(Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.)
(The stone is a little invention of my own – I hope it works. I think we're over that bridge! Very grateful thanks for the feedback, everyone).
The river is all sparkles. It's singing to me about far off places and snow and high mountains. One of these days I'll go there and watch the snow melt and turn into a little stream. Too cold for me to put my hand in, Papa says. Well, this isn't much warmer. I wiggle my fingers around in the pool. I crouch right down but the light's all wrong and I have to move round again to see the trout that is swimming just out of reach.
"Estel! Leave him alone! If you catch him, I'll ask you to put him back. Old Brown has lived in that pool as long as you have lived here."
I sigh. I know it's rude, and Papa's right, but I think Old Brown must be nice and big and tasty now, and I wouldn't mind having him for supper. I sit back a bit and squint up at Papa, who is sitting on the bank with his eyes closed.
"How did you know?" I ask. "How did you know I was trying to tickle him?"
"You're my son, are you not?"
I crawl up the bank and sit next to him, closing my eyes. My fingers are stinging with the cold so I stick my hands inside my jacket.
"Yes," I say, even though I know it's not really really true. But that's only words. "But how did you know?"
"Old Brown is a challenge. You rarely leave a challenge untouched."
We are silent for a long time. The river is making such sweet music that after a while I begin trying to whistle to it, though I haven't really found out how do that. Halbarad tried to teach me but I don't think my teeth are right yet. There's one wobbly one at the side now that can't decide if it's coming out today or tomorrow or when it's coming out. My tongue won't leave it alone.
"I'll teach you the tune tonight," Papa says, sitting up slowly. "You can make up a new verse for the song if you like. Old Brown deserves a verse of his own."
"It is in the old language?" I ask him. I have two languages in my mouth, the language the elves speak which he says is called Sindarin, and the Common Tongue that everyone speaks. Or most people do, anyway. He says even orcs can speak it. But the old language, well, I can't get my tongue round that yet. I think I only know about three words, and they're not enough to make a whole verse.
"We can write it in Common Tongue, if you like. Then you can teach it to Halbarad. He should be here in a day or so. Are you lonely, child?"
"The house is very big without Elladan and Elrohir. But I don't mind. There's so much to do." I think of the last week and the new books I have read and the map I'm making, and the tree unfurling its last leaf – unfurling – I love that word. I said it lots of times until Papa said he wasn't sure he liked the word any more. And now we are here, and we're supposed to be scouting the place for my swimming pool but all Papa has done is rest.
"That's good. You're a very independent-minded boy. Now, just go up a little further. I'm sure that old pool is here somewhere."
"All right, Papa. I'll go and have a look."
So I leave him on the bank and he watches me and waves when I get a little further away. The rocks are a bit slippery here because it's near one of the little waterfalls that come down the side of the valley. There's a big rock and the water slides over it. The rock is covered in little ferns and moss with big tufts sticking out of it. If I was as small as a beetle this would be a forest.
I take a bit of a wide step and then nearly fall but I manage to grab the rock and keep my balance. I know Papa is watching so I wave as soon as I am safe. The rock has an odd feeling to it. It's much rougher than the rest, which is strange because everything else is smoothed off by the water. I try to move it and I find it's a little bit loose. But it's big and if I move it too much I don't think I'll be able to hold it. I give it one last push.
It falls, and I only just jump back out of the way in time. It leaves a hole in the rock and I am just about to put my hand in there when a shadow falls across the water.
"No, Estel. Let me put the stone back in its place. There," Papa picks up the stone and replaces it. "Let us not disturb the plants and insects that live here. Come – it is time we looked for your swimming place properly. Come, boy." He takes my hand but I don't want to leave. I know there is something special here but Papa will not tell me what it is. I will find out, though. I will.
We spend at least half the afternoon wandering about, lifting stones and looking at small pools. I don't think this swimming pool really exists, or if it did, it was three thousand years ago or something and everything's changed in all those winters. My back is getting tired from bending and my eyes are watering from the sun on the water but Papa is now moving more quickly and he's out a bit further into the river.
"Yes!" he says. "It was here! Look – see where these flat stones go out into the river? If we clear these stones and send the river round here a little way, then I think – yes! Come here and see."
I step over to where he stands and look. The water here is only an inch deep and it trickles quite slowly for many feet until it falls into a pool, where the colour is deeper and the water turns in a slow circle.
"As it runs over the stones it warms a little, and the pool holds it long enough to warm it more. It is very safe for people who want to learn to dive and to swim well. The twins were swimming here when they were three years old." Papa smiles and I know he can see them there as they once were. Well, it may be warm enough for elves but it's making me shiver even to think about it. The time I was caught by the river and nearly drowned, and when I had to sit in that boat with the river flooding by me comes back to me. I don't want to be in this place any more.
Papa knows. He comes and stands right by me, and his hand is on my shoulder and the water is all a thousand little points of light.
"Don't worry. I shall swim with you. It will be good for me."
I can't think of anything to say so I stand and feel Papa close to me. Then something catches my eye. There is something on the river, a boat, a long boat. It is drifting, and there seems to be no one in it, as far as I can see. It is coming close to shore, following the way of the water I suppose.
Papa's hand grips my shoulder more tightly.
"Go back to the house now, Estel. Tell the masons I have found the place and send them straight down here, before I forget where it is again. Go on now!"
The boat comes closer and I want to see what is in it, so I take a step forward.
"No! You must not look! Go on, now, I will see to the boat. Please, child, do as I ask."
I see blood on the stern now, and something lies within the boat, something, I do not know what. Whatever Father says, I must look, for I am suddenly filled with fear. What if it is Elladan? It could be, couldn't it? I cannot see a face but there is a body, lying in the boat, which comes down on the current.
Papa catches the boat by the bow and looks into it. His face is stern but he seems to know what I fear.
"It is no one I know, child. Please – go now. Fetch some help. We must take care of these poor creatures, whoever they may be. Do not return, Estel, not until I tell you you may."
I run then, and my heart is filled with joy that it is not who I thought, and sadness, for the man had a woman with him and I think she was dead too. It was a very sad thing to see.
I know it is late when I wake. Sometimes, it is difficult to tell, but there is no sound from anywhere in the house and that only happens when it is very late. Then I hear a noise from outside, and I know that is what woke me. I get up and go to the window. The stars are very bright and the moon is full. She casts her silver light onto the world, Papa said, and that's just how it looks, all silver and bright.
Down in the courtyard there's a small group of elves. They are all wearing cloaks and their hoods cover their hands so you can hardly see them glow, which looks very strange to me. Their cloaks are blowing round them. It is very windy. Then I see Papa, holding a lantern. He leads them away, down towards the river, and I wonder what they are doing. Surely they are not burying the two who came in the boat? I must see. I think it is something to do with that stone.
I find something to wear and pull on my boots. I run through the corridors and down to the kitchens, where all is quiet and warm. Out of the back door, and round by the greenhouse. I know my way but the moon is helpful. Such a strange light, not like any other. Then I run down the path for a little way.
The elves are there, and they are singing. I duck off the path a little way and try to follow them noiselessly but I don't think I'm very good at that yet. But it is windy, and the trees are rusting and groaning as the wind knocks them about. All the elves go on their way and don't turn back so I suppose they haven't seen me.
Out here in the night, the sounds are all strange. The high wind and the world is rushing by me and I can't catch my breath and I can't think so I follow them. Papa is there but I wish I was standing next to him instead of trying to get through these woods that grab at me. I pull on a branch to free myself and it cracks but the wind carries the noise away.
I slip down the bank to the river and try to keep in the shadows. A noise comes rushing down with the air. The elves are singing and I can hear them somehow, in bits, some notes clear and then only the wind noise. Then something happens in the air around me and the wind stops blowing so hard. In a few moments it is almost still here, but when I look up the treetops still move.
I think I will be found but I don't mind. I want to be found. I have never seen the wind stop blowing like that before. It is too big for me. I want to move out of my hiding place and be found.
I was right. They are going to the stone and I creep a bit closer, hiding among the rocks and trying not to make a sound in the water. I may want to be found, really, but I am a Ranger and we can hide better than anyone.
Now Papa takes the stone out, and he's holding it in some cloth and he lifts it up to the sky. He's singing, really loudly now. The other elves are standing quietly watching him. He turns in one direction – north, I think, and his song changes. I'm trying to sit still but his voice makes feelings inside me, and I want to dance or sing or move, so keeping where I am is harder and harder.
He sings to the south and the west but not to the east. I think the world has become smaller, so that it's just this little piece of it that is important and I know I am lucky to be here. Though perhaps eavesdropping wasn't a good idea. Maybe I should go away now because I think Papa has finished and he is going to put the stone back.
Then I hear him.
"Estel," he says and my heart jumps and then beats very fast.
"Estel – come here. You pulled the stone from its place – come and put it back. Don't be afraid. Your heart led you truly."
I stand up and walk towards him, and it's as if all I can see is him. I know I am getting wet and slipping on the rocks but it doesn't matter because he is keeping me safe.
I come to stand by him.
"Here, child. Put this stone back now, so that it will be secure for another thousand years. The winter storms exposed it to the world so it is time to replace it. I put this stone near here, oh, many, many seasons ago and its power has been replenished many times now. But this is the first time a man will help to replace it."
"What does it do, Papa?" I ask, then feel silly for asking such a question.
"It keeps us safe, child. It keeps you safe. There is another, across the river, and there are others but this is the first one I set. Here, take it. It won't hurt you."
I take it in my hands and feel again the roughness of it. But it feels different now. It is warm and it makes my hands tingle a little. I think I must have smiled because Papa smiled at me.
A new hole has been hollowed out of the rocks, much deeper than the one I found before. I put it carefully on the edge then push and with a little help I manage to settle it back into the rock firmly, so that it can hardly be seen.
"Keep us safe," I say, which is my own idea. "Because it's a big place and there are many things which are dangerous out there."
One by one the elves set off back up to towards the house but Papa stays, his hand on my shoulder, so I stay too, though my eyes are beginning to close. The wind begins to blow again, and the flame in Papa's torch moves this way and that but it doesn't go out.
"Do you understand what it is to love a place, child?" Papa says, so quietly I wonder if I really heard him. "I never thought to become attached to a place as I have to this river, these woods and this house."
"I love it too, Papa. I'm sorry I ran away."
"Let us speak no more of that, Estel. I see now that you were right even if you did not know it. This place misses you when you are gone, though. Do not stay away from it too long, will you."
"I won't. I promise. Can we go now? I'm tired." And I am, too.
Papa takes my hand. "Come, then. I will put you to bed like I used to. Would you like that?"
As I follow him back up the path, he begins a story, a long story I know well, and I join him in my head as he comes to each important bit in it. I am in bed before I know it.
"Tomorrow, we have a mystery to solve. Estel, next time you want to see something, please, ask me? You do not need to hide yourself in your own home."
My own home. I like the sound of that. My bed is big and comfortable, and Papa tells me the end of the story just as I fall asleep. Stones called Silmarils. Lost, a long time ago. Tomorrow, I am going to have a swimming place all of my own.
I like life.
