Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: I'm changing the plot of this story drastically, for the better, in my opinion. All right, so the mouse bit is a bit obscure. . .Again, I'm sorry if he's not like a child but I don't know a lot of little ones. Estel's dream sequence is taken from 'Phantasm', another story in this series. Thanks everyone for reviewing! I love hearing from you all!

*****

Three years later, Estel's eyes blinked open as he gasped. "By the moon and stars!" he exclaimed, sitting up and clutching the duvet close to his chest. As soon as Estel realized that he was in his room at home in Imladris, and that he was safe, his breathing began to slow to normal. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, bathing everything in a peacefulness with a light yellow color to it. Everything was all right, he was all right, save perhaps for the fact that he had overslept a little.

Shaking his head at his own silliness, Estel climbed from his bed to the floor. He did his best to make the bed, feeling that at seven years he was old enough to look after himself. Of course, due to his small stature, Estel only succeeded in half-pulling the duvet straight and then wrinkling it up as he straightened the pillows, but his effort showed and that was what mattered. With a self-satisfied nod, the little boy went over to his dresser and pulled out leggings and a tunic for the day. He dressed himself, then stood on tip-toe to pull the brush off his dresser and awkwardly brushed his hair.

"Oh, Estel," said Elrond, who was standing in the doorway. He did not say it in an exasperated or annoyed tone, but more in a tone of the slightest amusement usually accompanied by a slight shake of the head. But Elrond did not shake his head, he only approached his youngest son and gently took the brush from his hands. "If you will allow me?"

"Yes, ada," Estel said, and he stood obediently as Elrond gently brushed his hair, taking a care not to accidentally run the brush over Estel's ears or push to hard against his scalp. Estel did not know to appreciate or recognize the love in this seemingly meaningless gesture, but that was all right, because he was still only a boy, although he tried to act as though he was not. "Ada. . ." Estel began, but then he stopped, and was quiet. Though many of his childish habits had disappeared as the boy grew older and his appendages grew longer whilst his body remained small and steadily but slowly increased in size, this one had not gone.

"Yes, little one?" asked Elrond. He had finished brushing his son's hair, and knew that Estel would not reply and did not honestly expect an answer. But Estel clearly felt obligated to give one, and he struggled to think up something to say. "It is all right, Estel," Elrond told him, and because Estel was still uncertain Elrond cuddled him and tickled him. The boy shrieked with laughter and weakly protested.

"Ada! Stop it, put me down!" Estel protested, giggling, as Elrond lifted him into the air like a bird. "I'm too big for this!"

"Oh, you are?" asked Elrond, "But you seem like such a very small bird, Estel!" When at last Elrond set Estel down on the ground, the boy collapsed in giggles. "Are you ready to start the day, Estel?" asked Elrond, offering a hand to help the boy to his feet. "We are late already, I think."

"Yes, ada. I am ready." And Estel took Elrond's hand and pulled himself to his feet, and with the boy's smaller hand in the Elf's, the two left the room with the day off to a good start.

*****

Estel had been trying very hard to learn everything Glorfindel was trying to teach him, concentrating very hard and diligently completing exercises in his workbook, when Glorfindel let out a slight yelp and stomped on the ground. Estel looked up, worried. "What is it?" he asked. "Is something wrong, Glorfindel?"

"No, no, nothing," said Glorfindel in a voice slightly higher than usual.

Estel grinned. "Was it a mouse?" he asked. Glorfindel, hardy warrior as he was, was terribly afraid of mice and rats. Estel loved the little creatures, and could not imagine what was wrong with his tutor, but humored the Elf. "I'll take care of it. Where did it go to?" Estel asked. Glorfindel motioned towards a nearby bookshelf, and Estel got up and flattened himself on the ground, squinting. "I cannot see any mouse," he said. "Was it atop the bookshelf or below?"

"Atop," said Glorfindel.

"You might have said," Estel replied, and placed his foot on the bottom shelf, stuck his tongue between his lips and began his ascent. Fearless, Estel almost enjoyed the thrill of the climb. He certainly enjoyed breaking one of Ada's rules and not being in trouble for it. Just as he was reaching the top of the (albeit short) bookcase, Estel's footing wanted and he slipped, falling for only seconds before hitting the ground with a moan and a thud.

Estel, quite younger than he was now, slept deeply. Suddenly harsh sounds and cries of his friends, of people he knew and trusted, awoke him, and with a start young Estel fell to the ground. It hurt, and he was young enough to cry over it, but at the same time scrambled for the opening in the tent. . .

"Estel? Estel, are you all right?" asked Glorfindel, going to the boy worriedly.

It was so much clearer now. He could even smell the metallic smell of blood as it filled the air around him. Estel never did draw back that curtain. He knew, in his heart, that he never drew it aside. That only made things worse. It happened in the dream as it had in his memory: a man staggered in, with an arrow in his face, blood covering him, and he spoke to Estel--

"Estel, wake up!"

The boy's eyes fluttered open and he saw Glorfindel, cradling him, looking very concerned. The dream. . .it was so much clearer than it had been last night. Estel knew that if he had heard that name, he would have heard it clearly this time. He would have solved the mystery once and for all of the strange word that man always used, the word that meant him. . ."Why did you do that?" Estel demanded.

"I am sorry, Estel, I did not think you would fall. I should have thought--"

"No. Waking me. Why? He was so close to me, Glorfindel. Why did you make him go away?"

Glorfindel gave Estel an odd look, then set him on the ground and said, "Why not take the rest of the day as a break from lessons? Go and see your ada about that bump on the head, all right?"

"Yes, Glorfindel," Estel replied, and he left the room quietly. He did not go to talk to Elrond, because he was not sure he was ready to talk about the man in the dream. That awful nightmare. . .Estel had been having it for as long as he could remember, he reflected as he ambled around the taller grasses near to Imladris. How long could he remember? The boy stretched his memory as best he could. He remembered waking up in the morning that day and many days before. He remembered Lady Gilraen, so uncommonly present in Imladris, whom he was told to know as Mother. But is she was his mother. . .Estel was distracted from the tracing of his memories. "Who," he whispered to the wind, "is my father?"

Estel had spent hours fumbling with his memories in the grasses, although it had not felt like such a time to him. He only realized the time when, from the doorway to the house that was called home, Elladan called, "Estel? Are you here?" The mortal child looked up at the evening sky, then to the east, where the moon was rising. It was a waning moon, and for some reason Estel was frightened of it--an image in his head, the man in the tent. . .the moon behind him was so tiny, and he stumbled--"Estel, there you are! We were worried!" Elladan appeared suddenly before his little brother, and swooped the boy up in his arms. "Are you all right?"

Suddenly Estel realized that he had directly disobeyed Glorfindel, which he had not meant to do, and he said, "Yes, Elladan. I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Estel. Just come inside now." Elladan carried Estel, although that was not exactly necessary. Estel stared over his brother's shoulder at the moon, and though he knew what he had seen he could not for the life of him bring the memory back to him.

*****

To be continued