Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were mine, Middle Earth and everyone in it are still Tolkien's.
O0o
As a healer, Aragorn had always viewed the miracle of birth as a success and a wonder. As a father, Eldarion's long awaited birth had well-nigh overwhelmed his heart with joy.
He stood in Arwen's room before a window that overlooked the city, but today his gaze was not on the view. His eyes were on the small body snuggled up against his chest.
The small limbs began to wriggle, and the baby began to murmur sleepily. His small lips opened wider to let out a squall. "There now, my dear one," Aragorn murmured. "There's no need to cry."
He moved to a chair sitting enticingly nearby and sat, shifting the child to the crook of his arm. With his free hand, he wrapped the blankets more closely around the little form. His fingers gently touched Eldarion's tiny skull, delighting in the soft layer of down that covered it. His finger then sought Eldarion's little fist, stroking the soft, warm, tiny hand. The baby's squirming stilled, and he gave a content murmur that was the equivalent of a coo from an older babe's lips.
There was the slightest whisper of unclad feet against the wooden floor boards, then he felt the gentle caress of slender fingers on his shoulder.
"He has his father's eyes," Arwen whispered. She was dressed in a shift of white linen and a delicately embroidered robe, and her unbound hair fell in a dark mass down her back. She looked just as beautiful to Aragorn as she had dressed in queenly array, slender figure adorned in garments of scarlet and hemmed with lace, a circlet of silver resting on her head. "I hope that one day he shall have his father's spirit, too."
"I should wish for equal measure of his mother's patience and wisdom," Aragorn replied softly. "I think you should feed him, now, for the twins will be here soon."
Reluctantly he yielded the child to Arwen's arms, and she went to her bed to nurse him. By the time she was finished, the baby's eyes drooped closed, and he dozed peacefully in the warmth of her arms.
By the time Arwen's brothers by nature and Aragorn's by nurture had arrived and Arwen had risen to greet them, Eldarion was wiggling and protesting the disturbing of his slumber.
"Come now," Arwen scolded lovingly, cradling the baby closer to her and swaying back and forth on her feet in a soothing motion. "Is this any way to greet your uncles?" When his sobs quieted, she moved to lay him in Elrohir's arms.
"Remember to keep a hand under his neck," Aragorn said.
Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, then back at Aragorn with a patient sigh.
"We have held babies before, Aragorn," Elrohir said.
"We held you when you were little older than Eldarion, and Arwen as well," added Elladan. "Neither of you suffered any damage."
Then, doubtless remembering the countless injuries Aragorn had obtained in the Wild over the years, they said in unison, "And when you did, it was not our fault!"
Arwen smiled, kissed the baby's downy head, and passed him to Elrohir.
"Hail and well met, little one," the elf murmured with a smile, gently cradling Eldarion. The baby's tiny fingers curled around a long lock of dark hair.
"Ever it seems those of our line are fated to have their hearts stolen by the children of men," Elladan remarked, the stern lines of the warrior's face softening into what was almost a gentle smile. "There was not one heart in Ada's household that was not captivated by you, Estel, when you lived in Rivendell."
"Perhaps haunted it would be a better description," Aragorn offered.
The identical upward twist of the twins' lips in response was not missed by Arwen. "What story is behind this?" she asked.
Aragorn, too, was warily studying their faces. "Oh, no," he moaned, suddenly realizing what tale they were remembering.
"Tell me." Arwen drew herself up and gave the three of them a look that somehow combined her father's imperious raised eyebrows and her grandmother's steady, piercing gaze. The result left them gawking with a mixture of meekness and silent amusement.
"Tell me."
"Who are we to resist?" Elladan said, and began.
O0o
It was in the days when the Shadow hung heavy over Mirkwood, where the Necromancer had again taken up residence. A small band of adventurers passed through Rivendell with a lofty quest to slay a dragon and reclaim a homeland. They were, of course, Thorin Oakenshield and his dwarves, along with Gandalf and Master Baggins.
Estel, being a lad of ten summers, was eager to speak with them, for while he had heard of dwarves and even seen one or two travelling through on occasion, he had never seen a hobbit or heard any mention of them in the old legends. Ada demurred, though; it was too great a risk for the dwarves or Master Baggins to have a tale of the young heir of Isildur to take with them and scatter over the Misty Mountains, through Esgaroth, and where ever their feet might have carried them. Estel was a sensible child, and though he was disappointed, we knew he would not fail to obey our ada.
We gave the dwarves the best that our halls could offer. The kitchens produced their best food and drink, and Lindir was in fine form as he sang for them for hours in the halls of fire. Although our guests were anxious to be on their way, they seemed content with the hospitality Ada had offered, from the fine linens to the plentiful feasts. Until one day, when I saw Bilbo sitting on a bench and reading. He was obviously searching for something, flipping so quickly through the tome on his lap that it looked as if he thought he could find dwarvish treasure between the pages. Books laid open beside him on the bench or sat on the floor piled in a teetering stack to the left of his bare toes, which dangled a few inches off the ground.
"Master Baggins!" I said. "What do you seek so diligently? Doubtless Erestor would offer far better aid if you wish to locate something in my father's library, but I will help you as well as I can, if you desire it."
Bilbo looked up, a look of startled but pleasant surprise crossing his lips. "Master Elrohir, is it?"
"Elladan. Can I help you?"
"Thank you, but I was just looking for- "Bilbo hesitated and shook his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "No, never mind now. It's of little importance, and I don't wish to be a bother."
"Nay, you are our most undemanding guest," I assured him, meaning the words with all my heart.
Bilbo had chuckled, now put at his ease. "You mean the dwarves, of course. They put quite a strain on my larder back home, and they never sent word that they were coming! Just walked right in, and- "the hobbit paused again, hand flying up to cover his mouth in dismay. "Oh, dear! And here they've done it again, imposing on Master Elrond's hospitality! And here I am, having done the same thing."
I could not help smiling. "We are glad to shelter all who have need of it, and Mithrandir is an especial friend of our household. I must admit we have not had a chance to show hospitality to a hobbit, and it has been a most pleasant experience. For you as well, I hope. Now, what are you studying so earnestly?"
Bilbo seemed to have found the page he was looking for, and I leaned over to look at the book cradled on his lap.
"The Oath breakers and their appearances in the valley of Harrowdale?" My brow creased into a frown before I could stop it. "Why do you study the sleepless dead, Master Baggins?"
He looked troubled and stared down at his furry feet, swinging them slowly back and forth. "Master Elladan, may I ask you a question?"
"Certainly."
"Do you believe in ghosts? I always thought they were a legend, but now…" Bilbo's voice trailed off as he gestured to the pages of the book.
My mind travelled uncomfortably to the prophecy of Malbeth the Seer about the fate of the Army of the Dead: to lurk in the caverns beneath the Dwimorberg until the day when one of Isildur's heirs would summon them to fulfill their oath, and thus release them from Isildur's curse. "Well, yes, I suppose."
Bilbo's eyes widened, and his back went rigid. "Do you- do you think there might be ghosts here? In Rivendell, I mean? Last night my door moved, and I heard footsteps in the passage. I-I saw something white flash by."
I leaned over to pat his hand, hiding my smile of relief and amusement. "To my knowledge the valley is free from any ghostly presence, Master Baggins. The lighting is strange in the halls at night. Mayhap you saw a trick of the shadows."
"Yes, I'm sure that's it. What a relief," Bilbo said with a smile, releasing a great sigh. "You must think me silly, but so many odd things have happened lately, what with the quest and all. I scarcely know what's a tale and what's true! Perhaps my ghost was just a dream. Heaven knows how my mind has played enough tricks on me since I left the Shire. It's my first time, you know."
"If there is anything we can do to put your mind at rest, master hobbit, you have only to let us know," I said.
O0o
Elladan paused and nodded to Elrohir. "I believe you know more than I from here. And that it is my turn to hold Eldarion."
Elrohir reluctantly passed the child to his brother and picked up the thread of the tale.
O0o
The first I heard of the ghost of Imladris was from the two youngest dwarves. I found them in the halls, whispering nervously to each other.
"Master dwarves," I greeted, unable to summon their names from my memory. A dozen dwarves' names are no easy thing to remember, much less whose faces they belong to.
"May I be of any assistance to you?"
The older quickly demurred, waving a hand in the air. "No, it's nothing, Master-" He paused, apparently having a hard time keeping our names and faces right, too. "Master elf," he finally said.
His brother, though, hesitated. "Do you ever see- ghosts- here, in Lord Elrond's halls?"
"Ghosts?" I said, blinking, and the younger of the two dwarves nodded sheepishly. "I saw one in the halls last night, a figure dressed in white and moving on silent feet. Uncle- I mean, Thorin- thinks I must have had a dream."
"He is probably right, Kili," Fili said, with all the fond confidence and experience only an older brother can display. "You have always had vivid dreams, and the strangest imaginings."
Kili flushed. "Yes, perhaps that's it. I'm sorry to bother you."
"There is no need to apologize," I assured him. "My brother also has vivid dreams." Having no knowledge of Estel, the dwarf naturally assumed I spoke of my twin.
When I told Elladan about the strange experience, he did not laugh. He turned to me with an odd look in his eye that I did not understand until his next words. "Master Baggins claimed he saw a ghost, too."
"Strange that both should have the same dream or experience the same trick of the shadows," I said
"A ghost?" A voice piped from around the corner. We both looked up to see Estel trotting towards us, his feet clad in riding boots and his simple garments speckled with horse hair.
"Our guests claim they saw a ghost," Elladan explained. ""It must have been one of the household dressed in night linen, checking to be sure all was well."
"How was your riding lesson with Glorfindel?" I asked Estel, hoping to divert his attention. He was an imaginative child, and his mind would surely not embrace the plausible explanation if he happened to hear an odd sound in his bedchamber that night. The ploy seemed to work, for his face brightened, and soon Estel was describing his mount in glowing terms.
We ourselves soon began to doubt that there was a plausible explanation. When I spoke to the servants, none of them claimed to have been near the guests' quarters that night.
"Mayhap it was Estel, walking in his sleep again," I speculated to Elladan. He shook his head.
"Glorfindel says that Ada somehow cured him of it when we were gone four years past. He feared Estel would injure himself unknowingly when no one else was awake, tumbling down the stairs or cutting himself on the kitchen knives. Besides, they put a latch on his quarters too complicated for him to undo in his sleep." His brow furrowed thoughtfully. "But what could it be?"
"A true ghost?"
"Elrohir, I was serious."
"So was I."
His eye brow raised skeptically. "Truly? Surely Ada's ri- "Elladan paused, remembering just in time that such things were not fit to be spoken of when there were visitors to Imladris. Estel was not our only closely guarded secret. "Surely Ada is still able to keep any harmful presence out of the valley."
"I know not what to think," I said with a sigh. "The only solution I can think of is to inquire discreetly of Master Baggins and the dwarf what hour the ghost appeared, and to investigate the halls ourselves at that time."
O0o
As the clocks ticked quietly toward the twelfth hour, I was creeping through the dark corridors outside Bilbo's quarters. My fingers curled around the hilt of my knife: a precaution and somewhat of a compromise, as I had decided to carry the small blade instead of my sword. It was a result of the wavering between the trust I held in my ada and the power of Vilya and the fear that perhaps even Rivendell could be penetrated by evil in those dark times.
I had already passed the dwarves' quarters, seeing and hearing no sign of disturbance besides the snores issuing from behind the closed doors. Just in case, I had left Elladan there to watch should there be any further developments. I was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief, for it seemed that no evil lurked in the shadowy corridor before the hobbit's room either. I was turning to leave when suddenly a small but solid mass plowed into my legs. Startled as I was, I was slammed down around on my stomach, with the silver flash of a blade on the corner of my line of sight. Whoever, or whatever it was, slithered off my back, a rigidly outstretched arm pointing a sword awkwardly at me. "Stop there!" a trembling voice commanded.
"Master Baggins?" I said in surprise, pulling myself up on one arm and leaning over so my face was not shadowed.
"Master Elladan?" he squeaked. His look of puzzlement was comically evident even in the dark passage, and his brows furrowed even further. "Or are you Master Elrohir?"
"Elrohir," I said, amused.
"Oh, I am sorry! I thought you were- well, I thought you were a ghost."
"And I thought you- "I sat up abruptly when I heard a soft sound suspiciously like a footstep in the halls. The edge of a white garment billowed, then swept around the corner. I grabbed Bilbo by the shoulders, propelling him to his feet. "Continue forward!" I retreated back several steps, gesturing to a corridor opening beside the door to the hobbit's room. "If I take this passage here, we can cut it off from behind and before." I paused just long enough to hear a sound of nervous assent and the soft pitter-patter of bare hobbit feet, then I flew down the hall. As I emerged from the door at its other end, I saw a white figure racing down the hall toward me, with Bilbo on its heels. The ghost came to an abrupt stop when he saw me, and Bilbo crashed into him. Down they both went in a flurry of tangled white fabric and flailing limbs. A moment later, a curly hobbit head emerged, and a hand plucked the folds of fabric off the wriggling form. Bilbo's startled gaze was met by a pair of grey eyes and the long, slightly gangly limbs that hinted at a lad yet growing into his legs.
"Estel!" I exclaimed. I was at his side at once, pulling him to his feet. The linen sheet fell from his body and puddled around his ankles. "Ai, what do you mean by this?"
"I wanted to see Master Baggins and the dwarves. I came by last night when they were asleep, but I could not get a good enough look. Then I heard you and Dan saying that they thought they had seen a ghost, so I put on a sheet so no one would know it was me if they saw me again."
O0o
Aragorn had been shuffling his feet uncomfortably since Elladan had told of Bilbo's first mention of the ghost. Now he was now blushing furiously as Elrohir finished the tale of Estel's uncharacteristic deed of mischief.
Arwen went off into a peal of merry, helpless laughter. "Ai, Estel! You did not!"
"He did," confirmed Elrohir, grinning. "He gave us a nice little mess to sort out in the middle of the night, too. Of course, we had to give Bilbo an explanation of who Estel was and why he had not been allowed to visit with him or the dwarves. We told him nothing of Estel's lineage at the time, just that he was a member of our family and very precious to us. We asked that Bilbo keep Estel's presence a secret from the dwarves and not tell anyone outside Rivendell about him."
"Bilbo, of course, was anxious not to cause any harm or inconvenience in light of Ada's generous hospitality, and Gandalf hinted that it would not be polite to inquire further," Elladan finished. "Fortunately, after that Estel had a chance to make a better impression on Bilbo. They had a private meeting in the library, and the dear hobbit was impressed by Estel's knowledge of history and his eagerness to learn."
Arwen could still imagine her husband as the handsome, love struck young man who called out to her as she danced. She could still imagine him staggering over the borders of Lothlorien, clothes worn to grimy rags and the warrior underneath all but fainting from lack of food and drink. She could imagine him as she now saw him every day, clothed in a deep scarlet tunic embroidered with the White Tree, glimpses of glittering mail rings beneath his collar, a winged crown sitting on his dark locks. She could even imagine him as the young child of which her ada had wrote to her while she dwelled in Lothlorien: solemn and wise for his years, but with bouts of youthful light heartedness that raised the spirits of all who lived in Rivendell. But, a young Estel allowing his curiosity to lead him stray, wearing a sheet and posing as a ghost haunting the halls of Imladris? That she could not imagine.
She looked over at Eldarion, now cradled in Elladan's arms, the child's delicate little lids drooped shut. Arwen stepped over to her brother's side, gently nudging the baby's fingers, which had curled into a fist. They unfolded just enough to wrap themselves around her finger. "Perhaps, little one," she said softly, her eyes gleaming with quiet merriment, "it is better if you do not have so much of your ada's spirit, after all."