Heart of an Élias

by Erika

Estel acts impulsively and learns something about woodland elves.

This is a story I wrote a few years ago but never posted – it's the last of my LOTR fanfiction. Hope you like it and thanks for reading!

Title: Heart of an Élias

Series: Book of Days (basically, it's a series of missing moments. Little scenes between Aragorn and Legolas that will take place throughout the trilogy – please read author's note (2) for more info.)

Author: Erika

Rating: PG

Summary: Estel acts impulsively and learns something about woodland elves.

Timeframe: Takes place after Estel heals from the injury that he suffered in "You Look Terrible."

Spoilers: For "You Look Terrible."

Category: Angst, H/C, POV.

Disclaimers: It would make me the happiest person in the world to be able to truthfully say that Aragorn and Legolas belong to me, but alas, it is not so. I make no money from this, and it is written (against my will) for entertainment purposes only.

Feedback: Both positive feedback and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished!

Archive: Please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. =D

Author's Note:(1) It's been a few years since I last read the LOTR in its entirety so these missing moments are basically based on the movies. I apologize in advance if I contradict anything that's stated in the books; any mistakes are purely accidental. (2) So far, this series consists of the following stories: "A Light in the Darkness", "A Friend Such As You", "Darkness", "The Comfort of Listening", "There is Always Hope", "Fall of a Friend", "Mortality Has No Shield", "Heart of an Élias", and "Despair."

Heart of an Élias

Legolas:

Crouching low to the ground, I peered through the long blades of grass that concealed me from our prey. Poised with an arrow already drawn to my bow, I remained utterly motionless. My breathing was so subdued that even it could not betray my presence. The thrill of the chase had surrendered to the quiet alertness of the kill, leaving only an exuberant serenity it its wake.

It was completely focused on my task. I could hear the rustling of leaves as they were stirred by a gentle breeze, feel the cool touch of it against my cheek. I was aware of the childlike laughter of the running brook and the scurrying patter of small forest animals bounding through trees from branch to branch. My mind registered all of these things and more, but only in the distant way of one waking from a deep slumber.

My conscious thoughts were filled by only one thing: every movement of the magnificent élias that stood less than eight paces away. The creature was beautiful beyond measure, in all the world there was no other species like it. All élias had the body of a wolf and the antlers of an elk, a glorious protrusion of smooth glossy bone extending from just between their ever-alert ears. Their fur was silky and impossibly soft to the touch; by night it seemed to glow and illuminate them in an ethereal light. Whether snow-white or ebony-black, their antlers perfectly matched the tint of their fur. With bright blue eyes that contained the depths of rippling water, they truly were wondrous to behold.

In truth, my heart wept to slay such a beast yet I knew that such was the way of nature. Animals preyed upon other animals to obtain sustenance and in that regard, elves were no different than any other living being. What separated us from most of the wild creatures that roamed this world was the remorse we felt for taking a life. To kill something was to forever rid the world of its presence, an act worth grief and remembrance. Understanding the delicate balance of nature, we elves knew to take only what we needed and never more. Woodland elves in particular sought to thank the felled creature for its sacrifice, for its gift of food. As it died, we whispered our gratitude to the winds, as well as our hope that the creature's spirit would find peace. When we ate the animal we repeated the prayer.

The white élias we had selected to kill delicately padded over to the trickling river and lowered his head, dark pink tongue lapping at the cool water. Every few moments he would raise his wet nose back into the air, smelling for predators or prey, before resuming his quick sipping. Élias had an acute sense of hearing and an excellent sense of smell. If he heard either one of us make a single motion or picked up our scent, he would flee with such speed that we would have no chance of pursuit. It was for that reason that we had taken such care to mask our fragrance, why we remained frozen now.

I tensed, preparing to release the arrow. He was in perfect position for the kill, any moment now Estel would…

A barely whizzing arrow flew out of the brush opposite me. Immediately, I sent my own arrow flying. Both shots stayed true to their marks, with Estel's piercing the élias' secondary heart and mine puncturing his primary one. The élias, having had no warning save the brutal onset of pain, let out a hauntingly beautiful howl of agony as his paws doubled in under him and he fell, limp, to the ground. Twin stains of crimson blood marred his white coat of fur. His paws were twitching weakly and he was emitting a series of subdued whimpers and mewls.

Springing forward from the tall, thick grass, I approached the dying creature.

"Legolas! Stay back!" Estel cried out warningly but I ignored him. He was worried because he knew élias to be vicious creatures in the last moments before death. His concerns were misplaced though – I meant only to calm the animal, my life was in no danger.

"Leave this realm in peace now, noble creature," I murmured in elvish as I approached the élias, which was watching me intently. "Feel no pain or fear, the sacrifice you have made will protect you from harm."

The élias stilled his restless, desperate movements and I knelt by his side. Placing my hands on his still rising and falling belly, I gently petted his now sweat-drenched fur. "Be comforted, do not fret," I soothed the beautiful beast, looking directly into his rapidly glazing eyes. "Do not fret, let your spirit soar. Forgive me for this. Forgive me and go." A blank look deadened the élias' eyes and his breathing stilled. "Go."

Bowing my head, I murmured my prayer into the quiet stillness of the wood. "Thank you for your sacrifice, may you find restful slumber in whatever lands await you. I am sorry to have caused you pain but am thankful for that which your shed body will provide. My eternal gratitude is yours."

Sorrowfully, I gazed upon the diminished beauty of the creature I had helped slay. Though necessary, to kill was always such a horrible thing. Even though this élias had been carefully selected from his pack because he was old and would sire no more pups, it pained me to have cut his life short.

"Legolas?" Estel murmured, clearly hesitant to intrude upon what he correctly perceived was a deeply important and personal moment for me.

I lifted my gaze and read the confused and questioning look in my friend's eyes. Having never before been hunting with a woodland elf, he did not understand the significance of my words and actions. He was curious to know more about me and my kin.

I smiled sadly, "I will explain later. Now we must dress the élias." I swiftly rose to my feet. "I will return with the supplies we need."

At Estel's nod, I slipped away into the forest. We had left our packs and supplies at the campsite so as to travel light. Carrying less bulk meant making less noise, something paramount in the hunting of élias. However, having meticulously observed the élias pack, we had learned their habits. That had allowed us to pre-select a kill site, as well as set up camp reasonably nearby. It did not take me long, proceeding at a brisk run, to reach it and take the appropriate pack.

When I returned to the kill site, it was with relatively high spirits. Trailing the élias had been invigorating and watching their movements for nearly a week had further honed by patience and observation skills. Spending time out in the wild with Estel had also been gratifying. Overall, the hunt had gone very well and proved quite fruitful. The élias we had chosen was very large, even judging by the standards of his own species – which usually grew to the size of an elk. Lord Elrond would be more than pleased with our bounty.

"Estel," I said, entering the clearing by the brook, "I suggest that we split–" My words abruptly died and I froze in place as I took in the sight before me.

The élias we had killed lay next to the river, just as I had left it, but a few paces away was another élias, this one black and with a single arrow extending from its throat. The shot had obviously severed its trachea and the creature had died a relatively slow, painful death. Estel stood, apparently unharmed, a few feet away from the second élias.

"Are you all right?" I questioned worriedly, thinking that the animal had attacked him. I recognized the black élias as another member of the same pack. This one was female, with slightly smaller antlers than her male counterpart. She had recently given birth to a litter of four pups and I knew mother élias to be very aggressive and protective of their young.

My young friend's brow furrowed in obvious confusion. "I am quite well, Legolas. Is there some reason I would not be?"

I frowned. "The female élias did not attack you, then?"

Estel shook his head. "No. She wandered into the clearing and I felled her with a single shot." He seemed rather proud of himself. "I was surprised, élias are not prone to–"

"She made no aggressive move against you and yet you killed her?" I interrupted stonily when Estel's words registered in my mind. I felt a painful chill grip my chest. How could Estel have been so careless? We had already made our kill, what need was their to slay another élias?

Estel was clearly taken aback by the coldness in my tone. When he answered, his voice faltered and was marked by a nervous uncertainty. "Yes… I-I thought you would be pleased to have more meat to take back to Rivendell for my father's feast."

"You thought I would be pleased?" I repeated in disbelief, anger creeping into my tone at this needless loss of life. As needless as the plethora of slaughtered animals that the thoughtless, rampaging savage orcs left in their wake. Brutal, vile orcs that threatened to spread their disregard for life through Mirkwood like a disease by killing every innocent creature in their path.

Estel swallowed, his gaze filling with confusion and apprehension. "Legolas?" his voice asked me not to be displeased with him but my anger at his carelessness continued to mount. "I do not understand…please tell me what I have done wrong." He paused and licked his lips – a nervous habit. "Why have I offended you?"

I looked back down at the dead élias. My eyes then scanned the tree line. I immediately spotted the mother's pups, huddled forlornly in the thick shrubs at the base of a nearby tree. My heart clenched. They were young and not yet weaned. They were so young as to still need their mother's milk. Without it, they would die. Just as the countless orphaned animals in Mirkwood would die. The thought quickened my anger to rage.

My fellow warriors and I were proficient in the protection of our home. We worked with courage and intellect to keep the orcs from infiltrating further into Mirkwood. But we had secretly ventured past their lines and seen what they had done to the once sacred wood. What had once been full of life was now dying and overgrown with sickness. The bodies of butchered creatures were strewn across the ground. I could still see their mutilated carcasses, marring the once rich brown earth with streaks of ugly blood. I could still remember the stench of blood and meat, left out – unused – to rot. The filthy orcs would kill everything if we let them.

I had thought to escape that in Rivendell and yet here was Estel, having slain with a casualness that turned my blood to turgid ice.

"How can you even ask such a question?" I barked more harshly than I intended.

Estel flinched and shrunk away from me, taking an involuntary step backwards. He shook his head helplessly, clearly at a loss for words. Though anxious at my unexpected reaction, his gaze was intent upon me. I could read the lack of comprehension in it. He was so addled by my distemperment that his ability to read my thoughts with uncanny accuracy had failed.

I continued before Estel could formulate a response. "How can you have lived among elves for your entire life and have such a limited understanding of us?"

This question clearly upset a stung Estel but he bit back his defensive reaction. I could tell he feared to provoke me further.

"Elves live in a delicate balance with nature. We do not rob from it as orcs and men do, we take only what we need," I grated, not letting Estel's hurt look aggrieve me. "Lord Elrond sent out many small hunting groups with specific instructions regarding what to kill. He has already determined how much meat is needed and delegated the hunting so that we do not bring down more game than is necessary and waste life. And this," I gestured towards the dead élias, "This is a waste."

My friend's eyes remained riveted on my form.

"Look at her, Estel," I spat venomously.

It was not a request and Estel hastened to do as I commanded. His eyes flew to the animal he had needlessly robbed of life.

"Do you not see what you have done?" I asked.

Clearly, Estel did not. The eyes he turned back to me were wide and helpless.

"Estel!" I very nearly yelled in frustration, "Were you not paying attention as we observed the pack? Do you truly have no more wisdom than the orcs that threaten to destroy my home? Than the rest of your kin?"

My friend had recently confided that he often suffered from a feeling of inferiority. He had been raised among a people that did not age whereas he did. He had been trained by those who had greater physical endurance than he did, though he always pushed himself as hard as he could. He had grown hearing Lord Elrond, the only father he had ever known, constantly deprecate the weakness of men. Sometimes, he felt unworthy of his place among my kin.

I was the only person he had ever trusted with that secret. Now, in a moment of anger I flung it back at him like a poisonous arrow, feeling nothing when he reeled back as if he had been struck. Nor did regret touch me when Estel's face registered first surprise and then a soul-searing pain. I was consumed with images of the destruction the orcs had wrought upon the woods along the outer borders of my father's land. I could not help but think that Estel had shown the same disrespect for life that orcs did when they killed for no other reason than the sick satisfaction it gave them to see bloodied animals fall dead at their feet.

"This is the young élias that recently gave birth to a litter!" I exploded, "A litter," I pointed at the frightened pups, pups that did not understand what had happened to their mother, "that will now die! They will die, Estel!"

Estel looked at the pups. Finally, the faintest glimmer of understanding dawned. Denial clouded the blue depths of his eyes. "No," he protested, his voice weak, as if he was still trying to regain his footing at the hurt my unexpected words had caused him. "Surely…surely the rest of the pack will care for them?"

"Élias do not adopt others' pups!" I scoffed derisively, thinking of all the orphaned animals the orcs had also doomed to death. I had seen them. I had seen young cubs huddled against their mother's mutilated form. I had heard them desperately mewling for her attention. And I had known, just as I knew now, that they would perish.

A great sadness clouded his face. Estel held up his hands in a gesture of peace that was not lost to me. "Legolas, I did not realize. Truly. I would not have–"

"Why do you think we were so careful in selecting our prey?" I interrupted him, "I chose the older male élias because to kill a female as young as this one deprives the pack of countless litters. It is time that you realize that your actions have consequences beyond those that merely affect you. You have not only slain the mother but her children - all the children she would have ever conceived! Elves never kill the young females, especially if they have recently given birth! We take only what we need, Estel." I sighed, the vociferousness of my fury wearing thin. "How could you not have known that?"

"Legolas," his voice was nearly pleading now. "I did not realize. I am sorry." It pained him to know I was upset with him. My previous insult to his heritage still stung. He wanted me to revoke my words. He did not think he had done anything terribly wrong; he simply wanted to return to my good graces.

I shook my head. "Your remorse changes nothing. Especially when it is so insincerely offered. You do not understand the gravity of what you have done. You apologize only in the hope of placating me and that is no true apology," I snapped scathingly. "You have played the part of a child today."

Estel finally looked down, unable to meet my gaze any longer. His cheeks flushed hot in humiliation. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He looked from me to the mother élias and then he let his gaze rest on her orphaned children. He clearly did not know what to do or say.

"Life is precious, Estel," my voice was quiet but deadly. "Do try and remember that."

I opened the pack I had retrieved from our campsite and removed the knives I would need to dress the white élias. Then I closed the pack and threw it to Estel. It landed with a dull thud at his feet. "Clean up your mess," I ordered before turning my back to him and kneeling next to the inert male élias.

Swiftly, I removed the two arrows from his body and slit the animal's throat. Then I used a length of elven rope to tie his hind legs to the branches of a tree. Hanging the creature upside-down would allow him to drain of blood before I proceeded to gut and skin him.

Still livid and disappointed, I made a point of not turning to look at Estel, who was clearly uncertain as to what to do and vainly hoping for guidance. He lingered hesitantly behind me for quite some time. It wasn't until most of the blood had dripped from my élias that Estel picked up the pack and moved to dress his own kill. He easily severed the animal's jugular vain but lacked the strength to hang it from a tree. After unsuccessfully struggling to raise it for several minutes he settled for dragging the body to a nearby incline so that its head was on lower round than the rest of the body. The blood would still drain but it would take longer.

I worked diligently to cut the élias open and remove all the necessary internal organs. Every so often I would feel Estel's nervous gaze upon me. He was carefully observing my actions so that he could later repeat them – to the best of his abilities – on his own élias. Estel had witnessed the gutting procedure but had never actually participated in it. I had promised to instruct and let him help me. Now he was muddling through it on his own. I knew I should assist him, as it would be very easy for him to make a mistake, but I still could not bring myself to release my anger.

He had taken a life when there had been no reason to!

It wasn't until I had cut and stored all the meat and was in the process of washing the long strips of fur that I noticed something that waned my aggravation. Estel's hands were trembling as he clumsily tried to duplicate my previous actions. The shaking was barely noticeable but it made me examine him with more care than I had been using. It was then that I realized he kept glancing at me not only because he did not know precisely what to do but also because he was hoping my ire would fade…and worrying that it wouldn't. In fact, his entire form was wracked with tension, with the fear that an unbreachable rift had opened between us.

Estel looked at me again but as soon as he realized I was watching him, he lowered his head and turned back to his work. It was not quickly enough, though. Not nearly quickly enough for me not to see the utterly stricken expression in his eyes.

I closed my eyes and leaned back on my heels. Oh, dear. He thought our friendship irreparably damaged. He was young and did not realize that such vexations were not permanent. And I had been so terribly harsh with him. What he had done was wrong…but he had not known. He'd never been hunting before, not in any organized or official way – only small game while camping. And I had realized that, had realized and continued to relentlessly deprecate him. I had ripped him apart as savagely as if he, like an orc, had killed only to kill, had purposefully slain the creature so that her pups would die. Why? He had simply thought to bring back more food for his father's feast and I had treated him as if he had no intention of making any use of the dead élias.

My fury at an unnecessary loss of life was understandable but my reaction – nay, my overreaction – was not. I ought to have simply explained why Estel should not have killed the élias. Instead, I had allowed myself to be overcome by memories and emotions forged only by what was occurring in Mirkwood. I had reacted out of wrath and spite and needlessly hurt the youth. Simply because he was raised by elves did not mean he knew all our ways, much less how important the preservation of life was to those of the woodland realm. Especially now that the orcs killed so recklessly.

And oh, Sweet Elbereth, what I had implied about his heritage… Knowing that he at times – rare as they might be – felt insecure regarding his human ancestry, I had purposefully used that against him. Tacitly telling him that his mistake was the result of men's weakness. A weakness I did not even believe in. Lord Elrond might think that Estel's people had no strength but I did not. And yet I had used that against my friend.

Remorse unmanned me. I needed to apologize for my outburst but thought that a simple expression of regret would be insufficient. After all the horrible things I had said, I would have to show him, with words as well as actions, that all was well between us.

I directed by attention back to my friend. He was having trouble skinning the dead animal. He was not holding the blade as he should and the fur was coming off in small, messy patches. He was obviously growing frustrated but would not ask for help out of fear that I would refuse him.

Sighing, I set the still-wet fur on the riverbank and rose to render my assistance. Wordlessly, I picked up my knife and began working on the élias' hindquarters, which Estel had not yet reached. Now being afforded a better view than furtive glances allowed, Estel was able to immediately correct his weak grip and accurately mimic me. He did not, however, look me in the face. He was afraid of what he would see. He most likely thought I was doing this because I had grown irritated at how long it was taking him.

This was not working. I had hoped this would be perceived as a peace offering, that Estel would see my guilt and that then, I would apologize. This, however, was not the observant, perceptive young man I knew. He had been cowed by my unexpected show of fire. He thought he had lost me and the silence between us was dreadful for him.

Setting my knife aside I reached out to touch Estel's wrist. He quickly set his blade aside and waited for me to speak. He reminded me distinctly of a child expecting punishment.

"Estel, look at me." I winced at my tone. I had meant it to be gentle but it had come out as clinical, aloof, which only served to reinforce the young one's fears.

Estel glanced up but still did not meet my gaze. Instead he quickly looked away again.

I gently raised his head with a brush of my hand against his chin.

My friend took a deep breath and seemed to steal himself for my disapproval before looking into my eyes.

"Estel," I began before he had a chance to read something on my face that was not there, "I offered you anger instead of understanding. I deplored you when I should have only chastised you and explained your error. Forgive me for my harshness. It was far more than you deserved."

Estel seemed uncertain. He wanted to believe me but after the things I had said he could not trust what his eyes and ears were telling him. He wondered if I still harbored resentment towards him, despite my apology. I supposed I could not blame him, I had been very cruel. "Then…you are no longer angry with me?"

I smiled and touched his arm. "No."

The transformation was instantaneous. Relief split his face into a grin and lit up his eyes. He positively beamed with joy. Covering my hand with his, he said, "I am glad… I was… I thought, perhaps, you would not wish to have anything more to do with me after this."

I frowned, sadly. "No, your friendship is far too important for that. I am sorry for giving you cause to doubt it."

"No…it is all right," he attempted to brush off what had occurred, obviously wanting to forget the entire incident. "I was overly sensitive. It is strange how vulnerable friendship can make you to being hurt," he reflected.

"Yes, it is," I agreed, remembering how hurt I had been by Estel's lies when he'd fallen from the cliff. "But even still, I should not have yelled at you. I should not… My words re–" I sighed. "Estel, what I said about your people–"

"Think no more of it," Estel tried to reassure me but I could see the doubt that lingered in his soulful eyes. He was wondering if what he feared was true – that his people were weak and could not be trusted. He was wondering if I saw him that way.

"I was angry, Estel," I spoke frankly, "I said what I knew would hurt you the most. That is unforgivable yet still I beg your forgiveness for uttering words that I truly did not mean."

He frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "It appears you can be very hurtful when you wish to be," he spoke in open honesty. "I wish I could say I would soon forget your words, how I trusted you with a secret no one else knows and you used it against me. I am glad you are no longer angry with me and I harbor no ill will towards you, my dear friend, but… I cannot pretend you did not grievously hurt me with-"

"A betrayal of trust," I finished for him, knowing full well he had intended to utter no such thing. This time it was I who could not meet his gaze. I appreciated his sincerity. He was not saying that he did not forgive me. He was not saying our friendship was damaged or that his trust for me was diminished. He was simply telling me it would take time for him to forget how ruthlessly I had lashed out at him, how I had hurt him. Yes, I did appreciate his openness. It shamed me though. My actions shamed me. He did not think I had betrayed him but I did.

I felt the warmth of Estel's fingers lifting my chin. By the fierceness in his eyes I knew he had every intention of assuring me I had not betrayed him but before he could speak, he saw something on my face. Or at least, he must have seen something in my manner for he seemed to realize the futility of such reassurances. His countenance was sad. He did not want me to see my breach as a betrayal yet understood that he would not be able to convince me otherwise.

His face softened then. His gaze was warm and sympathetic. "You are much too hard on yourself. You always are." He was trying to tell me that everyone committed errors in judgment, some more grievous than others, and that I should accept that I myself was not infallible. He would accept my mistakes, my weaknesses, and wished I could do the same. "I think your reaction was…partially understandable. When… During your diatribe, you mentioned the orcs and Mirkwood… I think, perhaps, this needlessly felled beast reminded you of what is occurring in your homeland."

I did not even try to mask my surprise. Rid of his fear that he had lost my friendship, he had regained his ability to read me. Even knowing how deep an insight he could gain into my thoughts, I was still unprepared for this unerring assessment.

"You are kinder than I deserve," I acknowledged with a smile, silently pledging to never again betray the trust this man bestowed upon me. "Quite simply, I overreacted and said many…acerbic things to you."

Estel nodded his agreement but squeezed my fingers and said. "I forgive you."

"Thank you," I inclined my head in gratitude.

After our discussion, we continued dressing the female élias in silence. It was not a peaceful silence, however. Though not marked by Estel's apprehension and unease, it was filled with sadness. My sorrow stemmed from the knowledge that I had injured my friend. Even the kindness of his eyes could not erase the guilt I felt for having overreacted. Forgiveness had been entreated and granted but a great deal of time would pass before I forgave myself.

Estel's sadness, I perceived, was born from a growing sense of guilt he felt for having slain the élias. I had already hurt and humiliated him for the action but now I sensed he felt bad for reasons other than my anger and how important I knew my friendship to be to him. The more meat we wrought from the beast, the more Estel's mood seemed to plummet. The continued presence of the pups did not appear to be aiding matters. I was well aware of how often his eyes flitted to them.

Abruptly, pitiful mewls broke the silence. The pups were crying. It was a sound sad enough to bring tears to the eyes of even the most stoic of warriors. For Estel, it fell as a blow. Dropping the bloody knife he had been using, he turned pain-filled eyes to me. "Is there no hope for them?" he asked in such a tone that made me wish for the strength to lie to him. I could not, however. I could not look into those earnest, pleading eyes and tell a falsehood. Even if it was one that would ease his turmoil.

Setting my own knife aside, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I fear not." My own tone was tangled with sorrow.

His shoulders sagged. "I did not mean for this to happen."

I smiled sadly, realizing he was more connected to the delicate balance of life than his actions today had led me to believe. "I know."

"I did not mean to take their mother from them," he continued. "I am sorry. I am sorry for having slain the élias and having reminded you of the slow destruction of your home."

"I allowed myself to be reminded of Mirkwood, Estel," I told him, not quite believing that he was apologizing to me after all the things I had said to him. "Do not blame yourself for that. As for granting you forgiveness…you know that I have already given you mine, though certainly I had less to forgive than you."

"It is as you said, though," he protested, wincing as the pups began to yowl louder. "I have deprived the pack of all the litters this élias could have given them. These pups will die, and all those that should have been born will never walk this earth. Because of me."

Before I could respond, he continued. "Legolas," he said solemnly, "Please, teach me about the interconnectedness of all living things, about how your woodland kin view the world and the balance of life." He paused, "The prayer you uttered for the élias we killed…please, tell me its significance."

Nodding, I smiled. "Hush, Estel. I will be more than happy to tell you all you want to know. The prayer I said is an ancient tradition among woodland elves, it marks…"

As I told my friend about a side of elves he had never before been aware of, I could not help but reflect on all that had occurred since our felling of the male élias. I had needlessly hurt Estel and Estel had needlessly taken a life. Both of us wished to change so that we did not repeat our actions. Both of us had made mistakes this day but perhaps it was in our desire to improve that we would find our redemption. Perhaps it was in our desire to grow that we would be able to forgive ourselves.

THE END