Disclaimer: Too lazy. See earlier chapter.
KitKatGirl: Well, vitamins are good for you--you ought to take them (heh, I'm not anyone to talk). Estel's "control" was in self-injury. He was justifying it, which cutters often do. Of course I'm still going to update!
Saera: Wait. . .kill us AND eat us alive? Oh, one by the other, right? Not in that order, of course. What bunnies?
Nihtfyr: No, that wasn't the end. Thanks. I don't see any problem with Mary- Sues, if people like to read them, but I do not try to write them myself. He didn't "go around cutting himself just because he was teased". I don't mind that you call him OOC, that's kinda the point (how complete healing can be), but it wasn't just the teasing. In part it was, of course, because when you are in a situation like that it really does hurt. My friend in America went through something like it years ago, and she still suffers the consequences today. Estel was also cutting because he was so disappointed in himself for disappointing Elrond. Cutting is a release.
Blackbird: Thanks. I haven't, either, so this story is really just a shot in the dark. The word is actually caught, not catched--I'm not trying to be mean, just helpful. Your bio says you don't know English that well. Cool name, by the way. Probably not after the song?
Jessie-Greenleaf: Thanks! Ah, reading. . .so nice. . .evil school assigning too much homework. Know any good young-Estel fics?
Lady of the Forest: Thanks. It must be, for him to have something to rely on. Even having a twin can be nice, I know from experience--Casey and I may fight, but when we do get on, we're not quite Elladan and Elrohir, but maybe Daisy and Demi (Little Men). Estel, however, would be an odd entrance, because one must imagine that Elladan and Elrohir are very close. If they can welcome Estel into their circle without any jealousy or anything, that would be amazing--I imagine they did a wonderful job of it, too.
*****
"Estel," Elladan said gently. When his brother did not turn to him, and only responded with a shake of his body, Elladan climbed beside him on the bed. Estel tried to shrink away, but Elladan scooted carefully next to him, gently extending his arm and holding the mortal. "Shh. . ."
"Elladan. . ."
"What is it, brother? I told you before that I do not like to see you hurting. We love you, Estel. We want to help."
"Why? Do you love me, that is. Why."
Elladan did not reply, but shook his brother gently, keeping an arm around him. Turning to Elrohir, Elladan mouthed a single word. Elrohir nodded, and turned from the room, leaving the two together. "Oh, Estel," Elladan sighed, laying his head on the other boy's shoulder.
*****
"What are you doing?" Estel heard a voice asked. A feeling of dread came over him, as his first thought was, 'Ada.' The last thing he needed was trouble, the last thing he wanted. . .all though, he had to admit, he felt a lot better now that Anterrabae wasn't pummeling him. "Did you hear me? I asked you what you were doing." It wasn't Elrond. He didn't get angry like that. Estel opened one eye slowly, and was surprised to see Elladan standing with his shoulders rounded and turned in, looking fully frightening, talking to Anterrabae.
"I was just playing," Anterrabae said. "It is a game." Does that work? Estel wondered. He had heard 'I fell down the stairs', but never that it was just a game. Elladan did not look pleased, but Anterrabae really sealed things when he said, "What do you care, anyway? He's only a mortal."
"Only a--only a mortal? That mortal is my brother. And if I ever see you hit him again, if I ever hear of you hitting him again, you will have to deal with me. And yes, I am bigger than you, and yes, I am stronger than you. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted. So do not ever touch my brother again, am I clear?"
Anterrabae nodded. He was afraid to move. The two stood for a moment, staring each other down, then Elladan twitched and Anterrabae ran. Elladan cackled and turned to Estel, still lying on the ground, to offer a hand. "Are you all right?"
"Why did you do that?" Estel asked, brushing the dust from the front of him and Elladan brushed off his back. "You don't need to protect me, I am not a young child and can look out for myself."
"I dislike seeing anyone hurt you."
"Why?" Estel asked not out of impudence or rebellion for rebellion's sake, but curiosity.
"Because, Estel. . . " Elladan reached out to touch his cheek and Estel drew back. He was uncomfortable with physical contact, with anybody. Elladan's face darkened and his hand dropped. You know, he wanted to say, we love you, Estel. You know Elrohir and I and even Ada love you, and we care about you. What is it, Estel? What's happened to you? But all he said was, "Come on. We might miss it if we are late."
"Miss what? Elladan, miss what?" Estel asked as Elladan turned and slowly walked away. Estel followed, wondering, but not asking. There was a loaded silence between the two. Elladan stopped at the foot of a tree, and motioned for Estel to climb up. "How high?" Elladan shrugged and tapped a branch near his face. Estel, being considerably shorter, scrambled up. Once he was safely on the branch, Elladan followed.
Elladan took the bag from over his shoulder and took out a knife and a watermelon. He cut off a piece and offered it to Estel, who took it gratefully. Estel held the watermelon in one hand and the tree in the other, then opened his mouth and buried his face in the fruit. The juice spilled over and ran onto his tunic and pants, left sticky trails on his face. Elladan was smiling at him. "Why did we come here?" Estel asked.
"To see the sun set," Elladan replied.
"Why?"
"To be reminded that the day is ending, so a new one might begin. Most Elves, they don't realize that each day we live is a gift. Each moment we have, to exist, to smile, to laugh, to cry, each moment is a true gift. One we should be thankful for, really, especially the moments we have to be with the people we love. Some of them. . .they might not be around for ever." Elladan stared off at the horizon as he spoke. Estel looked at his brother, who cried without tears, it seemed. Then Estel cried one single solitary tear, without sobs or any fuss, let it drip down from his cheek, and sat beside his brother until the stars came out.
Back in his room, Estel could not bear to look in the mirror as he changed into his pyjamas. His healing wounds were not the badges they had been the night before, his "solution" no longer a true solution. "I want you gone," he said to the Voice. "Gone for good, and I mean it."
"Estel. . .so young. So naïve," the Voice mocked. "Can you get on without me? Can you get on without your control?" After this last, drawn-out word, Estel noticed what he held in his hand. It was a knife. The blade was dull, but it would still do the work. "Go on, give it a whirl," the Voice said.
"N-no!" Estel replied, fumbling at first, then his voice became level and sure. "I no longer need you, I will not turn to you for help any more."
"All right. It looks as though you have won this time, my friend, Just one final time, for old times' sake? Just one quick good-by?"
"No. No, not just one. Not one quick good-by. You ask for a good-by? Good- by. There, you have had it. Now leave, leave me be and never come back, ever, not to visit, not to check up on me. I never want to see you again, do you understand? Never again will I hear your Voice."
There was silence, blessed silence. Then, much to Estel's dismay, a laughing sound filled the room. Estel bowed his head as another tear threatened. It felt as though a hurricane were ravaging the room, and he stood in the tiny eye of the storm, buffeted one way or another by winds when the storm had passed over him, now left in the terrible quiet knowing that it was only coming back.
"Th-then, if you will not go of your will, I shall make you," Estel resolved, lifting his head timidly. He gritted his teeth and said, "Leave of your own will, or stay here, and dwindle into nothingness." Estel had grown bold, and by the time he finished his words rang with belief. The Voice seemed to disappear again, as though sucked out of the very air. Estel, drained, fell into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
When he awoke the next morning, Estel saw the world with a new hope in his chest. "If I look right, nothing is too bad. If I look at things the right way, nothing is as bad as I thought," he said in a jumbled happy state.
But things went badly that day, for when one is trying a new style one must try very hard at it, and sometimes that trying can be very difficult. Estel learned this at breakfast as he dropped a pitcher, which clattered loudly to the ground, causing the boy to flinch. "All right, all right, calm down," he told himself. "Just a little thing. . ." Which it was, of course, for Estel was growing rapidly and unused to the exact form of his body.
Estel missed the target he and Elrohir were shooting at as they practiced their archery that afternoon. His studies in mathematics had been going badly for weeks, and he could hardly untangle himself from the web of numbers with which he was faced. Nothing seemed to go rightly. By supper, Estel was exhausted from looking on the bright side all day. When he was asked to please pass something, he did not even hear the request fully. He handed over the first thing he grabbed.
"Estel, that is a potato."
"What? Ohh. . ." Estel tiredly corrected his mistake, irked by the smiles of his brothers at his mistake.
"How are your studies coming along?" asked Elrond, genuinely interested, because he was worried by Estel's lack of progress.
"I. . ." Estel searched for the right words to say, anything to account for his having come to such a complete stop. "I. . ."
"You haven't improved, have you?" Elrond asked almost tiredly. It is not that he had unreasonable expectations, but he did expect something of his sons, and Estel's mind had started off quite quick. Why, now, did he slow? Was he just not trying enough? "If you would only half apply yourself--"
"I do!" Estel interrupted. "I really try!"
"Then why are you not getting anywhere?"
"Because it's really hard!" Estel was almost shouting then, very upset that his intellect be called into question, and having reached the very end of his tether.
"There is no need to raise your voice, Estel," said Elrond, calmly yet managing to convey anger.
"If you would but listen--"
"I am listening--"
"You are not! If you were listening you would let me speak!" Estel jumped to his feet, overturning his chair in the process. "You never listen, but you always say you do! You have to let me talk sometimes! It doesn't do any good just to listen to yourself speak!" He felt quivery inside, and drew in a deep breath. "Listen to this," he said, then turned and walked out of the room.
"That was. . .uncharacteristic," Elrohir commented, turning the attentions of his father and brother to him. He shrugged. "It was. No need to worry, Ada, it is only frustration. He did not mean what he said."
Elrond nodded, but did not speak. Had Estel meant his words? Had he meant the tone of them? It was very possible, and Elrond had been worried about him lately, but what could he do? Estel was shutting everybody out. No one could force him to let them in, that was a decision he had to make for himself.
"Ada? Estel is just growing up." Elrond looked up at his identical sons. They were good people, people he was proud of. And, Elrond realized, he was proud of them. They were moral, calm, intelligent Elves. "He will grow through this, also. It is just a phase."
"Well. I hope so."
Estel had had such hope, once. All his hope was scraped together as he stood, his fist clenching and unclenching, his eyes shut tight. "Go away," he sobbed, to no avail. "Go. . .leave me be!" His stomach quivered. His body felt as though it might explode. Estel wished he had not spoken to his father that way--Elrond was someone he loved and respected very much. Why had he gone off like that? He ought to just apologize. . .
But Estel did not apologize. His stomach seemed to drop as he decided on what to do. He dragged the rough edge of the blade across his leg, gasping, loving the pain. When he took the blade away, there was no blood. He had not cut deep enough. Again and again Estel took blade to flesh, resulting in nothing but small scratches.
"Ah!" he shouted, hiding the blade out of sight. All of that, all that trying, being so close and giving up, just for this? Just for a few useless swipes? No blood, even. All of the hurt, just for this? Looking back at his leg, Estel's mouth curled to a smile. Blood had appeared in small red droplets on all six of the new cuts. So there was one thing he did not do so wrong after all.
*****
No, that was NOT the end!! More coming up. Next chapter I've already started, so it should be quick.
KitKatGirl: Well, vitamins are good for you--you ought to take them (heh, I'm not anyone to talk). Estel's "control" was in self-injury. He was justifying it, which cutters often do. Of course I'm still going to update!
Saera: Wait. . .kill us AND eat us alive? Oh, one by the other, right? Not in that order, of course. What bunnies?
Nihtfyr: No, that wasn't the end. Thanks. I don't see any problem with Mary- Sues, if people like to read them, but I do not try to write them myself. He didn't "go around cutting himself just because he was teased". I don't mind that you call him OOC, that's kinda the point (how complete healing can be), but it wasn't just the teasing. In part it was, of course, because when you are in a situation like that it really does hurt. My friend in America went through something like it years ago, and she still suffers the consequences today. Estel was also cutting because he was so disappointed in himself for disappointing Elrond. Cutting is a release.
Blackbird: Thanks. I haven't, either, so this story is really just a shot in the dark. The word is actually caught, not catched--I'm not trying to be mean, just helpful. Your bio says you don't know English that well. Cool name, by the way. Probably not after the song?
Jessie-Greenleaf: Thanks! Ah, reading. . .so nice. . .evil school assigning too much homework. Know any good young-Estel fics?
Lady of the Forest: Thanks. It must be, for him to have something to rely on. Even having a twin can be nice, I know from experience--Casey and I may fight, but when we do get on, we're not quite Elladan and Elrohir, but maybe Daisy and Demi (Little Men). Estel, however, would be an odd entrance, because one must imagine that Elladan and Elrohir are very close. If they can welcome Estel into their circle without any jealousy or anything, that would be amazing--I imagine they did a wonderful job of it, too.
*****
"Estel," Elladan said gently. When his brother did not turn to him, and only responded with a shake of his body, Elladan climbed beside him on the bed. Estel tried to shrink away, but Elladan scooted carefully next to him, gently extending his arm and holding the mortal. "Shh. . ."
"Elladan. . ."
"What is it, brother? I told you before that I do not like to see you hurting. We love you, Estel. We want to help."
"Why? Do you love me, that is. Why."
Elladan did not reply, but shook his brother gently, keeping an arm around him. Turning to Elrohir, Elladan mouthed a single word. Elrohir nodded, and turned from the room, leaving the two together. "Oh, Estel," Elladan sighed, laying his head on the other boy's shoulder.
*****
"What are you doing?" Estel heard a voice asked. A feeling of dread came over him, as his first thought was, 'Ada.' The last thing he needed was trouble, the last thing he wanted. . .all though, he had to admit, he felt a lot better now that Anterrabae wasn't pummeling him. "Did you hear me? I asked you what you were doing." It wasn't Elrond. He didn't get angry like that. Estel opened one eye slowly, and was surprised to see Elladan standing with his shoulders rounded and turned in, looking fully frightening, talking to Anterrabae.
"I was just playing," Anterrabae said. "It is a game." Does that work? Estel wondered. He had heard 'I fell down the stairs', but never that it was just a game. Elladan did not look pleased, but Anterrabae really sealed things when he said, "What do you care, anyway? He's only a mortal."
"Only a--only a mortal? That mortal is my brother. And if I ever see you hit him again, if I ever hear of you hitting him again, you will have to deal with me. And yes, I am bigger than you, and yes, I am stronger than you. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted. So do not ever touch my brother again, am I clear?"
Anterrabae nodded. He was afraid to move. The two stood for a moment, staring each other down, then Elladan twitched and Anterrabae ran. Elladan cackled and turned to Estel, still lying on the ground, to offer a hand. "Are you all right?"
"Why did you do that?" Estel asked, brushing the dust from the front of him and Elladan brushed off his back. "You don't need to protect me, I am not a young child and can look out for myself."
"I dislike seeing anyone hurt you."
"Why?" Estel asked not out of impudence or rebellion for rebellion's sake, but curiosity.
"Because, Estel. . . " Elladan reached out to touch his cheek and Estel drew back. He was uncomfortable with physical contact, with anybody. Elladan's face darkened and his hand dropped. You know, he wanted to say, we love you, Estel. You know Elrohir and I and even Ada love you, and we care about you. What is it, Estel? What's happened to you? But all he said was, "Come on. We might miss it if we are late."
"Miss what? Elladan, miss what?" Estel asked as Elladan turned and slowly walked away. Estel followed, wondering, but not asking. There was a loaded silence between the two. Elladan stopped at the foot of a tree, and motioned for Estel to climb up. "How high?" Elladan shrugged and tapped a branch near his face. Estel, being considerably shorter, scrambled up. Once he was safely on the branch, Elladan followed.
Elladan took the bag from over his shoulder and took out a knife and a watermelon. He cut off a piece and offered it to Estel, who took it gratefully. Estel held the watermelon in one hand and the tree in the other, then opened his mouth and buried his face in the fruit. The juice spilled over and ran onto his tunic and pants, left sticky trails on his face. Elladan was smiling at him. "Why did we come here?" Estel asked.
"To see the sun set," Elladan replied.
"Why?"
"To be reminded that the day is ending, so a new one might begin. Most Elves, they don't realize that each day we live is a gift. Each moment we have, to exist, to smile, to laugh, to cry, each moment is a true gift. One we should be thankful for, really, especially the moments we have to be with the people we love. Some of them. . .they might not be around for ever." Elladan stared off at the horizon as he spoke. Estel looked at his brother, who cried without tears, it seemed. Then Estel cried one single solitary tear, without sobs or any fuss, let it drip down from his cheek, and sat beside his brother until the stars came out.
Back in his room, Estel could not bear to look in the mirror as he changed into his pyjamas. His healing wounds were not the badges they had been the night before, his "solution" no longer a true solution. "I want you gone," he said to the Voice. "Gone for good, and I mean it."
"Estel. . .so young. So naïve," the Voice mocked. "Can you get on without me? Can you get on without your control?" After this last, drawn-out word, Estel noticed what he held in his hand. It was a knife. The blade was dull, but it would still do the work. "Go on, give it a whirl," the Voice said.
"N-no!" Estel replied, fumbling at first, then his voice became level and sure. "I no longer need you, I will not turn to you for help any more."
"All right. It looks as though you have won this time, my friend, Just one final time, for old times' sake? Just one quick good-by?"
"No. No, not just one. Not one quick good-by. You ask for a good-by? Good- by. There, you have had it. Now leave, leave me be and never come back, ever, not to visit, not to check up on me. I never want to see you again, do you understand? Never again will I hear your Voice."
There was silence, blessed silence. Then, much to Estel's dismay, a laughing sound filled the room. Estel bowed his head as another tear threatened. It felt as though a hurricane were ravaging the room, and he stood in the tiny eye of the storm, buffeted one way or another by winds when the storm had passed over him, now left in the terrible quiet knowing that it was only coming back.
"Th-then, if you will not go of your will, I shall make you," Estel resolved, lifting his head timidly. He gritted his teeth and said, "Leave of your own will, or stay here, and dwindle into nothingness." Estel had grown bold, and by the time he finished his words rang with belief. The Voice seemed to disappear again, as though sucked out of the very air. Estel, drained, fell into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
When he awoke the next morning, Estel saw the world with a new hope in his chest. "If I look right, nothing is too bad. If I look at things the right way, nothing is as bad as I thought," he said in a jumbled happy state.
But things went badly that day, for when one is trying a new style one must try very hard at it, and sometimes that trying can be very difficult. Estel learned this at breakfast as he dropped a pitcher, which clattered loudly to the ground, causing the boy to flinch. "All right, all right, calm down," he told himself. "Just a little thing. . ." Which it was, of course, for Estel was growing rapidly and unused to the exact form of his body.
Estel missed the target he and Elrohir were shooting at as they practiced their archery that afternoon. His studies in mathematics had been going badly for weeks, and he could hardly untangle himself from the web of numbers with which he was faced. Nothing seemed to go rightly. By supper, Estel was exhausted from looking on the bright side all day. When he was asked to please pass something, he did not even hear the request fully. He handed over the first thing he grabbed.
"Estel, that is a potato."
"What? Ohh. . ." Estel tiredly corrected his mistake, irked by the smiles of his brothers at his mistake.
"How are your studies coming along?" asked Elrond, genuinely interested, because he was worried by Estel's lack of progress.
"I. . ." Estel searched for the right words to say, anything to account for his having come to such a complete stop. "I. . ."
"You haven't improved, have you?" Elrond asked almost tiredly. It is not that he had unreasonable expectations, but he did expect something of his sons, and Estel's mind had started off quite quick. Why, now, did he slow? Was he just not trying enough? "If you would only half apply yourself--"
"I do!" Estel interrupted. "I really try!"
"Then why are you not getting anywhere?"
"Because it's really hard!" Estel was almost shouting then, very upset that his intellect be called into question, and having reached the very end of his tether.
"There is no need to raise your voice, Estel," said Elrond, calmly yet managing to convey anger.
"If you would but listen--"
"I am listening--"
"You are not! If you were listening you would let me speak!" Estel jumped to his feet, overturning his chair in the process. "You never listen, but you always say you do! You have to let me talk sometimes! It doesn't do any good just to listen to yourself speak!" He felt quivery inside, and drew in a deep breath. "Listen to this," he said, then turned and walked out of the room.
"That was. . .uncharacteristic," Elrohir commented, turning the attentions of his father and brother to him. He shrugged. "It was. No need to worry, Ada, it is only frustration. He did not mean what he said."
Elrond nodded, but did not speak. Had Estel meant his words? Had he meant the tone of them? It was very possible, and Elrond had been worried about him lately, but what could he do? Estel was shutting everybody out. No one could force him to let them in, that was a decision he had to make for himself.
"Ada? Estel is just growing up." Elrond looked up at his identical sons. They were good people, people he was proud of. And, Elrond realized, he was proud of them. They were moral, calm, intelligent Elves. "He will grow through this, also. It is just a phase."
"Well. I hope so."
Estel had had such hope, once. All his hope was scraped together as he stood, his fist clenching and unclenching, his eyes shut tight. "Go away," he sobbed, to no avail. "Go. . .leave me be!" His stomach quivered. His body felt as though it might explode. Estel wished he had not spoken to his father that way--Elrond was someone he loved and respected very much. Why had he gone off like that? He ought to just apologize. . .
But Estel did not apologize. His stomach seemed to drop as he decided on what to do. He dragged the rough edge of the blade across his leg, gasping, loving the pain. When he took the blade away, there was no blood. He had not cut deep enough. Again and again Estel took blade to flesh, resulting in nothing but small scratches.
"Ah!" he shouted, hiding the blade out of sight. All of that, all that trying, being so close and giving up, just for this? Just for a few useless swipes? No blood, even. All of the hurt, just for this? Looking back at his leg, Estel's mouth curled to a smile. Blood had appeared in small red droplets on all six of the new cuts. So there was one thing he did not do so wrong after all.
*****
No, that was NOT the end!! More coming up. Next chapter I've already started, so it should be quick.