Lu Vinui: First Love

Beta: Ilye

chapter one

Imladris, Ethuil - 1718 of the Second Age

Erestor looked over the correspondence from Oropher's realm. It seemed the temperamental King of Greenwood was throwing another tantrum about how Gil-galad had slighted him in some way... Erestor was not sure. He could not understand where Oropher pulled these accusations from. The High King never spoke of the Greenwood King. In fact, this was the first true moment of peace the Elves this side of the Misty Mountains had been able to enjoy. Erestor put the letter to the side and looked out on the vast valley that sprawled just outside the windows of his office.

His view also showed him that there was a large delegation coming in the main gates. The banners flown were those of Lindon, and Erestor wondered why so many from the seaside city had come to Elrond. He watched as Elrond and Glorfindel appeared to welcome the group, with Celeborn and Galadriel standing quietly behind them. Erestor was sure Celebrian was floating around the house somewhere, but she strongly disliked meeting guests.

The Chief Councilor smiled to himself. He knew his Lord was quite smitten with the silver-haired She-Elf and wondered how long they would wait before announcing an engagement. He could not think of a more suitable Lady for his Lord and knew they would make a wonderful match. Erestor noticed Glorfindel calling Lindir close to him and speak to him, motioning in Erestor's direction. Lindir nodded and began to lead about a dozen Elves through the courtyard toward Erestor's office.

Lindir shuffled into the room. He was still intimidated by the Noldo, knowing from the gossip about the Last Homely House that Erestor was a very distinguished Lord. The Councilor had dwelled in Himring during the First Age; the piercing dark eyes that regarded him now had once regarded Maedhros. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "My Lord Erestor, Lord Elrond wanted me to escort these Elves to you. He said they are from the High King's court and will be welcomed into the household's employ. Lord Elrond defers to your judgment wherein each will do their best for Imladris."

Erestor nodded, and Lindir stepped aside. He would escort the group to their quarters once Erestor had assigned them positions within the house. Each would be given chambers befitting their station and status. The Councilor caught the attention of each Elf before him and measured them up. "I am Lord Erestor, Lord Elrond's Chief Councilor, and I maintain the mundane aspects of the household. You will be quartered in the main house, and you may take meals alone in your rooms or in the main hall at the designated times. You will also be given four sets of formal robes to be worn during the workday. You will be issued a small stipend once a week. We do not pay a large sum since all your needs will be met while in the employment of Lord Elrond. There is always room for advancement and you will find me to be a strict, but fair, taskmaster. Are there any questions?" When no one spoke up, Erestor nodded and moved to sit behind one of the empty desks in the library.

The dark-haired Elf pulled out some parchment and dipped a quill into some ink. He waved the first Elf to him. "What is your name and your occupation?" The young She-Elf looked at her feet and mumbled something Erestor could barely make out. "Speak up, iell," he said sharply. It was one thing for Elrond to want him to set these Elves to their tasks, but holding the hand of a shy Elf-maid was not what the cool Noldo needed when he had so much to do this day.

"Haradiel, my Lord," she said in a stronger voice. Erestor nodded and in his perfect, flowing script he placed her name on the parchment. With his hand poised next to her name, he waited impatiently for her To tell him what it was she could do in a house. He finally had to look up at her with narrowed, annoyed eyes. "Oh! I was the High King's chambermaid."

"Then you will take up with the domestic staff. Are you able to launder linens?"

"Aye, my Lord."

"Then I will place you under Bellbeneth's supervision. She is the head laundress in the house. You will report to her in two days' time, one hour before sun rise, is that clear?" When she nodded he wrote down her new station and her pay. "Lindir, have someone see her to the White Hall and put her in the room with the other morning laundress." Lindir nodded, pulled the Elf with him, and handed her off to one of the passing pages, telling him where to take her.

That was how the next hour passed for the Councilor. When he came to the last Elf, his page was almost full. He looked to Lindir. "Fourteen new arrivals." He was ignoring the mousy Elf shifting on his feet uncomfortably before him.

"Most to the domestic staff."

"Aye," Erestor said, reviewing his list once again. "But, I now have a Head Librarian and two Archivists. That will make things easier. I will no longer have to spend every other day with the Scribes." He dipped his quill into the ink once again and addressed the young Elf in front of him.

"Your name and skill?"

The Elf looked down at the cold gaze that seemed to see into his soul. He had never met another Elf so unwelcoming or as elegant as Lord Erestor. He had seen the tall, slender Councilor many times at the High King's court and had always held a silent respect and sense of awe for the Elf-lord. When Erestor lifted an exquisite eyebrow in expectation at him, he cleared his throat. "Lothvaen, my Lord. I was Lord Tirnion's personal secretary."

Erestor nodded, added the name and position to the roster, and then thought for a moment. "I am not sure that any of the staff need a secretary. Lord Elrond has Lindir. Lord Glorfindel has Lúthwen. Lord Celeborn has Haldir, and the Lady Galadriel also has a personal maid-servant." He ran through his mind, ticking off each Lord and Lady who could possibly need a secretary, but could find no one whom had put in with him that they needed one. "Perhaps we can demote you to a Scribe or Archivist until a position opens up?"

Lindir cleared his throat and flushed slightly when both Elves looked toward him. "If I may, my Lord?"

"Yes, Lindir?" he asked.

"It comes to my mind that you have no personal assistant."

Erestor chuckled, the mirth not reaching his eyes. "No, Lindir. I do not. That is because I am not in need of one."

"Of course you are!" came the over-exuberant exclamation from the doorway. Erestor glared at the golden-haired Elda.

"Glorfindel, keep to the barracks and the patrol roster. I know what is needed and not needed within the ranks of the Last Homely House." Erestor was about to assign the young Elf to the new Head Librarian as an Archivist, but Glorfindel stayed his hand.

"It is unfair to demote someone because you are too proud to take him into your employment. You do need a secretary, Erestor. I think it would do you a world of good." Glorfindel smiled broadly, his deep blue eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned in and said loud enough for Lothvaen to hear, "He's also quite attractive. Perhaps he could melt that cold heart of yours and make life for Elrond and I slightly more bearable!"

Erestor's eyes moved between Glorfindel's laughing face and the averted eyes of the new Elf as he tried desperately not to show he heard the Elda's words. Erestor glowered at Glorfindel. "You are out of line, Seneschal."

Glorfindel was not deterred. "I am always out of line, Councilor."

"If I make him my secretary, will you leave me in peace and pester Elrond?"

"Aye, Erestor. I will remove myself from your heart-warming presence."

"Very well." He turned to Lothvaen. "You will be my personal assistant. Report to me tomorrow morning here and I will show you my office. You will be paid six silver pieces a week and be housed in the Steward Hall with the other secretaries and assistants. I will have Lindir bring you robes this afternoon."

Lothvaen nodded, thrilled he would not be demoted. The six silver pieces was a lower pay than he had received in Lindon, but he had been responsible for his own clothing, food, and supplies. "Thank you, my Lord."

"Lindir, show him to the room beside Lúthwen's. It should be fresh and have everything Lothvaen will need." Lindir nodded and signaled for Lothvaen to join him in the hall. Glorfindel followed them out, heading to his office, still chuckling to himself.

Erestor replaced the quill and ink, sighing and rubbing his temples. Glorfindel had been a thorn in his side for centuries uncounted. And now he was stuck with a secretary he did not need or want. He sighed and took the roster back into his office, opening the household books and preparing to add the new members of the staff.


Lothvaen quietly followed Lindir, observing the white-haired Elf from the corner of his eye. For a secretary, the Elf held a certain amount of dignity that Lothvaen had rarely seen in domestic staff. Lindir smiled slightly and Lothvaen realized that he had been caught staring.

"Is there anything you wish to know, Lothvaen?" Lindir gripped his hands behind his back and regarded the other Elf with interest.

Lothvaen cleared his throat. "When are meals served?"

"From dawn until nine, eleven until one and the evening meal is served promptly at six. All members of the household are required to be present for the evening meal unless their absence has been cleared with Lords Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, or Celeborn." Lindir stopped before a heavy oak door and swung it open, revealing a modest chamber. "Secretaries and Archivists are afforded more... elaborate suites. You will find the sitting room, a main bed chamber, and small office. We use the public baths, which are always available no matter the hour."

Lothvaen nodded and entered the room. "My things...?"

"I will have them brought up to you and I will come back in a few hours once I locate some robes suitable for you. Lord Erestor will not tolerate his orders being delayed." Lindir turned to leave, but came back to stand in front of the dark-haired Elf. "Welcome to Imladris, Lothvaen. Lord Erestor may seem distant and harsh, but he truly isn't."

"How long have you known him?" Lothvaen placed the smaller pack he had with him on one of the chairs in the sitting area.

"I have served Lord Elrond for the last six centuries--"

Lothvaen lifted his hand, shaking his head. "And you have not moved up in your station?"

Lindir smiled. "I have not wished to advance. I enjoy being in his employment. In those six centuries," he continued, "Lord Erestor has been Elrond's closest companion."

Lothvaen thought for a moment. "He was in the High King's court long before I arrived..." he mumbled.

The fair-haired Elf nodded. "Aye. He came into the King's service even before Lord Elrond had."

"He is old, then?"

Lindir chuckled. "That he is. I know he dwelled in Himring before he went to Lindon, but that is all I know."

"Himring?" the Noldo said, astonishment evident in his voice.

"Aye. Now, I will go and fetch those robes and have your possessions brought up." Lindir bowed slightly to the younger Elf. "Lord Erestor is a private Elf; he does not disclose his personal life to many. In fact, I am sure only Lords Elrond, Celeborn and Glorfindel know who our Councilor truly is under all the black robes and sense of duty." With that last statement, the elder Elf left the room, leaving Lothvaen slightly reeling.

He sighed and looked around the room, feeling terribly tired. This was not going to be an easy task, but Lothvaen had been in worse situations than serving a grouchy Councilor. He smiled and went into his new bedroom, throwing himself on the soft mattress and drifting off for a small nap before the evening meal.


Lothvaen made his way to the office Lindir had pointed out to him the night before. The Elf adjusted his robes for the third time, finding the heavy material uncomfortable. While in Lindon, his robes were of light silk and cotton, in pale blues and greens. The robes of Imladris were much different: suffocating wool and heavy cottons in deep reds and browns. He knocked firmly on the door to Erestor's office and shifted in the robes once more. After a moment, Erestor called for him to enter, and Lothvaen pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Erestor's office was much like the Elf himself, Lothvaen thought. The room was orderly and perfectly clean without so much as a quill out of place. Lothvaen could see why Erestor thought he did not need an assistant. Erestor sat behind his desk going over several books and pieces of parchment. The bottomless black eyes met his and Lothvaen felt uncharacteristically nervous. He cleared his throat. "My Lord, is there anything I can do for you?"

Erestor shook his head, returning to his work. "No, pen neth, there is nothing I need you to do. You are here to placate Glorfindel before he drove me mad."

Lothvaen's brow furrowed and he cocked his head slightly. "Am I to watch you for the day, then?"

The older Elf shook his head. "You are more than welcome to go to the main library and see if Anneruon needs help with the ordering of the newest shipment of books from Lindon."

Lothvaen felt his temper flare slightly, a feat unto itself since the Elf was normally quite resigned. "My Lord, I am here to aid you, not to be pawned off onto Master Anneruon when he already has his two Archivists and three pages to aid him in his organizing and inventory."

Erestor raised his eyes once more, not appreciating the tone the younger Elf was taking with him. "Lothvaen, you are not needed here. I suggest you remember your place and do as I say."

The secretary placed his hands on his hips, his anger finally winning over his need to make a decent impression with the Councilor. "I know my station! I am your aide, my Lord. For months you have been doing the job of three Elves -- you have been Lord Elrond's Councilor, the Head Librarian, and undertaking all the duties associated with running the domestic staff. In this neat and perfectly organized room there must be something I can do to ease the burden of such a demanding position!"

The Councilor's eyes went wide. "I beg your pardon?" he asked incredulously.

Lothvaen's chin lifted just a fraction and he stared right at the dismayed Elf. "It is simply the truth, my Lord. Now, please, allow me to fulfill my duty to you and Lord Elrond's house as I was bid when I left Lindon, and give me a task to perform that will ease your workload."

Erestor let out a sigh of exasperation and looked about him. His gaze fell on the household roster and he picked it up. "Your desk is there." He pointed to smaller desk by the window, filled with parchment, ink and quills. "Take these," he said, handing his insistent secretary the filled book and a larger blank one, "And copy the original roster into the new one. I have run out of room to add new household members."

Lothvaen nodded, took the two items from his Lord, and went to his desk. He smiled smugly to himself as he opened the filled book and leafed through it to find Erestor's system before he began to copy the information over.

Yes, this was going to be a most difficult working relationship if Erestor would only give him work if he demanded it from him.


Erestor shed his thick, black robe and placed it with his linens to be laundered the following day. His undershirt and trousers followed the robe as he made his way to his private bath. There were many advantages of being Elrond's Chief Councilor, but Erestor used only a few of them. His private bath and spacious suite were one of those boons. He drew his bath, adding his one indulgence to the water. The ginger scented oil's fragrance filled the room and caused a smile to turn the corners of the Elf's lips.

He lowered himself into the warm water, letting the day's hassles melt away with the steam. Erestor had to admit, at least to himself, that those hassles were made fewer and more bearable by his new secretary. Lothvaen had been in his office every day for the last five days and had been a diligent and efficient employee. When he wasn't demanding work from the Councilor, he was silent and swift in his tasks. His copies of scrolls and ledgers were bold and perfectly legible, his filing was always correct, he never had to be corrected a second time, and he respected Erestor's need for space.

Erestor dipped his head below the water, and when he came up, he sighed. Glorfindel had been right. Erestor quickly finished his bath, washing his waist-length raven hair and rinsing the rest of the suds from his body. He wrapped himself in a warm, plush towel and grabbed a second that he began drying his tresses with. He stopped at his bureau, picked up the phial of oil, and coated his hands. His fingers ran easily through the damp mass of hair, and he began quietly humming to himself.

The Councilor chuckled. If anyone knew how he pampered himself or that he loved to sing, he would never live it down. His indifferent exterior made him invaluable to Elrond and he could never lose that upper hand. After finishing with his hair, he rubbed the residual oil into his skin, inhaling the sharp, hot scent of the citrus-ginger scented liquid. He felt centered and calm as he went to his wardrobe and pulled out his favorite set of sleeping trousers. The cotton whispered against his skin; the thin fabric was perfect for the warm Spring evening.

He pulled down his bedclothes and was about to extinguish the lamps in his room when there was a knock at his door. Erestor looked out of his balcony doors and saw Ithil had risen high in the sky. It was late. He frowned and walked to the door, pulling it open and glowering at the figure that stood outside his room.

"Lothvaen?" he asked, his scowl deepening. The younger Elf's eyes were wide and Erestor realized he had not slipped on his evening robe before answering the door. He pushed aside his immediate thought of retrieving the silk garment; he was ready for bed and would not cover up because his secretary decided to show up unannounced late in the night. "What is it you need, Lothvaen?" he asked impatiently.

"I..." was all Lothvaen managed as he took in the sight of his half- clad Lord. He had never thought he would see Erestor in such a state and was taken aback by the perfection he saw before him. Pale, firm muscles had been hidden by the dark, severe robes. Lothvaen realized that the body before him was one that a warrior possessed, not a simple scholar like himself. This was also the first time Lothvaen had seen Erestor's hair unbraided, the glistening, damp locks a sharp contrast against the alabaster skin.

"Lothvaen, I would like to return to bed. If you wouldn't mind...?" Erestor crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at the stunned Elf.

Lothvaen blushed furiously and averted his eyes. "My Lord, I finished the first volume you gave to me two days ago and wished to begin the second, but I do not know where to find it. I did not wish to enter your study without your permission."

Erestor shook his head. "Pen neth, leave it for now. It is late. You have two days without work; do not feel you must impress me by working yourself to exhaustion."

"It is not that, my Lord. I merely hate leaving things unfinished."

"Your dedication is admirable," the elder Noldo said, stifling a yawn, "But misplaced. This task is not especially important to me -- certainly not to the point of my running down the hallways half-naked to fetch a book for you."

Lothvaen nodded, keeping a very studious straight face at the image that statement sent rushing through his mind. "I am sorry to have bothered you, then. Sleep well, my Lord." He turned around and began the walk back to his rooms, thankful for the first time for the thickness of the Imladrian robes as it mercifully concealed certain other... effects that Erestor's appearance had caused in the younger Elf.