Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the story; all of them belong to J.R.R Tolkein. However, I do call the plot my own. If this story seems similar to any other stories in it is purely coincidental and no harm is meant to anyone. Please read and review.
Summary: This story shows the life of a human child in an Elvish family and community.
Chapter I
Night creeps into Rivendell. Three-year-old Estel climbed into his bed beneath the covers and closed his eyes in slumber, unlike the other inhabitants of the Last Homely House who sleep with their eyes open, silently drinking in the tastes of the land. As the darkness enveloped the fair land, the young human child also gets wrapped up in dreams of his own.
Horses' hoofs landing on the dirt, a tap-tap galloping sound in the distance. Dust swirling in the air. Shouts and war cries of hideous beings. All elements of Estel's surroundings were mingling into one big chaotic picture, which he failed to comprehend. Turning to his mother, he realised that she was not there, but heard her voice in the adjoining room of the tent beyond the thin sheet that served as a partition. Padding over to her on his short, fat legs, he grabbed Gilrean's leg in fear of the sight before him. It was of his father lying on the floor mattress, but something was strangely amiss through his child-like eyes.
His father's eye was distended, almost gorged out of its socket, with blood flowing freely from the bloodied mess of muscle and tissue. Sweat trickled down his forehead and trailed along his pale cheek. Arathorn opened his dry-parched mouth to speak, but no sound came out, save a painful groan, before collapsing and lapsing into unconsciousness.
As Estel called out, "Papa!" in his dream, the image slowly swirled black and an unnerving silence filled the air.
All of a sudden, he saw something coming towards him. It was an evil- looking creature with a hooked nose and large webbed ears. Sniveling, it opened its mouth in a sneer to reveal long yellow fangs covered with thread- like slime, making gurgling noises in its throat. However, all that Estel noticed were the creature's eyes. There was dark liquid flowing out of them and they hung gingerly to the sockets by a thin sinew, just like one of his Papa's eyes ere he died. Without warning, the creature started to charge towards him, and as the distance between him and the creature lessened in degrees, more and more of them start coming for him, every one having the same facial expression and features. Just as one reaches for his throat with an iron fist and tries to throttle him to death.
Estel woke up with a start, eyes darting about the room as images of the dream threatened to merge with reality. But all Estel saw was darkness in his room that seemed to enclose unto him, smothering him in the black ink of the night. Trembling with fear, he slowly moved out of bed and felt for a candle and matches on the table to light up the room. Unfortunately, he accidentally knocked the candle off the table, causing it to fall on the ground with a seemingly deafening "thud", breaking the silence of the night. Frightened by the sudden noise, Estel scrambled back into bed and crawled into a corner, hugging his pillow fiercely as if it would allay his fears of the creature that haunted him in his sleep as silent tears rolled down his cheeks...
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Lord Elrond, master of Rivendell was in his study surrounded by old dusty records of the weaponry and defense formations of his land when suddenly, he heard a sound resonating from his adopted son's room not far away. Hastily, he put down his quill and headed for Estel's bedroom to check if things were all right.
As he entered the dark room, Elrond saw his son huddled in one corner of his bed, head poking out of the massive pillow and peering at him. His face was as pale as a sheet and his wild grey eyes depicted a fear even the child could not fathom. Elrond walked slowly towards Estel and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to the child to comfort him. But Estel shied away from the tall, dark-haired elf he was told to acknowledge as his "new" Papa, and shifted further away from him, as if his father was the creature in his dream whose touch would hurt him.
"Come, young one. I will not hurt you. You must have had a bad dream? ", said Elrond with a kind gaze and a queer raise of an eyebrow. But all he got was a whimper from the boy. Edging nearing to his son, he pushed the dark, wavy hair out of his eyes and caressed the damp cheek with long cool fingers before rising to retrieve the fallen candle.
When he turned around, he saw that Estel had already lain quietly down on his bed and seemed fast asleep. Afraid that if he probed the boy about the matter, it would only heighten his fear, Elrond pulled the covers over his son up to his small chin and stayed with him until he was certain that he was asleep and then left the room. Little did he know that Estel was engaged in an inner battle of his own, struggling against his own fears that sleep brought him beneath his lidded eyes...
To Be Continued...