Growing Pains- Chapter 9
Thank you very much for all the positive reviews and comments on this story- it really does make my day to see it. Next chapter here- Estel has a choice to make, and he may not choose the right thing...
Mwahaha.
Anyway, here's the chapter :)
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1
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Estel awoke with a gasp. He sat up, and for a brief few moments he wasn't in his room, lying in tangled sheets, but sitting again on the branch of the tree, the orcs milling about below him. He could still see the arrow headed straight for him.
He sat there, until the images faded and he once again saw the dark interior of his room in Imladris. The fire was burning low, and a sudden gust of wind slammed against the shutters separating off the balcony.
Estel slipped out of bed, his bare feet flinching as he touched the cold floor. Quietly he padded to the shutters and threw one back, slipping out onto the balcony. Outside it was grey, thick clouds covering the night sky. A hint of light told Estel that it was very early morning. The light was enough for him to see by, if not clearly, and he sighed, moving forwards to lean on the balcony.
This part of the balcony was protected by an overhang, but outside the rain was falling heavily, drumming on the ground, the sound obscuring everything but the shriek of the wind and the rustling of the trees as they swayed. Estel stayed still, watching.
"You cannot sleep?"
The voice made him jump, and Estel spun around to see Legolas sitting on the other end of the balcony. For some reason he was fully dressed in his usual green and brown hunting clothes, and his long blond hair was flattened down by the rain.
Estel raised one eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" he asked softly. "You do have your own room."
Legolas shrugged and got smoothly to his feet on the balcony rail, walking over to where Estel was leaning on it. A strong gust of wind made him sway, and Estel almost gasped, but the blond elf quickly righted himself and sat down on the rail next to Estel.
"I was in the trees," he said. Now Estel could look at him properly, he could see that Legolas' cloak was soaked, along with his leggings and tunic. "If I can, I stay in the branches when I am here, especially after a hunt or fight." A smile tugged at the corner of the elf's mouth. "It is peaceful."
"You are soaked through," pointed out Estel. Legolas shrugged slightly.
"I do not mind. I can change in the morning." He settled on the balcony rail, before turning again to Estel. "You did not answer my question."
"What?" asked Estel, only half paying attention to the blond elf. His mind was still too full of orcs and arrows and fear. He grimaced at the feeling, gulping it down. His left arm, secured in the white cast, itched, and he futilely tried to scratch it. It didn't work.
"You cannot sleep," said Legolas, a statement this time, not a question. "And I imagine that when you try, you see everything that has happened his day, and then you wake."
Estel glared at him. "I am fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I am not a child, and I can cope! I do not need everyone treating me like a wounded pup."
"If you are fine, then why can you not sleep?" asked Legolas, his voice suddenly sharp. Estel, surprised at the change, looked over at him.
"I know what it is you are thinking, Estel," said Legolas, softer now. "Or I know roughly what is on your mind. And I am not the only one. Your brothers will know, as soon as they see you, and I wager Lord Elrond and Glorfindel do as well."
"Oh really?" asked Estel, anger rising as Legolas continued to poke at the matter. "Really, Legolas? What is it I am thinking, then?"
Legolas paused for a minute. "You are angry," he said slowly, with a roll of his eyes from Estel at the obvious statement. Legolas continued. "Because you do not know how to make sense of the thoughts running through your head. You are angry because you wanted to prove yourself to be a man, and you think you have failed in that regard. Moreover, you are ashamed that you felt fear, that you were afraid of the orcs, because it means that you are not ready."
Estel gaped at him, and Legolas smirked slightly at his expression. Quickly Estel shut his mouth. "Lucky guess," he muttered.
"Not a guess," said Legolas. "I have lived for a long time, Estel. I have known others who have struggled with the same thing. And I know that you need to talk to someone. Not Lord Elrond, maybe, or Lord Glorfindel, but someone you trust. Speak to your brothers, if you do not trust me enough."
"I trust you," said Estel suddenly. He didn't really know why, and he didn't know that he did until he had said those words, but he trusted the blond archer. After all, Legolas had looked out for him earlier this day, and there was something about the elf that reminded him of his brothers- a fierce determination that would not allow them to do anything but their best, when it came to what they did.
"You barely know me," said Legolas softly. Despite this, he smiled at Estel. He himself trusted a lot of people, mainly his warriors, but there were only a few that he truly, properly trusted with everything. It was more than being able to trust them with his life- he trusted many of his warriors with his life. But the few that he explicitly trusted, he trusted them with more. He just wasn't sure what.
Either way, it had been a long time since Legolas had seen someone trust as openly as Estel. He supposed it was his age- he was so young. In Mirkwood, it wasn't as if trust was hard earned amongst the warriors- after all, they had to constantly have each other's backs, and so any lack of trust amongst them was pretty harmful. Yet it was a different kind of trust to the open, almost instinctive trust Estel now had in Legolas. In Mirkwood, they trusted one another because they had to. Estel was trusting Legolas because he could.
And as Legolas watched Estel, he smiled. "So I am right?" he asked softly. "What I described- that is close enough?"
Estel felt the slightly more pleasant thoughts of trusting Legolas fly out of his head, and his mouth felt dry. He jerked his head in a nod. "Aye," he muttered.
Legolas slipped down from the balcony rail, and turned so he was leaning on the balcony rail next to Estel. The storm outside reminded them of itself as a gust of wind blew into them, sending Legolas' blond hair flipping across his face. The elf looked over at Estel pulling his hair out of the way.
"I was told this many, many years ago," he said. "By a good friend of mine. Estel, nobody is ever ready. Nobody is ever not afraid."
Estel snorted. "Like I believe that," he said. "You and my brothers have been fighting for centuries. How can you be afraid anymore? How can orcs cause in you the same fear that…" He trailed off, unable to voice the last part of that sentence: that they cause in me.
Legolas shook his head. "I may not be afraid of orcs anymore," he said. "But there is always something, in any fight, that will find a way into your head. You have to learn to block it out, Estel, but it is always going to be there."
Estel was silent, and Legolas sighed. "Do you know how old I was when I first fought orcs?" he asked, the memory springing unbidden to his mind. Estel shook his head.
"I was near forty," said Legolas. "And I was terrified. It was the first time I had used my weapons in a real fight. That fear never really leaves you, but I pray to the Valar that you never get to the point where you are so adept at covering it, that it is almost like it isn't there. That is what has happened to your brothers and I, to many of the warriors that I know. The fear never leaves us; we have just become incredibly good at hiding it, because we have to."
Estel ground his teeth. "But…" he began, and he finally gave in to the maelstrom of thoughts in his head and began to spit them out. Why he was telling this to Legolas, he didn't know. He supposed that it was easier to say these things, these horrible things that you are ashamed of, to someone you knew enough to trust, but not well enough for them to have any idea about who you should be. That way, there is no way to let them down.
"I shouldn't be afraid," Estel insisted. "I have spent a large part of my life so far, training to be this fighter, this warrior, and now…?" He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Now I don't know what to do."
"It will come," said Legolas. "You are already adept, Estel. Believe me when I say that you coped well yesterday." It was a strange feeling that everything had happened only the day earlier. To Estel, it felt like it had been days.
Estel snorted. "I spent most of the time trying not to be sick," he muttered. "When…" He began to talk, and then suddenly all the words came rushing out of him. "When I was in that tree, and you had gone, I was so afraid. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know that I could do anything, anything at all. I was useless, and I was afraid, and now, now I am ashamed because I shouldn't be afraid! I shouldn't feel fear, because I am meant to be a man, and I want to be grown up, but how can I be, when I was so afraid? I…I just…" He dropped his head. "I just want…"
"What?" asked Legolas, his voice suddenly harder. "You just want to not have to fight? Or to not feel fear? Or you just wish that there was no need for any of us to fight, no darkness to keep at bay." Estel nodded awkwardly, and Legolas, his gaze slightly cold, looked over at him.
"Wanting things to happen does not make them happen," he said. "We don't get to pick our roles sometimes, and we don't get to pick what we feel. You are going to feel fear. In times to come, you may be scared, or terrified. What for, I cannot say, but it will happen. It happens to everyone. That is life, Estel, and life right now is growing dark. There will be fighting ahead, and somehow I do not see you as someone who will sit back and not stand against the shadow."
Legolas looked out over Imladris, the rain easing off slightly now. "Things are growing darker, Estel, and you have a right to be afraid. But it doesn't make you a coward."
"How can you be so sure?" asked Estel. "I feel like…" He cursed softly, some expression he had learnt from his brothers.
"You honestly think you are a coward just because you were afraid?" asked Legolas. "Ai Valar, Estel, don't you understand? It's all right to be afraid, it really is. Fear keeps you sharp, and becoming fearless is impossible anyway. You have to learn how to control your fear, but it will always be there."
"Have you been afraid?" asked Estel suddenly, his voice soft. All the fight had gone out of it, for now at least.
Legolas nodded. "More times than I can count," he replied. "You will learn to control it, Estel." He watched the young man carefully, trying to see if he was getting through to him at all. At some points, he thought Estel was listening. And then he changed his mind as the young man became defensive all over again.
Legolas was not even sure why he was doing this. He was leaving with Elladan and Elrohir early in the morning, and though he had rested, it would not harm him to rest a little more, before the inevitable preparation of supplies and weapons that came before a hunt. He was not even particularly close to Estel- he had only known the mortal for a couple of days. Yet there was something about him that Legolas instinctively liked, something that reminded him of Elladan and Elrohir at times, and of Bard when they had first met at other times. He was not sure.
Estel sighed, exhaling sharply through his nose. "I should be able to," he muttered. "I am meant to be grown up-"
"Says who?" asked Legolas. "Have your brothers, or Lord Elrond, said this to you? Has anyone said to you that you have to grow up, right now?" He shook his head slightly at the irritated, yet upset look on Estel's face.
"I am mortal, in case you haven't noticed," spat out Estel, the fight suddenly back in his voice. "I don't have the luxury of hundreds of years to grow up. I have to do it now." He leant back on the balcony, running his hands through his hair.
"And I can't," he muttered, as much to himself as to Legolas. "I should be able to cope. Ai Valar, I should! And yet I cannot even sleep without seeing it all again in my dreams."
"You have fought orcs before, though, have you not?" asked Legolas. "Your brothers mentioned it to me." Estel looked up at him, irritated that he knew that, but he nodded anyway.
"Aye," he muttered. "But I had at least one of my brothers beside me the entire time, as well as Glorfindel, and was kept out of most of the fighting." He chuckled morosely. "And they thought I didn't notice." His mind drifted back to that time, a few months ago.
He had been scared then, but both his brothers had assured him that it was normal for his first fight. And besides, he had known that he wasn't in much danger throughout the fighting. He had killed one or two orcs, and it had kept him awake for a few days, but this…this was different.
Yesterday, he had been powerless. He hadn't expected the fear to continue after his first fight, and then he had felt ashamed that it had, like he was not living up to expectations. Yesterday, he had been unable to fight, he had not been safe, and he had been afraid. And that was why he couldn't sleep at night.
And it seemed that Legolas understood it, because he just nodded as Estel eventually got the words out and told him. When he was done, his head resting in his hands, Legolas merely squeezed Estel's shoulder.
"You need to sleep," he said. "Go to bed, Estel. Things will look better in the morning."
Estel straightened up from the balcony. He felt so dead tired, that maybe he could actually sleep without dreaming now. That would be useful. He turned around and stumbled back inside, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Legolas paused in the doorway from the balcony to the room. For a moment the wind whipped his hair, catching it and sending it flying around his head. "We will be gone when you are awake," he said softly. "But the hunt should be quick. If we are lucky, we will be back in the night."
Estel frowned. "Wait, we?" he asked. "You are going as well? You do know you are injured?"
A swift grin passed across Legolas' face. "I know," he said. "But it is not bad, and I am staying in the trees if possible."
"What about that wound in your side, the one from Mirkwood?" asked Estel. "It was bleeding yesterday, and I am betting you have not told Adar about it, which, by the way, will not make him pleased. Is that alright?"
Legolas grinned slightly. "You are getting as bad as your brothers," he said. "That wound is fine. It is old, and the bleeding stopped in a few minutes yesterday. I have not aggravated it, and you cannot use that to keep me here." He smiled, having guessed Estel's reason for bringing it up. "I will not stay behind whilst your brothers go hunting, Estel. I owe them that much." Legolas' gaze softened slightly. "Get some sleep." And then he turned, vaulted onto the balcony, and in seconds, was gone.
Estel dragged himself under the covers. The words that Legolas had spoken revolved in his head, around and around, until they coalesced into something that seemed to make sense. Estel felt a small smile flash across his face as he realised what it was he was going to do.
Yes, he was afraid, and that fear was not going anywhere. But more than ever he wanted to prove himself, to prove to his brothers and Legolas and Adar that he was better than that fear. So come first light, he knew what he was going to do. He just needed to pack a bag, grab a sword, take a horse without being noticed, and then follow his brothers and Legolas' tracks to join the fight against the orcs.
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The pale grey light of very early morning filtered through the clouds overhead and onto the courtyard. It had stopped raining, though the ground was still soaked through and the wind was blowing.
In the courtyard stood three horses, two with tack, and one with only a simple blanket over its back. Around them three elves moved, swiftly and silently, carefully packing saddlebags and checking weapons.
Legolas glanced up at the sky as he checked the arrows in his quiver, pulling out each and every one to make sure the point and the fletching were perfect. His practised hands ran over the final arrow, before replacing it in the quiver and swinging it onto his back. He glanced up again as he did up the straps, not even needing to look to do so.
"It looks like more rain," he said quietly.
Elrohir looked over from where he was buckling something to his saddle. "We may miss it," he muttered, glancing up at the gathering clouds. "We are riding out of the valley, and it looks to be veering northeast."
Legolas nodded, sliding his knives out of their sheaths and flipping them in his hands, checking them despite the fact he sharpened them only an hour or so ago. "Are we ready?" he asked.
"Aye," said Elladan, swinging himself up onto his horse. Elrohir nodded and followed suit, and then Legolas vaulted on, a slight touch of his horse's neck turning the grey mare around towards the track. This horse was not his- she was borrowed from the stables of Imladris. After all, his own stallion was lying dead on the track, where he had fallen in the snare. She was a sweet horse, quiet, but not the same as his own had been.
Glorfindel stepped out from where he had been standing by the doorway inside. "Be careful," he said. "Legolas, do not leave those trees unless you have to. I am not going to answer to Elrond if you do injure that ankle even more."
Legolas smiled, a grin flashing swiftly across his face. "Aye, my Lord," he said.
Elladan nudged his horse forwards slightly, his hand flitting to his sword, as if to check it is secured there properly. There was no need to check, for he knew it was, but the cool metal hilt set with stones was a reassuring touch in his hand. He didn't need to look over to Elrohir to know that his brother was doing, or had done, the same, and that Legolas would be running one hand down his bow, like he did before every hunt or outing. To them, the touch of weapons was one of the most reassuring things, after so many years fighting.
"We may even be back just after nightfall," said Elladan. "It depends on whether the orcs have moved on, or have stayed in the area, and how easy the tracks are to find."
Legolas looked up from where he had been running a hand down the string of his bow. "They will have probably stayed close," he said. "They know we are around here, and they have a plentiful supply of meat from mine and Estel's horses. It is unlikely they would move out, so if luck is on our side, we will find them quickly and kill them. Then we should be back in the night."
Glorfindel nodded. "May the grace of the Valar be with you three," he said, as the horses wheeled around and the three elves pushed on out of the courtyard, out of the gates of Imladris and towards the woods. Soon the sound of galloping horses was swallowed by the damp trees.
Glorfindel sighed, and turned to go back inside. "Let us hope that you will not need it."
0-o-0-o-0
Estel ducked down as he heard the slight footsteps of an elf passing in front of the window. A swift glance up revealed it was Erestor, probably heading to the library again. Estel held his breath as he passed, keeping completely still, before swiftly moving away and over the grass towards the stables.
So far, things were going to plan. Elrond had stopped by his room earlier to check his arm and the head injury he had been given yesterday, and Estel had simply pretended to be in a mood about his brothers leaving, and declared he would stay in his room all day. It seemed childish, but hopefully it would work, and nobody would think to check on him for at least a few hours.
Keeping low, Estel ran over to the back of the stables and slipped in by one of the back doors. The smell of hay and horses met him, and he briefly smiled. Three of the stalls were already empty, his brothers and Legolas having taken the horses at first light. Estel, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come in, moved down to the stall nearest the end, where a swift brown stallion was looking at him expectantly.
"Be quiet!" Estel hissed as the horse nickered at him. He quickly slipped the bridle from the peg next to the stall, dumping his pack and weapon on the floor underneath the saddle.
The sword was his in a sense. It was the one that he had used when they had fought the orcs a month or so ago, and he had fought with it before, when he had been taught how to handle a sharp blade, rather than the blunted sparring weapons he had learnt with. But he didn't have a true sword of his own, not yet. Estel supposed it was part of his brothers' overprotectiveness that they did not want to give him one.
Quickly and quietly, Estel had his horse tacked up and his supplies moved from his pack to the saddlebags, tying the now empty pack behind the rolled up blanket just in case. His brothers and Legolas had said they might be back today, but Estel was not sure how long his arrival would delay things, and whether or not his brothers and Legolas would be able to find the orcs as quickly as they hoped.
"Quiet," murmured Estel as he took his horse's reins and began to lead him slowly out of the stall and towards the exit. There was nobody around- he had picked a time when he knew there would be few people around the stables and the track entrances. After all, Estel had long ago worked out the timings and the hidden pathways that would keep him unseen. He had grown up in this valley, after all.
With a tug on the reins Estel drew the horse out of the stables and off to the side, behind a large thicket. Here there ran a small pathway, barely wide enough for the horse to fit down, but it was going to have to do. Estel's entire plan relied on him being able to get far enough away from Imladris, and preferably close to his brothers and Legolas, before someone realised he had gone. He knew riders would be sent out after him either way, but if he was already with Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, then hopefully he would be able to join in the fight. If he could time it right, Estel intended to arrive as his brothers and Legolas ambushed the orcs. That way, they could not object to his presence until the fight was over, and he could prove himself.
He felt a pang of fear go through him, but the strange excitement that also coursed through him made Estel find it easy to control the fear. He would finally do it; he would show that he could be a man.
Finally he came off the tiny track, having effectively bypassed the courtyard and the gates out of Imladris. Swinging himself up into the saddle, Estel gathered the reins. His broken arm, securely set in the plaster cast, did not really hurt, and Estel clenched the fingers into a fist, glad to feel only a slight throbbing. He had brought medical supplies as well, so could dull the pain if the need arose.
A small part of his mind pointed out that he should not be riding out with a broken arm to join in a fight against orcs. That part went on to say how he shouldn't be doing this at all, and for a moment Estel felt doubt gnaw at him.
But he quickly shook his head. "I am not a coward," he whispered to himself. "I will not be a coward." The decision had been made. He had come this far. He could not turn back.
Estel dug his heels into his horse's side and urged him on down the track, slowly at first, until he knew that the thud of the hooves on the ground would not be heard back at the courtyard. Then he leant forwards and pushed the stallion on slightly.
He was not a coward. He was doing this, and he could not turn back.
To Be Continued...
Yeah, Estel might not have completely understood what Legolas was trying to say... Oh well, I'm sure nothing bad is going to happen because of it.
Haha. Yeah right.
Next chapter will be up on Saturday :)