[Sindarin]
"Estel!"
Pain. Pain and darkness. Pain of the heart as well as the body, as every unpleasant memory from his childhood was brought up and paraded before him. At times it seemed that the pain of his soul was enough to obliterate him. He felt the tendrils of cold dark wrap tightly about him, choking him, as the hauntingly seductive voice called for him to surrender. The pain would end. Everything would be different, better.
He opened his eyes. He hadn't even realised they were closed. Something warm trickled down his stomach. But he had no strength left, no heart to look. He didn't know what he was doing on the ground. Dimly he recognised the pinpricks of light above him as stars. The shadow in his heart snarled at their light, and soon all that mattered was the pain.
He had to end it. He could not take anymore. He didn't even know why he didn't just give in.
Then his eyes fell on him.
A tall, lone figure, born to sail the heavens and bearer of the hope of the Two Kindreds. Somehow, somehow Estel could see him clear as day through the countless leagues, and his gaze was on Estel. Eärendil nodded to him, and he heard the Mariner's voice speak one word in his battered mind.
"Estel."
~*~
[Sindarin]
"Valar!" Elladan swore as he came upon the young human. His heart stopped.
Estel lay on the ground. He was writhing, eyes closed, mouth moving without a sound. In the starlight Elladan's keen elven eyes saw the hilt of a dagger embedded in Estel's chest, and the dark stain spreading through the tunic.
"ESTEL!!"
The next thing he was aware of was crying uncontrollably as he cradled Estel's limp form. The human's movements weakened with each second. There would be no way he could return to his father with Estel in time. His father…
He couldn't think. All he felt was guilt. And pain. It was torment, but he felt that it wasn't enough. Guilt, at not being able to protect his twin. At accusing Estel out of that guilt, and now losing him. Somehow even his father… and Gilraen… he didn't want to think about that, but somehow, it was his fault too.
"Estel. Estel." He had the idea that if he said his brother's name enough times, Estel would live. "Don't do this! I am sorry! It is my fault, all of it! Never will I speak a harsh word to you again! Just stay with me, please. Please… I cannot lose you. I cannot."
~*~
[Sindarin]
Elrond ran as fast as he had ever done since the days of his youth. It didn't seem fast enough. With Vilya on his finger he knew where Estel was, and Elladan was with him.
His heart plummeted as he saw Elladan, rocking the limp form of Estel, crying and cursing at the same time. His eyes saw the dagger, the blood dripping onto the ground, the lack of movement. Half-afraid of what he will learn, and half-wary of Elladan's reaction to him, he approached.
Elladan's head snapped up. Tears flowed freely from his face, and his body was racked with sobs.
"He's no longer moving, Ada." Elladan's normally powerful baritone had been reduced to a weak whisper. "I found him, on the ground, and I … I… I couldn't do anything." Anguish filled his eyes, and the sobs began anew.
Elrond went cold. "Hush… let me see him."
The elf-lord's trembling fingers went to the boy's throat, then to his nose and mouth. He searched, looking for a sign, something. Elrond didn't want to think, didn't want to register the cold facts before him.
Estel was not breathing. His heart had stopped beating.
~*~
[Sindarin]
He was fading.
He could feel it. He knew it. He even felt regretful that he could not say a proper goodbye to his family.
Time stopped.
So, it is the Last Choice. It has been an interesting Game, has it not?
Most interesting.
The perhaps we should end it.
As the Rules demand, so it shall be met.
Young one, the seductive voice was turning loose its full power on Estel. Though the pain did not return, the memory became very fresh indeed, and his heart quailed. The Choice is before you.
Choose Life, or Death, but of your own free will. This was a different voice, older, more authoritative. . Suddenly he saw the thousands upon thousands of lives bound to his, and though his young mind could not understand fully what was happening to him, he nevertheless felt great responsibility for all those souls. He knew that he had to choose for them, not for himself.
But how could one choose? He did not have the foresight of his father, nor the wisdom that life brought. He had only seen 18 springs! Surely his death was required, for how can a lone mortal life bring anything but grief to so many? Men's hearts were weak, easily succumbed to evil in their almost innate desire for power. A terrible fear washed over him, for he realised that there were only two possible paths for him: to live and die in Rivendell as he is now, or to join the ranks of the dark powers, and rise as high as he could before treachery or greed felled him. And though he had no strong desire for power at that moment in his life, he recognised the dark potential within him, and wondered if perhaps one day being an oft-ignored adopted son of an elf-lord would not be enough for him.
Yet the Mariner had woken something within him, and in Eärendil's eyes Estel had seen also the strength of men. As if to balance the weakness of his body and mind, somewhere in his soul he knew that he desired very much to live. Despite his self-doubt and fear of the weakness within him, hope burned as brightly as Teplerion. Yes, he could end everything now. End the pain, and perhaps spare those lives of whatever torment he was capable of inflicting upon them. But… he didn't want to die. And he hoped- oh how he hoped!- that perhaps he may be able to deny the potential for evil within him, when the time came. And perhaps, perhaps, one day, even help all those lives he saw bound to his fate.
In his mind he felt Eärendil smile. Truly were you named, he whispered in Estel's mind. Though they do not always remember it, Men can be strong. Many were in the days of old, held as equals by the Firstborn they stood beside. This, you must not forget, Elessar. He felt as if a gentle hand touched his brow. I watch over you also, son of my son. Then he was gone.
But Estel would have smiled if he could. It mattered little now whether he actually lived or died, for he knew himself now, and was at peace.
"I choose life! Do you hear me?" He didn't know if he was actually shouting the words, or if it was all in his mind, but he put every last vestige of strength into them. "I will live with the pains and the joys, the nights and the days, and be glad for it. I will not surrender to you, O Betrayer of Life. I choose willingly. I choose Life!"
~*~*~
He didn't know how long they spent there, in the leaf-covered ground beneath the tree with its oddly-shaped branches. He dimly remembered gently taking Estel into his arms and slowly making their way home, trying not to feel the boy's cold skin and what it meant. The world was grey, and the only music left to him was the irregular breathing of Elladan beside him.
Suddenly a bright light came from behind them. In wonder they turned, and saw the sun slowly raise herself, her warmth and radiance illuminating the valley as they came through between gaps in the rocky cliffs surrounding the valley. Dawn had crept up on them, and so deep in their grief were they that they hadn't noticed.
Then, wonder of all wonders, in the growing light Elrond saw the slightest of movement, barely a twinge from Estel's hand. He froze, not daring to hope, to check, in case the dark being was playing a cruel final trick on them. But then one hand slowly moved, just slightly, little more than a sudden jerk of the muscles.It came to rest on Elrond's finger. On Vilya.
"Elladan!" His eldest son was staring at Estel, having seen the movement. "Healers, now!" Without another word Elladan sprinted off towards the House, running as if all the Hounds of Angband were after him. Probably even faster than if the Hounds were after him.
My son.
Elrond's gaze shot up skyward, at the twinkling star, alone now in the morning sky. Then his gaze lowered again, and for a moment he saw a faint glow on Estel's brow. Trembling, he kissed his son where the light had been, and closed his eyes as relief, gratitude, and love swept over him.
"Thank you, Ada."
~*~*~
