Erestober

I am on writing and tumblr hiatus for a bit, but am queuing up these four little older bites for @erestober, in the meantime. Aged like a good cheese, or the equivalent 😉.

Fugue: Three Voices, Four Entries (T: 1,600 words), in which Fëanorian Erestor makes - and tries to make up for - mistakes with four sets of twins: Amrod and Amras, Elurín and Eluréd, Elrond and Elros, Elladan and Elrohir. Angst and sorrow and a Tolkienish resolution.

Examined Lives (T: 700 words), in which Erestor and Pengolodh negotiate truth, history, responsibility, and the echoes of grief while learning to love each other.

O, How I Have Missed Our Scholarly Debates (M: 400 words), in which Erestor and Pengolodh engage in shamelessly delicious revisions to the Matter of Beleriand. Academic smut, pure and simple.

I just spotted that for @erestober apparently posting past works and such is okay, too?

I haven't written Erestor much, but he does make brief appearances in my fic verse as librarian and archivist of Imladris.

So here is a little compilation, four mini scenes with our librarian.

‘Erestor’, said Elrond softly. ‘Come over here and have a look. Can you tell which one was the stone that I just dropped?’

‘Whatever will you ask me next?’ said Erestor. ‘I’m a librarian, not a mineralogist.’ Nevertheless, he came and stood beside Elrond and peered intently at the stones. ‘I cannot spot any difference at all between them’, he said, quietly.

The Walls Will Serve

Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel, Caranthir/Haleth

Characters: Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, Caranthir, Haleth

Summary: It is the Fall Festivities and Erestor enters the hedge maze for a bit of peace and quiet. He is faced with his own thoughts, his worries over his love of Glorfindel, and the past wisdom of his parents' imparted on him through his childhood memories.

A sequel to Wedding Bells, Funeral Bells

For @erestober

Snippet:

"The hedge maze?" Erestor asked back, giving Elrond an unimpressed look.

Elrond had the audacity to retaliate with an earnest, good-natured smile.

"Why not give it a try," he gently urged. "By all accounts it's good fun."

"If getting lost and being hopelessly turned around is considered 'good fun'..." Erestor muttered. Then loudly he added, "I do not have time for fun. I'm busy!"

The autumn festivities kept getting more elaborate each century as the traditional harvest celebration got lumped together with new mannish beliefs and dwarven games. There needed to be enough food and drink for everyone, music for the dancers, enough stalls for the merchants, games for the children, races and competitions to entertain all who resided in Rivendell, and everything in need of supervision and careful coordination. Erestor was always the one in charge of such logistics and he wasn't about to make this time the exception.

"Consider it your well-deserved break so you may enjoy the festival for yourself," said Elrond, not backing down. "The maze is quite peaceful and quiet. Meditative, I would say. The perfect opportunity to gather one’s thoughts in between duties and reflect on some things. Perhaps even come to some revelation where long undecided questions are concerned."

Erestor's face suddenly felt too hot, and he shot a disgruntled glare at his lord. At times Elrond was far too perceptive for Erestor's comfort and had neither the shame nor grace to pretend not to know what he knew.

Erestor was also aware that it was pointless to refuse Elrond's suggestion, so he shoved his upcoming responsibilities, along with a very detailed list of instructions, into Melpomaen's lap and trudged down the path away from the Homely House and towards the farming fields where one of the smaller plots had been converted into a hedge maze for the festival.

He stood by the entrance as the stars came out to dot the night sky, the opening into the maze stretching out infinitely in the yawning dark. The occasional breeze rustled the leaves of the tall, plant-formed walls, and Erestor pulled the shawl he was wearing tighter around himself. It was a mild autumn eve, the wind's nip on his face not so sharp as it could be that time of year, but the embroidered silk shawl was a layer of warmth that was welcome to the soul.

There were small lanterns fashioned from decorative pumpkins lining the foot of the maze, lit candles flickering cheerfully from behind intricately carved windows shaped like flowers or a pair of eyes. Erestor picked one of them up that happened to peer back at him with large, soulful eyes, like it was some little creature begging to come with him, the small pumpkin lantern easily fitting in the palm of his hand.

"Come on then," he told the lantern as if it really was a small animal cradled in his grasp. The little pumpkin did not answer, of course, but the warm orange flames in its eyes gleamed gratefully back at him, reminding him of none other than the bright Treelight shining in the joyful gaze of a certain captain of the guard.

Heart fluttering at the thought of Glorfindel, Erestor breathed a heavy sigh and stepped inside the dark path of the maze.

In which a chance encounter with a sickly Elfling at the edges of Gil-galad's encampment turns Erestor's world on its head. 

A child of an outcast house. A soldier of unlikely fortune. A man whose place in the world is the space between. A friend in unprecedented circumstances.

Or, in a nutshell, Erestor.

A child of an outcast house. A soldier of unlikely fortune. A man whose place in the world is the space between. A friend in unprecedented circumstances.

Or, in a nutshell, Erestor.

Lil' Erestor is in bed sick :(

Lil' Erestor by the harbour!

Inktober day 2: "Weave". Which is conveniently also Erestober. I am the king of multitasking

Lil' Erestor in the big city (Hamburg)

It's the first week of Erestober! This week's Erestor quote is

Beside Glorfindel there were several other counsellors of Elrond’s household, of whom Erestor was the chief.

This week's prompts:

Origins | Lore | Life

Epistolary | Bookbinding | Meta

Roasted Chestnuts | Rainy Afternoons | Corn Mazes