Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof
*****
"Who is it?"
Estel stood outside the door to the quarters assigned to Legolas. Though they had insisted that separate quarters were completely unnecessary, Pellatal--smiling all the while--had given each member of the party his own space. Estel and Legolas were in next-door rooms with the twins across the corridor. "It's Estel."
"Come in."
The boy entered and closed the door behind him, not at all trusting these walls to be without ears and eyes. Legolas was half in and half out of a clean blue tunic. "You heard it, too," Estel stated, without giving Legolas so much as a moment to pull on his tunic fully. "You heard it in his voice when he called me Faith."
"What did I hear?" Legolas asked.
"Stop it, I know you heard it!" Estel snapped. "I'm sorry. It's just. . .the twins did not hear it, I know it, and you. . .you seemed to have heard that hate."
The elven prince turned to his young friend and was surprised to see Estel's eyes trailing about the room. Not such a brave warrior after all, Estel felt afraid! He did not want to be left alone! He would be brave, though. Legolas knew that he would. He did not placate Estel, only told the truth due to the boy's fear--and because Legolas did not wish to be alone, either. "I heard it," he answered. "I fear for you. He hates you."
These words did not hurt Estel, for they contained a truth he knew already. "He hates Men," Estel answered. "What are we to do, Legolas?"
"You tell me," answered the elf. This was not his battle, and he knew that. Here Legolas played the role of onlooker. Elladan and Elrohir were the emissaries meant for this job, but Estel would matter more. Legolas saw that, though he knew not how.
For a moment he considered, then, "Either we tell Elladan and have him on his guard or we do not and hope for the best. I think it best we tell him."
Legolas nodded. "Go on then, and tell him." With a resigned nod Estel turned from the door, and Legolas's heart wrenched as though he had kicked a puppy then turned the animal out into the snow. "Estel--" What was he doing? He had never given out advice. Fine moment to begin it! The boy was looking to Legolas now, awaiting his words, needing them. What, precisely, did he need? "Estel, I am on your side here. There is something I wanted to give you but had not the moment for. . ."
Curious, Estel watched as Legolas drew his knapsack up and hunted through it with a general lack of success. At last he pulled forth a somewhat rumpled, very worn tunic. "I want you to have this. It may not fit." Feeling suddenly quite silly, Legolas shoved the garment into Estel's hands.
"Thank you. What is it?" Estel ventured.
The answer came, "It is a tunic. I, er, that is. . .when my mother. . .when she--" Legolas had trouble saying the word, but managed, "when she died, I ran away to Imladris. Lady CelebrÃan helped me sew grey patches over the heart of a few old tunics. I had lost all but the clothes on my back, so that at one time belonged to the twins. You should have it."
Estel looked up to meet the eyes of his friend, a difference of only half an inch or so, not sure what to say. Legolas started. "Oh, no. I've gone and put my foot in it, haven't I?"
"No. . .no, I know of Lady CelebrÃan," Estel answered. "I just hardly know what to say, this is. . .this is a legacy."
"Don't be stupid, it is only a tunic," Legolas said. He did not want to have a heartfelt moment, not just now at any rate. "Look, the point of these is for strength. When I was younger it helped. . .an awful lot."
"I don't know what to say--"
"Then shut up," Legolas answered not unkindly. "You should wear that when you speak to Elladan--he probably will not remember, but it will give you strength."
~~~
"Elladan, might I speak with you a moment?" Pellatal did not leave after showing the others heir quarters but returned to speak with the one he knew they followed.
Elladan was wary. He knew Pellatal capable of terrible things, and for this would shut him out for ever, but then, Pellatal had once been his close friend. Perhaps, after all, there was goodness in him. "Of course, come in," Elladan answered, holding open the door for his friend.
"Thank you. I will be blunt: there is trouble here. I have seen you fight."
"No." Elladan was shaking his head before the words left Pellatal's mouth. A knot formed and twisted in his stomach. "I am done with that business, I am not a mercenary." And yet. . .and yet. . .Elladan's memories of the event which Pellatal referred to were blurred. . .so much blood. . .so much death. . .A scream rose in his throat, but he choked it down.
Pellatal saw his friend's struggle. "Of course, I do not mean a physical war, Elladan! I ask only your support. Come, we are friends, are we not?"
Beads of sweat climbed down Elladan's neck. "We are friends," he answered.
"I should not have brought this matter before you quite yet; rest now and refresh yourself. After you have seen the city and had a night's sleep, perhaps we will approach the topic again. Peace to you, Elladan."
"Peace to you," he muttered to the closing door. At the thump of the door against its frame Elladan collapsed onto the bed. He recalled those awful days. . .so much violence. . .he remembered slamming doors and his fight with Pellatal. . .but why? Seeing his old friend once more, Elladan felt kinship stronger than anger. Why was I angry? He asked himself this again and again.
A knock at the door interrupted Elladan's troubled mind. "Come in," he called out, getting to his feet so as not to appear defeated.
Estel entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "Elladan, I-- Elladan, what is? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Don't trouble yourself."
He meant no offense by it, but, being young, Estel knew only of pushing people away in the hope that they would fight you, running to be caught. "You look distressed."
Elladan snapped at him in reply, "That is my business and not yours, boy!"
Estel jumped. This wasn't like Elladan! "Sorry," he muttered.
The Elf also was shocked at his behaviour. What was he doing? This was Estel he was speaking to, his own brother! Or, a slippery voice in the back of his mind argued, is he? A mortal and an--what are you, Elladan? When will you choose? You cannot spend your life half and half. Sides must be taken.
Elladan shook his head. Where had that come from? "Do you need something, Estel?" he asked.
"I came to tell you that I do not think it wise to trust Pellatal. He is dangerous."
Elladan looked at the boy. It was all he could do not to shout at him. Why should I trust you over him? "I know, Estel. Leave me be." Estel faltered, but Elladan nodded at the door and he left. The peredhil threw himself onto the bed, ashamed of the way he had treated Estel, half of him feeling too kind and the other half not at all kind enough. He is my brother. . .he is a mortal. . .I love him. . .I hate him. . .
He wanted to scream. Why was this happening? Why was everything coming back- -the blood, those eyes. . .oh, those eyes! His eyes! Elladan fell into a troubled sleep, as Estel ran to speak to Legolas. Something was wrong, very wrong!
*****
To be continued!
*****
"Who is it?"
Estel stood outside the door to the quarters assigned to Legolas. Though they had insisted that separate quarters were completely unnecessary, Pellatal--smiling all the while--had given each member of the party his own space. Estel and Legolas were in next-door rooms with the twins across the corridor. "It's Estel."
"Come in."
The boy entered and closed the door behind him, not at all trusting these walls to be without ears and eyes. Legolas was half in and half out of a clean blue tunic. "You heard it, too," Estel stated, without giving Legolas so much as a moment to pull on his tunic fully. "You heard it in his voice when he called me Faith."
"What did I hear?" Legolas asked.
"Stop it, I know you heard it!" Estel snapped. "I'm sorry. It's just. . .the twins did not hear it, I know it, and you. . .you seemed to have heard that hate."
The elven prince turned to his young friend and was surprised to see Estel's eyes trailing about the room. Not such a brave warrior after all, Estel felt afraid! He did not want to be left alone! He would be brave, though. Legolas knew that he would. He did not placate Estel, only told the truth due to the boy's fear--and because Legolas did not wish to be alone, either. "I heard it," he answered. "I fear for you. He hates you."
These words did not hurt Estel, for they contained a truth he knew already. "He hates Men," Estel answered. "What are we to do, Legolas?"
"You tell me," answered the elf. This was not his battle, and he knew that. Here Legolas played the role of onlooker. Elladan and Elrohir were the emissaries meant for this job, but Estel would matter more. Legolas saw that, though he knew not how.
For a moment he considered, then, "Either we tell Elladan and have him on his guard or we do not and hope for the best. I think it best we tell him."
Legolas nodded. "Go on then, and tell him." With a resigned nod Estel turned from the door, and Legolas's heart wrenched as though he had kicked a puppy then turned the animal out into the snow. "Estel--" What was he doing? He had never given out advice. Fine moment to begin it! The boy was looking to Legolas now, awaiting his words, needing them. What, precisely, did he need? "Estel, I am on your side here. There is something I wanted to give you but had not the moment for. . ."
Curious, Estel watched as Legolas drew his knapsack up and hunted through it with a general lack of success. At last he pulled forth a somewhat rumpled, very worn tunic. "I want you to have this. It may not fit." Feeling suddenly quite silly, Legolas shoved the garment into Estel's hands.
"Thank you. What is it?" Estel ventured.
The answer came, "It is a tunic. I, er, that is. . .when my mother. . .when she--" Legolas had trouble saying the word, but managed, "when she died, I ran away to Imladris. Lady CelebrÃan helped me sew grey patches over the heart of a few old tunics. I had lost all but the clothes on my back, so that at one time belonged to the twins. You should have it."
Estel looked up to meet the eyes of his friend, a difference of only half an inch or so, not sure what to say. Legolas started. "Oh, no. I've gone and put my foot in it, haven't I?"
"No. . .no, I know of Lady CelebrÃan," Estel answered. "I just hardly know what to say, this is. . .this is a legacy."
"Don't be stupid, it is only a tunic," Legolas said. He did not want to have a heartfelt moment, not just now at any rate. "Look, the point of these is for strength. When I was younger it helped. . .an awful lot."
"I don't know what to say--"
"Then shut up," Legolas answered not unkindly. "You should wear that when you speak to Elladan--he probably will not remember, but it will give you strength."
~~~
"Elladan, might I speak with you a moment?" Pellatal did not leave after showing the others heir quarters but returned to speak with the one he knew they followed.
Elladan was wary. He knew Pellatal capable of terrible things, and for this would shut him out for ever, but then, Pellatal had once been his close friend. Perhaps, after all, there was goodness in him. "Of course, come in," Elladan answered, holding open the door for his friend.
"Thank you. I will be blunt: there is trouble here. I have seen you fight."
"No." Elladan was shaking his head before the words left Pellatal's mouth. A knot formed and twisted in his stomach. "I am done with that business, I am not a mercenary." And yet. . .and yet. . .Elladan's memories of the event which Pellatal referred to were blurred. . .so much blood. . .so much death. . .A scream rose in his throat, but he choked it down.
Pellatal saw his friend's struggle. "Of course, I do not mean a physical war, Elladan! I ask only your support. Come, we are friends, are we not?"
Beads of sweat climbed down Elladan's neck. "We are friends," he answered.
"I should not have brought this matter before you quite yet; rest now and refresh yourself. After you have seen the city and had a night's sleep, perhaps we will approach the topic again. Peace to you, Elladan."
"Peace to you," he muttered to the closing door. At the thump of the door against its frame Elladan collapsed onto the bed. He recalled those awful days. . .so much violence. . .he remembered slamming doors and his fight with Pellatal. . .but why? Seeing his old friend once more, Elladan felt kinship stronger than anger. Why was I angry? He asked himself this again and again.
A knock at the door interrupted Elladan's troubled mind. "Come in," he called out, getting to his feet so as not to appear defeated.
Estel entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "Elladan, I-- Elladan, what is? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Don't trouble yourself."
He meant no offense by it, but, being young, Estel knew only of pushing people away in the hope that they would fight you, running to be caught. "You look distressed."
Elladan snapped at him in reply, "That is my business and not yours, boy!"
Estel jumped. This wasn't like Elladan! "Sorry," he muttered.
The Elf also was shocked at his behaviour. What was he doing? This was Estel he was speaking to, his own brother! Or, a slippery voice in the back of his mind argued, is he? A mortal and an--what are you, Elladan? When will you choose? You cannot spend your life half and half. Sides must be taken.
Elladan shook his head. Where had that come from? "Do you need something, Estel?" he asked.
"I came to tell you that I do not think it wise to trust Pellatal. He is dangerous."
Elladan looked at the boy. It was all he could do not to shout at him. Why should I trust you over him? "I know, Estel. Leave me be." Estel faltered, but Elladan nodded at the door and he left. The peredhil threw himself onto the bed, ashamed of the way he had treated Estel, half of him feeling too kind and the other half not at all kind enough. He is my brother. . .he is a mortal. . .I love him. . .I hate him. . .
He wanted to scream. Why was this happening? Why was everything coming back- -the blood, those eyes. . .oh, those eyes! His eyes! Elladan fell into a troubled sleep, as Estel ran to speak to Legolas. Something was wrong, very wrong!
*****
To be continued!
