Dreamcathcer: What in four hells is TTFN? And plenty of my stuff has the
Elf with the Hair in it. I LIKE Arwen. I know, I'm a total minority--even
mr. Graham pretended to gag today when I told him about the movie. Which
reminds me of this brilliant trick I'll have to tell you about. Feel
better! (presuming that's why you were absent)
Empress Sasami: Thanx for reading and I can finally check out yours--yes! Internet is back on my computer!
Arabella Thorne: I've tried to put her thoughts in this chapter. Also, Estel feels no attraction towards her, just a sort of desire to protect her.
To all my readers: Sorry it took so long for me to update. My computer didn't have internet for a while so I couldn't post anything. But I am back!
Disclaimer: I own nothing (except a very tattered copy of LotR)
*****
It had been a while since Estel had seen much of the twins. That was why it was such a big surprise to him when, as he sulked down a corridor deep in resentful thought, a bucket of milk toppled down and drenched him. For a moment he just blinked, stunned, then he heard laughter and noticed Elladan and Elrohir a bit farther down the corridor. "You know, Estel, that's not what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair," Elladan called.
Elrohir was doubled over in silent laughter. "You should've seen your face! You looked so shocked--so utterly surprised--"
"Not utterly, brother," Elladan corrected, "udder-ly!" The two cracked up at the terrible pun. Estel's face broke out in a giant grin. He hadn't wrestled with the twins in far too long.
"I'll show you surprise!" He shrieked, bolting towards the two elves. They straightened up at once, and began to run away from the vicious human-- mostly to keep the milk off their own clothes, but in good humor as well. It didn't take long for Elladan to turn the tables, after Estel rubbed his milky hands through Elladan's hair. Estel ran as fast as he could, giggling uncontrollably. Elladan screamed, threatening to gruesomely murder the boy.
"Estel, I will hang your intestines from the highest tree--make an umbrella of your skin and--" Elladan gasped for breath as he called to the human, whose adrenaline alone kept him safe. Of course, the real threat was a great lot of tickling and perhaps getting knocked to the ground a few times.
"Elladan!" Elrohir called, not so sure of whether or not his twin spoke the truth. "Don't hurt him! He's just a scrawny little human!" Elrohir couldn't resist teasing, just a little.
"I may be human but at least I'm not ugly!" Estel's childish taunts brought only laughter and more threats from the older boys. Finally, Elladan pounced, forcing Estel to the ground. The two wrestled, Estel finally catching Elladan in a headlock--only to be thrown off and mercilessly tickled. Elrohir had begun to torture the boy as well, when Estel suddenly stopped laughing or even smiling. The twins followed his gaze to the doorway.
"Feanor--" She turned and ran.
*****
Estel was at a loss as far as Feanor went. He would not pry, nor ask her what was wrong, because this would most likely prompt distrust. He could teach her no more about reading--she already surpassed him. Finally, he decided to teach her an art she would find quite handy--the sword.
"Weilding it gives you a sense of respect for the blade. If you can understand what this thing can do, you'll know what I mean," Estel said, curling Feanor's fingers around the hilt. He hadn't noticed before how callused and chapped her hands were. Seeing it now, he wanted to stop and ask about them, to never touch her hands again--yet he didn't. Feanor swung the blade lightly. "Only if you're sure you want to learn this."
"I'm sure," she said, transfixed. Honestly the sword frightened her, but Estel wanted her to learn. He had been so nice to her--nicer than anyone else she had ever met. Even Arwen, who tried so hard to be distant, was kind to her. Feanor appreciated everything they did for her, the time they spent trying to help her when she had come to Rivendell so injured, Estel teaching her to write and read. She hoped she could do something in return. Tearing her eyes away from the blade, she looked at him. He cringed under her gaze, then took his up his blade and began to teach her.
*****
"He had better not hurt her," Arwen said, with a touch of anger.
"Oh?" Elrond responded, slightly amused at Arwen's threat. "This from my daughter who will never be close to a mortal?" He remembered Arwen vowing, a few hundred years ago, that no man or woman born to death could touch her heart. It had not bothered him at the time, she was young, and that still applied.
"I am not close to her! Just because I know how hard a time she's had. . .how hard her life's been. . .that doesn't mean I feel any compassion towards her," Arwen swallowed tears as she said this, recalling what had happened to the girl.
"Just because she is afraid to show any emotion or warmth toward anyone does not mean she has a cold heart," Elrond gently reminded his daughter. Perhaps he would've been just as biased towards mortals had it not been for Estel.
"She is human. They are all cold and doomed to die."
"You never did tell me what happened before you brought the girl here."
"Not much. She was found by a hunting party, half-dead already. Galadrial said you would be the only one who could heal her. I offered to bring her." Arwen sighed. "Maybe with another human here she will feel safe."
"Despite what humans did to her?"
"Estel's not from Gondor." Arwen studied her father's face. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Estel is more than from Gondor. Estel is the king of Gondor."
"He is Aragorn?" She was startled. Him, Estel, the stupid boy with the sword and overgrown insecurity complex? "And he knows?"
"No, and you must not tell him. When he is ready to accept it I will tell him who he is."
"Do you think he'll go back?"
"I cannot honestly say. The boy seems nearly as troubled as Feanor."
"They're perfect for each other," Arwen said sarcastically, fearing she was getting closer to these mortals.
*****
Estel took Feanor down to the river as soon as Elrond said she was well enough. He still feared that river--he had not seen his reflection in ages, it seemed, and the river's glassy surface would've been a perfect mirror. Feanor, somewhat reluctant, followed Estel down to the water.
She would not touch the water, either. She sat at its edge, pulling up weeds and running her hands through the grass. Estel sat a bit farther back, hugging his knees. If he sat by her, would he see himself? As Feanor continued to pull up weeds, Estel thought. He wondered if anyone knew who he was. He knew Elrond did--and why had Elrond hidden it from him? Why hadn't Elrond just flat-out said that Estel was not his son? Did Elrond want him to feel this way, raw and alone? Surely the boys knew--he had called them brother, and they had lied. Now he felt open to everything, as if every eye stood to judge him. Only his concern for Feanor kept him from alienating every being.
Estel, wrapped up in thought, did not notice when Feanor picked up the book of numbers and such in front of him, along with his work. He had nearly forgotten about everything until Feanor's voice brought him back to Middle Earth. "This isn't right. Look," she circled something.
He took the book and work from her. "You have studied maths?" He was hardly grasping this, how could it be that such a young girl understood it without tutorial? He only meant to inquire, but she seemed to shrink from him in fear.
"I--I only meant to tell you--I didn't mean an insult--"
"Feanor, please. It's all right, I was just amazed. You're brilliant."
"I'm not really," she said, again pulling weeds.
"You are. You're a genius." She didn't look up, but he could see her flush with pride. He didn't push the point, not to her, but he did not forget her reaction. Why was she afraid to correct him? Why was she reluctant to be special?
*****
"Something is amazing about Feanor," Estel said.
"What?" Elrond asked.
"It isn't impossible for mortals to be amazing," Estel said. "She is. She could teach me to do all the maths you insist I learn. And she has never studied. What are the schools in Gondor that she has neither studied nor been identified?"
"I know not how answer your question, but to say that she will tell you when she is ready."
"When will she be ready?"
"You know well, Estel: that is up to her to decide. As for you, I presume you are prepared for tonight?"
"Tonight? Oh, that! I had completely forgotten." With bigger things on his mind, Estel had forgotten that the Steward of Gondor was coming to visit Elrond. "Must I--?"
"Estel," Elrond warned.
"Must Feanor, then?"
"Yes, both you and Feanor are expected to attend the feast. She is well enough, now."
"Very well." Estel walked out, his shoulders hunched and his muscles taught. As he left, Arwen entered. Elrond sighed.
"What did he want?" Arwen asked.
"If you must know, he has found some genius in his protégé," Elrond replied.
"Are you sure it is wise to have the girl meet Denethor (sp?)?" Arwen asked.
"I think it may do her some good to see that not all mortals are bad people. I have met Denethor and he is a good person. Though I cannot say the same for his son. . ."
"You have not met the son or do not like him?" Arwen inquired, amused, and well aware of the answer to her question.
"Can't stand the boy. He seems to think the world rotates on his fingertips."
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Both of them are coming, are they not? How will you endure them?"
"The younger boy is bookish and kind, the elder. . .perhaps will be less insufferable with faux mirth."
*****
Alone in his room, Estel wanted to cry. More than anything, he wanted to break something, throw things. He wanted to scream like an angry child. He wanted to take all the rage inside him and stab it out with a knife. Instead, he wrote names of people who had hurt him on pieces of parchment (a/n: what else would they write on? Anyone know?) and tore them, then cast them into a fire. This did little good for him.
"Estel?" a soft voice called, accompanying a knock on his door. He grinned to know that his "brother" was locked out. Finally, something made him feel good. Then, just as sudden as his feelings of hate had come on, tears sprung to his eyes. Wasn't Elladan his brother? Hadn't Elladan chased him down a million halls, a million death threats pending? And what about Elrohir? Hadn't he always been there to make sure nothing actually did happen once Elladan had Estel pinned to the ground?
"G-go away!" He coughed out, trying to separate words and mangled sobs.
"Estel, please, I don't--" Elladan's voice was soft, open but not raw. Estel didn't want someone to be nice to him just then.
"Elladan, please!" Estel could hardly hold back his sobs as he tried to think of a good enough lie. "I'm changing for the feast."
"It's not for another three hours, Estel, and you know you're supposed to wash up first." Great, just great! Hearing Elladan's voice was enough to make him cry, a taunt about hygiene was really required! Estel sarcastic coldness again brought on a new wave of tears. "Estel, I'm sorry, really. Listen, I don't know what's bothering you but I do care. You know I do, and Elrohir. We're your brothers, Estel--"
"Go away!" Estel roared. He wasn't Estel--that was not his name. And he had no hope--he brought no hope. And he had no brothers. Elladan backed away, offended, as Estel buried his face in his pillow and cried.
Well? Any opinions? Was it good? Was it bad? Any ideas as to what happened to Feanor? Is anyone even reading this?
Empress Sasami: Thanx for reading and I can finally check out yours--yes! Internet is back on my computer!
Arabella Thorne: I've tried to put her thoughts in this chapter. Also, Estel feels no attraction towards her, just a sort of desire to protect her.
To all my readers: Sorry it took so long for me to update. My computer didn't have internet for a while so I couldn't post anything. But I am back!
Disclaimer: I own nothing (except a very tattered copy of LotR)
*****
It had been a while since Estel had seen much of the twins. That was why it was such a big surprise to him when, as he sulked down a corridor deep in resentful thought, a bucket of milk toppled down and drenched him. For a moment he just blinked, stunned, then he heard laughter and noticed Elladan and Elrohir a bit farther down the corridor. "You know, Estel, that's not what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair," Elladan called.
Elrohir was doubled over in silent laughter. "You should've seen your face! You looked so shocked--so utterly surprised--"
"Not utterly, brother," Elladan corrected, "udder-ly!" The two cracked up at the terrible pun. Estel's face broke out in a giant grin. He hadn't wrestled with the twins in far too long.
"I'll show you surprise!" He shrieked, bolting towards the two elves. They straightened up at once, and began to run away from the vicious human-- mostly to keep the milk off their own clothes, but in good humor as well. It didn't take long for Elladan to turn the tables, after Estel rubbed his milky hands through Elladan's hair. Estel ran as fast as he could, giggling uncontrollably. Elladan screamed, threatening to gruesomely murder the boy.
"Estel, I will hang your intestines from the highest tree--make an umbrella of your skin and--" Elladan gasped for breath as he called to the human, whose adrenaline alone kept him safe. Of course, the real threat was a great lot of tickling and perhaps getting knocked to the ground a few times.
"Elladan!" Elrohir called, not so sure of whether or not his twin spoke the truth. "Don't hurt him! He's just a scrawny little human!" Elrohir couldn't resist teasing, just a little.
"I may be human but at least I'm not ugly!" Estel's childish taunts brought only laughter and more threats from the older boys. Finally, Elladan pounced, forcing Estel to the ground. The two wrestled, Estel finally catching Elladan in a headlock--only to be thrown off and mercilessly tickled. Elrohir had begun to torture the boy as well, when Estel suddenly stopped laughing or even smiling. The twins followed his gaze to the doorway.
"Feanor--" She turned and ran.
*****
Estel was at a loss as far as Feanor went. He would not pry, nor ask her what was wrong, because this would most likely prompt distrust. He could teach her no more about reading--she already surpassed him. Finally, he decided to teach her an art she would find quite handy--the sword.
"Weilding it gives you a sense of respect for the blade. If you can understand what this thing can do, you'll know what I mean," Estel said, curling Feanor's fingers around the hilt. He hadn't noticed before how callused and chapped her hands were. Seeing it now, he wanted to stop and ask about them, to never touch her hands again--yet he didn't. Feanor swung the blade lightly. "Only if you're sure you want to learn this."
"I'm sure," she said, transfixed. Honestly the sword frightened her, but Estel wanted her to learn. He had been so nice to her--nicer than anyone else she had ever met. Even Arwen, who tried so hard to be distant, was kind to her. Feanor appreciated everything they did for her, the time they spent trying to help her when she had come to Rivendell so injured, Estel teaching her to write and read. She hoped she could do something in return. Tearing her eyes away from the blade, she looked at him. He cringed under her gaze, then took his up his blade and began to teach her.
*****
"He had better not hurt her," Arwen said, with a touch of anger.
"Oh?" Elrond responded, slightly amused at Arwen's threat. "This from my daughter who will never be close to a mortal?" He remembered Arwen vowing, a few hundred years ago, that no man or woman born to death could touch her heart. It had not bothered him at the time, she was young, and that still applied.
"I am not close to her! Just because I know how hard a time she's had. . .how hard her life's been. . .that doesn't mean I feel any compassion towards her," Arwen swallowed tears as she said this, recalling what had happened to the girl.
"Just because she is afraid to show any emotion or warmth toward anyone does not mean she has a cold heart," Elrond gently reminded his daughter. Perhaps he would've been just as biased towards mortals had it not been for Estel.
"She is human. They are all cold and doomed to die."
"You never did tell me what happened before you brought the girl here."
"Not much. She was found by a hunting party, half-dead already. Galadrial said you would be the only one who could heal her. I offered to bring her." Arwen sighed. "Maybe with another human here she will feel safe."
"Despite what humans did to her?"
"Estel's not from Gondor." Arwen studied her father's face. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Estel is more than from Gondor. Estel is the king of Gondor."
"He is Aragorn?" She was startled. Him, Estel, the stupid boy with the sword and overgrown insecurity complex? "And he knows?"
"No, and you must not tell him. When he is ready to accept it I will tell him who he is."
"Do you think he'll go back?"
"I cannot honestly say. The boy seems nearly as troubled as Feanor."
"They're perfect for each other," Arwen said sarcastically, fearing she was getting closer to these mortals.
*****
Estel took Feanor down to the river as soon as Elrond said she was well enough. He still feared that river--he had not seen his reflection in ages, it seemed, and the river's glassy surface would've been a perfect mirror. Feanor, somewhat reluctant, followed Estel down to the water.
She would not touch the water, either. She sat at its edge, pulling up weeds and running her hands through the grass. Estel sat a bit farther back, hugging his knees. If he sat by her, would he see himself? As Feanor continued to pull up weeds, Estel thought. He wondered if anyone knew who he was. He knew Elrond did--and why had Elrond hidden it from him? Why hadn't Elrond just flat-out said that Estel was not his son? Did Elrond want him to feel this way, raw and alone? Surely the boys knew--he had called them brother, and they had lied. Now he felt open to everything, as if every eye stood to judge him. Only his concern for Feanor kept him from alienating every being.
Estel, wrapped up in thought, did not notice when Feanor picked up the book of numbers and such in front of him, along with his work. He had nearly forgotten about everything until Feanor's voice brought him back to Middle Earth. "This isn't right. Look," she circled something.
He took the book and work from her. "You have studied maths?" He was hardly grasping this, how could it be that such a young girl understood it without tutorial? He only meant to inquire, but she seemed to shrink from him in fear.
"I--I only meant to tell you--I didn't mean an insult--"
"Feanor, please. It's all right, I was just amazed. You're brilliant."
"I'm not really," she said, again pulling weeds.
"You are. You're a genius." She didn't look up, but he could see her flush with pride. He didn't push the point, not to her, but he did not forget her reaction. Why was she afraid to correct him? Why was she reluctant to be special?
*****
"Something is amazing about Feanor," Estel said.
"What?" Elrond asked.
"It isn't impossible for mortals to be amazing," Estel said. "She is. She could teach me to do all the maths you insist I learn. And she has never studied. What are the schools in Gondor that she has neither studied nor been identified?"
"I know not how answer your question, but to say that she will tell you when she is ready."
"When will she be ready?"
"You know well, Estel: that is up to her to decide. As for you, I presume you are prepared for tonight?"
"Tonight? Oh, that! I had completely forgotten." With bigger things on his mind, Estel had forgotten that the Steward of Gondor was coming to visit Elrond. "Must I--?"
"Estel," Elrond warned.
"Must Feanor, then?"
"Yes, both you and Feanor are expected to attend the feast. She is well enough, now."
"Very well." Estel walked out, his shoulders hunched and his muscles taught. As he left, Arwen entered. Elrond sighed.
"What did he want?" Arwen asked.
"If you must know, he has found some genius in his protégé," Elrond replied.
"Are you sure it is wise to have the girl meet Denethor (sp?)?" Arwen asked.
"I think it may do her some good to see that not all mortals are bad people. I have met Denethor and he is a good person. Though I cannot say the same for his son. . ."
"You have not met the son or do not like him?" Arwen inquired, amused, and well aware of the answer to her question.
"Can't stand the boy. He seems to think the world rotates on his fingertips."
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Both of them are coming, are they not? How will you endure them?"
"The younger boy is bookish and kind, the elder. . .perhaps will be less insufferable with faux mirth."
*****
Alone in his room, Estel wanted to cry. More than anything, he wanted to break something, throw things. He wanted to scream like an angry child. He wanted to take all the rage inside him and stab it out with a knife. Instead, he wrote names of people who had hurt him on pieces of parchment (a/n: what else would they write on? Anyone know?) and tore them, then cast them into a fire. This did little good for him.
"Estel?" a soft voice called, accompanying a knock on his door. He grinned to know that his "brother" was locked out. Finally, something made him feel good. Then, just as sudden as his feelings of hate had come on, tears sprung to his eyes. Wasn't Elladan his brother? Hadn't Elladan chased him down a million halls, a million death threats pending? And what about Elrohir? Hadn't he always been there to make sure nothing actually did happen once Elladan had Estel pinned to the ground?
"G-go away!" He coughed out, trying to separate words and mangled sobs.
"Estel, please, I don't--" Elladan's voice was soft, open but not raw. Estel didn't want someone to be nice to him just then.
"Elladan, please!" Estel could hardly hold back his sobs as he tried to think of a good enough lie. "I'm changing for the feast."
"It's not for another three hours, Estel, and you know you're supposed to wash up first." Great, just great! Hearing Elladan's voice was enough to make him cry, a taunt about hygiene was really required! Estel sarcastic coldness again brought on a new wave of tears. "Estel, I'm sorry, really. Listen, I don't know what's bothering you but I do care. You know I do, and Elrohir. We're your brothers, Estel--"
"Go away!" Estel roared. He wasn't Estel--that was not his name. And he had no hope--he brought no hope. And he had no brothers. Elladan backed away, offended, as Estel buried his face in his pillow and cried.
Well? Any opinions? Was it good? Was it bad? Any ideas as to what happened to Feanor? Is anyone even reading this?