The dark haired elf leaned against his balcony railing. A soft breeze came with the setting of the sun, and it ruffled through his raven strands. Grey eyes surveyed the valley with the pretense of calm.
He should have been quite serene. Imladris was beautiful in the evening. The river Bruinen could be heard from where he stood, flowing peacefully along. Even he himself looked as though he was thouroughly enjoying the brilliant sunset.
"Do you think they will appear if you stare at the trees hard enough, mellon nin?"
Elrond did not even blink. He had heard the elf approach. And he knew the voice well. "Yes."
With a grin, Elrond's golden haired seneschal leaned against the balcony railing beside his lord. Glorfindel had told Elrond more than once that he was simply borrowing trouble. So the twins and Estel were late in returning. They were within the borders of Rivendell! Nothing too dreadful could have befallen them between the time they had set out that morning and now.
Elrond had only gazed at the blond elf in amazement, as if wondering how stupid a member of the Eldar could truly be.
"They will have gotten into some kind of trouble," the dark haired elf muttered. "I do not know what it will be, but trust me. When they come back, at least one of them will be injured. Wether it be wargs, or orcs, or…" Elrond broke off, realizing that Glorfindel was still grinning widely. "You are laughing at me."
The elf's blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Of course not, hir nin."
Before Elrond could respond to his seneschal's blatant falsehood, a cry from the courtyard below reached his keen ears. Immediately, the elf lord turned his gray eyes downwards.
Elladan stood underneath his father's balcony, his fair face grim. Elrond felt a pang of dread. What had happened to make his eldest look so stern? "Ion nin! Man na den?"
The young elf lord only shook his head. "You need to come down, Ada. I think there is something you should see."
Elrond turned from the railing and quickly strode through his chamber and out into the hall, Glorfindel at his side. The golden haired balrog slayer had lost some of his merriment in response to hearing Elladan's hard tone of voice. The Lord of Imladris could not help shooting a glance at his friend that very clearly said, 'I told you so.' "They will be hurt," he muttered under his breath, worry making him angry. "at least one of them will be. Most likely Estel. Glorfindel, could you tell the healers on duty…?"
"Avo osto," the blond elf clapped a hand on Elrond's shoulder reassuringly. "I will make sure they are prepared for whatever new mischief has befallen your sons." Though his tone was light, both knew he spoke in complete sincerity.
Elrond smiled tightly. "Hannon le, mellon nin." Moving swiftly, he parted company with Glorfindel and made his way to the stairs. The whisper of his robes as he descended the smooth stone steps was the only sound he could hear. It pounded against his eardrums as if telling him to go faster. Therefore, by the time the elf lord reached the door, he was nearly running.
Elrond wrenched the portal open…
Only to be confronted with a very odd scene.
Elladan and Elrohir stood stiffly to one side of the courtyard, their faces radiating cool dissaproval. Their gray eyes were fastened on a group of five men. Humans. Three were standing, looking rather uncomfortable in their surroundings. One was seated with his back against a nearby barrel, and the fifth was bent over him. Where was Estel?
The fifth man straightened up, and Elrond breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised his son. The boy did not seem to be sporting any major injuries, but the elf lord's keen eyes did not fail to detect the bandage wound around Estel's hand. Having ascertained that his youngest was not in any immediate danger, Elrond directed his attention to the group of humans that had accompanied his sons.
Four, there were. All seemed to be of middle age, or younger. Their clothing was worn, and simple, like any villager in the many small hamlets that lay within a day's march of Rivendell. Dark faces and arms bespoke of a life spent mostly outdoors. Elrond's gray eyes passed over the three who were standing quickly, then came to rest on the man who was seated. For some reason, a flicker of unease stirred within his mind. There was something about this human that he did not like.
Perhaps it was the shrewd look in the man's dark eyes…or the way said eyes darted around the courtyard. Not frantically, oh no. Those eyes were drinking in the details and memorizing everything they touched. Perhaps it was the way that shrewd gaze rested on Estel…
As if warned by some unknown instinct, the man suddenly seemed to realize he was being watched. The calculating look vanished so quickly that Elrond wondered for a moment if he had imagined it. In its place, an expression of brave stoicism in the face of pain held sway.
The dark haired elf was not fooled. He sent a sharp look at the twins. Surely they realized that something was wrong with this man? Why had they brought him to Imladris?
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Aragorn noticed the way his father's gaze swept over the humans, lingering on Halith. He also saw the stern look of dissaproval Elrond sent towards Elladan and Elrohir.
For some reason, the young ranger felt his ire bubble once more. Did even his own father think him too infantile to possibly have any responsibility with the arrival of these men?
"Ada," he said quietly, but there was a bite hidden beneath his soft tone. "We came upon these men as we were traveling home. They were being attacked by a much larger group, and we came to their assistance. Unfortunately, Halith had already been wounded." Aragorn motioned briefly to the dark haired man. "I did not have what I needed to treat him, so I thought it best we bring him back here."
The ranger saw his father frown briefly, but the elf quickly turned his scowl into an expression of cool dignity. "Of course." Again, the gray eyes flickered over Halith and his companions. "Elladan, Elrohir, please escort this man to the healing wing, and take the rest of our guests to the spare chambers."
Aragorn did not miss the dark haired elf lord's stress on the word, 'guests.' His face flushed slightly as he shot an apologetic glance at Halith. The older man merely smiled ruefully, as if used to receiving such chilly welcomes. With cheeks still burning, Aragorn helped Halith's companions raise him to his feet.
"Don't fret on our behalf," the injured man murmured into the ranger's ear. "I can't expect everyone to stretch out a lot of hospitality when they've only just caught sight of us. After all, we look a little disreputable."
"Do not be foolish," Aragorn snorted. "You look nothing of the sort."
"Ah, but not everyone has your discerning eye," Halith grinned and winked knowingly as his friends took his weight on their own shoulders. Elladan stepped forward, his fair face exceedingly grim as he led the small party into the halls of the last homely house. Elrohir fell in behind the humans, his own features mirroring his twin's to such a great degree that for a moment, Aragorn could not tell the two apart.
"Estel."
At the sound of the gentle voice, the young man sighed, and tore his silver eyes away from the departing group. "Yes, Ada?"
Elrond's arms were folded tightly across his chest, his dark brows drawn forward so far they formed a V. "Firstly, what did you do to your hand?"
Aragorn winced. He should have known there was no way his father would fail to see the crude dressing wrapped around his palm. Half of his mind debated telling the elf that he had been wounded in combat…but the other half set up such a raucous laugh he decided against it. He had never been able to hide anything from his father, and besides, one of the twins would most likely make sure that Elrond knew the entire tale and it would be wise to ensure that the two tales matched.
"I simply followed Elladan and Elrohir down from a tree," he said innocently. "I…slipped…a little and scraped some of the skin off…" Before he could finish, the dark haired elf had caught his right wrist and held it firmly as his long delicate fingers deftly unwound the dressing.
The bandage fell to the courtyard floor, revealing Aragorn's palm.
Elrond's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Some? You call this some!"
Aragorn had to admit, his father had a valid point. He had tried to downplay his injury as much as possible, but in truth, he had taken nearly all of the skin off his hand, and it looked fairly ugly.
The gray eyes narrowed, fixing his son with a piercing look. "Exactly how did you 'slip'?"
The young ranger sighed dismally. He knew when he was beaten. Without trying to sugar coat the story any more than he had already done, he related everything.
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Elrond felt his eyes grow wide as his youngest recounted his tale. How could such an intelligent young man do something so abysmally foolish! "Estel…you should know better. I know you wish to do everything your elder brothers do, but you must understand that sometimes it is just not possible!" the dark haired elf lord nearly groaned as he looked at his son. The boy's head hung low, allowing his dark hair to fall forward and hide the scowl in his silver eyes.
Elrond knew the scowl was there. He had to bite back his own irritation. Why could Estel not listen to reason? It was like trying to talk sense into a dwarf! The young human was so hardheadedly sure that he knew what was best he would not listen to anyone else. The elf sighed softly, gazing at the top of his child's head. Sometimes he wished that Estel would grow up and gain some of the wisdom that seemed so often lacking. But then, he also caught himself frequently enjoying the boy's youthful exuberance, something he knew would fade in time. 'But not yet.' He reminded himself. For now, Estel was still very young and easily kept from harm. His eyes caught another glimpse of the ranger's wounded hand. Well, most harm anyway. He smiled slightly as the thought crossed his mind. "Go inside, Estel. I will be along to tend to that," he motioned towards Estel's wounded palm, "in just a moment."
The small, mildly indulgent smile on Elrond's face had not gone unnoticed . "Do not trouble yourself, Ada." Though the young ranger's words were polite, his tone was clipped. "I can tend to it myself." Without another look at his father, Estel turned on his heel and nearly fled into the last homely house.
Elrond could only look after him, his gray eyes concerned.
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Elladan drew in a deep breath as he stared at the solid wood door before him. It was very thick. Incredibly thick. So thick that there was no way his knock could be heard by the room's occupant.
If he knocked, that was.
"I may be mistaken," Elrohir remarked dryly from behind his twin, "but I was under the impression that one had to turn the handle in order to enter the room."
"Quiet," Elladan growled back.
"However," Elrohir ignored his brother with practised ease, "if you are trying to shift it with the powers of your mind, do not let me stop you. I will, however, warn you that your mental facilities are somewhat limited…" the younger elf swiftly dodge the blow his brother sent in his direction.
Scowling at his twin, Elladan seized the brass handle. He could not turn it. For the love of the Valar, he did not want to be here. Anything was better than enduring Estel's wounded looks and his speeches on how no one took him seriously enough. The dark haired elf had heard all of them before. And what could he say? 'Perhaps if you acted like an adult we would treat you as one' just did not seem all that comforting.
No, when he realized that Estel had not come down to dinner, he did not want to track down the young man.
But the human was his brother, and something was obviously bothering the ranger.
With a deep, long suffering sigh, Elladan turned the knob and swung the heavy door open.
The room was very dim. Evening had fallen long ago, and the stars shone through Estel's open window. A single lamp burned fitfully on the bedside table. Its poor glow was barely enough to illuminate the stand on which it rested.
The elves needed no light to see their way. They boldly entered the room, silent as shadows, their dark hair melting into the gloom of the chamber. Their eyes glittered, cat-like, in the semi-darkness.
Estel stood by his window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Silver light painted his unruly locks, turning them the same shade as his gleaming eyes. Though the human's pose was nonchalantly relaxed at first glance, his brothers could see the tension in his spine. In the rigid way he held his head.
A volcano of frustration was building inside the slender frame.
The twins exchanged glances. This was not going to be easy.
"We missed you at dinner, Estel," Elladan said lightly.
"And we wondered what dreadfully important business kept you from stuffing your face to satisfy the black hole you refer to as your stomach," Elrohir teased.
Estel snorted, but did not turn to face them as he replied. "I am surprised you did not send someone to fetch me. Perhaps I had gotten lost without another to hold my hand on the way to the dining hall." The words were filled with an acid that neither Elladan nor Elrohir could remember hearing from their little brother before.
The young ranger turned abruptly, facing the two elves. His face was taut and grim.
"What are you talking about?" Elladan was put on his defense by the biting tone of his younger brother's voice. "Do not be ridiculous."
"Ridiculous!" The word shot from Estel's mouth like an arrow. "let me tell you what is ridiculous my brother. It is ridiculous that though I am twenty-two years of age, I am treated as a small child. It is ridiculous that neither you, nor anyone who dwells here seems to realize that I have grown up!"
"Estel…" Elrohir tried to interrupt, but was cut off.
"Be careful, Estel, do not do that, Estel, leave that to your brothers, Estel, they are older than you." The dark haired man started to pace before his window, arms still tightly folded over his chest. "Ada does not even want me to leave tomorrow as I had originally planned because of this." Estel jerked his bandaged hand up in disgust. "He does not thing I will be able to 'defend myself' should the need arise."
"You are still planning to leave?" Elrohir asked sharply, his concern seeping through.
"Yes, Elrohir." Estel glared at the elf. "Legolas expects me to meet him at the edge of our valley. I will not leave him to worry."
"But, Estel," Elladan said, "Legolas will not arrive for at least three days. Ada is right. Someone could attack you." He looked at Elrohir and saw the same worry etched on his twin's face. "Perhaps we should accompany you…"
The expression on Elrohir's face changed so dramatically, Elladan was taken by surprise. Then the realization of what he had just said hit the older twin like a troll's club. He spun back towards his little brother with an apology on his lips…but the moment he saw Estel's face, he knew that it was too late.
Silver eyes narrowed to slits in the young ranger's face. A nerve twitched in his temple. His lips quivered, as though he longed to hurl a scathing diatribe at his elder brother.
It took several minutes of appaling silence for the human to become calm enough to speak. When he did, his voice was soft and deadly, as poisonous as a rattlesnake's bite.
"Get out."
The twins exchanged pained glances and slowly turned towards the door, but Estel was not done speaking just yet.
"I do not need you to look after me or hold my hand any longer, Elladan. I am a man."
Elrohir merely shook his head and slid through the door. Elladan made as if to follow, but turned at the last moment. His gray eyes met Estel's silver ones and held the gaze steadily. "It takes more than years to make a man, Aragorn son of Arathorn. I hope in time, you will gain the wisdom to see that."
Before Estel could respond, Elladan silently followed after his twin and pulled the door shut behind him.
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Dawn's bright rays sparkled over the valley of Imladris, coating the beauty of the elves with its own radience. Throughout the valley, the elves awoke and rose to go about their business, marveling at the wonder of nature's fine display.
One individual, however, was oblivious to the glory of the new morning.
Aragorn hoisted his pack onto his back with a grunt. He felt slightly guilty for leaving without saying goodbye to his family, but he did not want to face another conversation that turned into an argument. Besides, he would be back in a few days, or a week at the most with Legolas at his side.
A flicker of a smile passed over the ranger's face as he thought of his golden haired friend. Perhaps with the presence of Mirkwood's prince, things would smooth over somewhat. Aragorn almost laughed aloud at that thought. When did anything go smoothly when he and Legolas were together? Pushing dark hair out of his eyes, he ran through a mental list of everything he would need on his short journey.
Satisfied that he was not leaving anything behind, (he would never hear the end of it from the twins if he had) the young man was about to depart, when a soft voice hailed him.
Surprised, Aragorn turned, only to be confronted by Halith, and his companions.
The human looked much better than he had yesterday. He walked toward the young ranger with a spring in his step, and if Aragorn hadn't seen the top of a bandage peeking out of Halith's shirt, he might have supposed that man had never been injured.
"Off again, are you?" Halith asked brightly. "That's lucky. I don't suppose you would be willing to show us the way out of your valley by any chance…? I don't think any of us were paying very close attention yesterday, and it would be a poor way to repay your kindness and hospitality by becoming lost on your land."
"Certainly," Aragorn readily agreed, happy for the company of those who did not look on him as much younger than themselves. "But do you think you are ready to travel?"
"Of course he is," A red haired man chuckled softly. "Nothing can keep Halith down for long."
The other men murmured agreement emphatically.
"Just wait a moment while we get our packs," Halith grinned, and he and those with him quickly departed.
Aragorn let his own pack slide from his shoulder as he sat down to wait. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so boring after all…
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Dark gray eyes peered through glass panes, watching with intense displeasure as Aragorn rose from the ground and started to depart with the group of humans. For a moment, Lord Elrond considered sending someone after his son, but discarded the idea almost immediately.
The dark haired elf sighed and pulled away from the window. He had spoken with the twins last night, and they had related their conversation with their younger brother. He did not want to drive his son away…and it was true that by human standards, Estel was an adult. However, he could not picture the same Estel that had run to him crying at two years of age as a fully grown being.
Elrond rubbed the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. He did not like those humans…and not knowing why bothered him almost more than the fact himself. It disturbed him that his youngest son was traveling with them. Again, he felt the urge to send someone after the ranger.
It would not do.
Elrond firmly sat down at his desk and busied himself with his work, trying to ignore the fatherly instinct that wanted to run after his son and cuddle him, as he had done when Estel was small. The boy would only be in their company for a day, at most. Then the humans would travel on to their village, and Estel would wait for Legolas.
He would see the young man again in a week at the most.
Somehow, a week had never before seemed so long.
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Avo osto-do not fearAda-Father(daddy)
Hannon le, mellon nin- Thank you my friend.
Ion nin! Man na den?-My son! What is it?
Hir nin-My lord.
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