Elladan’s Trials, For Estel

Chapter Ten

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.--Helen Keller

Elladan still sat on Estel’s bed…numb from what he’d just read.  He felt as though a weight had fallen upon his shoulders and it threatened to drag him into the abyss.  The years rolled back before his eyes and he was once again in that dark cave, holding his mother’s battered body and begging her to live. He had been unable to save her from the orc’s torment, but he would somehow find a way to save his Ada and Estel; he had to.  Elladan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.  ‘Elrohir, where are you, brother?  I need you.  I cannot do this again… I cannot do this alone.’ 

Suddenly lifting his head and shaking off his momentary panic, Elladan realized that he did indeed have to do this alone.  He could not shift part of this burden to Elrohir, for if he failed…  No, he would not allow those dark thoughts to paralyze him, for he was not sure he could survive that journey once again. He had to stay focused and clear in his intent…he had to protect his father, confront this evil, and find Estel.  If he failed, Valar forbid, he would shoulder the blame himself and not allow any of it on Elrohir.  Elladan stood up and walked over to the balcony.  He pulled back the curtains allowing the room to be washed in light while he gazed out unseeing, deep in thought. 

“Elladan?”

Elladan swung around to his father’s voice.  Elrond was standing in the doorway.  The twin quickly slipped the note into his pocket, pained at the need to deceive his father and aware that if he made the wrong move his baby brother would pay the price with his life. 

“Ada. I…”

“I understand, ion nín.  I, too, was drawn here.”  Elrond crossed the floor, stepping around the scattered toys and parchments to stand beside his firstborn.  Reaching down, he picked up the small, cloth-made bear that Estel favored sleeping with and held it tightly for a moment before handing it to Elladan.  “Estel will want this when he gets back. Why don’t you keep it for him?”

Elladan took the small animal from his father, smiling as he gazed down at it.  “He loves it so much that he left it on the floor?”

Elrond smiled. “He leaves everything on the floor.”

Elladan knew that his father was attempting to lighten his spirits so he made an attempt at returning the favor.  “He takes after Elrohir.”

“Hey!” came an indignant reply from the doorway. 

The pair turned to see Elrohir and Legolas standing just inside the room. 

“Estel is much messier than I am,” argued the younger twin.

“By the looks of you, I’m not so sure,” teased the older twin. “Legolas!” greeted Elladan walking over to grasp forearms with his friend. He was only able to offer his right arm, though, because of the small bear still grasped firmly in his left.  “I was not aware that you were here!” 

“Falathar and I arrived last night.  We’ve been searching with Elrohir for your new little brother ever since.”  Legolas quirked a fine eyebrow at the sight of the stuffed animal. “I take it this is his?”

“Yes,” the twin replied softly.  He gazed down at the tawny colored bear as his fingers ran lovingly over the soft surface.  With a quick sigh, Elladan tucked the animal into the fold of his tunic.  He cleared his throat self consciously and looked past Legolas and his brother. “Where is Falathar?”

Elrohir choked back a laugh.  “Legolas all but ordered him to accompany Glorfindel on patrol.”

Legolas had the good grace to look sheepish.  “Falathar is a good and loyal friend, but he has hovered over me for several days now and I needed some room to move without bumping into him.”

From the balcony an inaudible mumble was heard, and the three young ones turned to the source. 

“Did you say something, Ada?”

“I?  No, not at all,” replied the Lord, looking completely innocent.

“Speaking of bumping into someone, why is Estel’s room being guarded?” questioned Elrohir.  “I practically had to vouch for Legolas so that he would be allowed to enter.”

“Surely not!” came the incredulous reply from Lord Elrond.

“I’m sorry, Ada,” Elrohir immediately apologized, “I was only joking. But why is Curúfin guarding Estel’s room?”

“Curúfin is not here to guard Estel’s room,” admitted the elf Lord reluctantly. “He is here to guard me.”

Legolas and Elrohir practically gaped at Lord Elrond.  Elrohir had never seen his father with a guard and if he weren’t so tired he would have burst out laughing at the very thought.  “Let me guess, Glorfindel strikes again.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Elladan quietly, and Legolas and Elrohir turned their shocked faces from Lord Elrond to the twin.

Elrohir narrowed his eyes, but made no comment. He was picking up on some powerful emotions emanating from his brother, but he would not question them in front of their Ada.

Legolas looked back and forth between the twins, all too aware of their ability to read each other.

Elrond walked across the room to properly greet Legolas and Elrohir.  “Elrohir, you are a mess, ion nin.”

“He went for a swim, my Lord,” provided Legolas, smiling at Elrohir.  “I had hoped that he would get something to eat and rest a bit while before going back out to search.”

“Now who is hovering?” questioned Elrohir as he rolled his eyes at the Prince.  “I am fine, Ada. I will just change my clothes and grab something to eat.  I will rest when Estel is home.”

O-o-O-o-O

Quenthar walked through his house into the small bedroom at the back. The room was deeply shadowed because he kept the draperies closed at all times, preferring the darkness when he was here, away from his beloved horses. He pulled his bed out from where it rested against the back wall.  Sitting down on the side, he leaned across it to pull out a small leather bag he had hidden in a recess he’d carved from the rock wall below the level of the bed.  No one who didn’t know it was there would have found it without a thorough search.  The one bit of magic to which he’d ever had access was contained within this bag, a gift from a wizard. 

Sitting back up, he carefully untied the leather straps securing the top.  He reached in and grasped the glass vial by its cork lid.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before gently sliding the vial from the bag.  This would tell the tale, if the small enchantment he’d learned had worked.  If the note had been read, then the fluid would be a cloudy blue.  If it had not, then it would remain clear.  Steeling himself, Quenthar opened his eyes and smiled.  The fluid was blue.  The message had been read.  The Elf took a moment to allow the satisfaction to warm him.  So the bait had been taken.

This would be the day.  All the patience and the planning would finally come to fruition. Just a few more hours and Elrond would be in the Halls of Mandos, and Quenthar would sail for Valinor to comfort Celebrían.  Soon, he promised himself, consolation would turn to love and he would be with his beloved for the rest of time.  

As horn blasts began to echo through the valley, Quenthar’s head snapped up.  He smirked as he got up from the bed and proceeded to make his way towards the stables where he was expected to be any time there was a threat within the valley.

O-o-O-o-O

The sound of the blowing horn took them all by surprise.  Three short blasts followed by one long one, and then repeated. The twins shared one horrified look and then turned to see their father’s reaction.  The Lord of Imladris was looking back towards the window.  Turning to face the three young ones, he nodded to them once and started for the door. 

Legolas did not know exactly what the signal meant, but he was fairly sure from the reaction of the Peredhils that it was not good. “Elrohir, what is happening?”

Elrohir could hardly fathom it, and the surprise clearly showed on his face.  “It means the valley is being invaded.  It is from the western border; the one you would have entered by.  Come, we must go.  We will be needed.”

The three younger Elves hurried to follow Lord Elrond, who, by this time, was striding down the stairs, closely followed by Curúfin.  Elrond crossed the foyer in five swift strides and pulled open the door.  He was met immediately by Helcar.  The Elf had his sword drawn and was directing his warriors to tighten their defenses around the perimeter of the residence. “My Lord, please stay inside until we know more of what is happening.”

“Helcar…”

“Please, my Lord, just until I am sure that the area is secure.  Curúfin…”

“Come, my Lord,” directed Curúfin.  “Let the warriors deal with this.”

Elrond was vexed, but knew the warriors did not need to be distracted.  “Very well, I will see that the healing wing is prepared.”

The relief on Helcar’s face was obvious for all to see as he nodded his thanks to Curúfin and went back to directing his warriors.  No evil would get inside so long as one of them drew breath, of that he was certain.

Elrohir had pulled his sword as he got to the front door.  “Come on, Legolas, Elladan, let’s go.”

“No,” said Elrond as he turned back towards the trio.  “I do not want Prince Legolas to leave Imladris.  No,” he held up his hand to Legolas to forestall the argument he knew was coming.  “You are a guest in this valley.  Your father did not send you here to fight our battles.”  The Elf Lord walked into the house before the Prince could even respond. His healer’s mind was already on the preparations he would need to make for the possible influx of wounded.

“Ada’s right, Legolas, stay here and help him with the casualties that come in.”  Already beginning to tread down the steps, Elrohir turned towards his brother, who stood rooted beside the Prince.  “Come on, Elladan.”

“No, brother, I cannot.”

Those words stopped Elrohir in his tracks and he met his brother’s eyes with unbelief clearly marked on his incredulous face.  “What do you mean?  Elladan, our home is under attack!”

Elladan turned tortured eyes to his twin.  Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to join his brother, to be riding this moment towards the danger and the battle, but he dared not leave his father.  This could all be part of the plan, and he could not take that chance.  Nor could he explain to Elrohir.

Before Elrohir could answer a signal echoed from the hillside.  It was four short blasts from a horn, signifying that Glorfindel’s patrol was arriving at the site of the battle.  Another signal rang out from the western side of the Bruinen, signaling other patrols converging on the invasion site.  Imladris’ defenders were well trained and responding exactly as Lord Glorfindel had designed.

Even as the last blasts of the horns were dying, another group of warriors were formed up in front of the stable and preparing to ride out.  Elrohir looked from them back to his brother, confusion warring with the anger on his face.  “Elladan, are you coming?”

Elladan shook his head sadly.  “I can not come, Elrohir.  Go, and be careful, Brother.”

“When I get back,” the twin promised, “we’re going to have a long talk.  Do you hear me?”

“Once Estel is home I’ll explain everything, I promise.” 

O-o-O-o-O

Locked inside a fevered body, Estel roamed a dream world that comforted him as much as it confused him.  At least in this place he was not wedged into a dark box…not alone.  Here there were shadows moving, men and elves, he thought, going about their business.

The child found himself standing as though on a gray cloud or enveloped in a thick fog; he wasn’t sure which it was, for the delicate tendrils drifted up and around him.  He laughed delightedly as the wisps parted when he ran his hand back and forth through them.

“Aragorn,” a deep voice called out.  “Aragorn, come to me, son.”

Estel stopped playing with the clouds and looked around, confused.  It sounded as though the voice was calling to him. He cocked his head to one side as he tried harder to see through the mists to where a shadow stood.  He wasn’t afraid, even though he could not make out who the shadow was.  It seemed to beckon him.

“Aragorn,” the shadow repeated. “Come to me.”

The boy started to walk towards the shadow.

“Estel, no, come to me,” called another misty figure.

“Ada?” questioned the child, turning towards the new voice.  “Ada, is that you?”

But no one answered his inquiry.

“Aragorn,” the deep voice cooed one more, “you are a man-child; you must come to me.  You will be powerful if you come to me!”

The child wavered, unsure of what to do.

“Aragorn, you are tired and you are sick.  Come to me and you will feel no more pain.”

A frown crossed the boy’s face.  It would be good not to hurt any more. He was afraid of the box and did not want to go back there.  Even as his mind turned to these thoughts he could feel himself floating towards the shadow.

“Estel, we love you.  Stay with us,” came pleading voices from someplace that Estel could not see but very much wanted to be.

“Dan?  Ro?”  Estel tried to stop his glide.  It took all his strength, but he was able to stop and turn back towards the voices of his brothers.

“Aragorn, do you not want the power I offer you?  Do you not want to stop hurting?” appealed the shadow. 

Estel looked back and forth, torn between the two sets of voices.  He was starting to feel very tired, very heavy, as though he arms and legs weighed twice as much as usual.  Memories flitted across his consciousness, warring with each other for his attention.  There were memories of a man and a woman, of fear and dark creatures, and he was afraid of them.  But there were also good memories of elves, and of laughter, and the child knew where he wanted to be.

“No,” shouted Estel.  “I don’t want the power.  I want my Ada and my Gwadors.”

“Aragorn, you must come; you cannot escape what must be.  Come to me!”

“No!” wailed the child.  “I don’t want to come. I want my Ada!  I want my Ada…” the boy cried as all went dark once more and he found himself back in the darkness…alone in the box. “I want my Ada…”