Elladan’s Trials,  For Estel

Chapter Five

Friendship, Loyalty, Love

The best things in life are never rationed. Friendship, loyalty, love, do not require coupons.--G. T. Hewitt

Lord Elrond Peredhil resisted the urge to sigh again.  “Erestor, can you see them?”

The elf lord continued his straightening and worked his way over to the terrace entrance. “Yes, my lord,” he answered, “they are still perched out on that tree like three magpies.”

Elrond smiled to himself at the comparison.  “Then now would be a good time to proceed.  Pull the draperies, please.  I do not want them involved in this procedure.”

Erestor gave a cursory nod to the three beings suspended outside just off the balcony and with a small smile on his face, pulled the draperies closed, casting the room in shadow. 

From outside three heads immediately snapped up, frowns reflected on each face. 

“What is he doing?” questioned Elrohir.

“I can’t believe it,” echoed Elladan.

“I am gong to strangle that haughty elf,” growled Glorfindel.  “Is it not bad enough that he cast me out of the house like, like, refuse?” the warrior sputtered in indignation.   It’s not that he really expected any answer from the twins, so much as it was just the pure satisfaction he derived from speaking the words aloud.

The twins knew enough to let their teacher and friend vent his emotions.  It was an ongoing battle of wits between the dark haired seneschal and the golden warrior of Imladris.  Neither would admit it, but they were the best of friends and thrived on their verbal jousts. 

“What do we do now?” Elrohir questioned forlornly.  “Ada said he did not want to see us back inside until dinnertime, and that is still an hour away.

“Why don’t we find that snake we promised Estel?” replied Elladan, trying to work up some enthusiasm for the task. 

“I thought Erestor forbade you to bring a snake in the house?” queried Glorfindel.

Two identical heads turned his way, but a pair of raised eyebrows was all the answer the twins gave.

A wicked smile crossed Glorfindel’s face. “I seem to remember that Erestor is deathly afraid of snakes.  I do believe that I will help you find one.”

O-o-O-o-O

Inside, in Lord Elrond’s room, Erestor had built up the fire, boiled water for tea, brought in linen strips of material and lit several spirit lamps to provide additional light. The elf lord had changed from the robes he had worn as he straightened and cleaned the room as well.  The deep sleeves of the dove gray robe he now wore were rolled back to facilitate his assistance with the procedure on the child.

Elrond gently laid Estel down on the bed and made sure he was covered warmly by his sunshine blankey.  Even with the warmth it provided, the child shivered almost uncontrollably.   Elrond sprinkled some yarrow into the weak herbal tea.  Erestor had thoughtfully provided a honey pot from which Elrond measured out a generous amount to be added to Estel’s drink.  The elf lord worked quickly but exactingly to ensure that the amount was only enough to make the child drowsy.  It would be ideal for all concerned if he could put the child to sleep, but with his fever so high Lord Elrond feared to anesthetize him completely.

Easing his arm behind Estel’s back and helping him to sit up, the elf lord spoke softly to him.  “Ion nín, can you drink this for Ada?”

Estel’s glanced up at this father with dulled, glazed eyes. 

The elf lord was not even sure that Estel recognized him at this point.  Carefully holding the cup to his son’s mouth, Elrond helped and encouraged the child to drink the precious liquid.  Once the cup was completely empty, Elrond eased the boy back down.  The worried Noldor sat quietly waiting by his son’s bed as the medicated tea relaxed the child and hopefully lowered the fever raging through the tot once more.  

“My mouth hurts, Ada,” Estel murmured softly from where he lay.

“I know, Pen-nîn tithen; the infection is causing pressure that makes the injury throb.  Once the pressure is relieved it will be much less painful.”

Strong fingers eased through the baby soft hair, further relaxing the boy.  He turned to ask Erestor for the clove oil only to find the seneschal already standing by his side with the oil.  Erestor had even warmed the oil so that it would cause less disparity against the child’s overheated skin.  Elrond turned grateful but concern-masked eyes to his long time friend and nodded his thanks. “Hannon lle.”

“Avo bedo o hannad, hîr nín, but no thanks are necessary,” assured Erestor. “I have been your friend since we fought together at Gil-galad’s side, and that will never change.  Your sons are as my sons; my service will always belong to the Lord of Imladris and to his house. Hebo estel, hîr nín, think of your son’s name. ”

From the bed, sleepy silver eyes turned to Elrond.  The weakness in his voice cut straight to the hearts of the two immortals.  “Is it going to hurt, Ada?”

“Perhaps a small bit, Estel, but it should not hurt much.”  Elrond ever so gently dabbed the clove oil onto the child’s cut lip.  “Very good, Estel,” he soothed. “Now I am going to place some warm cloths onto your lip.  They will not burn you, my son,” he hastened to assure. 

A small hand slipped out from beneath the covers to rest on the elf lord’s knee, as though the small contact was all the child needed to be assured of his father’s comfort. 

The touch was almost the esteemed elf’s undoing.  Forcing his feelings down, he lovingly smoothed back curls from the feverish brow before continuing his gentle ministrations.

”Restor?” asked the boy as he watched the two work in unison and with an economy of movement achieved only by the elves.  “Will you stay with me too?”

“I would be most happy to stay with you, penneth.  Perhaps you will let me tell you a story while your Ada goes to take some dinner tonight.”

Elrond reached over the bowl of warm, treated water, which Erestor was now holding for him.  He dipped a linen strip into it and thoroughly wrung out the cloth before placing it on Estel’s lip.  “Is that too warm, Estel?” questioned the immortal.

Estel gave a small shake of his head. 

“That is good.  Now we will just let that stay on your lip until it begins to cool slightly. 

While the cloth cooled on Estel, Erestor kept the other water warmed by placing the bowl over a specially made spirit lamp.  The temperature of the water was maintained by a small valve which enabled the seneschal to regulate the size of the flame.  

After Elrond had repeated the procedure several times until he determined that the lip was sufficiently soft.  He picked up a small dagger which was used in the healing wing and held it over the flame of a lamp.   Careful to show Estel what he was doing, he moved back beside the bed.  “Estel, I am going to put a tiny prick beside the stitches which Elladan put into your lip.  The clove oil and the treated heat has deadened and softened your injury.

Fearful eyes met his and the elf lord paused to comfort his son as two fat tears rolled down the side of the child’s face.  “You know that I will be as gentle as I can, do you not?” the lord asked.  His finger tenderly wiped the tears that clung to Estel’s fever brightened cheeks as he conveyed all the love that he could into the look he gave his son.

Taking a shuddering breath, the little boy tried to stop the quiver that overtook his bottom lip.  Mustering all the courage his little heart possessed, Estel stopped the tears and nodded to his father.  “It is all right, Ada; I am a big boy.   Dan and Ro wouldn’t cry, would they?”

Elrond smiled down at the little one who had so stolen his heart.  “Your brothers are going to be very proud of you, Estel, and very impressed.  I feel certain that this shall earn you another ride on Celos.”

“Would you like to hold my hand, Estel?” asked Erestor.  “Lord Glorfindel once held my hand when he was wounded and your Ada had to take an arrow from his side.”

“He did?” the boy asked in wonder.  “Truly?”

“Yes, truly, penneth,” replied the advisor.  “And he is a very brave elf, is he not?”

“Yes,” nodded the boy, “almost as brave as Ada.”  Reaching out his little hand he allowed the older elf to enfold his tiny fist.  Estel’s chubby fingers wrapped around Erestor’s thumb as the immortal patted his hand.  The child had been unable to suck his own thumb since the injury to his upper lip, but still found some comfort in holding onto one.

With a small nod to his advisor, Elrond picked up the dagger again and swiftly, but gently, made a small incision.  Immediately the foul bloody yellow offage began to stream from the cut as the pressure was released, and the elf lord used the damp linen strips to clear the drainage with small pats.

Estel flinched but did not turn his head.  The only other indication of the child’s discomfort was the quiver in his bottom lip and the slight pressure his hand made on his father’s knee.

“I will tell you something else about Lord Glorfindel if you will keep it secret,” Erestor told the child as a way of distraction.  His ploy worked, for two curious blue eyes quickly met his.  Erestor smiled at the child.  “Yes?  Then it will be our secret.”

The blue eyes of the child looked back at his Ada, who was continuing to clean the discharge form his lip, and then back to Erestor.

“Ah, I see,” nodded Erestor.  “Well, it is permissible to speak in front of Lord Elrond.  You see, your Ada knows this secret and has for many long years.  He will not tell.  The secret is that I truly do not dislike Lord Glorfindel; I only pretend to argue with him.  It keeps him humble, you see.  You won’t tell him, will you?”

Estel looked bemused for a moment.  Small eyebrows knotted together as he considered Erestor’s word.  Elrond noticed and stopped dabbing the wound, which was now beginning to run clear.  “Restor, I think Glorby already knows that secret,” Estel said seriously.

The seneschal glanced up at Lord Elrond and then back down to Estel. “Now that is a very wise thing to say, penneth.  Are you sure you’re just a little boy and not a 2000 year old elf?”

A large sigh and sleepy eyes were the only answer he received.

Elrond finished cleaning the last of the drainage from the tiny incision and bandaged the cut.  Setting aside the dirtied linen strips, he took Estel into his arms.  “There now, ion nín, that should feel better.”

Little arms went around the elf lord’s neck.  “It does, Ada, I don’t feel the beat in it like I did.”

Wrapping the blanked securely around his son, Elrond moved over to the chair as Erestor removed the supplies.  He settled back into the seat as he cradled his son.  “Sleep now, my Estel,” he crooned softly, humming a tune that Celebrían has used to sing the twins to sleep when they were Elflings.  As Estel’s eyes slowly closed, Elrond found himself praying to each and every Vala he could think of that this would do stop the infection and allow his remedies to lower his son’s fever.

O-o-O-o-O

Outside, the sun had finally sunk beneath the hills which protected this hidden valley.  By the silvery light of the newly risen moon the three elves were scouring the garden in search of the illusive snake with which to amuse Estel and, in Glorfindel’s case, irritate Erestor.  Of course the three elves would not let the child handle the snake.  Non- poisonous or not, the creature could carry germs, and that was the last thing that Estel needed in his present condition.  Besides, none of the three wished to taste the ire of Lord Elrond should he actually see them brining a live snake into his bedroom.  They would have to be careful about how they went about this particular prank.

So intent were the three upon their quest that they failed to notice the regal elf standing in the entryway to the garden.  Erestor was quite amused at the sight of the famed balrog slayer down on his hands and knees muttering to himself and up to his waist in a particularly bushy plant. 

“Now where did that blasted thing go? I know I saw it slither in here!”  If anything, Glorfindel moved further into the bush, leaving only his backside sticking out at an absurd and extremely undignified angle.

Identical heads popped up from behind a nearby holly plant.  “Have you found one?” questioned Elrohir.

“Oops,” stammered Elladan as he caught sight of Erestor.

The elegant elf held a graceful finger to his lips and motioned the twins to keep quiet.  Laughter sparkled in his eyes as he glanced back at the oblivious Glorfindel.

“Come on, little snakey, I won’t hurt you,” lured the warrior, wiggling the bush.

Erestor had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. Oh, this was a sight he was going to cherish for millennia.  “I must say, Lord Glorfindel, thankfully this is a side of you I am not used to seeing.”

All movement in the bush froze at the pronouncement.  For his part, Glorfindel hoped that this was a bad dream and that he did not actually hear what he just thought he heard, for that would be unthinkable!  Easing out of the prickly plant, the golden warrior glanced back over his shoulder and winced at the sight that met his eyes.  “Oh Nárendur!” he swore to himself in the high language; “I shall never live this down!”    With as much dignity as he could muster, the elf lord stood to his feet and dusted off his knees and hands.  Small sprigs of greenery clung to his silken hair.  Clearing his throat slightly, he nodded to the seneschal.  “Erestor, how is Estel?”  

Delight danced through Erestor’s mind as he enjoyed the immortal’s unease.  “Attempting to change the subject, are we?”

“Not at all!” thundered the embarrassed warrior.  “I am simply concerned for the welfare of my Lord’s youngest.”  He pulled himself up straighter and crossed his arms impatiently.  “Well, are you going to tell us or must I drag it out of you.”

Fighting down his smile Erestor glanced from Glorfindel to the twins, who had joined them.  “First, wash up and change your clothes, and then come to the Hall of Fire. Lord Elrond will address you there.”

Alarm shot through Elladan and he roughly grabbed the seneschal by the arm.  “Has something happened to Estel?  Tell us, please Erestor!  I cannot simply wash up and wait if my brother is worse.”

Erestor patted the hand which held his arm.  “Peace, Elrondion, all is well.  I believe that Estel will be fine now, and your father will explain everything to you.  I am going back to sit with the child now while my Lord takes some nourishment.”  He gave the twins a searching look.  “Go, eat with your father.  He needs your comfort now, for it has been a difficult day for him.  I will stay with Estel, and after dinner you may all come up to see the boy.”

O-o-O-o-O

The Lord of Imladris sat wearily at a table on one side of the Hall of Fire.  As always, cheerful flames danced and crackled in the huge fireplace which dominated one wall of the hall.  The light from the blaze was augmented by flickering torches arranged around the walls, casting the deep shadows across the ceiling.  Scattered in small groups, other elves from Rivendell lounged, ate, or talked softly.  In the corner two musicians strummed lyres and sang an enchanting melody. Their beautiful voices brought peace to the hearts of all who listened as a warm breeze caressed the gathered elves with the delicate scents from the flowers outside.  On most nights this hall buzzed with activity, revelry, and much happiness, but all the inhabitants of Imladris knew of the Estel’s injury and concern for the much beloved child as well as for his Ada had muted the usual festivities.

The calm of the moment was shattered as three freshly scrubbed elves ran through the door and skidded to a stop in front of Lord Elrond.  Lord Glorfindel, at least, attempted to maintain some dignity, but the twins cared not how they were perceived.  Despite Erestor’s reassurance, concern was plainly reflected in the fair being’s faces.  Lord Elrond looked up to his sons with love in his eyes. “Come; sit with me, my sons.  Glorfindel, join us as well, please.”  He motioned to seats beside him and across the table.

Choking back their impatience, Elladan and Elrohir joined their father at the table.  Glorfindel sat across from the three.  “Father, please,” begged Elladan, “tell us what has happened.”

“Estel is resting.  I believe the infection is now staunched and his fevers shall begin to subside.”

“But…” encouraged Elladan when his father paused, for he could see that there was more in his Ada’s eyes.  Elrohir looked back and forth between his father and his brother.

“But,” continued Lord Elrond, “I was required to perform a small procedure.”

“Procedure!” exclaimed both twins at once.  Elladan jumped to his feet and would have gone immediately to Estel’s side had his father’s hand not stopped him.

“Havo Dad, Elladan,” he said kindly, but firmly. 

“But Ada, this is my fault,” confessed the guilt ridden twin.

“No, Elladan, we have been over this before.  It is not your fault, nor yours, Elrohir.”  The elf lord looked at his sons, feeling not at all like the wise elf that all in Arda believed him to be.

Before he could continue, a scream echoed from upstairs.

“Estel!”

Translations:

Estel: Hope

Ada: Daddy

Ion nin: My Son

Hebo estel, hîr nín; Have hope, my Lord

Pen-nîn tithen; My Little One

Hannon le: Thank you

Avo bedo o hannad, hîr nín: You are most welcome, my Lord

Nárendur: Qyenya Servant of Fire

Havo Dad: Sit Down

Elrondion – Son of Elrond