"I've taken the dawn watch before at the ford," Estel tossed back, lightly passing his longbow from hand to hand as Elladan's horse snorted, ears flicking back at the movement.
"Yes, and you were all but walking in your sleep the next day."
"I'll be fine!"
"Of course you will," Elladan said dubiously, looking down at the boy. Even at nearly midnight, the midsummer air was thick with humidity, sluggish evening breeze doing little for the closeness of the atmosphere. The cloying heat even seemed to muffle the sound of the Bruinen gurgling lazily downstream. "If you end up losing the hunt again tonight, don't say I didn't warn you."
"I'll sleep during the day, before the hunt," Estel compromised, waving Elladan off with an idle hand. "Go back. I'll be fine."
A rueful grin broke out over the elf's face. "You'd better be able to do fine after all that archery practice Glorfindel put you through all week," he admitted. "Guard well, little brother. Someone will come to relieve you in the morning."
"Sleep well," and Estel turned from the departing Elladan to scan over the rocky bank outlying past the ford. All was quiet, and Ithil's crescent shone brightly enough to reflect brokenly in the water, illuminating the land in opalescent silver. With a sigh, Estel leaned back against the comforting solidity of an oak tree, eyes roaming all across the ford for any movement.
Six hours later, he was seated on the ground at the tree's trunk, avidly dissecting a piece of a feather that had come apart from the rest of the fletching on one arrow in between sporadic glances up to check the land across the Bruinen. He had just pulled the arrow out from the quiver, taking apart the rest of the feather since the arrow would not fly straight with misaligned fletching anyway, when a sudden movement caught his eye. In a flash he was on his feet, a new arrow pulled to his bow as he squinted at the cluster of horses and riders that was approaching.
Fear not, Estel. We bring no evil behind us, and bear none in ourselves.
It took him a moment to realize that the fell voice was in his mind, not his straining ears. He jerked his bow upward despite the reassurance, kept it aimed at the group as they slowed on the opposite bank of the ford: three grey mounts and one as white as Ithil herself. It was only when he recognized the riders as elves - Lorien elves, judging by their garb - that he lowered his bow, saluting to the foremost rider. The quartet walked their horses through the water, coming to a halt near Estel's tree. "Anna suilad," Estel greeted them politely.
"Our greetings in return," replied one of the elves, dismounting - he stood perhaps a hand taller than Estel, silver hair long and plaited curiously down his back, sharp eyes blue-silver'd in the light of the rising sun. "I am Haldir of Lorien. These are my brothers, Rumil and Orophin--" the two others mounted on grey horses, indeed similar in appearance to Haldir, nodded in turn. "--and the lady Galadriel."
Estel inclined his head respectfully, lowering his bow fully. "I am called Estel," he responded formally, feeling unduly awkward and particularly graceless. His gaze strayed to the Lady, who bore a slightly amused, if serene, expression upon her luminous face; he wondered if the formalities of introductions were necessary, if it had indeed been her voice inside his head. "If you keep to the path, you will be taken to the house of Elrond."
Haldir nodded, mute thanks, and remounted his horse, leading the other three down the path Estel had pointed down. An hour later as Estel was still lost in musing over what the Lorien elves' purpose might be in Imladris, the relief sentry dropped out of the tree behind him, startling the boy into spinning, bow raised again only to lower it with a sheepish smile. The elf laughed and waved him off; he hurried back down the path, grateful to be allowed to go and sleep.
When he woke up again, the sun was casting looming, pale shadows across his room, and Elrohir was shaking him by the shoulder. "Estel!"
"What?" he said groggily, sitting up and rubbing a hand across his face, trying to clear his sleep-bleary eyes.
"Get up, you goblin! The hunt starts in less than an hour and you have not yet even eaten!"
"What?"
Elrohir backed away as Estel rolled out of bed in one motion, grabbing a clean tunic and hurriedly changing before reaching for a comb. Elrohir swiftly took it from him with a sigh, turning the boy around and deftly picking out the tangles in his hair by hand before twisting it into a simple point braid while Estel hurriedly fastened his belt, and the straps across his chest that held the sheaths for his knives. There were no weapons used in the hunt, but no one ever ventured forth alone and unarmed. "Go, now. Elladan is in the dining hall, waiting with food. Eat fast - meet us near the clearing in the pine-woods. Hurry!"
When Estel reflected on it later, he thought that if he hadn't eaten at such a speedy pace, Elladan might have just shoved the bread and apple down his throat in order to get him moving faster. In any case, he was still eating when he and Elladan left, feet long accustomed to the oft-used path and taking him unfailingly to the clearing. Late as they were, they were still not the last, and found Elrohir in the throng waiting before the hunters and the hunted were split into two groups. Estel yawned as he stepped to join the other hunted; he had slept for less than two hours, all told.
"Hunters!" a strong voice cried over the general murmur of noise, cutting through easily and bringing all attention to one golden-haired figure standing between the two groups. Estel gaped to see the lady Galadriel in a long white gown, light wool cloak askew on her shoulders with her bright hair spilling over it. "And hunted! Welcome. Hunters - you know well the rules, but I will repeat them, for the newer recruits. The hunt lasts until first light tomorrow. You may roam the depths of bountiful Imladris's forests, but you must go unseen! For each who is espied by one of the hunters, a ribbon will be betokened to him in the chosen color of the hunter.
"If there is one recruit who returns with no ribbons - if," she repeated with a merry laugh, joined by several of the hunters. "They shall be awarded by generous Melpomaen, who has offered one of his prize bows as reward!" She paused as those surrounding the grinning Melpomaen in the hunters' group roused a short cheer. "And if none return ribbonless, then the prize shall go to the hunter whose color is seen most among the hunted - or even the other hunters.
"I see no further reason to tarry, then. Be off!" the Lady cried, and the hunted streamed into the forest, casting a last few furtive glances about before melding into the shade and trees. Estel moved off in a silent walk, keeping his path at the stone-littered edges of a stream in the woods before breaking into a light-footed run toward the forests limning the Bruinen's shore.
Noon found him lying flat on a broad maple branch, well-nigh invisible from the ground amid wood the same color of his tunic and leggings and the shadows that hid his dark hair. He watched several of the others from his group pass beneath him; like him, they moved silently or almost so, barely disturbing the leaves and grass beneath their feet. Unfortunately, even those tiny disturbances proved enough to allow them to be tracked, and caught, as Estel watched. One of the sentries he did not know - a hunter - went past, too, missing him, and Estel grinned in delight at the effectiveness of his hiding place.
Suddenly, a flutter of motion caught his eye, and he sat up on the branch to find a grey ribbon dangled before his face. He groaned, reaching over to take the ribbon and knot it on his belt, and looked up into the unsmiling blue-grey eyes of Haldir, one branch higher than him in the tree. Estel's face fell - there went his chances at the prize bow.
"You linger too long," the elf said, by way of explanation. "The branch you rest on dips lower than it should, from its growth. Do not stay so long in one place, and keep an eye to your back." Estel nodded, looking over at the branch - had it really dipped lower? - before looking back toward Haldir
The branch above him held nothing but leaves, not a one of them set to motion by other movement. Estel stared for a moment, before sliding out of the tree to the ground - he froze for a moment, glancing around to make sure that his presence would go unnoticed, and set off quietly through the foliage.
By the time darkness had fallen, rendering the air cooler if not less sticky, Estel had recieved no fewer than three ribbons - the one from Haldir, another from Elladan after a quiet but short chase through the wood trying to escape him, and one last from Galdor. Haldir had tapped him on the shoulder on two other occasions, leaving him with an unsettled feeling of inadequacy but no further silver ribbons. Estel spent the last few hours of the hunt creeping back toward the pine-woods, crossing from the sheltering eaves of one tree to another, motionless and watching for any telltale movement in between, and trying not to fall asleep in his stiller moments.
Haldir caught him again just as the sun crested over the treetops, filtered golden light straining to light the depths of the forest. The Lorien elf regarded him rather solemnly, saying after a moment of silence, "Watch more carefully where you put your feet. Dead leaves make more noise than living grass, and leave more marks of your passage." And for the first time, Estel saw a brief smile cross the silver-haired elf's face. "Come. The hunt is over. Others will be returning soon."
Within another hour of the sunrise, the clearing was filled again, this time many of its occupants sporting colorful ribbons on their belts. Estel missed most of the gathering, dozing off with his back to a tree's trunk, knees drawn to his chest and head resting atop. Elladan woke him long enough to get his ribbons and take them to the tally being counted up for each of the hunters, and Estel went back to sleep. He stirred once as a cheer went through the group, and he thought he caught a glance of silver hair in the center - he did not know whose - before fading back to slumber.
He woke again as the sun was beginning its slant into the west again, and the clearing was busy with light-hearted activity. He groaned at he stood, his side aching where a gnarled root had been digging into it for some hours, and made his way over toward the center of the field where a pair of deer were roasting. Elladan and Elrohir were among those tending the food, and as he approached an elf pressed a mug of mulled wine into his hands, earning a tired grin from the boy and a lift of his drink.
"Estel!" Elrohir cried, beckoning the boy over with a laugh. "You have slept through too much, but not the food!"
"Of course not the food," Elladan teased, taking a sip of his wine with a nod to Estel before returning to a heated discussion with two of the recruits.
"Did either of you win?" Estel asked eagerly, setting aside his mug - thirsty as he was, he had found out long ago that elven wine was rather potent to humans and most detrimental to him if he wanted to keep his thoughts in order.
"No, of course not. Here, watch the deer for a moment - I must find Galdor and speak with him," Elrohir explained, pulling Estel over to take his position at the spit over the fire. Estel obliged with a grin, keeping the spot moving with one hand as he joined Elladan's talk, now changed to how he had caught one of the new sentries.
He was pulled out of the conversation by a light tap on his shoulder that should have, by all means, been familiar by then. Haldir stood before him, and he hurriedly excused himself from Elladan and the gathering of elves to turn to the Lorien elf, wide-eyed.
"I saw that you did not fare badly this hunt," Haldir said, low voice lilting in amusement. "Though perhaps it was too exhausting for you to stay awake through the tally?"
Estel flushed, giving the spit another turn. "No, I mean-- I was-- this morning.."
Haldir shook his head slightly, and - was that a fleeting grin on his face? Estel couldn't tell, and in the next instant it was gone, replaced by the elf's usual somber expression. "I had heard you'd broken a bow, two sevendays past."
The boy turned a darker shade of red, ducking his head with a rueful grin of affirmation.
"You surely have need of a new bow, then." Estel looked up at Haldir, not quite so red, and looking somewhat bemused as the elf held out a beautifully carved, dark-wooded recurved bow. "I trust that you will not break another."
When Estel looked up from the bow now in his free hand, Haldir was gone again, lost among the other revelling elves. And he could only stare in amazement when he saw the stylized leaf carved into the belly of the bow: Melpomaen's insignia, etched into all bows of his creation.
Elrohir came back to the fires to find Estel running his hands over the bow, entranced. And--
"Ai, you troll! You're letting the deer burn!"
-------------------------------
An arrow whistled through the air, just nicking the edge of a strip of willow bark dangling from a branch -- then another, and another. The third split the willow wand down the center, and Estel lowered his bow with an indulgent half-smile, running one hand over the polished wood before he jogged into the copse of trees to retrieve the arrows. He found the first, then abruptly paused; there was noise overhead.
"Yes, Estel, I know you can hear me," came a familiar drawl, and after a moment Elrohir dropped to the ground from a tree branch, grinning. "What, are you going to shoot me?"
The boy lowered his bow rather sheepishly, dropping the arrow back into his quiver. "Not without good reason."
"And I'm certain that you need little, let alone good reason to use that new bow." Estel flushed with a smile, and Elrohir laughed. "Come, brother; no one has seen you this week more than that bow. Shall we name it and announce your betrothal?"
"Nay, for I'll not wed anyone with hair shorter than yours, nor as prettily braided," Estel shot back, slinging the bow across his back -- carefully.
"Oh, you know that none of Imladris have hair nor face the prettier of mine. In fair Lorien there may be, perhaps. Have you a mind for another gift?"
"What, you'd give me a pretty elf-maiden?"
"I know that look on your face, and from that I know that none less than Luthien herself would compare to that bow of yours. No, something else -- I'll not tell you before you see for yourself. Will you come?"
Estel grinned, beckoning Elrohir onward. "I'd follow you anywhere, brother. Now, where lies this gift?"
Elrohir cuffed his ear lightly but ran ahead, and within a few minutes they were on the winding gravel-strewn path leading to the stables. From the path it was easy to see clear over the edge of the ravine, past the few bridges that spanned the valley and into the thicker trees where the hunt had been held, not so very far across the water. The mist drifted through the air like a cool wind, beading on Estel's eyelashes as he hurried to keep up with Elrohir. He blinked. "My gift isn't the glorious chance to muck out your share of the stalls again, is it?"
"Brother! You wound me with such an accusation." Elrohir dramatically held one hand over his heart, then chuckled as he pulled the stable door open. "Your gift is much better, Elladan and I have seen to that. Come. --here, what do you think?"
Estel stood as Elrohir slipped into a stall and emerged leading a leggy chestnut, gangly and rather-- "He looks a bit small," he said hesitantly.
"Indeed, he's small. He's a yearling yet, and full brother to Glorfindel's Naroth. With the proper training, he'll take you anywhere you tell him to." Elrohir rubbed an affectionate hand over the horse's neck, turning him in a full circle in both directions before Estel. "What think you?"
The boy stepped forward, reaching out to trace a finger down the crooked blaze on the horse's face. The colt wasn't the finest specimen of horseflesh he'd ever seen: doe eyes, lop-ears that tended to tip outward, bony withers and the thinnest tail he'd seen yet on a mount. But he stood square, and his coloring -- velvety oak-brown in the shadows, and when Estel led him for another circle, the sun flashed bright copper in his mane and tail. Elladan and Elrohir would not give him an average horse. "I think he'll be called Lhach."
"Indeed." Elrohir's smile appeared as he pulled open the stall door again. "Put him back, then, and go thank Elladan and Glorfindel for him. We three will help you train him." And he laughed, as Estel's face brightened with an almost childish joy and he dashed out of the stable.