Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof. The only profit being made is enjoyment.
MaverickGirl: But of course! It's not supposed to be a great mystery to any one but Estel.
Arabella Thorne: I'm glad you do. The changes were not actually going to occur, but then I lost the other version. . .heh heh. . .
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing from you guys! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon!
*****
Estel's stomach complained of hunger, but that night at supper he could not eat. He looked upon the face of his foster father and a lump formed in his throat. 'I have always thought he would for ever be my Ada,' Estel thought, remembering how happy and playful they had been together just that morning. 'Yet now everything is different.' The place in Estel's heart that always felt warm when he thought of his Ada suddenly ached. Though he did not have the words to say and did not exactly know it, a piece of him had been lost. He was no longer content with a foster family, but sought his true family, the Man whose blood flowed in his veins.
"May I be excused?" Estel asked suddenly, then slid off his chair and dashed out of the room without waiting for an answer. Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond looked after him, wondering what had happened to change Estel so over the course of a single day. He was so quiet, his brows knitted in thought. What could possibly be plaguing the mind of a seven-year-old boy? Yet they respected his privacy for the moment, trusting Estel to speak up when he needed help. He was not without his pride.
The child in question was running through corridors just then, fighting his way back to his room. Once he had slammed the door shut behind him with all the strength his seven-year-old muscles could manage, he leaned against the door and focused on breathing as tears streaked down his face, rolling over his cheeks and plunging to the floor. "I cannot do this," he muttered, rubbing his runny nose on the back of his sleeve as his sobs ebbed and his tears began to dry. "I cannot go on like this."
The response to this was a bark, and a warm, wet nose shoved its way into Estel's face. Ranger, Estel's canine friend, was ecstatic to see his human companion and grieved each of Estel's tears. The dog had run out from beneath the bed, and now was licking Estel's face all over. "Hello, Ranger," Estel said, his heart lifting as he scratched the dog's neck. Ranger's coat was black and white, his back and most of his head black and his legs, paws and belly white. His fur was long and shaggy, and his size was great: indeed, he was bigger than the mortal boy from hind leg to fore, though standing upright Estel was taller. The dog was Estel's best friend, and often the two tussled in the meadow-grass. This rough play had worried Elrond, at first, but he soon came to see that that dog would never hurt his son, nor his son the dog, and so let them be. Should any mishaps occur, thought Elrond, there would be nothing he could not heal.
"At least around you am I still myself," muttered Estel, kneeling and wrapping his arms tightly around his friend in a warm embrace. Ranger licked Estel's ear, a gesture which usually caused the boy to laugh, but tonight only served to remind him that he was not Elven. With sad movements Estel drew back, ruffled the fur between Ranger's ears, then crossed to the dresser and took out his nightshirt. He left his daytime clothes crumpled in a heap on the floor and climbed into bed, doing his best to tuck himself in beneath the covers. Ranger leapt up onto the bed and settled himself beside the boy, who twined his fingers tightly into the thick fur coat. "Love you, Ranger," muttered Estel sleepily as his eyes closed.
*****
When Elrond went to check on his youngest son later that night, he found Estel deeply asleep, his breathing even and deep, his arms wrapped around that monster of a dog. Ranger was loyal and loving, but this did not stop his strength from scaring Elrond when the animal was in such close quarters with his little boy. It amazed him that Estel was not afraid, but if the boy's wishes were to keep the dog, and the animal did no harm, then Elrond would endure his worries. He had seen the bond an animal and human could share in his own Arwen, and in the whispered tales his brother once told he remembered. . .
Shaking his head, Elrond realized he was leaning against the doorframe, no longer focused on Estel but lost in nostalgia. When his attention returned to the present it took a moment for him to orient himself and notice that something was amiss. Estel's breathing was quicker and shallow, his eyelids showing rapid motion beneath. His fingers clenched Ranger's fur tighter, and the dog awoke with a low growl. Elrond strode across the room shortly, sitting beside Estel and stroking the boy's hair to calm him. "Shh, Estel, it is only a dream," Elrond whispered, and it seemed the boy had calmed, but seconds later he sat up with a start and cried, "Papa!"
"Estel, child, what do you dream?" asked Elrond, seeing the boy's fear written in his eyes as plain as day.
"Ada. . ." he said, as though speaking for the very first time, his eyes as though they had never beheld before that moment. "Ada!" Estel threw himself at his foster father, who reflexively wrapped his arms around the boy, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. "Ada. . ." he sobbed again, shivering, whether with cold or fear, Elrond was unsure.
"Hush, child, it was a dream. Nothing but a dream, and it is gone. You are safe now, I promise."
"Ada, I was so scared," Estel said, his voice muffled against Elrond's chest. "I was so little and. . .and. . .so scared. . ." Estel drew away, and he met Elrond's eyes as though searching for something in the Elf's wizened face, then his fear seized him and he cried, "Please do not let them come back, Ada!" and hurled himself back into his foster father's embrace.
By now Elrond was quite certain that his son dreamed of the Orcs. He had never seen such fear caused by any other manner of being. Hoping the twins would not mind him saying so, Elrond confided in Estel, "Long ago, Elladan and Elrohir swore to kill every one of them to ever roam the lands of Middle-earth. They are Orcs, Estel, and they will not touch you. Your brothers and I will not allow it." For a long time Estel stayed there, feeling the warmth and comfort of being held and loved and protected. He stayed motionless when his tears would not come, and only returned to the covers of his bed when he was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. He expected to fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
It was easier to sleep, Estel knew, when you had been kissed good-night. But that night, Estel was awake much longer. His mind raced in confusing circles, coming at last to a stop on one thought: the dream was coming stronger, and more often. He must find that Man, or learn his identity, and quickly. That night, for the first time in his conscious memory, Estel had seen an Orc.
*****
To be continued
MaverickGirl: But of course! It's not supposed to be a great mystery to any one but Estel.
Arabella Thorne: I'm glad you do. The changes were not actually going to occur, but then I lost the other version. . .heh heh. . .
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing from you guys! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon!
*****
Estel's stomach complained of hunger, but that night at supper he could not eat. He looked upon the face of his foster father and a lump formed in his throat. 'I have always thought he would for ever be my Ada,' Estel thought, remembering how happy and playful they had been together just that morning. 'Yet now everything is different.' The place in Estel's heart that always felt warm when he thought of his Ada suddenly ached. Though he did not have the words to say and did not exactly know it, a piece of him had been lost. He was no longer content with a foster family, but sought his true family, the Man whose blood flowed in his veins.
"May I be excused?" Estel asked suddenly, then slid off his chair and dashed out of the room without waiting for an answer. Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond looked after him, wondering what had happened to change Estel so over the course of a single day. He was so quiet, his brows knitted in thought. What could possibly be plaguing the mind of a seven-year-old boy? Yet they respected his privacy for the moment, trusting Estel to speak up when he needed help. He was not without his pride.
The child in question was running through corridors just then, fighting his way back to his room. Once he had slammed the door shut behind him with all the strength his seven-year-old muscles could manage, he leaned against the door and focused on breathing as tears streaked down his face, rolling over his cheeks and plunging to the floor. "I cannot do this," he muttered, rubbing his runny nose on the back of his sleeve as his sobs ebbed and his tears began to dry. "I cannot go on like this."
The response to this was a bark, and a warm, wet nose shoved its way into Estel's face. Ranger, Estel's canine friend, was ecstatic to see his human companion and grieved each of Estel's tears. The dog had run out from beneath the bed, and now was licking Estel's face all over. "Hello, Ranger," Estel said, his heart lifting as he scratched the dog's neck. Ranger's coat was black and white, his back and most of his head black and his legs, paws and belly white. His fur was long and shaggy, and his size was great: indeed, he was bigger than the mortal boy from hind leg to fore, though standing upright Estel was taller. The dog was Estel's best friend, and often the two tussled in the meadow-grass. This rough play had worried Elrond, at first, but he soon came to see that that dog would never hurt his son, nor his son the dog, and so let them be. Should any mishaps occur, thought Elrond, there would be nothing he could not heal.
"At least around you am I still myself," muttered Estel, kneeling and wrapping his arms tightly around his friend in a warm embrace. Ranger licked Estel's ear, a gesture which usually caused the boy to laugh, but tonight only served to remind him that he was not Elven. With sad movements Estel drew back, ruffled the fur between Ranger's ears, then crossed to the dresser and took out his nightshirt. He left his daytime clothes crumpled in a heap on the floor and climbed into bed, doing his best to tuck himself in beneath the covers. Ranger leapt up onto the bed and settled himself beside the boy, who twined his fingers tightly into the thick fur coat. "Love you, Ranger," muttered Estel sleepily as his eyes closed.
*****
When Elrond went to check on his youngest son later that night, he found Estel deeply asleep, his breathing even and deep, his arms wrapped around that monster of a dog. Ranger was loyal and loving, but this did not stop his strength from scaring Elrond when the animal was in such close quarters with his little boy. It amazed him that Estel was not afraid, but if the boy's wishes were to keep the dog, and the animal did no harm, then Elrond would endure his worries. He had seen the bond an animal and human could share in his own Arwen, and in the whispered tales his brother once told he remembered. . .
Shaking his head, Elrond realized he was leaning against the doorframe, no longer focused on Estel but lost in nostalgia. When his attention returned to the present it took a moment for him to orient himself and notice that something was amiss. Estel's breathing was quicker and shallow, his eyelids showing rapid motion beneath. His fingers clenched Ranger's fur tighter, and the dog awoke with a low growl. Elrond strode across the room shortly, sitting beside Estel and stroking the boy's hair to calm him. "Shh, Estel, it is only a dream," Elrond whispered, and it seemed the boy had calmed, but seconds later he sat up with a start and cried, "Papa!"
"Estel, child, what do you dream?" asked Elrond, seeing the boy's fear written in his eyes as plain as day.
"Ada. . ." he said, as though speaking for the very first time, his eyes as though they had never beheld before that moment. "Ada!" Estel threw himself at his foster father, who reflexively wrapped his arms around the boy, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. "Ada. . ." he sobbed again, shivering, whether with cold or fear, Elrond was unsure.
"Hush, child, it was a dream. Nothing but a dream, and it is gone. You are safe now, I promise."
"Ada, I was so scared," Estel said, his voice muffled against Elrond's chest. "I was so little and. . .and. . .so scared. . ." Estel drew away, and he met Elrond's eyes as though searching for something in the Elf's wizened face, then his fear seized him and he cried, "Please do not let them come back, Ada!" and hurled himself back into his foster father's embrace.
By now Elrond was quite certain that his son dreamed of the Orcs. He had never seen such fear caused by any other manner of being. Hoping the twins would not mind him saying so, Elrond confided in Estel, "Long ago, Elladan and Elrohir swore to kill every one of them to ever roam the lands of Middle-earth. They are Orcs, Estel, and they will not touch you. Your brothers and I will not allow it." For a long time Estel stayed there, feeling the warmth and comfort of being held and loved and protected. He stayed motionless when his tears would not come, and only returned to the covers of his bed when he was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. He expected to fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
It was easier to sleep, Estel knew, when you had been kissed good-night. But that night, Estel was awake much longer. His mind raced in confusing circles, coming at last to a stop on one thought: the dream was coming stronger, and more often. He must find that Man, or learn his identity, and quickly. That night, for the first time in his conscious memory, Estel had seen an Orc.
*****
To be continued