Disclaimer: These are not my characters and I make no money from writing this fiction.

Next morning Estel is up, dressed and begging food in the kitchens before his usual hour. Elrohir and I have been wakeful most of the night searching for the right things to say, the right ceremony. We honour our horses but this must be special.

By the time we break our fast, the twins and I are ready with something we hope will suit the mood and the spirit of the ceremony. I have given orders that all others will stay away from the river this morning.

It is a damp dawn, grey and misty so that you cannot see the distance, only the path we are following. The stones underfoot are a little slippery. The birds are filling the air with their dawn chorus. It is a happy, chaotic sound, blackbirds, thrushes, robins and many more singing to the spring dawn.

Estel walks first. He has his gift carefully stowed over his left shoulder. Ruby's bridle, which he has decided must go back to his horse. Elladan removed it and had trouble finding it again. But he persevered, and now my youngest boy trails the leather and metal down his back. I believe Estel wanted to carry it on a cushion, for I found one in his room. I recognised it as his favourite, the one on which he sat as a small boy when I allowed him in the library. But his broken arm gave him only one useful hand, and he has arrived at his own solution to the problem of carrying his gift.

I walk behind him, dressed in my best robes and wearing my crown. Elrohir and Elladan follow, silent now that we approach the river, though they have been talking quietly to one another as we descended the hill. It is fortunate we can all be together. The twins must leave us in the next moon quarter.

We walk to the field and approach the mound of earth, unmarked as yet, and Estel stops close to it. He seems utterly certain about what must be done, though none of us has taught him.

He begins to speak. I look to my sons and they to me. We did not know he had remembered his own language, but he spoke it, and these are the words as I translate them in my mind.

"This is the place of my fine horse, Ruby. Keep away from him, evil creatures. Guard him, elves and men. He was a fast horse and gentle to me, and he saved me from a bear. Let him rest. Keep this place sacred through all the ages to come."

His voice is strong and certain. He holds out his funeral gift and places it on the mound, as close to its apex as he can reach.

Beside me, I hear Elladan begin the funeral song he has chosen. Estel, as if torn from a dream turns to him and then moves to stand between his two brothers, who sing now in harmony. It is a simple tune, with a chorus which Estel learns quickly and joins with his high, sweet treble voice. It is a brief song by our reckoning, but by the time it is finished the sun is dispersing the early mist and the birds are quiet again.

I had thought this time would bring peace to my boy. I go to give him my hand, for surely he will need comfort now, and he will weep.

"Estel," I say, and I kneel so that I can speak to him face to face. "It was a fine thing you said. This place will be honoured by us all through all the ages to come."

I look into his face and see not tears, not sadness but a great anger. He gathers himself and says, "Papa, no matter how much I think about it, there is no sense in his death. I did not want him to die for me! I wanted him to live and be my horse!"

He turns from me and walks away, his head down, his feet kicking at the grass. Elladan makes to follow him but for once his brother disagrees.

"He still needs time. He has barely yet begun to realise what has happened, I think. I will follow a little way behind and make sure none comes near him for a while. If he tires, I will bring him home."

His brother and I agree, and we walk back to the house, talking of other times, happy ones and sad ones, while we wait for a child's grief to run its course.

As I wait now, in the last of the twilight, I wish I had brought him home myself for neither he nor Elrohir have yet returned. Word would have been brought if anything untoward had happened to either of them, yet I am uneasy and cannot eat until they are here. The last sounds of day slip away and still they are not come home. Where are my sons?

The answer comes in the form of a message, brought just as I was preparing to go and search. It comes by word of mouth, for Elrohir had nothing with him for writing, and it is hasty. The messenger says Elrohir ran to the stable, grabbed two blankets and a knife that was lying on the harness bench and told him this: send no word till sundown. Estel and I are going adventuring. We will return in two days. I could not stop him but he has allowed me to go with him. Bruinen.

I hear him shout it in my mind, as the story is told to me. Boat. The last word he said as he ran down the hill. Boat. I gather my robes and run to the river but it rushes swiftly away, and on its surface are no boats. I find a small, dead fire, and more sign, where Elrohir has sought to reassure me that all will be well, with hastily scratched letters in the earth.

But my mind is full of questions and worries, and I watch the water slide away from me until Elladan stands beside me, then leads me home.

tbc

Once again, thanks so much for the feedback. I am hoping to continue the story soon, with Elrohir taking up the narrative.