Stupid Stories for Irreverent Elves by darthfingon

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What Happened in Eithel Sirion, in Summer

Oropher, Glorfindel, FA 47

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Oropher was naked. Glorfindel was envious.

He was not envious of Oropher's nudity, on account of how he was uncomfortable being naked except while bathing in a secluded room by himself. He was envious of Oropher's physiognomy. Oropher was nearly a head shorter than Glorfindel, but heavier. Whatever he had done to make himself grow more quickly had worked. Clothes a mere three years old were already too tight on his wide shoulders and strong arms. At forty-four, he simply looked more grown up, even though Glorfindel was forty-nine and very nearly a legal adult. Everything of Glorfindel's, including what he had worn in Valinor nine years earlier, still fit.

The reason for Oropher being naked was that he was about to become a legal adult, at least according to Sindarin tradition. He explained to Glorfindel as they stood at the edge of the forest that crept up the hills of the Ered Wethrin.

"Everyone has to do it, boys and girls the same, if you want to be an adult. Until you pass the trial, you're still a child, no matter how big or how old you get. So I have to do it."

"But the whole thing sounds a bit... extreme," said Glorfindel. "What if you fall into a crevasse, or are attacked by wolves? You could be hurt and nobody would know."

Oropher shrugged. "It happens sometimes. My uncle burnt all his hair off trying to start a fire when it was his turn. But nobody I've heard of's ever died."

"So you're just going to walk out into the forest, completely naked, with no food or shelter or weapons or anything, and stay there for twelve nights."

"Yes," said Oropher.

"Why?"

Oropher rolled his eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "How else are you supposed to prove that you can take care of yourself and be an adult?"

"Wouldn't it make more sense to prove how wise you are by not being stupid enough to spend twelve days naked in a forest when it's not going to do you any good?"

"You prove your wisdom by choosing when to do it," said Oropher. "Only a halfwit would try before he's ready, or in the winter. You don't prove anything by being naked in a forest in winter, except that you're rock-headed enough to be naked in a forest in winter. But it's summer now. So here I am."

"Yes, you know your seasons," Glorfindel said flatly. "Your intellectual prowess is astounding. It makes you seem very grown up. Now let's go back to the tower and find something to eat."

Oropher gave him a dirty look. "Quit being an arse. This is important."

"No," said Glorfindel, "not getting yourself thrown in prison is important. Did you even tell the King where you're going or what you're doing? I don't want him pestering me about you. Actually I don't want him pestering me at all. Or Fingon. Do you realise that without you around, I won't have anyone to help me avoid them? And Fingon always wants me to learn things whenever I have to spend time with him."

"The traditions of my people are more important than the King or his prison or you not learning," Oropher answered firmly. "I thought you'd understand that. You're the one always pressing on about how you have to do things for Manwë or because that's the way it's been done forever."

"That's different. I'm not trying to live naked in a forest like a savage."

"So what do your people do to become adults, if your ways are so much better?"

Glorfindel stood up straighter under Oropher's glare, and smoothed his hair back. "At the age of thirty-four, they go to the mountain sanctuaries to spend forty days studying history and devotion and the responsibility of adult life, and then-"

Oropher interrupted with derisive snort. "I think that sounds boring and useless. You won't learn how to live on your own by studying."

"There was more, but you didn't let me finish."

"What, then?"

"Well I'm not going to tell you now," said Glorfindel, "if you think it all boring and useless. But there are more people involved, and everyone has great feast of celebration afterward, with gifts, and then sometimes they might decide to get married-"

"At thirty-four?!"

"It happens sometimes, but not usually. Anyhow, that's just the boys."

"What about the girls?"

"How should I know that?" Glorfindel asked. "They go to a different place at a different time to do girl things."

"Huh," said Oropher. "Well. I like my way better. More fun."

"How can spending twelve days naked in a forest possibly be fun?"

Oropher grinned in a sly sort of way. "Because if you do it at the right time, there's always the chance of running into a girl who's also naked in the forest."

"That's the worst excuse I've ever-" Glorfindel began, but abruptly cut his words short. Oropher, perhaps, had a point. "Is this the right time?" he asked.

"Don't know. I haven't heard of anyone else going out just now. But you never know, right? Worth a look."

"Hm," said Glorfindel.

"You want to come along?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. With my luck, I'd only see you naked. Which I'm seeing right now. And I'm sorry, but you're not worth the discomfort of twelve days in the forest."

"If you say so," said Oropher. He took a deep breath, put his hands on his hips, and flashed Glorfindel one final smile. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck. Please don't die. If you kill yourself, I'll never forgive you for leaving me here alone with nobody to talk to."

"I'm not going to die. Don't worry. I have a good plan."

"Which is?"

"Spend the whole twelve days sleeping so it goes by faster. I'll I collect a whole lot of berries and mushrooms to eat and then find a comfortable moss bed to sleep on under a pile of leaves."

"Right," said Glorfindel. "You're going to die. Meanwhile, I am going back to the tower to collect a whole lot of fruits and candies, which I will eat in my own bed under a covering of nice, warm quilts."

"Hardly challenging," Oropher replied. He took a step toward the forest, squared his shoulders importantly, and began a slow march in controlled steps. "I will see you in twelve days!" he called back.

Glorfindel said nothing, but watched until Oropher disappeared in to the maze of trunks and branches. Then, with a sigh, he turned to face the long walk back to the city gates. An unpleasant feeling had started to sink into his stomach, as if his stomach knew how dull the next twelve days were about to be. Without Oropher, things would be dangerously quiet. Without Oropher, there was only Fingon for company.

He sighed again. Perhaps Fingon would be up to searching the kitchen storerooms for obscenely shaped vegetables.