Growing Pains

by ScribeofArda

A tale of when a young Aragorn, only sixteen, met Legolas for the first time in his life. Takes place far before the war that would be fought, and the battles they would end up fighting together, and tells the story of the beginning of the deep friendship between a man and an elf.

2. Chapter 2

Growing Pains- Chapter 2

Again, I am so so sorry that it has been so long since you have had a new story. On the plus side, I can make much longer chapters now :) Fair warning- because this story is so long, it is going to take a few chapters to set up the characters and the themes and ideas that are going to run for the entire 80 000 words that this story will take to tell. So yes, I understand that this is mainly a conversation chapter, and it might feel like it is going rather slowly, but I promise it will pick up soon, and this is needed for the rest of the story to work like I want it to.

Thank you for everyone who has reviewed so far- to the guests who have reviewed, I wish I could send you a message and thank you personally, but unfortunately I can't. So thank you!

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Legolas took a sip from his wine, gently swirling the dark red liquid in the goblet as he leant back, resting his head against the headboard of Elladan's bed. It had been a few hours since he had arrived, and he was weary. Thankfully, he had already spoken to Elrond and relayed to him what his father had told him to say.

Elladan and Elrohir leant back next to him, smiling slightly. "How long will you be here?" Elladan asked Legolas. "We never actually read Thranduil's message. He did give you leave to stay, didn't he?"

"Aye," said Legolas. "Adar also sent more for some other reasons, rather than one of the other captains."

Elrohir sighed. "What reasons?"

"Do I need a thousand reasons to come and see my old friends?" asked Legolas with a laugh. His smile lessened, and he sighed. "I took…took some injuries when in the south. They…" He grinned in slight embarrassment. "They were not treated properly, as we had no time. On return to the palace, I ended up spending four days in the healing wards."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at him with exasperated expressions, and Legolas smiled. "In my defence, the wounds did not heal quickly because I had taken them in the south. But my father thought I may need some time away from the darkness in Mirkwood."

He looked over at Elrond. "My father gave me permission to stay for a month. The escort will be returning tomorrow, but I will not go with them."

Elrohir poured out more wine from the bottle on the side. Legolas sighed. "It has been too long, mellyn-nin," he murmured, taking a sip.

"It has," agreed Elladan. "How is Mirkwood?"

Legolas raised one eyebrow. "You were there when I informed your father of Mirkwood," he said. "For quite a while, all we talked about was Mirkwood. Is there something I missed?"

Elladan chuckled. "No, but there is more to Mirkwood than border patrols and training the younger warriors," he pointed out.

Legolas nodded. "I suppose so," he said, taking another sip of wine. "Mirkwood is holding on. It is much the same as when you last visited, if a little less dark. There have been a lot of feasts recently." He chuckled. "And you know how we love our wine in Mirkwood."

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Yes, we do," he said. "I still remember the time we all drank too much and you managed to get us lost in the palace."

Legolas raised one eyebrow. "I got us lost? If I remember correctly, you were the one to say you knew where we were!"

"He was drunk," said Elladan. "We all were. I think you could have put us in the Shire and we still would have thought ourselves in Mirkwood."

"True," said Legolas. He laughed, his eyes merry, and both Elladan and Elrohir smiled at the sight. Legolas leant back in his chair, taking a sip from his wine. He looked over at the twins. "How has life been here?"

Elrohir shrugged. "It is the same," he said. "Apart from Estel, now."

Legolas looked curious. "I was meaning to ask," he said. "Why do you have a mortal as a foster brother?"

"It's complicated," said Elladan, and sighed at Legolas' irritated expression. "He was…the son of a village chief who was killed in an orc attack. We had known him well."

Legolas' expression softened. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Don't be," said Elrohir, taking up the story. "Estel was two years old at the time, and we felt that we owed his mother, the chieftain's wife, a debt, so we offered to bring her and Estel here."

"He has stayed with us ever since, and is like a brother," said Elladan. "Adar rather took to him, and he is basically his son now. His mother is usually here as well, but she is currently away, visiting kin."

Legolas frowned. "But he is mortal," he pointed out.

"We are aware," said Elrohir dryly. "But there was no option, not for us. He is our brother. Blood has nothing to do with it."

"I am not disputing that," said Legolas. "It is obvious you two care deeply for him."

"He is brave, and has a good heart," said Elladan. "Being mortal has nothing to do with any of that, we have discovered."

"Aye, I know," murmured Legolas. "I was at the Battle of the Five Armies. I saw men fight, just as fiercely and as passionate as the elves around me." He looked up. "Have you been training him?"

"And Glorfindel," said Elrohir. "He is good with a sword. Not as fast as an elf, but nearly. But he is still young, but a child."

"What about the bow?"

Elrohir grinned. "Of course you would ask," he said. "Yes, we have taught him to shoot. He is a passable archer, but he will be a better swordsman."

Legolas grinned. "He is only a passable archer because he has had you two fools teaching him." He laughed at Elladan and Elrohir's expressions. "Give me two weeks," he said. "I will teach him to shoot straighter than either of you."

"He can shoot perfectly well," said Elladan.

"You are just defending him," replied Legolas. "Because he is your brother."

Elrohir studied him. "You seem very accepting of this," he said slowly. "After all, it is a strange thing to find when you visit Imladris."

Legolas shrugged. "Mellyn-nin, I would expect nothing less of you two. Besides, he seems to fit in easily here in Imladris. But why Estel, meaning hope in the high tongue? Why the name? Surely that is not what he was named at birth?"

Elrohir and Elladan exchanged a quick glance. "It was Adar," said Elladan quickly. "You know how sentimental he can become."

Legolas nodded, but he wasn't quite convinced. Nevertheless, the dropped the subject and the talk turned to other things. For a while they spoke of nothing much, of shared past experiences in Mirkwood and Imladris, of feasts and hunting and the times they had spent together. Eventually Legolas, refilling his goblet, spoke up.

"Are you two still hunting? And by hunting, I mean orcs."

"Aye," said Elladan with a slight sigh. "Though not often, not as often as we used to."

"Having Estel around kept us here in Imladris a lot of the time," said Elrohir. "I think when he was younger, our father used him to make us stay instead of journeying out with the Rangers."

Elladan laughed. "We would be talking about going, about to pack, and then Adar would turn up with a young Estel in his arms and ask us to watch him, because he was too busy, or some other excuse. And then when Estel was older we spent a lot of time teaching him to fight."

"Does Estel know about the hunting?" asked Legolas, taking a sip of his wine.

Elladan and Elrohir nodded together. "He does," said Elrohir. "But I don't think he understands. He has come out with us once or twice, but never when we are searching out orcs. He has been in battle, though, has seen orcs die, and has killed a very small number of them. He is no stranger to blood."

"He first found out when he was ten," said Elladan. "When we tried to go with the Dunedain for a few months, out hunting, and he turned up in the courtyard, his eyes big and round, asking us why we were leaving him."

"And the quivering lip," said Elladan with a chuckle. "I personally think Adar made him go to us on purpose, to stop us leaving. He knows why we go, of course, and before he has never tried to stop us, but I don't think he wanted Estel to see us when we came home. You know how we look after a long hunt, especially if we are injured."

Legolas laughed. "So you caved to a ten year old who was pouting?" he asked. "At least he is grown up now."

Elladan shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "He is only sixteen."

"There were young men around that age fighting outside Erebor six years ago," said Legolas.

"And we are not in Erebor," said Elrohir. "He is inexperienced, constantly trying to prove himself to us. The last thing we want is for him to get hurt."

"Aye," murmured Elladan. "We are not foolish. We know he will grow up soon, and will probably go and join the Rangers. Imladris, whilst safe, is not the place for a man to live. Estel needs to live among mortals, but not yet." He smiled slightly. "He is still young, and if he leaves thinking he must prove himself to be a man, it could end badly."

Elrohir sighed, and turned to look out the window. "The sun is setting," he said. "We should-" As he spoke, the clear sound of a bell suddenly rang through the house, and all three elves got to their feet at the signal for supper.

Legolas was quiet as they walked down the corridors and hallways towards the hall where they were to eat, seemingly soaking in the peaceful air of Imladris.

The hall was set for dinner, and the food was already there and waiting on the tables. Elrond was talking to Glorfindel, and as Elladan and Elrohir entered with Legolas, other elves were drifting in as well, taking their places at the table. Estel's chair was empty.

As Elladan and Elrohir sat down with Legolas, Estel wandered in, running his hand through his hair. "Sorry," he muttered, sinking into a chair. "One of the stallions got out of his pen." He grinned wryly. "He didn't want to be caught again."

"Eat," said Elladan, waving a basket of bread rolls under Estel's face. Estel rolled his eyes and grabbed a roll, tearing into it eagerly. He looked around at the other dishes on the table, and reached for the plate of roast rabbit.

Legolas watched in amusement as the food piled up on Estel's plate, before the young man dug into it happily. He turned to Elladan and Elrohir. "Do humans normally eat that much?" he asked, tearing off a piece of bread and smearing butter over it.

Elladan leant over the table and glanced at Estel. "Aye," he said. "Though I think Estel is slightly hungry today. He was training for most of the afternoon, I think."

"Aye, I would agree," said Elrohir. "Judging by the speed he is eating." He cleared his throat slightly. "Estel."

Estel looked up, putting down his knife and fork. "What is it?"

"The food is going nowhere," said Elrohir. "You can slow down."

Estel glowered at him, but it was short lived. He grinned at his two brothers, and then turned to Legolas. "I am sorry," he said. "I give the impression Adar has taught me no manners. He has, I just choose to ignore them when hungry."

Legolas laughed. "That sounds like Elladan and Elrohir," he said, ignoring the amused glares from the twins. "I have been in Imladris quite a lot, enough to have heard that one a few times."

Estel looked up, a forkful of food on the way to his mouth. "How long have you known my brothers?" he asked.

Legolas paused. "How long has it been?" he asked the twins. "Five hundred years, more or less?"

Elladan nodded. "Maybe close to six hundred since we first met you in Mirkwood," he said between mouthfuls.

Legolas turned back to Estel. "Six hundred, then," he said. "But we only see each other every decade or so. I don't leave Mirkwood often. Have you been outside of Imladris often?"

Estel shook his head. "Apparently it is too dangerous," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I just wish Elladan and Elrohir would back off sometimes. They are quite protective." He reached for another plate of food and put some on his own plate, balancing it precariously as he looked over at Legolas. Elrond and Glorfindel were in conversation on the other side of him. In the corners a few elves sat with harps and lutes, and the soft music filled the room.

"Of course they are," said Legolas. "They feel responsible for you. They are your brothers, aren't they? Besides, they do the same to me sometimes."

"Really?" asked Estel.

"I am a lot younger than them," said Legolas. "They know I can hold my own in a battle, but when it comes to injuries, they never trust me." He laughed and took a sip from his goblet of wine, raising an eyebrow at Estel, who burst out laughing with a snort.

"Of course we never trust you!" said Elrohir, catching the last part of their conversation. "Because you never, ever, tell anyone if there is a gaping hole in your side!"

"Or a gash on your leg."

"Or a poisoned cut on your arm that makes you collapse."

"Or-"

"I get it!" said Legolas with a laugh. "I cannot be trusted."

"Hear that, Estel?" asked Elrohir. "You can trust Legolas to have your back in a battle. You can trust him to kill that orc behind you with his last arrow. What you can't trust him to do is be truthful about his injuries. Never."

Estel nodded. "I will remember that," he said. He took another mouthful of food. "So what is it you do, as a captain of Mirkwood?"

Legolas shrugged. "I draw up and lead patrols, often with my second in command, Belhadron. I attend councils and train the younger elves who are to be warriors."

Glorfindel leant over from the other end of the table. "That reminds me, Legolas," he said. "I heard from one of the warriors of your escort about new training tactics you put in place?"

Legolas turned to him. "They were Belhadron's, actually, but aye, we changed the routine for the older novices." He began to talk quickly, and Estel zoned out slightly as they spoke of training regimes and weapons, and other things besides.

Estel watched Legolas out of the corner of his eye. Despite having woken up early, or at least, his definition of early, to meet the Prince, he found himself instinctively liking Legolas. The elf was, well, nice. Estel couldn't think of another word for it. He had never met elves of Mirkwood before, and had thought Legolas would be serious, given the state of their home.

Yet Legolas was cheerful, laughing with Elladan and Elrohir, speaking animatedly to Glorfindel. It was only when he spoke of the injuries elves on his patrol had gained, or the struggles at borders, that Estel thought he saw a hint of sadness, or anger, in his face.

Estel suddenly realised what it was about Legolas that was different, as the blond archer laughed at one of Elrohir's comments. The elf was simply more present. Elves in Imladris, Estel had found, were often distant, remote and beautiful, like elves are in the tales. Legolas was, in a weird way, closer to a mortal in that respect. Maybe because he was younger, or maybe because he lived in Mirkwood, and in those forests you had to live in the present or you would be killed, but Legolas seemed to be more near than most of the other elves he knew.

Elladan and Elrohir were similar, thought Estel, though far older than Legolas. But he knew that they spent a lot more time with mortals than most elves, hunting with the Rangers. They sought vengeance for the treatment of their mother at the hands of orcs, and Estel suspected that, much like Legolas, his brothers stayed in the present, or they would be killed. He also suspected that maybe, for all three of them the past was a little too painful to dwell in for too long.

Maybe that was why he liked Legolas, mused Estel. Estel had spent fourteen years of his life in Imladris, surrounded for the most part by elves. Legolas was different. Despite having, with the exception of Glorfindel, the most elven blood at the table, Estel felt he was more present, for lack of a better word, than any of them. More like a mortal, in some ways.

Anyway, those were just the rambling thoughts of a sixteen year old, and Estel shoved them to the back of his mind as Legolas turned to him.

"The twins tell me they were responsible for teaching you to fight," he said.

Estel nodded. "Aye," he said. "Though Glorfindel taught me a lot as well."

"The bow?"

Estel shook his head. "That was Elladan and Elrohir." He speared another piece of meat on his knife and brought it to his mouth. Ai Valar, he loved the food in Imladris.

Legolas smiled. "Good," he said. "Because I would fear for my life if I insulted Glorfindel's skills."

Estel laughed. "So would I," he said. "But you are not afraid of insulting my brothers' skills, I take it?"

"Of course not," said Legolas with a chuckle. "I know I can defend myself if they take offence."

"Is Legolas belittling our shooting skills again?" asked Elladan.

Estel grinned. "Only a little," he replied. He turned to Legolas. "They aren't that bad."

Legolas sighed. "You only think that because you have not seen any different," he said. "There are no archers of Mirkwood here."

Elrohir sighed. "He is right," he said to Estel. "He does shoot better than us."

"My thanks," said Legolas with a smile. "But if we are being honest, your brothers are better with swords than I will ever be. I am an archer, not a swordsman."

"Will you teach me?" asked Estel. "So I can finally shoot straight?"

Elladan and Elrohir laughed, and Legolas smiled. "Of course," he said. "I will try and correct your brothers'…mistakes."

"As long as you don't try and teach him to climb trees," said Elladan. "We had enough trouble with that when he was a child."

Estel ducked his head, embarrassed. "I was young," he protested. "I didn't know any better."

"Until you fell out of a tree and broke your arm," pointed out Elrohir. "Then you stopped trying to climb trees too thin for an elf, let alone a child."

"Too thin for a Noldor, maybe," said Legolas with a smile. "Not a wood elf. We can be at home in any tree, anywhere."

They continued to talk and eat until late into the night. Outside the sun has long since vanished behind the hills, and the stars shone overhead. Eventually the twins, Legolas and Estel moved out to the balcony, glasses of wine in their hands. Estel leant on the balcony, spinning his goblet idly in his hands, whilst Elladan and Elrohir sat together on the thick stone ledge surrounding them. Legolas eyed the ledge for a moment, before lightly vaulting onto the thin rail of the balcony, walking along it as sure as a cat.

Estel's eyes widened, but Elladan shook his head. "He won't fall," he said reassuringly. "He didn't even spill a drop of wine."

"I wouldn't want to waste it," replied Legolas, walking calmly up and down the balcony, his footsteps silent. He stopped, looking out over the gardens of Imladris. Even in the darkness, the moon was full enough to illuminate the valley, and they could hear the river roaring through it.

Legolas paused for a moment, standing completely still on the balcony, perfectly balanced. If it wasn't for his blond hair, almost shining in the light of the fire from the hall behind them, Estel would have found it hard to see the archer. He was dressed in dark, forest green clothes, and the lack of any cloak made him even stiller on the balcony.

Legolas sighed slightly. "Peaceful," he murmured. "It's strange."

Elladan got up and leant on the balcony, next to Legolas' feet. "I know," he said.

Legolas looked down at him, one eyebrow raised. "You know?" he asked. "How can you-" He stopped himself. "Forgive me," he murmured, taking a sip from his wine glass.

"Don't worry," said Elladan softly. "I know how it is." He stood up and leant forwards on the balcony, on one side of Legolas' soft boots as the blond elf stood on the balcony. "We both know how it is," he said softly, glancing back at Elrohir.

"Aye," said Legolas. He took another sip of wine. "How it is," he said scathingly. "How it-" He let out a string of half muttered curses in a variety of languages.

Elrohir raised an eyebrow from where he was sat. "I didn't know you knew how to say that in Khuzdul," he said.

"The advantages of being in closer relations with Erebor," said Legolas with a smile, but Estel noticed it wasn't completely genuine.

"Well, don't say it again," said Elladan with a grin. "Estel is only sixteen."

Estel scoffed. "I know as many curses as you," he said. His brothers had probably been the ones to teach him all the curses he knew, though Glorfindel had proved invaluable whenever he was injured. Actually, thought Estel with a smile, he had learnt some of his most inventive curses when Glorfindel had broken his arm last summer.

"I doubt it," said Elrohir. Legolas didn't say anything, still looking out over the valley from the balcony, the wine glass in his hand.

Estel looked up. "Were you in the Battle of the Five Armies, Legolas?"

For a moment Legolas was so still Estel thought he had frozen solid. Then, with a small shake of his head, Legolas sighed and turned to look down at Estel. "Aye," he said softly.

There was a moment of silence, before Legolas turned, still standing on the balcony. "I was there the entire time," he said softly. "I fought in the valley in the battle."

Estel looked up, and saw a sudden sadness pass over the elf's face, like a shadow. Elladan looked up. "Mellon-nin?" he asked softly.

Legolas shook his head and smiled. "Many elves, many men and dwarves did not survive that battle. It was worth it in the end, for we defeated the darkness, but we paid dearly for it. We are still paying for it in Mirkwood. We lost many captains and many other elves. Almost every elf under the trees has been affected in some way."

He smiled softly. "If the Eagles had not come when they had, if Beorn had not arrived, then maybe we would have lost. If they had been any later, then I and many others might be dead." Legolas almost seemed to shake himself, and he looked down at smiled at the twins. "But that did not happen, and I am here. Yet you do not seem surprised by some of this news, when I was speaking to your father."

Elladan looked up. "Mithrandir told us, when he passed back through with the perian," he said. "Told us everything he knew."

Legolas sighed. "Of course he did," he muttered. He sighed again. "Forgive me, mellyn-nin," he said, looking down at Elladan and Elrohir. "It was a long journey, and I cannot shake the conversation with your father."

"What was it-?"

Elladan shook his head. "Not now, Estel," he said. "And Legolas, come down from that infernal balcony. You cannot shake the conversation, but I cannot shake the feeling that you are going to fall. I would be much happier with your two feet on the ground, not the ledge."

Legolas scowled slightly, but he jumped lightly down from the balcony and leant on it instead, in between Elladan and Elrohir. "I am tired," he said softly.

"We know," said Elladan, clasping Legolas' shoulder. "We know."

Estel backed off slightly as a whispered conversation began between the three elves, guessing the conversation now did not include him. Gently placing his half full glass of wine on the ledge, he left the balcony, exiting by a side door to go back to his room. He didn't know how long Legolas and his brothers would be awake, but he knew if he was to do anything tomorrow he needed to sleep. That was one of the problems growing up in a household of elves, he thought with a wry smile to himself. As a child, he had never realised he needed to sleep a lot more than everyone else.

He reached his chambers and walked in, noticing with a smile that the fire was still burning. Building it up, Estel lay back on his bed, his mind wandering over the past day.

He liked Legolas, despite the fact he barely knew him. He seemed more similar to his brothers than any other elves he had met, and he loved his brothers. He wondered whether all wood elves were like Legolas. At times, he grasped maybe hints of how bad things had been in the past in Mirkwood, how things were becoming worse, and he wondered what Legolas had seen.

Estel grimaced as his neck cricked, and got up, taking off his more formal clothes in exchange for something to sleep in. He stoked up the fire before crawling into bed and sprawling on his stomach. He sighed.

He was sixteen years old now, and still his brothers saw him as the small child that had been deposited in their arms. He had noticed it again this night, though not as much. Estel grinned into his pillows. As much as he loved his brothers, they could be stubborn sometimes. Again another disadvantage of living with elves- he was a lot younger than all of them, all the time.

Estel slowly drifted off into sleep, whilst the fire spluttered in the fireplace and on the balcony, three elves talked late into the night.

To Be Continued...

Again, I understand it is a little slow, but things will pick up soon, and then we can have some fun... Well, maybe not fun for the characters. Mwahaha... As always, reviews are very welcome. Next chapter will be up on Saturday.