Resurrection
Part 3
Posted: September 29, 2006
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse
Summary: The grand opening of the Last Homely House.
*****
Midsummer’s Eve. It had been a long but fruitful year in the Hidden Valley. The Last Homely House was nearly finished; all that was left were the decorative details inside. The Mírdain, alongside refugees of Noldor, Silvan, and Sindar kindred had constructed the most impressive and graceful structure east of Lindon; it outshined even Erestor’s old home of Ost-in-Edhil. The main house was massive, six stories consisting of: living and guest quarters with private balconies, offices, council rooms, a music rehearsal hall, an enormous library, the main dining hall, a huge kitchen, a substantial wine cellar, and the Hall of Fire, which was complete with a massive hearth of marble brought in from the Misty Mountains.
Outside were terraces and banisters of polished stone, lush gardens with flowering bushes, fruit trees, benches, chaise, hammocks and fountains, and the cook’s garden, complete with fresh herbs and vegetables. Smaller outbuildings were also built, housing a school for the elflings, the laundry, infirmary, soldiers’ barracks, stables, blacksmith, weavers, cobblers, and leatherworkers.
The shape of the house was graceful, balancing its massive structure, and surrounding it were stone paths that wove through the gardens and surrounding birch forest. Near the barracks was a training field with archery targets, a jousting pavilion, and a sand pit for hand-to-hand combat training. The horses were given free rein of the pastures and barn – only the grain and hay were secured.
There were far more living quarters than Erestor had originally envisioned, so not all had private baths. Those who lived on the lower levels would share beautiful public baths that were fed by natural hot springs. Elrond was more than pleased, he was nearly jubilant – and that was saying a lot for the reserved elf lord. Erestor was granted chambers in the upper levels, one floor down from Elrond himself, and two doors down from Glorfindel. His next-door neighbor was Lindir, his fellow refugee from Lindon. Other than Elrond’s staff, the inhabitants were primarily guilds people and their families.
In addition to the building of a house, many friendships were built as well, and Erestor had grown quite close to Glorfindel, Gildor, and Lindir. He also felt a genuine affection for Elrond, though he was always deferential in his dealings with him. The four elves were often seen together, sharing a tankard of ale or glass of wine after a hard day’s work, laughing and spinning tales of old. Lindir, being the youngest among them, was understandably enamored of Glorfindel, who regaled him with stories of Beleriand and the great city of Gondolin. Erestor listened to those stories with rapt attention as well; the more he learned about his friend, the closer he felt to him.
On this day, the halls were bustling with activity. Elleth were busily directing their husbands, brothers, and sons as to where to place furniture as a steady stream of elves flowed in from the lower valley, bringing their belongings with them up the path by oxen-drawn carts. The household staff, hand picked by Elrond, were hanging draperies, placing vases with flowers, and putting all the finishing touches in place.
The laughter of elflings floated in through the open windows as they ran and played outside in the gardens. For all of the residents of the main part of the city, there were still many elves who remained in the lower valley; they were mostly farmers and animal tenders by trade - those elves were guarded by Noldo warriors who lived among them. Erestor was thankful that not all were moving into the main house, for the population of the Hidden Valley was growing every day and he didn’t think a building existed that could accommodate all of them.
Erestor stood in the open doorway of the massive library, which was only one quarter full. The ceiling stretched some thirty feet into the air; carved stone arches, meeting at the center of the ceiling in sections, held up the roof. Tall, narrow windows allowed light into the cavernous space, and shelves carved of beech and ash formed the walls of each aisle. When one entered, they came into a rotunda with a smooth, dark marble floor that held a graceful inlay of pale stars that lay in a circle. Encircling the massive room was a balcony that held a second floor, also lined with shelves to allow for expansion, and a carved stone railing for safety. On the southern wall, double, glass-paned doors opened out to a long balcony, which overlooked the gardens. In the center of the rotunda was a round table with a large loose-bound tome that would catalog of every volume in Elrond’s possession. From the center, there were seven aisle-ways that branched off like the sun’s rays, each one marked with an alphanumerical system to identify a book’s specific location. At the end of each aisle, there were small tables and chairs, and some benches for reading, and at the back, where the records were kept, there were four stuffed chairs, a small desk, and a fireplace.
An office lay off the main entrance. It contained a fireplace, a double-wide desk with chairs on each side, several lanterns, a few tall, upholstered chairs and a small table. This room would be the office of the Chief Librarian and his assistant.
“Never, in all of my days have I seen so magnificent a sight. I have to say this is my favorite room in the house.”
Erestor turned and smiled to see his lord standing behind him.
Elrond stepped up to stand next to Erestor. “It is everything I could have dreamed it would be, Erestor, and one day, it will be filled to the brim with books.”
“Yes, it will, my lord. Books of every kind: history, lore, nature, art, music, law…”
“You have exceeded even my expectations.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I want you to run this library,” Elrond said, noting the spark of excitement in Erestor’s eyes. “And I want you to serve on my council.”
“My lord,” Erestor murmured, “it is more than I deserve.”
“Nay, my friend,” Elrond answered. “It is exactly what you deserve.”
“I have no experience in political matters.”
“You need none, only a sharp intellect, good intuition, and willingness to learn. You have all three, Erestor, I dare say that Glorfindel and I have enough experience to make up for any that you lack. I think you will surprise yourself.”
“I know not what to say…”
“Yes, would be a good answer.”
Erestor laughed, then clamped his hand over his mouth and nodded. “Yes, my lord, I would be honored,” he murmured as he removed his hand.
Elrond smiled broadly and clasped Erestor on the shoulder. “Take a few days rest, then I shall expect you at work. Our first order of business will be filling this library and organizing all these books. Then we will begin preparing for a visit from our king.” He patted the Noldo’s shoulder and turned, departing the library. “Remember to wear your finest this eve!” he called from the corridor, a finger held high in the air.
Erestor smiled and placed his hand on his cheek. “My library,” he murmured as he turned back to face the cavernous space. “I never would have dreamed…”
* * * *
Glorfindel looked at the cord in his private bath with some suspicion. He knew Erestor was capable, but this seemed impossible. He knocked on the copper tank and it answered with a hollow thud, then he reached up, closed his eyes, and pulled the cord. The rush of water entering the tank made him jump a little and he chuckled once he realized his bathroom was not flooding. Then he leaned forward and placed his ear to the copper tank. “By Elbereth,” he murmured. He waited, periodically rapping on the tank to hear how full it was, then he pulled the cord again and closed the valve. He smiled as the water stopped running. He lit a fire in the box, cracked open the small door next to the firebox to vent the smoke, and then returned to his bedchamber. Soon, a high-pitched whistle greeted his ears, and he returned to the bath and doused the fire. The water ran through a fine grate and into a drain, leaving the cooling coals behind for another use. He shook his head in amazement. He turned the small valve, grasped the pump handle, and gave it a push; sure enough, steaming hot water flowed into his large, marble tub. “By the Valar, it works just as he said it would,” he said with a grin.
He filled the tub to two-thirds its capacity, then shut off the valve for the hot water, turned the valve for the cold water, and finished filling the tub. Using a large paddle, he gently stirred the tub, mixing the hot and cold water together, then he shed his robe and stepped inside.
A long, drawn out ‘ahhhhh….’ escaped his lips. On the wall next to the tub was a small shelf that held several small bottles of different soaps and oils. He washed his hair, then leaned his head over the edge of the tub and using a ladle poured clear water through his hair. Again, just as Erestor said would happen, the water ran off the ends of his hair, into the large drain pan built into the floor, then down a small opening at the center, where the reclaimed water would be used in the laundry and to irrigate the sprawling gardens. He poured a small amount of sandalwood scented oil into the water and closed his eyes. “Now this,” he murmured to himself, “I could get used to.”
* * * *
Erestor returned to his chambers to find what could only be a formal robe wrapped in linen draped across the foot of his bed. He picked it up and unwrapped it, finding a rich, crimson velvet robe with cut glass toggles inside. He unpinned the note attached to the linen bag and smiled.
“It is time we saw you in something other than black,” he read aloud. It was signed, “Glorfindel.”
“Such a fine friend,” he said softly as he ran his hand over the smooth velvet. He held it up and looked into the mirror; indeed, the color suited him well, bringing a slight blush to his skin and accentuating his dark hair. “I have the perfect hairclips to wear with this,” he murmured, then he hung the robe in his armoire and made for his bathing chamber.
* * * *
Elrond reclined in his tub, sipping a glass of fine Greenwood brandy that had come as a gift from his friend Oropher. “Even you would be jealous of me at this moment my friend,” he murmured. “I can only imagine the gleam in your eye upon seeing this tub.” He chuckled and took another sip. “Perhaps the day will come when you and your folk can live in a house as fine as mine.”
Tonight would be the Midsummer’s Eve celebration, a doubly happy occasion since they would be christening the Last Homely House. He had taken the waif Lindir under his care upon rescuing him from Ost-in-Edhil. Elrond had been so impressed with the young elf’s voice that he would often request that Lindir sing for him. In the little over a year that Lindir had lived in Imladris, he had flourished. He was no longer thin and pale, but full of life. His smile and laughter were infectious, and his sense of humor was slightly wicked for one so young; Elrond supposed that was due to the amount of time Lindir spent in the company of Glorfindel, Gildor, and Erestor. However, as beautiful as the fair-haired Noldo was, nothing could be more beautiful than his voice, for it raised goose flesh on the arms of elleth and ellon alike.
He looked forward to the song that Lindir had written for this occasion, and he looked forward to seeing the young Noldo in the robes he had made for him. “Sweet, gentle Lindir,” he murmured. “You are such a joy to my heart.” He closed his eyes and smiled.
* * * *
Erestor entered the main dining hall and was aghast at the sheer volume of food and wine that was set out before them. He had smelled it all day, wafting through the hallways of the Last Homely House: roast beef, boar, and fowl; grilled vegetables, soups, bowls of fresh greens tossed with a mixture of oil, vinegar, and goat’s cheese; fresh baked breads, fruits, sticky pastries, steamy bowls of mashed potatoes - there was everything an elf could want. Around the table, elves laughed and feasted, children harangued their parents for sweets, and at the head sat Elrond, enjoying every minute of it. Glorfindel sat beside him toasting Gildor and laughing at a bawdy joke. Erestor smoothed his robes and entered.
“There he is!” Glorfindel shouted. “The genius that designed and built this place!”
Elrond stood and raised his glass. “To Master Erestor, the finest architect in all of Middle-earth!”
Gildor chimed in, “Huzzah!”
Then the crowd also joined in the toast. Erestor imagined he was as bright a red as his robe as he grinned from ear to ear. Passing those sitting near the door, he said to Elrond as he approached, “I take it you enjoyed your bath, my lord?”
“Aye, very much so, Erestor.”
“Genius!” Glorfindel shouted as he clapped Erestor on the shoulder. “It worked just as you said it would, sheer brilliance.”
“You doubted me?” he asked wryly.
“Never, my friend, never,” Glorfindel answered as he toasted Erestor.
“You have some catching up to do,” Gildor grinned as he handed Erestor a goblet. “We have been at it for a good while now.”
Erestor watched as Gildor filled his goblet. “ Greenwood wine,” Gildor crooned, “nothing finer east of Lindon. That Oropher really knows his libation.”
Elrond chuckled, “That is not the only thing he knows, I wager.”
“No, it is not.” Glorfindel affirmed as he raised his glass.
Gildor guffawed. “I knew that was you in his tent! You denied it, you wag.”
Glorfindel leaned back in his chair. “I do not kiss and tell, Gildor. You of all elves know that.”
“True, true…” Gildor winked and took a drink of wine.
Erestor flushed bright red. “Well you two are certainly forthright.”
“Come, Erestor, do not be shy, join in the telling… certainly one as fair as you has had your pick of…” Gildor spied Glorfindel placing his fingers upon his lips. “But then, I am sure you are far too discrete to participate in such roguish behavior,” Gildor recovered.
Erestor took a deep drink of wine. “Yes, quite,” he answered, smiling shyly.
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, then Glorfindel leaned forward and told a joke. Erestor was relieved; no one knew about his relationship with Celebrimbor, at least he did not believe that they did. His eyes widened as he felt a hand upon his thigh and he looked at Glorfindel, who merely winked and continued with his bawdy tale.
*****
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