Title: Kindled Flame
Author: Keithan
Disclaimers: Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.
Rating: PG
Series: 4/7
Warnings: None other than implied love between same gender. mild/implied slash ; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas
Summary: Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.
Notes: Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.
Kindled Flame
part 4
Perhaps if Estel had greeted Legolas differently, had smiled and embraced the prince upon meeting him as if no time had passed, things would have been different. The changes would have been delayed.
But it was not so. The feeling of something different was already there. The change was inevitable.
Elladan frowned, feeling the uncomfortable tension between Legolas and his youngest brother. He briefly wondered about it, for Legolas and Estel were inseparable before. Estel looked up to the Mirkwood prince like a hero, a role model of sorts; and Legolas was only too glad to act as a teacher and friend to him.
"Come now, Legolas, redeem me!" Elladan said smiling, hoping to ease the building tension that Legolas and Estel's gaze at each other was causing.
He effectively brought both pair of eyes to him. "You caused me my defeat, the least you could do is defeat him for my honor!" He said smiling, handing Legolas his sword.
Legolas hesitated. He was no fool. He felt the strain between him and Estel and he was not sure if he would wish any encounter with the mortal as of the moment. At least not until such apprehension and anxiety between them was gone. It was as if Estel was wary of him. The human's gaze seemed searching and calculating, as if he was measuring Legolas up.
"What now? The teacher now afraid of the pupil? Oh Valar!" Elrohir said, looking so stricken; only the gleam in his eyes gave him away.
The Sindarin prince smiled. Nothing is wrong, he said to himself. Everything is as it should be. It would do no harm to cross blades with him in a friendly spar.
"I can see he has the mastery of the blade though I would dare say there is always room for improvement," he said in a tone that much resembled someone with greater experience, which was who he was.
He ignored the sword being handed to him by Elladan. Instead, he reached up to his quiver that was still strapped at his back and unsheathed his two white knives, twirling them in the process. He smiled, clearly accepting the challenge.
"I wouldn't need that," he said, nodding towards the sword.
Estel had been silent the whole time, yet he looked in awe at the skillful way Legolas drew out his blades with such precision and ease, which he gathered had come from centuries of use. But then, he just stared at the twin blades, no less deadly he knew, but still, they were shorter than a sword. Even though he admired the way Legolas handled the long knives, he doubted its effectiveness in battle against a sword. Every time his brothers used their own long knives or daggers against enemies, he was locked in his own battle to notice. Besides, orcs are pretty easy to kill. "Knives?" he asked skeptically to no one.
"I would wager you haven't used any of the like on him?" Legolas asked the twins, hearing the doubt in the adan's voice.
The two looked at each other. "Well, no, not really," Elrohir said. "We haven't thought about it."
"Since we are practicing his swordsmanship, our practices are all swords that he may see the movements that could be done with it other than his own," Elladan continued.
Estel was beginning to mind the way the others were conversing as if he weren't there at all and was about to voice that out.
"Well then, let's practice his fighting, not only his sword. It is time to take his learning to a higher level," Legolas said, finally looking at Estel. A brow rose in challenge and eyes clearly carrying a dare, a look he so often gave Estel before. He knew the boy wouldn't back out on any challenge. He used it often when the mortal doubted himself in his abilities. It always worked.
In that moment, everything seemed normal again. There were no uneasy tensions between them. Legolas smiled challengingly, whereas Estel, brow also raised, remained skeptical of the seemingly disadvantageous weapon, yet a smile was also in his lips. It was a challenge accepted.
Both Elf and Man almost breathed a sigh of relief.
"Have you no consideration, my sons?"
All four of them looked up to the sound of the voice.
Elrond was standing in the balcony that overlooked the practice fields. Estel's mother, Gilraen,joined him a moment later, clearly looking amused.
The verbal reprimand was softened by the smile on his face. "The Prince Legolas had just come from a long journey from Mirkwood. Would you give him no rest first?"
Before any of Elrond's sons could answer, Legolas bowed, his right hand immediately transferring the knife it held to the other before coming to rest on his chest. "Lady Gilraen," he bowed first to Gilraen before turning and bowing to Elrond and moving his hand outwards in a sweeping motion. "Lord Elrond."
"Well met, son of Thranduil," Elrond said, greeting him in the same way. "Please, mind not the discourtesy of my sons and find rest here in Imladris from your long journey yonder in the east." Again, his tone was soft and his face was smiling.
"But ada, he was in this too," Elrohir said. He received a not so soft nudge in his ribs from Legolas.
"Thank you, lord, I will." Legolas said smiling, ignoring Elrohir's complains.
Elrond nodded, inwardly smiling at the young Elves. Then looking pointedly at his sons, he said, "I will meet you again tonight, Legolas, hopefully, after you have rested. Then perhaps you could give me tidings from your realm."
"Of course, my lord. My father sends you his greetings," Legolas answered.
"I am glad he is well then," the Elf lord said. "I hope to see you tonight, Legolas. We shall speak more later," Elrond said, nodding once. He gave each of his sons a pointed look before turning back inside.
Legolas then met the eyes of Gilraen, who lingered for a while. Her eyes were trained on him, seemingly searching, reading and…
actually seeing.
Her eyes pierced him. Wisdom and experience shone through their depths and he could not help but feel young even though he was the one with hundreds of years behind him. Her look was not unkind – it was a look of understanding even – yet he felt as though she could read his mind and heart. Her gaze briefly flickered to his right. He turned halfway to see what it was, or who it was that she looked at, but she turned back to him again and smiled softly, nodding to him respectfully before following Elrond inside.
Legolas, frowning in confusion, stared at her retreating back, stared up at the balcony even after she had gone inside. He looked back over his right shoulder and saw Estel looking up to where his mother was standing.
Estel dropped his eyes to meet his gaze. But Legolas already turned back to the balcony once more, mind deep in thought.
So it was that at that afternoon, the Prince of Mirkwood arrived in Imladris and in doing so, he was faced with the clear difference of his friendship with Estel.
It was Elladan who first noticed the unease in which the two close friends had greeted each other after more than a year of separation. Yet when it dissipated just as quickly as it had come, he pushed it in the back of his mind.
Yet the two now looked at each other through different eyes. And for the first time, they felt it, felt the difference in their friendship. They knew not what difference it was. They knew only the tension and uneasiness that lay between them.
It was happening. It was too late. Too late to step back and avoid it.
But as others said, ignorance was bliss – and denial, the easiest escape. They might not know it, but they opted for the two, ignorance and denial.
Trying to return back to the routine that had been set, when Estel was young and Legolas was still just a mentor, was the first steps they took to deny and avoid what could possibly happen.
Estel hesitated, his hand poised to knock. He had done this a hundred times before, what difference was there that he couldn't do it now?
You're being a fool , he thought. Just knock. The way you always do. Throwing caution and doubts aside, he finally did.
"A moment." Legolas' voice said from the inside. After a while, Estel was granted entrance.
Legolas looked up and saw the young adan. He just stood there momentarily, surprised to find the human so early in his room. He had arrived in Imladris two days ago and although it had been a practice of the younger Estel to just knock and enter (sometimes even forgetting the knocking part) early in the morning, he didn't know the almost eighteen-year-old young adult had picked up the habit since he had already spent two mornings undisturbed.
"Good morning..." Estel hesitated, especially now the Mirkwood prince stood there as if he wasn't expecting him. More than a year ago, Legolas always knew he would come. "...Legolas," he finished.
Legolas blinked, then after regaining enough sense, he smiled. "Come Estel, have a seat," he said, indicating a large, and obviously cozy, chair. "I'm guessing you have come to pick me up?" he asked, smiling.
Estel relaxed a bit. "I guess you could say that," he said, shrugging.
The Elf laughed lightly. "What do you have in mind this morning? Perhaps you could tell me what you have been up to for the past year? We have not much opportunity to talk yet. Wait a while," he said, turning to the pack he left open. "I just have to arrange some things then we'll go."
Estel smiled, relieved. There was still some uneasiness between them but it was slowly lessening. The past two days had been a bit uncomfortable. He didn't know what was expected of him. Was he expected to act like the child student that he was? Did Legolas even see him beyond that, as a friend and not just a student?
Their friendship now was only a little more than uneasy silences and tensions, awkward glances and uncomfortable company. He was beginning to think that their friendship didn't even exist in the first place and what they had before was dwindling away into mere acquaintance, now that he had grown. It took a lot of debating on his part before he finally decided to knock on the prince's door this morning.
He did not regret it, he thought, as routine brought back some semblance of normalcy.
"I could do that," Estel answered, remembering their conversation. "The twins have placed me in danger so many times it nearly made father's hair white," he said chuckling, earning a soft laugh and a whispered I can just imagine from Legolas in response. "I was thinking of an early morning ride, as what we usually do," he then said, another unconscious attempt to go back to their relationship before. For what they had before was something they both knew and treasured well, at least, for his part, he did.
Legolas, who had his back to Estel, noticed this, but gave no comment, at least he agreed with Estel in that, even though the human did it unconsciously. To tread known grounds was much safer than to venture the unknown path that their relationship now was heading into, not unless they stir it back to what it was.
And that was what both were doing.
He felt the change between them, even feared that he returned too late and Estel had already grown up much to remember whatever friendship they had. The young adan had seemingly avoided him. They couldn't even look at each other in the eye without having one look away. He had thought that he had returned for naught, but seeing the young mortal on his door earlier had cleared his doubts.
Estel was at least making the effort. The adan wanted to have their friendship back and that was enough for him to know that his return had not been in vain.
"But since the twins find their beds a better company, they wouldn't be joining us," Estel continued, bringing Legolas out of his thoughts. "Or we could just carry on with what we left unfinished when you arrived and have an early sparring match as an exercise. So what would you have us do?"
Legolas had finished arranging his pack in one corner. He straightened up and looked at the young adan, thinking. "I rather fancy the sparring match. I could use the practice. What say you?"
Estel smiled. "Excellent."
He looked at Legolas as the Elf seemingly debated if he would bring his own weapons, which he finally decided to do. He waited as the prince retrieved his two white knives from the quiver, which was placed, together with the Mirkwood bow, neatly on a table.
"Come. Show me what you have learned in my absence," Legolas said and there was no mistaking the challenge in his words.
Estel shook his head, smiling. "Elves," he muttered. They then headed to the practice field.
Moments later, they were standing some feet away from each other in the same field they were in the other day. Estel was with his sword facing Legolas who was with his long knives, both poised and ready for the match to begin.
"Let's see what you've learned," Legolas said smiling slightly, internally preparing his mind and body for the fight. He knew, from what he had seen between Elladan and Estel, that this was not going to be a mere sword-play lesson.
"I learned much from you," Estel replied, raising his sword in front of him in a signal that he was ready.
And then it began.
In a blur of movements, Legolas immediately took on the offensive as he had most often done before in practicing Estel in the art of the sword.
Estel effectively blocked each blow. But as the fight continued, the human slowly realized that he clearly was the inferior fighter. At that moment, he experienced fighting Legolas as he had never experienced before. He knew, without a doubt, that the Elf prince was even holding back.
He constantly found himself backing away, nearly unable to keep up with the other's attack. Sweat started to form in his brow; his hands threatened to shake with the pressure; and his footwork began to fail with little missteps. The twin blades seemed to blend into one and divide into many at the same time, creating a much wider range of attack on him. He had no doubt that, if placed on the defensive, the Sindarin Elf would have defenses that would be near impossible to penetrate. The sound of metal against metal rang throughout the practice area, and yet, the only thing he heard was his own breathing and the pounding of his heart.
They locked eyes for the first time and Estel saw again the usual calmness and impassivity of his mentor in Legolas' eyes. Letting out a cry, he anchored his ankle and twisted his sword to deflect one of the knives so that he might be able to move forward instead of back. Desire swept through him to break that calm impassivity in the Elf's facade. He held his sword tightly, and more securely, and determination caused the crease in his forehead. He then took the offensive, something that he seldom did before.
And the first break in the routine that they had nearly established again that morning was done. Unknowingly, Estel, himself, had broken out from the regularities between them and had ventured into new grounds.
And this did not help in their efforts to return to normalcy.
It did not help at all.
Legolas didn't let the surprise at the sudden shift affect him and he easily slipped into the defensive. He noticed the sudden change in the mortal, and found it disturbing at first. He was used to the young boy, who was learning the sword and had talent with it, not someone who was near to mastering it. To be faced with a young adult, which was undoubtedly more skilled and was physically more powerful than the boy he knew, was something Legolas didn't expect.
There was a loud clank of metal then silence.
Both combatants froze momentarily.
Estel was starting to breathe more heavily. His sword, gripped tightly in both hands, was in a diagonal in front of him, connected to Legolas' knives on either sides of the blade, one knife higher than the other.
Legolas still wasn't feeling the effects of the physical exertion as Estel did, but he felt his blood running faster as the rush of the fight spurred him on.
They looked at each other for a moment through their interlocked blades, a brief respite from the fight.
And almost at the same time, both realized that they looked at each other then as equals. There were no lines of superiority drawn between them, no title of student and instructor, pupil or mentor.
Estel's face smoothened in, what could be seen as, wonder and disbelief at such realization.
Legolas brows furrowed – the only indication that he found the thought rather disconcerting – a second before their blades danced again.
He no longer is a child, Legolas thought as he felt the need to be in control. A year ago, he always found himself in perfect control. With Estel being young, he had not the cause to lose control of things and situations.
Yet now as equals...
Estel let out a surprised gasp as the Elf almost disappeared in front of him. He regained his senses in time to raise his sword to his side where Legolas had apparently moved to, so fast that he was unable to register such movement when it happened.
And thus Legolas took on the offensive once again, if only to feel in control, of himself and of the situation.
Yet he was far from being in control.
Things would go as fate would have it and it would go no other way.
The youngest son of Lord Elrond, his foster-son, had come to the conclusion that the prince was using his first choice of weapon in close range fighting. If he thought before that Legolas was good with a sword, he was unbeatable with his twin knives. He was able to confirm such fact when he found himself backed up against a tree, in the edge of the practice field.
Estel gulped slowly as he found himself cornered, pinned by Legolas against the rough bark of a tree, the two blades of the Sindarin Elf crossed dangerously close to his neck and his sword just way out of reach.
He was breathing heavily at this time as the fight had been longer than what he was used to in practicing and had been more demanding of his efforts, physically and mentally. His heart was pounding heavily on his ears; he was sure the Elf could almost hear it.
Legolas seemed unaffected except for the deep breathing he was doing and his slightly flushed face that was evident on his pale complexion. His eyes looked through Estel without seeing him. They still carried the distant look, a hint of a dangerous gleam that it usually had when fighting.
Estel lifted his eyes from the blades crossed at his neck to its wielder, whose face were mere inches from his own, their breaths mingling in the cold morning air.
Legolas blinked, as if just coming out of a trance and met Estel's gaze. He didn't know if it was the rush of energy or just the intensity of the human's eyes, or just because he was standing close that all he could see was the sea-gray orbs, but it was as if the world faded and anything beyond Estel's eyes blurred and became a swirl of colors.
And that moment robbed them of words. It was one of those rare times when the eyes, indeed, become windows, and when they look at another, they simply understood; they just simply knew.
Legolas and Estel, however, knew and yet did not. They understood, and yet were confused.
No longer a boy.
No longer an instructor.
Not a pupil.
Not the mentor.
What were they now?
If not the pupil, then who?
If not a mentor, then what?
"Legolas…" The name came out of Estel's lips unconsciously and it seemed to them a distant whisper in their minds.
They stayed unmoving, their minds frozen in time just as their bodies were.
In their locked gazes, both realized that they had indeed changed. They could not go back to their mentor-pupil relationship or, rather, they had already passed that stage.
In some distant part of his mind, Legolas was reminded of what Erestor had said. Mortal years fly by so quickly, he thought, almost sadly.
The sounds of nature reached his ears and he blinked, breaking eye contact. It was as if the wind blew softly as a reminder that words needed to be spoken, and their confusion needed to be understood. Then, as if just realizing their proximity, Legolas pulled back, almost too hastily.
And the tension between them increased tenfold.
"Estel. I…" Legolas didn't even know what he was about to say. He searched Estel's eyes and found not the child looking at him in curious fascination. Instead, he found a young man, looking at him confusedly, seemingly… hurt?
He looked away, not understanding why everything wasn't as simple as they should be. "I…"
Before he even knew it, Estel raised his fingers to Legolas' lips. "Why do you look at me with such sadness in your eyes?" he asked softly.
Legolas looked back up. He didn't know if it was better for them to let words be spoken; it seemed much easier if they were to remain unuttered. He reached up and held Estel's hand to gently move them away from his lips. "Why do you look at me with such confusion?" he asked in turn, looking straight into Estel's eyes and seeing the momentary surprise in them.
Estel looked at his hand which Legolas carefully held. He then tilted his head to the side, looking back up to the Elf's eyes. After a moment, he said, "You tell me," then paused for a while before saying, "Because it probably is the same confusion that I see in your own eyes, Legolas."
At this, and the sound of his name, Legolas quickly released Estel's hand, his face slipping into a mask of distant calm, and turned away. He was determined to walk back to the house, but he found himself held in place.
How do they pick up the threads of an old life?
Legolas turned his head to the human. He dropped his eyes unconsciously to the hand holding his wrist – briefly contemplating the soft contrast of his too pale complexion to Estel's slightly darker one – before bringing them up again to meet Estel's gaze.
How do they go on...
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Estel said.
Legolas smiled.
Estel frowned, recognizing the mask for what it was.
"By the way, that was a good match, mellon nin ," Legolas said. "You have greatly improved."
...when in their hearts, they begin to understand...
And Estel instantly knew that Legolas was trying to go back to the routine, to the normalcy that they had set years ago when they first met and he was just around fourteen years.
But right now, he wasn't sure if he was willing to go back anymore. He looked down at his hand holding the prince's wrist, then looked up again.
"Why are you doing this?" Estel asked, tightening his hold a bit.
Legolas frowned before raising an eyebrow. "Doing what exactly?"
"I…" Estel started, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't even understand what he asked. He released his hold on the Elf and shook his head sadly. "Nothing. Forget it."
Estel lost a verbal exchange when it hadn't even started yet. Legolas was aware of this, and yet, he couldn't smile on his victory. And even though he was free from Estel's hold, he couldn't turn away, not just yet.
He looked at Estel, who was looking down, thoughts running through his mind with no definite direction.
Next thing he knew, he had his fingers under Estel's chin, a gesture that was strangely intimate, and he guided the mortal's face up to look at him, studying his stormy gray eyes.
"Never doubt my friendship, Estel," he said after a moment, letting his hand fall to his side.
Looking back, Legolas thought that if any were listening in on their conversation, they would have been confused at the jumble of words and phrases that he and the human had exchanged. But somehow, strangely enough, for him, it made perfect sense.
Estel sighed, before nodding. "Nor mine as well," he just replied.
…that there is no going back.
What was between them was no longer the love of a mentor and a pupil.
They both had tried to slip back to their routine, both tried desperately to hold on to what had been, still unprepared and afraid to face the inevitable change.
But how do the pick up the threads of an old life? How do they go on, when in their hearts, they begin to understand… that there is no going back?
t b c . . .
Lines from the 3rd movie: (used above with different pronouns) I do not claim any credit for them.
How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand, that there is no going back?
-Frodo
Nice to have the longer chapters back, I hope? Feedbacks would be much welcome! Thank you for those who have read and those who have reviewed. I'm sorry for making you wait. But do not worry, because I intend to finish this. I would not have started posting this unless I know I will finish it.
Thank you again!