Bleeding Ears

Disclaimer: not mine. Make no money. Don't sue.

A/N: This was written one evening when I should have been writing one of two essays on either death and bereavement or an activity analysis report (OT thing).

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At only ten years old, the small Edain child huddling beneath the covers of his bed in the Elven haven of Rivendell sobbed desperately, brokenly. The taunts of the young Elves had grown too much for him to bear recently, and he could take it no longer. He wished that it would all end. He had no control over anything – the others were all faster, lighter on their feet, taller, better-sighted, had better hearing, were quieter and were far more intelligent than he, as a mere human, could ever hope to be.

"Estel? Are you there?"

The child stiffened upon hearing the voice of Elladan, the elder of Lord Elrond's twin sons. I'm not here, he thought fiercely. Go away!

"Estel, surely you have not gone to bed yet? It cannot be any later than three in the afternoon!" Light footsteps indicated the Elf's approach to the bed and moments later he was sitting down beside the covered child. He gasped in horror. "Estel! Whatever has happened to your ears? They're bleeding and staining the bedclothes!"

Estel bit his lip hard to prevent himself from crying out as Elladan pulled back the covers. "What has happened to you, my brother?" asked the Elf, upset.

"'M not your brother," mumbled Estel angrily, refusing to look at Elladan.

"Yes you are. Please, tell me why your ears bleed so."

"None of your business."

"And whyever not?"

"Your fault. Yours 'n' Elrohir's."

"What have we done?"

Estel finally looked at his brother with a bitter glare of utter hatred. "You brought me here to Rivendell."

Elladan's complete bewilderment was plain to see upon his face. "But you love it here!" He hesitated. "Do you not?" He reached out a hand to touch the human's ear, but Estel drew back, flinching. Elladan sighed wearily. "I will fetch Ada. He will be able to see to your ears."

"He will not be able to make them pointed like yours, though, will he?"

Elladan froze at these words. "Estel, what happened?"

Estel shook his head, lips pressed tightly together. The Elf's eyes scanned the room and were drawn to a gleam of sun upon a shiny edge. A knife lay in front of the mirror, still-wet blood on the blade. Elladan was aware of an ever-growing sense of horror and dismay in his stomach as realisation dawned. "Estel, no – tell me – tell me you didn't..." He took a deep breath to calm himself before looking again at Estel's bleeding ears. "Estel, did – did you use that knife by the mirror to try to cut your ears into a pointed shape? So they would resemble those of an Elf?"

Hesitantly, Estel nodded, fighting back tears of pain, despair and, above all, shame.

"You idiot!" Elladan chastised. "Whatever would possess you to do such a thing?"

Estel shook his head, refusing to answer. He was not about to answer one who had just called him an idiot. That, and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he would cry. And he could not afford to do that; it was yet another weakness on his growing list of weaknesses and points of inferiority to the Elves with whom he lived.

Elladan rose from the bed, regarding the Edain child sadly, before slipping out and going to find his father. Estel did not notice his departure, for he was too wrapped up in his own despair and unhappiness.

A few minutes later, an extremely worried Lord Elrond was hurrying along the halls of his home to his foster son's room, his oldest son close behind. He found Estel hiding under his covers. The blood contrasted sharply with the pale material and Elrond briefly closed his eyes in pain. Elladan had explained all that he knew to his father. Both were desperately concerned about Estel, wondering just how deeply this all ran.

"Estel, please do not hide from me," said Elrond sternly. "Elladan informs me that you are hurt, ion nîn –"

"I'M NOT YOUR SON!" Estel screamed, throwing the covers from himself. "I NEVER WAS AND I NEVER SHALL BE SO!"

Elrond stepped back, stunned. He has certainly not been expecting a reaction like this. "What happened?"

"GO AWAY! I HATE YOU!" He spotted Elladan just then. "AND YOU, ELLADAN! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU BOTH! LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK!"

"Why do you believe that you hate me so, Estel?" asked Elrond steadily.

"BECAUSE I DO!"

"That is no answer."

"YES IT IS! IT IS MY ANSWER! I CANNOT GIVE YOU AN ELABORATE EXPLANATION, FOR I AM NOT ELF! I AM A MERE HUMAN!"

"Is that why you cut your ears?"

Estel froze, his tirade severed. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Elrond sat down on the bed, careful to keep his distance. Estel still flinched away. "Estel, have some of the young Elves teased you about your ears?" he asked carefully. He was greeted with silence from Estel – confirmation that he had been correct in his assumption. "Please allow me to treat the injuries."

"No."

"If you do not permit me to do so, I will merely slip some sleeping herbs into your evening meal and treat you then."

"Then I shall not eat."

"Estel, I know of many ways to make you sleep, so it is in your best interests to co-operate. Please?"

Estel shrugged. "If you must."

Elrond nodded, then turned to Elladan. "Fetch me the relevant items, Elladan."

Elladan nodded, then left the room. Elrond turned back to Estel. "What have the Elves said that has made you harm yourself like this, child? Please be honest with me."

Estel swallowed hard in an attempt to force back the tears. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't!

He did, though, with a violence that shook his entire body. Elrond gathered him into his arms and this time the child did not pull away as he sobbed. The Lord of Rivendell gently rocked his foster son in an attempt to soothe him, almost crying himself with the pain he sensed radiating from Estel.

It was a long time before the child's sobs subsided and he continued to sniff and hiccup quietly for some time afterwards. Elladan had returned with the items necessary to treat Estel's wounds and had located his twin. Elrohir followed him, a bowl of steaming water in his hands. They deposited their items and silently departed, sensing that their presence was not wanted at this moment in time.

Elrond released his hold on Estel and shifted him from his lap to his bed. Estel was quiet and compliant, though he could not prevent himself from flinching and sucking in his breath sharply as Elrond cleaned the blood from his wounds and applied healing salves.

Elrond eventually sat back. "I have finished treating the physical complaints. However, I have yet to understand why this occurred. I am not expecting you to necessarily give me names, but I would like to know just why you attempted to permanently mutilate and disfigure your ears. Have the other young Elves been saying unpleasant things to you?"

Estel shook his head. "They speak only the truth, Ada."

Elrond arched one eyebrow. At least the child was calling him 'Ada'; that had to be a good thing. "Of what do they speak, ion nîn?"

There was a long silence while Estel struggled to maintain his composure. Eventually he spoke, his voice shaking slightly from the pain the others' words had caused him. "That – that I am useless. That I am stupid. Clumsy. Hopeless. Weak. That you took me in to compensate for not having your wife here any more. That you do not love me and that you favour the twins. That I am a nuisance to them because I cannot do what they can –"

"Remember that they are far older than you, Estel."

"So? I can never be an Elf. The same weakness that was in the blood of Isildur is also in my blood."

Elrond's eyes widened in panic. What has he overheard? What have the other Elves been saying? Does Estel know of his heritage? "Estel, what would make you think that?" he asked nervously, almost afraid of the answer.

Estel shrugged. "I am human, am I not? I am of the same race as Isildur, and therefore I must have the same weakness."

Elrond felt the relief wash over him in a huge wave. So Estel did not know of his direct relation to the long-dead former king of Gondor. That was one less thing to worry over.

"Ada?"

"Yes, my child?"

"Are – are the others telling the truth?"

"Most certainly not!" retorted Elrond. "Estel, you may be human, but the twins and I care not. We do not love you any the less for it."

"But I am vulleran – vurenabb – vullin – vullener – eurgh!" he cried in frustration.

Elrond could not help smiling. "Do you mean 'vulnerable'?"

"Yes! Why does Glorfindel use such big words that I cannot say?"

"Because he believes it makes him seem grander – that, and he does it to irritate the twins," replied Elrond drily.

"Oh. That would make sense. Anyway, as I was saying, I am – that word – to illness and Elves are not."

"I mind not. After all, it is about the only thing that will keep you quiet for a few days." He leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered his voice to a whisper as though imparting a great secret. "I sometimes wish that Elves did succumb to illness occasionally, for the twins drive me mad. It appears to be the only thing that would quieten them. I am sure numerous Rivendell residents secretly agree with me."

Estel giggled. "Especially Glorfindel and Erestor?"

Elrond rolled his eyes in a most un-Elflike manner. "Indeed." He gently drew the child into his lap again. "Making your ears pointy would not change your race; you would still be human."

"But I thought that – that I might get teased less, if I looked like them."

"They would probably tease you all the more for it. Besides, I do not think that pointy ears would suit you." He gently tucked Estel's unruly dark hair behind his bandaged ears. "You will remain indoors until your wounds are healed sufficiently."

"If I must. I do not wish to be teased further. They dislike me enough as it is."

"Then they are the ones in the wrong. You will most likely never be as quiet as an Elf, or many other things, but I can guarantee that you will be far better than most humans."

Estel shrugged. "Maybe."

"I think that you need to sleep."

"But it is only mid-afternoon!"

"You have had a shock and you need to rest. Now, I am sure that you do not wish me to drug you?"

"No!"

"Then rest. I shall be here."

"Thank you." Estel reached up and hugged his foster father. "I love you, Ada," he whispered.

"And I you," replied Elrond sincerely, lowering the child to his bed. He quickly replaced the bloodstained covers (a spare set of bedclothes was always kept in Estel's room). By the time the task was complete, Estel was asleep. Elrond smiled and gently kissed him before settling down in the chair beside the bed. He knew that, with time, Estel would recover both physically and mentally from this incident, and with any luck, there would be virtually no scarring (Elrond prided himself in his healing abilities above all else). Hopefully there would be no repeat of such an occurrence.

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Elvish translations:

ion nîn – my son

~END~