Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, any recognizable characters or
places.
Waseom: Reactions will come in slowly. It's unsettlingly common, how many people cut for relief.
Dragon: The rest of the story will get into why he was doing what he was doing. That was just the prologue! It is not scientifically unsound! Have you ever watched water boil? Small bubbles form and rise to the surface of the water. Just for the record, a watched pot does too boil.
Shannon: Ah, don't we all love Aragorn angst? As for my friend, thank you for your concern. She does see a therapist, but I want her to know that people really care about her, and are there for her. Also, she and I only talk through e-mail as we live in different countries, so sometimes we write each other stories as a reminder that we've got each other. There is also some comfort in the stories.
Sidh Ceili: I didn't mean any offense by that, more of a just-in-case. Thank you, and thanks from my friend (who is doing her best). Hope you enjoy this chapter!
The PixieLady: Everyone's harder on their own writing than on others. Thank you!
Evil Strasse: Thanks!
Losseniaiel: I'm sorry you had to go through that. Elrond is. . .well, you'll see. He's in this chapter, then in the next, and I haven't really planned a chapter after that.
Karana: Thanks, and what is "IMO"?
Aragorn Elessar who-is-too-lazy-to-log-in: The "why" is coming up, it will take a few chapters to explain. The voice is basically his conscience, only it's a bit like. . .did you ever read "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden"? If you did, it's like that. (if not, I'll explain what that means next chapter)
Runaround: Thanks for that constructive tip. The prologue was just a little thing written while I was supposed to be doing homework, but I will try to do better in later chapters with description.
KitKatGirl: You'll see why. And woohoo! Twelve years forever! (or, in my case, for the next few months)
Jukia: Hey, your man is beating himself up! I did e-mail, not sure if you got it.
Dinwen: Is your friend all right? My friend is at the hardest point right now.
MidnightLoner: Thanks. It's good to know that you did not cut yourself, it is a terrible thing to do.
Verona and Godforsaken: I never said I was an expert on mental illness. However, I know my friend extremely well. If she knows there is a person out there who will support her, someone to get better for, she is going to throw her habit out the window and never look back. You can be as skeptical as you want to--I don't doubt that you have encountered such a problem and it was ugly--but this is what I can do for my friend. Are you telling me to leave her alone, let her cut? I have no such apathetic bone in my body.
Dragon and Aragorn Elessar: I think you guys know a friend of mine! Does either of you recall a writer by the name of JediKnightBalthasar? I've heard her talk about you, I think.
*****
"Estel?" Elladan called out his younger brother's name. Elladan's worry about the child had increased slowly over the past few weeks. Now he felt flutters in his chest, nervousness activated. Estel had been late for supper and Elladan immediately volunteered to go find him, hoping to confront him. Though firm in his beliefs, Elladan was apprehensive about approaching his brother.
"Estel, are you--" Elladan paused. The door, which he had so mindlessly shoved, banged loudly against the wall. "Estel, are you all right?" Elladan asked worriedly, as he ran to his brother's side. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I. . ." Estel whispered, then he nodded. Overwhelming pain encased him, and he let himself go.
"Hold on, you will be all right," Elladan promised, lifting Estel's seemingly spiritless body into his arms. He had known things were bad, but this? This was worse than he could have imagined.
*****
Estel was just over eleven years old when it occurred to the Elflings that he would be an easy target. The others, his friends who were then too young for him to play with, had been very nice, not caring that he was different. Because of this, or perhaps in spite of it, Estel had never realized just how much it mattered that he was unlike them, or at all how unlike other Elves he was.
"Round-eared" was the first of the taunts. Soon to follow were "ephemeral", mutt", and--worst of all--"bastard child". The last might not have been so bad, were it not for the fact that Estel had believed that Lord Elrond was his father. When he told the others this, they laughed at him. "Go and ask him," one Elfling had told Estel. "Go ask Lord Elrond who your father is."
Estel had not done this, but he had spent the entire night lying awake in bed, tugging angrily at his ears, pinching them and wishing they would stay that way. Was he so different? The question raced through his young mind. Was he worse than the others? Was his difference so bad? It had never occurred to him that he was not directly related to Elrond. Were the others right?
All these questions bothered Estel. The next morning, unable to take the taunts of his so-called mates any longer, he sped to the library after breakfast and stayed there all the time, except for meals. He had plenty of things left yet to learn, and learn he did--to a degree of excellence. After a spell his haven had worn out.
"Are you trying to prove that you are the equivalent of an Elf in any way?" Anterrabae, an older and particularly malicious Elfling, drawled.
"Go away, Anterrabae," Estel growled, not even lowering his book.
"Come now, mortal-mutt, do not be so silly. There is no reason to be cruel to me simply for knowing the facts," Anterrabae said with innocence.
"Leave me alone!" Estel shouted, slamming his book to the table in front of him. Anterrabae smiled slyly, knowing he had gotten to the boy.
"You have no control over me," the Elfling stated. Estel's teeth clenched, his fists tightening, and he jumped at Anterrabae.
"Do not ever make fun of me again!" Estel shouted. "I swear on my honour, I swear I will kill you!" He pummeled the Elfling who, having been caught unawares, had not managed to put up a defense.
When Elrond found the two, he pulled a flailing Estel off Anterrabae. "Estel!" he admonished. "You are not a savage and you are not to act like one!"
"He started it!" Estel protested. "It was his fault, anyway. I would have left him alone if he had not--"
"I started nothing, Lord Elrond," a bloodied Anterrabae said, shakily getting to his feet. "Estel attacked me."
"Is this true?" Elrond asked Estel.
"Yes, sir," Estel replied, shame burning up his cheeks. He had attacked Anterrabae. It was entirely his fault.
"Estel," Elrond said, clearly angry but trying not to show it, "please go to your room."
"But Ada--" Estel whined, but Elrond interrupted him.
"I am not asking, Estel."
"Yes, sir." Estel hung his head as he slunk out of the room. Anterrabae did his best not to laugh.
**
It took a good five hours for Estel to feel sorry for what he had done. Once he stopped thinking angry thoughts, he began to realize that he had done wrong. Once he realized he was wrong, his pride stopped him from being willing to apologize. As soon as his pride had worn down, a pyjama-pants- clad boy slipped out into the corridor.
It was dark, well after Estel's bedtime, perhaps ten o'clock at night. However, Estel was nearly a teenager. He knew well enough that the world did not go to sleep when he did, and was more or less certain that Elrond did not go to sleep for many hours after his sons' well-enforced bedtime. Oh, how Elladan and Elrohir grumbled about that!
Estel paused outside Elrond's study. He was about to knock when he heard voices from within. "I do not know what got into him," Elrond was saying. "Estel is a good boy, he usually does not fight with others. Something serious must have happened to make him attack that boy."
"Perhaps he just wants attention. Remember how Arwen used to get into quarrels when she was jealous of the boys?" That was Glorfindel speaking.
"It hardly seems likely. Estel cowers at the very mention of trouble."
'I do not!' Estel mouthed angrily. He was not some little boy--not in his opinion, at least--who shook at the merest mention of authority. Having heard enough, Estel crept away, forgetting his intentions. He would apologize tomorrow.
"I just do not know what to do, Glorfindel," Elrond concluded. "Clearly something is upsetting Estel very badly, and I have to discern a way to discover what it is, and at the same time make him understand that fighting is wrong, without losing my head."
"That boy was rather beat-up, Elrond," Glorfindel said warily. "Maybe the boy--"
"Call him by his name, Glorfindel, he is a person."
"All I am saying is that he might not be as upset as you make him out to be."
**
That night, Estel had an idea. It was not brilliant, but it seemed that way to him. It would solve all his problems. . .
*****
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Self-mutilation may not enter for another chapter or two, but I want to set the scene first. Oh, did anyone catch the allusion in this chapter? I would like to know if you did.
Waseom: Reactions will come in slowly. It's unsettlingly common, how many people cut for relief.
Dragon: The rest of the story will get into why he was doing what he was doing. That was just the prologue! It is not scientifically unsound! Have you ever watched water boil? Small bubbles form and rise to the surface of the water. Just for the record, a watched pot does too boil.
Shannon: Ah, don't we all love Aragorn angst? As for my friend, thank you for your concern. She does see a therapist, but I want her to know that people really care about her, and are there for her. Also, she and I only talk through e-mail as we live in different countries, so sometimes we write each other stories as a reminder that we've got each other. There is also some comfort in the stories.
Sidh Ceili: I didn't mean any offense by that, more of a just-in-case. Thank you, and thanks from my friend (who is doing her best). Hope you enjoy this chapter!
The PixieLady: Everyone's harder on their own writing than on others. Thank you!
Evil Strasse: Thanks!
Losseniaiel: I'm sorry you had to go through that. Elrond is. . .well, you'll see. He's in this chapter, then in the next, and I haven't really planned a chapter after that.
Karana: Thanks, and what is "IMO"?
Aragorn Elessar who-is-too-lazy-to-log-in: The "why" is coming up, it will take a few chapters to explain. The voice is basically his conscience, only it's a bit like. . .did you ever read "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden"? If you did, it's like that. (if not, I'll explain what that means next chapter)
Runaround: Thanks for that constructive tip. The prologue was just a little thing written while I was supposed to be doing homework, but I will try to do better in later chapters with description.
KitKatGirl: You'll see why. And woohoo! Twelve years forever! (or, in my case, for the next few months)
Jukia: Hey, your man is beating himself up! I did e-mail, not sure if you got it.
Dinwen: Is your friend all right? My friend is at the hardest point right now.
MidnightLoner: Thanks. It's good to know that you did not cut yourself, it is a terrible thing to do.
Verona and Godforsaken: I never said I was an expert on mental illness. However, I know my friend extremely well. If she knows there is a person out there who will support her, someone to get better for, she is going to throw her habit out the window and never look back. You can be as skeptical as you want to--I don't doubt that you have encountered such a problem and it was ugly--but this is what I can do for my friend. Are you telling me to leave her alone, let her cut? I have no such apathetic bone in my body.
Dragon and Aragorn Elessar: I think you guys know a friend of mine! Does either of you recall a writer by the name of JediKnightBalthasar? I've heard her talk about you, I think.
*****
"Estel?" Elladan called out his younger brother's name. Elladan's worry about the child had increased slowly over the past few weeks. Now he felt flutters in his chest, nervousness activated. Estel had been late for supper and Elladan immediately volunteered to go find him, hoping to confront him. Though firm in his beliefs, Elladan was apprehensive about approaching his brother.
"Estel, are you--" Elladan paused. The door, which he had so mindlessly shoved, banged loudly against the wall. "Estel, are you all right?" Elladan asked worriedly, as he ran to his brother's side. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I. . ." Estel whispered, then he nodded. Overwhelming pain encased him, and he let himself go.
"Hold on, you will be all right," Elladan promised, lifting Estel's seemingly spiritless body into his arms. He had known things were bad, but this? This was worse than he could have imagined.
*****
Estel was just over eleven years old when it occurred to the Elflings that he would be an easy target. The others, his friends who were then too young for him to play with, had been very nice, not caring that he was different. Because of this, or perhaps in spite of it, Estel had never realized just how much it mattered that he was unlike them, or at all how unlike other Elves he was.
"Round-eared" was the first of the taunts. Soon to follow were "ephemeral", mutt", and--worst of all--"bastard child". The last might not have been so bad, were it not for the fact that Estel had believed that Lord Elrond was his father. When he told the others this, they laughed at him. "Go and ask him," one Elfling had told Estel. "Go ask Lord Elrond who your father is."
Estel had not done this, but he had spent the entire night lying awake in bed, tugging angrily at his ears, pinching them and wishing they would stay that way. Was he so different? The question raced through his young mind. Was he worse than the others? Was his difference so bad? It had never occurred to him that he was not directly related to Elrond. Were the others right?
All these questions bothered Estel. The next morning, unable to take the taunts of his so-called mates any longer, he sped to the library after breakfast and stayed there all the time, except for meals. He had plenty of things left yet to learn, and learn he did--to a degree of excellence. After a spell his haven had worn out.
"Are you trying to prove that you are the equivalent of an Elf in any way?" Anterrabae, an older and particularly malicious Elfling, drawled.
"Go away, Anterrabae," Estel growled, not even lowering his book.
"Come now, mortal-mutt, do not be so silly. There is no reason to be cruel to me simply for knowing the facts," Anterrabae said with innocence.
"Leave me alone!" Estel shouted, slamming his book to the table in front of him. Anterrabae smiled slyly, knowing he had gotten to the boy.
"You have no control over me," the Elfling stated. Estel's teeth clenched, his fists tightening, and he jumped at Anterrabae.
"Do not ever make fun of me again!" Estel shouted. "I swear on my honour, I swear I will kill you!" He pummeled the Elfling who, having been caught unawares, had not managed to put up a defense.
When Elrond found the two, he pulled a flailing Estel off Anterrabae. "Estel!" he admonished. "You are not a savage and you are not to act like one!"
"He started it!" Estel protested. "It was his fault, anyway. I would have left him alone if he had not--"
"I started nothing, Lord Elrond," a bloodied Anterrabae said, shakily getting to his feet. "Estel attacked me."
"Is this true?" Elrond asked Estel.
"Yes, sir," Estel replied, shame burning up his cheeks. He had attacked Anterrabae. It was entirely his fault.
"Estel," Elrond said, clearly angry but trying not to show it, "please go to your room."
"But Ada--" Estel whined, but Elrond interrupted him.
"I am not asking, Estel."
"Yes, sir." Estel hung his head as he slunk out of the room. Anterrabae did his best not to laugh.
**
It took a good five hours for Estel to feel sorry for what he had done. Once he stopped thinking angry thoughts, he began to realize that he had done wrong. Once he realized he was wrong, his pride stopped him from being willing to apologize. As soon as his pride had worn down, a pyjama-pants- clad boy slipped out into the corridor.
It was dark, well after Estel's bedtime, perhaps ten o'clock at night. However, Estel was nearly a teenager. He knew well enough that the world did not go to sleep when he did, and was more or less certain that Elrond did not go to sleep for many hours after his sons' well-enforced bedtime. Oh, how Elladan and Elrohir grumbled about that!
Estel paused outside Elrond's study. He was about to knock when he heard voices from within. "I do not know what got into him," Elrond was saying. "Estel is a good boy, he usually does not fight with others. Something serious must have happened to make him attack that boy."
"Perhaps he just wants attention. Remember how Arwen used to get into quarrels when she was jealous of the boys?" That was Glorfindel speaking.
"It hardly seems likely. Estel cowers at the very mention of trouble."
'I do not!' Estel mouthed angrily. He was not some little boy--not in his opinion, at least--who shook at the merest mention of authority. Having heard enough, Estel crept away, forgetting his intentions. He would apologize tomorrow.
"I just do not know what to do, Glorfindel," Elrond concluded. "Clearly something is upsetting Estel very badly, and I have to discern a way to discover what it is, and at the same time make him understand that fighting is wrong, without losing my head."
"That boy was rather beat-up, Elrond," Glorfindel said warily. "Maybe the boy--"
"Call him by his name, Glorfindel, he is a person."
"All I am saying is that he might not be as upset as you make him out to be."
**
That night, Estel had an idea. It was not brilliant, but it seemed that way to him. It would solve all his problems. . .
*****
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Self-mutilation may not enter for another chapter or two, but I want to set the scene first. Oh, did anyone catch the allusion in this chapter? I would like to know if you did.