Sweet Dreams - Chapter 2
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Genre: Adventure
Summary: How would the quest for destroying the One Ring be like if Frodo wasn't what he seems? Eventual FrodoLegolas.
----------
Gandalf walked through the halls of the House of Elrond, humming to himself. After a good night’s sleep, he got rid of his conflicting thoughts and emotions over yesterday’s events. A new day, he mused, to think about the destiny of Middle Earth, lying in the hands of an elf not heard in history. The last part was what troubled him, how can he not know about a son of Celebrimbor, never even heard about him. How could he, who befriended elven magicians before they left, not know about one that plays such an important role? And actually, a voice in his mind scolded to him, who did you assume gave the power to the Three Rings? Three rings that nobody but Celebrimbor knew their existence until One Ring was forged. The Ishtar noticed, embarrassed, that he never thought about it. Eregion had many strong magicians but he never, ever thought about which of them might awaken the power of the Three. And why never in history had he heard about this magician, an expert in stones and an impressive influencer on the nature?
The wizard stopped in front of the room he wanted to enter. The door of the room was a white one, delicately worked on by elves, their graceful designs shining under the rising sun’s yellow rays. He looked around, the cool breeze hitting his face and making slight rustling sounds from nearby trees. Definitely, the House of Elrond looked beautiful in dawn. Turning back, he opened the door with a slight smile on his face.
The heavy smell was the first thing he noticed, an immediate change after the fresh air outside. Then the lack of light. For a moment he just stood there, blinking to adjust his eyes. When, lastly, he could see inside the room with no trouble, the scene in front of him made him raise one eyebrow. Three elves were looking to him with similar expressions, all carrying several books and parchments in their arms, coming from different directions of the great room. The big table at the centre of the room was filled with numerous books, papers and parchments, apparently carried by the three elves.
“I knew that the Library of Imladris was a well-known place but didn't expect it to find it with people in such an early hour.” The wizard said while walking towards the table and looking to the titles of the books. “I believe,” he continued, “our reasons for this early research are the same.” He looked to the tired faces of the elves, now standing near him after empting their armful of books and parchments to the table. “Do you need the help of a well-rested body and curious mind of a wizard?” he asked smiling.
“That would be definitely helpful.” replied Erestor, sitting down to a nearby chair and taking a deep breath.
“Never saw this table so full of books,” added Glorfindel leaning to a bookshelf, “yet not a clue.”
“And I had believed I knew the history of Eregion, word by word.” said Elrond from his place on one of the chairs around the table.
“So not a word about the son of Celebrimbor?” asked Gandalf.
“Not even mentioned.” groaned the blond elf. He was used to weapons and trainings instead of reading and doing researches for hours.
“His wife?”
“She was mentioned in a few of them. He was married to the daughter of a magician. One of the best in the realm.”
“Nevertheless, there is not a word about a son of them. Actually any child of them.”
“So,“ Gandalf murmured, “not enough evidence to believe his story.”
“Not enough? More like not any!”
There was a silence for a moment while all of them thought about the story of Erandil. After hearing the story from Bilbo, the three elves and the Ishtar in the room began to think about the gaps in the story. None of them asked the hobbit more questions believing it may raise a similar doubt from the other listeners as well - if not already. All of them considered asking the questions to the elf when he woke up. However, then they noticed - needless to say, this wasn’t expected - that even if they ask, they can get no answers from the elf. Of course there was still the possibility to ask the elf to write but this would arouse suspicion from the said elf, something they didn't want. So they began to search the books. Yet, as they searched though the books and family trees of Noldor, their belief to his story lessened even more. He might have easily lied to the hobbit since the old Bilbo was only saying what he heard from the elf. Nevertheless, the curse was real, for the hobbit really turned into an elf.
“I listened to the story again from Bilbo.” Gandalf broke the silence, “he gave more detail in private.” All elves raised their heads to look at him, expecting him to continue, “He filled some of the gaps of the story. Like why he was captured by Sauron.”
“Because he was the son of the creator of the Rings.” said Erestor, raising his eyebrows, “What did you find missing in this explanation?”
“I wondered it as well,” said Elrond, “It was known that Celebrimbor forged the rings alone. Sauron captured him only to learn the whereabouts of them. If the Dark Lord didn't believe Erandil knew about the Three, he wouldn’t capture him.”
“Couldn't it be guessed that, maybe he knew about them since he is the creator’s son?” asked Glorfindel, confused a bit.
“Not his wife, his advisor or fellow smiths but the son we couldn't find in the books. This is interesting” Elrond stopped slightly “and makes me doubt his captivity as well, since I found it hard to believe such a strong elven magic can be accomplished in Dark Lord’s place as well.”
“You no longer need to think about it, Master Elrond.” said Gandalf nodding to himself; he had similar doubts also, before he listened to Bilbo again. “Did you ever think who actually awakened the power of the Three and why we never heard about this magician before?” he started to tell what he learned from the old hobbit yesterday afternoon.
----------
Gimli walked in one of the several gardens of Rivendell, enjoying the view and glad to find a moment alone. Although his kind was never one for gardens and trees, he knew to appreciate good scenery and hard work. These gardens had both. He could easily see the hard work put into these plants and trees even with eyes of someone who could never tell the difference between two kinds of trees. He was thinking along the line of finding a good spot to sit when he suddenly spotted an elf sitting in a bench under a mighty tree.
He groaned silently behind his beard. This place was full of elves and he couldn’t find a spot without seeing any of them nearby! Even at such a reserved corner like this! The dwarf, for a second, believed that he finally found a place to listen to his own head, not their chattering in an unknown language. He was about to turn back to find another place in this beautiful garden or maybe another garden altogether, when he noticed the elf didn’t make any movement to acknowledge his presence. Actually he - or she for the dwarf wasn’t sure seeing as they all had long hair - didn’t even stir at all. The dwarf wondered if the elf is asleep - it was still an early hour in the morning - because if he learned anything about elves in his time in Rivendell, it was that they had sensitive senses. The elf, whoever it is, should have heard his footsteps already.
After he convinced himself that the elf won’t make any noise, he sat to a bench not so far from the one the elf was currently sitting. After a few more moments of admiring the gracefulness of the garden, he began to observe the elf. The dwarf, normally, wasn’t one to stare at people - especially elves - but he found that he could do it easily if the other one was sleeping. And the elf somehow aroused his interest; he couldn’t remember seeing him before with his father.
The elf was currently sitting in such an angle that the dwarf could see him from sideways. His dark brown hair was spilling over his shoulder in slight curls yet only the longest few tresses was past the shoulder. A pretty short hair for an elf, noted Gimli. Nearly all of the elves he saw had hair at least past shoulder-length, female’s was even longer. There wasn’t any braids in the hair as well, not usual again. He noted the pointy ear and nodded to himself. At least that part is not bizarre.
Gimli stood up and slowly walked toward the elf as silent as he can. He was wearing a simple robe that came until his ankles. Its color was between grey and green moreover looked big and loose on him. Though it must be comfy, thought the dwarf. He, little by little, he moved around the elf and saw the elf’s face clearly. He knew that the elves had difficulties distinguishing mortals, likewise they could hardly tell apart two elves. So looking to the face of the elf didn’t imply the dwarf anything. Like all the other elves, this one had a fair face and pale skin. Only hair in the face was eyebrows and eyelashes which were dark since the elf’s hair was dark as well. Yet the dwarf felt like he did meet this elf but for the life of him, he couldn’t place where or when.
The dwarf moved until he was directly in front of the elf and scowled. Now, he was sure he had met this elf somewhere. After trying for a moment, he still couldn’t remember, he dismissed it as unimportant; he met so many elves here to count.
Suddenly, just before he turned back, the elf opened his eyes to look directly into the dwarf’s. Startled to the unexpected movement, Gimli stared to the blue-gray orbs. At the moment, it suddenly hit the dwarf like a ton of rocks. These eyes looking at him, shining with laughter, while taking another cup of ale from his hand. Dread and embarrassment rose up to his throat when he immediately remembered who this elf is. Out of all elves, he found this one to catch him while staring. As if he wasn’t already embarrassed to him enough. No wonder, the dwarf thought, he chose this secretive corner to sit.
Eyes lit up with recognition, Erandil gave a sincere smile to the dwarf. Thanks to the old dwarf, the father of the one standing in front of him, he had an enjoyable night yesterday.
As soon as the brunet elf took a step out of his room yesterday evening, after sleeping for hours he didn’t bother counting, he remembered an important characteristic of the elves of Imladris. They loved to talk. And apparently he was the subject of the day. It didn’t take a few seconds for him to be completely surrounded by curious elves and all through the rest of the day, he tried to get rid of them. With no luck. The only thing he accomplished was to add more people to the crowd around him. With such a rate that, by dinner he had the beginnings of a headache caused from the loud noises and other sensations - like smell - coming from his newly-high senses. After learning that the reason he didn’t answer any of their questions was not because he was rude and trying to get away from them - not that it would work - but because he couldn’t answer them; they decided to talk in his stead as well. Did he mention he never liked to be famous?
The brunet elf was about to excuse himself from the dinner when a dwarf came next to him and claimed, in a voice loud enough to silence everybody, that if he had ever lived as a dwarf, he would know how to drink ale, like one of them. A drinking game it was. After that moment, the night became enjoyable for the elf; the game was fun and afterwards he managed to reach his hobbit friends. Of course he won the game, guess the old dwarf didn’t know about the nearly-endless drinking ability of the elves. Still Erandil believed he convinced the dwarf about his before lives as one of his kind.
Smile still on his face, Erandil returned back to the present where the son of the said dwarf was murmuring apologies with a flushed face and unsure voice. The elf sighed inwardly, now, how to shut this dwarf up and explain him that what his father did yesterday did not embarrassed him at all, on the contrary he had quite an enjoyment?
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Hobbits have good phrases for situations like this, thought Gandalf wryly, looking to the scene in front of him. For example ‘while filling your stomach, don’t empty your mind’ might do the job, or maybe ‘learn secret-keeping before attempting to keep secrets’. He could find more of these sayings but currently the wizard stuck to one of them. ‘So much for secrecy’.
The subject of these thoughts smiled to them, sitting on the table in the center of the room, surrounded by books and parchments about Eregion history and Noldor family trees. He even had a book in his hands, one about royal families of Eregion. His smile was a sincere and good-hearted one, the Ishtar observed, as if he wasn’t aware of the reason for all the documents around him.
“Hello Erandil,” started Elrond, ever the calm one, “how are you feeling today?”
The brunet elf gave another smile, jumped down from the table and quickly wrote something to a parchment. Then gave it to Elrond and stood facing them with an eager expression for the answer.
“If you are feeling good enough,” answered Elrond to the written question, “you can start using your magic.”
The four of them watched as Erandil’s smile widened and face brightened, shining with happiness. He bowed to Elrond as if to thank him, which the elf did only respond with a raised eyebrow. Then he closed his blue-gray eyes and took a deep breath. What they felt afterwards was something like a strong wind, passing though them and taking their breath with it. Raw energy, noted Gandalf, spreading from the source. It took a few seconds to catch their breath and when they looked to the source of this energy, the elf in front of them had changed. His skin was glowing with a soft and barely noticeable light as if there was a light so powerful was within him that the skin can’t block it all, similar to a window curtain on a sunny day. His eyes were also shining with the same light, revealing their interesting color altogether.
Gandalf smiled, remembering the fond memories; this soft glow that all elven magicians seemed to carry with them. Now looking at Erandil, he had the urge to believe whatever the elf said and stop the research. The glow around him was powerful and controlled, indicating how strong a magician he really is. And looking to his eyes, Gandalf remembered the old hobbit’s words from yesterday, his eyes was like yours Gandalf, he had said, shining wisely and deeply. He noticed that until now he hadn’t totally understood what the hobbit had said. Those blue-gray orbs were filled with memories of different lives, so many of them. It was the eyes of someone who had experienced all emotions, had seen many sides of life and was still standing. Then the elf smiled and the Ishtar saw flicker of something there. Something that most people lost in the way of growing and maturing. Something, the old wizard believed, that will make the journey of the One Ring all more interesting. Mischief and childishness.
“I missed this feeling!” a voice shouted in the Ishtar’s head and snapped him away from his thoughts rather violently. Startled, he looked around only to see other elves looking back to him with the same expression he believed he was wearing now, shock and slight panic. For a few moments, they looked at each other, their panic increasing with moments. What was that? Whose voice was it? What happened that, they are all hearing someone in their heads in the same time? What feeling? Who missed it? And who was giggling now? Was it in their heads again?
“Did I surprise you?” said the same voice between giggles, in their heads again. “Sorry, it wasn’t my intention.”
Glorfindel slowly turned around as dread was piling in his stomach, with increasing speed. The brunet elf was trying to look innocent yet it was a difficult task with his immense amusement shining in his eyes. When everybody in the room turned to him with raised eyebrows and dread written on their faces, he couldn’t stop anymore. He grinned to them, his shoulders shaking a little with silent giggles. The blond elf lord, still wasn’t sure if his thoughts were being read, tried so hard not to think about childish, magician elven princes and how he wanted to wipe that grin of that face.
More than a few moments later, the three elves and the Ishtar got rid of their surprises and panic to the unbodied voice - which was, in fact, bodied - and convinced by the elf that no, he does not read minds or hear thoughts and no, again, what they heard were not his thoughts but were just what he wanted them to hear, kind of one-way telepathic talking.
It was before he was leaving the library that Erandil stopped suddenly and turned back to the search company.
“I just remembered,” he started, “in your research, I believe you calculated my age wrong. That’s why you can’t find me in any of these books.” The company looked up from their books and looked at him with a kind of apologetic expression. Erandil looked to the four of them and smiled, “This look is not needed, I totally understand your reasons for this research - I actually would have been more surprised if you didn’t do it - so let me help you a bit.” his smile turned into a grin, which alerted the company “I’m sure you’d remember that in an elven magician training, the student would be isolated from life, family, friends; everything but magic.” He looked to the faces and seeing expectant expressions, continued, “As a member of the royal family, from the moment I passed age one hundred, I had to do my duties as a prince. In fact, I was already over the age when father became the lord. Yet I wasn’t allowed to return to everyday life without mastering my magic. So it was decided that I wouldn’t be recorded as a prince until I finished my magician training. When I finished my education, Eregion was in war and not long after, our lord was captured and died.” He stopped for a moment, his grin crumbled. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, no sorrow could be seen in them. “Thus, I would recommend you to look into books of training magicians of Eregion since I am not recorded in family trees.” He winked to them, turned around and walked away. After he left the library, they heard the voice say “And good luck” in their heads.
Everyone stilled for a moment, digesting the information. Then Glorfindel entered the magicians section of the library and took the first book he saw, a book titled Eregion Magicians.
By the time Erestor stated “So, he wasn’t a master magician when he awakened the power of the Three.” he had already found what he was looking for. A name in the list of students. Erandil son of Celebrimbor.
Genre: Adventure
Summary: How would the quest for destroying the One Ring be like if Frodo wasn't what he seems? Eventual FrodoLegolas.
----------
Gandalf walked through the halls of the House of Elrond, humming to himself. After a good night’s sleep, he got rid of his conflicting thoughts and emotions over yesterday’s events. A new day, he mused, to think about the destiny of Middle Earth, lying in the hands of an elf not heard in history. The last part was what troubled him, how can he not know about a son of Celebrimbor, never even heard about him. How could he, who befriended elven magicians before they left, not know about one that plays such an important role? And actually, a voice in his mind scolded to him, who did you assume gave the power to the Three Rings? Three rings that nobody but Celebrimbor knew their existence until One Ring was forged. The Ishtar noticed, embarrassed, that he never thought about it. Eregion had many strong magicians but he never, ever thought about which of them might awaken the power of the Three. And why never in history had he heard about this magician, an expert in stones and an impressive influencer on the nature?
The wizard stopped in front of the room he wanted to enter. The door of the room was a white one, delicately worked on by elves, their graceful designs shining under the rising sun’s yellow rays. He looked around, the cool breeze hitting his face and making slight rustling sounds from nearby trees. Definitely, the House of Elrond looked beautiful in dawn. Turning back, he opened the door with a slight smile on his face.
The heavy smell was the first thing he noticed, an immediate change after the fresh air outside. Then the lack of light. For a moment he just stood there, blinking to adjust his eyes. When, lastly, he could see inside the room with no trouble, the scene in front of him made him raise one eyebrow. Three elves were looking to him with similar expressions, all carrying several books and parchments in their arms, coming from different directions of the great room. The big table at the centre of the room was filled with numerous books, papers and parchments, apparently carried by the three elves.
“I knew that the Library of Imladris was a well-known place but didn't expect it to find it with people in such an early hour.” The wizard said while walking towards the table and looking to the titles of the books. “I believe,” he continued, “our reasons for this early research are the same.” He looked to the tired faces of the elves, now standing near him after empting their armful of books and parchments to the table. “Do you need the help of a well-rested body and curious mind of a wizard?” he asked smiling.
“That would be definitely helpful.” replied Erestor, sitting down to a nearby chair and taking a deep breath.
“Never saw this table so full of books,” added Glorfindel leaning to a bookshelf, “yet not a clue.”
“And I had believed I knew the history of Eregion, word by word.” said Elrond from his place on one of the chairs around the table.
“So not a word about the son of Celebrimbor?” asked Gandalf.
“Not even mentioned.” groaned the blond elf. He was used to weapons and trainings instead of reading and doing researches for hours.
“His wife?”
“She was mentioned in a few of them. He was married to the daughter of a magician. One of the best in the realm.”
“Nevertheless, there is not a word about a son of them. Actually any child of them.”
“So,“ Gandalf murmured, “not enough evidence to believe his story.”
“Not enough? More like not any!”
There was a silence for a moment while all of them thought about the story of Erandil. After hearing the story from Bilbo, the three elves and the Ishtar in the room began to think about the gaps in the story. None of them asked the hobbit more questions believing it may raise a similar doubt from the other listeners as well - if not already. All of them considered asking the questions to the elf when he woke up. However, then they noticed - needless to say, this wasn’t expected - that even if they ask, they can get no answers from the elf. Of course there was still the possibility to ask the elf to write but this would arouse suspicion from the said elf, something they didn't want. So they began to search the books. Yet, as they searched though the books and family trees of Noldor, their belief to his story lessened even more. He might have easily lied to the hobbit since the old Bilbo was only saying what he heard from the elf. Nevertheless, the curse was real, for the hobbit really turned into an elf.
“I listened to the story again from Bilbo.” Gandalf broke the silence, “he gave more detail in private.” All elves raised their heads to look at him, expecting him to continue, “He filled some of the gaps of the story. Like why he was captured by Sauron.”
“Because he was the son of the creator of the Rings.” said Erestor, raising his eyebrows, “What did you find missing in this explanation?”
“I wondered it as well,” said Elrond, “It was known that Celebrimbor forged the rings alone. Sauron captured him only to learn the whereabouts of them. If the Dark Lord didn't believe Erandil knew about the Three, he wouldn’t capture him.”
“Couldn't it be guessed that, maybe he knew about them since he is the creator’s son?” asked Glorfindel, confused a bit.
“Not his wife, his advisor or fellow smiths but the son we couldn't find in the books. This is interesting” Elrond stopped slightly “and makes me doubt his captivity as well, since I found it hard to believe such a strong elven magic can be accomplished in Dark Lord’s place as well.”
“You no longer need to think about it, Master Elrond.” said Gandalf nodding to himself; he had similar doubts also, before he listened to Bilbo again. “Did you ever think who actually awakened the power of the Three and why we never heard about this magician before?” he started to tell what he learned from the old hobbit yesterday afternoon.
----------
Gimli walked in one of the several gardens of Rivendell, enjoying the view and glad to find a moment alone. Although his kind was never one for gardens and trees, he knew to appreciate good scenery and hard work. These gardens had both. He could easily see the hard work put into these plants and trees even with eyes of someone who could never tell the difference between two kinds of trees. He was thinking along the line of finding a good spot to sit when he suddenly spotted an elf sitting in a bench under a mighty tree.
He groaned silently behind his beard. This place was full of elves and he couldn’t find a spot without seeing any of them nearby! Even at such a reserved corner like this! The dwarf, for a second, believed that he finally found a place to listen to his own head, not their chattering in an unknown language. He was about to turn back to find another place in this beautiful garden or maybe another garden altogether, when he noticed the elf didn’t make any movement to acknowledge his presence. Actually he - or she for the dwarf wasn’t sure seeing as they all had long hair - didn’t even stir at all. The dwarf wondered if the elf is asleep - it was still an early hour in the morning - because if he learned anything about elves in his time in Rivendell, it was that they had sensitive senses. The elf, whoever it is, should have heard his footsteps already.
After he convinced himself that the elf won’t make any noise, he sat to a bench not so far from the one the elf was currently sitting. After a few more moments of admiring the gracefulness of the garden, he began to observe the elf. The dwarf, normally, wasn’t one to stare at people - especially elves - but he found that he could do it easily if the other one was sleeping. And the elf somehow aroused his interest; he couldn’t remember seeing him before with his father.
The elf was currently sitting in such an angle that the dwarf could see him from sideways. His dark brown hair was spilling over his shoulder in slight curls yet only the longest few tresses was past the shoulder. A pretty short hair for an elf, noted Gimli. Nearly all of the elves he saw had hair at least past shoulder-length, female’s was even longer. There wasn’t any braids in the hair as well, not usual again. He noted the pointy ear and nodded to himself. At least that part is not bizarre.
Gimli stood up and slowly walked toward the elf as silent as he can. He was wearing a simple robe that came until his ankles. Its color was between grey and green moreover looked big and loose on him. Though it must be comfy, thought the dwarf. He, little by little, he moved around the elf and saw the elf’s face clearly. He knew that the elves had difficulties distinguishing mortals, likewise they could hardly tell apart two elves. So looking to the face of the elf didn’t imply the dwarf anything. Like all the other elves, this one had a fair face and pale skin. Only hair in the face was eyebrows and eyelashes which were dark since the elf’s hair was dark as well. Yet the dwarf felt like he did meet this elf but for the life of him, he couldn’t place where or when.
The dwarf moved until he was directly in front of the elf and scowled. Now, he was sure he had met this elf somewhere. After trying for a moment, he still couldn’t remember, he dismissed it as unimportant; he met so many elves here to count.
Suddenly, just before he turned back, the elf opened his eyes to look directly into the dwarf’s. Startled to the unexpected movement, Gimli stared to the blue-gray orbs. At the moment, it suddenly hit the dwarf like a ton of rocks. These eyes looking at him, shining with laughter, while taking another cup of ale from his hand. Dread and embarrassment rose up to his throat when he immediately remembered who this elf is. Out of all elves, he found this one to catch him while staring. As if he wasn’t already embarrassed to him enough. No wonder, the dwarf thought, he chose this secretive corner to sit.
Eyes lit up with recognition, Erandil gave a sincere smile to the dwarf. Thanks to the old dwarf, the father of the one standing in front of him, he had an enjoyable night yesterday.
As soon as the brunet elf took a step out of his room yesterday evening, after sleeping for hours he didn’t bother counting, he remembered an important characteristic of the elves of Imladris. They loved to talk. And apparently he was the subject of the day. It didn’t take a few seconds for him to be completely surrounded by curious elves and all through the rest of the day, he tried to get rid of them. With no luck. The only thing he accomplished was to add more people to the crowd around him. With such a rate that, by dinner he had the beginnings of a headache caused from the loud noises and other sensations - like smell - coming from his newly-high senses. After learning that the reason he didn’t answer any of their questions was not because he was rude and trying to get away from them - not that it would work - but because he couldn’t answer them; they decided to talk in his stead as well. Did he mention he never liked to be famous?
The brunet elf was about to excuse himself from the dinner when a dwarf came next to him and claimed, in a voice loud enough to silence everybody, that if he had ever lived as a dwarf, he would know how to drink ale, like one of them. A drinking game it was. After that moment, the night became enjoyable for the elf; the game was fun and afterwards he managed to reach his hobbit friends. Of course he won the game, guess the old dwarf didn’t know about the nearly-endless drinking ability of the elves. Still Erandil believed he convinced the dwarf about his before lives as one of his kind.
Smile still on his face, Erandil returned back to the present where the son of the said dwarf was murmuring apologies with a flushed face and unsure voice. The elf sighed inwardly, now, how to shut this dwarf up and explain him that what his father did yesterday did not embarrassed him at all, on the contrary he had quite an enjoyment?
----------
Hobbits have good phrases for situations like this, thought Gandalf wryly, looking to the scene in front of him. For example ‘while filling your stomach, don’t empty your mind’ might do the job, or maybe ‘learn secret-keeping before attempting to keep secrets’. He could find more of these sayings but currently the wizard stuck to one of them. ‘So much for secrecy’.
The subject of these thoughts smiled to them, sitting on the table in the center of the room, surrounded by books and parchments about Eregion history and Noldor family trees. He even had a book in his hands, one about royal families of Eregion. His smile was a sincere and good-hearted one, the Ishtar observed, as if he wasn’t aware of the reason for all the documents around him.
“Hello Erandil,” started Elrond, ever the calm one, “how are you feeling today?”
The brunet elf gave another smile, jumped down from the table and quickly wrote something to a parchment. Then gave it to Elrond and stood facing them with an eager expression for the answer.
“If you are feeling good enough,” answered Elrond to the written question, “you can start using your magic.”
The four of them watched as Erandil’s smile widened and face brightened, shining with happiness. He bowed to Elrond as if to thank him, which the elf did only respond with a raised eyebrow. Then he closed his blue-gray eyes and took a deep breath. What they felt afterwards was something like a strong wind, passing though them and taking their breath with it. Raw energy, noted Gandalf, spreading from the source. It took a few seconds to catch their breath and when they looked to the source of this energy, the elf in front of them had changed. His skin was glowing with a soft and barely noticeable light as if there was a light so powerful was within him that the skin can’t block it all, similar to a window curtain on a sunny day. His eyes were also shining with the same light, revealing their interesting color altogether.
Gandalf smiled, remembering the fond memories; this soft glow that all elven magicians seemed to carry with them. Now looking at Erandil, he had the urge to believe whatever the elf said and stop the research. The glow around him was powerful and controlled, indicating how strong a magician he really is. And looking to his eyes, Gandalf remembered the old hobbit’s words from yesterday, his eyes was like yours Gandalf, he had said, shining wisely and deeply. He noticed that until now he hadn’t totally understood what the hobbit had said. Those blue-gray orbs were filled with memories of different lives, so many of them. It was the eyes of someone who had experienced all emotions, had seen many sides of life and was still standing. Then the elf smiled and the Ishtar saw flicker of something there. Something that most people lost in the way of growing and maturing. Something, the old wizard believed, that will make the journey of the One Ring all more interesting. Mischief and childishness.
“I missed this feeling!” a voice shouted in the Ishtar’s head and snapped him away from his thoughts rather violently. Startled, he looked around only to see other elves looking back to him with the same expression he believed he was wearing now, shock and slight panic. For a few moments, they looked at each other, their panic increasing with moments. What was that? Whose voice was it? What happened that, they are all hearing someone in their heads in the same time? What feeling? Who missed it? And who was giggling now? Was it in their heads again?
“Did I surprise you?” said the same voice between giggles, in their heads again. “Sorry, it wasn’t my intention.”
Glorfindel slowly turned around as dread was piling in his stomach, with increasing speed. The brunet elf was trying to look innocent yet it was a difficult task with his immense amusement shining in his eyes. When everybody in the room turned to him with raised eyebrows and dread written on their faces, he couldn’t stop anymore. He grinned to them, his shoulders shaking a little with silent giggles. The blond elf lord, still wasn’t sure if his thoughts were being read, tried so hard not to think about childish, magician elven princes and how he wanted to wipe that grin of that face.
More than a few moments later, the three elves and the Ishtar got rid of their surprises and panic to the unbodied voice - which was, in fact, bodied - and convinced by the elf that no, he does not read minds or hear thoughts and no, again, what they heard were not his thoughts but were just what he wanted them to hear, kind of one-way telepathic talking.
It was before he was leaving the library that Erandil stopped suddenly and turned back to the search company.
“I just remembered,” he started, “in your research, I believe you calculated my age wrong. That’s why you can’t find me in any of these books.” The company looked up from their books and looked at him with a kind of apologetic expression. Erandil looked to the four of them and smiled, “This look is not needed, I totally understand your reasons for this research - I actually would have been more surprised if you didn’t do it - so let me help you a bit.” his smile turned into a grin, which alerted the company “I’m sure you’d remember that in an elven magician training, the student would be isolated from life, family, friends; everything but magic.” He looked to the faces and seeing expectant expressions, continued, “As a member of the royal family, from the moment I passed age one hundred, I had to do my duties as a prince. In fact, I was already over the age when father became the lord. Yet I wasn’t allowed to return to everyday life without mastering my magic. So it was decided that I wouldn’t be recorded as a prince until I finished my magician training. When I finished my education, Eregion was in war and not long after, our lord was captured and died.” He stopped for a moment, his grin crumbled. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, no sorrow could be seen in them. “Thus, I would recommend you to look into books of training magicians of Eregion since I am not recorded in family trees.” He winked to them, turned around and walked away. After he left the library, they heard the voice say “And good luck” in their heads.
Everyone stilled for a moment, digesting the information. Then Glorfindel entered the magicians section of the library and took the first book he saw, a book titled Eregion Magicians.
By the time Erestor stated “So, he wasn’t a master magician when he awakened the power of the Three.” he had already found what he was looking for. A name in the list of students. Erandil son of Celebrimbor.