Disclaimer: As you all know, I do of course own Lord of the Rings and all its characters and locations. Oh wait no… Sorry that's J.R.R. Tolkien. Silly me.
Authors Note(s): I'm afraid I have taken the liberty of killing off Aragorn's dear mother. I'm sure she was a lovely woman, but would have made this story somewhat more difficult to write. So R.I.P Gilraen, we barely knew ye. In fact we knew ye not at all.
Oh yes, and I have also continued under the assumption that when Elrond took Aragorn in as a child, he adopted him and raised him as his own. My apologies if anyone has a problem with that.
Dedication: I would also like to say that I am dedicating this fic to my good friend and beta Nietta, her gentle shoving and subtle emotional blackmail for about a year is the only reason this actually got written :)
Oh and one last thing, did you know that every review you write and send gets you one step closer to heaven:)
Carry On My Wayward Son
Chapter 1
Straight Jacket Feeling
"Good, Estel!"
A young boy beamed at his much older brother, Elrohir.
"Considering this is only your third lesson, you are doing astonishingly well. We are very proud of you."
If Estel had been smiling any more, he would have been in danger of his face splitting down the middle. He had begged his Ada and his brothers for months to teach him to fight, and finally they had conceded.
"Thank you! Does that mean I can use a real sword next time?"
He had been quite disappointed with the training sword he had been given by Glorfindel; it was very plain and uninteresting, unlike his brothers' who had long and intricately decorated ones. He hadn't wanted to be ungrateful though, it was better than nothing after all. It would be no good if he were to go on one of his brothers hunting trips with them though – it wasn't even sharp!
Elladan frowned, "No Estel, you still have a long way to go before you are big and strong enough to use a real sword safely."
Estel pouted and dropped his training sword on the ground, "But Dan! It's not fair. I'll never be a proper grown up if I can't use a proper sword! Glorfindel even uses two sometimes!"
Estel often went down to watch Glorfindel and his warriors practice; sometimes the elf lord would even fight two elves at once and use two swords. Last time he had gone to watch them with Elrohir, his brother had told him that Glorfindel was just showing off to impress them. Estel hadn't believed him until Glorfindel had looked over and winked at him.
"Glorfindel is a tad older and has had a bit more practice than you Estel," Elladan smiled, "And don't worry, you will grow up to be great man. Trust me. Now come along, let's go inside and get cleaned up. All this practice has made me hungry!"
Estel sighed in resignation, they had been outside for hours and he had to admit, he was beginning to feel a bit hungry. He was a growing boy after all, he thought happily, he was a growing boy who needed to eat so he could be big like his brothers and his ada.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Back in his room, Estel was splashing cold water on his face and scrubbing his hands. His Ada said he was never to eat with dirty fingernails because he would get germs in his food that would make him sick. Estel didn't like to be sick; being confined to bed and being forced to drink his Ada's nasty medicine was no fun at all. Elrohir and Elladan agreed with him, when they came back from one of their 'adventures' they were almost always made to stay in bed and drink the nasty medicine too.
Estel loved spending time with his older brothers. They had been on one of their 'adventures' for almost a month and a half this time and had only come home a week ago. Estel felt rather ambivalent about Elladan and Elrohir's adventures, on the one hand they always came back with fantastically exciting stories, but on the other, they also always came back with multiple injuries that caused their Ada to mutter darkly and glare at them. Elladan had told Estel that their Ada had practiced his glare for thousands of years and that when he used the full force of it, he could actually burn holes through a person.
He didn't believe them though. He had asked Glorfindel about it as well, and while Glorfindel had assured Estel it was true, he had not been able to contain his laughter throughout the whole conversation. So yes, Estel had his doubts.
It annoyed Estel when his brothers told him silly stories and expected him to believe them. Like the time Elrohir had told him that Elladan liked to be woke up in the morning by having cold water thrown over him. Estel found this to be untrue, Elladan had most certainly not enjoyed being woken up in the morning by having cold water thrown over him. Nor had Glorfindel for that matter…
Estel sighed; he didn't like being the youngest one in the family. He didn't usually get told off for the things that Elrohir and Elladan tricked him into doing though so it wasn't too bad. They did though, usually while he was in the room. He hated the way they sometimes talked about him as though he weren't there.
He's only young! He doesn't know he's doing wrong. Stop tricking him into doing your dirty work, is what they would say. He has a name, thought Estel.
He walked out of his bathroom to change his clothes.
Sometimes though, Estel knew exactly what his brothers were up to, but he did what they told him to anyway for his own amusement and then let them take the blame afterwards. When his ada would question him, he would feign innocence and tell him in a confused voice that Elladan and Elrohir had told him to do it and he didn't realise he was doing anything wrong. Estel smiled, sometimes being underestimated had its advantages.
But then again, a lot of the time it didn't. He was nearly 11 years old and wanted to be treated as such! Maybe if he did something to prove that he could do things just as well as his brothers…
Maybe if he could show them that he could use a real sword they would treat him more like a grown up.
He pulled a clean shirt over his head.
He could go back down to the training fields and borrow one of the swords, there were so many no one would notice one missing… He could bring it back to his room and hide it, and then practice with it secretly. Then when he got really good, he could show his brothers and prove that he was just as good as them!
Filled with sudden excitement by his ingenious plan, he decided that if he went now, he could be back in time for his brothers to come and get him to take him down for dinner. They always took about fifteen minutes longer than him to get changed; they told him that as the sons of Lord Elrond, it was their duty to keep up appearances. Estel thought that this was a silly thing to do, and he dressed as he liked, son of Elrond or not.
So he stealthily left his room and as quickly and quietly as possible, and made his way back down to the practice field.
Luckily, he didn't see anyone on the way down, except Glorfindel and one of his warriors, but Glorfindel was so busy warning his warrior that, "If whatever you are taking me to isn't worth my time, you will suffer my displeasure,", that he didn't even notice Estel, who was nonchalantly leaning against a wall.
Avoiding Glorfindel successfully had put Estel in an even better mood than he was already in, so, feeling much more confident, he slowed down to a more leisurely walk.
Down by the field, everyone was so busy with their own training that no one even noticed Estel walk past them.
When he finally arrived at weapon storage, Estel walked up and down like an army sergeant, inspecting each sword as he came to it. He finally decided on one of the smaller ones, his brothers had always told him to pace himself, never start with something too big. So he picked one with a simple black and silver handle, and then tomorrow, when Estel predicted he would have sufficiently learnt how to wield a proper sword like his brothers, he would come back and get a bigger one to practice with.
Picking it up, he realised it was a lot heavier than he had been expecting. He frowned, all right; well maybe it would take two days rather than just one.
His excitement at the thought of seeing his brother's faces when he showed them how good he was going to be, filled him with adrenaline and he quickly left and made his way back to his room.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Getting the sword unnoticed back to his room was proving more difficult than Estel had first anticipated. He was still tired from his training with Elrohir and Elladan and his arms were beginning to ache from his heavy burden. He had to get back to his room before his brothers did though so he sped up. As he rounded the corner of the corridor that his father's study was in, he broke into a run; he would never get back in time at this rate!
The weight of the sword made him lose his balance. He staggered. His knee gave way and he fell into something solid. Or at least he thought it was solid until it wobbled and tumbled to the ground. He cried out and there was a resounding crash as whatever he had fallen into hit the ground. As he fell forward, the sword flew from his hand and landed just out of his reach.
From his crumpled position, Estel gazed up in horror at the smashed vase. He heard the sound of a chair being scraped along the floor from Elronds office and flinched. Oh no.
The door was quickly opened and an annoyed Elrond stepped out. Estel noticed three men sat in his office, he didn't like the look of them and their dark eyes peering out at him. They looked mean. His attention was brought back to his Ada though, who had glanced from the sword, to the smashed vase, back to Estel and then put two and two together. Elrond closed the door to his office over, not enough to block the view of the end man though.
"I'm sorry!" Estel gasped, "I didn–"
Elrond held up his hand and Estel fell silent.
"Estel, your brothers and I explicitly forbade you to touch a real sword without our permission, did we not?"
Estel nodded, fighting back tears.
"I also told you that under no circumstances are you to bring any form of weapon into the house, did I not?"
Again Estel nodded, a small sob escaping his throat, "I'm sorry Ada. I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking! I thought that if I could show you that I could use a sword, you would let me go with Elladan and Elrohir next time they go away. I wanted to be grown up like you! Please…I'm sorry," he sobbed.
Elronds gaze softened at the sight of his adoptive sons tears; he knelt down on the floor and held out a hand for Estel to grasp. He did so and Elrond gently pulled him to his feet. Estel was trying hard to fight back his tears but they were flowing too freely now.
"You should not be in such a hurry to grow up my son."
"Please forgive me Ada," Estel choked through tears.
Elrond smiled fondly, and pulled Estel into a tight hug, "It's all right Estel, I think you've learnt your lesson for now, just don't do it again. Are you hurt? I'll clean this up later, but right now I'm in the middle of a very important meeting, so why don't you give me that sword to look after and you run and get something to eat with your brothers."
"Ok Ada," came Estels muffled reply.
Elrond released him and drew himself up to his full height once more and Estel bent over and picked up the sword. After handing the offending weapon to the elf lord, he quickly threw his arms around Elrond's middle again, "I love you Ada."
The tall elf smiled softly and placed a gentle hand on top of the child's head, "I love you too Estel. Now run along."
Estel turned to leave, but not before catching one of the men's eyes as he was leaving, the shrewd and calculating expression on his face unnerved Estel and he quickened his pace, stumbling slightly in his haste.
Elrond sighed and reluctantly made his way back into his office, "I'm sorry for that interruption."
The truth was Elrond was not sorry for the interruption at all. If anything he'd gladly welcome another one. By no means was Elrond afraid or intimidated by these men, but Glorfindel had been called away briefly by one of his warriors and Elrond didn't feel comfortable being in a room alone with them. They had a certain aura about them that unnerved him.
"You are being unreasonable," the man who had called himself Fenneth exclaimed, as though there had been no interruption.
"Yes. Those lands are being used for nothing. You don't need them!" Fenneth's accomplice, Polinthor, added.
"The majority of that particular stretch of land is being used to grow crops to feed my people. As I am sure you well know." Elrond looked at the men with a raised eyebrow.
The third man who had thus far not been permitted to speak by his superiors, was beginning to get nervous, he was not holding up under the intense gaze of the elf lord quite as well as the other two. He jumped up and slammed his hands down angrily on Elrond's desk.
"Are you accusing us of something?" he said defensively.
Elrond regarded the human coldly, "That depends, are you guilty of something?"
For several weeks, various crops from that particular area had been mysteriously vanishing. Elrond happened to know that these three men and the rest of their group were settled in the forest not a quarter of a league away, and had been for several weeks now. He normally wouldn't begrudge a band of travellers a few crops, but being the knowledgeable elf lord he was, he also happened to know that these were no ordinary band of travellers. They were outlaws from their hometowns, thieves and murderers mostly.
Thinking back, Elrond couldn't even remember what had possessed him to agree to such a meeting. At the moment, all he could do was hope he could end it soon. He was bored of the same arguments being thrown back and forth.
"You are completely unwilling to compromise?" Fenneth said, shooting a filthy look at Elrond.
"Yes. This meeting is over," Elrond noticed Glorfindel hovering at the door; he had arrived just in time for that last exchange, "Lord Glorfindel will escort you off the premises."
"You haven't heard the last of this," Fenneth spat.
"I'm sure," Elrond replied indifferently without looking up.
After Glorfindel had ushered the three murderous looking men out of the room, Elrond let his eyes wander, and they lay to rest on the sword that had just caused so much trouble with his youngest son. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had learnt by now not to ignore these feelings, as they were often present due to his gift of foresight. However, having a feeling that there was something wrong was useless, unless you had an idea what that something might be.
To be continued…