DISCLAIMER: See Prologue.
SPECIAL MENTIONS: Thanks to my kind reviewers: hobbitsrfun, Lady Mercury, arabella thorne and aragog. Cheers, and keep 'em coiming!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As the summary states, this story is AU. I know that, in Middle Earth, when an elf dies, their soul goes to the Halls of Mandos. However, I have changed that ever so slightly, so it fits in with this story. I just felt the need to mention this before the flames start coming in, complaining that I ought to "get my facts right".
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER TWO: THE GIRL ACROSS THE LAKE
Gilraen smiled softly at the sleeping child huddled beneath a mountain of blankets. She brushed a stray hair from his face, sighing. He was the image of his late father, her beloved Arathorn: the same dark hair, the same brooding sea-grey eyes. She bent, and kissed her son's cheek.
A soft knock drew Gilraen out of her reverie. "Come in."
Elrond slipped silently into the room, his teal robes swaying in the slight autumn breeze. He carefully closed the door, and leaned against the wall, eyeing mother and child. Gilraen tore her gaze from the sleeping form and turned to the elf-lord who had taken in her and her infant son.
"Has his fever abated?" Elrond asked. The only response he received was a nod. "Something troubles you, Gilraen. I can sense it..."
"My son is ill!" She snapped. "How else do you expect me to feel?" She rose from her chair, her lip trembling. "He is hallucinating, Elrond! Surely something is seriously wrong with him!"
Elrond sighed. He had sat up in his study all night, thinking about his treatment of the boy. Perhaps he had overreacted. At the very least, he could have seen the child to bed. But he had allowed anger to break through his normally indifferent aura, and had taken it out on an ill child, who needed affection, not scoldings. 'Even elf-lords make mistakes,' he thought ruefully. 'When Estel awakes, I will make it up to him for my behaviour last night.'
"Perhaps he just has an overactive imagination. After all, most children invent stories or have imaginary friends. Estel is probably going through one of those phases. I would not worry myself, Gilraen. He will be fine."
The woman nodded. Elrond lay a hand on her shoulder. "Go back to your chamber. I will sit with him for the rest of the day."
Estel groaned in his sleep, thrashing violently at some apparition in his dreams. Elrond pulled away one of the bedcovers, and sought the boy's hand. Lacing the small (and dirty, he noted with a raised brow) fingers through his own, he murmured an elven chant to banish nightmares. The child flailed one last time before sinking into a peaceful repose.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"But there was a girl, honest!" Estel pressed. "Amme, I'm not lying! I'm not!"
Gilraen shook her head. "Stop making things up! You were probably dreaming. There is no little girl in Rivendell."
Seeing no hope in his attempt to convince his mother, the boy turned to Elrond. "Ada, you believe me!"
The elf-lord beckoned the child up from where he was kneeling on the sitting room rug, and perched the boy in his lap. "Estel, I want you to listen to me: you were ill that night. The girl was not, and is not, real. She is just a figment of your imagination. Fever does that to a person: makes them see things that are not there."
"But she spoke to me!"
"Sight is not the sense that is distorted by fever, Estel."
The child stared at Elrond, confusion evident in his grey eyes. "What does distorted mean?"
The elf-lord sighed. He kept forgetting that it was necessary to use simpler words around the child, instead of delving into his vast vocabulary. "It means that your other senses are affected too. So you may hear things as well as see things."
The boy folded his arms across his chest in a measure of defiance. "I know that what I saw was real. She was real! Please Ada," Tears welled up in child's eyes. "I'm not lying!"
Elrond sighed, deciding to end this debate now before it became any more heated. He motioned Estel closer. "Run along outside and pick some flowers for your mother. I think she would like that."
Argument temporarily forgotten, the young human leapt off his foster- father's lap and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Golden autumn melted into frosty winter. As with most winters, comes...
"Snow!" Estel cried happily, bouncing up and down on his father's sleeping form. "Ada, wake up! Snow!"
The elf lord groaned, and tried to manoeuvre himself out of bed, a task that was hindered greatly by the overexcited child who was at present trampling Elrond in his hyperactive state. With one final leap, he landed heavily on Elrond's stomach, forcing the air from the elf's lungs.
Elrond gently pushed the child off his body and onto the soft mattress. "Calm down Estel!" He gasped. "If you keep this up, you will rip your night- shirt, and I doubt that will please you mother."
"But, Ada! It's snowing!"
The elf lord rubbed his eyes to adjust his bleary vision to the light. "Lovely," he muttered. "Go and tell your mother."
"Amme!" Estel cried, bolting out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Elrond collapsed on the bed, his eyes glazing over as he drifted back into the throes of slumber. For at least an hour, he lay in peaceful, untroubled sleep, oblivious to the outside world.
Then, he sat bolt upright. The lake!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After Gilraen had ensured that he was sufficiently wrapped up against the cold, despite her son's protests that three woollen tunics was slightly overboard, Estel raced down the corridor, assuring his mother that he would wear gloves and not get into another snowball fight with any of the older elves, especially after what happened last year. Glorfindel had attempted to amuse the child by participating in this game, only to suffer a broken leg when he fell down the stairs after his young charge had brought a snowball into the house and thrown it at the blond elf in a temper.
Skipping happily down the path, Estel began to sing one of the songs Erestor had taught him, the 'Fall of Gil-Galad'. Despite his tutor's assumptions, the child did pay attention during some lessons, usually the ones involving stories (or histories, as Erestor called them) about battles.
The path from the House led to his Ada's garden. Still singing, Estel swung open the silver gate, (having been punished too many times by clambering up the marble wall) and entered the garden. Normally so lush and full of greenery, now bare, save for the holly tree in the centre.
"Hello, Estel!" Lindir greeted, appearing from behind the child.
He grinned. "Lindir!" He ran and hugged the elf. "I am going to build a snow elf!" Estel pronounced, staring wide-eyed and expectantly at his companion. "Would you like to help?"
"Um... I... Maybe later." Lindir replied, having learned that Estel and snow were not a good combination.
Content with that promise, the child sauntered out the enclosure and headed for the lake.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Where is Estel?!" Elrond demanded, throwing open the doors to the sitting room, not noticing how his emerald robes caught in them as they slammed shut.
Gilraen looked up from her embroidery. "He went outside. Do not worry, though," she added hastily, seeing the panic that filled the elf-lord's dark eyes. "I have warned him: no snowball fights this time."
"He is outside? Unaccompanied?"
She stared at him. "Yes. Elrond, is something wrong?" She asked, terror rising in her heart.
He ran across the room to fetch his cloak from where it was hung, ignoring the ripping sound that was his robes tearing. "I must find Estel!" Turning swiftly, he raced down the corridor, muttering a prayer to Elbereth that the boy was safe. 'If anything happens to him, I will never forgive myself!' He thought.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Estel..."
The young human stiffened, the unfamiliar voice sending a shiver down his spine. He spun his head round urgently, looking for the owner of that voice; but he was utterly alone.
"Estel..."
"Who is it?" He called in return.
Like an image from a dream, the little girl stepped out from behind a tree. "It's me, Estel. Do you remember me?" She smiled softly at the boy who stared at her in nothing less than astonishment.
"You are real!" He gasped, stepping closer to her. "Ada said I was dreaming, that I was seeing things, but you are real!"
The girl giggled. "You are strange." Shaking her head, a grin crossed her face. "Estel? Have you ever skated?"
The boy blinked. "No. I have never even heard of it. What is skating?"
"You'll see..." She whispered mysteriously, beckoning him to follow her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Just copy me," the girl explained, stepping confidently onto the ice- covered lake. With perfect balance, she stood on one leg, and leaned forward, floating effortlessly across the sheet of frozen water.
Not wanting to be outdone, especially by a girl, Estel walked onto the ice. The next thing he knew was pain: cold pain on his back.
"You are clumsy!" The girl was unable to contain her amusement at the young human lying sprawled on the ice. "Get up."
He leaned on one elbow, only for his arm to give way, sending onto his back again. "Give me your hand."
The girl recoiled. "No!" She manoeuvred herself back. "You will only pull me down too. Now get up and stop acting like a baby!"
After several (unsuccessful) attempts, Estel managed to pull himself to his feet. The girl surveyed him sceptically, then began to glide towards the centre of the lake. He followed, albeit clumsily, but luckily, the boy managed to keep his balance
"Did you ever remember your name?" Estel enquired. The girl shook her head. "How about if I guess names and you tell me if any of them sound familiar?"
"That sounds good." She smiled.
"Luthien?"
"No," she shook her head.
"Idril? Melian?"
Yet again, she shook her head.
"Elwing? Gilraen?"
"No."
"Ismene?"
A curious expression crossed the girl's face. "Ismene..." The name rolled easily off her tongue. "That is it!" She cried triumphantly. "My name is Ismene!"
Just then, Estel heard a crack from beneath his feet.
"What was that?" He shivered.
"ESTEL!" Elrond's frantic cry echoed in his ears. That was the last thing he heard before...
"ARGH!"
The ice underfoot cracked, and the boy plunged into the icy waters below.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"ESTEL!" Elrond's heart stopped as he saw the boy plummet into the lake. He ran, feet barely touching the ground.
The boy was clawing desperately, struggling to keep his head above the icy waters. "Ada, help me!" Then, his grip failed, and he slipped.
The elf-lord was hardly breathing as he dived into the icy waters, ignoring the cold in search of his foster-son. Estel flailed, trying to rise to the surface. Elrond swam towards the boy, and grabbed his cloak. In one fluid motion he propelled them both to the surface, and threw him onto the ice, before pulling himself up.
"Ada..." The boy choked. "Why are your robes torn?"
Elrond pulled the boy into his arms, sobbing. "Oh, nin ion!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thanks for reading! Please review! :-)
SPECIAL MENTIONS: Thanks to my kind reviewers: hobbitsrfun, Lady Mercury, arabella thorne and aragog. Cheers, and keep 'em coiming!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As the summary states, this story is AU. I know that, in Middle Earth, when an elf dies, their soul goes to the Halls of Mandos. However, I have changed that ever so slightly, so it fits in with this story. I just felt the need to mention this before the flames start coming in, complaining that I ought to "get my facts right".
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER TWO: THE GIRL ACROSS THE LAKE
Gilraen smiled softly at the sleeping child huddled beneath a mountain of blankets. She brushed a stray hair from his face, sighing. He was the image of his late father, her beloved Arathorn: the same dark hair, the same brooding sea-grey eyes. She bent, and kissed her son's cheek.
A soft knock drew Gilraen out of her reverie. "Come in."
Elrond slipped silently into the room, his teal robes swaying in the slight autumn breeze. He carefully closed the door, and leaned against the wall, eyeing mother and child. Gilraen tore her gaze from the sleeping form and turned to the elf-lord who had taken in her and her infant son.
"Has his fever abated?" Elrond asked. The only response he received was a nod. "Something troubles you, Gilraen. I can sense it..."
"My son is ill!" She snapped. "How else do you expect me to feel?" She rose from her chair, her lip trembling. "He is hallucinating, Elrond! Surely something is seriously wrong with him!"
Elrond sighed. He had sat up in his study all night, thinking about his treatment of the boy. Perhaps he had overreacted. At the very least, he could have seen the child to bed. But he had allowed anger to break through his normally indifferent aura, and had taken it out on an ill child, who needed affection, not scoldings. 'Even elf-lords make mistakes,' he thought ruefully. 'When Estel awakes, I will make it up to him for my behaviour last night.'
"Perhaps he just has an overactive imagination. After all, most children invent stories or have imaginary friends. Estel is probably going through one of those phases. I would not worry myself, Gilraen. He will be fine."
The woman nodded. Elrond lay a hand on her shoulder. "Go back to your chamber. I will sit with him for the rest of the day."
Estel groaned in his sleep, thrashing violently at some apparition in his dreams. Elrond pulled away one of the bedcovers, and sought the boy's hand. Lacing the small (and dirty, he noted with a raised brow) fingers through his own, he murmured an elven chant to banish nightmares. The child flailed one last time before sinking into a peaceful repose.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"But there was a girl, honest!" Estel pressed. "Amme, I'm not lying! I'm not!"
Gilraen shook her head. "Stop making things up! You were probably dreaming. There is no little girl in Rivendell."
Seeing no hope in his attempt to convince his mother, the boy turned to Elrond. "Ada, you believe me!"
The elf-lord beckoned the child up from where he was kneeling on the sitting room rug, and perched the boy in his lap. "Estel, I want you to listen to me: you were ill that night. The girl was not, and is not, real. She is just a figment of your imagination. Fever does that to a person: makes them see things that are not there."
"But she spoke to me!"
"Sight is not the sense that is distorted by fever, Estel."
The child stared at Elrond, confusion evident in his grey eyes. "What does distorted mean?"
The elf-lord sighed. He kept forgetting that it was necessary to use simpler words around the child, instead of delving into his vast vocabulary. "It means that your other senses are affected too. So you may hear things as well as see things."
The boy folded his arms across his chest in a measure of defiance. "I know that what I saw was real. She was real! Please Ada," Tears welled up in child's eyes. "I'm not lying!"
Elrond sighed, deciding to end this debate now before it became any more heated. He motioned Estel closer. "Run along outside and pick some flowers for your mother. I think she would like that."
Argument temporarily forgotten, the young human leapt off his foster- father's lap and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Golden autumn melted into frosty winter. As with most winters, comes...
"Snow!" Estel cried happily, bouncing up and down on his father's sleeping form. "Ada, wake up! Snow!"
The elf lord groaned, and tried to manoeuvre himself out of bed, a task that was hindered greatly by the overexcited child who was at present trampling Elrond in his hyperactive state. With one final leap, he landed heavily on Elrond's stomach, forcing the air from the elf's lungs.
Elrond gently pushed the child off his body and onto the soft mattress. "Calm down Estel!" He gasped. "If you keep this up, you will rip your night- shirt, and I doubt that will please you mother."
"But, Ada! It's snowing!"
The elf lord rubbed his eyes to adjust his bleary vision to the light. "Lovely," he muttered. "Go and tell your mother."
"Amme!" Estel cried, bolting out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Elrond collapsed on the bed, his eyes glazing over as he drifted back into the throes of slumber. For at least an hour, he lay in peaceful, untroubled sleep, oblivious to the outside world.
Then, he sat bolt upright. The lake!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After Gilraen had ensured that he was sufficiently wrapped up against the cold, despite her son's protests that three woollen tunics was slightly overboard, Estel raced down the corridor, assuring his mother that he would wear gloves and not get into another snowball fight with any of the older elves, especially after what happened last year. Glorfindel had attempted to amuse the child by participating in this game, only to suffer a broken leg when he fell down the stairs after his young charge had brought a snowball into the house and thrown it at the blond elf in a temper.
Skipping happily down the path, Estel began to sing one of the songs Erestor had taught him, the 'Fall of Gil-Galad'. Despite his tutor's assumptions, the child did pay attention during some lessons, usually the ones involving stories (or histories, as Erestor called them) about battles.
The path from the House led to his Ada's garden. Still singing, Estel swung open the silver gate, (having been punished too many times by clambering up the marble wall) and entered the garden. Normally so lush and full of greenery, now bare, save for the holly tree in the centre.
"Hello, Estel!" Lindir greeted, appearing from behind the child.
He grinned. "Lindir!" He ran and hugged the elf. "I am going to build a snow elf!" Estel pronounced, staring wide-eyed and expectantly at his companion. "Would you like to help?"
"Um... I... Maybe later." Lindir replied, having learned that Estel and snow were not a good combination.
Content with that promise, the child sauntered out the enclosure and headed for the lake.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Where is Estel?!" Elrond demanded, throwing open the doors to the sitting room, not noticing how his emerald robes caught in them as they slammed shut.
Gilraen looked up from her embroidery. "He went outside. Do not worry, though," she added hastily, seeing the panic that filled the elf-lord's dark eyes. "I have warned him: no snowball fights this time."
"He is outside? Unaccompanied?"
She stared at him. "Yes. Elrond, is something wrong?" She asked, terror rising in her heart.
He ran across the room to fetch his cloak from where it was hung, ignoring the ripping sound that was his robes tearing. "I must find Estel!" Turning swiftly, he raced down the corridor, muttering a prayer to Elbereth that the boy was safe. 'If anything happens to him, I will never forgive myself!' He thought.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Estel..."
The young human stiffened, the unfamiliar voice sending a shiver down his spine. He spun his head round urgently, looking for the owner of that voice; but he was utterly alone.
"Estel..."
"Who is it?" He called in return.
Like an image from a dream, the little girl stepped out from behind a tree. "It's me, Estel. Do you remember me?" She smiled softly at the boy who stared at her in nothing less than astonishment.
"You are real!" He gasped, stepping closer to her. "Ada said I was dreaming, that I was seeing things, but you are real!"
The girl giggled. "You are strange." Shaking her head, a grin crossed her face. "Estel? Have you ever skated?"
The boy blinked. "No. I have never even heard of it. What is skating?"
"You'll see..." She whispered mysteriously, beckoning him to follow her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Just copy me," the girl explained, stepping confidently onto the ice- covered lake. With perfect balance, she stood on one leg, and leaned forward, floating effortlessly across the sheet of frozen water.
Not wanting to be outdone, especially by a girl, Estel walked onto the ice. The next thing he knew was pain: cold pain on his back.
"You are clumsy!" The girl was unable to contain her amusement at the young human lying sprawled on the ice. "Get up."
He leaned on one elbow, only for his arm to give way, sending onto his back again. "Give me your hand."
The girl recoiled. "No!" She manoeuvred herself back. "You will only pull me down too. Now get up and stop acting like a baby!"
After several (unsuccessful) attempts, Estel managed to pull himself to his feet. The girl surveyed him sceptically, then began to glide towards the centre of the lake. He followed, albeit clumsily, but luckily, the boy managed to keep his balance
"Did you ever remember your name?" Estel enquired. The girl shook her head. "How about if I guess names and you tell me if any of them sound familiar?"
"That sounds good." She smiled.
"Luthien?"
"No," she shook her head.
"Idril? Melian?"
Yet again, she shook her head.
"Elwing? Gilraen?"
"No."
"Ismene?"
A curious expression crossed the girl's face. "Ismene..." The name rolled easily off her tongue. "That is it!" She cried triumphantly. "My name is Ismene!"
Just then, Estel heard a crack from beneath his feet.
"What was that?" He shivered.
"ESTEL!" Elrond's frantic cry echoed in his ears. That was the last thing he heard before...
"ARGH!"
The ice underfoot cracked, and the boy plunged into the icy waters below.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"ESTEL!" Elrond's heart stopped as he saw the boy plummet into the lake. He ran, feet barely touching the ground.
The boy was clawing desperately, struggling to keep his head above the icy waters. "Ada, help me!" Then, his grip failed, and he slipped.
The elf-lord was hardly breathing as he dived into the icy waters, ignoring the cold in search of his foster-son. Estel flailed, trying to rise to the surface. Elrond swam towards the boy, and grabbed his cloak. In one fluid motion he propelled them both to the surface, and threw him onto the ice, before pulling himself up.
"Ada..." The boy choked. "Why are your robes torn?"
Elrond pulled the boy into his arms, sobbing. "Oh, nin ion!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thanks for reading! Please review! :-)