Hello all.

I have not published fic here since I was 14 years old, and a lot has changed. But I decided since it was also my first time writing lotr fic since then, I would post it here for the sake of 13 year old me. I hope you enjoy! It should be much better than what I've posted here before lol

T.A 2942, Imladris

Elrond looked up at a light knock on his study door, putting aside the missive he had been reading. He stood, walking over and opening the door, surprised to see Estel's tutor, Gilwen, standing on the other side.

"Pardon me my lord. I wish to speak with you if you have a moment," she said, dipping her head slightly.

Elrond nodded, "Of course, please, come in."

He stepped aside, allowing her to slip past him into the room. He gestured to the chair that sat in front of his desk, askew from when Elladan had used it as a roost earlier that day. She perched at the very edge of it, her feet tucked carefully under her, and her hands folded in her lap.

Eldrond replaced himself behind the desk, gesturing to the teapot in offering. Gilwen shook her head mutely, dark braids swaying with the unnecessary force of the movement.

"No need to be nervous, Gilwen," Elrond assured her, and watched as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax back into the chair, "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

"It is Estel, My Lord. I am worried about him."

Elrond's eyebrows rose. In all the eight years Estel had been under his care, he had never had any difficulty with his study. He was as sharp as a thistle, and often engaged in word games with the house staff, driving Erestor near to madness.

"Is he struggling in his studies? That is most unlike him."

Gilwen shook her head hurriedly, "Oh, no My Lord, Estel is an excellent student, it is not that which worries me."

Elrond sat back in his chair, furrowing his brows, "What is it then, child?"

She hesitated, fiddling with the hems of her sleeves, "He seems withdrawn, and distracted. I believe the other children have begun to draw away from him. Just last afternoon, he attempted to engage young Baranir and his friends in a game and was turned away."

Elrond sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples. He had feared this eventuality. Children as young as Estel had been when he first arrived in Imladris gave little thought to each other's differences. But, elflings aged much slower than men, and already, Estel's old playmates had grown too young for him.

The boy was beginning to notice his difference to those around him, and it pained Elrond to see one of his children suffer.

"Thank you for telling me Gilwen," he said eventually, "you are very good to him."

Gilwen blinked, bobbing her head slightly, "Of course, My Lord. I care for Estel greatly, and I would only like to see him happy."

"Of course. I will speak to him as soon as I am able."

Gilwen smiled, dipping her head lower as she stood. "Then, if it is amenable, My Lord, I wish to retire for the night."

Elrond nodded his dismissal. "Of course, child. Sleep well."

Gilwen slipped out of the study and Elrond slumped back in his chair, staring at the abandoned missive on his desk.

"Ah, Celebrain, I wish you were here," he sighed, tipping his head up to the ceiling, "You would have known what to say to him."

F.A, some years past the third kinslaying

"What would you have me do!" Maglor's voice echoed from behind the heavy wooden door, and Elrond flinched, clutching at the stone door frame, "They do not speak to me, and I cannot blame them." His voice lowered as he spoke, taking on a pained air, "It is no fault but our own, Maitimo."

Elrond could not hear the elder Fëanorion's reply, but soon the sound of harried footsteps on stone echoed from beyond the door, and Elrond hurried to hide himself behind a hallway pillar. The door burst open moments later, revealing a distressed Maglor. His loose hair flying wildly around him as he stalked down the hallway in the opposite direction of where Elrond was hidden.

Elrond waited for a moment before stepping out from behind the pillar, only to immediately regret his choice, as it brought him face to face with Maedhros, who had just emerged into the hallway. They stared at each other for a long moment before Maedhros spoke.

"He tries, and yet you reject him."

Elrond clenched his teeth, tilting his chin up defiantly, "You killed my Adar, and my Naneth."

Maedhros' brows furrowed, and he looked almost pained for a moment, his scarred face pinching.

"Yes."

He regarded Elrond for a moment more, before he turned, following his brother down the hallway. Elrond watched him go, his hair tumbling red as blood down his back.

The hallway was empty in his absence, and the stone was cold against Elrond's bare feet. He took one last look back at where the brother's had disappeared before turning to make his way back to his and Elros' room.

T.A 2942, Imladris

Elrond took a seat next to Estel, setting down a pastry in front of him. Estel looked up from his breakfast of soft cheese over bread, his hand darting out quickly to snatch up the sweet.

"May I sit with you, henig?" Elrond asked, watching Estel's face carefully. The boy hesitated, but nodded anyway, watching Elrond out of the corner of his eye as he ate.

Elrond allowed him to finish before he rose once more, holding his hand out to the boy, "Come, take a walk with me."

Estel paused a moment more, before taking Elrond's hand and allowing himself to be led out of the kitchens and onto familiar garden paths.

"Something troubles you," Elrond said after a while.

Estel looked up at him, hurrying slightly to keep up with Elrond's larger strides. "No, ada, I am well."

Elrond hummed, stopping near a tree to admire its blossoms, newly opened to the spring, "I spoke to Gilwen last night, Estel. She is worried about you."

"She need not be, I am well." Estel said, tucking his hands under his armpits and refusing to meet Elrond's eyes.

For only being eleven years of age, Estel was remarkably well spoken, it testified to both his intelligence, and his troubles.

"She has told me that you are not getting along with the other children, or rather, they are not getting along with you," Elrond pushed.

Estel only set his stance more firmly, and did not reply.

"If they are bothering you, Estel, I can speak to them."

Estel looked up quickly at that, eyes wide, "Do not!"

Elrond's eyebrows raised, "Aye, I will not if you do not wish it Estel, it was merely a thought."

Estel shook his head, "That would only make things worse, ada! Do you understand nothing?"

His incredulity startled Elrond, and he laughed, resting a hand on his son's shoulder, "Nay, maybe I do not, it has been many thousands of years since I was a child. I did not wish to offend."

Estel scoffed, turning his face forward again, "That is not why you do not understand," he tilted his head downward, "May I go? My lessons will begin soon."

Elrond frowned but nodded his acceptance, "Yes, of course, henig, do not keep Gilwen waiting."

He watched as Estel hurried down the path toward the house, sinking down to sit on the edge of a nearby fountain. Estel troubled him more days than not. He loved the boy, but raising a human child in an elven realm was as hard as it ever was. Many elves distanced themselves from him, out of fear of the unknown, or simply the fear of attaching themselves to someone destined to die so early.

The children his age started to learn that he would outgrow them quickly, and began to avoid him. He spent much of his free time in the kitchens, or with Elladan and Elrohir when they were home.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. He was getting a headache.

"What ails you, my friend?"

Elrond looked up at the familiar voice, smiling as Glorfindel took a seat next to him on the edge of the fountain.

"It is Estel. He is troubled. He is beginning to feel his difference very deeply, I fear. He believes I do not understand his troubles, and I am sure he is right."

Glorfindel hummed, "Perhaps. But perhaps not."

Elrond huffed fondly, "Speak clearly or not at all, Glorfindel."

"Aye," Glorfindel laughed, "I only mean that maybe you understand more than you believe. You know what it is to be raised in a place unfamiliar to you, by hands that do not belong to your father."

Elrond considered for a moment, "Perhaps. But what do I know of being a mannish child in Imladris?"

"I do not think," Glorfindel began, "That it is as different as you believe. Our experiences connect us all, Mellon nin. They can connect you and Estel as much as any others."

Elrond chuckled, "You are very wise, Glorfindel. I believe perhaps you are right. I will try again."

Glorfindel smiled, slapping Elrond on the back as he stood, "Good."

F.A, some years past the third kinslaying

Elrond tapped his fork against the rim of his plate, watching The elves across from him from under his eyebrows. Maglor kept trying to engage them all in conversation. Elrond refused to respond, and Elros only responded with a short yes or no. Maedhros sometimes gave a reluctant grunt in response to a direct question, but was otherwise silent.

Elrond could tell that Maglor was growing increasingly dejected, his voice losing the lighthearted edge that it had at the beginning of the meal. To his credit, Elrond could tell he really was trying. He was usually a mellow, almost somber person, and his attempts at playing family were slightly jarring and out of place on him.

"Ah, this is not working is it?" Maglor said, sighing and ducking his head, "I apologize, please enjoy your meals."

He was silent after that. Elrond was grateful for the respite, despite the strange worming guilt deep in his stomach. He shoved it down with his next bite of food.

After a while, Maglor stood, retreating from the room, and presumably back to his chambers. Elrond found himself wishing that he would come back, if only to avoid being in the same room as Maedhros with only his brother as a barrier. Elros tended to not be a very good barrier.

"The food is well with you?"

Elrond looked up incredulously as Maedhros spoke. He stared for a moment before going back to his plate, hurriedly trying to scrape the remains of his meal into his mouth so that he could leave.

"Ah," Maedhros scoffed, "I only speak for my brother. He wishes to know you better, but he is clearly failing."

Elrond paused in his quest to clear his plate, looking over and making eye contact with his twin, who looked just as confused as he did. Maedhros didn't let up at their silence.

"Come now," he said with an air of exasperation,"Surely you must understand what it is to care for a brother."

Elrond glared. He held eye contact across the table for a few moments before he stood, gesturing for Elros to follow. His twin gave him a long look, but eventually acquiesced, nodding to Maedhros on his way out the door.

"You need not be so cold, Elrond," Elros said once they were out of earshot.

"They killed our parents," Elrond snapped, "How could I be anything else? Perhaps they will kill you next. I would not know."

Elros pursed his lips, walking for a moment in silence before responding, "I think if they wished that, they would have left us in the cave."

Elrond blew out a breath of air, shoving his hands into his pockets. He did not enjoy it when his brother was right.

"All I mean," Elros said, "Is that we are here, and we are alive, and we gain nothing from pushing away the kindness he offers. At least not fully."

Elrond sighed again, At the very least, he would try, if his brother wished it.

T.A 2942, Imladris

Elrond watched from a balcony as Estel sat beneath a tree in the courtyard, a rather large and heavy book laid across his lap. It was flipped open to somewhere near the middle, and Estel was tracing his fingers carefully along the page.

He had been avoiding Elrond for the last few days, making excuses or disappearing around corners before Elrond got a chance to speak with him. He meant to ask his sons to try and approach him, but they had still not returned from their hunt. It was common for them to become lost in their anger for too long, blinded to the passing of the days. Elrond worried for them often. Sons caused altogether too much worry for those as old as he.

"He troubles you as well, My Lord?" A voice said behind him.

Elrond turned, smiling as Gilraen joined him at the railing, "Good morning, My Lady."

Gilraen nodded her head in acknowledgment, "I heard that you spoke to him a few days ago, My Lord, and that it did not go as well as you had hoped."

"Ah, and who told you that?"

Gilraen gave a small smile, "Glorfindel, My Lord."

"Indeed," Elrond sighed, "It is true, I do worry about him more and more these days. I fear he will come to hate it here."

Down in the courtyard, Estel flipped a large stack of pages, the thudding sound echoing off the stone of the house. If Elrond was being honest, it was the most content he had seen the child in days. He seemed enraptured by the book, which looking closer, Elrond could see was a book of old tales.

Gilraen followed his gaze, smiling fondly down at her son, "He has been enamored with the story of Tinúviel as of late, and he is overjoyed at each new tree that flowers," She looked back up at Elrond, "I do not think he could ever come to hate it here. This is his home, he only struggles the same as any other child."

"Ah, I hope you are right, My Lady," Elrond sighed.

"I usually am, My Lord. He only needs the affection of those who would give it. He has many who love him here, he merely forgets."

Gilraen gave him a small curtsy after that, as was human custom, before taking her leave. She was a very wise woman, and Elrond knew that she knew her son better than any other, yet he still worried after the boy, even with her reassurances.

He couldn't help but wish once again, that his wife was still east of the sea. She always knew how to put his mind at rest.

Another dull thud sounded from down below, and Elrond looked to see Estel standing, book now tucked under his arm. He continued to watch as the boy made his way back down the garden path and disappeared under the eaves of the house.

Perhaps it would be better if he approached this problem in a different manner. If Estel only needed his love, that was something he could easily provide.

F.A, some years past the third kinslaying

"Good, child! Place your hands like so, and you will surely have it!"

Elrond looked up from his book to glare across the room at his brother and his guardian. Elros sat in Maglor's lap, a lyre in hand, as Maglor carefully and patiently taught him to pluck out an old Noldorin tune. If Elrond had to guess, he would say it was probably old enough to have been played in the light of the trees. He would not guess though, because he had decided that it did not interest him.

Elrond turned back to his book as Elros' shaky notes again filled the air. It was a rather boring book, but it was convenient enough for trying to drown out the other occupants of the room. Elros hit a wrong note and Elrond cringed at the dissonance. This had been going on for at least four hours at that point, and Elrond was tired of it. Tired of watching his brother get along with someone he was trying so hard to hate. Tired of the obnoxious sound of badly played music. And tired of his inability to hate Maglor as much as he wanted to.

Elros again plucked a wrong note, and Elrond stood, snapping his book closed and stalking toward the slightly open door. He shoved it open and it banged against the opposite wall.

"Ah, please do not do that."

Elrond turned just enough to glare at Maglor, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach at the sight of his twin's stricken face. It was not his fault that Elros insisted on being too soft for his own good.

He turned back after a moment, storming out into the hallway, ignoring the elf who stepped out of his way with a cry of surprise, barely keeping his grip on the basket of laundry he was carrying.

The house was large enough that it took Elrond longer than he liked to find a door. Once he reached one, he shoved it open much like the last, ignoring its thudding against the wall. He stumbled down the steps, sighing at the feel of grass on his feet and sun on his face.

It was late afternoon and the sun cast the earth in oranges and reds, making him squint against its brightness. The path down to the lake was familiar enough, though, that he found it with ease, stumbling in his haste to reach it.

He hadn't bothered to take shoes in his flight. He winced as the rough dirt path tore at his feet, but refused to turn back toward the house to get his boots. He did not wish to return, and he may not, if not for Elros.

He thought he could survive on his own. He knew how to start a fire, and how to cook bread over the coals. He did not know where he would find the ingredients needed, but he was sure he could make due.

After several long minutes, the lake came into view, and Elrond ran the last several feet to the shore, splashing into the shallows and letting the cool water sooth his burning feet.

The setting sun lit the water like fire, and fish were jumping on its surface, causing ripples to spread across it. He stood there for a long while until the sun set fully behind the horizon. The dark did not bother him, he could see just as well, and the sound of the crickets in the grass was soothing. Eventually he left the water and dropped down on a large flat rock by the shore, crossing his legs beneath him.

He did not notice the other presence until he spoke.

"May I sit?"

Elrond looked up to see Maglor standing a few feet away, a pair of children's boots in hand. He frowned but did not say anything to reject him, so Maglor sat, looking out over the dark lake.

"It is beautiful tonight," he said. Elrond did not reply.

Maglor sighed, "I know that you have no great love for me, and I cannot blame you. I have done many horrible things, and hurt many people. You, not the least of them." He paused, standing from the rock and bending to pick through the pebbles laying on the shore. "I do not ask you to love me. But if you would allow, I would like to love you."

Elrond stared, watching as Maglor retrieved a small flat rock and tossed it up into the air. He caught it again in his palm with a soft smack.

"I will not ask you to come back to the house with me if you do not wish it," Maglor said at Elrond's continued silence, "But, as long as we are here, have you ever been taught to skip stones?"

Elrond watched for a moment more before responding, "I have not."

Maglor smiled, "Good. Come, I will teach you."

Elrond stood from the rock, joining Maglor on the shore, but standing a short distance away.

"What exactly is skipping stones?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It is a game. My brothers and I used to play often when we were young. If you throw it correctly, you can get a stone to bounce on the surface of the water, look."

Maglor flicked the stone he was holding up into his fingertips and crouched at the water's edge. He brought his arm back and cast the rock out flat across the lake. Elrond watched in awe as it skimmed the surface, hitting the water only to bounce back and continue on.

Maglor looked back at him once it finally sank, but only after hitting the water five times, "You see," he said, "the game is to try and get your stone to skip more times than your brother's does."

Elrond looked once more across the lake, wide eyed with wonder, "Teach me."

Maglor laughed, beckoning him over. Elrond went willingly, crouching near him where the water lapped at his feet.

"The key is to find a small, flat stone," he said, picking one from the ground near Elrond's feet. He held it out and Elrond took it, turning it over in his palm.

"Why must it be flat?" Elrond asked.

"So that it will catch the water. It is the same as if you strike the surface with your palm rather than your fist."

Elrond nodded his understanding, "How must I throw?"

"Like this," Maglor picked up a stone of his own, once again holding it in his fingertips and drawing his arm back. "You want to cast it flat, but still with enough force so that it may travel. The flat side of the stone must hit the water first. Do you understand?"

Elrond nodded, copying his stance and drawing his arm back. He flicked it forward and released the stone, watching as it skipped once, then twice, before sinking into the dark water. He huffed in frustration at the poor throw, but Maglor laughed, reaching out to jostle his shoulder.

"That was very well done, child. We will make a master stone skipper out of you yet," He said.

Elrond smiled despite himself, already rooting around on the shore for another stone. It was long hours before they returned to the house.

T.A 2942, Imladris

Elrond found Estel in the library, only a few hours after his talk with Gilraen. He was perched on his toes, straining to slide a heavy tome back into place on the shelf.

Elrond crossed the room, reaching up to push the book into place. Estel looked up at him in surprise, before a look of mild panic flashed across his face.

"Ada, I did not think I would see you here," he said, ducking out from under Elrond's arm and settling to rock back and forth on his feet.

"I believe you did not," Elrond said with a soft smile, "I wish to apologize, Estel."

Estel blinked, "What for?"

"For our conversation a few days past, I should have spoken more carefully."

"No," Estel said hurriedly, "I should apologize. I should not have gotten angry with you."

Elrond crouched, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I would not have you bury your anger Estel. I am glad you were honest with me. I should not have assumed I understood what I can not."

Estel was silent for a moment and then smiled shakily at Elrond, "Thank you, adar."

Elrond smiled back, squeezing Estel's shoulder before standing, "Come, I wish to show you something."

Elrond led Estel through the hallways of the last homely house, and out into one of the courtyards. He did not stop in the gardens however, continuing out past the walls of Imladris and onto a forest path that wound out into the valley.

"Where are we going?" Estel asked curiously, reaching out to pull a blossom off of a nearby bush.

"I wish to teach you something that my adar taught me long ago," Elrond said, looking back to make sure Estel was still following, "I was much like you in my youth, henig. I was raised away from my home, by an adopted father. He did well by me, but for many years I did not like it there."

"But I love it here!" Estel protested, "It is my home."

Elrond smiled softly. "I know, Estel, and I am glad. I only meant, I know what it is like to feel alone in a place that is meant to be your home."

Estel was silent for a while after that, only yelping softly, once, as he stumbled over a protruding root.

It did not take them much longer to reach the pond, nestled in a copse of trees. It was beautiful that time of year, surrounded by flowering trees and plants, the clear blue sky reflected in its surface.

"Have you ever been taught to skip stones, Estel?"

Estel shook his head, "I do not know what you mean."

Elrond gestured him forward, tucking his robes out of the way as he crouched near the water, just as his father had done some thousands of years before."It is like a game," he said, "Where you cast stones to see how many times you can make them bounce before they sink."

Estel looked intrigued, tucking himself into Elrond's side. Elrond laughed, pushing him lightly back, "I will need some space to throw, child, if you wish to see."

Estel scooted a few feet back, watching him closely. Elrond chose his stone carefully, before sending it flying out over the water. It skipped seven times before it sank.

He looked back to see Estel staring at him with stars in his eyes. "Please teach me," he said.

Elrond laughed, "Yes Estel, that is my aim."

Estel blushed but again moved closer, allowing Elrond to reach around and guide his hand as he threw.

They managed to get to the point where Estel could get the rock to skip once or twice, before it grew late enough that Elrond insisted they return home, lest it grow too dark for mortal eyes.

Estel skipped ahead of him the entire journey back, laughing and turning under the trees. Elrond worried that he may trip, but rejoiced in his childlike glee, which he had not seen in many days.

At the entrance to the gardens, Glorfindel met them, stopping Elrond with a hand on his arm. "Elrond, your sons have returned," he said, a small smile on his face.

Elrond felt a weight disappear from his chest, and he grinned, clasping his friend's arm in thanks.

In front of them, Estel exclaimed in joy at the news, spinning to run back down the path. He hung himself off of Glorfindel's arm, causing him to stumble.

"Where are they? Please tell me, please, please, please please!"

"Ai," Glorfindel laughed, "They are most likely in the kitchens now, Estel. You may catch them if you hurry."

Elrond smiled fondly as the boy took off running towards the house. He tripped once on the path but stumbled back to his feet quickly, resuming his wild sprint up the stairs.

"It went well with him then?" Glorfindel asked.

Elrond nodded, "Yes. He only needed a reminder, I think."

"Of what?"

"That he is loved."

Translations:

Adar/Ada: Father/dad

Naneth: Mother

Henig: from 'Hen' which means child, and the informal 'ig' ending, which I am using as a diminutive here.

Mellon nin: my friend