2941

"Today is a special day, Estel," said Elladan. He had a knowing look, standing with hands on hips and gazing keenly at the boy. Gilraen took particular notice of this wily mood, rare as it was. Her son, however, looked up at the Elf-man unimpressed.

"I know that," he said.

Elladan replied sagely, "Ah, but it is especially special. Can you guess how so?"

"Well, it is my birthday. So-- that must not be all." Estel thought for a moment, touching his finger to his temple even though his mother had assured him it does not truly help one think. "Elladan, what then? The day will be over before I figure it out."

"No, for you are clever with riddles. But I will not leave you wondering." He turned up his hands, fingers spread. "You are now ten years of age, and not until ninety years have passed shall you earn a third digit."

Estel stood unflinching, then closed his eyes, frowned, and sighed with a shake of his head. "That is a lame jest." Gilraen's quick reprimand was lost amid Elladan's mock-outburst.

"What! That is as my own grandfather told me, and similarly when I reached my first century--"

"And it was lame even then," said Elrohir, strolling into the room. Elladan dismissed them both with a wave before turning to a window, though from her vantage Gilraen saw that he grinned.

Elrohir went on, "Father is coming now to see us off, and our horses wait prepared in the square. Estel, I've brought your gloves, but here, let me show you a nice trick. I shall set them on the furnace a moment ere we go, and your fingers will thank you for the warmth -- never forget them there, though, or no one will thank you for the smell!"

Gilraen watched their continuing exchange with gladness and sorrow, knowing her son would be as safe as he would be content with Elrond's sons. Without his mother. Estel had pleaded for such an excursion over many years, ever bade to settle for daylong rides. Now at last she trusted his skills at riding and woodcraft enough to permit a longer trip, and one on which she would not go along. Therefore his birthday gift from her: twelve days in the wilderness accompanied by Elladan and Elrohir.

"Well, just look at you." Elrohir had knelt before Estel, looking the boy over as he arched backwards. "Every year your head is at a different place! I should ask father if you are tall for your age."

"And father would know," said Estel. "He measured me just a while ago, all over! I thought it was for clothing, and shoes, and a hat too, but I've received none of those things since."

Gilraen remembered that day. She had been hard-pressed to keep from laughing at Elrond's cleverness in concealing his true purpose from Estel, who might have guessed what he was being fitted for, had Elrond not documented the length of each foot as well as the reach of both arms, and the circumference of his head along with the width of his shoulders.

Her son looked now at Elrohir as he had looked at her after Elrond departed with his partially irrelevant dimensions. "Was that not strange of him?"

"Hmm, yes, I cannot make any sense of that," Elrohir lied, poorly. "Brother, have you any insight to share?"

Elladan would not spoil the game, if he played differently. "I think you are all mad."

"Well there, you see? Maybe that explains it."

Of a sudden, Estel was all his age, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Oh, oh, oh, a plot! Tell me now, Elrohir, I must know, what is the long secret?"

"It is not for me to tell!" he laughed. "But I think you will know soon enough, perhaps even before we leave."

Gilraen unclenched her hands as the chair's armrests began to creak. Something about the way anyone said everything incited an urge to forbid this plan, and keep Estel at home. With his mother. She entertained thoughts of meddling already entertained and dismissed twice, thrice, before. If she asked Glorfindel to follow them, he may; or if she begged, Telmoth, though she would balk at such short notice. In any case, Ronduir would watch over them, if his post were nearby; unless Gilraen could get a message to him that he might outright spy. No, dismissed. Again.

When Elrond came, they left together for the courtyard. Gilraen noticed her son inching towards her, the brave face he donned unwavering. Soon his cold hand slipped into hers. "Will you be lonely?" he blurted once the horses came into view, packed as they were for the journey ahead.

"Of course!" She bent to kiss his head. "So do not stay gone overlong."

"Nana..." he stopped short as Elladan came up, presenting the warmed gloves. "Oh, I forgot after all. Elrohir--"

"Forgets his own more often than not. How else would he know they smell foul when cooked? Now run along, Master Elrond asks for you." He patted the boy's back, and bowed towards Gilraen. "We go with his blessings, lady," he said, and despite the unsaid, that with Elrond's sanction came some security, Gilraen still put her heart back in place with every swallow.

A joyous cry shattered the peace, followed by elvish laughter from unseen sources. Gilraen looked towards her son, just completing a happy dance before daring to handle the gift Elrond had revealed. It was a bow, far more opulent than what had been described to her as a mere idea presented with seeming innocence. She resolved to have more care next time the Halfelven seemed innocent.

Now he knelt, and Estel rested back against Elrond's support after receiving the bow gingerly. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he examined its shape and the runes writ upon it. "I will cherish it," he breathed.

"No." Elrond turned Estel around and closed the bow in his hands. "You must use it. Thus, it should become scuffed and worn, and it may well break or be replaced. But--"

"The gift, father." Estel walked forward and helped himself to a long embrace. "I will cherish the gift, not the thing -- I know the difference. Thank you." Soon he giggled to add, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

At that, Gilraen lost the fight for composure. This scene before her and the imminent parting stirred too many memories that she wished never to revisit. For her son's sake, she turned away to conceal a sob by embracing whoever stood closest, as if in farewell. Then for her own sake, she turned again and embraced whoever stood next closest, to conceal her mirth after that queer moment in Elladan's awkward embrace. She felt Elrohir shaking with silent laughter of his own, which helped her efforts to sober none at all.

Weapon at hand, Estel was all confidence. Accepting no help to get saddled --nor suffering to be parted from the bow-- he reined his horse around while the brethren mounted their steeds. "I shall return an accomplished bowman, a master hunter!" he said to Elrond, who generously conceded that by minding Elladan and Elrohir's tuition, it was possible. Gilraen wondered how long it would be until he noticed his lack of arrows, and how long after that until the brethren ceased teasing and revealed the quiver which was to be their gift to him.

With one last farewell, she watched her only son ride out of sight beside twain warriors, and carefully repressed the thought: What have I done? Stealing a glance sidelong revealed Elrond in his statue form. Odd that so many years later it would strike her how Estel --no, little Aragorn-- used to do just that with roads: stare and stare at no one there. Gilraen went inside alone.

***

By midday, their paths had crossed too closely, too many times, to ignore. Gilraen laughed mildly embarrassed to have been caught wandering aimlessly; Elrond might have been playing, for his own part. They approached each other to meet in the foyer.

"Well, I forgot your advice, lord, though I now see the wisdom in it," said Gilraen. Elrond had suggested that she do nothing for days before Estel departed, to ensure a busy schedule without time to worry until his return. Yet the nervousness started even before he left, so until then, she stayed restlessly productive, leaving little to do now but wait.

Elrond unfolded his hands to regard and seemed to shrug at their emptiness. "Would that I had heeded my own advice better. It is easier looking after another, I deem, than seeing to oneself."

"We ought to have put conditions upon each other, then, that we remain idle until his departure... or else sat with our hands tied together. For my part, though, I am not solely to blame! I tried to busy my hands by helping Estel with his packing, but he was so determined to do things himself."

Elrond nodded, saying, "Ah, and I had made a list, on it among other chores to reorder my library. But Estel happened across those plans, and thinking to spare me the trouble, toiled in my place secretly: 'since I helped you mess it', as he said."

Gilraen forced her smile away. "When he returns, we must sit him down and explain all he has put us through."

"Truly."

A noise outside attracted her attention for a moment, and the angled shadows reminded her of the hour. On a normal day, Elrond would be unseen from now until suppertime. Before she could excuse herself if he had business elsewhere, he said, "I had sought for you, in fact, hoping we might speak."

If Gilraen could think of any deed that she would not part from for Elrond's sake, walking in circles would not be it. He led the way to his study, where they settled on opposite sides of a table upon which sat a tea tray and an unusual absence of books.

Pouring their drinks, Elrond gestured about the room, bookshelves on each wall tidy and clean. "Estel was diligent."

"So I see." With a burned lip, Gilraen left the beverage to cool and sat back. Two cups in front of two chairs between hot cider already prepared and an utterly silent hallway beyond the door Elrond had closed behind them. The Lord of Rivendell had words to say. "What have you foreseen?"

He did not appear pained to drink before replying, "I would not expect to surprise you by saying that in these darkening days, it is the unseen we must mind foremost." She reached a finger to her own cup and recoiled from the heat while he drank again. "This, though, is all we need resolve at present. It is my advice that after Estel has returned he should begin a more rigorous schedule of combat training." His eyes met hers. "With weapons."

The extent of his training thus far went little beyond play or basic bodily study: horseback riding, woodcraft, wrestling, healing arts. All things to the delight of young boys, which made it easier, and more preferable, for Gilraen to ignore the ugly truth therein: that he was indeed training, and not for any game. She let herself cling to the fantasy, to their innocence, for one last moment, or so it seemed. When she retrieved her cider, it was lukewarm.

"Well, yes. So be it. His age is not inappropriate, even. One of his stature and maturity might have been started with the blade already, in the Angle, and especially being-- who he is."

Elrond leaned forward, taking her hand in his. "Such is one benefit," he said, "of dwelling here, that your son lives neither in danger nor fear, and need not hasten towards manhood. However, we would be remiss at this late date to delay any longer the inevitable. It is time."

"I know." His face had turned grave. She shook her head and offered a smile. "I know you're right. I'm being a silly mother, is all. He's growing too fast!"

Some tension remaining, Elrond smiled. "They always do, I assure you."

*******

Notes:
*Estel's 10th birthday presents are not canonical elements.

*******