Healing Hope

Chapter Two

Compromise

“A compromise is the art of dividing a cake in such a way that everyone believes he has the biggest piece.”

Ludwig Erhard

Estel eyes shone with excitement as he carried his treasure towards the house.  He just knew the kitty was going to feel much safer sleeping with him in his sunshine blankey.  He would feed him and give him water and pet him every day.  Blubby was his very first kitty ever!

Intent upon his mission, Estel wasn’t paying very close attention to where he was going. He exited the garden and made a sharp left hand turn and barreled into Curúfin.  The boy bounced off the warrior’s legs and would have fallen onto his backside if not for the speed of Curúfin’s reflexes.

“Your pardon, master Estel,” said the elf.  “I did not see you coming.  What have you got there?”

“I am sorry, too, Curúfin.  I was in a hurry.  This is Blubby, my new kitty.  He is going to live in my room,” beamed the child.

“Is he indeed?  Well that is something I shall look forward to seeing.”

Elrohir and Elladan, and of course Celon and Celos, walked up to the pair. 

“I see the guards are still on duty,” laughed Curúfin. “I shall never forget the look on Erestor’s face when these two walked into the Hall of Fire last night.”

Elrohir raised an eyebrow in an uncanny imitation of Lord Elrond, and then chuckled merrily.  “Yes, I must say that it shall be one of my favorite memories as well.  El and I have managed to get a variety of reactions from Erestor, but that was one even we have failed to achieve.”

Impatient to be on his way, Estel did not tarry to listen to any more of the conversation.  He wanted his Ada to meet Blubby.

For his part, Fluffy was taking it all in stride, even dangling as he was from the crook of Estel’s elbow.   Of course, the kitten could see his mother pacing the pair and was, no doubt, secure in the thought he would be safely ensconced with the rest of his litter mates by nightfall.

The door to the great hallway opened with a bang as Estel had only one hand free to get it open.  An enthusiastic shout echoed through the house, bearing witness that in his excitement Estel had forgotten some of the house rules, the chief of which being that one did not shout inside.  “Ada!”

Elrond was in the library and easily heard the crash of the front door followed closely by his youngest’s call.  For a split second his heart had raced, until his mind reasoned that the child’s cry was not one of fear or pain, but of excitement.  Patiently and with a rueful smile, he pushed back the seat from the desk where he had been working and started towards the door.  He would need to remind the boy of the rules, but in fact, was heartened to hear animation in his son’s voice once again.

For too long Estel had been withdrawn. It stemmed, of course, from his fearful experience, and even now he had periods where he appeared almost normal, except for an underlying wariness that lurked to be just beneath the surface.  It was inevitable, the elf lord suspected, given the fact that the child had been taken from his home, from his father’s very bed…a place he should have been safest.

As Elrond neared the door of the library, Estel fairly burst through the door, a smile of excitement on his face.  “Ada, look, look what I found!  He was all alone and I saved him!  I will be his Ada.”  Estel was panting with exertion as he reached Elrond.

“I see, Estel,” began the lord calmly.  “Where did you find the feline?”

“It’s a kitty, Ada.  His name is Blubby and he’s going to live in my room with me.  I will keep him safe in my blankey.”

“Blubby.”  Elrond’s eyebrow arched as he took a deep breath and considered the situation.  In all the long years he had been a father, he had never had a child want to keep an animal in the house.  His thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance coming from the front hallway.  “What now,” he sighed.  “Come with me, Estel, and please bring the..uh..”

“Blubby,” supplied the happy little boy as he followed his father down the hallway.

At the front door, Elladan and Elrohir were laughing so hard they could hardly complete the task of keeping their horses from following them in the front door.  The stallions, intent upon entering, were not ignorant; they had seen Estel carry the kitten into the house and if one animal could come in, then why not two more?   

Celos had his head down and was attempting to push Elladan out of the way.  Celon was right beside him pushing on the door, behind which Elrohir was shoving back.

“Daro, Celos,” laughed Elladan.  “I love you for seeking to protect Estel, but we shall take over in here.  Go...go back to the stables where you belong.”

Celos whinnied and shook his great head before lowering it again, as though to try once more to shove his master out of the way.  Instead, he nuzzled the hand that was resting firmly against his forehead.

“That’s my beauty.  Go back to the stables, and I will bring you a treat,” promised the son of Elrond.  

Once the twins got their horses out of the door and closed it, they turned around to see their father standing before them, head lowered, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.  In short, he had “that” look on his face.  “This has ceased to be amusing.  I will not have horses strolling throughout my home at will!”

“But Ada,” exclaimed Elrohir, “I promise it’s not us!  I mean, we didn’t do it.”

“It’s true, Ada,” nodded Elladan.  “They have adopted Estel and don’t seem to want to leave him.”

A tug on his robe pulled the Elf Lord’s attention down to the four year old waiting patiently - with kitten, a frown marring his intense little face. “Am I in trouble, Ada?”

Elrond smiled down at his son, gently placing his hand on the boy’s head.  “Estel, you have done nothing to displease me, but Celon and Celos remain outside, where animals belong.”

A small set of shoulders sagged and impossibly large silver blue eyes became red rimmed as Estel fought to bat back the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. 

All thought of merriment in the situation fled as the twins watched their little brother.  It was when his bottom lip began to quiver that Elrond could stand it no longer.

He bent down and scooped up the boy and the kitten.  “Do not cry, Estel.  I believe we may work out a compromise.”

“Wh what’s a comprise?” hiccupped the child.

“It is where we come to an agreement with which both of us are happy.”

This brought a smile back to the twins.  Once again, their Ada had come through with just the right suggestion.

“Now,” continued Elrond.  “You may bring the, er, Fluffy into the house occasionally to play with you in your room, and the rest of the time he shall stay outside.”

“But he’s all alone, Ada.”  Tears began to fall from Estel’s eyes once again, as he buried his head on Elrond’s shoulder.  “He’ll be afraid in the dark,” whispered the boy.

It was then that Elrond understood. His heart ached to be able to reassure Estel and relieve him of the lingering torment and fear.

Estel was snuggling his kitten and Elrond was snuggling Estel.  With a kiss to the unruly dark hair and soft sigh, Elrond looked at the terrace opening and smiled.  “Estel, look.” 

Estel looked up to where his Ada was pointing.  There, in the terrace opening, beside the softly blowing draperies, was the mother cat.  She knew not to come in, but she was watching her kitten.

“That is Fluffy’s mother, Estel.  It’s getting dark outside, and she would be very sad if you took her kitten away all night.”

“Like you were sad when the bad elf took me away?” asked the boy.  He shivered unconsciously at the memory.

“Yes, tithen pen,” answered Elrond, hugging the boy just a little closer to himself as he, too, remembered the helplessness of finding Estel missing.  “I am sure that Fluffy’s mother would be happy for you to play with her kittens so long as you are very careful with them and always let them remain close to her.”

Estel was silently considering his Ada’s words as he stroked the soft fur of the kitten.

“Fluffy’s mother has a box in the barn, Estel,” said Elrohir.  “There are four other kittens and you could play with them all there.”

“You love to go to the barn,” encouraged Elladan.  “And Celos and Celon would be happy to have you there as well.” 

“Especially since they cannot come into the house to be with you,” added Elrohir, with a wink at his father.

 “How do we know that’s Blubby’s mother?” asked Estel, still a bit unsure of the situation.

“Why don’t we ask Fluffy?” responded Elrond. He walked over near the terrace entrance and lowered Estel.  “Set Fluffy down and let’s see what he does.”

Tentatively, Estel set the kitten onto the floor.  Fluffy stretched, yawned, and then walked lazily over to his mother.  The mother cat began to stroke and clean the kitten, much to its delight.  Loud purring could be heard coming from Fluffy.

Estel giggled at the sound. “He likes it!”

“Why don’t we leave Fluffy to his mother and go see what is being served for dinner?” suggested Elrond.  “You have had a busy day, Estel, and I am sure that you are hungry.”  Taking his son by the hand, the Elf Lord and the little human boy walked down the hall together followed by the twins. 

All in all it had been a very good day.

O-o-O-o-O

Legolas sat alone, perched as high as he could get in the ancient oak.  He had left Thranduil’s pavilion to seek some solace in the trees and work out his strategy.  Tomorrow they would be reaching Imladris, and he had yet to enlighten his Adar regarding certain facts about Estel.  ‘Ha,’ snorted Legolas to himself, ‘just the small fact that Estel is human.  That’s not so big, right?’  Legolas groaned softly.  ‘Who am I kidding?  It is huge.  How did I get myself in this mess?’

Legolas had naturally reported the details of his trip to Imladris when he returned to his father’s kingdom.  The story about Quenthar and the involvement of the blue wizard had particularly intrigued Thranduil, especially when he heard how Quenthar had cornered his son.  The king’s face had paled, and as a warrior, Legolas had been mortified to admit having been caught unaware and without his weapons.  Even now, that moment angered him as he remembered facing that mad elf.

Legolas was hurrying across the archery field when he felt a touch of evil entering his senses. He stopped, scanning the forests around him. The touch was feathery light and nebulous, but definitely there. He opened his mind to the trees trying to focus on what they might be attempting to tell him. He could feel the trees at the end of the field calling to him in their distress, and it was the familiar call he’d felt before. But now he was also sensing distress and darkness in the trees to his left, where he had not felt any before.

A frown marred the fair being’s face as he puzzled through this new development and to discern what the trees were attempting to tell him. It was as thought they were all agitated and he was having trouble making sense of all the messages he was receiving.

“What is it, my friends,” he called out while turning in a circle. “Where is the child?” He closed his eyes and attempted to still his thoughts as he let the messages wash over him. Undeniably the strongest calling came from the far end the field. “Hannon le,” he cried, “Lead me to the boy.” He stared walking in the direction of the pond.

“Prince Legolas,” called a deep voice behind him.

The surprised prince turned quickly. He was chagrined to realize that he’d let his guard down while so focused on the trees. He was glad that Falathar was not here to share in his embarrassment, for he would never have let his friend live down the failing. “Quenthar, did Elladan send you after me?”

“No, Elladan did not send me.”

Legolas was slightly confused by the presence of the elf. “I am going to find Estel. The trees are leading me.”

“I am afraid I cannot allow you to do that, Prince Legolas,” snarled the elf.

The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on Legolas. “Quenthar?”

“That’s right, your highness,” jeered the elf.

Legolas gazed at the stable master in astonishment. Quenthar’s face was so twisted in rage that he was almost unrecognizable as the same elf that had always been so kind and attentive to the horses of Imladris and her guests. If the look on his face was indefinable, the sword in his hands was not. Its burnished surface mocked the prince and he had a sudden longing for his weapons, which were back in his room in the Last Homely House.

Resolve crossed the prince’s face and he repeated, “I am going to find Estel.”

Quenthar actually laughed. “Estel, if he’s not already dead, is going to die in that hole where I left him, and you are going to die right here.”

“You will not kill me,” said the prince softly.

“Oh? You are not even armed, in case you’ve failed to notice. So tell me, high and mighty prince, who will stop me?”

“I will,” promised a voice from behind him.

Quenthar spun to look upon the elf who had dared to cross him. He was so close to all his dreams now; he would not allow anyone to interfere. “Elladan…”

When Legolas told his father of Elladan’s intervention, Thranduil had decided to make this trip to Imladris to personally thank the twin, a fact which frankly astounded Legolas. 

He almost shivered as he remembered finding Estel buried alive, traumatized, dehydrated, and severely ill.  He had freed the child and raced back towards the Last Homely House.

The disquiet of the trees alerted him before the sound of metal on metal reached his ears as Legolas started down the path that circled the goldfish pond. He paused, trying to place the position of the sounds of battle. “Hold on, Elladan,” he murmured, “I’ll be back as soon as I get Estel to the house and retrieve my weapons.” Emerging from the woods behind the archery targets, Legolas’ heart skipped a beat when he saw the older twin lying on the field and Lord Elrond himself in a pitched battle with Quenthar; a battle that he did not appear to be winning.

Legolas was momentarily frozen, his warrior’s instincts urging him to come to the Elf Lord’s aid while his heart reminded him of his responsibility to protect the child in his arms. Looking down at the innocent face he was surprised to see serious blue eyes gazing calmly back at him with such trust that he was humbled and amazed at the wave of protectiveness that washed over him. A small hand reached up to touch his cheek and it was as though the Valar had granted him the foresight of Elrond to affirm that he would forever be bound to this child. It was at once unsettling and comforting. Legolas would never speak of it again, but ever after he would think of this as the epiphany…the moment that defined his lifelong relationship with Estel.

The memory brought a smile to the elf’s fair face.  Until meeting Estel, the only humans he’d had contact with were the men from Lake Town.  He was, of course, in attendance at the formal parleys when they came to Mirkwood to trade with the King, but was never allowed to be alone with the humans.  Thranduil was cordial, to a point, but the humans were shadowed by elven guards every moment they were in the Mirkwood.

Even before Legolas had met Estel, he had witnessed the way Lord Elrond and the twins, indeed, everyone in Imladris, had loved the child and known that he must be very special. The ways of the Valar were too much for him to comprehend, yet he felt sure that they had ordained his friendship with the child, even though he did not understand why or how this would be accomplished.

Legolas would never deliberately lie to his Adar, for he was also his Sovereign, but he had not included the fact of Estel’s humanity in the telling, and thus the quandary in which he now found himself. 

“Estel?” the king snorted, astonishment written all over his beautiful features. “Elrond named his son Estel?”

“His foster son,” corrected Legolas, “and yes, he named him Estel.”

Thranduil threw back his head and laughed uproariously.  “And they say I’m prissy!  I hope the elfling learns how to defend himself, for he will have a difficult time among the other elflings with a name like that.”

The conversation had digressed from there and Legolas had never quite gotten around to explaining to his Adar that the “elfling” was actually a little boy.

He sighed, gazing up the stars as Eärendil made his nightly trek overhead.  “Ah, Elbereth, what am I to do?”

TBC