”
Glorfindel practically leaped off of the bench by the window and swiftly escorted the lady out. “While Lord Erestor appreciates your professional dedication—“
“He wants you to leave – now!”
“He... wants you to leave, now,” parroted Glorfindel, practically shoving the apprentice into the hallway. “Sorry,” he whispered just before slamming the door in her face, more for the benefit of Erestor than himself.
“He should have sent the redhead,” grumbled Erestor. Before it could be requested, Glorfindel closed most of the curtains again. “Thank you.”
Glorfindel settled back into the chair beside the bed and leaned forward so that he could speak softly. “We have to talk about something that is serious.”
“Is it something to do with Bree?” asked Erestor.
“Well, there is that, too,” said Glorfindel, recalling now that he had other information that seemed less important, knowing what he knew. “Let me start with the good news. Bree has an infection in his foot.”
“You call that good news?” Erestor glared. “My horse is injured – wait, my horse is injured?”
“Yes. That was why he threw you yesterday. Good, right? That means once the infection clears and he is properly shod, you can train him. No field work for that stallion.”
“That is good news,” agreed Erestor. His expression, however, was not joyful. “So what is the bad news?”
Glorfindel stood and nervously began to pace the room. “I spoke to the manager of the northern stables, and I found out he has two new stable hands on staff.”
“And one of them was very inexperienced,” guessed Erestor.
“Not exactly. One of them suddenly disappeared last night. He was the one who had been tending to your horses. When we went to find him, no one could, and his area in the stables was cleaned out.” Glorfindel stopped by the window. “His tack, his boots, his saddle – everything was gone, and the horse he rode in on was missing.”
“What do you mean, the horse he rode in on? I do not recall anyone arriving recently,” Erestor said. “Was he man or elf?”
“He was an elf, or at least, presented himself as such. He told the manager that he had been expected, that you had written a letter of recommendation.” Glorfindel pulled it from his pocket and approached the bed again. “He said he was from Mithlond. No one questioned it, but someone should have. First, that is not your signature. Secondly, you have not been in Mithlond for years; this boy was too young for you to know. Thirdly, someone should have come to Elrond or you or I when they saw that name.”
Glorfindel held the letter out before Erestor so that he could read it, and Erestor did so out loud. “Taranan. Taranan?”
“Rearrange the letters, Erestor. Mayhaps I am being paranoid, but—“
“Are you sure it is not a derivative? Some imposter, sent to make us think it is him?” Erestor’s worried expression was not masked as it might well have been had anyone else been in the room.
“It... I suppose it might be,” acknowledged Glorfindel. “However... this was a very specific attack. This was not random; this was targeted at you. How many times during the last age did you tell me he was ‘after’ you? Well, maybe he still is.”
“Have you gone to Elrond? You have to tell Elrond,” said Erestor as soon as Glorfindel began to shake his head.
“No one has to tell Elrond.” The door was opened, and Elrond himself entered. “Someone already has.” Lindir trailed in behind, along with Celebrian, who shut the door. “While I am not sure that the Dark Lord himself has infiltrated our valley, this is cause enough for concern.”
Glorfindel nodded now, and announced his plans. “I am assembling a party to track him. There was an actual horse involved and they are traveling at a typical pace. In fact, I mean to leave this afternoon.”
“I am belaying that, Glorfindel. I have returned from speaking with those at the stables, and the last time our mysterious intruder was seen was nearly a week ago, perhaps longer from the uncertainty that I have heard.” Elrond sat down near the windows where he was joined by Celebrian. Lindir began to draw back the curtains, but Elrond stayed him with a wave of his hand. “What is your take on this, Erestor?”
Glorfindel helped to prop Erestor up in the bed so that he could answer without having to stare up at the ceiling. “I think it is too late for us to go after him. He is probably gone by now, whomever he is, and probably on his way to another place. This sounds like an attempt to create chaos and confusion. That he was actually able to get into Imladris is cause for concern, but our first course of action should be to warn everyone else. Someone should attempt to farspeak with Amroth or Celeborn, and Thranduil and Cirdan need to be alerted as well. Gildor should also be told,” added Erestor as a second thought.
“I should be able to reach Gildor,” offered Glorfindel, perhaps a bit too eagerly than he should have.
“He, I am least worried about,” added Erestor icily.
“I can contact my father, and he will be able to speak to my mother and to King Amroth about this concern,” said Celebrian. She touched the back of Elrond’s hand. “Perhaps you should attempt to contact Thranduil – else, my mother could after I have spoken to father.”
“I will take responsibility for contacting Cirdan; I think Erestor is better suited to speak with King Thranduil,” said Elrond in acknowledgement not only of Erestor’s close friendship with the king, but also of his counselor’s diplomatic skills. “I hate to ask it of you, all things considered. Are you feeling well enough for it?”
Erestor nodded. “I would appreciate the distraction,” he said. “I may not be otherwise useful, but this I can do.”
“I also wish to consider the possibility of locking down the house,” added Elrond. “We can require a curfew and post guards at the doors.”
“How long would you wish to do that, though?” asked Lindir. “If this infiltrator is gone, what worry have we now?”
“We do not know that he is gone, though,” countered Celebrian. “I am in agreement about a curfew – at least, to have a curfew for being inside of the house.”
Elrond listened thoughtfully to the discussion, but it was evident his mind had already been made. “We will establish a curfew for tonight, which will require everyone to be in their quarters unless other arrangements are previously made. This will allow for us to establish that everyone in the house is meant to be in the house – Glorfindel, you will need to assign some of your men to sweep the halls and do room checks.”
“If you think it necessary, I will.”
“It is necessary, until we know what is going on. This is not an isolated incident; I am convinced of that after seeing the rest of the horses.”
Erestor looked greatly concerned. “What is wrong with the rest of the horses?”
“All of your horses were, for want of a better word, sabotaged. Leather straps on saddles were cut nearly to threads, left to be unnoticed until an accident occurred. Horses were improperly shod. There was even a bit dipped in poison – we only found that after the second inspection. Right now, your horses are being thoroughly examined, and the equipment repaired or replaced and cleaned. But there is no doubt in my mind that you were the target; to what end, I do not know.”
“Neither do I,” replied Erestor. He avoided looking at Glorfindel, and Glorfindel did the same. “Might I suggest, if you intend to have the house locked down by this evening that you begin to inform people now?”
“That sounds like a task I can do,” said Lindir. “No offense, but farspeaking is a little creepy for me. I hate the idea of someone suddenly showing up in my head. Mass notification not using my mind, I can do.”
Erestor looked about to launch a sarcastic comment at the minstrel, but Glorfindel spoke before he could. “I am sure that would be appreciated. We should decide upon the terms and conditions, which I assume would include sundown as being the time that the doors will be locked.”
“That sounds fair,” agreed Celebrian. “I think that there should be a longer time for everyone to roam freely inside of the house, though. Perhaps two hours past sundown; we can make an announcement at that time from the Hall of Fire, and we can also ring the bells. Lindir, let everyone know that three bells will mean that the curfew is in effect, and in the morning, the bells shall be rung thrice again to release the curfew.”
When it seemed all were in agreement with these terms, Erestor added a third suggestion. “I think it should be required that no one be left in a room alone. That is, anyone who is normally alone – everyone should be with someone. In case he were to show up, there is always safety in numbers. There are many ladies whose husbands are on patrol, and we would not wish them to be frightened,” he hastily added when he noticed all eyes were upon him.
“That makes sense,” said Elrond. “It will require a bit more planning.”
“What if we turned the Hall of Fire into a gathering place for the night? We can set something up, like we do for Gildor’s followers when they visit when it’s storming too harshly for them to stay in their tents. I would be happy to organize it,” offered Lindir, trying not to appear too excited over the prospect.
Elrond nodded, and then stood. “That sounds like the most logical idea, considering the time we have.”
“What about the others in the healing wing,” pressed Erestor. “What are they to do?”
“Most of them were to be released this afternoon,” said Elrond. “I will see to everyone after I contact Cirdan; perhaps they can be released early. Thank you for remembering. I think we are adjourned for now.” He left quickly, Celebrian holding his arm and whispering something to him. Lindir headed out a moment later, obviously pleased with his assignment.
Glorfindel watched Erestor, who was staring at the door. “I need to go and take care of things,” he said. “Are you going to be alright?”
“When are you coming back?”
“As soon as I can,” promised Glorfindel. “If you want, I can track down that redheaded healer and send her in to keep you company.”
“This is all my fault.”
Words of dissuasion were scarce at the moment, but eventually Glorfindel patted Erestor’s less injured arm and said, “Should I see if I can find her?”
“To what end? I just had the dressings changed, and if someone or something does show up to get me, little good she will do. She will probably go running down the hall screaming or something.”
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” asked Glorfindel.
Erestor gave Glorfindel a hopeful look, though he answered with, “That would be selfish for me to ask that of you.”
“I will be back as soon as I can. If you want, I will bring some food, too,” added Glorfindel.
“No cheese.”
Glorfindel nodded. “No cheese. Noted. That should be fine,” he said as he walked towards the door. “I think I can figure out how to drug the fruit.”
“You do that. I am going to practice throwing the chamber pot with my feet.”
“Remember to contact Thranduil, too,” reminded Glorfindel.
“It is the first thing I plan to do once you leave me alone.” Erestor smiled as Glorfindel stuck his tongue out at him. “Really, though... maybe you should send that healer if you can find her. Or the one from earlier, if she has not quit yet.”
“I will find someone. And I will be back soon. Promise.” Glorfindel left, leaving the door ajar. Through the years, Glorfindel had made more than a few attempts to seduce Erestor. All had lead to dead ends. Despite this, and despite his longterm romantic relationship with Gildor, Glorfindel still persisted in moderation. More than that, however, he simply wanted Erestor to find someone that he could be with and be happy with. ‘Perhaps if he were not so snotty and stubborn, he would not have to worry so much about being alone,’ thought Glorfindel to himself. He also could not help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Erestor had done or said something in the past that actually justified the wrath that he had recently incurred.
I have threatened that it is not allowed to be a four part or a fourteen part or a fourhundred part story, though...
That next day after spending a few hours with Erestor, tending to the older elf and his dodging sarcasm, Glorfindel headed to the stables when he finally had Erestor convinced that he should take a nap. With Erestor occupied, Glorfindel assumed he had two or three hours to figure out just what Bree’s problem was.
The stable hands seemed surprised that anyone was daring to move the rogue beast from his stall, but when they saw that it was the captain of the guard courageously facing the creature no one offered advice or warning. Glorfindel led the horse to an open part of the field. He did not saddle or bridle Bree, and spent the next few minutes carrying on a conversation that was a cross between a threat and a pep talk.
“I really want you to be able to be a riding horse. That was what you were brought here for. You come from excellent sires, and there is no reason you should not be a prize winner if Erestor decides to race you. However, there is the small matter that Erestor actually needs to be riding you when he races you. You cannot just throw him off like you did yesterday.”
Glorfindel waited to see if the horse would give any indication of anything. It surprised him that the creature was so untalkative. There were some who were aware of Erestor’s ability of being able to communicate with the equines, and although Glorfindel’s skill in this was limited, he had some idea of how to understand them at the very least. “I am going to ride you in just a moment,” explained Glorfindel as he donned his riding gloves while circling the horse.
“There are two outcomes to this. One, you decide to be a good horse and not throw me off, thereby keeping your place here in the stables with the other war horses and eventually making Erestor very happy, which will make me happy. Two, you decide to be a naughty boy, you throw me into a tree, and you end up being sent to the farm. This will of course cause me quite a lot of pain and a number of injuries, however, I already know that the rest of the healing rooms are being used and the one with the biggest bed is the one Erestor is in.” Glorfindel stopped in front of Bree, just to the right. “That means that I would spend a week in bed with Erestor, and you would spend the rest of your nights in a very stinky barn. A winning situation for me either way.”
Glorfindel mounted the horse swiftly. Bree grunted and swished his tail. It only took a few steps from the stable for Glorfindel to discover the problem. His dismount was swifter still, and he gently coaxed the horse to lift his front legs one at a time, examining the hooves. It was the one on the right, and Glorfindel shook his head. “My apologies,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “Let me see what we can do about this.”
He walked the horse slowly back to the stable and waved over one of the caretakers. “How often do these horses get shod?”
“Every six weeks; four if they see battle or hard work,” answered the youth.
“And what of Master Erestor’s horses?” Glorfindel held out the reins. “This horse has growth that should long have been trimmed. It is a grave oversight.”
“I am not the one who is assigned to his mounts, but I can find him for you.” The stablehand took a look anyhow, and his eyes widened. “This foot is infected.”
“Aye, it is,” agreed Glorfindel. “Does the same person who tends to shoeing his horses see to their daily welfare as well?”
The youth nodded gravely. “Yes – he is new, and I do not recall his name, but I know his face. I shall fetch him for you.”
---
Glorfindel paced outside of the healing rooms for nearly an hour. Part of him wished to give the counselor longer to rest, but the need to tell him of the new knowledge was pressing. He had already spoken to Lindir after his meeting with the manager of the stables, but had not yet gone to Elrond – sometimes, some things were best discussed between the counselors before going to the Lord of the Valley. As one of Elrond’s apprentices came down the short corridor from the apothecary holding a wide tray with both food and medicine, Glorfindel sighed and held the door open to Erestor’s room.
The apprentice entered, and settled the tray on the side table before walking to the windows to open the curtains. Glorfindel noticed immediately upon entrance that Erestor was already awake, and looked not to have slept much since he had left. “Were you the one pacing outside of the door?” asked Erestor as Glorfindel pulled the chair up to the bedside.
“You should have called me in.” Glorfindel smiled at the apprentice, who was holding a bowl of some foul smelling poultice and a large, soft bristled brush as she approached. It was thicker and lumpier than what Glorfindel had used on Erestor’s injuries the previous day, and the inconsistency of it showed the inexperience of the healer.
“I did not want to take the chance you were Elrond.” Erestor sighed, his eyes now on the nervous apprentice. “Well, go on. Pay no mind to my rank; just pretend I am some other poor, unfortunate soul who fell from his horse and get on with it!”
The poor, unfortunate soul appeared now to be the apprentice, who nearly dropped the bowl as she was offered the chair when Glorfindel stood up. “Just ignore him,” advised Glorfindel. “He is prideful and cranky, and horribly deprived of the ability to throw things at the wall over this by his inability to use his limbs.”
“Watch it, you,” warned Erestor. “I can still bite.”
Glorfindel grinned and playfully snapped his own teeth at Erestor before moving out of the way so that the lady could complete her tasks. She was hesitant when it came to moving the blanket, but her haste sprang forth at covering the intimate part of Erestor’s anatomy with a cloth from her apron. She put patience and care into each wound that needed tending, down to the smallest of scratches across Erestor’s ear, which she dabbed with disinfectant despite it looking to have scabbed over already.
“Are you through?” demanded Erestor when the healer-in-training stood back, supplies gathered up in her trembling hands.
“I... well... I just thought I should explain the precautions before I go,” she stuttered. “Master Elrond always insists that patients are well-informed—“
“Well, inform me then, stop“Are you through?” demanded Erestor when the healer-in-training stood back, supplies gathered up in her trembling hands.
“I... well... I just thought I should explain the precautions before I go,” she stuttered. “Master Elrond always insists that patients are well-informed—“
“Well, stop staring and inform me, then!” Erestor snapped. Glorfindel nearly stepped in to let the apprentice know that Erestor probably knew more about the pungent unguent than she did, but the show was just too amusing to stop.
“The effects of the salve I have applied will only last for twelve hours. At that time, they will need to be reapplied. During the next twelve hours, please be sure not to scratch the affected areas. If you do touch any of the salve, you should wash your hands immediately. The salve should not be ingested or placed near the eyes. If ingested—“
“Do I look like I have the capacity to touch anything, let alone the wounds, or are you completely oblivious to my state of immobility?”
“Uhmmm...I....”
“And if you have concerns that the chief of staff of this realm, second in line after the lord and lady, is going to lick or eat or rub his face in something so foul smelling as this, we have SERIOUS problems, child. SERIOUS problems!”
“Oh, well, I did not mean...” The poor, flustered apprentice looked to Glorfindel for assistance. “Is he always like this?”
“Fin, get her out of here before I learn to throw the chamber pot at her with my feet!”
Glorfindel practically leaped off of the bench by the window and swiftly escorted the lady out. “While Lord Erestor appreciates your professional dedication—“
“He wants you to leave – now!”
“He... wants you to leave, now,” parroted Glorfindel, practically shoving the apprentice into the hallway. “Sorry,” he whispered just before slamming the door in her face, more for the benefit of Erestor than himself.
“He should have sent the redhead,” grumbled Erestor. Before it could be requested, Glorfindel closed most of the curtains again. “Thank you.”
Glorfindel settled back into the chair beside the bed and leaned forward so that he could speak softly. “We have to talk about something that is serious.”
“Is it something to do with Bree?” asked Erestor.
“Well, there is that, too,” said Glorfindel, recalling now that he had other information that seemed less important, knowing what he knew. “Let me start with the good news. Bree has an infection in his foot.”
“You call that good news?” Erestor glared. “My horse is injured – wait, my horse is injured?”
“Yes. That was why he threw you yesterday. Good, right? That means once the infection clears and he is properly shod, you can train him. No field work for that stallion.”
“That is good news,” agreed Erestor. His expression, however, was not joyful. “So what is the bad news?”
Glorfindel stood and nervously began to pace the room. “I spoke to the manager of the northern stables, and I found out he has two new stable hands on staff.”
“And one of them was very inexperienced,” guessed Erestor.
“Not exactly. One of them suddenly disappeared last night. He was the one who had been tending to your horses. When we went to find him, no one could, and his area in the stables was cleaned out.” Glorfindel stopped by the window. “His tack, his boots, his saddle – everything was gone, and the horse he rode in on was missing.”
“What do you mean, the horse he rode in on? I do not recall anyone arriving recently,” Erestor said. “Was he man or elf?”
“He was an elf, or at least, presented himself as such. He told the manager that he had been expected, that you had written a letter of recommendation.” Glorfindel pulled it from his pocket and approached the bed again. “He said he was from Mithlond. No one questioned it, but someone should have. First, that is not your signature. Secondly, you have not been in Mithlond for years; this boy was too young for you to know. Thirdly, someone should have come to Elrond or you or I when they saw that name.”
Glorfindel held the letter out before Erestor so that he could read it, and Erestor did so out loud. “Taranan. Taranan?”
“Rearrange the letters, Erestor. Mayhaps I am being paranoid, but—“
“Are you sure it is not a derivative? Some imposter, sent to make us think it is him?” Erestor’s worried expression was not masked as it might well have been had anyone else been in the room.
“It... I suppose it might be,” acknowledged Glorfindel. “However... this was a very specific attack. This was not random; this was targeted at you. How many times during the last age did you tell me he was ‘after’ you? Well, maybe he still is.”
“Have you gone to Elrond? You have to tell Elrond,” said Erestor as soon as Glorfindel began to shake his head.
“No one has to tell Elrond.” The door was opened, and Elrond himself entered. “Someone already has.” Lindir trailed in behind, along with Celebrian, who shut the door. “While I am not sure that the Dark Lord himself has infiltrated our valley, this is cause enough for concern.”
Glorfindel nodded now, and announced his plans. “I am assembling a party to track him. There was an actual horse involved and they are traveling at a typical pace. In fact, I mean to leave this afternoon.”
“I am belaying that, Glorfindel. I have returned from speaking with those at the stables, and the last time our mysterious intruder was seen was nearly a week ago, perhaps longer from the uncertainty that I have heard.” Elrond sat down near the windows where he was joined by Celebrian. Lindir began to draw back the curtains, but Elrond stayed him with a wave of his hand. “What is your take on this, Erestor?”
Glorfindel helped to prop Erestor up in the bed so that he could answer without having to stare up at the ceiling. “I think it is too late for us to go after him. He is probably gone by now, whomever he is, and probably on his way to another place. This sounds like an attempt to create chaos and confusion. That he was actually able to get into Imladris is cause for concern, but our first course of action should be to warn everyone else. Someone should attempt to farspeak with Amroth or Celeborn, and Thranduil and Cirdan need to be alerted as well. Gildor should also be told,” added Erestor as a second thought.
“I should be able to reach Gildor,” offered Glorfindel, perhaps a bit too eagerly than he should have.
“He, I am least worried about,” added Erestor icily.
“I can contact my father, and he will be able to speak to my mother and to King Amroth about this concern,” said Celebrian. She touched the back of Elrond’s hand. “Perhaps you should attempt to contact Thranduil – else, my mother could after I have spoken to father.”
“I will take responsibility for contacting Cirdan; I think Erestor is better suited to speak with King Thranduil,” said Elrond in acknowledgement not only of Erestor’s close friendship with the king, but also of his counselor’s diplomatic skills. “I hate to ask it of you, all things considered. Are you feeling well enough for it?”
Erestor nodded. “I would appreciate the distraction,” he said. “I may not be otherwise useful, but this I can do.”
“I also wish to consider the possibility of locking down the house,” added Elrond. “We can require a curfew and post guards at the doors.”
“How long would you wish to do that, though?” asked Lindir. “If this infiltrator is gone, what worry have we now?”
“We do not know that he is gone, though,” countered Celebrian. “I am in agreement about a curfew – at least, to have a curfew for being inside of the house.”
Elrond listened thoughtfully to the discussion, but it was evident his mind had already been made. “We will establish a curfew for tonight, which will require everyone to be in their quarters unless other arrangements are previously made. This will allow for us to establish that everyone in the house is meant to be in the house – Glorfindel, you will need to assign some of your men to sweep the halls and do room checks.”
“If you think it necessary, I will.”
“It is necessary, until we know what is going on. This is not an isolated incident; I am convinced of that after seeing the rest of the horses.”
Erestor looked greatly concerned. “What is wrong with the rest of the horses?”
“All of your horses were, for want of a better word, sabotaged. Leather straps on saddles were cut nearly to threads, left to be unnoticed until an accident occurred. Horses were improperly shod. There was even a bit dipped in poison – we only found that after the second inspection. Right now, your horses are being thoroughly examined, and the equipment repaired or replaced and cleaned. But there is no doubt in my mind that you were the target; to what end, I do not know.”
“Neither do I,” replied Erestor. He avoided looking at Glorfindel, and Glorfindel did the same. “Might I suggest, if you intend to have the house locked down by this evening that you begin to inform people now?”
“That sounds like a task I can do,” said Lindir. “No offense, but farspeaking is a little creepy for me. I hate the idea of someone suddenly showing up in my head. Mass notification not using my mind, I can do.”
Erestor looked about to launch a sarcastic comment at the minstrel, but Glorfindel spoke before he could. “I am sure that would be appreciated. We should decide upon the terms and conditions, which I assume would include sundown as being the time that the doors will be locked.”
“That sounds fair,” agreed Celebrian. “I think that there should be a longer time for everyone to roam freely inside of the house, though. Perhaps two hours past sundown; we can make an announcement at that time from the Hall of Fire, and we can also ring the bells. Lindir, let everyone know that three bells will mean that the curfew is in effect, and in the morning, the bells shall be rung thrice again to release the curfew.”
When it seemed all were in agreement with these terms, Erestor added a third suggestion. “I think it should be required that no one be left in a room alone. That is, anyone who is normally alone – everyone should be with someone. In case he were to show up, there is always safety in numbers. There are many ladies whose husbands are on patrol, and we would not wish them to be frightened,” he hastily added when he noticed all eyes were upon him.
“That makes sense,” said Elrond. “It will require a bit more planning.”
“What if we turned the Hall of Fire into a gathering place for the night? We can set something up, like we do for Gildor’s followers when they visit when it’s storming too harshly for them to stay in their tents. I would be happy to organize it,” offered Lindir, trying not to appear too excited over the prospect.
Elrond nodded, and then stood. “That sounds like the most logical idea, considering the time we have.”
“What about the others in the healing wing,” pressed Erestor. “What are they to do?”
“Most of them were to be released this afternoon,” said Elrond. “I will see to everyone after I contact Cirdan; perhaps they can be released early. Thank you for remembering. I think we are adjourned for now.” He left quickly, Celebrian holding his arm and whispering something to him. Lindir headed out a moment later, obviously pleased with his assignment.
Glorfindel watched Erestor, who was staring at the door. “I need to go and take care of things,” he said. “Are you going to be alright?”
“When are you coming back?”
“As soon as I can,” promised Glorfindel. “If you want, I can track down that redheaded healer and send her in to keep you company.”
“This is all my fault.”
Words of dissuasion were scarce at the moment, but eventually Glorfindel patted Erestor’s less injured arm and said, “Should I see if I can find her?”
“To what end? I just had the dressings changed, and if someone or something does show up to get me, little good she will do. She will probably go running down the hall screaming or something.”
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” asked Glorfindel.
Erestor gave Glorfindel a hopeful look, though he answered with, “That would be selfish for me to ask that of you.”
“I will be back as soon as I can. If you want, I will bring some food, too,” added Glorfindel.
“No cheese.”
Glorfindel nodded. “No cheese. Noted. That should be fine,” he said as he walked towards the door. “I think I can figure out how to drug the fruit.”
“You do that. I am going to practice throwing the chamber pot with my feet.”
“Remember to contact Thranduil, too,” reminded Glorfindel.
“It is the first thing I plan to do once you leave me alone.” Erestor smiled as Glorfindel stuck his tongue out at him. “Really, though... maybe you should send that healer if you can find her. Or the one from earlier, if she has not quit yet.”
“I will find someone. And I will be back soon. Promise.” Glorfindel left, leaving the door ajar. Through the years, Glorfindel had made more than a few attempts to seduce Erestor. All had lead to dead ends. Despite this, and despite his longterm romantic relationship with Gildor, Glorfindel still persisted in moderation. More than that, however, he simply wanted Erestor to find someone that he could be with and be happy with. ‘Perhaps if he were not so snotty and stubborn, he would not have to worry so much about being alone,’ thought Glorfindel to himself. He also could not help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Erestor had done or said something in the past that actually justified the wrath that he had recently incurred.
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Date: 2010-08-02 02:01 am (UTC)