Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.
(Thanks again for the sweet and funny comments – this little boy is leading me on a fair old adventure, and I bless him for it! Thanks for taking the time and trouble to make them all such fun to read. I love reading those from people who have been kind enough to keep up with this epic, and whose support I have needed very much – but welcome also to new posters – thanks for being brave enough to tell me what you think!
As a special favour, if you know of any resources I could consult about Ranger names, I'd be most grateful to read them. I know of some resources but I do want to do my research if it's possible. Thanks in advance if you can help out!)
If I could have stopped Father, I would have done. But all I can do is stand close by and hope.
Estel stares down for a long moment. I had judged it a jump of twenty feet. I do not now know if that was a true judgement. It does not matter. Father's last encouragement works and Estel jumps, from an unsteady rock, out into the air. He falls, arms and legs drawn in, his attention fixed on Father, and then he is in Father's arms, and they are both falling, and I reach forward to steady them if I possibly can.
They land in the water, Father underneath Estel, and I catch and try to hold my brother as he spills from Father's arms and rolls into the water. I struggle to keep my feet but I am off-balance now and have to brace myself on the slippery rocks at the bottom of the pool.
As soon as I can stand, I reach out for Estel, who lies face-down in the water. He should not be moved, says a voice in my head, yet he will drown if I do not drag him clear of the water, so I turn him as gently as I can. He comes to himself suddenly, spluttering and coughing and crying, and tries to stand.
"Estel! Stay quiet! You will slip!" I shout and he looks at me. Then he sees Father, lying on his side, unmoving.
"Papa!" he said, as soon as he saw him. "Papa!" And he crawls through the water to him. "Wake up!" He is shaking Father by the shoulder then he glances at me, terror on his face.
I go to my brother and pull him back into my arms. He is ice cold.
To my huge relief, Father begins to stir, then haul himself up. As soon as he is steady on his feet he reaches out for Estel, who flings himself into his arms. I see Father flinch, but he allows Estel to cling to him and tries to soothe the boy.
"I am well, child. Go – go to your brother. Get to the bank." Father pushes Estel away and I reach for my brother's hand. He grasps mine and we struggle to the water's edge. I help him to climb back the way we came and am heartened that there seems to be nothing wrong with his movement as he uses hands and legs to steady himself over the steep, mossy rocks.
Father follows, less sure-footed, and I know he is hurt somehow, but I must not alarm my brother. I allow myself one glance but Father shakes his head and I say nothing to him.
Elladan is ready and wraps Estel in a cloak as soon as the boy approaches the fire.
"Do you hurt, Estel?" he says quietly, helping the boy out of his boots.
Estel shakes his head but it is possible his body is too numb with cold for him to know. Elladan understands this and starts to check him over, while the boy stands passive and quiet. I wish he were talking, as he usually talks. This quiet is not natural.
Elladan settles the boy with a warm drink and the cloak tight around him before he comes to speak to me.
"He is well enough, bruised down his side somewhat, a cut to his foot, but he is remarkably well. He cannot have been long in the water. Father – how are you?"
"Old," my father says ruefully, rubbing at his right forearm. "Sore. But I am not injured."
Estel looks up as Father comes to sit next to him.
"Papa – did I hurt you? I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to do any of it!" The boy's words return to him all at once but Father takes his hand and calms him.
"There is nothing wrong, child. Come, sit closer to the fire now. Drink – we must warm you inside. You look like a skinned rabbit. We need to put more meat on those bones!"
Father's little joke breaks something in the boy and he crawls into Father's arms, disappearing almost as he is encircled and covered in a blanket Elladan has brought. But his bright eyes are watching us and he is restless, forcing Father to hold him more tightly as he moves.
"Child – sit still. Now, what happened?"
Estel bites his lip. Elladan makes up the fire and goes to check on the horses but I cannot leave my father and Estel to talk. I do not know why but I must know Estel's reasoning. There is something in me that is angry with my brother, and I need to find forgiveness in myself for causing us such worry. I go to unpack some food and begin to prepare it while they talk but Father is having difficulty unlocking what Estel is trying to tell him.
"I got stuck," Estel was saying. "I couldn't go back and I couldn't go forward and the rock I stood on was wobbly. I was there ages, Papa. I couldn't think what to do."
"I understand that, Estel. I think we were lucky to find you when we did. But I do not understand what happened before. Why were you out in the waterfall?"
"The men, Papa! The bad men! I was trying to get away from them and I had to go this way because they were afraid of the water or something, anyway, they just left me there. They tried to catch Spider but he wouldn't let them."
"They chased you out into the waterfall and you couldn't get back?" I can't resist the comment but Father isn't pleased when Estel begins to sob.
"I didn't want to do it! There were too many of them and they were too big! And I forgot my bow."
I kneel in front of him and take his hand, immediately contrite. "No – Estel – I mean, they knew you were out in the waterfall and they left you there?"
Estel gulps back his sobs. "Oh. I think they knew I was there. I think so. One of them looked in my direction for a minute and then he laughed about something, so I don't know if he saw me."
Father turns the questions away from the terrible minutes he must have endured before we arrived.
"Did you bring a change of clothes with you?" he asks. "Your clothes won't be dry for hours and we don't want you scaring any passing maidens, now do we?"
Estel nods. "I brought a clean shirt and stuff, and some food. I'm only silly sometimes, Papa," he says, his emotions barely in check.
His Papa smiles gently at him. "I know, Estel. Elrohir – could you fetch his clothes? We need to be getting home as soon as your brother's had something to eat."
I go to fetch the bag I saw tied to Spider's saddle, thinking that all will be well now, but as I return, Estel is arguing with Father, quite forcefully.
"I don't want to go home, Papa! I don't know why. Can't we all go and live with Halbarad?"
It is such an extraordinary statement that I wait with bated breath for my father's reply.
"No, Estel. We cannot go and live with Halbarad."
I study Estel's face. He surely cannot believe Father would say yes. There is something troubling this boy very much, and we will have to find out what it is as soon as we can.
"What is wrong with home, Estel?" my father asks. "Come, child, you can tell me."
"I don't know," Estel says mournfully. "Everything seems to go wrong there."
I hand Estel his clothes and he begins to get dressed, standing up to pull on his leggings then sitting cross-legged opposite Father.
"I've been thinking and thinking," he says. "Sometimes I think I nearly have the answer but then it's gone again. But I don't like these things I see in my head and I am not sure that's home's fault, really, it's just, well, it's just that I see things when I am in my room and not when I'm out here. Not too much, anyway."
Elladan returns and sits down beside Estel. I complete our group, keeping quiet but wishing Estel had the words to tell us what is wrong.
"Papa. Did you ever – did you ever get to make a really really big decision, I mean a really big one. And then wish you didn't have to make it?"
"Many times, Estel. Many times."
"I feel as though every day now, I have to make a big decision. I have to decide who I am or what I want or who to be friends with. Or what to draw or write. Well, that's all right, except I've been drawing some strange things and I don't know why I have been doing it."
"Then we must help you," Father says. "But you cannot run away again."
There it is. The words I have been waiting for Father to say.
Estel says nothing. He pulls his arms tight around himself and looks unhappy. Father has taken the decision for him and he doesn't like that either.
"You must understand, Estel, this is not something you can decide for yourself. It is not something you will promise. It is something you will do. I think we will need to talk about this later but now, you will say that you understand me, you will eat the food Elladan has prepared for you then we will go back to Imladris. Do you understand, Estel?"
We wait only a moment for Estel to nod but Father is not satisfied.
"You will tell me this one thing, Estel. You will say it in front of your brothers and you will think about what it is you have said."
He frowns, his grey eyes narrowing. Then he stands, taking us all by surprise.
"Papa. I was wrong to run away, both times I was wrong. I am not going to do it again." He nodded to himself. "I need to talk to you but I'm hungry now."
Father smiles. "We will talk as much as you need to talk. Now, let me see you do justice to your brother's cooking."
Elladan looks up suddenly, and watches a flock of birds skimming between the trees. He looks at Father, but he is occupied in wringing out his clothes so he walks away, and I follow. We attend to the horses together and listen to the birds singing in our sunlit glade, with the wash of the waterfall a constant background noise. I look back, and Estel has finished his food and is now helping Father brush the mud off the back of his coat. They are talking easily to one another, although I suspect the subject of running away has not come up again.
But my brother and I, we are still listening to the birds, and to a sudden alarm call from further down the hill.
"What – or who?" says Elladan quietly.
"The men. Perhaps they have found friends and with them, courage?"
"You have your bow. I have a sword. Father has his bow. But we have Estel with us. Father could take him home. We could lead them away, or go to meet them."
"I do not like to split our forces, brother. We could hide Estel and fight."
"Perhaps they do not intend to fight. Perhaps they are simply returning the way they came."
I shrug. Father has noticed our debate and comes to join us, trailed by Estel, who has found an interesting stick and is stabbing at the air with it.
"I thought perhaps Estel might like to go to the top of the hill, since we have come this far. There is a fine view from there," I say, hoping Father will pick up my hint.
Estel stops playing with his stick and looks at me. "Why would I want to do that, Elrohir? I've already been to the top once."
The birds are falling silent. It is time we made a decision. Yet Father is following Estel's statement through to its logical conclusion.
"You have been to the top? Then – then you were coming back down when you came across these men?"
"Yes, Papa. I said, I was silly to run away and I was coming home. Didn't I say that? I wanted to talk to you properly about you and Elladan and Elrohir coming to live with me and Halbarad. I couldn't think of anything else to do."
My father, my venerable, wise, stern father is weeping. He holds his hands out to a puzzled Estel, who goes to him slowly.
"What have I done wrong now, Papa?" he asks, distress in his voice. "Don't cry, Papa!"
But time for Father to speak has gone. The woods are full of the tramping of heavy feet, and the first of the men we spoke to early this morning stands a hundred yards away down the track.
"Well, Master Elrond," he calls, stepping closer. "Those are fine horses you have. Perhaps you would like to pay them as tribute to us, for passing along our road?"
I watch as my father assesses the odds. The band is not so big as it might be, twelve now instead of five, and they are spread wide. They have short bows and swords, and they have knives but we have the high ground.
"Are you ready to fight?" Father asks. We nod, and Estel does too. "Estel, you must ride Spider up the hill, away from this place," Father says, though I think the chance of Estel obeying this order is small.
It is, in any case, too late. Two men stand behind us on the path. We must fight, we must all fight, and Estel's escapade may prove the last chance he ever has to run away.