This chapter is dedicated to Grumpy- if you hadn't reviewed my last
chapter, this one might not have been written for a LONG TIME!
*
"Just one more mornin' I had to wake up with the blues Pulled myself outta bed, yeah Put on my walkin' shoes, Went up on the mountain, To see what i could see, The whole world was fallin', Right down in front of me.
[chorus] 'cause i'm hung up on dreams i'll never see, yeah baby..." Dreams, The Allman Brothers Band
*
Before long Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Estel watched dazed as the animals went in and out, carrying torches and boards in their mouths or with their forefeet. Some snow-white sheep came in and started setting the hall for dinner. As they all sat at the table, Estel thought long and hard about a grave matter:
Should he request an eagle for a pet, or one of these servant-pets?
Although he would have preferred both, he knew there was not a chance in Middle Earth his father would agree to it, so he had to focus his efforts into one of them. Did Beorn train these animals personally, or could any animal behave in such a manner? Estel hadn't the faintest clue, since he never had the good fortunes of having a pet. But that was going to change, if he had anything to say in the matter. Maybe he could convince Elrohir and Elladan that what they need now is a pet, and the three of them could work on Elrond...
As Estel ate the splendid supper, he couldn't ignore the knot in his stomach. Feasts such as these he only had at home, and only in instances where there was a mighty gathering. Of course this was the first time he was allowed at the grownup table, normally back home he was shied into the kitchen, or to his room to eat with his mother. A sudden doubt crept through his defenses: Was Elrond ashamed of him? He was not his true son; perhaps he did not want those important people to know that he brought a mortal into his home, a lowlife. A wetness threatened his eyes and he quickly wiped it away before anyone could notice.
"Is everything all right?" Bilbo, who sat next to him whispered, concerned- was that a tear he tried to wipe away?
"Yes," Estel said quickly, forcing a grin. "It- it was merely something in my eye." He had to be more careful. A good elf was in control of his emotions, like Elrond. But he was not an elf, now was he? Estel glanced at Beorn, who was telling tales in his deep rolling voice of the wild lands on this side of the mountain and the terrible forest of Mirkwood. Estel frowned.
"But Ada told me elves live in those forests," he said confused, to no one in particular. "Why is it so perilous?"
"Elves, you say?" Bilbo asked excited. "I do hope so! I miss Rivendell- they certainly know how to feed a Hobbit! And the elves there- magical!"
"Not all elves are magical," Estel muttered under his breath, trying not to pout. Only small children pout, and he was not one, not after all that has happened.
"Their songs," Bilbo continued, not hearing a word he said, a faraway look in his eyes. "They have the clearest voices I have ever heard- like bells being swayed by a breeze..." He suddenly remembered that Estel was sitting right next to him. "Oh I'm awfully sorry, truly I am," he said embarrassed. "Here I am, going on and on about the wonders of your home- you must be dreadfully homesick!" Estel opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. He had no answer to that other than- "Yes."
"Must have been wonderful, though," Bilbo continued, as the voices of the dwarves speaking of gold and silver and jewels. "Growing up in such a fine place, that is."
"It is the only home I have," Estel sighed quietly. 'Maybe now that I know Ada isn't my real father, he will send me and mother away? Where would we go? Surely she comes from somewhere else, would we live among men? What would it be like?' There were so many questions that only kept adding up. Estel wanted nothing more than to steal Gandalf aside, lock him in a room with him and make him answer his questions. Gandalf was wise and old and a wizard- he knew almost everything! He could answer his questions with ease, he knew he could!
Estel stabbed at his food and dared a glance at Gandalf, who was sitting closer to Beorn than he was. Estel concentrated hard and willed Gandalf to look his way. Wizards could perform all sorts of wonders, why not read thoughts? It seemed, however, that even if Gandalf felt Estel's burning glaze he chose not to respond to it. Estel sighed and looked around the table for some distraction from his troubling thoughts. Bilbo was nodding off besides him as the night came on outside. He missed another sunset. He searched and found Gloin, looking rather content with himself a few dwarves away in front of him. He caught his eye and leaned forward.
"We are to travel into Mirkwood?" He asked Gloin casually, trying to make conversation.
Gloin shuddered. "Yes, I'm afraid so."
"Don't wood-elves live in Mirkwood?" Estel asked confused. Surely they did not fear elves, not after being houseguests at Imladris! He tried to remember what his father told him once during a lesson. "Father says that they dwell most often by the edges of the wood and aren't too keen on strangers. They love the stars, mostly, but they also love the moon-"
"That all may be so, master elf," Gloin said briskly, "But there are also others in Mirkwood, creatures not as pleasant as your fair elves." He took a great gulp of drink from his mug and that was that. The great door creaked and slammed. Estel glanced around and noticed that Beorn was gone. He had a strange sensation at the pit of his stomach, it was almost as if he had stones there, weighing him down. He did not know why he felt this way, but what he did know was that he needed a distraction. Unfortunately it was at that time that the dwarves, now sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, began to sing.
Estel sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Why was he feeling so miserable? He went on this journey to fight dragons and have fun- not to sit around feeling sorry for himself. Why did Gloin have to call him 'master elf'... Was he jesting at his expense? It is clear as daylight that he is not and never was an elf, only a fool would think that...
"It is time for us to sleep," Gandalf interrupted his thoughts. "-For us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: You must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril." Everyone moved to the side of the hall where beds were laid for them on a raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. Estel snuggled into his woolen blankets, remaining close to Gandalf. He did not sleep very well during the night, with so many questions buzzing through his head. Several times he almost nudged Gandalf, but changed his mind. He was afraid of annoying the wizard, who promised to answer his questions when they were alone.
He yawned tiredly and tried to steer his mind clear of burning questions. He jumped when he heard a growling sound outside and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. He kept telling himself it was probably Beorn in his enchanted shape and nothing dangerous. After all, Gandalf trusts him, why shouldn't Estel? He pictured in his mind's eye Beorn turning into a great black bear with huge claws and sharp teeth. He saw him fighting goblins and wargs, growing in size and rage. The Eagles flew from above, shrieking as they swooped down on their foes. He could clearly see Elves, Men and Dwarves fighting side by side-
Was that Gandalf?
Estel squinted harder until he could see clearly the wizard's form. He was fighting ferociously, slaying any that came near. A warg jumped on him from behind, sinking his teeth into his arm. He heard Gandalf cry out in pain, before thrusting the sword behind him, killing the beast. He shoved the dead weight off him, his face pale and in pain. He glanced down wearily at his bloodied arm, before swaying precariously and then-
"NO!"
Estel tried taking huge gulps of air as he sat up panting. It took him a moment to realize it was his own anguished scream that woke him up. He glanced around quickly, not spotting Gandalf. He seemed to have woken up several dwarves that were still sleeping. Bilbo was the only one still sleeping.
"Gandalf!" Estel shrieked. He scrambled to his feet and started looking around panicking. "Gandalf! Where is he?" He asked, a sickening feeling creeping up on him. Gandalf was all right... Gandalf had to be all right...
"I am right here," Gandalf said slightly impatiently. "I was actually having a pleasant breakfast out on the veranda, when you started screaming like a madman! Honestly child, do you ever-" He was cut short when Estel rushed over to him and attached himself to the wizard's waist.
Gandalf looked down at Estel, who suddenly appeared so young and frightened. Estel was actually sobbing quietly, something very unusual for this young one. Gandalf gently lifted the boy into his arms and quickly stepped outside, not even sparing a glance at the surprised dwarves, staring at the sight. Once they were outside and alone he sat down on a bench and placed the boy on his knees gently. Estel regained his composure and wiped at his red-rimed eyes. The redness only intensified his expressive grey eyes, now moving back and forth from horror to sadness.
"Child," Gandalf asked worried, though he tried to sound soothing. "What has frightened you so?"
Estel swallowed several times, trying to utter the words. He finally looked down shamefully, hiccupped and stated: "A dream, a very bad dream."
Gandalf nearly chuckled with relief, until he saw the anguished look in Estel's face. He simply nodded and asked: "What did you dream of?" Estel shifted uncomfortably on Gandalf's lap, but didn't seem to want to get down. He glanced at Gandalf briefly, before looking away, shaking the image of the wounded Gandalf from his mind.
"I dreamt that you were killed."
Gandalf straightened at that and peered intently at Estel. He was careful to keep his voice neutral, so as not to scare Estel further. "Indeed? How was I killed?" Estel visibly shook at the memory, but tried to give as many details as possible.
"There was *hiccup* some war- you and Beorn were fighting *hiccup* goblins and wargs. There were also eagles, Dwarves, Men and elves fighting the goblins. *Hiccup* you were fighting so many evil creatures at once and a warg jumped *hick* on you and bit into your arm or your shoulder, I don't remember. You killed it, but there was so much blood, your arm was torn and bleeding and then I think you collapsed, or were about to," Estel finally looked up at Gandalf, fresh tears welling in his eyes. "It was so terrible!"
Gandalf looked out into the distance thoughtfully. He did not realize until now that the child had his mother's foresight. A war will soon be upon the companions and -apparently- five armies. He almost began pondering the details of the dream when he noticed the big grey eyes peering at him intently, waiting to see what words of wisdom and comfort could he offer. He shook his head and decided to peruse the matter later; right now there was a distraught child that needed him.
"It could simply be a bad dream," Gandalf said casually, "I dare say you've had plenty horrible things to dream of." Estel nodded, but did not seem convinced. He seemed to believe this dream signified what was yet to come. He wondered how many dreams such as these, did Estel have. He clearly remembered the boy waking up frightened and pale from some dream or other during the night, what other horrors, was this poor soul forced to witness? He further wondered if Estel's sudden revelation regarding the identity of his father was a part of his maturing, or courtesy of another dream.
"Perhaps it is not." Gandalf concluded, before asking softly: "Estel- what makes you think I died in your dream?" Estel gaped at him, not believing his ears. After being forced to relive that nightmare he was now forced to state the obvious to an esteem wizard?
"You were wounded badly," Estel said slowly, trying to make Gandalf understand. "And you fell."
"I see," Gandalf said, a touch of humor in his eyes. "And do all who are wounded, die? I seem to recall a stubborn little child of the age of four, climbing the tallest tree in the forest in order to prove he was a good elf. Do you remember what happened to that child?"
Estel sighed; he was hoping everyone forgot about that embarrassing moment. "I fell- from the top of the tree."
"Yes," Gandalf said gravely. "You were severely wounded- a concussion, broken arm and sprained ribs- you were lucky to have survived at all. You gave Lord Elrond quite the fright. He did not move from your bedside for five whole days-neither sleeping nor eating- until your regained consciousness and he was convinced you were alright."
"He did?" Estel asked surprised. All he remembered from that incident was the embarrassment of having to explain to his father what he was doing in the tree in the first place, being punished by his father and mocked by the other elves. He could not imagine his stern father sitting by his bedside worried sick.
"Your father, though he may not always show it or tell you, loves you deeply." Gandalf was slightly taken aback that Estel was shocked his father would care so much. He could still see doubt in his eyes, but decided to have a word with Elrond later regarding showering Estel with the love and comfort he needs.
"Well, as I was saying- you cannot be certain I was killed in your dream, I may have only been injured. It will take more than a silly warg to kill Gandalf the Grey!" Gandalf said puffing his chest, causing Estel to giggle at the sight. It was good to hear him laugh.
Estel slid off of Gandalf and stood facing him. "Thank you Gandalf," he said sincerely, before his smile slightly wavered. "I am sorry I was such a fool." He scowled at himself, not believing he actually cried- and about a silly dream he read wrong, nonetheless! What would the elves at Rivendell think of him...
"You have nothing to apologize for," Gandalf laid a reassuring hand on Estel's shoulder. "Even adults have frightening dreams occasionally and you were anything but foolish. In fact, I believe you have matured greatly during this voyage." At the skeptical look on Estel's face, he continued. "Indeed! I think you have matured enough to come tracking with me."
"Tracking? Really?" Estel asked excited, jumping slightly in the air. Elladan and Elrohir would surely be impressed with him, tracking-
"What exactly ARE we tracking, Gandalf?" Estel asked, as he followed Gandalf, trying to keep up with his long strides. Gandalf did not answer; instead he hushed Estel and motioned for him to keep quiet. Estel bit his lip and nodded his head gravely. Gandalf stopped right outside the gate and hunched low on the ground, clearly looking for something. Estel did the same and tried to find what it was Gandalf was looking for. He would have asked, but Gandalf told him to be quiet, and he feared that if he asked the wrong question Gandalf would regret allowing him this privilege. And the last thing Estel wanted was to be deemed unworthy of tracking- whatever they were tracking.
"Look," Gandalf whispered after a long pause, pointing at the ground. "What do you see here?" Estel tried to scoot over, but Gandalf grabbed him. "Don't walk ON the tracks you silly boy, we want them to stay in tact!" Estel blushed at the admonishing, cursing himself silently for being so rash and stupid. He bent his head low and walked over to Gandalf, careful not to step on the markings he now noticed. Gandalf looked at him intently and Estel realized he didn't answer his questions.
"I see..." Estel saw slowly, afraid of making a mistake. "I see creature tracks." He looked up quickly at Gandalf, but he merely nodded at him to continue. Estel stammered, not quite sure what Gandalf wanted him to see.
"Tracking is like solving a puzzle, you must ask yourself several questions, in order to see the entire picture: How many tracks are they? What made the track? Is it one race or several? What size is it? Where did it come from? In which direction did it head? And the hardest question- how long ago was the creature here?" Gandalf explained without a hint of a lecture. Estel absorbed it all, determined to prove himself.
"Now," Gandalf turned to Estel. "Describe to me the tracks."
Estel scrunched his face in concentration, his entire focus the puzzle before him. He decided to answer the easier questions first. "There are many different tracks."
"How can you be certain the same being is not making them all?" Gandalf asked him, as he slowly rose and stretched his back. Estel remained focused on the ground.
"Well, look over there-", Estel pointed. "Those are very small tracks, and these over here and slightly larger and there are some HUGE tracks over there." He was so intent on the ground he did not notice the encouraging smile on Gandalf's face.
"How many races were here?" Gandalf asked him, leaning back against the fence.
Estel was about to answer before he closed his mouth and decided to glance again to be certain. "One race, I think." He said not quite sure of himself. He turned back to glance at Gandalf, who was wearing a cryptic mask over his features. "Am I wrong?" Estel asked when Gandalf did not answer.
"Why do you think there was only one race present?" Gandalf asked, not answering Estel's question.
"I thought," Estel muttered dejectedly, feeling like he failed one of Elrond's quizzes. "The tracks, though they vary in size, all look alike."
Gandalf nodded thoughtfully, accepting his logic. "What creature would you say made these tracks?" Estel sighed, knowing he wasn't doing well at all.
"I don't know," he finally said, completely deflated. He glanced again at the tracks, willing them to tell him. He tried to think of what race made such round tracks with short, sharp edges. He suddenly noticed something he could not believe he didn't notice until now.
"It walks on four!" He exclaimed a bit too loud, immediately being hushed by Gandalf. "See- there are four identical prints at all times. It does not cover its feet. It's not a hobbit- Bilbo's feet are different, they don't have sharp edges and aren't that round..." His thoughts reverted to his dream from the other night. He could see Beorn standing gigantically on two and plummeting his massive paw into an enemy-
"Bear!" Estel said, jumping from his crouch and rounding on Gandalf. "It's bear tracks! I had a good look at Beorn's paws in my dream- they're round with sharp, short claws, just like in the tracks!" He smiled proudly up at Gandalf, who couldn't help but smile back and shake his head.
"You will make an excellent tracker, my dear boy," Gandalf said impressed. "It was a very hard task for a first time tracker, but you've exceeded expectations." Estel had to duck his head, so that Gandalf could not see the slight blush at such a compliment.
"There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here," Gandalf mused. He followed the tracks with his eyes, turning several times in his spot, careful not to disturb the tracks. "They came from almost every direction..." Estel heard the "almost" and immediately followed the tracks as well, intent on finding the "almost" direction. He grinned satisfied.
"Except from the west," Estel glanced at Gandalf. "Over the river, from the mountains. There is only one set of prints in that direction." He saw that Gandalf was about to ask his a question and he hurriedly added: "The foot prints are going away from here in that direction, there are none coming back." Gandalf humphed, causing Estel to grin smugly. He was rewarded by a tug on the ear.
"It is quite rude to interrupt a wizard, or anyone else for that matter."
"How can it be interrupting if you didn't manage to say anything?" Estel asked innocently and received a slap upside down his head. "Owww!"
"Be thankful I do not wish to dent my staff on that hollow head of yours!" Gandalf warned, but couldn't help the smile on his face. He shook his head and bent low over the tracks, inspecting them closely. He pressed the side of his head to the tracks and seemed contemplating something. Estel waited eagerly for him to finish, wanting to know what he was doing.
"It is as I thought," Gandalf said, finally rising and looking out into the west. "The meeting took place from dark to nearly dawn."
"How can you tell?" Estel asked impressed, bending low over the tracks, trying to see what Gandalf saw.
"The tracks are fairly cold, which means the bears were here hours ago at least. Furthermore, the prints are clear, the ground was obviously moist when the bears held their meeting. It rained late last night, until right before dawn." Estel looked at Gandalf shocked.
"Besides," Gandalf said, winking at Estel. "I heard them all last night until nearly dawn."
Estel laughed, shaking his head at the strange and funny wizard.
"Shall we?" Gandalf asked, following the biggest tracks that were leading west.
"Those are Beorn's tracks, aren't they?" Estel asked, glancing at Gandalf a bit worried. Gandalf nodded, waiting for him to follow him. "We're tracking BEORN???" Estel asked astonished. "Why are we tracking our host down? Isn't it... Rude?" Gandalf chuckled and kept following the tracks. Estel had to run in order to catch up. "Won't he get mad if he finds out?"
"Which is precisely why we need to make sure he DOESN'T find out," Gandalf said seriously, finally turning to Estel. "Won't we?"
Estel sighed and nodded and the two set off to track Beorn down.
*END CHAPTER 9*
Author's Note: Man! When I first started writing this, I was afraid it would be too short! Then it came out 6,282 words, so I decided to divide it into two chapters. Unlike "Kill Bill" or "The Matrix", I plan on putting the next part up in...say a week? Tops two? I have it here. Like I said, there are about 2-3 more chapters (I haven't written them yet) until the end of this story and if anyone is wondering there will be Legolas in the last chapter or the one before- something to look forward to!
When I started writing this it was supposed to be a sweet growing up story. Now look what I'm doing to poor, poor Estel!
Grumpy- I'm glad you love my Gandalf, the Dwarves and Estel, it means the world to me! When I started writing this chapter (now it's two chapters) you were my only reviewer, so this chapter is dedicated to you, because if you hadn't reviewed it and told me you loved my characters and want more, I might have quit already! So thank you so very much!
G.P.- I wrote more! Heehee.
*
"Just one more mornin' I had to wake up with the blues Pulled myself outta bed, yeah Put on my walkin' shoes, Went up on the mountain, To see what i could see, The whole world was fallin', Right down in front of me.
[chorus] 'cause i'm hung up on dreams i'll never see, yeah baby..." Dreams, The Allman Brothers Band
*
Before long Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Estel watched dazed as the animals went in and out, carrying torches and boards in their mouths or with their forefeet. Some snow-white sheep came in and started setting the hall for dinner. As they all sat at the table, Estel thought long and hard about a grave matter:
Should he request an eagle for a pet, or one of these servant-pets?
Although he would have preferred both, he knew there was not a chance in Middle Earth his father would agree to it, so he had to focus his efforts into one of them. Did Beorn train these animals personally, or could any animal behave in such a manner? Estel hadn't the faintest clue, since he never had the good fortunes of having a pet. But that was going to change, if he had anything to say in the matter. Maybe he could convince Elrohir and Elladan that what they need now is a pet, and the three of them could work on Elrond...
As Estel ate the splendid supper, he couldn't ignore the knot in his stomach. Feasts such as these he only had at home, and only in instances where there was a mighty gathering. Of course this was the first time he was allowed at the grownup table, normally back home he was shied into the kitchen, or to his room to eat with his mother. A sudden doubt crept through his defenses: Was Elrond ashamed of him? He was not his true son; perhaps he did not want those important people to know that he brought a mortal into his home, a lowlife. A wetness threatened his eyes and he quickly wiped it away before anyone could notice.
"Is everything all right?" Bilbo, who sat next to him whispered, concerned- was that a tear he tried to wipe away?
"Yes," Estel said quickly, forcing a grin. "It- it was merely something in my eye." He had to be more careful. A good elf was in control of his emotions, like Elrond. But he was not an elf, now was he? Estel glanced at Beorn, who was telling tales in his deep rolling voice of the wild lands on this side of the mountain and the terrible forest of Mirkwood. Estel frowned.
"But Ada told me elves live in those forests," he said confused, to no one in particular. "Why is it so perilous?"
"Elves, you say?" Bilbo asked excited. "I do hope so! I miss Rivendell- they certainly know how to feed a Hobbit! And the elves there- magical!"
"Not all elves are magical," Estel muttered under his breath, trying not to pout. Only small children pout, and he was not one, not after all that has happened.
"Their songs," Bilbo continued, not hearing a word he said, a faraway look in his eyes. "They have the clearest voices I have ever heard- like bells being swayed by a breeze..." He suddenly remembered that Estel was sitting right next to him. "Oh I'm awfully sorry, truly I am," he said embarrassed. "Here I am, going on and on about the wonders of your home- you must be dreadfully homesick!" Estel opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. He had no answer to that other than- "Yes."
"Must have been wonderful, though," Bilbo continued, as the voices of the dwarves speaking of gold and silver and jewels. "Growing up in such a fine place, that is."
"It is the only home I have," Estel sighed quietly. 'Maybe now that I know Ada isn't my real father, he will send me and mother away? Where would we go? Surely she comes from somewhere else, would we live among men? What would it be like?' There were so many questions that only kept adding up. Estel wanted nothing more than to steal Gandalf aside, lock him in a room with him and make him answer his questions. Gandalf was wise and old and a wizard- he knew almost everything! He could answer his questions with ease, he knew he could!
Estel stabbed at his food and dared a glance at Gandalf, who was sitting closer to Beorn than he was. Estel concentrated hard and willed Gandalf to look his way. Wizards could perform all sorts of wonders, why not read thoughts? It seemed, however, that even if Gandalf felt Estel's burning glaze he chose not to respond to it. Estel sighed and looked around the table for some distraction from his troubling thoughts. Bilbo was nodding off besides him as the night came on outside. He missed another sunset. He searched and found Gloin, looking rather content with himself a few dwarves away in front of him. He caught his eye and leaned forward.
"We are to travel into Mirkwood?" He asked Gloin casually, trying to make conversation.
Gloin shuddered. "Yes, I'm afraid so."
"Don't wood-elves live in Mirkwood?" Estel asked confused. Surely they did not fear elves, not after being houseguests at Imladris! He tried to remember what his father told him once during a lesson. "Father says that they dwell most often by the edges of the wood and aren't too keen on strangers. They love the stars, mostly, but they also love the moon-"
"That all may be so, master elf," Gloin said briskly, "But there are also others in Mirkwood, creatures not as pleasant as your fair elves." He took a great gulp of drink from his mug and that was that. The great door creaked and slammed. Estel glanced around and noticed that Beorn was gone. He had a strange sensation at the pit of his stomach, it was almost as if he had stones there, weighing him down. He did not know why he felt this way, but what he did know was that he needed a distraction. Unfortunately it was at that time that the dwarves, now sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, began to sing.
Estel sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Why was he feeling so miserable? He went on this journey to fight dragons and have fun- not to sit around feeling sorry for himself. Why did Gloin have to call him 'master elf'... Was he jesting at his expense? It is clear as daylight that he is not and never was an elf, only a fool would think that...
"It is time for us to sleep," Gandalf interrupted his thoughts. "-For us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: You must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril." Everyone moved to the side of the hall where beds were laid for them on a raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. Estel snuggled into his woolen blankets, remaining close to Gandalf. He did not sleep very well during the night, with so many questions buzzing through his head. Several times he almost nudged Gandalf, but changed his mind. He was afraid of annoying the wizard, who promised to answer his questions when they were alone.
He yawned tiredly and tried to steer his mind clear of burning questions. He jumped when he heard a growling sound outside and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. He kept telling himself it was probably Beorn in his enchanted shape and nothing dangerous. After all, Gandalf trusts him, why shouldn't Estel? He pictured in his mind's eye Beorn turning into a great black bear with huge claws and sharp teeth. He saw him fighting goblins and wargs, growing in size and rage. The Eagles flew from above, shrieking as they swooped down on their foes. He could clearly see Elves, Men and Dwarves fighting side by side-
Was that Gandalf?
Estel squinted harder until he could see clearly the wizard's form. He was fighting ferociously, slaying any that came near. A warg jumped on him from behind, sinking his teeth into his arm. He heard Gandalf cry out in pain, before thrusting the sword behind him, killing the beast. He shoved the dead weight off him, his face pale and in pain. He glanced down wearily at his bloodied arm, before swaying precariously and then-
"NO!"
Estel tried taking huge gulps of air as he sat up panting. It took him a moment to realize it was his own anguished scream that woke him up. He glanced around quickly, not spotting Gandalf. He seemed to have woken up several dwarves that were still sleeping. Bilbo was the only one still sleeping.
"Gandalf!" Estel shrieked. He scrambled to his feet and started looking around panicking. "Gandalf! Where is he?" He asked, a sickening feeling creeping up on him. Gandalf was all right... Gandalf had to be all right...
"I am right here," Gandalf said slightly impatiently. "I was actually having a pleasant breakfast out on the veranda, when you started screaming like a madman! Honestly child, do you ever-" He was cut short when Estel rushed over to him and attached himself to the wizard's waist.
Gandalf looked down at Estel, who suddenly appeared so young and frightened. Estel was actually sobbing quietly, something very unusual for this young one. Gandalf gently lifted the boy into his arms and quickly stepped outside, not even sparing a glance at the surprised dwarves, staring at the sight. Once they were outside and alone he sat down on a bench and placed the boy on his knees gently. Estel regained his composure and wiped at his red-rimed eyes. The redness only intensified his expressive grey eyes, now moving back and forth from horror to sadness.
"Child," Gandalf asked worried, though he tried to sound soothing. "What has frightened you so?"
Estel swallowed several times, trying to utter the words. He finally looked down shamefully, hiccupped and stated: "A dream, a very bad dream."
Gandalf nearly chuckled with relief, until he saw the anguished look in Estel's face. He simply nodded and asked: "What did you dream of?" Estel shifted uncomfortably on Gandalf's lap, but didn't seem to want to get down. He glanced at Gandalf briefly, before looking away, shaking the image of the wounded Gandalf from his mind.
"I dreamt that you were killed."
Gandalf straightened at that and peered intently at Estel. He was careful to keep his voice neutral, so as not to scare Estel further. "Indeed? How was I killed?" Estel visibly shook at the memory, but tried to give as many details as possible.
"There was *hiccup* some war- you and Beorn were fighting *hiccup* goblins and wargs. There were also eagles, Dwarves, Men and elves fighting the goblins. *Hiccup* you were fighting so many evil creatures at once and a warg jumped *hick* on you and bit into your arm or your shoulder, I don't remember. You killed it, but there was so much blood, your arm was torn and bleeding and then I think you collapsed, or were about to," Estel finally looked up at Gandalf, fresh tears welling in his eyes. "It was so terrible!"
Gandalf looked out into the distance thoughtfully. He did not realize until now that the child had his mother's foresight. A war will soon be upon the companions and -apparently- five armies. He almost began pondering the details of the dream when he noticed the big grey eyes peering at him intently, waiting to see what words of wisdom and comfort could he offer. He shook his head and decided to peruse the matter later; right now there was a distraught child that needed him.
"It could simply be a bad dream," Gandalf said casually, "I dare say you've had plenty horrible things to dream of." Estel nodded, but did not seem convinced. He seemed to believe this dream signified what was yet to come. He wondered how many dreams such as these, did Estel have. He clearly remembered the boy waking up frightened and pale from some dream or other during the night, what other horrors, was this poor soul forced to witness? He further wondered if Estel's sudden revelation regarding the identity of his father was a part of his maturing, or courtesy of another dream.
"Perhaps it is not." Gandalf concluded, before asking softly: "Estel- what makes you think I died in your dream?" Estel gaped at him, not believing his ears. After being forced to relive that nightmare he was now forced to state the obvious to an esteem wizard?
"You were wounded badly," Estel said slowly, trying to make Gandalf understand. "And you fell."
"I see," Gandalf said, a touch of humor in his eyes. "And do all who are wounded, die? I seem to recall a stubborn little child of the age of four, climbing the tallest tree in the forest in order to prove he was a good elf. Do you remember what happened to that child?"
Estel sighed; he was hoping everyone forgot about that embarrassing moment. "I fell- from the top of the tree."
"Yes," Gandalf said gravely. "You were severely wounded- a concussion, broken arm and sprained ribs- you were lucky to have survived at all. You gave Lord Elrond quite the fright. He did not move from your bedside for five whole days-neither sleeping nor eating- until your regained consciousness and he was convinced you were alright."
"He did?" Estel asked surprised. All he remembered from that incident was the embarrassment of having to explain to his father what he was doing in the tree in the first place, being punished by his father and mocked by the other elves. He could not imagine his stern father sitting by his bedside worried sick.
"Your father, though he may not always show it or tell you, loves you deeply." Gandalf was slightly taken aback that Estel was shocked his father would care so much. He could still see doubt in his eyes, but decided to have a word with Elrond later regarding showering Estel with the love and comfort he needs.
"Well, as I was saying- you cannot be certain I was killed in your dream, I may have only been injured. It will take more than a silly warg to kill Gandalf the Grey!" Gandalf said puffing his chest, causing Estel to giggle at the sight. It was good to hear him laugh.
Estel slid off of Gandalf and stood facing him. "Thank you Gandalf," he said sincerely, before his smile slightly wavered. "I am sorry I was such a fool." He scowled at himself, not believing he actually cried- and about a silly dream he read wrong, nonetheless! What would the elves at Rivendell think of him...
"You have nothing to apologize for," Gandalf laid a reassuring hand on Estel's shoulder. "Even adults have frightening dreams occasionally and you were anything but foolish. In fact, I believe you have matured greatly during this voyage." At the skeptical look on Estel's face, he continued. "Indeed! I think you have matured enough to come tracking with me."
"Tracking? Really?" Estel asked excited, jumping slightly in the air. Elladan and Elrohir would surely be impressed with him, tracking-
"What exactly ARE we tracking, Gandalf?" Estel asked, as he followed Gandalf, trying to keep up with his long strides. Gandalf did not answer; instead he hushed Estel and motioned for him to keep quiet. Estel bit his lip and nodded his head gravely. Gandalf stopped right outside the gate and hunched low on the ground, clearly looking for something. Estel did the same and tried to find what it was Gandalf was looking for. He would have asked, but Gandalf told him to be quiet, and he feared that if he asked the wrong question Gandalf would regret allowing him this privilege. And the last thing Estel wanted was to be deemed unworthy of tracking- whatever they were tracking.
"Look," Gandalf whispered after a long pause, pointing at the ground. "What do you see here?" Estel tried to scoot over, but Gandalf grabbed him. "Don't walk ON the tracks you silly boy, we want them to stay in tact!" Estel blushed at the admonishing, cursing himself silently for being so rash and stupid. He bent his head low and walked over to Gandalf, careful not to step on the markings he now noticed. Gandalf looked at him intently and Estel realized he didn't answer his questions.
"I see..." Estel saw slowly, afraid of making a mistake. "I see creature tracks." He looked up quickly at Gandalf, but he merely nodded at him to continue. Estel stammered, not quite sure what Gandalf wanted him to see.
"Tracking is like solving a puzzle, you must ask yourself several questions, in order to see the entire picture: How many tracks are they? What made the track? Is it one race or several? What size is it? Where did it come from? In which direction did it head? And the hardest question- how long ago was the creature here?" Gandalf explained without a hint of a lecture. Estel absorbed it all, determined to prove himself.
"Now," Gandalf turned to Estel. "Describe to me the tracks."
Estel scrunched his face in concentration, his entire focus the puzzle before him. He decided to answer the easier questions first. "There are many different tracks."
"How can you be certain the same being is not making them all?" Gandalf asked him, as he slowly rose and stretched his back. Estel remained focused on the ground.
"Well, look over there-", Estel pointed. "Those are very small tracks, and these over here and slightly larger and there are some HUGE tracks over there." He was so intent on the ground he did not notice the encouraging smile on Gandalf's face.
"How many races were here?" Gandalf asked him, leaning back against the fence.
Estel was about to answer before he closed his mouth and decided to glance again to be certain. "One race, I think." He said not quite sure of himself. He turned back to glance at Gandalf, who was wearing a cryptic mask over his features. "Am I wrong?" Estel asked when Gandalf did not answer.
"Why do you think there was only one race present?" Gandalf asked, not answering Estel's question.
"I thought," Estel muttered dejectedly, feeling like he failed one of Elrond's quizzes. "The tracks, though they vary in size, all look alike."
Gandalf nodded thoughtfully, accepting his logic. "What creature would you say made these tracks?" Estel sighed, knowing he wasn't doing well at all.
"I don't know," he finally said, completely deflated. He glanced again at the tracks, willing them to tell him. He tried to think of what race made such round tracks with short, sharp edges. He suddenly noticed something he could not believe he didn't notice until now.
"It walks on four!" He exclaimed a bit too loud, immediately being hushed by Gandalf. "See- there are four identical prints at all times. It does not cover its feet. It's not a hobbit- Bilbo's feet are different, they don't have sharp edges and aren't that round..." His thoughts reverted to his dream from the other night. He could see Beorn standing gigantically on two and plummeting his massive paw into an enemy-
"Bear!" Estel said, jumping from his crouch and rounding on Gandalf. "It's bear tracks! I had a good look at Beorn's paws in my dream- they're round with sharp, short claws, just like in the tracks!" He smiled proudly up at Gandalf, who couldn't help but smile back and shake his head.
"You will make an excellent tracker, my dear boy," Gandalf said impressed. "It was a very hard task for a first time tracker, but you've exceeded expectations." Estel had to duck his head, so that Gandalf could not see the slight blush at such a compliment.
"There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here," Gandalf mused. He followed the tracks with his eyes, turning several times in his spot, careful not to disturb the tracks. "They came from almost every direction..." Estel heard the "almost" and immediately followed the tracks as well, intent on finding the "almost" direction. He grinned satisfied.
"Except from the west," Estel glanced at Gandalf. "Over the river, from the mountains. There is only one set of prints in that direction." He saw that Gandalf was about to ask his a question and he hurriedly added: "The foot prints are going away from here in that direction, there are none coming back." Gandalf humphed, causing Estel to grin smugly. He was rewarded by a tug on the ear.
"It is quite rude to interrupt a wizard, or anyone else for that matter."
"How can it be interrupting if you didn't manage to say anything?" Estel asked innocently and received a slap upside down his head. "Owww!"
"Be thankful I do not wish to dent my staff on that hollow head of yours!" Gandalf warned, but couldn't help the smile on his face. He shook his head and bent low over the tracks, inspecting them closely. He pressed the side of his head to the tracks and seemed contemplating something. Estel waited eagerly for him to finish, wanting to know what he was doing.
"It is as I thought," Gandalf said, finally rising and looking out into the west. "The meeting took place from dark to nearly dawn."
"How can you tell?" Estel asked impressed, bending low over the tracks, trying to see what Gandalf saw.
"The tracks are fairly cold, which means the bears were here hours ago at least. Furthermore, the prints are clear, the ground was obviously moist when the bears held their meeting. It rained late last night, until right before dawn." Estel looked at Gandalf shocked.
"Besides," Gandalf said, winking at Estel. "I heard them all last night until nearly dawn."
Estel laughed, shaking his head at the strange and funny wizard.
"Shall we?" Gandalf asked, following the biggest tracks that were leading west.
"Those are Beorn's tracks, aren't they?" Estel asked, glancing at Gandalf a bit worried. Gandalf nodded, waiting for him to follow him. "We're tracking BEORN???" Estel asked astonished. "Why are we tracking our host down? Isn't it... Rude?" Gandalf chuckled and kept following the tracks. Estel had to run in order to catch up. "Won't he get mad if he finds out?"
"Which is precisely why we need to make sure he DOESN'T find out," Gandalf said seriously, finally turning to Estel. "Won't we?"
Estel sighed and nodded and the two set off to track Beorn down.
*END CHAPTER 9*
Author's Note: Man! When I first started writing this, I was afraid it would be too short! Then it came out 6,282 words, so I decided to divide it into two chapters. Unlike "Kill Bill" or "The Matrix", I plan on putting the next part up in...say a week? Tops two? I have it here. Like I said, there are about 2-3 more chapters (I haven't written them yet) until the end of this story and if anyone is wondering there will be Legolas in the last chapter or the one before- something to look forward to!
When I started writing this it was supposed to be a sweet growing up story. Now look what I'm doing to poor, poor Estel!
Grumpy- I'm glad you love my Gandalf, the Dwarves and Estel, it means the world to me! When I started writing this chapter (now it's two chapters) you were my only reviewer, so this chapter is dedicated to you, because if you hadn't reviewed it and told me you loved my characters and want more, I might have quit already! So thank you so very much!
G.P.- I wrote more! Heehee.
