Not Old Enough Chapter Six
By: Eleniel
For full heading, including disclaimers, see Chapter One.
A/N: I am sorry if my Elvish isn't quite right, I do not pretend to be an expert (though I would love to be) and the dictionary I use may not be totally correct. I am doing my best.:
This chapter is particularly short, but hey; it's the last one.
Muchas gracias to my beta, Misty.
"Glor? Glorfindel?" Estel tapped weakly on the Elf's arms, encircling him as he slept. One of Glorfindel's hands was resting on Estel's chest, ensuring he would realize should the child stop breathing once more.
"What is it, Estel? Do you need something?" Glorfindel replied when he came out of his sleep. He shifted Estel in his arms so the boy was leaning rather like an infant, cradled in one arm. It was dark in the room, and the fire was nearly out. Outside the windows, the sun seemed to be considering poking above the mountains.
"It hurts again," Estel whispered in a compromised voice, his face screwed up against the pain. His breaths were becoming shallower again as his mind unconsciously sought to ease the torrents of flame lacing through his ribs.
"I know little one, it is never fun to be ill. How about you let me slide out of the bed and I'll bring the fire back up; it seems a tad bit chilly in here, doesn't it?" Glorfindel asked, cuddling a shivering Estel for a minute before he rearranged the child.
Striding quickly across the room, he removed all of the covers dimming the candles, relighting the ones that had gone out before he threw a log on the smoldering ashes in the hearth. After a bit of poking and prodding, a merry little fire was crackling and filling the room with flickering light.
Estel watched, the lights flashing and dancing across his tired little face. He hadn't woken until morning light, but he was still exhausted.
"Now, Estel, I need you to drink this while I put a little more water on to boil," Glorfindel said, handing another strong-scented cup of tea to Estel. The little boy wrinkled his nose, considering rejecting it. "Estel, please drink it. I promise it will help you get better, and the sooner you get better the less time you have to lay here in bed," he said, playing on Estel's known hatred of bedrest. The ploy worked – the empty cup was handed back to him in seconds.
Glorfindel was left to himself for a few minutes as Estel lay, entranced in thought. He used the time to prepare more of the minty paste Elrond had been using on Estel's chest to help the boy breathe.
After a little while, Glorfindel stopped, covering the paste and sitting on the end of the bed.
"I think someone needs a hot bath before we put any more mint rub on your chest," he said, smiling and dipping a cloth into a little cauldron of water he'd taken off the fire not too long ago. The water was very warm still but not hot enough to burn. Estel relaxed and allowed himself to be sponge-bathed and dressed in a warm nightshirt.
"Glor, I can't just stay in my bedtime clothes all day," he said hoarsely. Glorfindel laughed quietly, handing him a cup of water and looking out the window.
"Well whyever not? You're still sick little one, and you can't get out of bed today," Glorfindel replied, earning a glare.
"Will too," Estel said grumpily, attempting to sit up and landing himself in another coughing fit.
"No, I'm afraid you shan't be up today. But, I don't have any training sessions, so if you want, we can play a little and I will tell you stories of when I was small, like you," he offered. Estel smiled and nodded – he loved hearing stories, as long as they were good enough to hold his interest.
"Well, I see why you would want to play, but I am wondering if I should let you listen to his stories. He seems to enjoy frightening small children with stories of Balrogs and Orcs," Elrond said. He had slipped in unnoticed some minutes ago, while his friend and protector had still been dressing Estel. Glorfindel looked up, an undignified expression gracing his fair features.
"I do not," he said, but Estel was nodding slightly.
"I know, ada, I wanna hear," he said quietly, stifling a yawn. The Elves just smiled.
Elrond picked up the bowl of mint paste off the table where Glorfindel had placed it, and as he opened the front of Estel's nightshirt to smear some on his chest, he said, "Maybe later, Estel, right now I want you to sleep some more."
"'m not...sleepy," Estel answered, yawning once more. Elrond's only reply was to put a hand on Estel's forehead and close his eyes in a look of deep concentration. In a few seconds, the child was asleep again, helped along by Elrond's abilities.
Quietly putting away the tools Glorfindel had used to make the mint rub, Elrond had to smile. "So innocent," he stated, watching Estel's small body curled in sleep. Nothing but his still slightly labored breathing and pale color gave away his condition.
"Such is the innocence of all children. They do not know the evils of the world," Glorfindel replied, brushing a few strands of hair out of Estel's eyes.
"I do not look forward to the day he learns of them," Elrond answered, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to his son's head.
"Ada?" a voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation. Elladan was standing partially inside the room, looking at his little human brother. "How is he?"
"He is better, Elladan. He will live. Though, when he wakes, he will have a long lesson on how important it is to listen to his father. I don't know what I would have done..." Elrond trailed off, not wanting to think of the possibility. Estel held the hope of men, true, but he also held the Elf Lord's heart in his little hand. Sometimes, upon reflection, Elrond thought it unwise to become so attached to the Dúnadan child. All men must someday die. But, as he observed the little form, so pure and innocent, blanketed in sleep on the large bed, he did not regret taking the boy into his heart.
Epilogue
One year later...
"Estel! Hurry, little one, we must set off soon," Elrohir laughed as his younger brother nodded and raced to his bedroom, a smile as big as an oliphaunt plastered across his face.
After Estel had recovered from his misadventures in the forest, Elrond had given him a long talk indeed, and Estel had taken several weeks before he began asking to be taken hunting again.
The child was now eight, and had learned to use a bow in the last year. He had been so dedicated that he'd picked up new skills almost daily, and now he was ready for his first hunting trip. They would not be leaving the valley, but they would be going somewhere Estel had never been.
Elladan had made the mistake of letting Estel know several days in advance, so that every waking moment seemed like an eternity to the boy, and those around him were soon weary of listening to his incessant chatter. Even at meals he hardly quieted enough to eat, asking everything about the trip he could.
"This is all your fault," Elrohir had remarked one day, glaring at Elladan while trying to get Estel to focus on his lessons. Elladan had merely shrugged and laughed.
Now, the big day was here...Estel would go on his first hunting trip, with his brothers and Glorfindel. He was finally old enough.