Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof
*****
"Estel. Estel!"
The boy shook his head, sending tendrils of black hair flying. Pushing his locks away from grey-blue eyes, Estel focused on the elf stand opposite him. For a moment his focus wavered, and he saw only a blur where a person ought have been, but at last he could see--decently, at any pace.
"Estel, are you all right?" Elladan asked, concerned. The sparring lesson the two had planned for the hour was going nowhere fast. The elf lowered his sword and regarded the young mortal, then sheathed the weapon altogether and strode over to the boy.
"I'm fine--" Estel protested as Elladan felt his forehead for fever.
The elf shook his head. "No, dear, you are not," he replied. "Every time we cross blades you falter, and should you succeed to fend off my advances you are panting after only minutes. To add to this, you do feel quite warm. If you are ill, perhaps--"
"No!" Estel interrupted a little too fervently. Elladan raised an eyebrow, and Estel quickly amended, "It is only being inside all the day; a bit of a walk shall do me no end of good, I am certain. As soon as we are finished here, I do think this is what I shall do: a nice walk, yes." Though aware of his babble, he seemed unable to stop it. How could Elladan possibly understood how he felt? Being a mortal in an elven society, though no one said anything to the effect, Estel was terribly conscious of himself: his bumbling, stumbling, breaking, tripping, clumsy self. Keeping his chin up was difficult enough, he needed no fever to make things even more so!
Though he was quite tired. . .
"That will be all for today, I think," Elladan replied. "If I may accompany you on your stroll?"
Estel frowned. Of course, here Elladan tried to be kind, but all he truly managed was to belittle Estel. Treat me like an equal, Estel wanted to shout, but he controlled his temper and shrugged. "If you like to," he replied. After all, who am I to tell you what to do in your own home?
Much to his dismay, Estel's height had yet to exceed five feet. Most mortals at his age had considerably more height, and here he was amongst elves, not only clumsy but painfully short at four foot six and no longer a child at thirteen years. What could possibly be wrong that he could not grow another twelve inches? As the young man walked beside the elf in the gardens, his shortness became terribly apparent.
"'Tis a beautiful day today," Elladan commented, to break the quiet, and indeed it was: the sky itself in its clearness displayed the truth of eternity, a calm wind rustled through immaculate-seeming greenery. Elladan, thought Estel, like his brother and his father and most of the Elves, is like the garden with all its roses and the like. I, then, am a forest, overlapping and bustling and in and out and in again, all crazily unarranged. All these flowers, they belong; Elladan, he belongs, but me? Where and to whom do I belong?
"No one," Estel muttered.
"What was that?" Elladan asked. "No one what?"
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking. . ." Now he realized what a mistake had been made. Among the eves, Estel was known for his quiet ways, perhaps singularly for this reason. "I should like to keep it to myself, if this follows with you."
Elladan regarded him oddly, but allowed him his privacy. After all, the Eldar thought, he is of another kind. "If you do wish to share your thoughts--" Elladan began, but before he was very far into his speech, Estel interrupted, "You know, I do feel much better now. Perhaps I shall see if there is anything needs doing in the library! Good day to you, Elladan!"
"I shall see you at supper, Estel; good day," Elladan replied, watching the boy not-quite-hurry along: unknown to Elladan, Estel's vision had not cleared, and his mind seemed fuzzy as well. Oh, well. Surely it would pass. The elf worried about the boy: what ailed him? In this Elladan referred not only to Estel's illness, but to his odd manner. Most unlike Estel!
Within the library, Estel found Lords Glorfindel and Elrond. The moment he entered they stared at him, oppressing him to a state of silence, then at last Elrond asked, "Yes, Estel, what is it?"
"Um. . .nothing, sir," Estel replied, "sorry to have bothered you and all." The term "sir" he easily accounted for: though more often than not Estel referred to Elrond as Ada, this being Father, some times more formal titles sprang from his tongue: he simply deemed them applicable. He began to withdraw from the room, but Elrond stopped him.
"Here, Estel, I had not meant to be short with you; the moment was inopportune. What did you seek?" Elrond asked, not in an unkind manner, yet in a more-than-inviting tone: you will answer me, Estel.
"Oh, I sought work, maybe putting books back where they belong, but it is clear that you are occupied," Estel replied, attempting another retreat. I know when I am not wanted!
"Well," said Elrond, tactically maneuvering Estel into the room, "should you not be studying with Elladan?"
Estel blushed. "Elladan. . .called an early halt to the lesson. Have you any work for me, Ada?" he added quickly, before Elrond might inquire as to why Elladan dismissed Estel in such an untimely manner.
"Certainly Estel, here. . ." Occupied with a stack of books to re-place, Estel thanked Elrond and slipped his hands beneath the pile, expertly hefting the lot against his hip to leave one hand free. "It appears this conversation must be continued later, Glorfindel, my apologies," said Elrond, who thought it not appropriate that Estel heard the topic in question.
"It is understood," Glorfindel replied. "Perhaps--" But he was cut off by a mighty crash, a sound as though a certain four-foot-six-inch boy carrying a number of books had fallen to the ground, and turning the elves found that this was indeed so. Estel, for no obvious reason, had fallen, and was making no move to rise again.
*****
To be continued. . .
Author's note: Just to let everyone know, this chapter is written terribly. "Show, not tell" is the most important rule. Sometimes writing itself is more important than writing well. . .
*****
"Estel. Estel!"
The boy shook his head, sending tendrils of black hair flying. Pushing his locks away from grey-blue eyes, Estel focused on the elf stand opposite him. For a moment his focus wavered, and he saw only a blur where a person ought have been, but at last he could see--decently, at any pace.
"Estel, are you all right?" Elladan asked, concerned. The sparring lesson the two had planned for the hour was going nowhere fast. The elf lowered his sword and regarded the young mortal, then sheathed the weapon altogether and strode over to the boy.
"I'm fine--" Estel protested as Elladan felt his forehead for fever.
The elf shook his head. "No, dear, you are not," he replied. "Every time we cross blades you falter, and should you succeed to fend off my advances you are panting after only minutes. To add to this, you do feel quite warm. If you are ill, perhaps--"
"No!" Estel interrupted a little too fervently. Elladan raised an eyebrow, and Estel quickly amended, "It is only being inside all the day; a bit of a walk shall do me no end of good, I am certain. As soon as we are finished here, I do think this is what I shall do: a nice walk, yes." Though aware of his babble, he seemed unable to stop it. How could Elladan possibly understood how he felt? Being a mortal in an elven society, though no one said anything to the effect, Estel was terribly conscious of himself: his bumbling, stumbling, breaking, tripping, clumsy self. Keeping his chin up was difficult enough, he needed no fever to make things even more so!
Though he was quite tired. . .
"That will be all for today, I think," Elladan replied. "If I may accompany you on your stroll?"
Estel frowned. Of course, here Elladan tried to be kind, but all he truly managed was to belittle Estel. Treat me like an equal, Estel wanted to shout, but he controlled his temper and shrugged. "If you like to," he replied. After all, who am I to tell you what to do in your own home?
Much to his dismay, Estel's height had yet to exceed five feet. Most mortals at his age had considerably more height, and here he was amongst elves, not only clumsy but painfully short at four foot six and no longer a child at thirteen years. What could possibly be wrong that he could not grow another twelve inches? As the young man walked beside the elf in the gardens, his shortness became terribly apparent.
"'Tis a beautiful day today," Elladan commented, to break the quiet, and indeed it was: the sky itself in its clearness displayed the truth of eternity, a calm wind rustled through immaculate-seeming greenery. Elladan, thought Estel, like his brother and his father and most of the Elves, is like the garden with all its roses and the like. I, then, am a forest, overlapping and bustling and in and out and in again, all crazily unarranged. All these flowers, they belong; Elladan, he belongs, but me? Where and to whom do I belong?
"No one," Estel muttered.
"What was that?" Elladan asked. "No one what?"
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking. . ." Now he realized what a mistake had been made. Among the eves, Estel was known for his quiet ways, perhaps singularly for this reason. "I should like to keep it to myself, if this follows with you."
Elladan regarded him oddly, but allowed him his privacy. After all, the Eldar thought, he is of another kind. "If you do wish to share your thoughts--" Elladan began, but before he was very far into his speech, Estel interrupted, "You know, I do feel much better now. Perhaps I shall see if there is anything needs doing in the library! Good day to you, Elladan!"
"I shall see you at supper, Estel; good day," Elladan replied, watching the boy not-quite-hurry along: unknown to Elladan, Estel's vision had not cleared, and his mind seemed fuzzy as well. Oh, well. Surely it would pass. The elf worried about the boy: what ailed him? In this Elladan referred not only to Estel's illness, but to his odd manner. Most unlike Estel!
Within the library, Estel found Lords Glorfindel and Elrond. The moment he entered they stared at him, oppressing him to a state of silence, then at last Elrond asked, "Yes, Estel, what is it?"
"Um. . .nothing, sir," Estel replied, "sorry to have bothered you and all." The term "sir" he easily accounted for: though more often than not Estel referred to Elrond as Ada, this being Father, some times more formal titles sprang from his tongue: he simply deemed them applicable. He began to withdraw from the room, but Elrond stopped him.
"Here, Estel, I had not meant to be short with you; the moment was inopportune. What did you seek?" Elrond asked, not in an unkind manner, yet in a more-than-inviting tone: you will answer me, Estel.
"Oh, I sought work, maybe putting books back where they belong, but it is clear that you are occupied," Estel replied, attempting another retreat. I know when I am not wanted!
"Well," said Elrond, tactically maneuvering Estel into the room, "should you not be studying with Elladan?"
Estel blushed. "Elladan. . .called an early halt to the lesson. Have you any work for me, Ada?" he added quickly, before Elrond might inquire as to why Elladan dismissed Estel in such an untimely manner.
"Certainly Estel, here. . ." Occupied with a stack of books to re-place, Estel thanked Elrond and slipped his hands beneath the pile, expertly hefting the lot against his hip to leave one hand free. "It appears this conversation must be continued later, Glorfindel, my apologies," said Elrond, who thought it not appropriate that Estel heard the topic in question.
"It is understood," Glorfindel replied. "Perhaps--" But he was cut off by a mighty crash, a sound as though a certain four-foot-six-inch boy carrying a number of books had fallen to the ground, and turning the elves found that this was indeed so. Estel, for no obvious reason, had fallen, and was making no move to rise again.
*****
To be continued. . .
Author's note: Just to let everyone know, this chapter is written terribly. "Show, not tell" is the most important rule. Sometimes writing itself is more important than writing well. . .