Disclaimer; I own nothing but my fiddle and the hair on my head. Some of the statements in here aren’t even my own.

Warning of vague allusions.

Note; on thinking of it, it occurred to me some people might feel like they are being lectured. That was not my intent and if any one feels like that please tell me so I can try to fix it.

The next chapter is going to be about Arwen.

Falcon’s Feathers

Estel sat curled up in his foster father’s favorite chair. The book in his hands was open to a water-color of an elven lady dancing in a moonlight glade, while in the shadows lurked the form of a man, dirty and unkempt.

The young human gazed alternately at the picture and out the window, though it was clear from the absent minded look on his face that he was thinking of neither the peaceful day nor the poem opposite the illustration. He did not notice when an elven lord entered the room and stood beside his chair until he spoke.

“Estel, my son, you are faraway from here, of what are you thinking?”

The boy leapt up, “I am sorry Adar, I did not sense you come in.”

Elrond laughed softly and pushed his son back into the chair, “You had other things on you mind. Perhaps you would not mind telling an old elf like me of them.”

Estel blushed and ducked his head, “I do not think you would find them to be very interesting, Hir nin.”

“Estel, since your father died and you came to my house, I have loved you as my own son. In fact I have heard my sons complain that I like you more than them.” Elrond smiled briefly as if in memory, then he spoke again in the quiet voice that commanded armies and healed the ill. “Do you think I could love you without knowing you? Do you think I could know you without caring about your thoughts and concerns?”

Estel looked up at him for a long moment, and then climbed out of the chair. “Please Ada, sit here. I will sit on the floor.”

Elrond smiled and motioned his son to sit down again, “No, you keep the chair; I will sit on the floor. I listen better there.” He sat down gracefully on the floor and watched as his tall son slowly sat back down and tucked his long legs under him. The Elven Lord thought sadly that his adopted son was almost grown up in the eyes of men. Estel would soon have to be told of his true heritage.

For many minutes they both were silent; a breeze blew in through the portico bringing with it the smell of thyme, and the sound of song. When Estel spoke his voice was strangely deep and quiet, “Ada, I know the love that you, my mother and my brothers have for me and that I have for them, the patience, guidance and closeness. And the love of Legolas, as a friend. But what is the love a man must have for his wife?”

Elrond stared up at the young human, at a loss for words; how can one define that love? What words could portray it in its truth?

In his perch above his father Estel saw the look, and a blush rose to his smooth face, “I do not remember anything of my father and mother together, and…” he stopped suddenly and a worry line appeared on his forehead.

“And you have never seen Celebrian,” Elrond finished quietly. The boy nodded. Elrond took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Estel, I am afraid you have asked a question that I can never be able to make you understand fully. You must to some degree find out for yourself, but there are some things I can tell you.” Elrond bowed his head in thought. His words must be chosen carefully; what he said or did not say could shape the man that this boy was quickly becoming.

The boy waited patiently for his father to speak, his simple trust in the elven lord written in his eyes.

At last Elrond looked up, “Estel, you know the strict definition of love, do you not?”

Estel nodded and spoke softly, “The willingness to give one’s life for another.”

“Yes, that is the action of love. Do you understand that it does not only mean that you are willing to die for a loved one, but you are willing to live for her? To give your life, your pleasure, your dreams and hopes to the person you love.” Estel nodded and Elrond continued, “A man does not go to a woman and say, ‘I long to be a knight, but I am too weak to win my spurs. Be my ‘ladye faire’ and help me to win honor.’ The maiden would laugh him to scorn. That is not love at all. The man must prove his worth before any promise is made.”

Lines creased Estels smooth forehead, he said. “So if love does not change you, then it is not love, but a fancy?”

Elrond smiled at his son, how like he is to my brother, he thought to himself. What I would say in many paragraphs, Elros would say in a sentence. “Yes Estel, it is life changing, for you must strive for it. A woman’s love and trust must be earned, and valued above all else. Even before you have found a love like that, it is well to prepare for it, by keeping your self honorable and clean.”

“Clean, ada?” Estel asked, a smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes,” Elrond continued, “clean; in thought and actions, as well as body. So when you meet your ‘ladye faire’ her love will fit your shoulders as a falcon’s feathers fit a falcon.”

“What would soil me Ada, so that I would be unworthy? Hate?”

“Yes, hate; but also lust and the inability to distinguish right from wrong.” Elrond paused then said slowly in elvish, “I dir min-perin no, ah gwend i atharo perin no. A gwa pant aen hain.”

The boy nodded slowly, and father and son lapsed into a comfortable silence. Elrond stretched out on the floor, feeling the cool stones through his mantle and tunic. His thoughts centered on his own wife who waited for him across the sea. Time had tempered the sadness of their parting, but part of him had gone with her and though many years had passed he did not feel whole. All those he had cared for and who had passed on had taken a little bit of him with them, but Celebrian had taken half of him. As he thought of her, great sadness and longing filled his heart.

Estel, sat looking at his adopted father. He was lying on the cold stone floor stretched to his full length with his dark blue mantle billowing out about him like a deep pool under a clear sky. As he lay on the floor like that his dignity seemed to be stripped away, replacing it was an ageless sense of wisdom, and was it… insecurity? Estel had known that the passing of Celebrian had affected his father strongly, but now the boy suddenly realized that a wife cannot be just a friend. From a marriage arises a bond between the spouses which, by its very nature is perpetual and exclusive. This bond is a deeply personal unity, it is beyond a union in one flesh; a forming of one heart and soul. And with Celebrian, his father’s heart remained.

Estel sat wondering at this discovery, and looking with new eyes at the elf he called father. How hard it must be to watch your heart’s blood leave, yet be unable to follow, having not yet completed the task you were set on earth for. As he gazed upon his father, the boy saw a single tear slip under the closed eyes and slide down his cheek.

“Ada,” the boy gasped, “I am sorry, I did not mean…”

“No, ionn nin. I have mourned the fading of my wife; my heart ached only out of loneliness.” Elrond rose in one liquid motion from the floor, and looked down at his foster son. The boy’s eyes were filled with love and agony at the thought of causing the man he called father any pain. Elrond shook his head. “I am foolish, how could I be lonely here, with those whom I love.”

The tear had left a silver streak down Elrond’s face, and as the sun came through window the light turned it to gold. The book fell from Estel’s hands as he leapt up and threw his arms around the elven lord’s shoulders. Elrond was surprised at the strength of this boy’s arms; but he returned the embrace, pouring all his love for the human child into it.

Encircled so in his father’s arms Estel felt as though his love would crush him. Instead, it flowed into him, giving him new strength. “Adar, you are not foolish, it can never be foolish to love your wife so.” His voice was filled with emotion, and a quiet conviction, “The foolish are those who have lost a loved one, and try to forget.”

Elrond tightened his embrace for a second then released his son. He wiped his eyes and the hem of his sleeve and took a deep breath. “Eg tu garro, ionn. Le estel na atani.”

Estel shifted and grew red; he was uncomfortable whenever his father or any one spoke like that; there was something behind it that he did not understand. Hidden in his heart he knew that he was not a simple human; for what human would live with elves when he had relatives among his own kind? A shiver passed over his skin.

“Ada,” he said slowly, “I have never seen a picture of the Lady Celebrian, was she very beautiful?”

“Ionn, if you could but see Arwen you would know that that is a foolish question. She was more beautiful than the stars in the heavens, and kinder than the sun in the spring.” Elrond was smiling, “You have never seen a picture of her?”

Estel shook his head, somewhat bewildered at his father’s question for there were no pictures of her around the house or with the portraits of all who lived in Imladris.

Elrond laughed at the wry look on the boys face; then lovingly tugged at a lock of Estel’s hair. “I put them away, Estel, for a long time it was too painful to look at them. But I think it is time we get them out again. Would you care to help?”

“I would love to, Ada!” Estel laughed, and the light of Earendil was in his eyes.

**********

“I dir min-perin no, ah gwend i atharo perin no. A gwa pant aen hain” is translated as, “Man is one half, and woman that other half, together they are whole.”

Eg tu garro, ionn. Le estel na atani = you are strong, my son. You are hope to men.