A Planned Event

Chapter 4


Weeks passed without much progress with their refugee. He remained as closed mouthed as ever, and only slightly less irritable. Laegon was at his wit’s end with his patient. Deciding that perhaps this Elf needed a change of scenery, the healer had him moved to his own rooms, which consisted of a modest sitting room, a small bedroom and even smaller bathing room. Cirdan thought the idea of the communal bathing room quite a bad idea for this Elf who so distrusted anyone.

The wondrous location about these modest rooms was the view. The front door led out to a small paved street that faced a glorious view of the bay; a view that lent to russet sunsets and warm sunrises. Daily, Laegon would make a visit to check on the babe’s progress and to ascertain the mental state of the extraordinarily beautiful Elf that bore him. One day, accompanying him on his visit was Meriliel, Laegon’s wife of many years. At first she stayed within the doorway due to dagger glances being thrown her way by Erestor. “I need no new nursemaid!” hissed Erestor towards the healer.

“Calm yourself, tis but my wife, Meriliel, she sometimes accompanies me on visitations to patients.” Laegon sighed heavily as he checked on the infant who was growing rapidly into a healthy, beautiful elfling.

“And how about you? How are you healing? May I check?” Laegon asked already knowing the answer.

“I am fine, and no, you may not check.” Erestor stated into the healer’s tired eyes.

“Very well then, if you need anything before tomorrow, you know where to get me.”

Meriliel spoke quietly then, “Ex… excuse me, Erestor is it? I would ask permission to come with my husband when he visits with you? Would this be acceptable to you?” She looked up into his dark eyes with hope.

Nodding almost imperceptibly, Erestor granted her permission. He knew not why, but he suddenly felt that he could trust this maiden. It was all in the way she held herself and spoke. Erestor had an eye for reading body language.


After a few visits of the same behavior that had Meriliel waiting by the door, Erestor gestured for her to come over to the cradle. Cautiously she walked over and upon looking into the cradle, gave such a genuine smile to the tiny elfling and upon seeing her tears, Erestor came to a decision. “You may hold him.” He told her to Laegon’s astonishment.

Carefully she picked up the infant, cradling him in her arms as a tiny hand reached up and grabbed onto her dark tresses, which were much like Erestor’s in color. She let out a small laugh and rocked the babe, “I like you to,” she whispered. Erestor smiled ever slightly, though his eyes were twinkling with delight.

From that day on, Meriliel would visit with Erestor daily, usually without her husband. Their time was spent just sitting and staring at the sea together or having tea, always with her holding the babe in her arms. Though they barely spoke to each other, it was not needed, for both felt comfortable in their silences together. Erestor was not slow, he knew that Cirdan and Laegon had hopes of Meriliel learning more about their refugee guest, but Erestor somehow knew that whatever was said between he and his only friend here, that it would stay within their quiet friendship.

Looking upon the sleeping elfling, Meriliel said to Erestor quietly, “Your son needs a name.”

“He has one, I just choose not to speak it yet.” She just nodded, never pressing him for more than he was willing to share.

“Are your son’s grown?” inquired Erestor.

“We have none, the Valar have yet to bless us with any of our own.” She replied truthfully.

Pouring them more tea, Erestor then stood next to her and smoothed the top of her head, and in doing so touched another Elf the first time in more months than he cared to remember.

“Our king will be back soon,” she stated sometime later. Erestor just looked at her blankly.

“Gil-Galad?” She uttered, “He was with you the first day you were brought here?”

Suddenly his eyes widened in astonishment. He stood abruptly and began pacing the floor while ringing his hands. “I… I looked into his eyes!” He stated nervously.

“Tis alright Erestor, tis allowed.” Meriliel reassured him.

“NO! No… one must never look into a lord’s eyes without permission to do so!”

“Not here my friend,” she tried to soothe him. It seemed to work as he settled once more into his chair.

“This is true?” he questioned her pointedly.

“Yes, so worry not.”

“Tell me of this king…is he a good Elf?”

“Yes, he is a kind, fair and just ruler. You will like him, for all do.” She smiled reassuringly. He just absently nodded as his mind went elsewhere.


He remembered a time when he was presented to the lord’s of Gondolin. He and a handful of other young male and female Elves just at their majority were to perform a dance for the entertainment of the feast in honor of King Turgon’s birthday. Erestor was bred for entertaining, for Gondolin held a dirty secret… a secret that would fall with the city itself. Young and clearly the most beautiful performer there, Erestor found many eyes upon him, especially eyes of those who preferred male Elves. Moving with graceful sensuality, he performed expertly, and later, while out of breath, found himself being called over to stand before the very king himself. Following tradition, he kept his eyes lowered to the floor, noting the expensive green embroidered slippers that the king wore upon his feet. His chest still heaving and sweaty form the exertion of the dance, Erestor tried to calm himself, willing himself to slow his heart rate, though it failed to do so once the king spoke.

“Lord Ecthelion, come here, my friend,” smiled the king as all the lords and Elves in attendance whistled and clapped knowing what was to come.

Erestor’s field of vision was suddenly invaded with another set of feet, this time they were clad in buttery soft black leather that shone like stars from such intense polishing.

“Since you could not take your eyes off of this lovely one here, I give him to you as a gift for my betting day.” All in attendance cheered. Erestor found himself sweating now and his pulse racing not from exercise but from fear.

Ecthelion bowed, “Thank you my liege, this is most generous of you.”

Erestor felt a hand under his chin lifting his head up. He still never raised his eyes to look upon the face of the one he now belonged to.

“He is a pretty one,” smiled the king as he clapped his hands and called for more dancing and merriment.

Erestor found himself led out of the palace by a servant of his new lord and to his new home. “Consider yourself lucky,” snarled the servant, “Lord Ecthelion is not a mean one, however, he will not tolerate disrespect of any kind.”

They walked through the corridors of his new home, it was a pleasant dwelling filled with warm colors and flowers with several fountains in the courtyard. “Here, this is your room,” it was a little space to the side of the lord’s bedroom, a space that held only a small cot, a chair and a tiny table, though it was private. “You are to attend to our lord’s every need in his chambers, no matter what they may be.” Here the servant stopped and ran a finger down Erestor’s bare chest. “Do you understand?” Erestor nodded yes and pulled away from the touch as the servant just laughed. “Come, I’ll show you where we bathe, and tomorrow we shall get you some clothes, not just that little skirt you are wearing.” Here the servant snorted.

Erestor was then given a pair of silken sea-green sleeping pants and shown around his new lord’s chambers by that stupid servant he loathed already. “I am the head house Elf here and you better do right by the lord, he likes his bed turned down like this, and the curtains like so, before he retires for the night.” Then he was shone the huge bathing chamber with the sunken tiled pool. “He likes his water warm, not hot, and a touch of jasmine thrown in. And if he wants you in there with him, you do as he wants, hear me!” Erestor just nodded. “You are to wash, dry and dress him,” he has enough to do without doing such menial tasks himself, do you understand?”

Erestor felt his heart sink, but quietly replied with a shaky “Yes.”

A knock at the door brought Erestor out of his memories. Answering with a wistful sigh at his son, his lord’s son, he was met at the door by Cirdan and a very tall dark-haired Elf that Erestor remembered as the one Meriliel called Gil-Galad. Instantly, Erestor’s posture changed and his eyes stared at the floor.

“May we come in?” questioned Cirdan.

Erestor nodded yes and as the pair of dusty black boots came into view, in one smooth and elegant movement, Erestor had prostrated himself prone at the feet of the High King.

“Wh… what is this?” bellowed Gil-Galad in surprise.

“Please friend…get up.” Gil-Galad urged, suddenly embarrassed by the display of servitude before him. Erestor did so but still refused to meet the king’s startled gaze.

“Will you not look upon my face?” questioned Gil-Galad in embarrassed amusement.

“I am not worthy to look upon the face of my king,” whispered Erestor in total submission. Cirdan was shocked by the change of demeanor that presented in this Elf before them.

“Nonsense, all may look upon my face,” snorted Gil-Galad in confusion.

Erestor went down on both knees and pressed his forehead to the back of Gil-Galad’s hand, a hand that was huge in comparison to his own. “I offer my service to you,” Erestor slowly looked up and not knowing why, Gil-Galad gulped from the look of submission in the eyes of the beautiful Elf on his knees in front of him.

TBC


Laegon- sharp one
Meriliel- daughter of rose