Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.
"Did you not think you might be thrown from your pony's back?" I ask, as I take Estel by the hand and lead him quickly back to the house. Elladan accompanies us while Elrohir goes to find the pony.
There is nothing Estel can say. He is unhurt; at least, he is no more hurt than he was before. But he is bedraggled and wet, his clothes muddy and the sling holding his arm steady is a variety of browns and greens. A tree branch, he told me when he walked back to the stable. It sort of made me lose my balance, he said.
"Did you not consider the pony might be hurt or lost? And your brothers went to such trouble to get it for you."
He sniffs, and rubs his nose with his sleeve but still doesn't say anything. We reach the door and I begin to remove his boots and his jacket. He certainly dressed himself, and rather quickly. He has his nightshirt on under the coat.
"Elladan: hot water," I say, and he nods, grim-faced. It is the knowledge that he has worried us all and disappointed his brothers that is making Estel sniff again but he is not going to give in to tears. Elladan walks away without even looking at Estel, though a glance through the hair which hangs over his face tells me Estel would dearly like to receive a word or two from his brother.
When he can walk through the house without dripping water or mud everywhere, I guide him back to his room with a hand in his back. Not that he shows signs of bolting. It is just that he knows that when he is clean, and warm, and dry, he will have to look over his actions with me. I have only had to do that once or twice with him before, when he was old enough to begin to see that this was worse punishment than being sent to bed, or confined to his room. He so rarely needs punishment. Guidance has been enough. This time, I am afraid I have over-indulged him. He must learn that what he did was wrong.
It takes us more than an hour to get him clean and check him again thoroughly. In all that time we hardly speak. Elladan has brought him warm milk and a biscuit and he eats and drinks slowly, sitting at the table by the window. He is wrapped in a large blanket which seems to be engulfing him, though in truth it is Estel sitting more and more hunched up.
When he has finished, I dry his hair and comb it out. Now we must talk, for a little while. I take the seat opposite him while his brother sits in the armchair by the fire.
"I'm sorry, Papa," he says. He looks down at the plate and plays with the biscuit crumbs there.
"That is to be expected, Estel. But it is not enough. This time, it is not enough."
He drops his head. "I'll never do it again." He is very quiet. But he has not yet found the right words. I cannot let this be enough punishment.
"Tell me about your dreams, child," I say, and he looks up sharply, puzzlement in every feature.
"My dreams? Aren't you going to send me to bed now?"
"Not yet. Your dreams, Estel. Your visions. The things you see that others do not."
He looks a little pale, paler than he did before. I must not press him too hard, but he must go through this fire now. This moment must be one he never forgets.
"I don't see things as much as I used to," he offers. He is trying to avoid the issue but I cannot quite see why yet.
"You are growing out of them, Estel – or your ability is becoming something else, that is all. Tell me, child. Then we will talk about what you did this morning."
He sighs. He knows I will not give up. "I see – I see something, something big and strong and it's got a lot of – it's – it can do magic, I think. It scares me."
I do not try to interpret his vision yet, I only encourage him with a nod. Elladan leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He narrows his eyes. Perhaps he is trying to see what Estel is describing.
Estel takes a deep breath. His distress comes a little more to the surface. "I know I have to do something to this bad thing. I feel it sometimes, that it is looking at me and I have to hide from it. But sometimes I can't hide. Not anywhere. Papa, that's all I remember." Now he can look at me, for he is no longer avoiding the truth.
"That is very good, Estel. But that is not all." I keep as calm as I can, knowing that we are near the heart of it.
"No," he concedes. "There is something else. One other thing. Other things happen but I don't know what they are. Honestly, Papa, I don't know everything, really I don't." He is looking a little desperate now but it will only be a few more moments.
"Tell us, Estel. What is this one other thing?"
He pauses and I wonder if he will speak. When he does, his voice is stronger than I had expected it to be. "I am standing high up. A long long way up. It is cold and there is a strong wind. I think I am the only person in the whole world who has ever been here. Down below, there are lots and lots of people, moving around, so small. There is – there is a strong light coming from somewhere." He is now more confident in his words as he becomes lost in what he can see. "The rocks are white around me. But something from far away can see me standing there, and I think I am grown up and I feel strong but I feel lonely, too. Then – then I don't see any more."
He puts his good hand down flat on the table and examines the back of it. He has come to a full stop. It is entirely possible that he knows no more, or can remember no more. I can make sense of some of what he says, if his vision comes from the past or even the future of his line. Now I must tell him how important it is for him to be safe, without revealing his true future to him.
"And do you think it is important that you face this evil thing when you are grown up?"
I am aware that Elladan is looking at me, knowing well enough the purpose of the question. I wonder if Estel can grasp its purpose too. It is a lot to ask a boy of nine.
He goes very quiet and his brow furrows in thought. We wait for him to know what to say.
"If it is true," he says quietly, "if what I saw is true, and I have to stand on that place and fight this thing, then I must be strong as soon as I can, and be brave and I must know how to do things."
It is not quite the answer I had thought of myself. He is not being sly, not seeking to excuse his actions, but in a way he is saying to me that he is grabbing at chances to be who he must be. It is a critical moment and I must try again to get him back on the path I have chosen for him. I must be careful to guide him, not to attempt to force him, for he will quickly move away from me if I do.
"Yes, and you will learn and be strong, and you will know many things soon enough. But you must stay within certain bounds. You cannot – I cannot protect you always. If you had fallen from your horse and broken your neck, then you would not have had the chance to become strong and brave, and to stand in a high place to see what you saw."
"Yes, Papa," he says, though he is still undecided.
It is enough. I have at least made him see his actions from a second point of view and that will have to be all for the moment. Now I must give him his punishment, for he will see it as that, though all I do is in care of him.
"Now, Estel. I am your doctor as well as your father, and I will be obeyed. For two days you will stay in bed."
His jaw drops. He has not considered I might say this. I press on before he can protest. Elladan is smiling now, for he knows how close Estel is to giving voice to his feelings about my decree. "You may read, and do your studies, and you may talk to Halbarad or to me or to your brothers. But you will stay in bed until I am sure your fever is gone." I reach across the table and feel his brow. Yes, he is a little feverish still, and his jaunt will have done him no good.
"Papa!" he says. "Two whole days?"
"On the third day, if your fever is gone, you may rise in the afternoon for a short while. Next week, presuming Elrohir has caught your pony again, you may begin to groom him and clean out his stall and get to know him better. The week after that …" I can see him working on the number of days all these weeks involve, "…it is possible that I will allow you to ride him on the lunge. Or perhaps ride him out, so long as Elladan, Elrohir or myself are with you and keep you on a lead rein."
I almost feel sorry for him now. If he had not earned his punishment, I would comfort his evident distress at my plan for his future. Well, he must learn to endure, and he will value this lesson in patience.
"Now, to bed, and if you do not feel sleepy I will read to you."
He stands and drags the blanket with him to his bed. His body language is revealing but I will brook no complaint, no pleading and he knows that well enough.
Elladan at last takes part in the conversation, just as Estel climbs onto the bed and settles himself down.
"I will go and see if the new pony is found yet, brother," he says. "Tomorrow, we will think on a new name for him. We will see to him well until you are ready to take on his care."
Estel nods, saying nothing, though I catch a glimpse of a smile. He loves to name things. Already he will be thinking over what it might be.
Elladan leaves and I go to stand by Estel's bed. "You are tired. I will leave you to sleep."
His eyelids flutter closed and he resettles himself on his side, his hand close to his mouth, his knees drawn up. His breaths even out and a sigh of relief escapes me. We have a short respite now at least. I have given a challenge to Estel, to obey my edict against all his natural instincts to be up and about. But somehow, I think it will be something of a challenge to us too.
It is for his own good. The boundaries must be set closer to home. He will test those boundaries over and over again, but at least we will be on hand to help him.
Before leaving the house I suggest to Halbarad that he goes to Estel's rooms and at least sit with him and warn me if he tries to do anything foolish. Then I walk down to the stables, where Elrohir is carefully currying a skittish pony. Elladan helps by speaking to the pony, helping it to become accustomed to its new home.
"He did not run far, then," I observe.
"He knows where his master lives," Elladan says, rubbing the pony's nose. "I believe he is sorry he brushed Estel from his back. He was returning here when Elrohir caught up with him."
"He was," his brother confirms. "They will be inseparable soon. Now, father, we must talk about our brief time in the wild. There is much to say. We will need to gather in conference all those concerned."
So, for an hour, we speak and sift information and plan, returning to the house and to my study to look at maps and papers. Then I go to check on Estel.
He is still sleeping peacefully. Halbarad sits in the chair by the fire, reading, and he looks up as I enter. We smile but exchange no words.
He is in safe hands, for now, and in my heart I am glad for it. But that it is a temporary respite, I am all too aware. And the stir that there will be in the household in the next days will do nothing to help him keep to his bed.
We are going to need all our skill to keep him where I deem he must stay, in bed, recovering, safe. For two whole days. I wonder at my own folly, making it so long.