Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters
and/or places thereof.
Saera: O.k., o.k.!
Starfish of the Elves: I understand your concerns. However, this story was written for a girl who is very, very dark, and what the Elves did to Estel is similar to what the other children used to do to her. However, you will see that in the end of this story, the Elflings do realize that what they did was wrong and they do apologize. Mostly they were following Anterrabae, who was very insecure himself.
*****
"Estel, please. . ." Elrond reached out to caress the boy, but Estel drew away. Almost two years. . .Estel knew it well, and Elrond realized it for the first time. Shortly after he stopped fighting, Estel had stopped allowing himself to be touched. "How did you hurt your hand?" Elrond asked once more, and Estel burst into hysterics.
It was another thing he had missed: crying. Another thing he had been unable to do. Now his tears ran wild, and he was ashamed of them. Estel curled into a ball, hugging the wall and trying to be as tiny as possible. "I'm sorry," he half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. "I cannot tell. . .I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. . ."
*****
Estel awoke tired and weak. He knew not why either emotion had come to him, for it had been a deep and dreamless sleep. "Perhaps I only wish to return to my sleep," Estel muttered as he splashed water on his face, trying to wake himself up. It was in doing this that he remembered his earlier actions.
"No. . ." he moaned. "All right," he said with resolve, calming himself. "I am going to tell Ada. I will tell him today, as soon as I get the chance, and then this will all be over."
"Tell him? How will that help you?" it was that awful Voice again, the one Estel had hoped never to hear. "You have failed him. He no longer loves you. You lost that privilege, by not keeping your hands clean of blood."
"I will apologize," Estel replied, suddenly unsure. "I will tell him that what I did was wrong, and that I am sorry for it. Surely he will understand." The Voice did not reply, but laughed as though it highly doubted Estel's plan. "It hardly matters what you think," he replied, then dressed and left the room, hoping to leave the Voice behind.
The morning passed quickly for Estel, whose palms sweated with fear. Though he had resolved to tell Elrond and he meant to, a part of him was still quite afraid and uncertain of this plan. When at last Estel found a moment, and the courage, to speak up, this meeker side won out. "Ada?" Estel asked quietly.
"Yes?" Elrond replied. His voice was normal, but the look in his eyes was so cold that Estel shuddered.
"Never mind. . ." he muttered, walking away slowly, at first, then picking up the pace and running. He stopped only when he had burst into his room, panting, and closed the door behind him. Sure of his privacy Estel sank to the ground, burying his head in his knees and shaking with something between anger at himself and severe disappointment. "I tried, I tried to do the right thing," he whispered.
"But you could not."
"Not you! Go away, leave me alone!"
"But do you not see, Estel? I am all you have left. Without me, you really are alone."
Estel shuddered once more. The Voice spoke true. . ."Why does no one care for me any longer? Things were not always this way. Once I had a family. Now all I have is you, and I wish I did not have you." Estel's life was sadder as he reflected upon it and his current situation.
"My but you are pathetic," the Voice agreed. Estel suddenly felt something boil up within him. It could have been anger, for it was similar, but it was stronger than that, deeper. It hurt in his chest and took up the space where the air belonged. He could no longer stand it. With an animalistic cry he grabbed his knife and slashed a deep mark onto his leg.
Once this was done he felt drained. Sweat matted his hair to his head as if in great exertion, and his chest heaved with every heavy breath his took. His teeth ground against each other. His shoulders moved quickly up and down, in rhythm with his chest. All of him seemed to be very, very cold and burning hot at once. "You see? Elrond will be no help to you. . .look how you are only thinking about him."
Estel nodded as he mopped the blood from his new cut. He did not realize that he was listening intently to the Voice speak, but he heard every word it said.
**
It would be a week before Estel attempted again to speak to Elrond about his "problem". Not once more had he taken a blade to his own flesh, so that he had given himself two cuts, which were now healing. He had worn long pants and sleeves to cover the incriminating evidence. When he was ready, he would tell Elrond and perhaps the twins, and they would help him--but not before he was ready.
This time he wrote a note, hoping that if he did not have to speak he would not be frightened out of action. In the dead of night--or as close as Estel could approximate, for the moon was high in the sky--Estel crept down a corridor which he recalled being considerably shorter. The door which he knew led to Elrond's study seemed to be not a simple fifteen paces but a mile or more--and Estel, at last, reached his destination! Trembling, he pushed the note under the door, then he bolted.
The rest of that night Estel hid beneath the sheets, shivering like mad. "At least I no longer have to tell anyone," Estel thought, "at least the secret is out." When he finally did fall asleep, he was curled into a ball like a cat, his thumb in his mouth, a habit he had dropped years ago. He awoke stretched out, feeling greatly relieved.
Estel overslept, and subsequently found himself having missed breakfast by nearly two hours. With this in mind he decided Elrond must know by now about his. . .mishap, and happily got out of bed and went to find Elrond. This would be a difficult discussion, likely the most difficult of his life, but at least he could get it over with--and get that Voice away from him once and or all. Though it had not done him wrong yet, something inside warned him against that disembodied Voice.
"Ada, Ada!" Estel cried, scurrying down the corridor once more. This day seemed to shorten the corridor, and Estel burst into Elrond's study at once. "Ada!" he cried once more.
Elrond looked up, surprised. "Estel? Is something the matter?"
Estel's heart sank. He noticed that his note was still on the floor, beneath his feet now. He swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. Nothing is. I. . .I am just fine. . ." in one fluid motion he stooped to pick up the note and was out the door, slamming it behind him. 'Elrond probably hates me,' he thought. 'Let him!'
Back in his room Estel buried the note deep inside of his pillowcase. "See if I ever trust you again, you stupid Elf," he muttered angrily, punching the pillow before he knew what he was doing. "You could have. . .stopped this. . .feeling. But you. . .did not. . .even. . .notice!" Feathers flew as he hit harder and harder. One tickled his nose and he stopped, sneezing himself back to his senses.
"Estel? Who do you speak to?"
Estel whirled around to see Elladan standing, leaning against the doorframe. "Do you know that it is polite to knock?" he asked irritably.
"You left the door open," Elladan replied, not argumentative but simply corrective. "I am only concerned for your welfare--"
"You still ought to have knocked," Estel interrupted.
"All right, Estel. If it will make you happy, I shall leave and knock, all right?" Elladan backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Estel jumped to his feet, crossed the room as fast as he could, and locked the door just as Elladan knocked. "May I come in?"
"No," Estel replied coldly. "Keep out."
Saera: O.k., o.k.!
Starfish of the Elves: I understand your concerns. However, this story was written for a girl who is very, very dark, and what the Elves did to Estel is similar to what the other children used to do to her. However, you will see that in the end of this story, the Elflings do realize that what they did was wrong and they do apologize. Mostly they were following Anterrabae, who was very insecure himself.
*****
"Estel, please. . ." Elrond reached out to caress the boy, but Estel drew away. Almost two years. . .Estel knew it well, and Elrond realized it for the first time. Shortly after he stopped fighting, Estel had stopped allowing himself to be touched. "How did you hurt your hand?" Elrond asked once more, and Estel burst into hysterics.
It was another thing he had missed: crying. Another thing he had been unable to do. Now his tears ran wild, and he was ashamed of them. Estel curled into a ball, hugging the wall and trying to be as tiny as possible. "I'm sorry," he half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. "I cannot tell. . .I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. . ."
*****
Estel awoke tired and weak. He knew not why either emotion had come to him, for it had been a deep and dreamless sleep. "Perhaps I only wish to return to my sleep," Estel muttered as he splashed water on his face, trying to wake himself up. It was in doing this that he remembered his earlier actions.
"No. . ." he moaned. "All right," he said with resolve, calming himself. "I am going to tell Ada. I will tell him today, as soon as I get the chance, and then this will all be over."
"Tell him? How will that help you?" it was that awful Voice again, the one Estel had hoped never to hear. "You have failed him. He no longer loves you. You lost that privilege, by not keeping your hands clean of blood."
"I will apologize," Estel replied, suddenly unsure. "I will tell him that what I did was wrong, and that I am sorry for it. Surely he will understand." The Voice did not reply, but laughed as though it highly doubted Estel's plan. "It hardly matters what you think," he replied, then dressed and left the room, hoping to leave the Voice behind.
The morning passed quickly for Estel, whose palms sweated with fear. Though he had resolved to tell Elrond and he meant to, a part of him was still quite afraid and uncertain of this plan. When at last Estel found a moment, and the courage, to speak up, this meeker side won out. "Ada?" Estel asked quietly.
"Yes?" Elrond replied. His voice was normal, but the look in his eyes was so cold that Estel shuddered.
"Never mind. . ." he muttered, walking away slowly, at first, then picking up the pace and running. He stopped only when he had burst into his room, panting, and closed the door behind him. Sure of his privacy Estel sank to the ground, burying his head in his knees and shaking with something between anger at himself and severe disappointment. "I tried, I tried to do the right thing," he whispered.
"But you could not."
"Not you! Go away, leave me alone!"
"But do you not see, Estel? I am all you have left. Without me, you really are alone."
Estel shuddered once more. The Voice spoke true. . ."Why does no one care for me any longer? Things were not always this way. Once I had a family. Now all I have is you, and I wish I did not have you." Estel's life was sadder as he reflected upon it and his current situation.
"My but you are pathetic," the Voice agreed. Estel suddenly felt something boil up within him. It could have been anger, for it was similar, but it was stronger than that, deeper. It hurt in his chest and took up the space where the air belonged. He could no longer stand it. With an animalistic cry he grabbed his knife and slashed a deep mark onto his leg.
Once this was done he felt drained. Sweat matted his hair to his head as if in great exertion, and his chest heaved with every heavy breath his took. His teeth ground against each other. His shoulders moved quickly up and down, in rhythm with his chest. All of him seemed to be very, very cold and burning hot at once. "You see? Elrond will be no help to you. . .look how you are only thinking about him."
Estel nodded as he mopped the blood from his new cut. He did not realize that he was listening intently to the Voice speak, but he heard every word it said.
**
It would be a week before Estel attempted again to speak to Elrond about his "problem". Not once more had he taken a blade to his own flesh, so that he had given himself two cuts, which were now healing. He had worn long pants and sleeves to cover the incriminating evidence. When he was ready, he would tell Elrond and perhaps the twins, and they would help him--but not before he was ready.
This time he wrote a note, hoping that if he did not have to speak he would not be frightened out of action. In the dead of night--or as close as Estel could approximate, for the moon was high in the sky--Estel crept down a corridor which he recalled being considerably shorter. The door which he knew led to Elrond's study seemed to be not a simple fifteen paces but a mile or more--and Estel, at last, reached his destination! Trembling, he pushed the note under the door, then he bolted.
The rest of that night Estel hid beneath the sheets, shivering like mad. "At least I no longer have to tell anyone," Estel thought, "at least the secret is out." When he finally did fall asleep, he was curled into a ball like a cat, his thumb in his mouth, a habit he had dropped years ago. He awoke stretched out, feeling greatly relieved.
Estel overslept, and subsequently found himself having missed breakfast by nearly two hours. With this in mind he decided Elrond must know by now about his. . .mishap, and happily got out of bed and went to find Elrond. This would be a difficult discussion, likely the most difficult of his life, but at least he could get it over with--and get that Voice away from him once and or all. Though it had not done him wrong yet, something inside warned him against that disembodied Voice.
"Ada, Ada!" Estel cried, scurrying down the corridor once more. This day seemed to shorten the corridor, and Estel burst into Elrond's study at once. "Ada!" he cried once more.
Elrond looked up, surprised. "Estel? Is something the matter?"
Estel's heart sank. He noticed that his note was still on the floor, beneath his feet now. He swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. Nothing is. I. . .I am just fine. . ." in one fluid motion he stooped to pick up the note and was out the door, slamming it behind him. 'Elrond probably hates me,' he thought. 'Let him!'
Back in his room Estel buried the note deep inside of his pillowcase. "See if I ever trust you again, you stupid Elf," he muttered angrily, punching the pillow before he knew what he was doing. "You could have. . .stopped this. . .feeling. But you. . .did not. . .even. . .notice!" Feathers flew as he hit harder and harder. One tickled his nose and he stopped, sneezing himself back to his senses.
"Estel? Who do you speak to?"
Estel whirled around to see Elladan standing, leaning against the doorframe. "Do you know that it is polite to knock?" he asked irritably.
"You left the door open," Elladan replied, not argumentative but simply corrective. "I am only concerned for your welfare--"
"You still ought to have knocked," Estel interrupted.
"All right, Estel. If it will make you happy, I shall leave and knock, all right?" Elladan backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Estel jumped to his feet, crossed the room as fast as he could, and locked the door just as Elladan knocked. "May I come in?"
"No," Estel replied coldly. "Keep out."