Perfect... (Middle Earth Inspired Short Story)

Chapter 10

Glaedir's POV
"Wake up! Wake up! The First are coming! Get up!" Frenzied shouting and hurried footsteps dragged me out of a deep sleep. Groaning, I hauled myself out of bed in all my messy haired, half naked glory and looked towards the shout. A messenger was stood in the doorway, a lantern swinging in his grasp. A disgusted look crossed his face as he looked into the hovel we called a barrack house. I didn't blame him. I'd been a while between inspections so there were clothes on the floor, weapons hanging off bunks and the washing basket piled high with dirty underwear and lone socks that no-one had claimed. The fact that most of us slept either half or completely naked probably didn't help.
"What did you say?" I asked, ignoring the throbbing headache beginning to develop. I needed to lay off the wine at mealtimes, the Rivendell elves made some strong stuff.
"A messenger came saying that The First Regiment would arrive in an hour, the Captain has ordered all of you to be at the main courtyard as soon as possible."
I blinked twice. The First Regiment. Ada. At that, I made a beeline for the bathroom, avoiding squaddies as they tumbled out of bed and hauled themselves into uniform. Get out of the way you lazy gits, I am not looking like an idiot in front of my father.
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Lindir's POV
"My lord, wake up," I called, shaking Lord Elrond's shoulder. He wasn't looking at his most dignified, his usually immaculate hair unkempt from sleep and his grey eyes misty. It was strange for me even to find him sleeping, my Lord suffered horribly from insomnia.
"Lindir? What's happening?" He asked, sitting up quickly.
"The Lothlorien First Regiment are on their way, my Lord, a messenger arrived," I informed him, going to the wardrobe and getting some fresh robes for him.
"Have the guards and the trainees been roused?" Lord Elrond continued.
"Yes, my lord. Along with the cooks and servants. We can give them a proper welcome as always," I said, helping him into his robes and putting the usual braids into his hair.
"Always thinking ahead Lindir, I expect nothing less," he praised. I settled the silver circlet on his head. Lord Elrond straightened his back, every bit the noble and wise Elven Lord I knew.
"Let us go greet our guests."
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Glaedir's POV
"Stop yawning you semi comatose twits," I muttered at the recruits as I made my way along the shambles they called a line. I didn't blame them, to be wholly honest, it was barely sunrise. What on earth was my father doing travelling at this time? The Captain and the Sargent stood with Lord Elrond, somehow managing to look alert and awake despite the early hour. Lindir stood near to his Lord, shadows under his beautiful eyes. He caught my gaze and smiled shyly, warming my heart. Hastil tutted quietly beside me.
"Smirking at the maids this early? Shame on you Glaedir," He muttered. I stifled a sigh of relief, he'd thought I was looking at the maids. Not at Lindir.
"Shut up Hastil, I saw you sneaking towards the kitchens after dinner last night," I retorted "A kitchen maid? I thought you could do better than that."
Hastil casually stepped forward and pressed the heel of his boot into my toes. I hissed quietly. He snorted.
"Where's the attitude now, hey?"
"I am going to thrash you in training later," I growled through gritted teeth.
"Will you stop bickering like old women," Thiliel interrupted "They're here."
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They came riding into the courtyard, golden armour gleaming in the sunrise, their long green cloaks flowing down from their shoulders. They sat straight and proud upon their mounts, falling into line perfectly as they came to a halt. My father sat at the head of the column. His long red hair fell at his shoulders as he removed his helm, staring proudly ahead at Lord Elrond.
"My Lord, my apologies for the short notice," he said "We had little time."
Lord Elrond nodded courteously.
"The Last Homely house is a safe haven for all, Major Bregedùr, you are welcome here as always. There is breakfast waiting, and my people shall see to your horses."
"Thank you, my Lord."
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I watched at The First dismounted before going to my father. I had taken my mother's surname of Skylark when I joined up, while my father kept the family name of Bregedùr. The official reason was to avoid confusion, whereas I believed it was more to do with my father not having any connection to the clumsy low-rank Corporal that actually shared his blood. Maybe it was fortunate I looked more like my mother. The only thing I had inherited from my father was his greyish blue eyes and his hawklike gaze, the rest of my features had come from my mother's side of the family.
"Ada," I said with a courteous bow as I reached him. He turned to look at me, his red hair spilling over his shoulders, somewhat unkempt from his helm.
"Glaedir," he nodded "How is your training?"
"Well enough, thank you father," I replied. A small part of me hated how formal we had to be, since I joined up I was forced to address him as my superior instead of my father. Then again, we'd never been that close to begin with. Throughout my childhood, he had always been away on campaigns or training from dusk until dawn with his regiment; I had just been left at home with my mother. He had been my hero nonetheless.
"Good," he said "I trust you not to let me down."
And with that he departed with a swish of his cloak, going over to his second in command and speaking in rapid Sindarin. I watched from a distance, lost among the crowds of people and horses as I watched Major Bregedùr, the soldier, not Halfaeren my father as he gave orders.
"Corporal Skylark!" Came the cutting yell of the Sargent, so harsh it could've cut through stone "Once you've finished standing around, we have recruits to train!"
Unwillingly, I turned towards the shout and made my way towards the training ground, my father's icy stare following me all the way.