Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof
*****
"Mumma?" Estel pushed the door open further, enough to enter the room. "Mumma?" he asked again, his fingers curling tighter around the now sweat- drenched thin metal handle in his hand. His breathing caught and each exhalation was painfully loud. Somehow, Estel imagined, the creatures from his dreams hid--beneath the bed? In the closet?--and his noise might alert them. They would come back.
At his mother's bedside Estel lowered the lantern to the ground, wincing at the clink as solid met solid. "Mumma," he whispered again. Gilraen, deep in sleep, neither heard her son nor replied. His eyes were blank as Estel held his hand beneath his mother's nose. For a moment he did not move, feeling layers of worry peel away from him. His muscles relaxed at the knowledge that his mother was safe.
Without another word Estel picked up his lantern and left the room, very carefully closing the door behind him.
To reach his brothers' rooms, Estel would either have a long trek the roundabout way, through a series of corridors, or he could simply cross the courtyard. For quite a long moment he stood in the doorway, enjoying the smell of earth on the night air and shivering only a bit against the cold. He looked up at the full moon and weighed his options.
The problem with childhood is that it is completely without logic. Estel knew that either way he went, fear would follow like a puppy at his heels. In the corridors, he would fear the monsters and feel trapped. Suddenly his heart would feel strain at every beat and he would have difficulty breathing. Running across the courtyard he would imagine attacks from every angle.
Estel took a deep breath, as a swimmer before a great dive, and raced across the courtyard. He held the lantern at his side and it swung about wildly, casting shadows this way and that, changing at every turn. The moon above was full and shed eerie silver light over the plants, not enough to see by but enough to know that something--who could have identified it?-- stood here.
When Estel reached the door to the opposite hall, he stumbled through breathlessly but did not rest. Keeping a tight hold on his lantern, in which an abused flame flickered indignantly, Estel ran not ten yards down the corridor and twisted the doorknob. It would not turn. He tried again but to no avail.
"Elrohir?" No answer came. Estel's heart raced. Why did Elrohir not reply? "Elrohir! Elrohir! Elrohir!" Estel's cries became more and more frantic, increasing steadily in volume as he smashed his fist against the door, a crazed knock. "Elrohir!" Still no response. What was wrong? Estel felt wood slivers embedding themselves in his soft flesh, felt tears wet on his face, felt his throat becoming more and more raw, but these feelings were as removed: something one feels not for himself but in empathy for another.
"Estel?"
Elladan emerged, bleary-eyed and disheveled, from his room across the hall. "Estel, stop!" Not again, not this again, Elladan thought. He lifted Estel, which proved not difficult for an experienced warrior, and held onto him tightly. "Estel, wake up! Elrohir is all right, he has journeyed to Lothlorien, you remember?"
Estel stopped fighting then, but he continued to sob. "It's all right," Elladan promised, stroking his brother's hair, "he is all right, Little One, Elrohir is fine. He is due home tomorrow, remember?" Estel nodded. "Have you seen your mother yet? Yes? Good."
"I want Elrohir," Estel said, wrapping his arms tightly around Elladan's neck. "Elrohir and Ada."
"All right," Elladan acquiesced tiredly. "Ada should look at those splinters, too." Elladan realized his mistake as, his attention drawn suddenly to the injuries, Estel began to whimper. Shifting his brother to hold him with only one hand, Elladan made his way down the corridor to his father's door. "Ada?" he called, knocking, aware that if he had to knock for too long a time Estel would begin to cry again. "Ada!"
"Yes, Elladan, what--oh." Elrond, having raised three children previous, had the uncanny ability to awaken in a second with energy enough for the day ahead. Displaying this useful gift, he took Estel from Elladan. "Here, let me take that lantern. We will light the room properly. Did you have a nightmare?"
"I want Elrohir, Ada," Estel whimpered.
"I know, child, but he cannot be here for another day yet. What happened to your hand? Let me see."
Half an hour later, as Elrond removed the last of Estel's splinters, Elladan leaned against the doorframe to keep from falling down and yawned. Silent tears snaked new paths down Estel's cheeks. "There you are, as good as new. Well, not quite," Elrond amended, bandaging the injured hand, "but now you have an injury in the same place as Elladan. You are practically twins."
Elladan looked at the sprained wrist, the injury which had kept him from visiting Lothlorien with Elrohir. There was an opportunity severely missed, but now Elladan was glad: who could say how long Estel would have continued abusing his hands before someone found him? Elladan grinned weakly at Estel.
"Elladan, why don't you go back to bed? You look very tired."
Taking his father's suggestion, Elladan bade the two a good day, earning a wry chuckle from Elrond and a tearfully confused look from Estel. When Elladan had gone, Elrond cuddled Estel until the boy no longer cried. "All right now?" Elrond asked, gently peeling clumps of hair dampened by tears away from Estel's face.
"I want Elrohir," Estel answered.
"We all miss Elrohir," Elrond agreed, "but he will be home tomorrow."
This comforted Estel, but only a little. "I saw monsters in my head, Ada."
A strange look came upon Elrond's face. "I know, child. I am very sorry."
"Make them go away!" the boy pleaded, throwing himself on the mercy of the elven lord.
But Elrond did not despair. "There may be a way to do just that," he said, and Estel looked up again with hope. "Can you stay here alone for a moment?" Estel shook his head no. "Come with me then."
The corridors remained frightening, but Estel clung tightly to Elrond's hand and kept close to the elf to dispel his fears. Elrond sat Estel on his bed and searched through his closet. Estel watched with interest as Elrond knocked things off hangers. Once he even swore. Estel told him so. "If you can swear, does that mean I can swear?" he wanted to know.
"Absolutely not! Cheeky fellow," Elrond muttered, causing Estel to giggle. At last he emerged from the closet. "This is for you," he said, proffering an object. Estel took it, and Elrond sat beside him on the bed. With Elrond beside him Estel felt sheltered, but also very small. He fingered the toy but said nothing, sensing an explanation coming. "I was given that by someone as a child."
"Who?" Estel wanted to know.
"A woman who looked after me when my own ada and mother could not be there." Elrond watched as Estel ran his hands over the entire surface of the bear, as though he could feel the stains better than see them. Somehow the pure white truth of the bear's colour remained, his black button eyes still shining. The threads forming his nose and mouth had much faded but were still visible. The toy seemed almost ragged, and Elrond wondered if he had made a mistake, if it did not belong put away somewhere.
"He can protect me," Estel said. "When the monsters come, he will fight them off. A great white bear. A giant! He is, isn't he Ada? He will look after me."
"Yes, Estel."
"What is he called?" Estel asked.
Elrond admitted to never having named him. Estel looked contemplatively at the bear, considered, then answered, "Faramir."
"Faramir?" Elrond wondered, why does he name the bear 'adequate jewel'?
"Jewel of the hunt," Estel answered proudly. "My Faramir."
*****
The end
Author's note: There is some question as to the meaning of the name Faramir. 'Far' may refer to 'adequate' but 'fara' to 'hunting.'
*****
"Mumma?" Estel pushed the door open further, enough to enter the room. "Mumma?" he asked again, his fingers curling tighter around the now sweat- drenched thin metal handle in his hand. His breathing caught and each exhalation was painfully loud. Somehow, Estel imagined, the creatures from his dreams hid--beneath the bed? In the closet?--and his noise might alert them. They would come back.
At his mother's bedside Estel lowered the lantern to the ground, wincing at the clink as solid met solid. "Mumma," he whispered again. Gilraen, deep in sleep, neither heard her son nor replied. His eyes were blank as Estel held his hand beneath his mother's nose. For a moment he did not move, feeling layers of worry peel away from him. His muscles relaxed at the knowledge that his mother was safe.
Without another word Estel picked up his lantern and left the room, very carefully closing the door behind him.
To reach his brothers' rooms, Estel would either have a long trek the roundabout way, through a series of corridors, or he could simply cross the courtyard. For quite a long moment he stood in the doorway, enjoying the smell of earth on the night air and shivering only a bit against the cold. He looked up at the full moon and weighed his options.
The problem with childhood is that it is completely without logic. Estel knew that either way he went, fear would follow like a puppy at his heels. In the corridors, he would fear the monsters and feel trapped. Suddenly his heart would feel strain at every beat and he would have difficulty breathing. Running across the courtyard he would imagine attacks from every angle.
Estel took a deep breath, as a swimmer before a great dive, and raced across the courtyard. He held the lantern at his side and it swung about wildly, casting shadows this way and that, changing at every turn. The moon above was full and shed eerie silver light over the plants, not enough to see by but enough to know that something--who could have identified it?-- stood here.
When Estel reached the door to the opposite hall, he stumbled through breathlessly but did not rest. Keeping a tight hold on his lantern, in which an abused flame flickered indignantly, Estel ran not ten yards down the corridor and twisted the doorknob. It would not turn. He tried again but to no avail.
"Elrohir?" No answer came. Estel's heart raced. Why did Elrohir not reply? "Elrohir! Elrohir! Elrohir!" Estel's cries became more and more frantic, increasing steadily in volume as he smashed his fist against the door, a crazed knock. "Elrohir!" Still no response. What was wrong? Estel felt wood slivers embedding themselves in his soft flesh, felt tears wet on his face, felt his throat becoming more and more raw, but these feelings were as removed: something one feels not for himself but in empathy for another.
"Estel?"
Elladan emerged, bleary-eyed and disheveled, from his room across the hall. "Estel, stop!" Not again, not this again, Elladan thought. He lifted Estel, which proved not difficult for an experienced warrior, and held onto him tightly. "Estel, wake up! Elrohir is all right, he has journeyed to Lothlorien, you remember?"
Estel stopped fighting then, but he continued to sob. "It's all right," Elladan promised, stroking his brother's hair, "he is all right, Little One, Elrohir is fine. He is due home tomorrow, remember?" Estel nodded. "Have you seen your mother yet? Yes? Good."
"I want Elrohir," Estel said, wrapping his arms tightly around Elladan's neck. "Elrohir and Ada."
"All right," Elladan acquiesced tiredly. "Ada should look at those splinters, too." Elladan realized his mistake as, his attention drawn suddenly to the injuries, Estel began to whimper. Shifting his brother to hold him with only one hand, Elladan made his way down the corridor to his father's door. "Ada?" he called, knocking, aware that if he had to knock for too long a time Estel would begin to cry again. "Ada!"
"Yes, Elladan, what--oh." Elrond, having raised three children previous, had the uncanny ability to awaken in a second with energy enough for the day ahead. Displaying this useful gift, he took Estel from Elladan. "Here, let me take that lantern. We will light the room properly. Did you have a nightmare?"
"I want Elrohir, Ada," Estel whimpered.
"I know, child, but he cannot be here for another day yet. What happened to your hand? Let me see."
Half an hour later, as Elrond removed the last of Estel's splinters, Elladan leaned against the doorframe to keep from falling down and yawned. Silent tears snaked new paths down Estel's cheeks. "There you are, as good as new. Well, not quite," Elrond amended, bandaging the injured hand, "but now you have an injury in the same place as Elladan. You are practically twins."
Elladan looked at the sprained wrist, the injury which had kept him from visiting Lothlorien with Elrohir. There was an opportunity severely missed, but now Elladan was glad: who could say how long Estel would have continued abusing his hands before someone found him? Elladan grinned weakly at Estel.
"Elladan, why don't you go back to bed? You look very tired."
Taking his father's suggestion, Elladan bade the two a good day, earning a wry chuckle from Elrond and a tearfully confused look from Estel. When Elladan had gone, Elrond cuddled Estel until the boy no longer cried. "All right now?" Elrond asked, gently peeling clumps of hair dampened by tears away from Estel's face.
"I want Elrohir," Estel answered.
"We all miss Elrohir," Elrond agreed, "but he will be home tomorrow."
This comforted Estel, but only a little. "I saw monsters in my head, Ada."
A strange look came upon Elrond's face. "I know, child. I am very sorry."
"Make them go away!" the boy pleaded, throwing himself on the mercy of the elven lord.
But Elrond did not despair. "There may be a way to do just that," he said, and Estel looked up again with hope. "Can you stay here alone for a moment?" Estel shook his head no. "Come with me then."
The corridors remained frightening, but Estel clung tightly to Elrond's hand and kept close to the elf to dispel his fears. Elrond sat Estel on his bed and searched through his closet. Estel watched with interest as Elrond knocked things off hangers. Once he even swore. Estel told him so. "If you can swear, does that mean I can swear?" he wanted to know.
"Absolutely not! Cheeky fellow," Elrond muttered, causing Estel to giggle. At last he emerged from the closet. "This is for you," he said, proffering an object. Estel took it, and Elrond sat beside him on the bed. With Elrond beside him Estel felt sheltered, but also very small. He fingered the toy but said nothing, sensing an explanation coming. "I was given that by someone as a child."
"Who?" Estel wanted to know.
"A woman who looked after me when my own ada and mother could not be there." Elrond watched as Estel ran his hands over the entire surface of the bear, as though he could feel the stains better than see them. Somehow the pure white truth of the bear's colour remained, his black button eyes still shining. The threads forming his nose and mouth had much faded but were still visible. The toy seemed almost ragged, and Elrond wondered if he had made a mistake, if it did not belong put away somewhere.
"He can protect me," Estel said. "When the monsters come, he will fight them off. A great white bear. A giant! He is, isn't he Ada? He will look after me."
"Yes, Estel."
"What is he called?" Estel asked.
Elrond admitted to never having named him. Estel looked contemplatively at the bear, considered, then answered, "Faramir."
"Faramir?" Elrond wondered, why does he name the bear 'adequate jewel'?
"Jewel of the hunt," Estel answered proudly. "My Faramir."
*****
The end
Author's note: There is some question as to the meaning of the name Faramir. 'Far' may refer to 'adequate' but 'fara' to 'hunting.'