Chapter 49: More difficult footing
Year 2981
"Off so soon?"
Estel half-smiled, but nodded, his grey eyes studying the land around them. "Yes. Though most humans wouldn't consider nearly two years a quick visit."
"Most don't live among elves," she countered softly, leaping lightly onto a craggy bit of the mountain that offered a better view, and much more difficult footing.
Estel inclined his head in agreement. "Mirkwood is alright, as far as dark and dreary forests go, but I have a place of my own to discover, to forge."
"To claim," she countered quietly.
He looked at her sharply.
"Oh, come on. Even Ada knows you're the lost King of Men, and he cares little about humans."
He snorted. "Lovely."
She tilted her head inquisitively. "What's wrong with it?"
"Not with him knowing, so much as being the 'Lost King of Men.'"
"Then I shall reiterate, as you misunderstood—what's wrong with it?"
"The Lost King of Men… I am very lost, Zairil—I don't feel like a King."
"No good King ever does."
He frowned. "What?"
She chuckled softly. "A good King is a servant to his people, Estel. Thranduil is a fair example—he spends most of his life settling petty disputes and planning celebrations to try and keep the Kingdom together as darkness grows and the urge to head West begins to stir."
"Shouldn't he encourage them to go West?"
With a faint smile, she shrugged. "If they ask him what he would do in their shoes, he will tell them, quite simply, that he would listen to his heart. If it told him it was time to go, he would go—he will, too, but I daresay it will be long after the majority do. His responsibility here has a great claim upon his heart."
Estel smiled, and shook his head. "I suppose I should announce my intentions at some point."
She chuckled at the so subtle query. "I shall tell Legolas, he shall inform Thranduil. They are the only two who need be officially told, as much as it being passed on like that can be called official."
Estel inclined his head. "Thank you."
She studied him for a time. "Had you come earlier, you would have learned what the twins no doubt wished you to learn, while here."
"Earlier?"
"Before Legolas was the crowned prince—he had far more time for fun, for friends, when he did not have that responsibility, as well."
"I would have benefited little, then."
"Why would you believe that?"
"Because I was only ten when he gained that title."
She chuckled softly. "Point to you."
The smile he wore faded as he studied the clouds. "The weather looks to change."
"It often does—in a few days this will have blown over."
"Then I'll just have to endure it, won't I?"
"Why on earth would you have thought to leave any more quickly than that?"
"I am human, Zairil—not everything must be done in the time of immortals."
With a soft laugh she returned to the small bit of floor that had been long ago cleared and smoothed to form an observation platform at this point in the mountain. "I would say who, even human, would be so hasty… but I have been in such a hurry myself. Must you leave before a week is past?"
After a moment, he nodded his head—with just enough hesitation to indicate he was tempted to stay.
"If you left any sooner than that, you'd miss the autumn celebration."
"You have many celebrations in this wood, and all seem much like forest-circles."
She quirked a brow. "You've been wandering without your guardian after curfew, have you?"
He blinked at her in shock.
Her laughter startled a few creatures around them, and echoed pleasantly down the narrow stairs as they wound their way back to the main halls. "Very well, then. If you leave before nightfall, heading east, you should miss the worst of it."
They passed a room, both glancing in out of habit. Zairil smiled slightly and continued. Estel paused for an instant before following her. "Is it just my imagination, or are they… quieter than usual?"
"They begin to understand each other, at least," she agreed, closing the corridor's doors behind them.
"You're hoping for more," he accused. Even he knew the doors were almost never closed.
"They are my parents," she murmured. "Is it so odd that I wish them to at least get along?"
"I suppose not," he allowed, pausing when their paths would clearly part. "I shall say farewell now, Zairil, just in case."
"Just in case you are too busy escaping us to say goodbye to a friend?"
He smiled ruefully, and shook his head. "Zai."
She smiled gently, and hugged him, leaning her head down the tiny bit needed to bring their foreheads together. "Farewell," she said at length, straightening. "Do try to stay out of trouble… or at least, out of trouble that you can't get back out of."
"I shall certainly do my best," he agreed dryly.
She chuckled, then looked back at the way they'd come, her eyes clouding a bit. "Watch the sky, the creatures around you. Even without tongues they can—and often will tell you more than those around you who speak Westron."
"You failed to mention to watch the ground."
"I thought the ground would be a given—else you would walk over a cliff!"
"But I would have kept watch on the sky."
"As you tumbled away from it?" she teased, shaking her head. "Use what little I have been able to teach you, and try to have faith—in yourself, in the history contained within your veins."
"You have taught me a great deal, Zairil of Mirkwood and Lothlorien. I shan't forget it."
Her smile was faint, weary. "Then there is nothing left holding you here."
"Would it not be considered rude if I were to simply leave?"
"Elves generally care little for the comings and going of humans—it would be too heart-breaking to do so. With Legolas as distracted as he has been, it will probably take him several days if not weeks to even notice your absence."
"Then perhaps you should tell Thranduil yourself, and then tease him when he finally figures it out."
She laughed softly. "That sounds amusing."
Estel watched her for a short time. "Do you suppose we'll ever meet again?"
"Not planning on ever winding your way back here? You would go all the way around Mirkwood rather than risk visiting?"
He looked at the floor with a small grin. "I suppose we shall meet once more, then."
"So simply say farewell and pack yourself off—goodbyes are far too final, and I've had my fill of them."
With a soft chuckle he did as mockingly ordered, doubling back after an initial start down the hall to give her a hug—feeling faintly foolish as he did so. She was the most demonstrative elf he'd ever come across, and far more free with touch than most humans he'd come across.
He'd gotten used to it.
