Honoring the Gift
By Gwenneth

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or anything LOTR. And I'm not making money off this...just making people smile. Or cry or whatever they choose to do emotionally!!

SUMMARY: Sometimes it takes a lesson to realize a gift needs not be "earned" or "honored".

A/N: This is a story I wrote for a friend who needed a little cheering up. It was done at 1 a.m., and I TRIED to find all my mistakes, but alas, I'm sure you wonderful readers will locate SOMETHING I messed up. Lemme know, because I can always improve my writing! And if you have some ideas for me...plot bunnies for a few short stories...tellllll me. I need them. -Gwenneth

The bow twanged and the little boy grunted in frustration. He huffed and marched forward, restraining himself from flinging the bow down on the ground as he went. "I can't do it, no matter what I do…I just can't DO it."

Stooping down, Estel grabbed up the arrow that had embedded itself in the ground three feet shy of the target he had haphazardly erected against a tree near the waterfall. He examined the tip, glad to see he wouldn't need to discard this arrow, and returned to his post 25 yards or so away.

"Legolas is coming and I want to impress him, I HAVE to get this right."

Notching the arrow, he drew the arrow and the bowstring back and took aim again. He was about to let it fly when a voice interrupted his concentration and he jerked – sending the arrow skittering along the ground beside him.

"Estel! Lunch!"

Sighing, the boy slung his bow over his shoulder and called out in response. "Coming, Erestor!"

Elladan let out a small grimace and shook his head. Estel had been at his archery practice for weeks now, and appeared to be making little progress with his attempted feat. Legolas, who had through no fault of his own prompted the insane practicing, would be arriving in Imladris today and Estel still had not mastered the skill he had been doggedly working on. He would be so disappointed, but no matter how hard Elrohir and he had helped the boy, he wasn't able to do what the Elves could.

"Something troubles you, my son?" Elrond said, laying a hand on his elder twin's shoulder.

Looking up at the dark-haired Noldor Elf beside him, Elladan nodded. "He's at it again, adar," he said. "And it isn't any better than last week. He just can't do it yet, and he is beginning to lose faith in himself."

Nodding, Elrond watched the boy sulk into the nearby archway that led to the dining area of the house. "I know this. I too have been watching him. But mayhap when Legolas arrives, he can take Estel on a small excursion and deter him from this loafty goal. I will speak with him about it."

Elladan smiled. "That sounds wonderful, adar. It would be most pleasing to see Estel smile again. He has been far too melancholy these last weeks."

Elrond nodded. He remembered when Legolas had inadvertently led the boy to believe that he could hit a strawberry with an arrow from 25 yards, merely because the Elf prince himself had been able to – Elrond knew LEgolas oftentimes forgot that Estel was a human, not an elf. This time, though, Estel had gotten it in his mind to try and accomplish the feat.

With a sigh, the elder elf turned from the window and hurried to lunch.

After noon meal, Estel asked leave to return to the archery field, but his father shook his head and pointed to his bedchamber. "You best go wash up, Estel. Legolas will be here shortly and you don't want to look like you were wallowing in a mud puddle all afternoon when he arrives, do you?"

Shaking his head, Estel turned and hurried from the room. Normally, such a jibe would have gotten at least a small smile. This archery goal was weighing heavily on his son's mind.

"Oh Estel, how I wish you had the grace of the Eldar at times. It pains me to see such things pain you, simply because you are not one of the First Born," he whispered. Elladan and Elrohir shared his sentiments, but said nothing.

Estel, meanwhile, was tugging harshly on the comb trying to get the tangles out of his unruly curls of dark hair. "I haven't done it yet, I wish he wasn't coming until later. I would have more time!"

He pulled the last snarl from his lockes and pulled a new tunic over his head. That accomplished, he hurried out to the courtyard to await the arrival of his Elf friend from Mirkwood. Seating himself on the stone steps, he leaned back against the side of the Last Homely House and crossed his feet in front of him – the picture of leisure. But inside, he was still angry he was unable to hit his target.

Soon, the sound of hoofbeats broke the peace of Imladris and Estel shifted to get a better look at the approach Legolas would be riding along. He was surprised when he only saw one rider – the prince usually had an entourage of at least a few guardians when he made the trek from Mirkwood to Rivendell.

Something was wrong.

"Legolas!" Estel called out, jumping up and hurrying forward. His smile changed to a frown, then a silent gasp of surprise when his friend slipped from the horse and crashed to the ground in a heap. "Legolas!" He cried out louder this time. "Adar! Adar! Come quick! Legolas is hurt!"

Dropping to his knees, he pushed on the elf's shoulder, trying to get him to uncurl himself. "Legolas, it's me, Estel, open up, mellon nin, I can't see what is wrong with you!"

The blonde elf looked up at his friend with glassy eyes. "Estel!? I made it then?"

He looked up now as Elrond approached and crouched down beside him. "Prince Legolas. What befell you?" he said, reaching forward and pulling at the tunic the young elf wore, wrinkling his nose as he studied the blood-caked fabric.

"We were ambushed, my lord," Legolas said, cringing in pain. "They took out my party, but only one of them is left alive. I tried to stop him, but he got away. They were within your borders, my lord."

Elrond's eyes narrowed. "Can you guess their identity?"

The blond nodded. "Hunters, no doubt. They were carrying carcasses. My guess is they sought game on your lands when they could find none on their own. But they attacked us without provocation, my lord. And when we tried to reason with them, they killed us anyway."

Nodding, the elf helped Legolas stand. "Come, we need to take care of this wound."

Estel trailed behind, wiping his hands against his pantlegs, trying to remove the blood on them. He was mesmerized by it and it angered him. Those men had hurt his friend. He wanted to kill the one that lived. Maybe then, Legolas would think him a good warrior and worthy of his gift.

With a slight bounce to his step, Estel hurried off toward his room. His father and brothers were so busy tending Legolas, they didn't notice their usual tail had not followed them.

"Okay, so this wasn't such a good idea," the boy muttered as the darkness pressed in around him. He clutched his bow tighter, wishing he hadn't brought the weapon he was less skilled in. But he wanted to show his friend he could wield the gift the wood-elf had bestowed on him, and how better than to avenge the death of Legolas' friends and guards?

He slowed to stoop and study a mark in the ground. It looked like the footfall of a man limping heavily and he guessed it had to be the one Legolas had said escaped earlier. Smiling, he pressed on.

So intent on his tracking was he that the thirteen-year-old didn't hear the zing of the arrow as it left a bow. But he did feel the bite of the barbed tip as it tore into his right shoulder and he dropped to the ground with a cry.

"Got you, you Elf!" Came a cry from the boy's right. "Serves you right, with your unnaturalness. Your immortalness. Hah, not so immortal now!" A man, limping on his right leg, his left mangled and bloody, came into the open now. "Not so high and mighty with your bow and arrows now!?"

Estel whimpered in pain and fright, clutching at the arrow in his shoulder and looking up at the man towering over him. "Saes!" he called out, realizing with a frown that calling in the Grey Tongue would only serve to hinder his chances of escape. "STOP, please!"

The man slowed. "You…you're not an elf…" he muttered. "This is elvish territory. What are you doing here?" the man was talking more to himself than the boy, in his delirium, and was now pacing awkwardly in front of Estel. "I shot a human. But he has a bow. He talks Elvish. Might as well be an Elf then. No matter. He's not going to live past tonight."

The man turned back to Estel. A wicked gleam caught EStel's attention and he tried to inch backwards as the man brought his blade down toward the boy's head. Closing his eyes, Estel vowed to accept death like a man. Only – he never felt the bite of the blade. Only heard the clang as it hit another weapon.

"You'll not hurt him any further, hunter."

Snapping his eyes open, Estel saw the long robes of Elrond swaying in front of him. The Elf lord had a gleam in his eyes not unlike the one that the twins sported when they were out hunting Orc. "Leave these woods and I'll not take your life, hunter. You have wounded one dear to me, and I do not take it lightly."

The man laughed in his fevered haze and swung at the Elf Lord again. "I'll kill you, Elf. I killed many of the blond ones, and other dark-haired ones, I'll kill you too then I'll kill your boy! He must be an elf, you wouldn't be helping him if he wasn't!"

But Elrond was too fast for the man and in seconds, he was dead.

Estel let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and groaned as pain zipped through his arm and chest. "Ada!" He called weakly, surprised by the rasp in his voice. "Ada, you saved me. You came!"

Kneeling quicky, the Elf Lord began to feel around the arrow in his small son's shoulder and nodded. "I knew you had gone out. Why, Estel, why would you risk your life?" He grimaced when the boy began to shake with shock. The arrow was deep, and Elrond knew he would need to push it all the way through and remove the barbed tip before he could pull it out. And he knew it had to be done fast.

"I…I wanted to show Legolas I was a warrior, Ada. I wanted him to know I could use the bow he gave me. It was such an important gift – a bow from a prince of Mirkwood, a master archer. And I wanted to make the man pay for killing his friends and injuring him," his voice jumped in volume as he cringed in pain. "Ada…"

Elrond gulped. "Estel…I have to push this arrow through and remove the tip, ion nin. It will hurt. You will need to be brave." The boy's eyes widened. He had seen Elrond do this to Elrohir once, and he remembered the cry that had tore from his brother's throat at the pain. Swallowing his fear, he nodded weakly.

Taking a hold of his son, he pulled him to his chest and wrapped one arm around the boy's shaking shoulder. Holding him still, he gripped the arrow with the other hand and without hesitating – for fear he would lose his resolve – the Elf Lord pushed hard and Estel screamed and jerked away from his father.

Quickly reaching around the boy, Elrond used a small blade and hacked the barbed tip from the arrow, his heart breaking as he then regripped the fletched end and pulled it out of the boy.

Estel screamed again and slumped against the Elf Lord, crying now. Elrond paused a moment to just hold the boy – one hand pressing on the entrance wound and the other pressing on the wound he had created when he pushed the arrow through. He noticed his own hands were shaking nearly as hard as Estel and tears were streaming down his face as Estel sobbed into his shoulder.

"Ad…Ad…Ada!" Came the shaky cries. "Pl…please, it hurts!"

Hushing the boy and rocking him, while still holding the wounds, Elrond whispered soothing nonsense into the boy's ear and held him tightly until fatigue, pain and blood loss stole Estel's consciousness from him.

It was then that Legolas emerged from the nearby bushes.

"My Lord," he said, falling down beside the Elf Lord and the small boy. "I…I don't know what to feel." He looked upon the bloody tunic of the young edan and cringed. The wound had to be painful and Legolas fingered his own bloody tunic in sympathy. "He is so brave. He seeks to fit in so hard. I feel as though this is my fault."

Elrond shook his head. "Estel is noble," he said, his words wavering as much as his hands. "He is so special." He couldn't say anything else. He hurriedly applied compresses to the two wounds and lifted the boy into his arms. Elrond didn't bother to wipe the tear tracks from his eyes, nor did Legolas, who was rather surprised to find they were running down his cheeks. "He will be all right," Elrond whispered, more to himself than his companion.

Legolas didn't reply. He was stooping and smelling the arrow head. "My Lord…poison."

Elrond's heart jolted and his eyes locked with Legolas. "No…no…"

He leaped into action and ran…flat out ran…for the Last Homely House.

Elrond brushed the damp, dark hair from the boy's forehead. Estel had been feverish for three days now and nothing the Elf Lord did seemed to lower the fever or draw him from his unconscious state. Elladan and Elrohir had stood vigil with him. ANd Legolas, though no longer in need of any healing, had sat at their sides as well.

The boy was alive. But just so. If he had been an Elf, his body may have coped better with the injury. Elrond sighed. SO many times, he wished his boy was an Elf. But he knew it was not so and he knew that Estel had his own strength. A strength of men. And while he had lost much faith in the strength of men after the fall of Isiuldor, he had never and would never lose faith in this boy.

"Estel, come back to me!" he whispered, placing a light kiss on the boy's forehead.

"Ada, I didn't go anywhere."

Jumping back, Elrond smacked his head into Legolas' as the blonde elf had just been about to lean over and tell the Elf Lord he needed to eat something. Shocked by the sudden impact, the prince toppled backward and landed on Elladan's lap. Their combined weight snapped the legs of the elder twin's chair and they both hit he ground with a thud and two equally shocked cries.

Elrond, however, didn't notice – he only had eyes for the fluttering grey eyes of Estel who was looking at the jumble of Elladan-Legolas that was currently struggling to right itself.

"You are awake, ion nin!" The Elf Lord said, a smile broader than any he had let grace his face in recent days twinkling down at the boy. "I'm so very glad to hear you speak, child."

Estel moved to sit up, but grimaced and grasped his shoulder tightly. "Owwww!" He said with a little confusion. "That was not a good idea. Me and my bad ideas. I'm just full of them."

Legolas nodded, having finally removed himself from the Elladan-Legolas ball. "Aye, you are, child. But you are also brave and a true friend and if you do that again, I'll kill you myself."

The boy laughed a little at the image of Legolas, whose hair was sticking up everywhere and tunics were rumpled. "Uhm…thanks?"

Elrond turned the boy's head to him. "Yes, don't do that again, child. You needn't prove yourself here, Estel." He saw the boy's face fall and his eyes lower. "What?"

Looking to Legolas, Estel said quietly. "I couldn't do it, Legolas. I can't do the strawberry trick."

The blonde elf sighed. "Oh, Estel, I am so sorry I led you to believe that you could do it this soon. You must remember, when I was your size I was really a few centuries into existence. I'd had a lot more time to practice." He carefully left out that there was a chance the boy would n ever accomplish the feat. It wouldn't do to discourage him anymore. "Don't worry, you are the best human archer I've ever met and I'm glad you have honored the bow I gifted you with."

The boy's eyes lit up. "You really think so? Even though I'm not as good as an Elf?"

Legolas nodded, gripping the boy's hand. "I really think so, Estel. I would not have given you such a fine weapon if I didn't already believe you deserved and would do it honor. Never think yourself unworthy of it, child."

Nodding, Estel said with a small frown. "Sheesh, if I had known that before, I wouldn't have been so dumb and spent all my time trying to hit strawberries in the gardens…"

Legolas laughed. "No, I guess not. But you got in some good practice, I'd wager. When you are well, we'll see just how much you've improved. Deal?"

"Deal!!"