Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.
StriderGrrl: He pushes himself because he is used to being told that he is a Man and thus inferior to the Elves. He has something to prove. Also, he seeks to rescue his brothers, who mean more to him than life itself. I don't know what you mean by "what's up with Muriel" or I would answer. Meh, I've seen it done both ways. Haha, I'm actually just too lazy to go back and fix it. But I have seen it done both ways. They haven't really had time to stop and think yet. Soon they will.
Aratfeniel: My story is like one of those novels you pick up at a bookstore because you're bored, and it turns out being an enjoyable read, from your review. That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love hearing from you all!
*****
Estel felt a hand on his shoulder. "Get them under control," Legolas whispered, his breath hot in Estel's ear. Yet when Estel turned, Legolas was looking straight ahead as though he had said nothing. Estel gave Legolas a grateful smile he could only hope the Elf saw.
"All right, all right!" Estel said loudly. "We are all excited, but our job is yet unfinished." Again the others bent to his will, quieting. With a swift motion, Estel lead them onwards. When they reached the gates of the city, Estel and Legolas leading, at first no one was sure of what to do. Luckily, two guards were situated in a watchtower, and called down to the small procession, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Estel looked to Legolas, who prodded him to answer. The mortal looked up to the guards, shaded his eyes, and cried back, "We come from Lord Elrond of Imladris!" There was a moment in which the guards conferred, and Estel wondered if he had said something wrong, and if they were going to be turned away. His heart fluttered. If they were not allowed in, then Elladan and Elrohir…
The gates slowly opened with a loud creaking sound, and Estel calmed at once. He had said the right thing, it appeared. One of the doorguards had descended, and stood before the group. He was an inch or two taller than Estel, and shorter than Legolas by at least a head. This seemed to make him quite nervous, and he shook just slightly. "Welcome, visitors," he said. "Come; I will take you to our King." With this he turned and strode away, leaving the Imladris crew to follow in his wake.
"Rather presumptuous, calling their leader a King," Estel muttered to Legolas.
"Probably what he calls himself. Think on it, Estel. He wants to seem important, wishes to be unquestioned in his rule, or is uncertain of his own ability and command. Either way, he is an upstart. Tread with care in his presence. He will look for insult," Legolas advised. Estel nodded slowly, taking these words to mind as he observed the city around him. There was little to see; the place was poorly constructed, as though made in haste. Likely it -was- made in haste, Estel realized. Something struck him as odd, but he was unsure of what. Absorbed in searching for this problem, Estel only realized they had reached the King's Hall when the door was opened and he was motioned in.
Even the hall was of shoddy quality, rather contrasting with the King. He was an older man, older than Estel had ever seen, well in to his forties, perhaps early in his fifties. Dark, thin hair fell back from his face, revealing a weathered look, skin like leather, but not an unkind glint to his eyes. For a moment the group from Imladris stopped, simply staring, for none of them had ever seen a person showing such age. Then Estel lowered himself to one knee, and the others followed. "We come bearing word from Lord Elrond of Imladris, so please you, lord," said Estel, knowing that at least this had been done in proper.
"And what does the Elven Lord say?" asked the King.
"He says, lord, that if you cannot form your own peace, he shall have to send his sons to do so. Also with this message came his sons--but of last night they were taken by your own Men. In their stead, we have come," with this Estel motioned to the group behind him, and to Legolas beside him, and to himself. "It is our duty to instate and oversee negotiations."
"I know nothing of these Elves you say are in my keeping. Lord Elrond's behaviour is rather brazen of one with no involvement in our doings," commented the King.
"Yes, were it so," Estel agreed. "But it is not. More Men and Elves are coming to Imladris every day seeking healing, and--" Estel caught himself just in time. He had started to say "my father"--now why had he done that? "Lord Elrond will refuse them, if he must. If you cannot find peace in this life, you may find it in your deaths."
Estel held his breath when he had finished saying this, fully afraid that he had gone too far--and the King began to laugh. The younger mortal looked up curiously. "Very well, very well. Lord Elrond sends us Elf children and a half-pint boy, does he? Let him close his borders to us, but I will not grudge you the orders you follow. You all must be tired, and will be accommodated for the night. You, boy, are the leader of these rag-tags, then?"
"Aye, sir," replied Estel, and added under his breath, "though rag-tags they be not."
"Then you may tell your lord that we need not his healing skill, for it is the Elves that take the greatest offense, not us," the King said.
"Aye, sir," Estel repeated, and gladly left the Hall, following the doorguard.
*****
Later that night, as Estel tied his hair back to sleep and stared out the window into the inky sky, Legolas knocked on the door, then slipped in, carefully making sure to shut the door behind him. The whole of their company had been granted lodgings and a meal, with the firmest intentions of visiting the Elves on the morrow. "What are your thoughts?" asked Legolas, sitting on the bed.
"I think I want my brothers free, and the King is not going to let them go," Estel replied. Legolas gazed on him with a sigh in his eyes.
"You are too attached to this, Estel. If you want your brothers back, you must view things from an outsider's perspective. Mark my words, without your emotional blindness you will be free, but with it, your brothers will remain captive, and who knows to what end? Take a moment, and tell me your thoughts--not Estel's thoughts, yours."
With a deep, shaking breath Estel said slowly, "The King is being polite, in a rude way. He is proud, and will not admit that his people are falling. That was what felt strange in the city today--there was no one about. Why? I think, also, that Ada was correct in saying that if these two peoples do not find peace they will destroy each other."
"He said that?"
"Yes."
Legolas laughed bitterly. "You ask me why no one was about today; I will answer you. Either they fear us, because we are Elves, or they were all occupied elsewhere. Ask not where, for I know not. Do you see any implications in my speech?"
"You said…they fear you. How did they know Elves were coming, when not a single being was seen? Also, the idea of everyone being occupied elsewhere suggests that even children have some form of…job in this city. Perhaps they are schooled, as are we, so that they may be easier sent out as warriors?" As soon as these words had left his mouth, Estel clapped a hand to his mouth. He had never thought of things this way before--but it was true. He began to shake. Legolas jumped up from the bed and held the boy gently.
"No, Estel, it is not at all like that," Legolas soothed. "Imladris is nothing like that." He felt Estel nodding against his chest, and released the boy. "You do understand?"
"Yes…yes, of course. Legolas, are you all right?" Estel's voice changed in an instant from one of detachment to one of true concern.
"Fine, I am just tired," Legolas replied, yawning.
"You should get some sleep," Estel said. "Go on, I will be all right."
As Estel bid, Legolas left, returning to his room to sleep the night. Estel realized that he, too, was tired, and stretched out on the bed. 'Just a few moments,' he thought. He did not trust the King enough to sleep. 'I am only resting my eyes…'
*****
Estel awoke to the sounds of clamor and struggle in the corridor just outside. Usually, under such circumstances, he would snap awake in moments, but now his muscles were lethargic yet, and his vision blurred. With great effort he grabbed his sword from beside the bed and threw open the door. In the hall, havoc reigned. Men and Elves fought each other, but the Men were winning, aiming obviously to subdue, not kill. Why did the Elves move so slowly? Estel wondered as he dashed into the fray, suddenly able to move again, though still a little slowed.
Estel saw Elemmiire, and knew at once that the Elfling was in direct danger. A Man had a sword gripped over his head and was bringing it down. Without thinking, Estel ducked beneath one Man's arm and swerved around another. He had only enough time to thrust his blade in the path of the hilt headed for the base of Elemmiire's skull, before he felt something smash into him. Pain shot through Estel, and his muscles jerked. Spots exploded in front of his eyes, and then everything went black.
*****
TBC! Please review, because I do feel that this chapter was done poorly but cannot say what is wrong with it, and perhaps one of you knows?
I think this one will be finished up in about four chapters, so I'll let you guys know my story itinerary in a later chapter if anyone wants.
