An ear piercing shriek shattered the quiet stillness of the last
Homely House. Erestor jumped up from his seat, upsetting a bottle of
his best ink. Cursing softly, he rushed out into the hall and turned
towards the noise.
Wild giggling laughter preceded the pounding of small feet racing
down the hall. Estel came skidding around the corner, nearly falling
as he slid across the floor before regaining purchase. His eyes were
bright with laughter and he ran for all he was worth.
“Come back here you little yrch!” Arwen’s voice followed. The lady
herself came tearing around the corner, her skirt hiked up to her
knees. She slipped as well but from the soft soles of her shoes. With
a growl worthy of Glorfindel, she kicked the offending garments off
and continued her pursuit.
Estel paused at the other end of the hall, put his thumbs in his
ears, wiggling his fingers and stuck out his tongue at the pursuing
she-elf. Then he turned, shook his bottom and bolted away.
Erestor reached out and caught hold of the lady as she passed him.
Fire burned in her eyes and she glared fiercely at him
“Let. Me. Go.” she snarled.
“Hirilen what is the problem?” he questioned gently, careful not to
anger her further. She was most formidable when angry, just as her
father was.
“What is the problem? The PROBLEM is that little… MONSTER!” she
screeched.
“What did he do?” Erestor asked again in a quiet voice.
“Oh… let me show you what the little brat did,” she grabbed her
tutor’s hand and pulled him to her chambers. Throwing open the doors,
she stepped aside to let Erestor through.
“By the Valar,” he whispered.
Everything was covered in mud and soot, from bedclothes to window
dressings, chairs to tables and bed. Not an inch had been spared.
Small little footprints identified the culprit. Erestor turned back to
Arwen and saw her eyes shimmering with tears.
“Everything is RUINED!” she suddenly cried, stomping into the room
and sitting on her chaise.
“Oh Arwen,” Erestor breathed, “I’m so sorry.”
She looked up and held out a pile of white clothe. Tiny delicate
silver stitching was marred by sooty fingerprints. It was at that
point that the tears started to slide down her face.
“Ada’s Begetting Day present,” she whispered, “I worked so hard on
it, Erestor, and that little brat… oh when I get my hands on him,
he’ll get the spanking he so richly deserves.”
“Come Arwen,” Erestor said, pulling her to her feet and setting the
fabric aside. “We will speak to Elrond about the child. Clearly, he
has too much free time and his nurses are lax if he is able to get
into this mischief.”
“Why does he only do it to me Erestor?” she asked.
“Who can understand the logic of a child,” Erestor smiled, “I most
certainly cannot.”
Though he confessed ignorance, the councilor had a pretty good idea
why Estel tortured Arwen the way he did.
Estel slipped around a corner again when Erestor and Arwen left her
chambers. He sniffled and rubbed a grimy hand across his face. She
didn’t chase him any more. He sadly walked into her room and looked
about. A deep feeling of guilt, too large for a child of his size,
gripped him. Arwen didn’t do anything with him anymore. No more books
at night, no more picnics and no more swimming. All she did was hang
out with those bigger Ellyn. She barely spoke to him any more.
It wasn’t right to make her cry, but he’d just wanted her to be his
friend again. He wanted her to spend time with him and play with him
like she used to. Brushing another hand over his face and wiping away
tears, he looked around the room. Then, quick like an elf, he went in
search of cleaning supplies.
“WHAT is going on here?” Elrond demanded from the doorway.
Estel jumped from where he stood, trying to sweep up the mud and
soot. His little body shook as he clung to the broom in the face of
his ada’s wrath. Arwen and Erestor stood behind him, their eyes wide
with shock.
“WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME?” she demanded, her hands
clenched into fists. The mess was worse than before.
“I... I… tried… to… clean it… up… I sorry Awen,” he cried.
“You do this all the time,” she said, marching into the room,
leaving a space between her father and Erestor, “All the time you
wreck my things and I don’t understand it. Why are you being such a
monster to me?”
“You don’t play with me no more!” Estel cried dropping the broom
and streaking out the door. He paused long enough to add one more
thing, “You only yell and yell and … and… no more books… or picnics…
or NOTHING. You don’t love me no more!”
Estel ran before the shocked elves could do more than stare at the
space where he’d been. Arwen collapsed to the floor, staring out the
door.
“Not love him?” she whispered, “How can he THINK such a thing?”
Erestor nodded to Elrond.
“You deal with her,” he advised, “I shall search for Estel.”
“Good idea.” Elrond agreed. Soon Erestor was moving swiftly through
the halls and Elrond was pulling his daughter to her feet and sitting
her on the bed.
“Why would he say that Ada?” she asked. “Of course I love him
despite what he does.”
“Arwen,” Elrond said gently, “Estel is six years old, very young
for a human. You are 37. You used to spend a great deal of time with
him. Now you don’t, this is all he knows.”
“Oh Ada,” she sighed, understanding clear in her eyes, Then tears
streamed down her face once more as she looked around her chambers,
“He even tried to clean up his mess.”
“Estel is a good boy with a kind heart, but he is still a child
with a child’s temper and a child’s ability to control that temper.”
Elrond said, “Attention, ANY attention, was better than none to him,
even if it meant you were angry with him.”
“I was furious,” she said, “I wanted to spank him I was so mad.”
“Understandably, now we must make things right for all involved…
including Estel. We are all he has.”
“Yes Ada,” she smiled.
Erestor was beginning to get frantic. He could not find Estel
anywhere. He’d checked every corner of the house he could possibly
think of. He breathed as sigh of relief when he saw Glorfindel lying
beneath a tree in the gardens. He was curled facing away from the path
and Erestor could see a book in his hand. His deep voice was low and
gentle, a steady tempo meant to sooth. He glanced over his shoulder as
Erestor approached.
“Glorfindel have you…” he stopped speaking when a long finger
pressed against perfect full lips. Raising an eyebrow he waited for an
explanation.
Slowly Glorfindel rolled, carrying something with him. Erestor
gasped. That something turned out to be a still very filthy and
utterly exhausted Estel. The child was curled up on the warrior’s
chest now, dried mud and soot smearing over his warm yellow tunic.
Tiny dirty fingers tightly gripped Glorfindel’s golden locks and the
Balrog Slayer didn’t seem to care. His hand lightly stroked down
Estel’s back as the child started fussing in his sleep. Erestor could
see the many tear tracks on his grubby face. A shuddering sigh shook
his little body.
“How long has he been here?” Erestor questioned softly, lowering
himself to sit by them.
“Since early this afternoon,” Glorfindel answered, keeping his
voice the same, “He was most upset and the story was disjointed but I
got the gist of it. We talked and then I got a book and here we are.
He is under the impression that none of us, save I, love him anymore.”
“He loves us and we have been neglecting him,” Erestor said,
“Leaving him with nurses and such when we used to take care of him
ourselves. In a sense, we are all to blame.”
“Aye,” Glorfindel answered. “But resolutions can wait for another
time. He is exhausted and I would have him sleep a bit more.”
The next day,
“Lady Arwen! Lady Arwen!” a young ellon approached the lady as she
walked with Estel. Arwen smiled when she felt the child’s hand tense
in hers.
“Good afternoon Anarion,” she smiled politely as he bowed.
“I was wondering if you would care to join me for a ride?” he
asked, barely glancing at Estel.
“I would love to Anarion,” she said, gripping Estel’s hand when he
would pull it from hers and run, “but I’m afraid I cannot. Estel and I
are going for a walk in the gardens.”
“Estel and… “ Anarion glanced down at the human child. “Oh… well
then perhaps another time.”
“Yes perhaps,” she smiled and then glanced down at Estel, “Shall we
pen neth?”
“Yes!” he beamed and they ran down the path to their favorite tree.
Arwen opened the book as Estel carefully set out their picnic. Once
all was set, he curled against her side.
“Once upon a time there was a great golden warrior…“ she began.
“Amin mela lle Arwen,” Estel said softly.
“Mela lle Estel,” she whispered, placing a kiss upon his crown.
FINI
