Married To An Elf

Part 11

Posted: November 2, 2007
Title: Married To An Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Lothvaen annoys Erestor.

*****

Erestor was feeling surprisingly calm, despite the fact that the ceremony was rapidly approaching. Glorfindel had retired to another room to ready himself, leaving the darkling elf to finish his own ablutions and wait for the twins to come and help him dress in his wedding robes. Providing, of course, the twins returned to the house in enough time. Elrond had already warned him that Elladan had gone in search of his brother and that neither as yet had returned.

Sighing, the advisor reached for the parchment and read once more what he had written. It was still a little long and possibly rambling, but once Erestor had begun to write, he found he was literally pouring his heart and soul onto the parchment. Perhaps he would read only parts of it, but let Glorfindel read it all after the celebration. Yes, that seemed the most sensible course of action.

Carefully laying the parchment back on the table, Erestor rose from his chair and walked to the window. It was already late afternoon, and he could not help but feel a little uneasy. He had no idea what had transpired to cause Elrohir to suddenly leave the house; he only hoped that Elladan had been able to find the younger twin and bring him back.

In hindsight, this was not a good thing to be happening right at this point in time. Despite the obvious joy at the upcoming binding ceremony and celebration, there was still an edge of tension in the air. But it was early days yet; Erestor felt that it would still take some time before the situation with the twins resolved itself.

At first, the knock on his door did not register. When the sound came again, Erestor snapped out his musings. “Enter,” he called, and was surprised to see Lothvaen entering his room. Taking in the woeful expression on the scribe’s face, he became immediately concerned. “What is it? Has something happened?” Erestor asked worriedly.

For a moment, Lothvaen just stood there, and then blurted out, “Haldir says he cares for me.”

Erestor was not sure what to make of this remark. “And?” he finally said.

“And I said I liked him.”

The advisor was a little perplexed. “I am afraid I do not understand what you are trying to tell me, pen-neth.”

“He asked me if I cared for him, and I told him that I did, that I liked him, and…well…oh…I think I have made a mess of things, Erestor!”

Erestor stood there, trying to make sense of what the younger elf was saying. “Is there something wrong with Haldir caring for you?” he asked, trying to find a beginning in what Lothvaen was trying to say.”

“No…I do not think so.” Lothvaen frowned slightly. “Except that he said he would find it hard to leave me when he returned to Lothlórien.”

“In other words, Haldir cares for you more than you care for him,” Erestor surmised.

Lothvaen nodded weakly. “Do you think he means that he loves me?” he asked a little fearfully.

Wondering why in all of Middle-earth Lothvaen was telling him this, Erestor rubbed his forehead. “I really can not answer that question, Lothvaen,” he said tiredly. “Mayhap you should be speaking to him, and not to me.”

“He was upset when he left me,” Lothvaen volunteered. “I am not sure if he wants to speak to me right now.”

‘And I most definitely do not wish to speak of this,’ Erestor thought a little sourly. “Then all I can suggest, pen-neth,” he began, “is to leave Haldir alone for a little while before approaching him. And, when you do, I suggest you do so in private. I do not think the whole of Imladris needs to know what exactly is going on between the two of you.”

Lothvaen took in what the darkling elf told him. “Very well, I shall do as you suggest,” he said, trying to sound decisive. “Can I ask you something else, while I am here?”

Erestor counted to ten. “No, pen-neth. I think it is time you readied yourself for the ceremony. Whatever it is you wish to ask, I am sure it can wait for another time.”

“Oh. So you would like me to leave?”

The advisor gritted his teeth and counted to ten once more. “If you would not mind.”

“All right.” Looking a little brighter than he was when he entered the room, Lothvaen quickly left, leaving the darkling elf to wonder why he had all of a sudden become an expert on matters of the heart.

*****

Elvish translations:

pen-neth – young one

*****

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