Reason dictated that he take Naroth back to the stable, and he did so, leaving the horse with the groom there and returning to the courtyard to find Thalion still grazing at the edge. It took considerably more effort to lead the obstinate pony back, but when he finished, there was still no sign of his foster-father, brothers, or Glorfindel.
So he sought out his mother in her room, sniffling in both indignance and concern for Elrohir. "It is all right," Gilrael soothed him, settling him on her lap as she deftly took out the braids in his hair, smoothing out the tangles beneath them before quickly plaiting them back. It had not been her idea for her son to about with the hair-dress of an elf when he knew he was a human, but Estel's adoration of Elladan and Elrohir had said otherwise, and she had not protested it. "Elrohir is strong, and lord Elrond is skilled in healing. Do not fret."
"But he was all bloody, mama!"
"So were you, when you fell out of that tree last summer and knocked out your tooth. You healed; so will Elrohir."
"Oh."
"Yes, 'oh,'" she teased him gently, straightening his robe.
"Does he hurt as much as I did when I fell out of the tree?"
"I suspect he might."
"Can I go and see him, then?"
"Wait a little longer," she advised, "to give him some time to rest and lord Elrond time to work."
"..now can I go see him?"
Gilraen laughed, lightly pushing him off her lap in the direction of the door. "Off with you, imp. And if Elrond tells you to do something, obey." Estel ran into the corridor, all pleased smiles and mussed-again robes, and Gilraen watched him go with a fondly sad smile.
The door to Elladan's and Elrohir's room was still shut, and Estel had learned early on that if doors were shut, he was to keep out. It wasn't often that he was closed out, so he accepted the rule willingly enough, and now he sat outside, back against the wall to wait for someone to come out - he could hear movement enough inside - or, at the very least, for someone to open the door. It took awhile - he was nodding off to drowsy, upright sleep before the door creaked inward and Elladan stepped out, accompanied by Glorfindel.
"--have to take a few of the sentries, at least, and round up the horses and loot from the Orcs' camp," Elladan was saying in a clipped tone. Estel jerked awake with a start, surprising himself as well as the two elves.
"You're going again?" he queried, slight petulance brought on by tiredness. "Can I go, too, Elladan? Please?"
"For the hundredth time, Estel, no!" Elladan snapped, sidestepping quickly to avoid treading on the boy's fingers. "By the Valar, will you never stop asking and making yourself such a nuisance?"
Estel drew back, stung by Elladan's sharp tone. He was preparing himself for some comeback when Elrohir's voice came forth from within the room. "Make you ready to leave, brother. I fear I shall have to part you from Estel's valiant company by requesting him stay with me." Estel sent the exasperated Elladan a triumphant look, then rose from his seat to hurry into the room, hearing Glorfindel's and Elladan's departing footsteps behind him.
Elrond. too, was preparing to leave the room when Estel came in, slipping out the door with a faint smile at his foster-son. Estel barely paid him any heed, scampering instead to the foot of the bed to peer at the elf atop it. "Elrohir?"
"Estel?" Elrohir drawled, tone mockingly grave, but the smile on his face erased the jibe in his voice. He glanced over, propped up on a pair of pillows; the intricate coverlet beneath him was slightly streaked with dirt, but he had changed into an older set of tan robes and didn't look much the worse for the wear. "What think you of staying home to listen to me tell tales of other Orc-hunts while Elladan and the others go out?"
"That would be all right, I suppose," the boy replied after a moment's thought, scrambling up onto the foot of the bed. "As long as you tell me about your last hunt, too."
Elrohir chuckled. "We'll start there, then. You see, Elladan and I have long ridden out with the rangers of the north to hunt Orcs. When we left four days ago, it was our intent to meet with them to pursue a band of Orcs going north, past Langwell. Instead, just Elladan and I came across a smaller band near Carrock, past sunset." He paused to shift slightly on the bed, grimacing, and Estel scooted aside to vacate more room at the foot of the bed and sitting off to the side. "There were probably.. twenty, twenty-five of them."
"And only two of you?" Estel was rapt, wide-eyed - and still asking questions.
"Yes, brother. Two of us." Elrohir grinned. "So we decided to ambush them, kill them before heading to Langwell. But sadly, fortune was not with us that eve. One of their rabble spotted us, and we were forced to attack outright."
"Why didn't you run?"
"Elfling, we would have led them straight back to Imladris had we done that. Besides, it is not in my nature or Elladan's to flee from such vile creatures. Nor should it be in yours, should it ever come to that. --so! We fought, yes. And we managed to kill the Orcs, every last stinking one." Estel was still hanging on to every word, stretching out onto his stomach on the bed to listen. "One of the last, though - it had its spear, and I my bow, and it so happens that he threw his spear at me just before I loosed an arrow." Elrohir shifted aside, and Estel scrambled up the bed to his usual storytelling position - leaning against Elrohir's shoulder, albeit more gingerly now. "So it shot me, and I shot it - and it's just as lucky that I killed it but did not, myself, die."
Estel's thoughts of death were limited to the faraway realms of in-a-long-time - his father's death was more of a story, like that of the elven kings of old, than a conceptualization of his own mortality. As it was, stories held far more interest for him than death. "But what happened then?"
"Well, 'twas not a bad cut - just long. I thought to just leave it, since the spear had not been tipped in poison, and helped Elladan kill the rest and pile their carcasses to burn - a word to the wise, little brother, do not do as I did. Elladan was well-nigh furious at me when I fell off my horse like a sack of stones."
Dark eyes widened again, and Elrohir briefly wondered if it was natural for human eyes to open that large. "You - you fell off your horse?"
"Ay, right as we rode before the Bruinen."
"And Elladan was angry?"
"Extremely so. I think he'd've liked to cuff me for leaving the wound unbound, if I had not already been unconscious."
"So why was he mad at me, then?"
Elrohir was taken aback for a moment, blinking in bemused silence, trying to think of a time when Elladan had deliberately shown his ire to the youngster. "What? When?"
"Just before he left now." A sniffle or two punctuated Estel's words. "Outside your room."
"Oh, Estel," Elrohir sighed, wrapping an arm about Estel's shoulders and pulling him in for a light embrace. "Elladan was not angry at you, fear not. He was only worried for you. He would not have both of his brothers injured in a day."
"He called me a nuisance," Estel sniffed, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand.
"'Twas not meant unkindly. Estel, if you are ever a nuisance, rest assured that more than just Elladan will tell you so. I will tell you so, most firmly, if ever you should become one."
"Really?"
"Really." Elrohir smiled gently. "Now. Where was I in my story?"
No more than ten minutes later, Elrond came into the room to check on both his son and his foster-son; he smiled when he saw the sleeping Estel curled up under Elrohir's arm, and left again, so the only sounds remaining inside were the deepening breaths of slumber under the balm of Ithil's light.