Hello all!

Well, this chapter has a little less angst than the others (sorry to all pain lovers out there), and is actually bordering on fluffy, though I'm not quite sure how good I am at writing fluffy fics, LOL. Anyway, I'm SO sorry I haven't posted all December. I ment to post on Christmas, but things got a little busy. So I'm posting today and hopefully will have another typed up for tomorrow! Crosses fingers

I hope you all had an awesome Christmas/Hanaka/Kwanza/Winter Solstice/ insert politically correct name for "Christmas" here>. LoL. Up here, all the snow melted the day before Christmas, how cheap is that? Arg!

By the way, has anyone seen the extended version of the Return of the King? I can't wait! I hear it's really really good.

So ya I'll stop babbling now. Hope you like this incredibly non-angsty chapter! ;-)

Namesake Chronicles:

There and Back Again

Chapter Five: Twinkle of Hope

Never made it as a wise man,

I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'.

Tired of livin' like a blind man.

I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling,

And this is how you remind me,

Of what I really am.

This is how you remind me,

Of what I really am.

Nickleback

His chains clacked loudly against the cold, stone floor as he was led to his new cell. His head hung in despair. He had a feeling he was not in for an especially fun experience, and he had not made matters any better by being smart with "the master".

Estel had to try hard to suppress a groan of frustration. Every molecule of his being screamed against being owned by anyone, against being mastered by any other being. If there was one thing his ada had succeeded in teaching him, it was to be his own man. He would not serve such a vile and evil person, no matter what they did to him.

What grated against Estel's mind the most, however, was the hunch that he was not the only one to be held thus. Though his eyes were currently swollen closed from the punches the over-zealous orcs threw at him, he could here the slight, swift shuffling of elven boots, a sound that would escape most ears. Alas, not Estel, he had spent far too much time playing hide-and-seek with his brothers.

He stumbled and almost fell as a particularly vile orc in front of him tugged ruthlessly on his rusty chains. If his eyes could've opened, Estel would've sent a glare that would kill a full-grown ox.

No one, NO ONE, would master him.

Estel was jerked out of his thoughts as the party of three orcs grated to a halt before a particularly dim looking cell. Estel forced his left eye halfway open, letting in the minimal light that graced the bowels of the despicable castle. The grimy bars were spaced just close enough together that he couldn't make it all the way through, but with all the strange looking slime that covered them he wasn't sure he would want to anyway. The air was musty, and smelled of rotten food. He heard snuffles off in the far reaches of the tunnel, and absentmindedly wondered whom they could be coming from.

But at present, he had problems of his own.

Estel was shoved roughly into his prison, falling on his already bruised and bloody face. Without bothering to unlock his manacles, the orcs tramped off, laughing at some unknown and unappreciated humor. Estel clumsily rubbed his wrists and glared at the retreating backs of the orcs, muttering a few choice elven curse words under his breath. He stood up with what strength he had left and walked to the cell door. Looking down the hallway, he saw one long, dark tunnel. However, this one had no light at the other end. He hung his head in despair, kicking a stray rock with his bare foot.

That was when he heard the little voice across from him.

"Yrch! Wethrinaer…yrch! Lye anta kel! Lye anta kel! Orcs! Decietful one…orcs! We need to leave! We need to leave!" mumbled a distressed figure in his sleep. Estel cocked his head, studying the tiny body with pitiful eyes. The tinyfigure rocked back and forth, obviously distressed and panicked. The being's long, dirtied hair covered most of its face, but Estel caught the sight of a pointed ear as the figure rolled to one side. It was an elfling.

The young boy could not have been over fifty years old, an age of naive innocence for elves. His tattered tunic was the remains of a soft, green fabric that Estel had never seen before, though it seemed slightly familiar. Large, pointy ears were covered with slightly dirtied snow-white hair, only a little lighter than Glorfindel's, who was the only light-haired elf that Estel knew. His face was scrunched into an expression of pure terror, and he cried out again, his back arching as if out of pain. Estel started.

"Echuio, pen-olthol! Wake up, dreaming one!" he pleaded, shaking the little one slightly. The elf's eyes snapped open, and he stared up in horror at Estel, and opened his mouth to scream. Estel quickly put his hand over the little one's mouth. They didn't need another excuse for the orcs to come back.

"Shhhhhh. Naa sal, mellon-dithen. Men beriar aen. Be still, little friend. We are safe," soothed Estel in soft elvish. The boy calmed, his breathing slowing to a few short gasps a minute, and tears started to form in his eyes. He looked up at Estel in silent wonder, taking in his swollen eyes, the crude, bloodstained bandage around his head, and the naked torso of his "savior". He had dark brown hair, something the little one had never seen before, and soft stubble was starting to sprout on his face. This stranger looked ragged and wild, yet as he looked into the blue-gray eyes of the dark-haired man, he could see understanding and kindness. However, could he trust him?

Too many times, the young elfling had been fooled into a trusting nature, and too many times had it led him to problems beyond his ability to cope with. He did not want to make that mistake again.

"Ya naa lle? Who are you?" asked the young elfling. Estel smiled, knowing full well that this little boy might not know anything other than Sindarin, a language he knew all too well. He smiled kindly, and continued the conversation in elvish.

"My name is Estel, pen-neth, young one. What's yours?" Estel asked kindly. The elfling stared at him for a moment, gauging whether or not this new stranger was trustworthy. Estel must have passed the test, for the moment, for the elfling spoke in a quiet, trembling voice a moment later.

"Landolin." the boy replied quietly, a small blush shining through his tear-stained face. He shivered a little, rubbing his arms in an attempt to awaken his frozen limbs. Estel frowned, concerned. He thought elves weren't that affected by cold. He reached over his shoulder to take off his cloak to shelter the little one, only to remember that it now lay somewhere in the passes of the Misty mountains, buried under many feet of snow.

"Well, Landolin, it's nice to meet you, although I wish it could've been under better circumstances," said Estel, sighing at the thought of the dank dungeon. Landolin smiled back, although more tears fell from his eyes. Estel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why someone so young was kept under such inhuman conditions, but decided to avoid the subject until the boy was more emotionally stable.

"Why are you here?" Landolin asked innocently. The boy's large green-blue eyes stared up at Estel, silently pleading that that reason was not related to master's notoriously short temper. The elfling's small figure leaned back against the wall, but the hiss of pain did not escape Estel's notice. He squinted through the darkness at the little-one's back, and gasped in surprise at what he saw.

"You're hurt!" Estel exclaimed, moving closer to Landolin. Landolin shifted positions, edging closer to the opposite wall in an attempt to stay out of reach of Estel's long arms.

"So are you," the little elf countered. Estel self-consciously touched the bandage over his ears, noting the dried blood that covered it and the dull headache he received every time something brushed against them.

"I'll live," he stated simply, scooting closer to Landolin. This time, the young elf stayed in his place, at last putting some substantial amount of faith in his cellmate. Estel hesitantly placed his hand on the elf's shoulder, and sighed in relief when the little one did not pull back. Slowly the young human lowered Landolin into a position where he was lying on his stomach and his back was exposed. The foster-son of Elrond grimaced as he saw the torture that such a small child was put through. Deep, numerous lacerations dotted the elfling's back, and Estel could see the white glint of bone in several places. Where there weren't cuts, dark blue bruises covered the fair-being's skin, hiding the true color of Landolin's back. Estel tentatively tested each bruise, muttering quick apologies to his patient as he did so, and to his dismay discovered that Landolin also sported several fractured ribs. It was more than any human child would have been able to take.

Thank the Valar that this one was of the eldar.

Estel, having few supplies with him, wondered at what he could do to ease this elf's pain. He had some athelas leaves in his boot, an annoying habit that his brothers had drilled into him over many hunting mishaps. He had next to no cloth at his disposal, let alone clean bandages to use. The young human took off his boot and reached into the toe of the boot, withdrawing a wonderfully fresh smelling plant. Landolin sniffed the air, and looked up when he caught the fresh scent.

"What's that?" he asked Estel curiously. Estel tore off a few leaves and held them in front of the elfling.

"It's a healing herb called 'athelas'," Estel told him. Landolin squinted, picking up a solitary leaf between two fingers.

"What's it do?" he asked. Estel laughed.

"You mean besides heal?" he suggested. Landolin couldn't suppress the giggles that formed in his throat at that comment, and he nodded, telling Estel to go on. "Well, they are wonderful for numbing," he continued, crushing the delicate leaves in his fists, "and, as you can probably tell, they have a very fresh scent." He breathed in deeply, remembering the first time his father had taught him to use they mysterious plant so many years ago in his mind. He glanced at the now crumpled leaves in the palm of his hand, and pondered what to do with them next. Usually, if time and supplies permitted, the athelas would have to be boiled in a pot of water. However, without even looking around, Estel could tell that such an act would be impossible. Shrugging almost imperceptibly, he popped the green herb into his mouth and chewed, squinting his eyes as he did so. Athelas may smell like a new spring day, but it tasted like his father's sleeping tea- bitter and sharp.

After he had done this, Estel took the paste out of his mouth and began gently applying the anesthetic to the young elf's back, smiling as the blonde boy sighed in relief. He worked in silence for a few moments, and then Landolin began talking again.

"You still haven't answered my question," he stated simply. Estel cocked an eyebrow.

"What question?" he mumbled, still concentrating on the little one's back.

"Why are you here?" he repeated his earlier inquiry, lifting his head again as he spoke. Estel gently pushed it back down.

"You know as much as I do," Estel replied. Landolin, however, was far from satisfied. He shifted his position slightly, propping his chin up on his arms, and spoke again, staring out past the bars that imprisoned them and imagining that fields of grass and trees as green as an emerald spread as far as the eye could see.

"Well then, where are you from?" asked the boy. Estel closed his eyes, imagining his own home. His ada smiled at him in his mind's eye, and he heard the laughter of his two quarreling adopted brothers in the back round. Opening his eyes again, he glanced around the dim cell they were trapped in, and then at the softly glowing body next to him on the ground.

"I was raised in Imladris, under the care of Lord Elrond," Estel told Landolin. Landolin started when he heard the last comment. He looked up at Estel, new admiration brimming in his eyes.

"You are a son of Elrond?" the elfling gasped. Estel nodded, only half-lying, he reminded himself.

"Yes, and also in a lot of trouble whenever I get out of here," he mused. Landolin laughed, and Estel laughed with him. For a moment, aside from the dark, dank cell that smelled of dead rats and the deep feeling of imprisonment, the two new friends shared a brief moment of happiness.

The heavy clunk clunk clunk of booted footsteps reached the pair's ears a moment later.

There you are! Hope you liked it!

Well, I don't have time to reply to any reviews this time, sorry. I'm heading to the library to study for finals insert censored word here>. But thanks to everyone who took the time to review!! hint hint

The next chapter doesn't have a title yet, but I promise I'll try my best to get it in by tomorrow.

Chao!!!

CzechChicka