Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 3)

Chapter 8: Council of War

Gerithor stretched as he awoke from sleep. It was the first time in what felt like ages that he had gotten a good night's rest. It seemed that whenever he stayed at Rivendell (which was rare), he slept well. Perhaps it was the peaceful atmosphere of the place... Or maybe elven magic kept evil things of all sorts away from the valley, including nightmares. Regardless the reason, Gerithor was happy for it.

He stayed in bed later than usual, reluctant to leave the comfort of his room. He also didn't look forward to the Council. It would be boring and full of petty disputes, of that he was certain. Such was the case whenever dwarves, elves, and men gathered together in the same place.

The sun shone brightly through his window, and after several moments of internal debate he finally decided to get up. He stood and meandered over to the window, glancing out at the elven sanctuary. Elves wandered around, either on errands or just admiring the beautiful day. It seemed strange to the ranger that this place was so peaceful, when just outside its gates darkness lurked. It was as though Rivendell was somehow untouched by the outside world, remaining pure while all around it Middle Earth was deteriorating into shadow.

The ranger stretched and yawned before turning towards his wardrobe. Several different sets of clothes had been put inside it that Gelon said fit his size measurements perfectly. As Gerithor looked them over though, he scrunched his nose in annoyance. They looked far too elegant for his tastes. He would have preferred to wear his own clothes, for they were worn and comfortable.

He threw his undershirt on and mulled over the clothes, debating which would be the least uncomfortable. He finally settled on a dark green tunic that went down to his knees, along with a set of black trousers that were made of a soft velvet material. He put both on, and to his surprise they fit him well. They weren't too tight, nor were they too loose.

After he was done getting dressed he ate a quick meal of bread and cheese left over from the night before, then he opened the door and left his room. On his way out he practically tripped over Edhael, who standing in the hallway and absentmindedly staring at the ground.

"What seems to be the matter?" Gerithor asked. Edhael jumped as if he had seen a ghost, surprised at Gerithor's voice.

"Oh! You gave me a bit of a fright! I seem to have lost something... But I forgot what it was." He scratched his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. "You didn't happen to see anything out of place, did you?"

Gerithor raised an eyebrow. "No... And it'd help if you knew what you were looking for."

Edhael snapped his fingers. "Wouldn't it? I wish I knew... Wait." He reached down towards his waist, before laughing at his own forgetfulness. "My belt! That's it!" He disappeared back into his room and returned tightening a silver belt around his waist. "That should do it! Though we're both hours late to the Council! Did you oversleep?"

"I did. Intentionally," Gerithor said with a yawn. "I'd rather only be at the important parts of this council. I doubt either of us missed anything useful."

"Perhaps you're right..." Edhael replied absently as he began to walk down the corridor. "Perhaps Taliel can fill us in afterwards, she was there for the entire meeting."

"Or Caledorn," Gerithor said as he fell in step beside the blonde elf. "I'm sure he knew everything they're talking about before the Council even began."

"True, he seems like the type that would sneak around and listen in on people's secret conversations," Edhael said with a slight grimace. "He's more like a Man than an elf in that respect."

"What are you trying to say?" Gerithor said, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all!" Edhael said while letting out a nervous laugh. "I forgot that you are a Man for a moment there... You remind me more of an elf."