Disclaimer: I wish I owned it! But I have seen The Two Towers, so in your
face everyone who hasn't! Sorry, just wanted to gloat. . .
Fool of a Took: I figured Estel needed to loosen up a bit. And there isn't much more to post after this chapter, you demanding little reviewer! Thanks for reading an' all.
Emmithar: U-hauls and pick-ups, you used the phrase "getting hitched" which makes me think of U-hauls and pick-ups. You get to do any evil deeds you want to Boromir, before Smeagol, just after Estel (you will see what I mean in this chapter). I am just hardly twisting! This is only a tad alternate- universe. Okay, he meets Arwen a few years earlier. Big deal! It's not like I said that no orc could ever eat man-flesh or anything severe like that. Sorry, Mr. Tolkien! I'll tell you where you heard beag--I use it. A lot. It's one of my favourite insults. Smeagol made it up, long story, and now we (me, Smeagol, and our friends at school) use it to insult each other). Sorry this new chapter took so long. Writer's block plus physics test (D minus) equals lack of posts.
*****
"Estel. Estel, wake up. Estel wake up!" Someone shook his shoulder, hard. Estel moaned softly and turned over. Birds were singing, and light poured in through the window, penetrating his eyelids. Estel pulled the covers over his head. "Estel, up!" Feanor/Chandra pulled the covers off of him. Estel protested and rolled onto his back to face her.
"What is it? Where am I?" He was completely disoriented.
"You're in Elladan's bed. The boys decided you were too heavy to lug down the hall, apparently. But Estel, you have to listen to me: I can stay here. I can stay in Rivendell!" Feanor/Chandra seemed more excited than Estel though logical. Of course she could stay! "Lord Denethor has left, and his sons will be soon to follow."
Estel rolled out of bed, sorely miscalculated and landed rather painfully on the floor. Feanor/Chandra giggled, then she reached out and pulled him to his feet. "You, dear friend, are not a morning person."
"You didn't have to pull off the covers and throw me off the bed," Estel pointed out.
"Me throw you? That's rich." Something had come over her. Estel could tell. Nothing was held back any longer, no part of her was concealed. He didn't need to protect her anymore. "I'm going to go and say farewell to Faramir. You should go find your brothers, they were looking for you. Something about breakfast." She had hardly finished the word when Estel was bounding out the door. She laughed.
*****
When one sees an object everyday, but lets their glance pass over it, one may often forget the object is there. If, for example, a postcard sat on your desk for ten years, you would become so accustomed to it being there that you might not even notice it. So it was with Feanor/Chandra and the sons of Denethor. So many times had she stood by, watching Boromir bully his little brother, that Boromir hardly noticed her anymore.
Faramir could feel his chest being crushed. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins, propelling him to act, yet he was unable to so much as twitch. Boromir hardly even grinned. He just knelt, watching the air slowly drain out of his brother's lungs. "I don't see, little brother, why you refuse to simply give in. You know I'm stronger than you, and if I want to know, I will." Faramir couldn't even remember what Boromir wanted. His vision was fuzzing over.
Chandra took a step forward, timidly. She had seen this happen tons of times. Yet before she had not been able to do a thing about it. Now it was up to her, Chandra, Feanor, to decide. She could let Faramir suffer, though he had always been there for her and helped her. She could let Boromir win simply for his strength, because he could hurt her as well. Her shoulders heaved as she considered this, knowing well what she had to do. One step, two, and she placed her hands on Boromir's shoulders and drew him to his feet.
"Leave him alone!" she shouted.
"Or you'll what?" Boromir taunted, throwing the girl off. She had been training in combat, at Estel's request and under his tutelage, but she was nowhere near as far along as Boromir was. He easily shoved her against a wall so hard she nearly passed out. "You think freedom means you have worth? Think again."
But Feanor/Chandra's shout had accomplished more than a simple angering of one boy. The twins and Estel had heard the shout, and Estel tore off running. Elrond and Arwen as well had heard, and sought out the commotion. Estel was the only one to reach the room in time to hear Boromir say such things, but only Estel was quite enough. "Hey," he said, tapping Boromir on the shoulder. Boromir turned. Estel punched him in the jaw so hard, Boromir went reeling. "Don't ever, ever talk to my little sister like that again."
"Estel," Elrond began, only having seen Estel hit Boromir.
"No, Ada," Estel said, halting the lecture he knew he was in for. "Sometimes violence is the answer. And sometimes, it is right." He had spoken with such maturity and finality that even Elrond was speechless. Faramir, who had gotten to his feet, wondered if he should applaud Estel or help his brother. Estel crossed the room in five quick strides, helped Feanor/Chandra to her feet, and together the two left the room.
"You called me your sister, Estel," Feanor/Chandra said.
"The heart is what matters, not the blood, Feanor, and call me Aragorn."
"You'd be surprised to learn, then, that you are my brother in blood as well? And my name is Chandra."
*****
Weeks had passed. Chandra had refused to speak again on her relationship to Aragorn, but no matter what was in their blood they developed a close-knit friendship. On one fateful day, the two were working on evening a score with Elladan and Elrohir, a small "accident" with a bucket of milk. . .
"This stuff is pretty thick," Aragorn noted, dipping his fingertip into the black liquid.
"It should be thick, but runny, and not at all grainy. That's good," Chandra said, stirring her own bowl. "This one's done, yours is pretty good, too. Come on then." The two slunk along an upper corridor, then lay belly-down peering through the railing.
Elladan and Elrohir were smiling jovially as the walked along. Their discussion centered around apples, and the nutritional value--plus the sport they were good for. Aragorn and Chandra had to push their hands against their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. All at once the twins were beneath them.
It was too good to be true. Chandra's mixture of crushed charcoal and water, in such meticulous measurements and exact consistencies, was a miracle. The twins dripped black goo, standing stricken and still. "Say, Elladan," Aragorn called down to him, "I don't think that's what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair!" Elladan returned a rather nasty comment.
"I think now we run," Chandra said to Aragorn. "But I am afraid to get lost. Indeed, I did not think this through. Why do not I hide--"
"No, it's running or death," Aragorn said, taking her hand. Together the two ran out, out, and away, Elladan and Elrohir in close pursuit. Tree branches lashed at their faces and roots at their feet. Chandra could not seem to stop laughing.
"Gotcha!" Elrohir exclaimed, sweeping his little brother into his arms. Chandra halted immediately, and was equally caught by Elladan. "What now, Elladan?" The two shared a secret smile, and Elrohir tossed Aragorn into the river. Elladan motioned to copy, but Chandra clutched his arm tightly in fear.
"You can't honestly not know how to swim!" exclaimed Elladan. Chandra turned red. "Well, no worries there." He set her down on the ground, safely. "Now, soon as you learn I am going to throw you into the river. Estel! You have to teach your friend here how to swim!" Aragorn spluttered out of the river.
"Come on, Chandra." He offered his hand. "I'll teach you." She held back. "Trust me, Chandra. I would never hurt you." With a tiny step forward, she grasped his hand. Aragorn resisted the urge to flip her into the river. Instead, he taught her the strokes with the gentle kindness of a brother.
*****
Elrond and Arwen watched the boys and Chandra run off into the woods. Arwen smiled, nostalgic and wistful She remembered when she was that girl, and there was no Estel. Yet those days had gone, as had many in her Elven life. "Ada, Estel. . .has he got a girl?"
"No, of course. . .Arwen?" Elrond asked suspiciously. He had answered automatically, but once the question had processed he wondered at its origins.
"Only a question, Ada," Arwen answered, yet there was more daydream than nostalgia now in her gaze, which glided over the brothers of her blood. 'Maybe, some day,' she told herself.
*****
Hours passed, and the sun was high overhead. Chandra and Aragorn sat on the riverbank, drying off. "When I lived in Gondor," Chandra began quietly, "I was a slave."
"What?" Aragorn immediately sat up. "You did not just say what I heard."
"Indeed, I have said it. I was a slave. I do not see how you can doubt me, you have seen the scars on my back. I was born to a slave woman, and an unknown father. I was a bastard, and scorned by all, save one--Faramir--who would treat me like a human being. He kept me from my death many times. Gondor has anti-slavery laws, but there are ways around them. Basically the law goes that kin are property--daughters having lesser value, I have seen them sold on the black market. Children are used to barter. My own mother was hardly thirteen years old. It's sick, and passed off as an exchange program for education of children--but there is no one to lie to." There was a long silence. Finally, Aragorn answered her.
"Why was Faramir so often there? It is the one thing I do not understand."
"Why? Because his own father owned me. Oh, don't look so disgusted. It is only fitting that I was in a high household, given who my father was. I only learned recently. I would speak to him, but he was slain by orcs before I was even born." She looked off into the distance. Aragorn placed his hand on her shoulder for moral support.
"Mine was slain by orcs as well."
"They were one man."
"That cannot be, you are twelve years old and I am into my sixteenth year." Even with his pathetic math skills, Aragorn could see the flaw in her math. "I was two when my father was slain--"
"Two? Aye, and nay, two and eight months. I am thirteen years old. I do not claim this bloodline, make no mistake. I have no wish for it. It is Lord Elrond who has told me what is in my blood. Do you doubt his word?"
Aragorn could not answer this. Finally, he wrapped Chandra in a hug. "Happy birthday, little sister."
Fool of a Took: I figured Estel needed to loosen up a bit. And there isn't much more to post after this chapter, you demanding little reviewer! Thanks for reading an' all.
Emmithar: U-hauls and pick-ups, you used the phrase "getting hitched" which makes me think of U-hauls and pick-ups. You get to do any evil deeds you want to Boromir, before Smeagol, just after Estel (you will see what I mean in this chapter). I am just hardly twisting! This is only a tad alternate- universe. Okay, he meets Arwen a few years earlier. Big deal! It's not like I said that no orc could ever eat man-flesh or anything severe like that. Sorry, Mr. Tolkien! I'll tell you where you heard beag--I use it. A lot. It's one of my favourite insults. Smeagol made it up, long story, and now we (me, Smeagol, and our friends at school) use it to insult each other). Sorry this new chapter took so long. Writer's block plus physics test (D minus) equals lack of posts.
*****
"Estel. Estel, wake up. Estel wake up!" Someone shook his shoulder, hard. Estel moaned softly and turned over. Birds were singing, and light poured in through the window, penetrating his eyelids. Estel pulled the covers over his head. "Estel, up!" Feanor/Chandra pulled the covers off of him. Estel protested and rolled onto his back to face her.
"What is it? Where am I?" He was completely disoriented.
"You're in Elladan's bed. The boys decided you were too heavy to lug down the hall, apparently. But Estel, you have to listen to me: I can stay here. I can stay in Rivendell!" Feanor/Chandra seemed more excited than Estel though logical. Of course she could stay! "Lord Denethor has left, and his sons will be soon to follow."
Estel rolled out of bed, sorely miscalculated and landed rather painfully on the floor. Feanor/Chandra giggled, then she reached out and pulled him to his feet. "You, dear friend, are not a morning person."
"You didn't have to pull off the covers and throw me off the bed," Estel pointed out.
"Me throw you? That's rich." Something had come over her. Estel could tell. Nothing was held back any longer, no part of her was concealed. He didn't need to protect her anymore. "I'm going to go and say farewell to Faramir. You should go find your brothers, they were looking for you. Something about breakfast." She had hardly finished the word when Estel was bounding out the door. She laughed.
*****
When one sees an object everyday, but lets their glance pass over it, one may often forget the object is there. If, for example, a postcard sat on your desk for ten years, you would become so accustomed to it being there that you might not even notice it. So it was with Feanor/Chandra and the sons of Denethor. So many times had she stood by, watching Boromir bully his little brother, that Boromir hardly noticed her anymore.
Faramir could feel his chest being crushed. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins, propelling him to act, yet he was unable to so much as twitch. Boromir hardly even grinned. He just knelt, watching the air slowly drain out of his brother's lungs. "I don't see, little brother, why you refuse to simply give in. You know I'm stronger than you, and if I want to know, I will." Faramir couldn't even remember what Boromir wanted. His vision was fuzzing over.
Chandra took a step forward, timidly. She had seen this happen tons of times. Yet before she had not been able to do a thing about it. Now it was up to her, Chandra, Feanor, to decide. She could let Faramir suffer, though he had always been there for her and helped her. She could let Boromir win simply for his strength, because he could hurt her as well. Her shoulders heaved as she considered this, knowing well what she had to do. One step, two, and she placed her hands on Boromir's shoulders and drew him to his feet.
"Leave him alone!" she shouted.
"Or you'll what?" Boromir taunted, throwing the girl off. She had been training in combat, at Estel's request and under his tutelage, but she was nowhere near as far along as Boromir was. He easily shoved her against a wall so hard she nearly passed out. "You think freedom means you have worth? Think again."
But Feanor/Chandra's shout had accomplished more than a simple angering of one boy. The twins and Estel had heard the shout, and Estel tore off running. Elrond and Arwen as well had heard, and sought out the commotion. Estel was the only one to reach the room in time to hear Boromir say such things, but only Estel was quite enough. "Hey," he said, tapping Boromir on the shoulder. Boromir turned. Estel punched him in the jaw so hard, Boromir went reeling. "Don't ever, ever talk to my little sister like that again."
"Estel," Elrond began, only having seen Estel hit Boromir.
"No, Ada," Estel said, halting the lecture he knew he was in for. "Sometimes violence is the answer. And sometimes, it is right." He had spoken with such maturity and finality that even Elrond was speechless. Faramir, who had gotten to his feet, wondered if he should applaud Estel or help his brother. Estel crossed the room in five quick strides, helped Feanor/Chandra to her feet, and together the two left the room.
"You called me your sister, Estel," Feanor/Chandra said.
"The heart is what matters, not the blood, Feanor, and call me Aragorn."
"You'd be surprised to learn, then, that you are my brother in blood as well? And my name is Chandra."
*****
Weeks had passed. Chandra had refused to speak again on her relationship to Aragorn, but no matter what was in their blood they developed a close-knit friendship. On one fateful day, the two were working on evening a score with Elladan and Elrohir, a small "accident" with a bucket of milk. . .
"This stuff is pretty thick," Aragorn noted, dipping his fingertip into the black liquid.
"It should be thick, but runny, and not at all grainy. That's good," Chandra said, stirring her own bowl. "This one's done, yours is pretty good, too. Come on then." The two slunk along an upper corridor, then lay belly-down peering through the railing.
Elladan and Elrohir were smiling jovially as the walked along. Their discussion centered around apples, and the nutritional value--plus the sport they were good for. Aragorn and Chandra had to push their hands against their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. All at once the twins were beneath them.
It was too good to be true. Chandra's mixture of crushed charcoal and water, in such meticulous measurements and exact consistencies, was a miracle. The twins dripped black goo, standing stricken and still. "Say, Elladan," Aragorn called down to him, "I don't think that's what Ada meant when he said to wash your hair!" Elladan returned a rather nasty comment.
"I think now we run," Chandra said to Aragorn. "But I am afraid to get lost. Indeed, I did not think this through. Why do not I hide--"
"No, it's running or death," Aragorn said, taking her hand. Together the two ran out, out, and away, Elladan and Elrohir in close pursuit. Tree branches lashed at their faces and roots at their feet. Chandra could not seem to stop laughing.
"Gotcha!" Elrohir exclaimed, sweeping his little brother into his arms. Chandra halted immediately, and was equally caught by Elladan. "What now, Elladan?" The two shared a secret smile, and Elrohir tossed Aragorn into the river. Elladan motioned to copy, but Chandra clutched his arm tightly in fear.
"You can't honestly not know how to swim!" exclaimed Elladan. Chandra turned red. "Well, no worries there." He set her down on the ground, safely. "Now, soon as you learn I am going to throw you into the river. Estel! You have to teach your friend here how to swim!" Aragorn spluttered out of the river.
"Come on, Chandra." He offered his hand. "I'll teach you." She held back. "Trust me, Chandra. I would never hurt you." With a tiny step forward, she grasped his hand. Aragorn resisted the urge to flip her into the river. Instead, he taught her the strokes with the gentle kindness of a brother.
*****
Elrond and Arwen watched the boys and Chandra run off into the woods. Arwen smiled, nostalgic and wistful She remembered when she was that girl, and there was no Estel. Yet those days had gone, as had many in her Elven life. "Ada, Estel. . .has he got a girl?"
"No, of course. . .Arwen?" Elrond asked suspiciously. He had answered automatically, but once the question had processed he wondered at its origins.
"Only a question, Ada," Arwen answered, yet there was more daydream than nostalgia now in her gaze, which glided over the brothers of her blood. 'Maybe, some day,' she told herself.
*****
Hours passed, and the sun was high overhead. Chandra and Aragorn sat on the riverbank, drying off. "When I lived in Gondor," Chandra began quietly, "I was a slave."
"What?" Aragorn immediately sat up. "You did not just say what I heard."
"Indeed, I have said it. I was a slave. I do not see how you can doubt me, you have seen the scars on my back. I was born to a slave woman, and an unknown father. I was a bastard, and scorned by all, save one--Faramir--who would treat me like a human being. He kept me from my death many times. Gondor has anti-slavery laws, but there are ways around them. Basically the law goes that kin are property--daughters having lesser value, I have seen them sold on the black market. Children are used to barter. My own mother was hardly thirteen years old. It's sick, and passed off as an exchange program for education of children--but there is no one to lie to." There was a long silence. Finally, Aragorn answered her.
"Why was Faramir so often there? It is the one thing I do not understand."
"Why? Because his own father owned me. Oh, don't look so disgusted. It is only fitting that I was in a high household, given who my father was. I only learned recently. I would speak to him, but he was slain by orcs before I was even born." She looked off into the distance. Aragorn placed his hand on her shoulder for moral support.
"Mine was slain by orcs as well."
"They were one man."
"That cannot be, you are twelve years old and I am into my sixteenth year." Even with his pathetic math skills, Aragorn could see the flaw in her math. "I was two when my father was slain--"
"Two? Aye, and nay, two and eight months. I am thirteen years old. I do not claim this bloodline, make no mistake. I have no wish for it. It is Lord Elrond who has told me what is in my blood. Do you doubt his word?"
Aragorn could not answer this. Finally, he wrapped Chandra in a hug. "Happy birthday, little sister."