2941 of the Third Age

"Today is a special day, Estel," said Elladan. His look was knowing as he stood with hands on hips, gazing keenly at the boy. Gilraen took particular notice of this wily mood, rare as it was. Her son, however, looked up at the Elf-man unimpressed.

"I know that," he said.

Elladan replied sagely, "Ah, but it is especially special. Can you guess how so?"

"Well… it is my birthday." Seeing that there must be more to it, Estel thought for a moment, touching his finger to his temple even though his mother had assured him it does not truly help one think. "Elladan, what then? The day will be over before I figure it out."

"Nay, for you are clever with riddles. But I will not leave you wondering." He turned up his hands, fingers spread. "You are now ten years of age, and not until ninety years have passed shall you earn a third digit."

Gilraen watched as her son stood unflinching, then closed his eyes, frowned, and sighed with a shake of his head. "That is a lame jest." Her quick reprimand was lost amid Elladan's mock-outburst.

"What! That is as my own grandfather told me, and similarly when I reached my first century--"

"And it was lame even then," said Elrohir, strolling into the room. Elladan dismissed them both with a wave before turning to a window, though from her vantage Gilraen saw that he grinned.

Elrohir went on, "Father is coming now to see us off, and our horses wait prepared in the square. Estel, I've brought your gloves, but here, let me show you a nice trick. We shall set them on the furnace a moment ere we go, and your fingers will thank you for the warmth -- never forget them there, though, or no one will thank you for the smell!"

Gilraen watched their continuing exchange with gladness and sorrow, knowing her son would be as safe as he would be content. Estel had pleaded for such an excursion over many years, ever bade to settle for day-long rides. Now at last she trusted his skills at riding and woodcraft enough to permit a longer trip, and one on which she would not go along. His birthday gift from her, therefore, was twelve days in the wilderness, with Elladan and Elrohir as guides.

"Well, just look at you." Elrohir had knelt before Estel, looking the boy over as he bent backwards. "Every year your head is at a different place! I should ask father if you are tall for your age."

"And father would know," Estel supplied. "He measured me just a while ago -- and all over! I thought it was for clothing, and shoes, and a hat too, but I received none of those things since."

Gilraen remembered that day. She had been hard-pressed to keep from laughing at Elrond's ingenuity in concealing his true purpose from Estel, who might have guessed what he was being fitted for, had his foster father not documented the length of each foot as well as the reach of both arms, and the circumference of his head along with the width of his shoulders.

Her son looked now at Elrohir as he had looked at her after Elrond departed with his --partially irrelevant-- dimensions. "Was that not strange of him?"

"Hmm, yes, I cannot make any sense of that," Elrohir lied, poorly. "Brother, have you any insight to share?"

Elladan would not spoil the game, but played differently. "I think you are all mad."

"Well there, you see? Maybe that explains it."

Of a sudden, Estel was all his age, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Oh, oh, oh, a plot! Tell me now, Elrohir, I must know, what is the long secret?"

"It is not for me to tell!" he laughed. "But I think you will know soon enough, perhaps even before we leave."

Gilraen unclenched her hands as the chair's armrests began to creak. There was nothing, it seemed, anyone had to say that did not incite an urge to forbid this plan, and keep her child at home. She entertained thoughts of meddling, knowing she would dismiss them in the end. If I begged Glorfindel to follow them, he would. Or Telmoth, though she would balk at such short notice. But surely Ronduir will watch over them, if his post is nearby.

When Elrond came, they left together for the courtyard. Gilraen noticed her son inching towards her, the brave face he donned unwavering. Soon his cold hand slipped into hers. "Will you be lonely?" he blurted once the horses came into view, packed as they were for the journey ahead.

"Of course!" She bent to kiss his head. "So do not stay gone overlong."

"Nana…" he stopped short as Elladan came up, presenting his warmed gloves. "Oh, I forgot after all. Elrohir--"

"Forgets his own more often than not. How else would he know they smell foul when cooked? Now go see Master Elrond; he asks for you." He patted the boy's back, and bowed towards Gilraen. "We go with his blessings, lady," he said, and she understood the unsaid --an assurance of safe return-- but found that she still had tears to hold back.

A joyous cry shattered the peace, followed by elvish laughter from unseen sources. Gilraen looked towards her son, just completing a happy dance before daring to handle the gift Elrond had revealed. It was a bow, far more opulent than what had been described to her while it was still an idea presented with seeming innocence. She resolved to have more care the next time a Half-elf seemed innocent.

Now Elrond knelt, and Estel received the bow gingerly before resting back against his foster father's support. With silent wonder, he examined its shape and the runes writ upon it. In a moment he shook himself as if to wake from a dream, then smiled that he did not. "I will cherish it," he breathed.

"No." Elrond turned the boy around, closing the bow in his hands. "You will use it. Thus, it should become scuffed and worn, and it may well break or be replaced. But--"

"The gift, father," Estel interrupted, and walked into his foster father's embrace. "I will cherish the gift, not the thing -- I know the difference. Thank you."

Gilraen lost her fight for composure; the scene before her and the imminent parting brought forth too many memories that she wished not to revisit. For Estel's sake, she turned away to conceal a sob by embracing whoever stood closest, as if in farewell. Then for her own sake, she turned again and embraced whoever stood next closest, to conceal her mirth after that queer moment in Elladan's awkward embrace. She felt Elrohir shaking with silent laughter of his own, which helped her efforts to sober none at all.

With such a weapon at hand, Estel was all confidence. Accepting no help to get saddled --nor suffering to be parted from the bow-- he reined his horse around while the twins mounted their steeds. "I shall return an accomplished bowman, a master hunter!" he said to Elrond, who generously conceded that by minding Elladan and Elrohir's tuition, it was possible. Gilraen wondered how long it would take before he noticed his lack of arrows, and how long after that until the brethren ceased teasing and revealed the quiver which was to be their gift to him.

After one last cry of farewell, she watched her only son ride out of sight beside twain warriors, carefully repressing the thought, What have I done? Stealing a glance at Elrond revealed him to be dry-eyed, without evident concern or intentions to move. Uncounted moments later, she returned to the house alone.

By midday, their paths had crossed too closely, and too many times, to ignore. Laughing in recognition that they had both been wandering without much purpose, they approached each other, and met in the foyer.

"Well, I forgot your advice, lord, though I now see the wisdom in it," said Gilraen. She knew Elrond had been partially teasing when he suggested that she do nothing for days before Estel departed, to ensure a busy schedule until his return, leaving less time to worry. Yet in her nervousness pending his leavetaking, she had been restlessly productive, leaving little to do now but wait.

Elrond replied, "Would that I had taken my own advice." He unfolded his hands, seeming to shrug at seeing their emptiness. "It is easier looking after another, I think, than seeing to oneself."

She agreed. "We ought to have put conditions upon each other, then, that we remain idle until his departure... or else sat with our hands tied together. For my part, though, I am not solely to blame! I had thought to help Estel with his packing, but he was so determined to do things himself, he would not even let me prepare traveling meals."

He nodded, saying, "Ah, and I had made a list, on it among other chores to reorder my library. But Estel happened across those plans, and thinking to spare me the trouble, toiled in my place secretly: 'since I helped you mess it', as he said."

Gilraen forced her smile away. "When he returns, we must sit him down and explain all he has put us through."

"Truly."

A noise outside attracted her attention for a moment, and the angled shadows reminded her of the hour. On a normal day, Elrond would be unseen from now until suppertime. She began to excuse herself, if he had business elsewhere, but he said, "I had thought to sit a while ere the next meal is served. There is cider warming over the fire in my study, and I would welcome your company, if you would be interrupted."

"From walking in circles? Yes, I would be interrupted, and grateful for it." He held out a hand that she accepted --not without chuckling at his habitual formality-- and they began the walk to his quarters. Twice in getting there, he opened a door before her, and she cited those favors as reason why she ought to serve their drinks. That failing, she said, "Never mind your elvish scruples. It's my turn."

"If you insist." Sitting down, he said, "Speaking of favors, your son was diligent in this, was he not?" He gestured about the room, the bookshelves on each wall tidy and clean.

Gilraen sat. "Yes, and I am amazed if he managed such a feat without being caught at work. In a single evening, it happened?"

"He had some help, I gather. Elrohir whispered in my ear, that if I needed to busy my hands, to consider his own room instead."

"Well, having seen his room, I cannot blame him for his guile."

Elrond laughed. "Is it in such a desperate state? I suppose since--" he faltered, and drank before continuing. "They leave in haste, sometimes."

"Yes, I..." she sought for something more insightful, ending instead with, "I noticed." For a while, they sat in silence. "Is this the usual way of it, then, that your sons are away for the most part of each year?"

"It is, though as the habits of the enemy change, accordingly my sons must adjust their schedule."

"Of course. The Rangers do likewise. I suppose that is not what I meant to ask." She took a drink, wanting to use that time to consider her next question; yet all she could ponder was that Elrond looked as though he waited with the answer already. "In their absence, the absence of our children, what is a parent to do?"

"I know not, for mine have never all been gone at once."

For several minutes they just stared. Finally, Gilraen laughed, looking away in abashment to feel her cheeks flush. "You consider me a child, lord?"

"I would be remiss not to regard the youngest resident of this household as my charge." She looked back to see that his expression had fallen sober, and his gaze reached to some faraway point. He continued quietly, "In truth, I do not know."

Again, they sat silently. Gilraen was surprised when the supper bells rang soon after, and that she could not recall what thoughts she had been so lost in. Lost in thoughtlessness, then. My cousins would tease me if they knew I sat around like an Elf now, thinking without words.

She looked at Elrond, turning an empty cup in his hands. If he had heard the bells, she could not tell, but he seemed to notice her gaze. "Gilraen, it may still be early, but when Estel returns, I should like to have him begin additional combat training." Meeting his eyes, she thought he anticipated her disapproval. "With weapons."

The extent of his training thus far seemed little more than rigorous play, or basic study, and all things to the delight of young boys: horseback riding, woodcraft, even wrestling. As such, it had always been easy, and preferable, for Gilraen to ignore the truth of it: that he was indeed training, and not for any game.

"I see. Well, yes, of course. He is at the appropriate age, after all. One of his stature and maturity might have been started with the blade already, in the Angle, and especially being... who he is."

Elrond sat forward, taking her hand in his. "Such is one benefit," he said, "of living here, that your son dwells not in danger or fear, and need not hasten towards manhood."

"I know. Yet he has grown too fast as it is, if you ask me."

"They always do, I assure you." He stood, smiling again. "Now come! The sweeter his homecoming will be, after you have sat to sup without him, and found the company lacking."

She did not voice her thought: that the company was never lacking at Elrond's table.