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A Price for Peace	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2268 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. No money is being made from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1

Erestor and Glorfindel were visiting the town of Bree. Glorfindel had a bit of trading business with the local men there, and Erestor decided to join him. It had been many years since the counselor visited the town, and it did not take him long to remember why. Bree was a trading town, and many types of characters dwelled there. Most were honest hard working men, but some were a bit too shady. While Glorfindel was used to dealing with the type, Erestor stayed clear of them. He didn’t like having to constantly look over his shoulder, nor did he like confrontation. He was, however, a good negotiator when the situation was legitimate, and found himself doing just that.
While Glorfindel dealt with the traders, Erestor happened upon a small, almost hidden store, wedged between a butcher and a tailor’s shop. It looked as though the alley between the two bigger stores had been bricked up and a wooden door put in place for entry. There was no sign, just the words, ‘Oswin’s Archives’, etched into the thick oak door. The light of a lantern flickered through a half moon window about eye level on the door. Erestor tried the handle and found it unlocked, so he slowly opened it.
“Hello, are you open for business?” he called before he entered.
There was a scrambling of papers and the sound of a chair scooting away from a desk. Someone made mumbling noises and out popped a rather short plump man wearing thick brown robes, rough worn shoes with holes in the toes, and a funny looking wooly brown cap on his bald head.
“Good day, my sir,” the man called towards the door without looking, as he fumbled with a stack of yellowed parchments on his desk. “And what might you be needing on this very fine day?”
Erestor glanced over his shoulder, out at the wet street. Today was anything but fine. It had rained most of the night, leaving the streets puddled and muddy. The air was heavy with moisture and there hadn’t been any sun in three days to dry everything out.
He turned back to the storeowner and cleared his throat. “Well, if this is a very fine day, I would hate to see what a bad day looks like.”
The storeowner chuckled. “Any day that a patron frequents my establishment is a good day. I don’t get many a customer, you see.” He paused and shook his head slowly back and forth. “There is not much need for literature in Bree … unfortunately.”
“It was an unexpected find on my part as well,” Erestor said with a smile, and he extended his hand. “I’m Erestor, Chief Counselor to Lord Elrond of Rivendell.”
The little man’s eyes lit up as he gave Erestor his hand to shake. “Oh my, it is an honor to be sure, my sir, to have an elf amongst us, and one of great importance to boot. I am Oswin … as you might have noticed on my door.”
Erestor shook hands and smiled most graciously, “An elf I am for sure, but one of great importance … I believe that title would go to my companion, Lord Glorfindel.”
“I know of Lord Glorfindel. He has done plenty of business in Bree, but not once has he visited my store. Not a literary man then?” Oswin asked as one brow arched in question.
Erestor laughed to himself. “No, I’m afraid he takes a more … hands on approach. He hasn’t the patience as those of us who enjoy a good read.”
“Oh, such a shame then,” the shop keeper said disappointedly, “Well, that leaves more for you and me, doesn’t it?” He brightened instantly and bid Erestor to follow him into the store, “So, are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Actually, I wasn’t looking at all. I happened upon your shop quite by accident. Perhaps advertising of some sort would bring in more customers.”
“Ho … I’m lucky to have this small space. You see, I am a great collector of books, and when my home became too cluttered, I had to find room elsewhere. The larger shops were either occupied or too costly for a man such as myself, but when I heard of the quarrel between Hobbs and Brown, I knew I’d found my place.”
Erestor cocked his head to the side in curiosity. “Hobbs and Brown?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know about it I suppose,” the chubby owner explained. “Hobbs is the tailor and Brown is the butcher, and the argument between them started over a woman.”
“Say no more,” said Erestor, “Wars have been waged all because of the admiration of a woman.”
“War, yes, you could say that. Hobbs and Brown were business partners at one time, until they were both swept off their feet by the lady Belamine.” Oswin paused. “I beg your pardon, I haven’t considered that you might be in a hurry, and here I am rambling on.”
“I have plenty of time. I came here with Lord Glorfindel, and he is off tending to business. Please go on. This sounds like a fascinating story,” replied Erestor.
Oswin smiled and waved Erestor over to his desk. “Since you’ll stay, would you care for some tea? It’s a special blend with a bit of spice. I hope you don’t mind spice.” The storeowner retrieved two cups from a nearby shelf, and placed them on the desk where a black teapot sat on a warmer, steam rising from its spout.
“Sounds delicious, if you have a bit of honey?” asked Erestor, settling down onto a plush chair next to the desk.
“Of course I have honey,” Oswin said as he pushed a little honey pot towards Erestor. “The best thing in tea if you ask me.”
Oswin poured the tea and fixed his the way he liked it after Erestor was comfortable. “Now then, where was I? Oh yes … the Lady Belamine, lovely to look at, but a bit prone to overdramatizing to gain attention.”
“And expensive taste from what you’ve said,” Erestor added.
Oswin chuckled with a hearty ‘ho ho’ and continued. “Very perceptive of you. Yes, Belamine liked the finer things to be sure. I suppose that’s what got my neighbors into trouble. You see, she was looking to marry the man who could provide for her the best, and since they were partners, they shared their wealth. At the time, they dealt in common trade, anything from herbs to costly jewels. One month business might be up, and the next it might be down. That’s how the quarrel started you know. They were each trying to outdo the other man, and whoever was performing the best was obtaining the attention of Lady Belamine. Eventually, the men broke off their partnership, and they opened their own separate businesses. Brown became a butcher and Hobbs became a tailor. They split the shop right down the middle by erecting a wall to separate the two stores, but it was still too close for comfort. They eavesdropped through the adjoining wall, especially when Lady Belamine came to visit. There were more arguments and more disagreements between them, so much so that they were losing customers, and their businesses began to suffer. It would have been the end of them both if I hadn’t come along, and suggested that they each give up a little space and make a buffer between the two stores. Then, I offered to rent the space between, on the grounds that my books would block out any sound between them. I gave them what rent I could afford. The space was just big enough for my collection, and Hobbs and Brown could no longer listen in on each other, allowing them each the space and privacy they needed to court the Lady Belamine.”
Erestor was enjoying the story and the tea. Oswin was a charismatic man, a nice change from the everyday things and people of Rivendell. He carefully sat his cup on the desk and leaned forward. “And whatever happened to the Lady Belamine? Who did she finally choose, Hobbs or Brown?”
“Neither,” Oswin chuckled, his cheeks quite plump and pink as he went on. “The Lady Belamine caught the attention of the blacksmith across the street, Alden Foss … the best smithy in town, and done well for himself too. Belamine started spending her time there whenever Hobbs and Brown started ranting with each other. Alden wasted no time, and they married not long after,” the man said matter of fact.
Erestor and Oswin shared in a laugh at the finish of the story and the tea. As enjoyable as it was, this was a business and surely Oswin had things to do, Erestor thought. And there was no telling how long Glorfindel might be. If he was successful, it wouldn’t take long.
“So you say you are a collector?” Erestor asked.
“I’ve been compiling books for thirty years now, some rare, some not so rare. If there’s something you are looking for, chances are I will have it.”
Erestor and Oswin discussed their personal collections and the things that were missing from them. It turned out that Erestor had a book of elven lore that Oswin had been searching for, and Oswin had a manuscript written by a scribe from Dale of the accounts of the dragon Smaug and the attack on the old city.
“He saw it first hand, mind you, so what is written is actual proof, not just hyped faerie tales. It’s one of a kind,” said Oswin. “There’s even scorch marks on a few of the papers.”
Erestor was having fun negotiating for this rare document, but he knew he would have to trade for more than just elvish lore. “I will make a deal with you. In addition to the book you inquire about, I’ll let you have something very unique, and like your manuscript, there is no other like it. I happen to have a document written in the early Third Age, by a squire named Ohtar.”
Oswin suddenly became very serious and business like, “Ohtar … scribe to Isildur?”
“The very same, yes. You recall the Battle of the Gladden Fields, when Isildur was attacked by orcs and tragically slain?” Erestor spoke with a hushed voice, as though someone might be listening.
“I have heard the tales. It was fought under the eaves of Greenwood the Great. Not many survived. Ohtar was one of the few, only because he was commanded to seek refuge in Rivendell, and with him, Narsil … Isildur’s father’s sword,” Oswin answered in his own quiet voice.
Erestor leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands folded, “It took Ohtar months to reach Rivendell, and this document tells of all the dangers he encountered along the way.”
Oswin’s mouth opened in amazement, “Oh, now that is a special piece of history, and I bet not many know of it.”
“Almost no one, but I found it one day, while rifling through some old archives in Lord Elrond’s libraries. Ohtar wrote about his experiences with no intention of passing it on to anyone. I can’t be sure why, maybe to cleanse his mind. He mentioned reoccurring nightmares in one of the documents. It was a very trying and horrid experience for him. He was lucky to make it to Rivendell.”
Oswin leaned back in his chair, and rested his folded hands on his round belly. He twiddled his thumbs, taking a moment to think about his prospected trade. “So, you would part with this document in exchange for the Dale manuscripts?”
“And the book of elvish lore,” added Erestor.
“Seems a fair and easy trade,” Oswin answered.
Erestor leaned back in his chair now, and stretched his long legs out before him. “I am a simple elf, Oswin, and you seem an honest man.”
They worked out the details of the trade. Erestor would send someone to Bree with the book and documents, and bring back the Dale manuscripts. Perhaps he would send Canyo, his apprentice. He was a very eager ellon, always ready to carry out any task.
Once finished with the arrangements, Oswin chuckled and his belly bounced. “I’d make all my business with the elves if I could. Genuine folk you all are, easy to deal with, and always ready with an entertaining story or song.”
“Perhaps you will come to Rivendell one day, and bring your books. I think you would find business quite agreeable there.”
“Oh, now that would be a treat. I would truly appreciate a tour of Lord Elrond’s libraries,” said Oswin, fascinated with the idea.
“I will personally be your guide,” Erestor said as he stood from his comfortable chair. “This has been a most enjoyable time, but I’m afraid I must be going. Lord Glorfindel will be finishing his business soon, and then we will be on our way.”
Oswin wiggled up from his slouched position and got to his feet. “It has been a great joy for sure, Erestor. Please come back and visit me again, and I promise to try to come to Rivendell. It would be an honor to see the hidden city of Imladris.”
“Come when you are able. You have a standing invitation,” said Erestor, and shook hands with Oswin before leaving the bookstore.
* * *
The rain was gone for good it seemed, as the sun was peeking through breaks in the clouds. Perhaps it would be a nice day after all, Erestor thought to himself. He smiled as his next thought went to the short stout bookstore owner, Oswin. What an enjoyable time Erestor had had with him. It was always good to meet another book enthusiast, especially one willing to trade.
As he walked along, something dashed across his path, almost tripping him. He looked down and didn’t see anything. Then he felt his long robe being tugged from behind. Erestor turned to find a small puppy with the embroidered edge of his fine blue robe clamped tight in its mouth.
“Hey!” he said in a demanding tone, and tried to pull his robe away, but the little brown ball of fluff was having none of it. The tiny dog bounced backwards, growling and shaking its head, refusing to release Erestor’s clothing.
“Go find a rabbit to chase, and leave my robe alone,” Erestor complained. He looked up and down and across the street, hoping to see the puppy’s owner, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention or coming to his rescue. He crouched down and gently pulled his robe and the puppy along with it until the fur ball was within reach. Erestor picked it up, and the dog released the robe, its mouth open, tongue curled, and panting. It was very comical looking, as if it were laughing.
“Think it’s funny do you?” Erestor said, and the puppy wiggled in his arms until it was close enough to lick his face. He laughed and scratched it behind its floppy ears. Then he stood up, taking the puppy along with him. Erestor held it around the chest and extended his arms. The little dog’s hind legs dangled limply, but its tail wagged rapidly back and forth.
Erestor examined the pup. “Well, you’re a girl I see. That explains the mischief.”
The puppy wriggled wildly, and Erestor put her down before he dropped her. “So where is your family?” He glanced around the street again, hoping to find someone, but with no luck.
The pup stood up on her back legs and pawed at Erestor’s shins, making a high pitched whimper that sounded just pitiful. “Oh no you don’t. I’m not falling for that act. You must have an owner somewhere close by, or at least a mother and your other siblings. You don’t look as though you are starving.”
Just then, a wagon whizzed by, pulled by a large black workhorse with hooves that were as big as the small pup. The man in the wagon was yelling to the horse, making it trot along even faster. The horse’s feet and the wooden wagon wheels made an awful racket as they passed Erestor. Once they were by, he looked down to find the puppy missing, but something shivering against his ankle beneath his robes. He lifted it, and there was the little dog, quaking with fear, afraid of the giant horse and the loud man. Erestor reached down and picked her up, cradling the pup to his chest. He was immediately rewarded with sloppy wet kisses.
“You’re welcome, but I suggest you get used to it. There is a lot of traffic in Bree, especially if you choose to make the streets your home.” At that comment, the little brown pup cuddled her head on Erestor’s shoulder, and gave a deep relieving sigh in his ear. Erestor patted the puppy’s head and gave his own sigh. “Oh, you’re good aren’t you? I suppose you think you’ve won me over, and I will take you home, feed you, make a warm place for you to lay by the hearth, and give you a name. Well, think again. First of all, I do not live here, and second, the last thing I need is a pet.” As he talked, he felt the small body go limp as she went to sleep.
“I see you’ve made a new friend. Should I be jealous?”
Erestor spun around to see Glorfindel standing with his arms crossed, head tilted, and an irresistible smile that curled the corners of his mouth.
“And how long have you been watching me?” Erestor asked, keeping the excitement of seeing Glorfindel in check. It always gave him a thrill to know the elf lord was secretly watching him.
“Long enough to see that you will find it very difficult to put that little fellow down,” Glorfindel replied with a laugh.
“That fellow is a lady, and I can’t just leave her on the street. Maybe I should ask around in some of the shops, see if she belongs to anyone.”
Glorfindel walked up to Erestor and petted the pup. “I’d say she’s yours. Obviously she trusts you or she would not have fallen asleep in your arms so easily.”
“She was frightened,” Erestor rebutted. “And you know how often puppies sleep.”
Glorfindel reached out for the pup, and Erestor handed her over. “She’s very soft isn’t she?” said Glorfindel.
“Yes, she is.” Erestor caressed the furry paw, and the small toes stretched as the pup moaned in her sleep. A smile escaped the corner of Erestor’s mouth.
Glorfindel watched silently as Erestor’s hard exterior softened a bit, “We could take her back to Rivendell and—” the elf lord started to suggest when he was interrupted.
“Hey, Mister, have you seen—” A young boy emerged from an alleyway, pausing when he saw Erestor was an elf. “Oh, beg your pardon, Sir. I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken,” Erestor answered.
The boy saw Glorfindel holding the puppy. “I see you found her. She got away from me this morning, and I was afraid something terrible might have happened. She gets in trouble a lot.”
Erestor raised a speculative brow at Glorfindel. “Trouble you say? Just what I need.”
Glorfindel handed the puppy to the boy, and gave her one more rub behind the ear. “I was merely making a suggestion.”
The boy, seeing a possible chance for profit, spoke quickly. “I have a litter of six pups. If this one doesn’t seem to match your needs, perhaps one of the others will. They’ll grow up to be excellent hunting dogs … part of the hound family, I believe.”
Glorfindel got down on his knee, eye level to the boy. “Do you know what breed they are?”
“No, Sir. Found ‘em in the crawl space under an abandoned cabin not far from town. They were just weaned, lucky for them. Found their mother in the woods, or what was left of her. Wolves I think. Anyways, they were hungry … not knowing how to find food on their own yet. I brought them back here, fed ‘em, and now I’m looking for homes for them.”
“That was very noble of you,” said Erestor. “I’m sure your mother was pleased.” His tone was laced with sarcasm, but the boy frowned.
“I don’t have a mother. She died last year,” the boy answered sadly.
“And your father?” asked Glorfindel.
The boy shook his head. “He just never got over mum’s dying. I haven’t seen him in three months.”
“And what do you do for food and shelter?” asked Erestor, concerned.
“Oh, I’ve an uncle … well, that’s what I call him. He’s a friend of my pa’s. Set me up as best he could in his shed. It’s warm enough and there’s food. He leaves me some before he goes off to do the day’s work. That’s where the rest of the pups are, if you’re interested. I’ll sell one to you real cheap.” The boy stopped and turned his eyes to the ground at his feet. “I would give you one, but I’d like to help my uncle with my share of things. You know, for taking me in and all.”
The boy’s story was breaking Erestor’s heart, and when he glanced at Glorfindel, he could see the elf lord was affected too. Sterling blue eyes looked back at Erestor, pleading with him to take the pup and help the boy.
Erestor nodded and reached into a pouch that hung at his side. He pulled out a gold coin and handed it to the boy. The child smiled wide and started to hand the pup to Erestor. “She’s yours then, Sir, and I thank you very much.”
Erestor shook his head, and Glorfindel frowned. “I’m sure she is very sweet, but I really have no time for a pet right now. But you take the money and use it for you and your uncle … and the rest of the litter. Hopefully it will be enough until you can find good homes for them, and perhaps your father will return by then.”
“Thank you, Sir, that’s very kind. It will help us tremendously. Thank you, thank you,” said the boy excitedly.
The two elves watched the boy disappear down the street, the puppy bouncing along side. Then they turned and made their way to the stables to retrieve their horses and head back to Rivendell. As they went, Erestor could feel Glorfindel’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.
“What,” he finally said. “Do you think I made a bad decision to give the boy money? Do you think he made it all up?”
“No,” Glorfindel answered. “I do not doubt his story, but I doubt your decision not to take the pup.”
Erestor made a face. “Why are you so insistent about it?”
“I saw you Erestor. You fell for that little bundle as soon as you picked her up. And you have an uncanny need to take care of things. You would have made a good father,” Glorfindel chuckled.
Erestor huffed and walked a little faster, but Glorfindel’s long strides kept pace with him. They reached the stables in silence, mounted their horses and prepared to leave, but Glorfindel stopped them. “Are you sure you don’t want the dog?”
Erestor set his face like stone and answered. “I’d rather adopt the boy. At least I could put him to work.” His features softened, and he allowed a smile to escape. “Alright, I’ll admit that for a mangy, undernourished, furry ball of fleas, she was very sweet, and I’m sure she’ll make a good companion … for someone else.”
A mischievous looked crossed Glorfindel’s face. “Good, that’s all I wanted to hear you say.” With that they set a course for Rivendell.
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A Price for Peace