Healing Hope

Chapter Seventeen

Grief Delayed for Joy

“There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.” Aeschylus

Legolas and Thranduil, accompanied by a host of Mirkwood guards, followed Estel to his third floor room. When the child hesitated at the door, Legolas knelt down beside Estel, his clear, blue eyes searching the clouded silver ones.

“What is it, Estel?”

Estel seemed almost to draw into himself, ashamed to show his fear before his new friend. “It’s dark,” he reluctantly admitted.

Erestor normally saw to the lighting of sconces on the walls of the third floor hallway and in Estel’s room, but he had been delayed by all the brouhaha in the Hall of Fire, so the floor remained in shadows.

Hearing the child’s softly spoken confession, Thranduil stepped in as only Thranduil could do.

“Falathar!”

Falathar quickly moved forward and took a knee. “Yes, sire?”

“I am the King of Mirkwood. Why am I being forced to walk through darkened halls? You know I don’t like the dark.”

Estel’s eyes widened when he heard the king’s last remark, and he quickly looked into Legolas’ smiling face. “Do kings get afraid of the dark sometimes too?” he whispered.

Legolas’ smile widened as the glanced up to his father and then back down to the child. “It appears they do.”

Falathar had to force the smile from his face as he realized his king’s game. “I shall see to it immediately, Sire.”

Within moments the hallway and Estel’s room danced to the flickering of torches as Estel proudly led the king and Legolas into his room.

The first thing that drew the king’s eye was the massive fireplace that had been added to the child’s room. It seemed incongruous for an elven bedroom to require such a thing, but Thranduil reminded himself that Imladris was often host to many races requiring added warmth. The next thing that attracted the king’s eye was the shelf full of toys near the bed.

The headboard on the bed was a beautifully carved hunting scene that no doubt brought visions of glorious adventures to the mind of its small occupant. There was a scattering of books and toys on the floor, but that only added to the cozy, childlike atmosphere of the room. Thranduil was thoroughly entranced by it all.

The king would only allow Falathar and two other warriors inside the child’s room, so Falathar dispersed the rest to the hallway, the balcony outside and a loose perimeter picket in the trees around the house. He specifically assigned a loose picket so as not to cause offense to Helcar or his guards. Falathar had noticed that the guards on the grounds of Imladris did not stand duty in the trees, so he hoped that his warriors would generally go unnoticed. If not, it could not be helped. He was a warrior, not a diplomat, and the king’s safety was his primary concern.

Estel crawled awkwardly onto the bed, taking care not to jostle his cast. The weight of it in the sling was beginning to irritate the back of his neck and shoulders, and he shrugged irritably at it. Legolas noticed and moved to untie the sling.

“Here, tithen pen, let me undo this. It must be getting heavy.”

Estel obligingly leaned towards Legolas to allow him access to the back of the sling.

“Adar, would you look in the bureau for Estel’s sleeping tunic and leggings?”

“It’s the top drawer,” piped in Estel, stretching his shoulders as he relished the freedom from the sling.

Thranduil could not help but smile as he looked in the drawer for the items of clothing. It had been many centuries since he had handled clothing so small and it brought back treasured memories of Legolas at this size. Estel’s sleeping tunic was a soft, cream colored material onto which someone had lovingly stitched a rabbit. The king could not help but run his finger over the precise stitches as the vision surfaced of his wife sewing small clothes as they waited for the much anticipated birth of their son. Shaking the vision from his mind, he quickly retrieved the warm brown leggings that matched the stitching of the rabbit and carried them back to the bed.

“Allow me,” he said, when Legolas reached for the clothing. “It has been too long since I have dressed one so small.”

Legolas obligingly scooted over and allowed the king access to Estel, who was suddenly shy to find himself the center of attention. He glanced over to Falathar and his warriors who had taken seats on the floor in the corner of the room and were trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Thranduil noticed the glance and easily moved himself into position to block Estel’s view of the warriors and make himself the focus of the child. The king unfastened the clasps holding the sleeve over the cast. “This is very ingenious.”

“What’s in-jean-us?” asked Estel. His Ada used big words like that, and he loved to ask about them and learn them.

“It means that it is very smart and makes it much easier to remove your tunic, does it not?” smiled the king.

Thranduil noted the numerous healing cuts, scratches, and bruises that adorned the chest and stomach of Estel and was sobered at the visual reminder of the child’s mortality. A sudden cold hand clutched his heart as he realized the child’s fate and wondered at the wisdom of allowing Legolas to become so attached to one who would inevitably leave him grieving.

As though reading his Adar’s thoughts, Legolas reached out to touch his father’s hand. When the king met his son’s eyes, Legolas nodded and smiled relaying the message that he gladly accepted the later grief for the joy of knowing this one now.

A small shiver ran down Estel’s frame and Thranduil quickly moved to slip the soft creamy top over his head. This one had not been refitted to fit the cast, so it took a bit of maneuvering, much to Legolas’ amusement, to get it on. Once the top was finally in place, both Estel and Thranduil heaved sighs of relief.

“Now for the leggings,” said the king. “Lie back and I’ll pull those off.”

Estel giggled as the king pulled off his leggings, managing to tickle his toes in the process. As he stopped giggling, his stomach growled loudly, bringing a frown to Thranduil and Legolas’ faces.

“What was that?” asked the king, as he slid on Estel’s leggings.

“I don’t know,” replied Legolas, equally puzzled.

As if on cue, Erestor tapped on the door and then opened it. He carried a tray filled with breads, cheeses, a variety of fruit, and some meat. The meat, of course, was for Estel, since Erestor was well aware of the dietary needs of the growing child. There was also a mug of milk for the boy to drink. “I see you are ready for bed, tithen pen.”

“Restor!” beamed Estel. “My tummy is talking to me.”

“Oh,” replied the Seneschal, “and what does it say.”

“That I’m hungry,” answered Estel. “We never got to eat!”

“I know,” said Erestor, “that is why I brought enough for everyone.

“Erestor,” said Legolas urgently, “may I speak with you?”

“Certainly Prince Legolas,” replied Erestor calmly. “Is something amiss?”

“Estel’s torso…it rumbled!"

The seneschal smiled fondly at Estel as his stomach made its request known again. “Ah yes, I have heard that quite often.”

“Then it is not…dangerous?” asked the prince incredulously.

“Not unless the young one is not fed. Then he can become quite irritable.” Erestor handed Estel the mug of milk with orders to drink it, and then looked back to Legolas. “An adan requires much more food than we do. When they are hungry, their stomachs make that noise. You will learn that Estel’s stomach rumbles quite often. I have observed that increases in his appetite often precipitate a growth spurt, which then requires the making of new clothes.”

He glanced again at the child and sighed softly, almost wistfully, “Perhaps I should notify the seamstress in the morning.” He quickly made a meat and cheese sandwich and handed it to Estel on a soft cloth. “Eat this, young one, before you become too sleepy.”

“Legolas is going to tell me a story,” said Estel in between bites, “and Ada said he would come see me before I go to sleep.”

Erestor leaned over the bed to kiss the top of Estel’s head. “Your Ada is very busy at the moment, but he will not forget his promise. Enjoy your story, Estel. I will check on you during the night.”

“I told Lord Elrond that I would stay the night with Estel,” said Legolas. “I promise you he will not be alone.”

Erestor dipped his head. “My thanks, young prince, for I am needed…elsewhere.”

“My warriors and I stand ready to offer assistance,” added Thranduil.

“I do not believe that will be necessary, but I will pass along your offer,” replied Erestor. “For now, please eat and rest. There will be food kept ready in the Hall of Fire should any of your warriors wish to eat more.”

Erestor purposefully kept his voice light, but the tension in the room had become palpable and Estel, ever attentive to the elves around him, sensed the change in atmosphere. His face clouded and the sandwich was forgotten. “Restor, I want Ada.”

“Story time,” said Thranduil quickly. “How would like to hear a story about Legolas as an elfling?”

Estel’s interest in the idea of Legolas as an elfling overcame his momentary concern, and he nodded his agreement to the king.

“Very good,” smiled Thranduil. He reached behind him to pick up the yellow blanket from the foot of the bed. “Is this the famous sunshine blanket?”

Estel nodded tiredly as Legolas took his half eaten sandwich, set it aside, and then helped the child to settle back onto his pillow. Thranduil tucked the blanket around him and started his tale.

“When Legolas was an elfling, even smaller than you, he loved his bath time.”

Estel’s eyes widened and he looked at Legolas. “You liked getting a bath?”

Thranduil cleared his throat good naturedly. “As I was saying…Legolas loved his bath. He hated being dirty and insisted on a hot bubble bath every night. Being the doting father that I am…”

“What’s doting?” asked Estel.

Legolas chuckled, and Thranduil raised an imperial eyebrow. Obviously the child did not realize that one did not interrupt a king.

“Doting means that my Adar is very loving and patient,” explained Legolas. He moved to sit with his back against the head board as he idly worked his fingers through Estel’s hair.

From the corner of the room Falathar snorted softly. “Patient, indeed,” he muttered to himself.

This was definitely not going as Thranduil expected. He was very out of practice in dealing with a child…especially one so inquisitive.

“Being a very…loving and patient…father, I often would give Legolas his bath in the evenings. Of course, he would manage to splash water until I was very nearly as wet as he. I would lift a very slippery….” He stopped and fixed Estel with a look. “You know what slippery means, don’t you?”

Estel obligingly nodded his head.

“Good,” nodded the king. “I would lift a very slippery and wet elfling from the tub and set him down beside me. Before I could reach for a drying cloth, he would flee from the room and run naked through my halls with me in pursuit.”

Legolas groaned and rolled his eyes as soft chuckles were heard from the warriors in the corner.

Estel chuckled too at the image created by the king. He turned his head to look up at Legolas. “You were funny.”

“I did not find it very amusing at the time,” sighed Thranduil, “but now I quite enjoy the memory. I would have those days again,” he added softly as he gazed at his son.

The door opened softly and Elrond entered the room. In the corner the warriors came gracefully to their feet as the Elf Lord walked across the room to see his youngest.

“Ada,” Estel yawned, “Legolas likes baths!”

Elrond graced Thranduil and Legolas with a tired smile. Both noted that the smile did not reach his eyes. Thranduil rose to allow Elrond room to sit on the side of the bed.

“Perhaps that is something you could learn as well,” said Elrond as he sat down and pulled Estel into a hug. He kissed the curly hair and then smoothed it back from the child’s forehead as he settled him back onto his pillow. “Sleep well, Estel. The Prince is going to stay with you, but I will be close by should you need me.”

“I love you, Ada.”

“I love you too, Estel,” replied Lord Elrond. He reached over to retrieve the stuffed fluffy from the floor and handed it to Estel, who immediately snuggled it to him with his good arm, his eyes already drooping closed. Elrond continued to smooth back his son’s hair, easing him into sleep with the rhythmic motion.

When he was sure that Estel as asleep, he rose and motioned to Legolas, who quickly joined the Elf Lord by the door.

“Legolas, should Estel awaken with pain in his arm, send for me, and I will prepare a pain draught for him.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Elrond hesitated a moment longer searching the prince’s eyes. “Do not hesitate to send for me, especially if he becomes fearful.”

Thranduil joined the pair. “Trust us to care for your son, Elrond.”

The Elf Lord nodded, and with a last look at the sleeping child, turned and left the room.

Thranduil looked thoughtfully at Legolas. “What evil befell this child to cause such fearfulness? Perhaps it is time you told me the entire story.”

TBC