Estel nodded on and off during that first day of traveling, though not
the most comfortable bed he ever slept on, he was tired enough to sleep
anywhere. But he kept trying to keep awake (and the bucking kept waking him
up anyway) so that he would not fall off the horse in his sleep. But more
fearful of that, he was petrified of the time not too long in the future
when the company would stop for camp and he would be discovered.
'I dread to think what Uncle Gandalf would do…' he thought sadly. He knew the wizard long enough to know that crossing him was a dangerous thing and folly act if you could avoid it. He gulped and kept as quiet as possible, which was not really necessary for the blanket muffled any noise he would make. But it also kept him in utter darkness throughout the day, with nothing to do but eat from the fruit, and once he was full he grew bored.
'I wonder what adventures lie ahead…' he tried to cheer himself up. By now, he heard enough of the company's talk to understand what they were doing. Yes, it was a lucky thing Dwarves loved to gloat and boast, he overheard two young ones (by their voices) talking about what they would do with their share of the treasure, and two older ones; travelling very near his horse; talking about slaying the dragon. He managed to piece all the pieces of the puzzle together to a startling conclusion that they were heading to slay a dragon and steal its treasures and gold! Though his spirits were lifted immensely by the news he would have the privilege of seeing a dragon (wouldn't those boys back home envy him when they heard it!), they were also solemn due to the goal ahead. He never understood the need of stealing, why take from another when you have all you need? He thought they were out to help prisoners or of a noble quest, not this demeaning theft. Perhaps this Thorin wasn't as important as Estel thought he was, otherwise how could such a man at a high state allow himself to be morally corrupt?
Though some of you may shake your head and mock Estel's childish view of life, you should be warned that there isn't a sincerer outlook on life than that of a child. They do not yet understanding how low human beings deteriorated with our petty wars, murder over nothing and the list goes on. What is more it is worth mentioning again that he was raised by the esteemed Elves of Rivendell, and so he was not yet exposed to man's true nature, as he started to on this mission, but we digress and should get back to the story at hand.
And so our young friend spent most of the day listening to the Dwarves' talk (Gandalf was gloomily quiet and so was Rabbit Feet, or maybe he was so far away Estel could not hear him) and trying to figure out the lure of gold and theft. Before he was ready for it, the sun decided she delayed his discovery too long and began her setting. The horse stopped its trotting to Gandalf's strong command, and Estel could not think of an area in his body that was not aching. He heard soft THUMPS of feet hitting the ground and knew that the fellow travelers were dismounting their ponies and preparing for camp. Estel gulped and closed his eyes awaiting his doom, which was close to follow.
"We should make camp here," he heard Gandalf's voice too near for comfort. "We still have a long journey ahead of us in the mountains and we will get no further tonight." Estel felt the blanket being yanked away from him and shut his eyes closed even tighter and held his breath-
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Gandalf yelled, surprise mixed with anger. He pulled the boy off the horse and dropped him unceremoniously on the ground. Estel groaned and rubbed his side before standing up on his unsteady feet, nauseated from the ride.
"I…" He tried to come up with a good excuse. "I-I must ha-have fallen asleep on t-the horse," he managed to stutter, seeing the condemning flare in the old man's eyes.
"What a small creature," Rabbit Feet said, examining the child like a specimen. "Is he a small Dwarf?" Both Dwarves and Estel snorted at the insult. But it was not intended as one, as our Hobbit had not been out of the shire and barely saw Dwarves, so he assumed they could not have been born with beards, and probably reached a certain height at youth and ceased in their growing. He never saw a man (besides Gandalf of course) and so it was beyond his comprehension that 'Big Men' could possibly be small children.
"I am NOT a Dwarf!" Estel said, emphasizing it by stomping his foot (on Thorin's foot might I add) and glaring at the Hobbit angrily. "I am an elf!"
"Are you now?" Bilbo asked confused rather than mocking. "Where are your pointy ears? And silky blonde hair? You are the queerest elf I've ever seen, though it cannot be said I've seen many."
"And you are simply queer," Estel retorted indignantly. "For I cannot even come up with a name for you! You are small, fat and have enormous rabbit feet!" Needless to say the Hobbit didn't think much of him at that point.
"Now now, Estel," Gandalf reprimanded with a finger. "Do behave cordially towards others, I'm sure Elrond taught you THAT much. Now what ARE you doing here?"
Estel buried his face in the ground in such a fashion Bilbo couldn't help but feel compassion towards the child. "I heard you were going on an adventure, so I… I wanted to join you!" Estel whispered the first part, but in the second part his voice raised and he looked up with clear eyes.
"Quests of this sort, or any sort for that matter, are not for children," Gandalf said strongly but gently.
"I am not a child! I can take care of myself! I want to go with you to slay the dragon!"
At which point Gandalf decided he had enough of this nonsense and whacked the child on the head with his staff.
"Ow!" Estel said, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"
"That was on behalf of Elrond because he is not here," Gandalf explained gruffly.
"But HE never hit me!" Estel argued pouting.
Gandalf in response hit him once more with the staff before answering: "Well he should have! Maybe it would have knocked some sense into you earlier!" After that Gandalf sighed and appeared to Estel to be a hundred years older.
"What's done is done, I'm afraid."
"What are you talking about?" Thorin asked angrily, still holding his assaulted foot. "That thing is a menace and we cannot have him along on this trip. We've put up with one of your friends, we will not put up with another."
Several of the Dwarves agreed with Thorin, but Gandalf shushed them with a wave of his hand.
"We cannot turn back, we are too far ahead. For the meanwhile the child will join us, until I find a suitable opportunity to return him home."
"How will you do that?" Gloin asked, who was looking at the child distastefully.
"I will personally take him home, or to a place I will know he will be safe at." Gandalf announced, surprising them all, including young Estel.
At this news every member of the company looked questioningly at Gandalf- was he going to leave them? Would they have to go one without him? Surely not! Thought them all, dreading to part with the wise wizard.
"Can we not send him back with a horse?" Oin suggested, scratching his beard.
"No, I will not allow this boy to leave my sight until he is safely at home," Gandalf glared at Estel. "I perish to think what Elrond would do if he found out any harm came to his son."
Thorin was about to argue when Gandalf added. "And if anyone feels this child has no place amongst you, then know that you will forfeit me as well. For until he is safe I will take personal care of him." Estel felt glad and safe at the wizard's words, but also annoyed to be considered a child who needed protection. But he dared not speak these feelings out loud, afraid of enraging the party even more. So they camped that night there, and introductions were made (though Estel doubted he would remember all the people's names, he was grateful to know Rabbit Feet had a name- Bilbo) and they made a quiet camp, not daring to sing or speak too loud. Estel felt more intimidated by the silence than by any noise he could think of until a few nights later.
But at the moment he rode with Gandalf on his steed the next day (actually sitting on it, thankfully) and tried to learn about the curious people as much as possible. Fili and Kili were the first to allow his approach, being the youngest of the group and knowing fully well the implications of that. He told them about his childhood in Rivendell (they still didn't believe he was an Elf) and they in return told of theirs. He learned that the respectable Thorin was in fact their mother's brother and several other family trees (Oin and Gloin were brothers and cousins of Balin and Dwalin and such) which dwarves prided in, but made no difference to Estel. Why did it matter who's cousin you were and who's great grandson you were? Why should it give you more honor? Is it a title? By saying 'Heir of Durin' does it give Thorin more honor than normal dwarves? He shook these tiresome thoughts away and concentrated on listening and learning as much as possible.
The following night Estel watched curiously as Gloin and Oin made the fire.
"There's nothing to it," Gloin commented, teaching the young and eager pupil the art. He laughed heartedly at the young one's attempts, but with some instructions he finally succeeded and rewarded his teacher with a smile that brightened up the sky like a thousand diamond stars, with more intensity. And consequently in his now lifted heart (for not even Lord Elrond off guard or Gandalf the Grey could resist that winning smile and not smile in return, happier than they were) Gloin had no doubt that there was some elf in the lad.
*
The next few riding days up the mountain were quiet. The weather was horrible and it grew colder by the moment, but Estel dared not complain. No, he left that to the Hobbit and several Dwarves who enjoyed being gloomy. All and all the party was rather impressed with the boy, who sat riding in front of the Wizard, getting his share of the icy breeze. He carried himself with what he hoped was the Elven confidence and stature, but could have been conceived of conceited. Though he would never admit it to the boy, Gandalf took great pride in the way he ceased from behaving like a boy and tried quite successfully to act like a man. His heart was filled with sadness at the thought of this youth growing up too fast and losing his innocence, but something in his keen grey eyes told the wizard he was always this way. Always walked as if the weight of the world was on his tiny shoulders, which it very well might be in the future, but at the moment it is a waste of precious years.
The next day the company met a thunderstorm, no make that a thunder- battle. The stone-giants were hurling rocks at one another and they made camp that night under a hanging rock. Estel sat there, shivering from head to toe under Gandalf's blanket, which he shared with the boy. He wouldn't say a word to anyone about it, but truth be told he was frightened. He never experienced thunder and lightening to this extent and dread was creeping through his veins and dripping to his heart and the pit of his stomach. Like rain- drops by drops and pretty soon it was overflowing and overwhelming. He startled out of his morbid thoughts when he heard a whimpering and glanced aside to see Bilbo cowering under his blanket. Estel couldn't help but smile at the pathetic sight and found the seed of courage he needed. He crawled out of the comfortable blanket and crawled over to the Hobbit.
"Scary, isn't it?" Estel asked quietly, looking straight ahead. Bilbo stuck his head out from under the blanket and saw that the child was speaking sincerely.
"I have never met such a storm in the Shire before," Bilbo whispered, more to himself than to Estel.
"I've never heard of the Shire before," Estel said curiously. "Tell me about it, if you may." And so Bilbo went on to a thorough examination of the fields, people and different places in the Shire. About parties and presents and his very own Hobbit-hole. Bilbo took great pride as he described his cozy little house with all its merits. As he went on he hardly paid any attention to the sky or the drenching rain, reliving pleasant memories and keeping himself occupied. His spirits were lifted and for the first time in days he smiled a bittersweet smile, wishing he were back in the Shire.
"You miss home, don't you?" Estel said understanding. "As do I." Bilbo glanced at the young boy and saw something odd. He knew that he was looking into the face of a very wet child, but what he saw was a wise and ageless confidant. He found himself reassured by those deep and emotional eyes and all his trouble seemed to lift from him and disappear. But it didn't disappear; it simply found a new owner, one who was willing to take on himself all the sorrow in the world, as long as others need not suffer. He was truly a remarkable child.
"This won't do at all!" Thorin said, interrupting their moment. "If we don't get blown off or drowned, or struck by lightening, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football."
"Well if you know of anywhere better, take us there!" Gandalf retorted grumpily. Estel covered his ears and tried to disappear. He never liked it when adults argued, it made him sick to the pit of his stomach. Luckily for him there weren't many arguing in Rivendell, but even the all mighty Elves weren't exempt from anger and strife. The discussion ended rather quickly when it was decided to send Fili and Kili, who had sharp eyes and being the youngest often got these types of work, to find better shelter. Fili and Kili returned soon enough, holding on to the rocks in the wind.
"We have found a dry cave," said they, "not far round the next corner; and ponies and all could get inside."
"Have you thoroughly explored it?" Asked the wizard, knowing fully well that caves up in the mountains were seldom unoccupied.
"Yes, yes!" they said, but everyone knew they came back too quickly to explore it long. "It isn't that big, and it does not go far back." Though you could never know how far a cave went, this seemed good news enough and before long they arrived at the rocks before the cave. There was just room to get the ponies through with a squeeze, when they had been unpacked and unsaddled. Gandalf lit up his wand and by its light they began to explore the cave from end to end.
It was a fair size, not too large and mysterious. It had a dry floor and comfortable nooks. They put their ponies at one end (who seemed grateful for the change in environment) and Oin and Gloin wanted to light a fire to dry their clothes, but Gandalf would have none of that. So they spread their wet things on the floor and took dry ones out of their bundles. They made their blankets comfortable and got out their pipes (besides Estel naturally) and blew smoke rings, which Gandalf turned into different colours and set dancing by the roof to amuse them. Estel jumped up and down and tried to get to the rings, which magically would move just beyond his reach- teasing him. They talked and talked and forgot about the storm, and discussed what each would do with his share of the treasure.
"What will you do with your share, young Master Elf?" Balin asked jokingly.
"I do not need treasure," Estel argued with conviction. "Gold will never buy happiness. All I wish is for adventures and fights, and I will be pleased."
"I fear you will live to regret such a statement," Gandalf said tutting. "But let us sleep now, for we are weary and the road ahead is greater than the time we have!" And so one by one they dropped off to sleep, and that was the last time they used their ponies; packages; baggages; tools and paraphernalia that they brought with them.
Estel was in the middle of an odd dream, tossing and turning and covered with a thin layer of sweat. In his dream he saw great armies fighting together, his Dwarf friends among them. He saw some Elves, man and other creatures laboring against creatures of the night. He saw men falling with blank eyes and open mouths, as though they were about to say something but died before it left their lips. He saw great carnage and massacre and wanted to shield his eyes, but in the dream his eyes were wide open and unblinking. He saw sights he could not decipher, that flashed by too quickly to register in his mind, he saw faceless people falling and not getting up again. The colours changed and blurred and suddenly he wasn't in the same battle. He saw men of great stature together fighting evil. Saw the death, smelt the decay and tasted the metallic taste of blood. There, amongst the valiant warriors was a lone figure, one destined to such a life. He turned towards Estel and the young boy's breath was caught in his throat. It was the same ageless man with his own dark and ancient grey eyes and unruly dark hair. He immediately recognized him and he swallowed hard, knowing this was what he could expect, these horrors. Then the man smiled at him sadly, as though apologizing for all he would have to endure in the future- this man's past and present. Then the man turned his back on him and with a shrill cry plunged his sword into the enemy's heart-
Estel woke up with a start when he heard a scream not from his dream.
-END PART 3-
Author's note:
This chapter is dedicated to Aralondwen, I hope you ate and slept, girl! Seriously you got me to write this chapter quicker than I intended and motivated me. Well I had my huge test today (yes I learn on Sundays, bumber) so other than being really depressed about it, it gave me a chance to write a bit. I have a few more tests coming up, so I'm not sure when I'llw rite again, but who knows. Your reviews might just push me to write faster, hint hint.
A little explanation, incase some of you didn't get it, like Eugenides:
In my opinion Estel doesn't know that Elrond isn't his real father. Elrond and Gilraen decided to keep it from him because it would revoke questions they're not ready to answer and might be dangerous. They might not have said 'Elrond is your father' but they never said anything to counter it and give him a reason to doubt it. When characters talk about Elrond and Estel I tried my best that they don't specifically say 'your father' (even though he IS his father the moment he adopted him). If anyone understood my babbling, there you go. No fancy quote in the beginning, I'm afraid, but the next will have one.
-Ivy-
'I dread to think what Uncle Gandalf would do…' he thought sadly. He knew the wizard long enough to know that crossing him was a dangerous thing and folly act if you could avoid it. He gulped and kept as quiet as possible, which was not really necessary for the blanket muffled any noise he would make. But it also kept him in utter darkness throughout the day, with nothing to do but eat from the fruit, and once he was full he grew bored.
'I wonder what adventures lie ahead…' he tried to cheer himself up. By now, he heard enough of the company's talk to understand what they were doing. Yes, it was a lucky thing Dwarves loved to gloat and boast, he overheard two young ones (by their voices) talking about what they would do with their share of the treasure, and two older ones; travelling very near his horse; talking about slaying the dragon. He managed to piece all the pieces of the puzzle together to a startling conclusion that they were heading to slay a dragon and steal its treasures and gold! Though his spirits were lifted immensely by the news he would have the privilege of seeing a dragon (wouldn't those boys back home envy him when they heard it!), they were also solemn due to the goal ahead. He never understood the need of stealing, why take from another when you have all you need? He thought they were out to help prisoners or of a noble quest, not this demeaning theft. Perhaps this Thorin wasn't as important as Estel thought he was, otherwise how could such a man at a high state allow himself to be morally corrupt?
Though some of you may shake your head and mock Estel's childish view of life, you should be warned that there isn't a sincerer outlook on life than that of a child. They do not yet understanding how low human beings deteriorated with our petty wars, murder over nothing and the list goes on. What is more it is worth mentioning again that he was raised by the esteemed Elves of Rivendell, and so he was not yet exposed to man's true nature, as he started to on this mission, but we digress and should get back to the story at hand.
And so our young friend spent most of the day listening to the Dwarves' talk (Gandalf was gloomily quiet and so was Rabbit Feet, or maybe he was so far away Estel could not hear him) and trying to figure out the lure of gold and theft. Before he was ready for it, the sun decided she delayed his discovery too long and began her setting. The horse stopped its trotting to Gandalf's strong command, and Estel could not think of an area in his body that was not aching. He heard soft THUMPS of feet hitting the ground and knew that the fellow travelers were dismounting their ponies and preparing for camp. Estel gulped and closed his eyes awaiting his doom, which was close to follow.
"We should make camp here," he heard Gandalf's voice too near for comfort. "We still have a long journey ahead of us in the mountains and we will get no further tonight." Estel felt the blanket being yanked away from him and shut his eyes closed even tighter and held his breath-
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Gandalf yelled, surprise mixed with anger. He pulled the boy off the horse and dropped him unceremoniously on the ground. Estel groaned and rubbed his side before standing up on his unsteady feet, nauseated from the ride.
"I…" He tried to come up with a good excuse. "I-I must ha-have fallen asleep on t-the horse," he managed to stutter, seeing the condemning flare in the old man's eyes.
"What a small creature," Rabbit Feet said, examining the child like a specimen. "Is he a small Dwarf?" Both Dwarves and Estel snorted at the insult. But it was not intended as one, as our Hobbit had not been out of the shire and barely saw Dwarves, so he assumed they could not have been born with beards, and probably reached a certain height at youth and ceased in their growing. He never saw a man (besides Gandalf of course) and so it was beyond his comprehension that 'Big Men' could possibly be small children.
"I am NOT a Dwarf!" Estel said, emphasizing it by stomping his foot (on Thorin's foot might I add) and glaring at the Hobbit angrily. "I am an elf!"
"Are you now?" Bilbo asked confused rather than mocking. "Where are your pointy ears? And silky blonde hair? You are the queerest elf I've ever seen, though it cannot be said I've seen many."
"And you are simply queer," Estel retorted indignantly. "For I cannot even come up with a name for you! You are small, fat and have enormous rabbit feet!" Needless to say the Hobbit didn't think much of him at that point.
"Now now, Estel," Gandalf reprimanded with a finger. "Do behave cordially towards others, I'm sure Elrond taught you THAT much. Now what ARE you doing here?"
Estel buried his face in the ground in such a fashion Bilbo couldn't help but feel compassion towards the child. "I heard you were going on an adventure, so I… I wanted to join you!" Estel whispered the first part, but in the second part his voice raised and he looked up with clear eyes.
"Quests of this sort, or any sort for that matter, are not for children," Gandalf said strongly but gently.
"I am not a child! I can take care of myself! I want to go with you to slay the dragon!"
At which point Gandalf decided he had enough of this nonsense and whacked the child on the head with his staff.
"Ow!" Estel said, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"
"That was on behalf of Elrond because he is not here," Gandalf explained gruffly.
"But HE never hit me!" Estel argued pouting.
Gandalf in response hit him once more with the staff before answering: "Well he should have! Maybe it would have knocked some sense into you earlier!" After that Gandalf sighed and appeared to Estel to be a hundred years older.
"What's done is done, I'm afraid."
"What are you talking about?" Thorin asked angrily, still holding his assaulted foot. "That thing is a menace and we cannot have him along on this trip. We've put up with one of your friends, we will not put up with another."
Several of the Dwarves agreed with Thorin, but Gandalf shushed them with a wave of his hand.
"We cannot turn back, we are too far ahead. For the meanwhile the child will join us, until I find a suitable opportunity to return him home."
"How will you do that?" Gloin asked, who was looking at the child distastefully.
"I will personally take him home, or to a place I will know he will be safe at." Gandalf announced, surprising them all, including young Estel.
At this news every member of the company looked questioningly at Gandalf- was he going to leave them? Would they have to go one without him? Surely not! Thought them all, dreading to part with the wise wizard.
"Can we not send him back with a horse?" Oin suggested, scratching his beard.
"No, I will not allow this boy to leave my sight until he is safely at home," Gandalf glared at Estel. "I perish to think what Elrond would do if he found out any harm came to his son."
Thorin was about to argue when Gandalf added. "And if anyone feels this child has no place amongst you, then know that you will forfeit me as well. For until he is safe I will take personal care of him." Estel felt glad and safe at the wizard's words, but also annoyed to be considered a child who needed protection. But he dared not speak these feelings out loud, afraid of enraging the party even more. So they camped that night there, and introductions were made (though Estel doubted he would remember all the people's names, he was grateful to know Rabbit Feet had a name- Bilbo) and they made a quiet camp, not daring to sing or speak too loud. Estel felt more intimidated by the silence than by any noise he could think of until a few nights later.
But at the moment he rode with Gandalf on his steed the next day (actually sitting on it, thankfully) and tried to learn about the curious people as much as possible. Fili and Kili were the first to allow his approach, being the youngest of the group and knowing fully well the implications of that. He told them about his childhood in Rivendell (they still didn't believe he was an Elf) and they in return told of theirs. He learned that the respectable Thorin was in fact their mother's brother and several other family trees (Oin and Gloin were brothers and cousins of Balin and Dwalin and such) which dwarves prided in, but made no difference to Estel. Why did it matter who's cousin you were and who's great grandson you were? Why should it give you more honor? Is it a title? By saying 'Heir of Durin' does it give Thorin more honor than normal dwarves? He shook these tiresome thoughts away and concentrated on listening and learning as much as possible.
The following night Estel watched curiously as Gloin and Oin made the fire.
"There's nothing to it," Gloin commented, teaching the young and eager pupil the art. He laughed heartedly at the young one's attempts, but with some instructions he finally succeeded and rewarded his teacher with a smile that brightened up the sky like a thousand diamond stars, with more intensity. And consequently in his now lifted heart (for not even Lord Elrond off guard or Gandalf the Grey could resist that winning smile and not smile in return, happier than they were) Gloin had no doubt that there was some elf in the lad.
*
The next few riding days up the mountain were quiet. The weather was horrible and it grew colder by the moment, but Estel dared not complain. No, he left that to the Hobbit and several Dwarves who enjoyed being gloomy. All and all the party was rather impressed with the boy, who sat riding in front of the Wizard, getting his share of the icy breeze. He carried himself with what he hoped was the Elven confidence and stature, but could have been conceived of conceited. Though he would never admit it to the boy, Gandalf took great pride in the way he ceased from behaving like a boy and tried quite successfully to act like a man. His heart was filled with sadness at the thought of this youth growing up too fast and losing his innocence, but something in his keen grey eyes told the wizard he was always this way. Always walked as if the weight of the world was on his tiny shoulders, which it very well might be in the future, but at the moment it is a waste of precious years.
The next day the company met a thunderstorm, no make that a thunder- battle. The stone-giants were hurling rocks at one another and they made camp that night under a hanging rock. Estel sat there, shivering from head to toe under Gandalf's blanket, which he shared with the boy. He wouldn't say a word to anyone about it, but truth be told he was frightened. He never experienced thunder and lightening to this extent and dread was creeping through his veins and dripping to his heart and the pit of his stomach. Like rain- drops by drops and pretty soon it was overflowing and overwhelming. He startled out of his morbid thoughts when he heard a whimpering and glanced aside to see Bilbo cowering under his blanket. Estel couldn't help but smile at the pathetic sight and found the seed of courage he needed. He crawled out of the comfortable blanket and crawled over to the Hobbit.
"Scary, isn't it?" Estel asked quietly, looking straight ahead. Bilbo stuck his head out from under the blanket and saw that the child was speaking sincerely.
"I have never met such a storm in the Shire before," Bilbo whispered, more to himself than to Estel.
"I've never heard of the Shire before," Estel said curiously. "Tell me about it, if you may." And so Bilbo went on to a thorough examination of the fields, people and different places in the Shire. About parties and presents and his very own Hobbit-hole. Bilbo took great pride as he described his cozy little house with all its merits. As he went on he hardly paid any attention to the sky or the drenching rain, reliving pleasant memories and keeping himself occupied. His spirits were lifted and for the first time in days he smiled a bittersweet smile, wishing he were back in the Shire.
"You miss home, don't you?" Estel said understanding. "As do I." Bilbo glanced at the young boy and saw something odd. He knew that he was looking into the face of a very wet child, but what he saw was a wise and ageless confidant. He found himself reassured by those deep and emotional eyes and all his trouble seemed to lift from him and disappear. But it didn't disappear; it simply found a new owner, one who was willing to take on himself all the sorrow in the world, as long as others need not suffer. He was truly a remarkable child.
"This won't do at all!" Thorin said, interrupting their moment. "If we don't get blown off or drowned, or struck by lightening, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football."
"Well if you know of anywhere better, take us there!" Gandalf retorted grumpily. Estel covered his ears and tried to disappear. He never liked it when adults argued, it made him sick to the pit of his stomach. Luckily for him there weren't many arguing in Rivendell, but even the all mighty Elves weren't exempt from anger and strife. The discussion ended rather quickly when it was decided to send Fili and Kili, who had sharp eyes and being the youngest often got these types of work, to find better shelter. Fili and Kili returned soon enough, holding on to the rocks in the wind.
"We have found a dry cave," said they, "not far round the next corner; and ponies and all could get inside."
"Have you thoroughly explored it?" Asked the wizard, knowing fully well that caves up in the mountains were seldom unoccupied.
"Yes, yes!" they said, but everyone knew they came back too quickly to explore it long. "It isn't that big, and it does not go far back." Though you could never know how far a cave went, this seemed good news enough and before long they arrived at the rocks before the cave. There was just room to get the ponies through with a squeeze, when they had been unpacked and unsaddled. Gandalf lit up his wand and by its light they began to explore the cave from end to end.
It was a fair size, not too large and mysterious. It had a dry floor and comfortable nooks. They put their ponies at one end (who seemed grateful for the change in environment) and Oin and Gloin wanted to light a fire to dry their clothes, but Gandalf would have none of that. So they spread their wet things on the floor and took dry ones out of their bundles. They made their blankets comfortable and got out their pipes (besides Estel naturally) and blew smoke rings, which Gandalf turned into different colours and set dancing by the roof to amuse them. Estel jumped up and down and tried to get to the rings, which magically would move just beyond his reach- teasing him. They talked and talked and forgot about the storm, and discussed what each would do with his share of the treasure.
"What will you do with your share, young Master Elf?" Balin asked jokingly.
"I do not need treasure," Estel argued with conviction. "Gold will never buy happiness. All I wish is for adventures and fights, and I will be pleased."
"I fear you will live to regret such a statement," Gandalf said tutting. "But let us sleep now, for we are weary and the road ahead is greater than the time we have!" And so one by one they dropped off to sleep, and that was the last time they used their ponies; packages; baggages; tools and paraphernalia that they brought with them.
Estel was in the middle of an odd dream, tossing and turning and covered with a thin layer of sweat. In his dream he saw great armies fighting together, his Dwarf friends among them. He saw some Elves, man and other creatures laboring against creatures of the night. He saw men falling with blank eyes and open mouths, as though they were about to say something but died before it left their lips. He saw great carnage and massacre and wanted to shield his eyes, but in the dream his eyes were wide open and unblinking. He saw sights he could not decipher, that flashed by too quickly to register in his mind, he saw faceless people falling and not getting up again. The colours changed and blurred and suddenly he wasn't in the same battle. He saw men of great stature together fighting evil. Saw the death, smelt the decay and tasted the metallic taste of blood. There, amongst the valiant warriors was a lone figure, one destined to such a life. He turned towards Estel and the young boy's breath was caught in his throat. It was the same ageless man with his own dark and ancient grey eyes and unruly dark hair. He immediately recognized him and he swallowed hard, knowing this was what he could expect, these horrors. Then the man smiled at him sadly, as though apologizing for all he would have to endure in the future- this man's past and present. Then the man turned his back on him and with a shrill cry plunged his sword into the enemy's heart-
Estel woke up with a start when he heard a scream not from his dream.
-END PART 3-
Author's note:
This chapter is dedicated to Aralondwen, I hope you ate and slept, girl! Seriously you got me to write this chapter quicker than I intended and motivated me. Well I had my huge test today (yes I learn on Sundays, bumber) so other than being really depressed about it, it gave me a chance to write a bit. I have a few more tests coming up, so I'm not sure when I'llw rite again, but who knows. Your reviews might just push me to write faster, hint hint.
A little explanation, incase some of you didn't get it, like Eugenides:
In my opinion Estel doesn't know that Elrond isn't his real father. Elrond and Gilraen decided to keep it from him because it would revoke questions they're not ready to answer and might be dangerous. They might not have said 'Elrond is your father' but they never said anything to counter it and give him a reason to doubt it. When characters talk about Elrond and Estel I tried my best that they don't specifically say 'your father' (even though he IS his father the moment he adopted him). If anyone understood my babbling, there you go. No fancy quote in the beginning, I'm afraid, but the next will have one.
-Ivy-
