Married To An Elf 23

Married To An Elf

Part 23

Posted: November 16, 2007
Title: Married To An Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Erestor is a little annoyed, and Lothvaen is told off.

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Erestor laid the scroll on the table. It had taken him an age, but he had finally found what he was looking for, no thanks to Lothvaen. The advisor wondered – not for the first time – where the scribe had disappeared to, then sighed. There was no question in his mind *who* Lothvaen was with, of course. It was quite obvious from the previous night that whatever differences there had been between the Marchwarden and Lothvaen were now more than resolved. The two were openly affectionate; Lothvaen more so than Haldir, leaving others in no doubt that it seemed the scribe had finally found his soul-mate. Erestor only hoped that the scribe was ready to deal with Haldir’s departure when he left on the morrow to return to Lothlórien with Galadriel.

The door opened suddenly, admitting the very elf Erestor was thinking about. “I am sorry, Erestor! I shall go to the library and look for that scroll for you straight away.” Lothvaen was slightly breathless, as if he had been running. Then his eyes lit upon the table. “Oh,” Lothvaen said in a small voice. “You have already found it.”

“Aye, Lothvaen, I have,” Erestor said a little sternly. “I take it you have a good excuse as to why I had to spend my time looking for it instead of writing the expenditure report?”

“Because you dislike writing the expenditure report?” Lothvaen asked innocently.

Erestor opened his mouth and then shut it again. As silly as Lothvaen’s answer was, it was also true. Erestor *did* dislike doing the expenditure report; more often than not it took him a number of attempts before everything added up. “That is beside the point, Lothvaen,” the advisor said. “I had specifically asked you to search for this scroll and have it on my desk.”

“I know,” Lothvaen said shamefacedly. “I am sorry.”

Erestor relented. “Very well, let us say no more on the subject. However, you can help me write the report. You are much quicker at figures than I; mayhap you can deal with that while I do the report proper.”

“Of course!” Lothvaen smiled happily. “I do not mind adding figures.”

“Good,” Erestor said crisply. “Then I suggest you make a start. I want to get this report to Elrond before we have our midday meal.” The advisor watched as Lothvaen quickly gathered the relevant parchments and made his way to the table. Erestor, meanwhile, sat down behind his desk and took the quill in his hand.

“Haldir asked me to go with him to Lothlórien.”

Erestor laid the quill back down on the table. “As in tomorrow?” he asked, surprised.

Lothvaen nodded. “I asked him if I could think about it, but I only have until tonight to give him my answer. What do you think I should do?” the scribe appealed.

“I think you should make up your own mind and not ask others to do it for you.” Lothvaen gave a small yelp, and both he and Erestor turned to face the elf who had uttered the words. Thranduil gave Lothvaen an admonishing look before turning his gaze to Erestor. “A moment of your time please, Erestor. There are some things I wish to ask you with regards to the betrothal ceremony.”

“Of course,” Erestor said smoothly, rising up from his chair. Turning to Lothvaen, he smiled. “Follow your heart, Lothvaen. Trust what *it* tells you. Now, if you could continue calculating those figures for me and then leave them on my desk, I will include them in my report.”

“Yes, Erestor,” Lothvaen stammered, his gaze still fixed upon the Mirkwood king.

Erestor followed Thranduil out of the room. “Thank you,” he said wryly, and Thranduil smiled.

“I take it this is not the first time Lothvaen has asked you what he should do.”

“No, it is not.” Erestor fell into step with Thranduil. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Nothing,” Thranduil admitted. “Everything is under control, thanks to Elrond and yourself.”

“Then why did you…?”

Thranduil gave a slight shrug and smiled. “Well, someone had to rescue you, did they not?”

*****

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