And finally we reach the end! There have been moments I thought I would never finish this story.
References in this chapter to the stories "Even the Birds are Chained to the Sky" and "Protector of Dreams."
Estel
Rhawion is like a limpet. I have been gone too long and he clings to me from the moment I step foot out of my bed. In the end, to give my mother peace, I take him down to the shore.
We look for shells. He loves it, burrowing amongst the sand looking for treasures that he cherishes, hiding them deep in his pockets to exclaim over later. Despite his energy and his endless questions it is restful being with his simplicity after the last few weeks.
"Can we build a castle?" he asks me, "Is it the right time?"
Rhawion's favourite game by the sea is to build castles in the sand then stand and watch as the tide destroys them.
I look closely at the sea before I answer.
"Yes it is the right time," I tell him, "we can do that."
I must be careful where we choose to build and the timing of it or I will be stood out here for hours waiting for the waves to catch our tower.
He is all concentration once we begin, tongue sticking out between his lips. We have done this many times and he has honed his skills, developed a favourite castle he believes is strongest against the sea. We have barely created our central pile before I sense somebody else on the sand.
It is Aragorn-the King. He stands at the edge of the path and he is uncertain of his welcome here I think. He raises a hand and I reply in kind but as I hesitate . . . wondering what I should do next. . . Do I really want to talk to him? . . . Rhawion decides for me.
"Do you want to see my shell?" He calls out to Aragorn.
And Aragorn smiles.
"Certainly I do." He strides down the beach towards us. So I will have no choice but to do this.
"Look!" Rhawion is all excitement now as he opens his small hand to reveal the shell inside, "we found a purple one!"
"Well," Aragorn holds the shell carefully, turning it in his hand as if it is a priceless jewel. "That is an impressive one." Gently he hands it back to Rhawion. "You need to keep that safe," he says, all seriousness. It is obvious he knows small boys.
"It is for my mother." Rhawion tells him. "She is the most beautiful!"
"Indeed she is." Aragorn does not miss a beat and Rhawion nods his head seriously, satisfied with that response.
"What do you think of our castle?" he asks.
"It has some way to go." Aragorn smiles, "but I can see it will be very majestic when you have finished. A bit near the sea though," he says lifting his eyes to me.
"That is the point of it," I explain. "We build it and then watch it fall."
He bends down then to Rhawian's level. "Can I help?" He asks him.
Rhawion is torn, I can see it written all over his face, and he bites on his lip, unsure.
"It is mine and Estel's castle," he says in the end.
"Hmm . . ." Aragorn taps his fingers on his chin as if he thinks deeply on this. "How about a competition. Shall we see who is best at castle building? The elves or the Men? Whose castle will last the longest against the sea?"
"Yes!" It is the perfect solution and Rhawion is instantly excited. "We will win!" He cries, "Come on, Estel!"
I never thought I would be on my knees in the sand building castles with Aragorn-the-King.
Looking across I see the beginnings of his defences. It is a disaster. Has he never done this before? We will not even have to try and we will beat him. But he looks up, catches my disbelieving gaze and his eyes sparkle. Oh he knows this game. He knows just how important it is he loses at this if a small boy is to like him!
Eldarion, however, does not know the game so well.
He arrives as we are about three quarters done.
"What are you doing?" he calls, and I see the flash of displeasure across Rhawions face, a childish pout. It makes me nervous. I need him to like Eldarion. I want him to like him.
But Eldarion is clumsy. He does not have Aragorn's delicate finesse or obvious skill with small boys. He is not a father, I guess, so has not learned it. Though he had Tinu . . . Did he not play with her when she was small?
He approaches our castle and reaches out to touch it but quick as a flash Rhawion's small body is between him and the pile of sand.
"This is our castle!" He says firmly, a frown upon his face. "Yours is that one." He nods towards Aragorn's. "This is the elves' castle!" It is hurtful, but he is small.
But before I can intervene and smooth the waters, Aragorn does.
"Thank goodness you are here," he says. " I did not know the Silvan's had such a fine castle builder hidden away. I need your help, Eldarion. Whoever's lasts against the sea the longest is the winner."
And Eldarion looks at his fathers dreadful attempt with confused horror.
"What are you doing? You can build better than this, Father!"
While Rhawion stands, watching them carefully, eyes darting from one to the other.
"These are new techniques I learned in Dol Amroth," Aragorn replies smoothly. "If you are lucky I will teach you all about them. Less talk, more action, Eldarion. Come and be useful."
If only I could have a word in Eldarion's ear. Explain what it is his father does, how softly he needs to tread. But there is no way I can reach him with Rhawion guarding me like a prize he has won. They whisper together, he and Aragorn, and I can only hope Aragorn gives him some pointers.
The instant the first wave laps at our walls Rhawion is dancing.
"Stop! Stop!" he cries. "It is time to stop. Now we will see who wins!"
It is, of course, a foregone conclusion. One all of us, but Rhawion, can see. He is breathless with tension and anticipatIon as every next wave creeps closer and closer, breaking down all our hard work. With every chunk of sand that crumbles he squeals. He is triumphant when the last of Aragorn and Eldarion's hopeless construction falls into the sea.
"The elves have won!" he cries.
"Well I do not know what happened." Aragorn shakes his head sadly. "Imrahil promised me that would work."
"You were doing it all wrong." Rhawion laughs. "I will show you!" And magnanimously he begins to organise them to start again, this time under his direction.
I chose that moment to slip away. Rhawion is happy educating these foolish men in their castle building errors and my father and Elrohir have joined us on the shore. They sit and watch us and I join them.
"What are they doing?" Father smiles up at me. "That looks like a collection of rogues if ever I saw one."
"We were playing the castle game. Aragorn lost rather masterfully. Rhawion shows him the error of his ways now."
"Well I hope Aragorn pays attention then," Elrohir grins. There is something different about him, but when I try to put my finger on exactly what it is it eludes me.
Behind me Aragorn is laughing for a rogue wave has caught him while he was not watching.
"Does he not remind you of Elladan?" Elrohir asks my father.
"Who? Rhawion?" Father is momentarily confused.
"No, you fool. Aragorn. I thought the other day when I saw him down here. He is so relaxed. The sea transforms him.
Father leans forward to stare intently at the threesome down by the waves.
"You mean the sea-longing?" he exclaims eventually "you think Aragorn has it?"
"Eärendil's version obviously," Elrohir replies. "And far milder and more benevolent than anything Elladan has had. There have been so many generations to wash it away of course. I just wondered."
"Perhaps you are right," Father muses. "Before yesterday I had never seen him at the sea." He leaps to his feet then. "I think they need my supervision. Will you accompany me?" He holds out his hand but Elrohir waves him away.
"In a second. I have something I must say to Estel."
So Father leaps into the fray.
"We won, Legolas!" I hear Rhawion tell him, excitedly. The elves won the castle game!"
"I am surprised at that," Father grins across at Aragorn-the -King. "Aragorn used to have such a fine castle too, and we are only wood-elves who live in trees."
"Well I inherited that castle, Legolas, remember. I did not build it myself." Aragorn certainly always has the perfect response and I am surprised when Rhawion reaches up and takes him by the hand.
"Tomorrow," he says, "I will build with Aragorn-the -King and you can build with Estel, Legolas." He has left Eldarion out altogether and that fact does not pass me by.
Father has it all in hand.
"Estel, Elrohir and I against you, Aragorn and Eldarion," he says, "since you have taught them so well. I imagine we will have no chance."
Rhawion hesitates.
He looks toward Eldarion. He is by no means certain of this at all. He is not used to me being absent. This is possibly the longest he has been apart from me other than my trips to Elrohir, and he saw, last night, it was Eldarion who had me.
I hold my breath.
But in the end he cannot resist both the possibility of another triumphant win and the praise for his teaching.
"Yes, all right." he gives in.
He has given Eldarion a chance.
"It is beautiful, is it not?" Elrohir says beside me, as I sit upon the sand and I look at him in confusion. "Seeing them together," he clarifies, "after all this time, happy."
"Well yes . . ." I turn back to gaze on them as they frolic in the water, drenching each other in the waves. They are all soaking wet. My mother will not be pleased.
Actually maybe she will be. Maybe she will be very pleased indeed.
"I owe you an apology." Elrohir continues. "I am deeply sorry, Estel, for my behaviour over Eldarion."
"It is alright." It really is. Eldarion and I have thrashed it out and I understand. I know what it is to worry about my father, to want to keep him safe.
"No, it is not alright. I treated you badly, and Eldarion, and Legolas." He pauses then. I think he considers something. "I want you to know I am very proud of you, son."
He sweeps the floor out from under me. He has never before called me that, never. Erynion does constantly, usually when he tries to keep me on the straight and narrow, but never Elrohir. He is my father. As long as I have known him I have always seen him as that. But I have never been sure if he did.
So I have no answer for him when I should have. I am speechless.
"Thank you," I stammer in the end and Eldarion saves me as he comes to sit next to me, breaking the spell. He is soaking wet.
"Your brother is a wild thing."
"My brother is my heart," I tell him. "He is wary of you. You must try to win him over. He has a lot of love to give once he trusts you."
"He does not like me very much, I fear," Eldarion sighs.
"Give it time, Eldarion." Elrohir says next to us. "Small boys take time. The first time I met your father he kicked me black and blue. The second time he threatened to kill me. So you are doing quite well with Rhawion all things considered."
"I do not remember asking you, Elrohir." Eldarion replies and I wince. So he has not forgiven Elrohir as I have, then.
"No," he replies, "but I do have experience with boys. It will be important for you both that Rhawion accepts you."
"And you care greatly about Estel and I being a success, of course." There is bitter sarcasm in Eldarion's words. They are hurtful. He hurts Elrohir, which he seeks to do, but he also hurts me.
"I do." It is a simple reply and Elrohir gets to his feet then. "I am sorry I have hurt you, Eldarion," he sighs. "I would like try and repair that if you would let me, but perhaps another day." He drops his hand to ruffle my hair as he did when I was small then he turns his face to my father and instantly his smile is glorious. Father is wrestling with Rhawion on the sand and Elrohir jogs toward them. He launches himself at Father knocking him to one side so my small brother slips free.
"Run," he cries, "Run, Rhawion. I will hold him for you."
And Rhawion runs, shrieking with laughter as he goes, but he does not run far. He wants to be caught.
But me? Suddenly I am caught. Briefly trapped in memories I would rather not revisit. I think of my fathers words the night before. He urged me to be strong, to face my fears, to hold myself accountable for the sake of both Eldarion and I. Is this the kind of thing he was meaning? Do I speak or do I hold my tongue? I take a deep breath and against my better judgement choose the former.
"Did your parents argue when you were small?"
My words take Eldarion by surprise. He has been miles away.
"Well of course."
"I do not mean arguing about your bedtime or what to have for dinner. I mean with words so sharp they sliced each others fea to pieces."
He looks shocked by that,
"No . . . Well, yes. Once they did that. I was nearly grown then, not a child." I am surprised by that answer. Briefly I consider probing it, but that is just an excuse to distract myself. I will file it away to ask about later.
"Mine did." I say flatly. " I have told you this already. And I still carry the scars. And every hurtful word they threw at each other hurt me too, because I loved them both. It was an agony to hear. I promised myself, once all was better, when they learned how to love each other again, I would never again sit between two people I loved as they tore each other apart."
He looks at me with concern.
"I understand," he says.
"No, I do not think you do. I have told you before also that Elrohir is my parent, my father. I know you struggle with the idea of that but that does not make it any less true. I know he has hurt you. I know there are many issues that lie between you, not just this most recent one. I know he is not perfect by any means. I will help you improve things. I will listen when you need to speak on it. I will give you advice if you would take it. But I will not, I will not, ever sit here again whilst you throw barbs in his direction designed to hurt. I will not do that. For they hurt me also, Eldarion. I am warning you now, the next time that happens I will get up and leave."
He is white-faced and still. For a moment I am afraid I have gone too far.
"Forgive me." Finally he speaks and he drops his head. "You are right. I was out of line."
"Fight with him all you want," I give him the smallest of grins to try and make it easier for him, "but not in front of me, never in front of me."
I reach out then to take his hand for he looks as if he needs it, and we sit, watching Elrohir, Aragorn-the-King and my father as they run about like children. Truly Elrohir was right. It is a beautiful sight.
"Did you mean it?" Eldarion says softly beside me. "You said you would not sit again between two people you love as they argue. Did you mean it? That that was what happened here?
He asks me if I love him for my love for Elrohir is not in doubt.
I find I do not have to think when I answer.
And my answer is yes.
The End