Author's Note - Sorry about Celebrian, guys. I had read about it, knew about it, just forgot when I wrote the chapter. Nevertheless, I have worked my stupidity into the story, and am now giving the twins (well, Elladan) a chance to tell their side of the story.
PS - Oh yeah, hind and roe are other words for deer. Just to let you know. And Estel is aging about, about three years.
Elladan's Hind
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Legolas's lessons with the sword came at strange times, when Estel was least expecting them. As the youngest prince of Mirkwood, Legolas's duties of state took him far from both Mirkwood and Rivendell often, and he came infrequently, though as often as he could, as the next few years passed, and as the seasons came and went, as they ever did. Andune, now very old and barely able to feed himself, flew from the Great House one twilight, and Estel never saw from him again. This sad turn marked the last trace of Arathorn's Aragorn, although Estel himself barely remembered the name, it had been so long ago when he last heard it. Nothing was left for any mortal to mark him by. At a glimpse, with his boyish stature of sixteen summers, he could barely be distinguished from an elf at all.
The only thing that bothered Estel in his sheltered, comfortable life was that as the years passed, he changed very much, and no one else ever did.
Estel took great pride in what Legolas had to teach him, more than any of his other lessons. He took to the sword from the beginning. A bow had always seemed to him an elvish weapon, and his lesser skill with it compared to Legolas and the others, no matter how much he practiced and tried, seemed to be a constant reminder to him of his mortal heritage. It was a reminder he didn't want to think on.
He didn't mind whenever Legolas left Rivendell. Estel needed that time solitary in deep practice. He took his training sword far off into the woods, where none would see him, chopping at falling leaves and shadows. He made sure that Legolas never knew how many long, hard hours he put into practice, swinging the heavy broadsword until his arms spasmed in exhaustion and his hands bled. He snuck away from court often, retreating to the forest to pound the lessons of the blade into his dragging, stupid, mortal muscles. He could not understand how something that Legolas made seem so light and easy could hurt so much, and be so hard to do.
He never forgot Legolas's lessons, not during his whole life. He became a little harder for what had been said, and he put his mortal past to the back of his mind, vowing never to think on it again. His disposition, though still formidable when he was pushed, became tempered by the quiet of the forests, and could rarely be found in the court, and almost always found in the woods.
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Deep in the woods of Rivendell, a lone doe stepped to the bank of a stream, dipping its head to drink delicately, unaware that a predator stalked it from the treetops.
// I am as the stone. I do not breathe. I do not move. The tree blesses my hunt beneath my feet, and its bark does not make noise. The wind lends itself to me, that I may not be scented. //
Estel started to pull the bow back, his movement soft and catlike. But he was suddenly aware that there was a presence behind him. He was not afraid, because only an elf could come up behind him and make no sound.
Elladan's profile came up beside him, gazing down at the deer. Estel was slightly amazed. It was very rare to see his two twin brothers separated, although he had learned from years of living with them that while their faces matched, their personalities were very different. Elrohir was a silver-tongued child of the court, always ready to tell a story or entertain visiting guests, but Elladan preferred music and literature, and was most often found in the library, poring over old texts of indecipherable runic and writing, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he translated them. Elrohir thrived on chaos, while Elladan loved order. But when the two of them got together on a prank, Estel soon found out, they worked as a perfect pair. Elladan always had the intellect to devise a conniving plan, and Elrohir could always be counted on the brazen courage to carry it out.
Yet, no matter how different their interests are, they could hardly be divided. Elladan would often be found suffering through court chatter for the sake of Elrohir, and Elrohir would gaze in boredom out a window as Elladan read. They could not be parted, even if remaining together was tedious.
"Hungry are you, Estel?" he whispered, voice too soft for the deer to hear, and just loud enough for Estel to catch what he said.
"Just hunting," Estel whispered, his eyes never leaving his prey.
"The Eldar do not hunt when we are not hungry, brother, and the cellar is filled to the brim. We have no need of venison."
Estel looked away from the deer to study his brother's face long and hard, his gray eyes piercingly intense. Elladan scowled softly under the inspection. "What? Why are you looking at me that way?"
Estel's gaze was still accusing. "Legolas told me that you kill for sport. You do, don't you? When you go off and hunt the orcs? We have no use for them, they do not dare to come here, but you go out and hunt them anyway. Is that not hunting for sport?"
"He did, did he?" Elladan's face was like stone for a moment, unreadable as he gazed out into the woods, and then he leaned down to the boy.
"Estel, Legolas is a very good friend...but he sometimes speaks when he should keep silent, and especially times when he does not know the truth. Elrohir and I have our reasons for hunting orc, and sport may be one of them, but it's not idle frolic."
"Why do you kill them, then?"
"It is not our place to say, brother," Elladan replied quietly, putting his hand on Estel's shoulder. "Even if it was, the pain and anger of it makes my heart ache, and I have not spoken of it since that day." The elf sighed. "I am not saying to not listen to him. But when you do hear his words, remember that to us, Legolas is still very young...like your age to his. He is still very much a child to us, like you."
Elladan stilled as the deer lifted its head, wide ears listening carefully, then he pointed at it, looking earnestly into Estel's face. "See that roe, Estel? Legolas is like that roe. He would walk up to the hunter with love and trust in his eyes, because he believes the hunter will not hurt him. And Legolas tries to see the good in all things. He has faith in them. It is a defiance of his father, who holds wary suspicion in all things and towards all creatures."
"But what do you think would happen to that roe if it stepped outside the borders of our realm, Estel?"
Estel looked down at the doe, which was grazing delicately. "It'd be killed."
"That's right, Estel. It'd be killed. It would be killed for its own misguided trust. So I ask you, Estel, to take care of Legolas, when you're strong enough. He is wise and strong himself, but don't forget he is like the deer, easily killed for his love of other creatures, and his unwillingness to see fault in them. Always protect anyone who has that innocence, Estel...and especially those who are smaller than you, meeker, who cannot protect themselves."
The dark-haired elf scowled, then continued. "Legolas believes that there_is_good in all things, Estel, but I believe he's wrong. Legolas hunts yrch when they get too close to his court, when they stray too far from Dol Guldur, and that is all. Even a buck will show its antlers, when it must defend itself. He's a great warrior, but he sometimes rides the line between assassin and politician. He'd rather treat with the orcs than fight, if he thought he could. He is too smart to think he can, but he hates that there is no better solution than slaughter. He values peace in the forests."
Elladan looked back out at the deer. "But I believe that they are evil creatures, Estel. Pure, undiluted evil. Anything that laughs as it kills or tortures innocents is so, I say. They are so dark, even the fair Sun shuns them, she who would gladly shine down on all things."
He glanced down at Estel, finding the boy listening to him seriously, and nodded. "All I am saying is that Legolas cannot bear to see absolute corruption in something. He has always been afraid of it, ever since he was a child. So take his advice lightly on such things, because he says we have not seen the full extent of them, and he's wrong. We have seen more evil in yrchs' dark places than even you, Estel. I dare to say his counsel is good, brother, but I can promise ours is better."
The dark-haired elf smiled a little, and clapped Estel on the shoulder softly. "Come on home and wash up. Get ready for the banquet."
"Banquet?" Estel asked, scowling a little. "There's a banquet?"
Elladan laughed, and the deer was frightened away. "Not just any banquet, Estel. It is your birthday, did you not remember? If you spent just a little more time in court and a little less time communing with the trees and earth, you might have recalled it."
He leapt out of the tree.
"Do not forget, Estel! Arwen is arriving from Lothlorien tonight!"
// Arwen? //
In all his years at Imladris, he had never met his father's daughter. She had been visiting off at Lothlorien for the last ten years, a long time in the life of a mortal, a very short visit in the life of an elf.
Elladan went back towards the Great House, leaving Estel to his own solemn thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Review! This chapter was shorter, but what I want to do in the next one has to be separate!
PS - Oh yeah, hind and roe are other words for deer. Just to let you know. And Estel is aging about, about three years.
Elladan's Hind
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legolas's lessons with the sword came at strange times, when Estel was least expecting them. As the youngest prince of Mirkwood, Legolas's duties of state took him far from both Mirkwood and Rivendell often, and he came infrequently, though as often as he could, as the next few years passed, and as the seasons came and went, as they ever did. Andune, now very old and barely able to feed himself, flew from the Great House one twilight, and Estel never saw from him again. This sad turn marked the last trace of Arathorn's Aragorn, although Estel himself barely remembered the name, it had been so long ago when he last heard it. Nothing was left for any mortal to mark him by. At a glimpse, with his boyish stature of sixteen summers, he could barely be distinguished from an elf at all.
The only thing that bothered Estel in his sheltered, comfortable life was that as the years passed, he changed very much, and no one else ever did.
Estel took great pride in what Legolas had to teach him, more than any of his other lessons. He took to the sword from the beginning. A bow had always seemed to him an elvish weapon, and his lesser skill with it compared to Legolas and the others, no matter how much he practiced and tried, seemed to be a constant reminder to him of his mortal heritage. It was a reminder he didn't want to think on.
He didn't mind whenever Legolas left Rivendell. Estel needed that time solitary in deep practice. He took his training sword far off into the woods, where none would see him, chopping at falling leaves and shadows. He made sure that Legolas never knew how many long, hard hours he put into practice, swinging the heavy broadsword until his arms spasmed in exhaustion and his hands bled. He snuck away from court often, retreating to the forest to pound the lessons of the blade into his dragging, stupid, mortal muscles. He could not understand how something that Legolas made seem so light and easy could hurt so much, and be so hard to do.
He never forgot Legolas's lessons, not during his whole life. He became a little harder for what had been said, and he put his mortal past to the back of his mind, vowing never to think on it again. His disposition, though still formidable when he was pushed, became tempered by the quiet of the forests, and could rarely be found in the court, and almost always found in the woods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deep in the woods of Rivendell, a lone doe stepped to the bank of a stream, dipping its head to drink delicately, unaware that a predator stalked it from the treetops.
// I am as the stone. I do not breathe. I do not move. The tree blesses my hunt beneath my feet, and its bark does not make noise. The wind lends itself to me, that I may not be scented. //
Estel started to pull the bow back, his movement soft and catlike. But he was suddenly aware that there was a presence behind him. He was not afraid, because only an elf could come up behind him and make no sound.
Elladan's profile came up beside him, gazing down at the deer. Estel was slightly amazed. It was very rare to see his two twin brothers separated, although he had learned from years of living with them that while their faces matched, their personalities were very different. Elrohir was a silver-tongued child of the court, always ready to tell a story or entertain visiting guests, but Elladan preferred music and literature, and was most often found in the library, poring over old texts of indecipherable runic and writing, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he translated them. Elrohir thrived on chaos, while Elladan loved order. But when the two of them got together on a prank, Estel soon found out, they worked as a perfect pair. Elladan always had the intellect to devise a conniving plan, and Elrohir could always be counted on the brazen courage to carry it out.
Yet, no matter how different their interests are, they could hardly be divided. Elladan would often be found suffering through court chatter for the sake of Elrohir, and Elrohir would gaze in boredom out a window as Elladan read. They could not be parted, even if remaining together was tedious.
"Hungry are you, Estel?" he whispered, voice too soft for the deer to hear, and just loud enough for Estel to catch what he said.
"Just hunting," Estel whispered, his eyes never leaving his prey.
"The Eldar do not hunt when we are not hungry, brother, and the cellar is filled to the brim. We have no need of venison."
Estel looked away from the deer to study his brother's face long and hard, his gray eyes piercingly intense. Elladan scowled softly under the inspection. "What? Why are you looking at me that way?"
Estel's gaze was still accusing. "Legolas told me that you kill for sport. You do, don't you? When you go off and hunt the orcs? We have no use for them, they do not dare to come here, but you go out and hunt them anyway. Is that not hunting for sport?"
"He did, did he?" Elladan's face was like stone for a moment, unreadable as he gazed out into the woods, and then he leaned down to the boy.
"Estel, Legolas is a very good friend...but he sometimes speaks when he should keep silent, and especially times when he does not know the truth. Elrohir and I have our reasons for hunting orc, and sport may be one of them, but it's not idle frolic."
"Why do you kill them, then?"
"It is not our place to say, brother," Elladan replied quietly, putting his hand on Estel's shoulder. "Even if it was, the pain and anger of it makes my heart ache, and I have not spoken of it since that day." The elf sighed. "I am not saying to not listen to him. But when you do hear his words, remember that to us, Legolas is still very young...like your age to his. He is still very much a child to us, like you."
Elladan stilled as the deer lifted its head, wide ears listening carefully, then he pointed at it, looking earnestly into Estel's face. "See that roe, Estel? Legolas is like that roe. He would walk up to the hunter with love and trust in his eyes, because he believes the hunter will not hurt him. And Legolas tries to see the good in all things. He has faith in them. It is a defiance of his father, who holds wary suspicion in all things and towards all creatures."
"But what do you think would happen to that roe if it stepped outside the borders of our realm, Estel?"
Estel looked down at the doe, which was grazing delicately. "It'd be killed."
"That's right, Estel. It'd be killed. It would be killed for its own misguided trust. So I ask you, Estel, to take care of Legolas, when you're strong enough. He is wise and strong himself, but don't forget he is like the deer, easily killed for his love of other creatures, and his unwillingness to see fault in them. Always protect anyone who has that innocence, Estel...and especially those who are smaller than you, meeker, who cannot protect themselves."
The dark-haired elf scowled, then continued. "Legolas believes that there_is_good in all things, Estel, but I believe he's wrong. Legolas hunts yrch when they get too close to his court, when they stray too far from Dol Guldur, and that is all. Even a buck will show its antlers, when it must defend itself. He's a great warrior, but he sometimes rides the line between assassin and politician. He'd rather treat with the orcs than fight, if he thought he could. He is too smart to think he can, but he hates that there is no better solution than slaughter. He values peace in the forests."
Elladan looked back out at the deer. "But I believe that they are evil creatures, Estel. Pure, undiluted evil. Anything that laughs as it kills or tortures innocents is so, I say. They are so dark, even the fair Sun shuns them, she who would gladly shine down on all things."
He glanced down at Estel, finding the boy listening to him seriously, and nodded. "All I am saying is that Legolas cannot bear to see absolute corruption in something. He has always been afraid of it, ever since he was a child. So take his advice lightly on such things, because he says we have not seen the full extent of them, and he's wrong. We have seen more evil in yrchs' dark places than even you, Estel. I dare to say his counsel is good, brother, but I can promise ours is better."
The dark-haired elf smiled a little, and clapped Estel on the shoulder softly. "Come on home and wash up. Get ready for the banquet."
"Banquet?" Estel asked, scowling a little. "There's a banquet?"
Elladan laughed, and the deer was frightened away. "Not just any banquet, Estel. It is your birthday, did you not remember? If you spent just a little more time in court and a little less time communing with the trees and earth, you might have recalled it."
He leapt out of the tree.
"Do not forget, Estel! Arwen is arriving from Lothlorien tonight!"
// Arwen? //
In all his years at Imladris, he had never met his father's daughter. She had been visiting off at Lothlorien for the last ten years, a long time in the life of a mortal, a very short visit in the life of an elf.
Elladan went back towards the Great House, leaving Estel to his own solemn thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Review! This chapter was shorter, but what I want to do in the next one has to be separate!