Chapter V: Ransom Note

A/N: Thanks for the one review… I guess…again anything spoken in Sindarin is in italics as well as one's thoughts. Should be easy to spot the difference. Oh, and there is a flashback scene that shall be in italics. The town of Strayton, although merely mentioned (currently), belongs to Cassia and Siobhan, authors of the Mellon Chronicles. I take no credit for the town.

A man stumbled across the Ford of Bruinen. An elf on guard for any news or sign of Estel's return crouched in a tall birch next to the Ford. Upon seeing the man he lighted down and rushed into the water to catch the man as he fell into the water. The man collapsed into the elf's arms unconscious. The guard called to other nearby elves as he struggled to carry the man out of the river. Two elves ran towards them and together they carried the man to the healing wing of Imladris.

Elrond gazed up at the stars. Weariness from lack of rest and worry clouded his eyes but he refused to walk in the dreams of elves. Celebfán knelt down and gently placed a hand on his Lord's shoulder, "Hir nin, you must get some rest."

"I am fine, Celebfán," he answered wearily. Celebfán's emotionless eyes were filled with worry and sorrow. Elrond had not rested, he knew, since the morning Estel was discovered missing. Celebfán feared for Lord Elrond. So much pain and loss over the thousands of years of the half-elf's life of persons he loved. He feared that if they lost Estel, Lord Elrond might give up and fade. A part of Celebfán believed that Elrond would be strong enough for this and wise enough, but he also knew that grief could consume a person. Make one feel all alone in the world, insufficient, and lost.

"Nay, Hir nin, you cannot search for your son if you have no strength."

"He must be found."

"He will be."

"What if he is not, Celebfán?" Elrond faced Celebfán and stared deeply into his eyes. Familiar sense of loss and grief was etched on the half-elf's face. "He is much too young survive in the wilds alone and unaided. He is the last, and I cannot believe that he was spared from the orcs that slew his father only to perish now and so young before his time. That is not what I have seen." The memory of Elrond's first meeting with the young chieftain of the Dúnedain flooded into his mind.

Elrond walked upon the flagstones down across the yard to where his sons and a young human woman and babe rode up. It had been foreseen in the recent years that Arathorn would be short lived, and now as he approached the new arrivals, dread edged at his heart that this had been so. He met his sons' eyes as Elrohir tended to their mounts and Elrohir helped the woman and child down. He could see it in their eyes. The grey orbs spoke of death and loss. He asked them silently with his eyes and they revealed to him that it was so. The woman approached Elrond timidly carrying the child with the Twins just behind her. Elladan introduced her as Gilraen and her son Aragorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain. Elrond called a servant and ordered rooms to be made for Gilraen and her son.

The Hall of Fire was empty save one sitting in a chair before the great everlasting fire. His fingers lightly held a glass of wine ignored as His grey eyes stared into the flames that danced before him. His thoughts were dark and brooding. A small hand on his lap startled him out of his reverie. He looked down and smiled at the two year old who stood staring back at him. Aragorn held out his arms, "Dada, hold." Almost instantly the child was being cradled in Elrond's comforting embrace. Elrond's eyes glazed over at the contact as a vision unfolded in his mind: a young man, a warrior before Minas Tirith. He led an army through the city. A star was worn upon his cloak, people cheered and shouted and praised him, though Elrond could not make out what they said. The vision faded as quickly as it appeared and he was back in the Hall of Fire holding the two-year-old boy. Isildur's only remaining heir was to become king. He could hardly believe it after so many years that the young child he held in his arms was the hope of Gondor. He smiled and looked down at the child cradled in his arms. The boy slept. Elrond rested his chin on the boy's head and smiled softly, "Estel," he whispered.

The memory faded as his mind returned to the present, "You're right, hannon le." Elrond succumbed to blending night with deep dreams one with another. Celebfán relaxed into a more comfortable position next to Elrond and stared into the night sky.

"Eru, watch over Estel. Keep him safe," he prayed as submitted him self to the same sleep.

Word reached them the next day of the man in the healing wing. The man had awoken and told the elves of the message he carried for Elrond regarding Estel. Elrond and Celebfán hastened back to valley. The healer in Lord Elrond first checked the man's injuries even though the other healers in the healing wing had done a more than adequate job with the man. When he was satisfied he brought a chair over next to the bed, "What happened?" The man explained that he was going home from the local tavern of Pine Hill, a small town not too far from Strayton. He was minding his own business when he was jumped from behind. He couldn't see the man's face and had no idea who this man was or what he had done but the man beat and dragged him towards Rivendell and told him to tell Elrond of Rivendell, that if he wanted to see his precious boy again, he would follow this list of instructions. The man in the bed produced a crumpled piece of parchment.

"Please do as he asks, he says he'll kill my daughter if I fail," the man begged. Elrond took the note from the man with a soft nod. He wished the man swift healing before retreating to his study. He leaned heavily upon his desk, panting with rage as fear gripped his heart. What foolish humans would possibly believe that they could challenge the Lord of Imladris? He began to weigh his options and the best way to go about this that would be safest for his son. It was a lot of money. He was to send someone with the money to the outskirts of Pine Hill within a week. There they were to wait till they were contacted. This person had to come alone or they would "hurt Estel". The only way he could see to keep Estel safe through all of this was to follow the directions. Then he would seek justice on these men who would dare to harm a member of his family. In a moment of rage he thrust his arm out and cleared his desk off in one sweep. Papers scattered and flew before floating to the floor. An inkbottle, luckily capped, thudded to the floor along with a few other items. Taking a few deep-calming breaths, he collected his self. He closed his eyes as he breathed and opened them when he calmed himself. He bent down and began to pick up the scattered objects.

Erestor stood outside the closed oak doors of the study waiting for his Lord to call him if he needed him. He had heard his Lord's shout of rage and the sound of items scattering. He restrained rushing to his side, knowing that Elrond needed this time alone. He had not seen Elrond like this in a long time. Not since… "Erestor," Elrond's calm voice broke him of his thoughts about Celebrían. As he approached him he had the suspicion that Elrond would do as requested of him regarding Estel. Elrond handed him the crumpled note, "Gather the amount requested on this note and select someone you trust to take it to Pine Hill. Do everything the note requires." Erestor took the note and read it.

"Hir nin, this-"

"It is only money. Surely my son's life is worth at least that much," he cut off his advisor sadly. Not even wanting to try and think of how someone could put a value on another person's life. He walked over to his veranda and gazed out at Eärendil with his hands clasped behind his back. Erestor bowed and left the room quietly.

TBC

Hir nin- my lord

Hannon le- thank you

I know rather short especially compared to chapter 4 but oh well. Hopefully the next will be longer.