Chapter Text
What he saw was as unexpected as it was shocking: in his bucket, besides the large and very dead trout, was a creature the like he had never seen - or heard of- before, badly tangled in the fishing line. It had a long and slender fish tail with fins, but also arms and hair - long and black -, and the whole upper body of a person, complete with a very angry face. It was a bit difficult to make out as everything was so tangled, and there was some blood, too - hopefully only from the trout, for whatever that creature was it certainly was not prey, and Glorfindel was horrified that he might have injured it.
"Finally!"
Glorfindel nearly dropped the bucket, staring down into it. It spoke!
"Stop staring at me and get me out of here, and that dratted line off of me. How could you have been so stupid?"
Dumbfounded, Glorfindel did as told, placing the bucket on the ground and carefully getting the whole tangled mess out with both hands. The trout had been caught in the line as well, and the little - person - cried out in pain when the weight of the fish tightened the line around its - his - body. Glorfindel lowered everything hastily back into the bucket and then got out his knife, cutting the line off everywhere it seemed safe, and then got the tangled creature-line-fishtail-bundle out again. He placed everything on the bunched-up blanket so the creature would not be hurt further, and set about to carefully untangle the mess. It - he - was clearly uncomfortable but also seemed to make an effort to hold still.
Then, finally, the fishing line was off, and the small fish-man was lying back on the blanket, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Glorfindel took a moment to study him. Fish-man indeed - the lower body was clearly a fish, with a long tail, complete with fins and scales much like anything he had ever pulled out of the water, but of a deep, blue-green colour he had never seen on a fish before. From the waist up, though, he looked like the miniature version of just any other elf, with a lithe, well-muscled torso and arms, long, unbound hair so dark it had a blue tinge in the sunlight, and delicate features complete with pointed ears like his own. So, he was an elf - but what kind of elf was that? Or what kind of creature in the first place? He was at a complete loss.
With dismay, he saw blood still welling out of a cut under one arm, and red droplets along a few narrow cut lines over his torso and tail from the fishing line. Noticing again the heaving chest he suddenly panicked: the fish-man had not been submerged in water for a considerable time, had he difficulties with breathing? Or was in any other distress due to being out of what must be his natural element?
“Are you done ogling me?”
“What?”
The object of his concern had opened his eyes and was clearly studying him. “Ogling. You were ogling me. Not exactly the polite thing to do, you know.”
Glorfindel stared, speechless, as the fish-man now pushed himself up on his elbows. He cleared his throat. “I was most definitely not ogling you! I am worrying if you are having trouble breathing, since you are out of the water. Are you all right?”
“No, I am very much not all right, but not for the want of water; I can breathe just fine also on land. But what, by the deepest pits of Thangorodrim, could have possessed you to go fishing with a rod in Imladris?”
“Well, nobody told me that anything but fish was living in the valley’s water bodies. But who are you? I mean, what are you? I have never seen anybody similar to you.”
“What?”
Glorfindel could not help smiling at the utter astonishment of the small elf’s stare. This is how he must have looked just a while ago.
The fish-elf sat up fully, rubbing the arm which had been injured. “Are you trying to say you have never even HEARD about my people?”
“I am most profoundly sorry, but no. And of course I would not have gone fly-fishing, had I known. Again, please accept my sincere apologies.”
The other nodded. “I am of the Kwearendi, the folk from the sea. Or, to be precise, I personally am of the Kwairendi, as we live in landlocked water bodies. Name is Erestor.”
Glorfindel shook his head in wonder. “I truly have never heard of your people, or of anything similar. I am Glorfindel, by the way, Captain of Imladris, and I suppose I should have been told about you. Suilad, Erestor, I am very pleased to meet you, circumstances notwithstanding.”
The mer-elf looked at him with a frown. “Glorfindel, as in Glorfindel from Gondolin?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that might explain it: we only really spread out on the shores of Eriador in the late Second Age, and you have missed most of that time, if I remember correctly.”
“That is right.”
Erestor sighed. “Well, we can exchange more about that later. For now, I would like you to take me to the House and get those cuts seen too, if you please. I confess they sting quite a bit.”
to be continued …