Author: Maranwe
Summary: Estel's contemplating life and death and receives valuable advice from Elladan.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I merely play with them and try to put them back when I'm done and share them with others. It's working really well so far. *g*
Warning: It's rated G, what on Middle-earth could there possibly be?
A/N: This is what happens when I have time to think and write after reading something that makes you think. I had to read Tuesday's with Morrie for school. Summer reading, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, it's really good. I finished it, and this is what happened.
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The sun was high in the sky, its warm rays reaching out to include all life beneath its light. Leaves and flowers seemed to shift to gain just a little more of those life-giving rays. A gentle breeze shifted the air, nuzzling the grasses, caressing the boy's face who lay among them, silver eyes closed as he soaked up the sun.
Peace, security, well-being were all feelings easily found in Imladris. The whole land simply felt so . . . pure that dark thought could not last very long. There was so much joy that had anyone been around to see, they would have immediately wondered at the young boy who was so still on such a beautiful day. Indeed, anyone who knew Estel would likely have been worried to find the young human so still and quiet. More than once, the boy had become sick while under the elves care and uncharacteristic silence was usually at good indicator of illness. . . .
Estel was a happy youth, energetic, talented, precocious with a mischievous streak that was enough to send veteran elven warriors scurrying for cover. But just as he was wild and carefree, he was also serious and calm--at least when he wanted to be.
He was thirteen, just entering those years when all human children desire to be treated more as an adult and gain more independence. To elven eyes this was ridiculous for one so young as Estel. It also meant an increase in quiet, contemplative moments, in breaks from the mad rush that characterized human life, so different from elves.
In fact, it was one such difference that drew his young mind to dwell, quietly away from the distraction of elven gaiety. A thought had struck him earlier which bothered him greatly: What happened when he died?
When he was younger, four or five, he had found out elves lived forever, that they would never get sick and die. As a scared little boy who had just lost his mother and father not so very long ago--though he could remember none of it--this was extremely comforting. It was an assurance that he would never be alone.
Older now, he understood more. The elves, his adopted family, would not die, would not leave him. No, they would not, but one day he would leave them; one day he would die and leave everything he knew for something as yet unimagined.
Where would he go? What would happen to him? To his family? Would the world stop when he was gone? Did everything suddenly change because he was no longer around to be part of it? Would his family remember him? Miss him? In his limited experience, he could find no answers and he was scared.
He had been laying on his back, half-watching the clouds pass by overhead. He could just hear the waterfall in the distance, a soothing roar in the background of his thoughts. Birds sang. The peaceful surroundings were in direct contrast to his turbulent thoughts, making him restless, so he stood and started walking, head down, eyes watching his feet, thumbs tucked in his belt to give his hands some kind of purchase as if to keep him from drifting the way his mind was drifting among questions with no answers.
Aside from his parents' deaths--which he could barely remember--Estel had incredibly limited experience with death, especially as he was raised among elves. But he thought, in death, a being's life just stopped, ended. What did those left behind do? And if death was just another branch of a journey, what came before birth? One had to start from somewhere, and to start you had to already be someplace. His brow furrowed.
Death, he decided, is just as confusing as life, but nowhere near as long.
Which of course, brought him to consider life. Often he had heard life compared to a journey with many roads that branched out and each decision took you down a different one. Eventually, you would reach your destiny.
He wondered how someone who made the wrong choices in life ended up at their destiny and if it was different from the one they started with. Then he wondered how one would know if they were on the right or wrong path. Then he wondered if he was on the right path and what that path was.
Had his destiny been altered by his parents' death? What did that mean for his life? Was it one thing then and another now? Did the Valar look at them from somewhere and pass judgment on them? And if they did, what did it mean? How did you decide what kind of life you were supposed to have?
Everyone was different. Estel knew that. But if everyone was different and needed different things, how could people who were so different do the same jobs? Were they on the wrong path? And if so, which one was on the wrong path?
Almost unconsciously the boy's steps led him to the waterfall and onto the bride which crossed it. The water that flowed beneath was clear and cool, slipping easily past stones in its path which churned the water, sometimes turning it white if the flow was fiercer after a heavy raining season, though the water never left its banks; sometimes it was calm, almost as smooth as though it stood still when the rainfall was exceptionally light.
He had always loved this bridge, able to look over the side from the safe vantage and see the patterns that moved past him, sticks and leaves sometimes joining the fray, now moving faster, now slower.
He watched no, lost in the changing tides, his nimble mind composing questions that same mind had no way to answer. Lost in thought, he stood still, watching the waters, a focused frown on his face.
That was how Elladan found him some hours later, unmoved, when he was asked to find out why the young one had missed lunch. Was not he hungry?
Pausing just before the stone construct, the elf watched him intently, nearly as intently as Estel watched the water except that he saw his object of contemplation while the one he watched looked too far away. Gone was the carefree smile, the light, the levity that he had come to associate with his adopted brother. In their place was solemnity, focus, solemn regard.
It struck him suddenly that Estel was growing up. Before his eyes, Estel seemed to change, to grow in stature. He found it disconcerting beyond all measure to see the image of a kind in the form of a child who was even yet unaware of his heritage, and his heart cried out that the young human was growing up too fast. Then he shifted and the spell was broken.
Elladan stepped forward, moving to stand beside his brother, also directing his gaze to the rapidly flowing water. "Mother always used to stand here and watch the flow of the water when she contemplated something important," Elladan began in a low voice.
Estel jumped at the new intrusion of sound, testament to how enraptured he had been, and glanced quickly at the tall being beside him, part of his dark hair pulled back and braided while the rest flowed down his back, though it was not so long as Elrond's. Blue eyes met silver, then the youth turned away.
"What great matters do you ponder to send you here for quiet regard when most your age would run and play?"
Estel was silent, following the path of a leaf that had been caught up in the swirl. Elladan waited and followed his gaze. Finally, he said, "I was wondering about destiny, my destiny."
Had he not been so intent on the leaf, he would have seen the elf start, jerking in surprise, but by the time he did look up, Elladan had himself back under control. The human turned and hopped to sit upon the railing, facing his brother. "How do I know what my destiny is?" he asked.
"Most people do not know their destiny, Estel," the elf told the other.
"Then how will I know if I'm doing the right thing, going the right way?" The boy's eyes were dark and intent as he stared at his elven brother.
Elladan smiled. "You will know."
"But how will I know?"
The elf laughed. "Impatient children," he teased, eliciting a smile, "always wanting to know everything." Then he sobered. "You must listen to your heart, Estel. Listen to your heart and it will tell you where to go."
"What if I can't hear it?"
"Your heart?" Estel nodded. "Well, if you can't hear it, then you aren't listening hard enough and you need to get rid of some of the noise."
Silver eyes stared into the distance as his thoughts traveled a different path. His brow furrowed, wrinkling the flesh between his eyes. A gust of wind blew a stray lock of hair into his face, and Estel pushed it behind his ear unconsciously. He worried his bottom lip slightly, the seemed to refocus.
"What if I make a mistake?" he asked. "What if I make the wrong choice and ruin everything?"
"You won't," Elladan soothed.
"But what if I do?"
Exasperation flowed through the elf. Humans, always so worried about mistakes. Then he wondered if it was not just those of Isildur's line, a consequence of his failure to destroy the ring. It is odd, he thought, to see how confident Estel is and then be shown this insecure side. But then, Arathorn had been just the same.
When the young one shifted uncomfortably, Elladan was brought out of his musings. He tilted Estel's head up to meet his eyes with a gentle finger under the chin. "There's only one thing you must do, Estel. No matter what, always do what you feel is right. If you do that, then no matter what else happens, you will always be precisely where you are meant to be."
Estel thought about that, then, slowly, he smiled. "Thanks, Elladan," he said.
Elladan smiled back and stood. "Now, what do you say to some lunch, then a nice long swim? I'd say it's been quiet around here for far too long, what with you taking a break out for serious contemplation and all. Everyone else might be getting bored."
Estel laughed. "Race you!" he cried, and was off.
Slightly started by the quick change of mood (though he should not have been), it took the elf a moment to get started. "No fair!" he yelled after the youth, breaking into a quick sprint.
The rest of the day was filled with the sound of laughter.
~~*~~*~~
Two years after the War of the Ring. . . .
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It was a beautiful day, the weather perfect as it tended to be in Imladris. The elven haven was still as beautiful as ever, even if it was beginning to fade with the passing of the elves over the sea.
Quickly remembering that had happened over the years, King Elessar--Elfstone, Aragorn, Strider, and Estel all names he had worn over the years--ambled over to the stone bridge he had spent long hours on, watching the water, contemplating life's mysteries. Brooding, Elrohir had said. He smiled.
Yes, he had brooded, but he was convinced there was nowhere better to do it though out all of Middle-earth than in Imladris, though some places certainly came close. Perhaps that was simply because this had been his home as a child, the first place he had ever brooded or thought. It would always have a special place in his heart, in his life. Another smile touched his lips. He spoke.
"Did you know that one of the most important lessons I ever learned was taught here, on this bridge?"
Legolas stepped forward into his line of sight, a slight smile on his face. Though he appeared to be focused on the water, Elessar had a feeling he was actually what was being studied. "What was it?" Legolas asked.
"To follow my heart," the king responded, one hand resting upon the railing as he half-faced his friend, his gaze turned to the water as his mind traced back the years. "That I would end up where I was supposed to be if I did."
The blonde haired elf turned to look a him, jumping up to sit lightly on the railing just as he had done so many years ago. "Did it work?" Legolas prompted, no longer even pretending to watch the water, now watching his friend closely.
Aragorn smiled, chasing away the lines of care he carried and making him look younger. He turned to meet his friend's eyes. "Yes, mellon nin. For once, he was exactly right."
The two laughed, the bright sound lightening many hearts. Then the former ranger glanced sidelong at the son of Thranduil. "Legolas?"
"Hm?"
"What say you we have a little fun, create a little mischief?"
Legolas returned the sly look. "What about your dignity. We wouldn't want your advisors to see their king acting a child."
Aragorn snorted. "I don't know," he mused, turning to better study all of Imladris. "Rivendell's awfully quiet. Too quiet."
Legolas turned then, too. "Perhaps you're right, Strider."
"Of course I'm right," the man replied, smiling slightly. "Kings are always right.."
The elf laughed. "You didn't say that when my father punished us for that prank involving the clifflel seeds and the River Running."
"Well I'm wiser now," Aragorn replied, barely concealed laughter in his voice. Legolas snorted. "So what do you say? For old times' sake?"
"Human, you weren't even alive for the old times!"
Aragorn cuffed him upside the back of the head, even as they both burst out laughing. Then they took off running, shedding unnecessary clothing on the way. The commotion drew the attention of others in the house of Elrond, and more than one pair of eyes watched in shock as, without pomp or circumstance, Kind Elessar of Gondor and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood jumped into the water of the pool they had always used, splashing each other as soon as they came up, playing as if they were once again children.
Inevitably, Elladan and Elrohir were drawn to the spectacle, halting the play as they gained the attention of the grown adults shamelessly gallivanting as children. The two friends watched the twins warily as they crossed their arms and regarded the human and elf expectantly.
"Don't you think you two are a little old for such nonsense?" Elrohir inquired archly.
Aragorn and Legolas glanced at each other, then looked back at the twins. None of the elves were surprised, when, instead of answering, the friends merely soaked the twins with a rebellious splash.
Predictably, the situation degenerated from there.
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So what did you think?
