Title: Aftermath

Author: marbienl

Disclaimer: not mine. Never will be. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Summary: In the aftermath of an attack Estel suffers to come to terms with what has happened.

A/N: Aragorn is still young in this one, perhaps only about 19. He has never met the rangers and he doesn't know of his heritage, but he knows of Isildur and a lot of what happened thereafter…

I don't go into much detail about what happened, I just let you fill in what happened; this is mostly about the emotional aftermath (well, it's supposed to be). If it isn't clear from the story, just know that Estel was hurt very badly by a man he and his family trusted for a very long time. He's not thinking very clearly or logically, so his reasoning can seem off to you.

For those of you who are sensitive to these kinds of stories, I recommend that you do not read it. I know some of the stuff isn't likely to happen to our dear human, so don't hold it against me – it's a fic, let your imagination speak.  Also, I know Elrond is not Aragorn's father and that he probably never met Legolas before Gollum's capture, but like I said, this is a fic. If you flame me, I'll just use it to spice up my curry.     ;)

O yeah, I had some problems on how it should end because I wanted to keep this particular story short, instead of writing 9 more chapters with all the details. So this is what you get – hope you like it.

Now, on to the story before the A/N becomes taller than the actual 'story'…

~~~

Estel looked into the mirror. A bandage covered his shoulder where the arrow had struck him. His long dark hair was resting on shoulders. Raising a shaking hand, he touched one of the curly locks before grabbing it tightly in a fist. He closed his eyes as the memories were coming back to him.

Shaking his head as if by doing this he could deny them, he opened his eyes. He picked up his hunting knife and with but a moment's pause, he started hacking away at his hair while the memories kept assailing him.

~~~ He was roughly grabbed by his hair, his head tilted back and held in place by the tight grip. With contempt he looked at the human that had shot him, desperately trying to hide the fear he felt inside of him.

The man was stroking though his hair with his other hand, en evil smile on his face. He brought his lips close to the young man's ears. "You sure are a pretty one, aren't ya?" The man whispered, trailing his nails over his cheek, going lower and lower until his hand rested on the arrow shaft protruding from the boy's shoulder. His hand closed over it and with one jerk, he pulled it out.

Estel struggled to free himself from the grip, but the man held him too tightly. Tears were gathering in his eyes from the forceful pull and he nearly choked when the man forced an awful concoction down his throat. He could feel the effect of the drug almost immediately; becoming docile while his senses dimmed. The last thing he could clearly remember was the feeling of terror as the man ripped his shirt open with a malicious gleam in his eyes. ~~~

Within minutes it was done; Estel looked into the mirror and stared at his reflection. He hardly recognized himself – all his life he had had long hair, to see himself like this was strange.

But at least nobody can hold it against me anymore. He thought, running his hand over his short hair. Now it was only several millimeters long, certainly not long enough for someone to grab him by it.

The young man smiled ruefully at his reflection. He heaved a breath and finished dressing; prepared to go downstairs to where his family and best friend were waiting for him for breakfast.

As he walked through the halls, he noticed some of the servants looking at him sadly. Paranoia setting in, he hurried his pace and descended the stairs. He made his way to the dining room and halted a few paces before the open doors.

Estel closed his eyes and took several calming breaths, letting the sounds of the elven voices soothe him. He was home he was safe.

Finally having gathered his courage, the young human walked into the room.

Elrond, having heard his youngest son some time before he had entered, turned his head to the human, about to say something…

When his eyes came to rest on Estel, they widened for just the tiniest moment before he managed to veil his expression.

He almost didn't recognize the boy; he had grown so much thinner in the time since the attack and now, without his long locks… He still had the same grey eyes, though they held a haunted look that the boy tried so very much to hide. Just as he tried to hide the skittish movements he made whenever someone came close to him.

The twins and Legolas, who had been talking about their latest hunt, became quiet when they noticed Estel's appearance.

Elrond spared them a quick glance, his eyes telling them not to comment on it, before turning his eyes back to the human.

Estel, having noticed the short silence and the silent communication, was inching his way back, intending to leave as fast as he could without looking suspicious.

This was a mistake, I shouldn't have come.

"Estel?" Elrond queried. "Why don't you join us at the table? Surely you are hungry…"

Estel quickly shook his head. "I'm not hungry, Ada. I'll just go back to my room if you don't mind…"

"Please – just try and eat a little – for me." I worry about you.

Estel looked his father in the eyes; if the elf lord said 'please', he was more worried than he let on.

Great… so first you are a disgrace and then you make Ada worry about you. A voice inside his head accused.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, Estel made his way to his chair and sat down, hiding a wince as not so old injuries made themselves known.

Legolas, who sat next to him, filled up his plate with things the young man used to like very much, hoping to spark his appetite. The boy flinched involuntarily as Legolas accidentally brushed against his arm. The elf pretended not to notice – knowing that he would only make Estel feel more uncomfortable – and set the filled plate in front of the human.

Estel raised his eyes and looked at the food on his plate. His face paled alarmingly and his stomach twisted at the sight of it. He wouldn't be able to eat that! Even the thought of food made him nauseous!

Elrond was even more concerned when he saw what colour his human son still had drain from his face. "At least try some broth." He said softly, filling a cup with it and bringing it over. "It's not hard on your stomach…" He supplied when he noticed the look on the young man's face.

With shaky hands, Estel took the cup from his father and brought it to his lips. He sipped a bit, seeing if it would stay down – when there was no sign of it coming back up, he took some more, only now realizing that he indeed was hungry. He was preparing to stand up and get some more, but Elrond took the cup from him, smiling gently and filling it once more, glad that the boy was getting something nourishing into him.

While Estel was drinking, Elrond looked at the younger elves. Too soft for his human son to overhear, he asked them to leave so he could talk to the boy.

When they were the only ones left in the room, Elrond watched his son while he drank the last bit of his broth. Estel, feeling the ancient eyes upon him, hesitantly raised his own to meet those of his father.

"How are you really doing?" The elf asked.

Estel's gaze drifted to all directions but the eyes of his companion. Unconsciously, one hand found its way to his close cropped hair, exploring the new feel of it.

"You don't have to worry about me… I'm fine." He told the elf unconvincingly.

Elrond captured the boy's chin, forcing Estel to look directly at him. He didn't release his hold when he felt the flinch the young man made.

"Why did you cut your hair?" He asked softly, his questioning gaze imploring the boy to answer him truthfully. "Don't be afraid to tell me, young one."

Estel thought about lying, but looking at the determined gaze of his father, he knew that a lie would be spotted immediately.

There was a long silence before he finally spoke, his voice no more than a broken whisper. "Nobody will be able to hold it against me anymore…"

The elf lord frowned, releasing the boy's chin.

"It was so easy for him… It was so easy for him to manipulate me by it and I couldn't get free! I was repulsed when he touched me as if I was his pet! This would never have happened if he hadn't been able to get a hold on me, I would have been able to fight back, but I was weak… I was disgraceful enough that I was caught off guard!" Estel's voice was getting louder with each sentence until he was finally yelling; releasing his pent-up feelings.

Elrond was glad that his son finally showed his anger at what had happened. At first, he hadn't been able to react, simply because he did not remember. Then later, when the memories started coming back, he had cropped it up inside of him, not wanting to talk about it – acting like it never happened. This incident proved that it had become too much for the young human. He grabbed Estel's shoulders and gently shook him, careful of the young one's injuries.

"This was not your fault, Estel!" The ancient elf paused to see if his words were getting through. "You believed to be in safe territory with someone you could trust. Imladris is supposed to be a safe place and that," Elrond took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. "that man –" the disgust he felt for him, even though he no longer lived, was clearly apparent. "– came into these borders, pretending for a very long time to be a friend. I should never have given him my hospitality, my trust…"

The angry words of the elf were interrupted by the contemplative words of his son.

"Lies… and hurt. That is what my kind brings. They're weak and deceitful, like in the past; it once again has been proven. I'm repulsed that I am of their kind –"

"Hush, Estel. Do not speak so. Not all mankind is like this, deep in your heart you know this to be true."

Estel was slowly shaking his head, biting his lip, a frown marring his pale face.

"Yes, Estel." The elf told him more forcefully, trying to get through to the young man. "You remember what I have told you about the Dúnedain… They are good people who protect others."

There was an inner debate going on inside Estel. His heart told him one thing, but his mind said something else. "I will not believe that until I have seen it with my own eyes…"

The elf lord raised one eyebrow. "Do you not trust your own father when he tells you something?"

Estel cringed; only now realizing he had questioned the words of the Lord of Imladris. He was opening his mouth to apologize, but was hushed again by the elf.

Elrond sighed. It's too soon for him to start trusting again. He comfortingly laid one hand on his son's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

"In time, my son, you will see that I was right. I only hope that time will soon come for you."

Estel looked up. "So do I, Ada." He whispered before being caught by a yawn. He frowned when he found he had trouble keeping his eyes open.

Elrond helped the boy up and supported him while he led him back to his room. "Come on… let's get you back to bed. This has drained too much of your energy. Rest some more… when you awaken I'll be there for you, as will your brothers and Legolas. We'll just take it one step at a time, my son."

Estel halted their movement. "Ada?"

"Yes, Estel?"

Estel looked as if he was going to say something. But instead, a small smile graced his lips; the first sign that it would be all right one day. "Thank you… for being there for me."

Elrond smiled too, urging them on again. "Always, my son." If fate will allow it.

~~~

The End