Healing Hope

Chapter Eight

Estel Lives

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.
--William Shakespeare King Richard

Evening shadows were creeping across the path way as Celon made his way carefully back to Imladris, ever mindful of the precious cargo he bore.  The horse was proud to have helped find Estel, but was now anxious to return to the stables to see about Celos.

The cooling evening air caused the wet and wounded child to shiver and Elladan stopped to wrap his tunic more securely around his brother.  “Hold on, Estel, we’ll be home soon.”  Hoping to provide some more warmth, the twin moved Estel as much against his body as he dared being mindful of the mangled arm.

As they neared the clearing where the dead boar still lay, they were met by an anxious Legolas and Glorfindel.  The pair had both noticed the direction in which Elladan left earlier, and as soon as they had been able to complete giving directions to the various search parties, had come this way themselves.  Neither one would yield to the other, so they came together.

Legolas and Glorfindel had just remounted after checking the signs of battle and picking up Elladan’s trail.   Both had seen the obvious indications that Estel had fallen into the river.   Neither believed that Estel could possibly survive against such odds, yet not a word of doubt did they utter.

Glorfindel was, of course, privy to Estel’s true heritage and the devastating effect his death would have upon all Arda.  He silently steeled himself to protect Elrond and his family against the dark forces that would continue to grow so long as there was breath in his body.  But Estel was not just the future king, he was a much beloved part of this family as well and it was from those feelings that Glorfindel had to force his mind away.

Legolas simply grieved for the knowledge that he would be unable to better know the bright little boy he had met on that dark night so many months ago.  He felt an unmistakable bond with the small human, which puzzled him then as, indeed, it did now.  Incredibly he felt as though Estel’s loss would leave a hole in life that he might not again be able to fill.

“Elladan!” called Glorfindel as he spotted the twin approaching with a mud covered Estel in his arms.  From the slow gait of Celon and Elladan’s downcast face, Glorfindel feared the worst.  “Estel?”

“Estel lives,” Elladan smiled.  “He lives, Glorfindel!”

Glorfindel gave an undignified but joyous whoop of excitement at the news.

Estel’s eyes fluttered open at the sound. “Glorby?”  The child was too tired and pained to even think about how he had worked to master his “Fs”.  He smiled slightly when he heard the sweetly jingling bells on Asfaloth’s bridle and was comforted that the warrior was nearby.

Glorfindel and Legolas pulled along side Celon and the horse stopped for a moment to allow for the happy reunion.

“Look at you,” laughed Glorfindel.  “You look like a mud monster.”  Glorfindel gently pulled back the tunic to assess the child for himself.  The warrior’s eyes narrowed as he saw the jagged bone protruding from the skin of Estel’s arm, but he kept the smile securely on his face for Estel’s benefit.  Mud and blood had mingled and dried all around the vicious looking wound. 

Estel reached out with a small hand to take hold of Glorfindel’s finger, and the warmth of love flooded the warrior’s heart as he leaned over to bestow a kiss to Estel’s forehead.  

“Your Ada shall be very happy to see you, Pen-nîn tithen, as am I,” smiled Glorfindel.

Estel tried to smile back but only managed to shiver.  Glorfindel quickly covered him back up to preserve what warmth the child had.

Estel’s eyes looked incredibly large, white and vulnerable against the all the mud of his face and they batted sleepily.

“Hello, little one,” said Legolas gently.  He too had seen the arm and feared what it might mean.  Could even so mighty a healer as Elrond repair such damage without permanent disability?

Estel looked over to who had spoken.  His body stiffened and he cried out fearfully, turning his head into Elladan’s chest.

The three elves were confused by the reaction, for it was clearly one of fear.

“Estel, what is wrong?” Elladan questioned calmly. “All is well, little one,” he soothed.  “You are safe.”

“The bad elf,” Estel cried, his voice muffled against the twin.  A soft sob escaped the boy and tore at Elladan’s heart.  “The bad elf came back for me. He said he would.”

Suddenly the reason for Estel’s panicked run into the forest became clear.  Of course, the child had seen the blonde riders from behind and his mind’s eye had substituted the thing he feared the most and that still troubled his dreams…that Quenthar would return to bury him.  Elladan closed his eyes imagining the fear that Estel must have felt.

“Estel,” said Legolas softly, unable to resist reaching out to lay his hand on the boy’s knee.  “I am Legolas. Do you remember me, tithen pen?” He deliberately kept his voice mellow and calming.

“Legolas?” came the still muffled reply.  Slowly Estel turned his head so that he could peek with one eye, prepared to once again to seek the safety of his gwador’s chest if need be.  One large silver-blue eye peered at Legolas followed cautiously by the other one. 

When the child didn’t flinch, Legolas smiled at the boy.  “That’s it, Estel.  You remember me now, don’t you.  I am sorry that I frightened you.”

Estel began to shiver again and Elladan realized the need to get him back to Ada quickly. “We must go,” he said, spurring Celon on to a fast walk. The horse responded easily, for Celon was anxious to see Celos.  Quickly, Glorfindel and Legolas turned their mounts to follow. 

“I will ride ahead to alert Elrond and to recall the search parties,” said Glorfindel.  “I will tell Erestor to have plenty of water warmed. It will take a while to get all of that mud off of the little one.”

“I will stay as escort to Elladan and Estel,” said Legolas.  He spurred his horse ahead of Celon to help clear the path.

O-o-O-o-O

Celos lay trustingly on the hay being soothed by Elrohir. His legs were smeared with the healing potion prepared by the twin.  Elrond sewed the last stitch into Celos’ breast.  He knotted off the thread and held it out for Elrohir to cut off with his dagger.     

Elrond sat back onto his heels, stretching his back and neck after working hunched over on the floor of the stables for so long. 

Aradol dipped a towel into a bucket of fresh water and then wrung it out before handing it to Lord Elrond.  “Here, Hîr nín, use this to cleanse your hands.”

Elrond looked up gratefully to his stable master and accepted the wet towel.  “Celos should be watched carefully tonight, Aradol.”

“Of course, Hîr nín, I shall stay with him myself.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow at the interruption but did not chastise the stable master, for he recognized the tension that this day had brought to all of them.  “Thank you, Aradol.  Please do not hesitate to send for me should he had any signs of distress.”

The sweet tinkle of Asfaloth’s bridle bells could be heard as Glorfindel rode into yards.

Elrohir’s hopeful eyes met his father’s.  “Perhaps he has word of Estel…”

“Let us go see,” replied Elrond carefully.  If Glorfindel did not have word of Estel, he did not want to dash Elrohir’s hopes just yet.

Glorfindel rode straight up to the last homely house, jumped from Asfaloth’s back and ran inside.  Within moments he was out and heading for the stables.  He was just reaching the doors when Elrond and Elrohir emerged.  He could not help but see the hopeful look on Elrohir’s face and smiled at the twin.

“Glorfindel?” questioned Elrohir hesitantly.

When Elrond saw the smile on Glorfindel’s face his heart leapt with joy, but he also noted the wary look in his friend’s eye.

“Estel is found,” said Glorfindel without preamble, “but his arm is badly broken.  The large bone of the lower arm has broken through the skin.”

Elrohir was relieved and alarmed all at the same time.   He was thrilled to hear that his little brother lived, but the fact that his arm was so badly broken, and the thought of how it might have happened was troubling.”

“Was there still warmth to the arm below the injury?” asked Elrond, fearful that the circulation to the arm might have been compromised by the severity of the break.

“I do not know,” admitted Glorfindel.  “I did not get a chance to touch the arm.  However, I can tell you that the break is jagged and that Estel is covered in mud.  He had fallen into the Bruinen from what I could see.”

Elrond’s heart lurched at that bit of information.  He knew all too well how easily he might have lost his youngest that day.  That Estel survived the raging waters was a miracle in itself.

Elrohir’s face had lost all its color at Glorfindel’s news of Estel falling into the river.

“Come with me, Elrohir,” said Elrond quickly.  “Let us go prepare.  We must bathe and change our clothes quickly so that we will be ready to work on Estel.”

“I have already alerted Sariboril and Erestor.  Sariboril is preparing the surgery and Erestor is preparing the baths and plenty of hot water,” added Glorfindel. 

Besides Lord Elrond, Sariboril was the most experienced healer in Imladris.  She had lived and worked at Imladris through many years and was the indisputable head of the house of healing.  These days Lord Elrond generally only worked as healer for the family, allowing Sariboril to manage and maintain the main healing wing on the first floor, which she did with the disposition of a general.  Few dared to cross Sariboril.

“Glorfindel, have Elladan take Estel to the family surgery. Elrohir and I will meet him there as soon as we are as clean as possible,” said Elrond. The trio walked quickly across the lawn.  “Did you see any other injuries to Estel?”

“There appeared to be several scratches and cuts to his skin, but I was unable to determine the number and extent because of the mud.  He was shivering as well, though Elladan had him wrapped in his cloak.”

As he listened to Glorfindel’s report, Elrond was nodding thoughtfully, a frown on his face.  He was mentally running over the possible problems Estel could be facing from the fractured arm as well as the probable contamination of the site.

O-o-O-o-O

A whimper escaped from Estel. 

“I have to slow down,” groaned Elladan.  He quickly slowed Celon back to a walk.  “Estel is in too much pain if I jostle him, but I want to get him Ada as quickly as possible.”  He looked helplessly at his friend.

Legolas paced him.   “It’s all right, Elladan, let Celon walk.  You’re making good time and we are almost there.  I know you’re frustrated, but keep concentrating on keeping Estel still and as warm as possible.”

“I will,” agreed the twin.  “He’s just so hurt and I want to get him to Ada.”

“I know you do,” soothed Legolas.  “Glorfindel will have gotten back to Imladris by now and Lord Elrond will be prepared.”

Elladan nodded, and kept watching Estel for signs of shock. 

“Is he still conscious?” questioned the prince.

“I think so,” answered the twin.  “Estel?  Stay awake, tithen pen…stay with me.”

Estel’s eyes fluttered as he tried to focus on his brother’s face.  “Cold, Dan.”

Legolas swiftly pulled off his tunic and maneuvered towards Celon.  “Here,” he said, tucking the tunic around Estel’s legs.

“Is that better, Estel?” asked Elladan.

Estel nodded.  “I’m sorry, Dan…”

“What, Estel?” asked the twin.  Even with his elven hearing he was unable to make out what the child was saying.

 “Sorry…Celos…”  Estel’s voice trailed off as his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Estel?  Estel!” called Elladan.  “He’s unconscious, Legolas.  We have to move, now.”  Without waiting for Legolas to answer, Elladan spurred Celon into a run.  The trees were beginning to thin, and they were on established trails now that they were closer to Imladris, so the going was much easier and smoother. 

Legolas nodded and matched Elladan’s movements.  He feared that they were running out of time.

O-o-O-o-O

Thranduil had had quite enough of his enforced confinement.  The recall for his warriors had been signaled, so there was obviously no danger.  The king stalked across the room and opened the door.  The two warriors reacted immediately, but after one look at his face, simply saluted and stood back as their sovereign exited the room.  Thranduil sighed slightly as the pair fell into step behind him. 

Turning back, he fixed the pair with an imperial look.  “I will not have Lord Elrond insulted by my guards in his own home.  You will cease following me.”

The two guards halted and looked at each other.  They were obviously in a somewhat of a quandary, torn between the orders of their king and those of their superior officer.  The king’s orders, of course, took precedence over all others, but Falathar could also make their lives miserable.

Thranduil’s legendary temper was beginning to simmer. Enough was enough.  “I am your king. If Falathar has a problem with those orders, you may tell him to see me.  Leave me!”

There was no mistaking the tenor of their king’s voice.  The two guards each took a knee, moving their right arm across their heart in salute, and then rose and left their monarch.  They would report to Falathar and let him deal with the king for neither of them had any wish to test the boundary of Thranduil’s displeasure.

TBC

Translations:

Hîr nín – My Lord

Tithen pen – Little One

Pen-nîn tithen – My little one