Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters
and/or places
KitKatGirl: Actually, the allusion was the name Anterrabae, originally seen in Hannah Green's I Never Promised You a Rose Garden. Thanks for reviewing!
*****
"Ada, Estel is hurt," Elladan said. Estel was lying on his bed where Elladan had left him, unconscious, tears falling from his eyes and his hand cradled to his chest.
Elrond looked up at once, alarmed. "Hurt how?" he asked.
"I cannot say," Elladan replied, "but he seems to be in a lot of pain."
*****
Estel gave his idea of fair warning. "Leave me alone," he said, "or else." After that he did not speak to the Elflings, did not taunt them or try to aggravate them. This courtesy, however, was not repaid. The Elflings set in at once, teasing about how a "round-eared mutt" could do nothing, and what was he going to do, tell on them?
The mortal boy waited until things got so bad he could not take it. His blood boiled and he sprang to his feet. "I warned you," he said, and he punched the nearest boy in the face. Because no one expected this of Estel, the "wimp", this was the second time someone was caught off guard. None of them had seen Anterrabae yet, either.
A fight with one boy is one thing, but a fight with a group. . .that's another thing altogether. Estel was pounding away at his chosen opponent when strong hands lifted him off the Elfling. He hardly knew what was going on until a blow to his stomach forced him to double over in pain--or would have, had he not been held up.
Half an hour later Estel picked himself up off the ground, a stream of blood dribbling from his mouth. "I must look awful," he muttered, and he felt equally horrid. Walking was difficult for him, but leaning against walls and trees he managed, stumbling down a corridor in a dizzy state. "Ada?" Estel asked, pausing in a doorway. He did not know where he was, but he had heard voices.
Lord Elrond, conversing with his twin sons, turned, not expecting Estel's physically state to reflect the worn tone of his voice. Their eyes met for a moment before Estel slumped to the ground, conscious but exhausted. "Estel, what happened?" Elrond asked.
"I fell down," Estel lied. "A lot of stairs," he added, grabbing at a pain in his side. Elrond frowned, knowing well that Estel did not fall down a flight of stairs, but Estel was hurt rather badly.
"Now, Estel," Elrond said after tending to all the wounds Estel could identify, and some he was numb to. "You lost rather badly. They must have outnumbered you."
"The stairs?" Estel asked. "Twenty to one, I would guess." He knew that Elrond was trying to get him to admit it, or trip up and say something wrong, but he would not let that happen. He had to face this, to deal with it, on his own.
"Come now, Estel, I know exactly what happened," Elrond said.
"That is because I told you, Ada: I tripped and fell down the stairs." When Estel was younger, Elladan had told him about this lie. 'I used it,' Elladan said, 'so did Elrohir. Glorfindel, in fact, used it in his childhood. It is ages old, and will never abandon you.'
"You do not need to lie to me, Estel." This was even more unbelievable than when Arwen and the twins had claimed that the same reason caused them to come in with bruises forming, despite the fact that it would take a very hard shove to get an Elf off their balance.
"I am not lying to you, Ada," Estel replied, his voice somehow innocent.
This went on for days. Elrond did everything he could to keep Estel from fighting--for he knew that it was fights that battered him up so badly. Imposing a curfew was no good, for Estel seemed to be able to get into three fights before the day had even begun. By the time Elrond realized that Estel was breaking curfew regularly, anyway, another change had taken place: Estel was beginning to win more and more fights.
Curfew did not help, and neither did extra studies--Estel's mental abilities seemed to be decreasing, in fact. Everything had to be explained to him over and over again, until he at last caught on--but when he did catch on, everything seemed as easy and as natural as breathing.
"What should I do, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked in despair. "The more I try, the more he seems to fight. Now Estel is getting better at fighting, and Elladan wants to teach him even more!" Why was it that Elven children and Edain had such different problems? Elrond knew what to do for the problems his sons had faced, and the many that Arwen had encountered but. . .
Glorfindel shook his head. What trouble children were! "Look at what happens, Elrond. When you are attentive, he fights more. He only wants your attention. If you stopped giving him what he wanted, perhaps he in turn would stop fighting when he realized it was useless. Estel is a smart child."
"Then how do you account for his studies?" Elrond asked, amused. Of course, Estel's studies were another problem--the boy who was at first eager to learn Quenya now seemed to be forgetting it!
But Glorfindel again had an answer. "Who is helping him study?"
"It is not as though I can simply shut him out."
"No, but you could show him that positive attention and negative attention are different things."
"How you know all this is completely beyond me, Glorfindel, but I am glad you do," Elrond replied.
Glorfindel smirked. "I had a friend once, who had six children. Can you imagine?"
Elrond rested his head in his hands. "Three is plenty!"
**
Estel won his next fight. His eye was swelling, bruises were forming on his chest, and blood poured from his lip, but he had won. The other boys had scattered when Anterrabae fell, none of them relishing the idea of the trouble connected with fights.
Proudly, if limping, Estel made his way inside. When Elrond saw him he did not sigh or ask questions as he usually did, but took care of Estel's wounds without saying a word. "I won," Estel said, trying to get some response. "I smashed Anterrabae's face to a bloody pulp, and knocked him unconscious." Still no reply. "Maybe I killed him."
Estel was baffled by the lack of response. He always got in trouble for being in fights, which always satisfied his cravings for attention. This time he had even admitted it, and nothing had happened. What was he doing wrong?
The next day Estel lost in a fight, and still no response. He admitted to losing, he even named the Elflings involved in the fight, but there was no reply to any of it. 'Well, if Ada does not care about my fights,' Estel resolved as he lay awake one night, 'then I shall simply stop having them.'
But things were not that simple. Estel may have wanted to resolve his conflicts with words, but the other Elflings wanted to resolve their conflicts with fists. They were used to Estel the fighter, and not about to accept Estel the diplomat.
"What, now your /Ada/ is not letting you fight?" Anterrabae squawked. Estel ignored him. "Can you not speak? Or have you just realized that you are so lowly, as compared to us, that your speech is unworthy?"
That was too much. It had gotten to the point that Estel would not take it. He sprang from his position on the rafter, slamming hard into Anterrabae. The two fought for what seemed like hours, first one winning then the other. Finally Anterrabae released his prey and stood, Estel too exhausted to even move.
Elrond could think of nothing to do. He had not seen the fights, but he knew they were still taking place. His son bore the scars to prove this. At a loss, he decided to confront Estel about it directly.
"Estel?" Elrond called quietly, knocking on the door to Estel's room. "Estel, may I come in please?" When there was no response, a slightly hurt Elrond opened the door anyway, closing it behind him before moving forward to sit on the edge of Estel's bed. The lump under the covers that was Estel seemed to tighten. "Why are you doing this?" Elrond asked.
Estel did not respond. 'If I am asleep, he will go away, if I am asleep, he will go away. . .' Estel thought over and over.
"I know you are awake."
Estel rolled over, sticking his head slightly out from beneath the covers. "I have not fought with anyone since Anterrabae, two days ago." It was true. By much time in solitude, Estel had managed not to fight once. Elrond smiled.
"I know. I am very proud of you."
"Ada!" Estel exclaimed suddenly, in a blur flying to Elrond and hugging the Elf. He had noticed! All at once Estel realized that it felt so much better being hugged for something he had done right than it did to be spanked for something he had done wrong, and he began to cry and could not stop.
"You understand, then, that it is wrong to use violence to resolve a conflict? And in the future you will try not to do this?" Elrond asked.
"Yes, yes, I will try," Estel promised. Silently, he added to himself, 'And I will succeed.'
*****
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.
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.
.
.
.
Mwu ha ha! That's all for now, but there's more coming. Don't worry, things may be looking up for the little guy now, but. . .well, I don't want to spoil it!
KitKatGirl: Actually, the allusion was the name Anterrabae, originally seen in Hannah Green's I Never Promised You a Rose Garden. Thanks for reviewing!
*****
"Ada, Estel is hurt," Elladan said. Estel was lying on his bed where Elladan had left him, unconscious, tears falling from his eyes and his hand cradled to his chest.
Elrond looked up at once, alarmed. "Hurt how?" he asked.
"I cannot say," Elladan replied, "but he seems to be in a lot of pain."
*****
Estel gave his idea of fair warning. "Leave me alone," he said, "or else." After that he did not speak to the Elflings, did not taunt them or try to aggravate them. This courtesy, however, was not repaid. The Elflings set in at once, teasing about how a "round-eared mutt" could do nothing, and what was he going to do, tell on them?
The mortal boy waited until things got so bad he could not take it. His blood boiled and he sprang to his feet. "I warned you," he said, and he punched the nearest boy in the face. Because no one expected this of Estel, the "wimp", this was the second time someone was caught off guard. None of them had seen Anterrabae yet, either.
A fight with one boy is one thing, but a fight with a group. . .that's another thing altogether. Estel was pounding away at his chosen opponent when strong hands lifted him off the Elfling. He hardly knew what was going on until a blow to his stomach forced him to double over in pain--or would have, had he not been held up.
Half an hour later Estel picked himself up off the ground, a stream of blood dribbling from his mouth. "I must look awful," he muttered, and he felt equally horrid. Walking was difficult for him, but leaning against walls and trees he managed, stumbling down a corridor in a dizzy state. "Ada?" Estel asked, pausing in a doorway. He did not know where he was, but he had heard voices.
Lord Elrond, conversing with his twin sons, turned, not expecting Estel's physically state to reflect the worn tone of his voice. Their eyes met for a moment before Estel slumped to the ground, conscious but exhausted. "Estel, what happened?" Elrond asked.
"I fell down," Estel lied. "A lot of stairs," he added, grabbing at a pain in his side. Elrond frowned, knowing well that Estel did not fall down a flight of stairs, but Estel was hurt rather badly.
"Now, Estel," Elrond said after tending to all the wounds Estel could identify, and some he was numb to. "You lost rather badly. They must have outnumbered you."
"The stairs?" Estel asked. "Twenty to one, I would guess." He knew that Elrond was trying to get him to admit it, or trip up and say something wrong, but he would not let that happen. He had to face this, to deal with it, on his own.
"Come now, Estel, I know exactly what happened," Elrond said.
"That is because I told you, Ada: I tripped and fell down the stairs." When Estel was younger, Elladan had told him about this lie. 'I used it,' Elladan said, 'so did Elrohir. Glorfindel, in fact, used it in his childhood. It is ages old, and will never abandon you.'
"You do not need to lie to me, Estel." This was even more unbelievable than when Arwen and the twins had claimed that the same reason caused them to come in with bruises forming, despite the fact that it would take a very hard shove to get an Elf off their balance.
"I am not lying to you, Ada," Estel replied, his voice somehow innocent.
This went on for days. Elrond did everything he could to keep Estel from fighting--for he knew that it was fights that battered him up so badly. Imposing a curfew was no good, for Estel seemed to be able to get into three fights before the day had even begun. By the time Elrond realized that Estel was breaking curfew regularly, anyway, another change had taken place: Estel was beginning to win more and more fights.
Curfew did not help, and neither did extra studies--Estel's mental abilities seemed to be decreasing, in fact. Everything had to be explained to him over and over again, until he at last caught on--but when he did catch on, everything seemed as easy and as natural as breathing.
"What should I do, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked in despair. "The more I try, the more he seems to fight. Now Estel is getting better at fighting, and Elladan wants to teach him even more!" Why was it that Elven children and Edain had such different problems? Elrond knew what to do for the problems his sons had faced, and the many that Arwen had encountered but. . .
Glorfindel shook his head. What trouble children were! "Look at what happens, Elrond. When you are attentive, he fights more. He only wants your attention. If you stopped giving him what he wanted, perhaps he in turn would stop fighting when he realized it was useless. Estel is a smart child."
"Then how do you account for his studies?" Elrond asked, amused. Of course, Estel's studies were another problem--the boy who was at first eager to learn Quenya now seemed to be forgetting it!
But Glorfindel again had an answer. "Who is helping him study?"
"It is not as though I can simply shut him out."
"No, but you could show him that positive attention and negative attention are different things."
"How you know all this is completely beyond me, Glorfindel, but I am glad you do," Elrond replied.
Glorfindel smirked. "I had a friend once, who had six children. Can you imagine?"
Elrond rested his head in his hands. "Three is plenty!"
**
Estel won his next fight. His eye was swelling, bruises were forming on his chest, and blood poured from his lip, but he had won. The other boys had scattered when Anterrabae fell, none of them relishing the idea of the trouble connected with fights.
Proudly, if limping, Estel made his way inside. When Elrond saw him he did not sigh or ask questions as he usually did, but took care of Estel's wounds without saying a word. "I won," Estel said, trying to get some response. "I smashed Anterrabae's face to a bloody pulp, and knocked him unconscious." Still no reply. "Maybe I killed him."
Estel was baffled by the lack of response. He always got in trouble for being in fights, which always satisfied his cravings for attention. This time he had even admitted it, and nothing had happened. What was he doing wrong?
The next day Estel lost in a fight, and still no response. He admitted to losing, he even named the Elflings involved in the fight, but there was no reply to any of it. 'Well, if Ada does not care about my fights,' Estel resolved as he lay awake one night, 'then I shall simply stop having them.'
But things were not that simple. Estel may have wanted to resolve his conflicts with words, but the other Elflings wanted to resolve their conflicts with fists. They were used to Estel the fighter, and not about to accept Estel the diplomat.
"What, now your /Ada/ is not letting you fight?" Anterrabae squawked. Estel ignored him. "Can you not speak? Or have you just realized that you are so lowly, as compared to us, that your speech is unworthy?"
That was too much. It had gotten to the point that Estel would not take it. He sprang from his position on the rafter, slamming hard into Anterrabae. The two fought for what seemed like hours, first one winning then the other. Finally Anterrabae released his prey and stood, Estel too exhausted to even move.
Elrond could think of nothing to do. He had not seen the fights, but he knew they were still taking place. His son bore the scars to prove this. At a loss, he decided to confront Estel about it directly.
"Estel?" Elrond called quietly, knocking on the door to Estel's room. "Estel, may I come in please?" When there was no response, a slightly hurt Elrond opened the door anyway, closing it behind him before moving forward to sit on the edge of Estel's bed. The lump under the covers that was Estel seemed to tighten. "Why are you doing this?" Elrond asked.
Estel did not respond. 'If I am asleep, he will go away, if I am asleep, he will go away. . .' Estel thought over and over.
"I know you are awake."
Estel rolled over, sticking his head slightly out from beneath the covers. "I have not fought with anyone since Anterrabae, two days ago." It was true. By much time in solitude, Estel had managed not to fight once. Elrond smiled.
"I know. I am very proud of you."
"Ada!" Estel exclaimed suddenly, in a blur flying to Elrond and hugging the Elf. He had noticed! All at once Estel realized that it felt so much better being hugged for something he had done right than it did to be spanked for something he had done wrong, and he began to cry and could not stop.
"You understand, then, that it is wrong to use violence to resolve a conflict? And in the future you will try not to do this?" Elrond asked.
"Yes, yes, I will try," Estel promised. Silently, he added to himself, 'And I will succeed.'
*****
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Mwu ha ha! That's all for now, but there's more coming. Don't worry, things may be looking up for the little guy now, but. . .well, I don't want to spoil it!