A/N: I've been awful about updating this, haven't I? I didn't actually mean
to continue it, but I got all these ideas... Still, this is probably going
to be the last chapter, although it's not really an ending.
Anyway, in the chapter, Bilbo meets a 10 year old Aragorn.
* * * * *
Bilbo sighed, stretching his legs out before him. Who could've guessed that there were places like this, outside the Shire? The chirping birdsong, the gentle breeze, the relaxing peace, the gentle quiet...
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"
...the ear-splitting screams.
Bilbo barely had time to blink before a small, bony, extremely muddy creature fell almost directly into his lap, disturbing his pipe and scattering it's contents all over the grass. The child, for that's what it had to be (could any other creature be so dirty, and utterly unconcerned about getting hurt?), was soon followed by an adult Elf, springing over the wall with an athletic grace, avoiding the tree (and therefore Bilbo) that the child had attempted to use to get down by.
"I am sorry." Th Elf brushed raven-black hair from his shoulders, tossing it down over his back. "I hope he didn't disturb you too much."
"Of course not, no, no," Well, that wasn't entirely true, but, "Who was he?"
"My foster brother, Estel. He's not actually Elf, you see. He's human."
"Aaah." Bilbo paused, contemplating the child who was now disappearing round the end of a flowering hedge. "What's he running for?"
"We're trying to give him a bath."
"He is rather muddy."
"Yes. But Elrohir, my brother, is round there, and should catch him. He's got to come to the banquet, you see."
"Oh yes. The one tonight?"
"Unfortunately."
"Why unfortunately?"
"Because we've been chasing him all morning, and are beginning to run out of time."
"Oh dear." A distant shriek was heard from some other area of the garden. "Was that him?"
"It sounds like Elrohir's got him, but he might not have for long."
"Does he not like being clean?"
"He doesn't like baths. Or dressing appropriately, and we've got to do that too." The Elf seemed quite dismal at that prospect. "He's allowed a fair bit of freedom, and he's become rather...uncivilised."
"Ah, well. He is only....."
"10."
"Still quite young." A second Elf appeared round the hedge, half-dragging half-carrying the obviously reluctant child.
"What's his name again?"
"Estel."
"Oh." Bilbo could now see the child in question more clearly, and could make out darkly coloured hair and blue eyes beneath a thick layer of mud. His hair, Bilbo supposed, could've originally been blond, but had turned brown with all the muck. His clothes were battered and torn, his legging revealing grazed knees and purpling bruises. Bilbo did most definitely not envy these two Elves the task of making him presentable within a few hours.
"It's just quite hard, you see. It's been a long time since there were any other children in Rivendell, and Estel seems to be more...rambunctious than I can remember them being. And my father, his foster father...he's a lore- master, you see, and not very...experienced in child-rearing. My mother did most of it, really. My father's always so busy." The Elf's tone was quite apologetic, as if trying to explain why the child was in this state.
"What about his mother?"
"Visiting kin, at the moment. Not that she does anything to discipline him...says it's natural, that he's just being a child...which he is, but..." The child broke free and made a break for it across the lawn..."Elven children at least let you wash them," as the child was recaptured and slung over his kidnappers shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried the last few feet towards Bilbo and the Elf.
"Shall we go then?" Asked the second Elf, Elrohir, the other had said his name was.
The other Elf turned and bowed to Bilbo. "It was a pleasure talking with you. Hopefully we shall meet again." He turned to follow his brother, whom Bilbo noticed was completely identical to him in every respect. The Elf paused, before turning. "And...I am sorry he disturbed your peace."
"It's quite all right. Good day!"
With thoughts of the banquet to come fresh in his mind, Bilbo drifted once more into a contented doze.
* * * * *
"So, who was he?"
"You have to ask?" Elladan a comb through messed hair, ignoring the outraged 'ow!' of protest and successfully extracting several twigs, leaves, and several things he did not want to identify.
Elrohir tipped another pail of water over Estel, rinsing off the last traces of mud. "The hobbit that came with the dwarves. What's his name, Hildo?"
"Bilbo, you fool," Giving another yank with the comb.
"Ow!"
"What's he wearing, anyway?"
"Father said he'd leave something out."
"I'm not wearing it!"
"I hope it's the right size, he doesn't exactly see Estel often, does he?"
"For lessons."
"I don't want to go to the banquet, I want to play by the river! Please?"
"Estel! You have to. It's not a choice. You can play by the river tomorrow."
"Can I ask - if you were playing by the river, how on Earth did you get so muddy? I would've thought that playing by the river might've left you slightly less dirty than normal."
Estel gave Elrohir a look suggesting he thought him deeply stupid. "I was playing in the copse, and then you chased me everywhere. I would've played by the river, if you hadn't done ow! Stop it!"
"Fine. I reckon you're about as clean as you'll get by now, so you might as well get out."
"Thank you," Estel replied, still glaring, and sounding astonishingly sarcastic for one so young.
"Now," said Elladan, hauling Estel out of the tub. "What to wear?"
"I'm not wearing it."
* * * * *
Estel glared round at the assembled company, all dressed in their finest and talking about the most amazingly boring things. Even Gandalf was being boring - so far there had been no sign of his famous fireworks, or anything else that went 'bang'.
And why couldn't he have gone with his mother? He liked the Dunedain. But no. He had to stay here. For his lessons. Was there anything more boring than history?
At least he had his sword lessons with Elladan and Elrohir. Even if they wouldn't allow him a proper sword, one made of metal, it was fun. And he was definitely getting better! And he had beaten Glorfindel! Though, Elrohir did say that Glorfindel let him win...
A light caught the fine crystal decanter jug in front of him, sparkling into a glinting rainbow of colour. The next moment, however, Elladan leaned forward, blocking the light and ending the shine of colour.
Estel leaned forward, set on repositioning the jug to re-catch the light. Kneeling up on his chair, he seized the jug with both hands, twisting it slightly, dragging it towards himself. Only to find that his knees, encased in unusually fine linen, slid on the soft velvet chair beneath them, sending Estel to the floor with the jug and several platters following closely after.
Oops.
Estel was pretty sure Elrond would not be happy. Yes, the beautiful jug was only slightly chipped, but Estel knew Elrond's fondness for over-reacting to the slightest accidents...like that time he accidentally tripped that visiting dignitary into one of the many rivers streaming through Rivendell. He hadn't been hurt, and it was a hot day, but for some reason neither he nor Elrond saw it like that.
Amid the yelps and cries from above, he heard one voice he knew only too well. "Estel!"
* * * * *
Thank you to every one who reviewed so much! I would respond to each of you individually, but that would hold me up even more, and as hectic as my life has been, I'm not sure if this would ever get posted!
Anyway, in the chapter, Bilbo meets a 10 year old Aragorn.
* * * * *
Bilbo sighed, stretching his legs out before him. Who could've guessed that there were places like this, outside the Shire? The chirping birdsong, the gentle breeze, the relaxing peace, the gentle quiet...
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"
...the ear-splitting screams.
Bilbo barely had time to blink before a small, bony, extremely muddy creature fell almost directly into his lap, disturbing his pipe and scattering it's contents all over the grass. The child, for that's what it had to be (could any other creature be so dirty, and utterly unconcerned about getting hurt?), was soon followed by an adult Elf, springing over the wall with an athletic grace, avoiding the tree (and therefore Bilbo) that the child had attempted to use to get down by.
"I am sorry." Th Elf brushed raven-black hair from his shoulders, tossing it down over his back. "I hope he didn't disturb you too much."
"Of course not, no, no," Well, that wasn't entirely true, but, "Who was he?"
"My foster brother, Estel. He's not actually Elf, you see. He's human."
"Aaah." Bilbo paused, contemplating the child who was now disappearing round the end of a flowering hedge. "What's he running for?"
"We're trying to give him a bath."
"He is rather muddy."
"Yes. But Elrohir, my brother, is round there, and should catch him. He's got to come to the banquet, you see."
"Oh yes. The one tonight?"
"Unfortunately."
"Why unfortunately?"
"Because we've been chasing him all morning, and are beginning to run out of time."
"Oh dear." A distant shriek was heard from some other area of the garden. "Was that him?"
"It sounds like Elrohir's got him, but he might not have for long."
"Does he not like being clean?"
"He doesn't like baths. Or dressing appropriately, and we've got to do that too." The Elf seemed quite dismal at that prospect. "He's allowed a fair bit of freedom, and he's become rather...uncivilised."
"Ah, well. He is only....."
"10."
"Still quite young." A second Elf appeared round the hedge, half-dragging half-carrying the obviously reluctant child.
"What's his name again?"
"Estel."
"Oh." Bilbo could now see the child in question more clearly, and could make out darkly coloured hair and blue eyes beneath a thick layer of mud. His hair, Bilbo supposed, could've originally been blond, but had turned brown with all the muck. His clothes were battered and torn, his legging revealing grazed knees and purpling bruises. Bilbo did most definitely not envy these two Elves the task of making him presentable within a few hours.
"It's just quite hard, you see. It's been a long time since there were any other children in Rivendell, and Estel seems to be more...rambunctious than I can remember them being. And my father, his foster father...he's a lore- master, you see, and not very...experienced in child-rearing. My mother did most of it, really. My father's always so busy." The Elf's tone was quite apologetic, as if trying to explain why the child was in this state.
"What about his mother?"
"Visiting kin, at the moment. Not that she does anything to discipline him...says it's natural, that he's just being a child...which he is, but..." The child broke free and made a break for it across the lawn..."Elven children at least let you wash them," as the child was recaptured and slung over his kidnappers shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried the last few feet towards Bilbo and the Elf.
"Shall we go then?" Asked the second Elf, Elrohir, the other had said his name was.
The other Elf turned and bowed to Bilbo. "It was a pleasure talking with you. Hopefully we shall meet again." He turned to follow his brother, whom Bilbo noticed was completely identical to him in every respect. The Elf paused, before turning. "And...I am sorry he disturbed your peace."
"It's quite all right. Good day!"
With thoughts of the banquet to come fresh in his mind, Bilbo drifted once more into a contented doze.
* * * * *
"So, who was he?"
"You have to ask?" Elladan a comb through messed hair, ignoring the outraged 'ow!' of protest and successfully extracting several twigs, leaves, and several things he did not want to identify.
Elrohir tipped another pail of water over Estel, rinsing off the last traces of mud. "The hobbit that came with the dwarves. What's his name, Hildo?"
"Bilbo, you fool," Giving another yank with the comb.
"Ow!"
"What's he wearing, anyway?"
"Father said he'd leave something out."
"I'm not wearing it!"
"I hope it's the right size, he doesn't exactly see Estel often, does he?"
"For lessons."
"I don't want to go to the banquet, I want to play by the river! Please?"
"Estel! You have to. It's not a choice. You can play by the river tomorrow."
"Can I ask - if you were playing by the river, how on Earth did you get so muddy? I would've thought that playing by the river might've left you slightly less dirty than normal."
Estel gave Elrohir a look suggesting he thought him deeply stupid. "I was playing in the copse, and then you chased me everywhere. I would've played by the river, if you hadn't done ow! Stop it!"
"Fine. I reckon you're about as clean as you'll get by now, so you might as well get out."
"Thank you," Estel replied, still glaring, and sounding astonishingly sarcastic for one so young.
"Now," said Elladan, hauling Estel out of the tub. "What to wear?"
"I'm not wearing it."
* * * * *
Estel glared round at the assembled company, all dressed in their finest and talking about the most amazingly boring things. Even Gandalf was being boring - so far there had been no sign of his famous fireworks, or anything else that went 'bang'.
And why couldn't he have gone with his mother? He liked the Dunedain. But no. He had to stay here. For his lessons. Was there anything more boring than history?
At least he had his sword lessons with Elladan and Elrohir. Even if they wouldn't allow him a proper sword, one made of metal, it was fun. And he was definitely getting better! And he had beaten Glorfindel! Though, Elrohir did say that Glorfindel let him win...
A light caught the fine crystal decanter jug in front of him, sparkling into a glinting rainbow of colour. The next moment, however, Elladan leaned forward, blocking the light and ending the shine of colour.
Estel leaned forward, set on repositioning the jug to re-catch the light. Kneeling up on his chair, he seized the jug with both hands, twisting it slightly, dragging it towards himself. Only to find that his knees, encased in unusually fine linen, slid on the soft velvet chair beneath them, sending Estel to the floor with the jug and several platters following closely after.
Oops.
Estel was pretty sure Elrond would not be happy. Yes, the beautiful jug was only slightly chipped, but Estel knew Elrond's fondness for over-reacting to the slightest accidents...like that time he accidentally tripped that visiting dignitary into one of the many rivers streaming through Rivendell. He hadn't been hurt, and it was a hot day, but for some reason neither he nor Elrond saw it like that.
Amid the yelps and cries from above, he heard one voice he knew only too well. "Estel!"
* * * * *
Thank you to every one who reviewed so much! I would respond to each of you individually, but that would hold me up even more, and as hectic as my life has been, I'm not sure if this would ever get posted!