It was raining. In fact it was more than raining. It was pouring.
The morning had been cold and grey. Gilraen, who had just got up, had sighed in dismay when she had seen the weather. For Estel had been inside for several days now, and was getting fretful. He had no cloak, and Gilraen did not like to ask anything else of her hosts. But the prospect of occupying the child indoors for another day was enough to make her groan.
Things were much better now. Most things breakable or sharp had been removed from the sitting room. After repeated warnings Elladan had stopped leaving his sword on the dining room table. A soft rug had been placed in front of the fire where Estel could play, and a large box had been found to contain some brightly painted wooden blocks, a large cloth ball, toy wooden swords and numerous other toys suitable for one so small.
However, as hard as she found it to admit, Estel was missing some company. And it wasn't that of his father so much as Elrond's sons.
Both had busy schedules on normal days in Imladris. However Elrohir usually found time to leave the library in the afternoon to come and see Estel after his nap. Often Gilraen would wake from her afternoon rest to find Elrohir sitting on the small bed that Estel slept in with the child curled up in his lap and a picture book in hand.
Both elves spent the morning training with the other guards and soldiers. Once Gilraen had taken Estel for a walk and they had passed a training ground. It had taken a while to prise the spellbound Estel away from watching a line of archers shoot at Elladan's command. In fact Estel had run around the house mimicking him for days afterwards. This had been wearing on everyone's nerves and had only stopped when Elladan had insisted that the boy was not allowed to give orders because he didn't have one of the soldier's cloaks. Estel had immediately tried to wear Elladan's but had been unable to move under its weight. The cloaks were made of a very thick dark grey wool and were designed to keep the weather out. They were as a result extremely heavy. Something Elladan had known.
In the afternoons Elrohir would retire to the library to assist his father in the running of Imladris. Elladan's role involved organisation of the guards, watches and armies that protected Imladris. This allowed him to spend as much time outside as possible, and having seen the amount he fidgeted when required to be seated during an evening in the Hall of Fire, Gilraen thought it suited him well.
However Elladan had usually returned home by the evening and after Estel had eaten his supper would usually sit with him playing some game with the soldiers, or would roll around on the floor indulging in some rough and tumble. At first Gilraen had been afraid that the amount of laughter and squeals that this game generated would disturb Elrond and Elrohir who usually joined them before changing for the evening meal, however they did not seem to mind and over time she had relaxed.
At the moment though Estel was without his brothers. Elladan and Elrohir had ridden out with several other elves a week before. They had been due to return yesterday, and having heard this Estel had begun beaming whenever there was a noise outside the sitting room. Gilraen had borne him off to bed in tears because they had not come back. She hoped that they would return soon.
~*~
At breakfast Elrond had noticed the little face smeared with egg yolk was rather woebegone.
"And what ails you little one?" he asked kindly, smoothing down the tufts of dark hair.
"'Ro?" Estel asked hopefully. It was odd, Elrond reflected that the child had independently come up with Elrohir's childhood nickname.
"He misses. . ." Gilraen paused for the right word, "his brothers. When will they return?"
Elrond paused, wondering what the young mother would think if he admitted he had little idea of where his sons were, and even less of an idea of when they would return.
"Soon enough," Elrond said vaguely, "They usually return within two weeks".
Gilraen sighed as Estel's lip began to quiver. Elrond observed the two calmly; Gilraen looked rather stretched as well she might at the prospect of two weeks of occupying the boy single-handedly, Estel looked as though his word had ended.
"Would you like to spend the morning with me child?" Elrond asked. Glorfindel had hinted at worrying reports of orc sightings, but he was sure there would be time enough to supervise the boy.
Gilraen accepted gratefully pleased to have some time to herself.
~*~
They met up again for the midday meal. Although Elrond had enjoyed eating with his advisors in the formal surroundings of the Imladris dining hall it had been pleasant to move back into the routine of family meals. All that was missing was his wife's smile and hug when he had entered the room. But that would not be coming back.
"Mummy," Estel toddled forwards, letting go of Elrond's hand. He was holding a large sheet of paper scribbled on with brightly coloured crayons, "For you."
"Ammë," Elrond interjected softly. The child would have to learn elvish. Although most of the elves in Imladris were fluent in the Common Speech there was no need for the boy to draw attention to himself.
Estel looked up, eyes wide.
"Ammë," Gilraen was handed the paper and a small finger pointed out different squiggles, "You, Daddy, 'Ro, El'dan, Elrond."
Gilraen almost sighed with relief that Arathorn still featured in his son's drawings. She had become afraid that he had already forgotten his father.
~*~
The afternoon had passed easily enough with a nap, story and games with bricks. Outside the window the wind had picked up from a light breeze to a gale that sent the branches of the trees thrashing around. The rain that had begun as light drizzle mid-morning had developed into a downpour, steadily drumming on the roof.
After giving Estel a warm and very splashy bath, helping him into a nightgown and brushing his damp hair Gilraen tucked him into bed and went to sit in the sitting room. Elrond was in there reading.
"He is asleep then?" he had been pleased to see her brighter eyes that afternoon, and she still appeared well. He hoped she was not suffering too much from her husband's death.
Gilraen nodded.
"He is quite tired out," then feeling some other comment was needed, "He enjoyed his colouring."
Elrond looked pleased.
"Good."
They sat in a comfortable silence awhile. Gilraen looked out of the window into the storm outside. The wind was howling in the dark and sheets of rain and hail were crashing against the window. She wondered how he could know his sons were out in such weather and still appear to be reading so calmly.
"Do you not have concern for your sons?" Gilraen asked at last, hoping she didn't sound as shocked as she thought she did.
Elrond smiled grimly at the tone of her voice.
"It is a foul night for them to ride indeed. However I trust that they will be safe."
Gilraen didn't look convinced. There would be no shelter had against this storm in the wild.
"They are both good horsemen. Elladan is a fine captain."
A sudden flash lit up the sky followed seconds later by a huge roar. There was a sound of a door being flung open and tiny feet pelting along the passageway. Estel burst into the room his eyes wide with fear and flung himself at his mother, burying himself in her robes.
Elrond watched; his heart melting for the boy as Gilraen comforted Estel who was shaking violently.
"You are safe. You are safe." Gilraen said calmly and soothingly rubbing the child's back.
An elf looked in, about to summon the two to dinner, but Elrond shook his head and indicated that they would eat in here. It would be cruel to leave any child alone when they were that frightened.
~*~
Eventually Estel was calmed enough to sit sleepily on his mother's lap, moving closer whenever another roll of thunder sounded. The storm was directly overhead and the flashes of lightening were illuminating the whole room. Elrond and Gilraen tried to resume a normal conversation whilst tucking into the delicious food provided in ample quantities by the kitchen staff.
The thunder was so loud that they did not hear the commotion in the yard, and had no idea that the hunters had returned until the door opened and two wet elves entered.
They were more than wet. Elrond had never seen his sons look so bedraggled and he had taken them swimming many a time. Their hair was plastered to their heads and faces, and water ran in little streams down their bodies to a growing pool under their feet. Elrohir was thoughtfully carrying his boots but Elladan's feet squelched as he moved.
"Good evening father," Elladan said brightly as he noticed Elrond observing them coolly. "Why," Elrond asked at length, "Are you wandering around Imladris dressed like that?" For both elves were dressed only in their undershirts and the leggings they wore under their riding trousers. These were soaked and clung to their bodies. Each was carrying an armful of sodden clothing.
"We were cold and wet, father. And we needed to see to the horses first." Elrohir flushed, ashamed of himself. It was almost unheard of for any elf to venture outside their room without the proper attire. The hunters had just marched through some of the busiest halls in little more than their underclothes.
Elrond looked disapproving. He had a feeling he knew who had initiated this disgraceful behaviour.
"Elladan?" Elrond turned to his eldest, who was grinning wickedly whilst picking food off the table.
"Oh Ada!" It had been Elladan's idea of course, Elrohir agreeing rather more reluctantly than the rest. They had all been soaked to the skin, even their cloaks being little protection against the driving rain. The stables had been warm, but the weight of the cold sodden clothing had been oppressive, turning even the smallest task into an effort. He had wanted to strip down to only his underclothes but Elrohir had objected. "Our clothes were too wet to move in!"
Elrond looked unconvinced. Elladan strode over, dumping the armful of cloak, tunic, shirt, trousers and chain mail shirt in his father's arms. Elrond nearly stumbled under the weight. The drenched cloak alone weighed more than most elves would be able to bear.
Estel, awakening at the sound of voices, sat up and blinked twice. His face broke into a delighted smile at the site of his brothers and he dropped off his mother's lap, racing towards the twins.
Elladan picked him up and threw him up into the air and caught him.
"Wheeeee!" shouted the captain of the hunters.
Elrohir burst out laughing handing his already overburdened father his clothes. Estel had a way of turning Elladan back into Elladan very quickly.
~*~
When Elrond returned from depositing the clothing in the laundry room, his three sons were sprawled on the rug, drying off in front of the fire. Elrohir had put their boots to dry near the hearth and was sitting with his back to the warmth, rocking back and forwards with laughter.
Elladan was lying on the rug, his knees bent up in the air. Estel was perched atop the knees, the tails of the drying undershirt gripped firmly in his hands.
"Go go horsey!" Estel called happily tugging at his 'reins'.
Gilraen watched in barely suppressed mirth as Elladan reached up to hold the little boy steady as he moved his knees back and forth to simulate galloping.
Estel shrieked with laughter, drumming his heels gently against Elladan's thighs to make him speed up. The tips of his toes ran over the exposed stomach.
"No no that tickles!" Elladan broke up into laughter trying to catch hold of the tiny feet.
Estel, sensing his advantage, lent forwards and wriggled his toes. Elladan was left in uncontrollable giggles.
"No Estel! Stop!" Elladan cried out trying to stop his laughter.
Estel looked at him suddenly as if he was afraid he had made him angry. Elladan grinned in relief, he was free.
"Tickle him Estel! Get him!" Elladan's treacherous brother called, crawling over to join in the attack.
Elladan groaned as Estel tipped onto his stomach to tickle him, all too happily aided by Elrohir's long fingers. Soon all three were rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter, alternately tickling and being tickled.
Elrond laughed in spite of himself. He had not heard his sons laugh so freely in centuries.
He did love them.
Even if they were behaving in a manner fit to the most immature of elflings.
The morning had been cold and grey. Gilraen, who had just got up, had sighed in dismay when she had seen the weather. For Estel had been inside for several days now, and was getting fretful. He had no cloak, and Gilraen did not like to ask anything else of her hosts. But the prospect of occupying the child indoors for another day was enough to make her groan.
Things were much better now. Most things breakable or sharp had been removed from the sitting room. After repeated warnings Elladan had stopped leaving his sword on the dining room table. A soft rug had been placed in front of the fire where Estel could play, and a large box had been found to contain some brightly painted wooden blocks, a large cloth ball, toy wooden swords and numerous other toys suitable for one so small.
However, as hard as she found it to admit, Estel was missing some company. And it wasn't that of his father so much as Elrond's sons.
Both had busy schedules on normal days in Imladris. However Elrohir usually found time to leave the library in the afternoon to come and see Estel after his nap. Often Gilraen would wake from her afternoon rest to find Elrohir sitting on the small bed that Estel slept in with the child curled up in his lap and a picture book in hand.
Both elves spent the morning training with the other guards and soldiers. Once Gilraen had taken Estel for a walk and they had passed a training ground. It had taken a while to prise the spellbound Estel away from watching a line of archers shoot at Elladan's command. In fact Estel had run around the house mimicking him for days afterwards. This had been wearing on everyone's nerves and had only stopped when Elladan had insisted that the boy was not allowed to give orders because he didn't have one of the soldier's cloaks. Estel had immediately tried to wear Elladan's but had been unable to move under its weight. The cloaks were made of a very thick dark grey wool and were designed to keep the weather out. They were as a result extremely heavy. Something Elladan had known.
In the afternoons Elrohir would retire to the library to assist his father in the running of Imladris. Elladan's role involved organisation of the guards, watches and armies that protected Imladris. This allowed him to spend as much time outside as possible, and having seen the amount he fidgeted when required to be seated during an evening in the Hall of Fire, Gilraen thought it suited him well.
However Elladan had usually returned home by the evening and after Estel had eaten his supper would usually sit with him playing some game with the soldiers, or would roll around on the floor indulging in some rough and tumble. At first Gilraen had been afraid that the amount of laughter and squeals that this game generated would disturb Elrond and Elrohir who usually joined them before changing for the evening meal, however they did not seem to mind and over time she had relaxed.
At the moment though Estel was without his brothers. Elladan and Elrohir had ridden out with several other elves a week before. They had been due to return yesterday, and having heard this Estel had begun beaming whenever there was a noise outside the sitting room. Gilraen had borne him off to bed in tears because they had not come back. She hoped that they would return soon.
~*~
At breakfast Elrond had noticed the little face smeared with egg yolk was rather woebegone.
"And what ails you little one?" he asked kindly, smoothing down the tufts of dark hair.
"'Ro?" Estel asked hopefully. It was odd, Elrond reflected that the child had independently come up with Elrohir's childhood nickname.
"He misses. . ." Gilraen paused for the right word, "his brothers. When will they return?"
Elrond paused, wondering what the young mother would think if he admitted he had little idea of where his sons were, and even less of an idea of when they would return.
"Soon enough," Elrond said vaguely, "They usually return within two weeks".
Gilraen sighed as Estel's lip began to quiver. Elrond observed the two calmly; Gilraen looked rather stretched as well she might at the prospect of two weeks of occupying the boy single-handedly, Estel looked as though his word had ended.
"Would you like to spend the morning with me child?" Elrond asked. Glorfindel had hinted at worrying reports of orc sightings, but he was sure there would be time enough to supervise the boy.
Gilraen accepted gratefully pleased to have some time to herself.
~*~
They met up again for the midday meal. Although Elrond had enjoyed eating with his advisors in the formal surroundings of the Imladris dining hall it had been pleasant to move back into the routine of family meals. All that was missing was his wife's smile and hug when he had entered the room. But that would not be coming back.
"Mummy," Estel toddled forwards, letting go of Elrond's hand. He was holding a large sheet of paper scribbled on with brightly coloured crayons, "For you."
"Ammë," Elrond interjected softly. The child would have to learn elvish. Although most of the elves in Imladris were fluent in the Common Speech there was no need for the boy to draw attention to himself.
Estel looked up, eyes wide.
"Ammë," Gilraen was handed the paper and a small finger pointed out different squiggles, "You, Daddy, 'Ro, El'dan, Elrond."
Gilraen almost sighed with relief that Arathorn still featured in his son's drawings. She had become afraid that he had already forgotten his father.
~*~
The afternoon had passed easily enough with a nap, story and games with bricks. Outside the window the wind had picked up from a light breeze to a gale that sent the branches of the trees thrashing around. The rain that had begun as light drizzle mid-morning had developed into a downpour, steadily drumming on the roof.
After giving Estel a warm and very splashy bath, helping him into a nightgown and brushing his damp hair Gilraen tucked him into bed and went to sit in the sitting room. Elrond was in there reading.
"He is asleep then?" he had been pleased to see her brighter eyes that afternoon, and she still appeared well. He hoped she was not suffering too much from her husband's death.
Gilraen nodded.
"He is quite tired out," then feeling some other comment was needed, "He enjoyed his colouring."
Elrond looked pleased.
"Good."
They sat in a comfortable silence awhile. Gilraen looked out of the window into the storm outside. The wind was howling in the dark and sheets of rain and hail were crashing against the window. She wondered how he could know his sons were out in such weather and still appear to be reading so calmly.
"Do you not have concern for your sons?" Gilraen asked at last, hoping she didn't sound as shocked as she thought she did.
Elrond smiled grimly at the tone of her voice.
"It is a foul night for them to ride indeed. However I trust that they will be safe."
Gilraen didn't look convinced. There would be no shelter had against this storm in the wild.
"They are both good horsemen. Elladan is a fine captain."
A sudden flash lit up the sky followed seconds later by a huge roar. There was a sound of a door being flung open and tiny feet pelting along the passageway. Estel burst into the room his eyes wide with fear and flung himself at his mother, burying himself in her robes.
Elrond watched; his heart melting for the boy as Gilraen comforted Estel who was shaking violently.
"You are safe. You are safe." Gilraen said calmly and soothingly rubbing the child's back.
An elf looked in, about to summon the two to dinner, but Elrond shook his head and indicated that they would eat in here. It would be cruel to leave any child alone when they were that frightened.
~*~
Eventually Estel was calmed enough to sit sleepily on his mother's lap, moving closer whenever another roll of thunder sounded. The storm was directly overhead and the flashes of lightening were illuminating the whole room. Elrond and Gilraen tried to resume a normal conversation whilst tucking into the delicious food provided in ample quantities by the kitchen staff.
The thunder was so loud that they did not hear the commotion in the yard, and had no idea that the hunters had returned until the door opened and two wet elves entered.
They were more than wet. Elrond had never seen his sons look so bedraggled and he had taken them swimming many a time. Their hair was plastered to their heads and faces, and water ran in little streams down their bodies to a growing pool under their feet. Elrohir was thoughtfully carrying his boots but Elladan's feet squelched as he moved.
"Good evening father," Elladan said brightly as he noticed Elrond observing them coolly. "Why," Elrond asked at length, "Are you wandering around Imladris dressed like that?" For both elves were dressed only in their undershirts and the leggings they wore under their riding trousers. These were soaked and clung to their bodies. Each was carrying an armful of sodden clothing.
"We were cold and wet, father. And we needed to see to the horses first." Elrohir flushed, ashamed of himself. It was almost unheard of for any elf to venture outside their room without the proper attire. The hunters had just marched through some of the busiest halls in little more than their underclothes.
Elrond looked disapproving. He had a feeling he knew who had initiated this disgraceful behaviour.
"Elladan?" Elrond turned to his eldest, who was grinning wickedly whilst picking food off the table.
"Oh Ada!" It had been Elladan's idea of course, Elrohir agreeing rather more reluctantly than the rest. They had all been soaked to the skin, even their cloaks being little protection against the driving rain. The stables had been warm, but the weight of the cold sodden clothing had been oppressive, turning even the smallest task into an effort. He had wanted to strip down to only his underclothes but Elrohir had objected. "Our clothes were too wet to move in!"
Elrond looked unconvinced. Elladan strode over, dumping the armful of cloak, tunic, shirt, trousers and chain mail shirt in his father's arms. Elrond nearly stumbled under the weight. The drenched cloak alone weighed more than most elves would be able to bear.
Estel, awakening at the sound of voices, sat up and blinked twice. His face broke into a delighted smile at the site of his brothers and he dropped off his mother's lap, racing towards the twins.
Elladan picked him up and threw him up into the air and caught him.
"Wheeeee!" shouted the captain of the hunters.
Elrohir burst out laughing handing his already overburdened father his clothes. Estel had a way of turning Elladan back into Elladan very quickly.
~*~
When Elrond returned from depositing the clothing in the laundry room, his three sons were sprawled on the rug, drying off in front of the fire. Elrohir had put their boots to dry near the hearth and was sitting with his back to the warmth, rocking back and forwards with laughter.
Elladan was lying on the rug, his knees bent up in the air. Estel was perched atop the knees, the tails of the drying undershirt gripped firmly in his hands.
"Go go horsey!" Estel called happily tugging at his 'reins'.
Gilraen watched in barely suppressed mirth as Elladan reached up to hold the little boy steady as he moved his knees back and forth to simulate galloping.
Estel shrieked with laughter, drumming his heels gently against Elladan's thighs to make him speed up. The tips of his toes ran over the exposed stomach.
"No no that tickles!" Elladan broke up into laughter trying to catch hold of the tiny feet.
Estel, sensing his advantage, lent forwards and wriggled his toes. Elladan was left in uncontrollable giggles.
"No Estel! Stop!" Elladan cried out trying to stop his laughter.
Estel looked at him suddenly as if he was afraid he had made him angry. Elladan grinned in relief, he was free.
"Tickle him Estel! Get him!" Elladan's treacherous brother called, crawling over to join in the attack.
Elladan groaned as Estel tipped onto his stomach to tickle him, all too happily aided by Elrohir's long fingers. Soon all three were rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter, alternately tickling and being tickled.
Elrond laughed in spite of himself. He had not heard his sons laugh so freely in centuries.
He did love them.
Even if they were behaving in a manner fit to the most immature of elflings.