Shadows & Hope

The child had been brought, covered in a thick blanket. Arathorn’s son had just turned three. The small, precious bundle was now lying in one of Rivendell’s guest quarters. In a bed that was way too big for the small child.
Elrond, lord of Rivendell was deeply lost in thoughts. Looking at the child gravely, his thoughts were with the child’s parents. Dead. Both of them. His heart was going out for the orphaned child.

Mithrandir had pleaded him to raise the child here in Imladris. Elrond had also heard Illuvitar speak to him, encouraging to do so, to take care of the small human like a father.
But Elrond wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to abandon little Aragorn, nor did he want a child with such turbulent future and heritage to be raised wrongly.
Though, could a young human grow up among elves? Among a race that was so much different? A different life span, different ways of living even a different language… Was it right to keep him here in Rivendell?

Suddenly the child started moving in his sleep. Pressing his head in the pillow.
Elrond noted the change immediately. He waited silently. Maybe it was nothing.
But the small legs started kicking violently against the blankets and a small, hoarse voice was to be heard, screaming.

“No! No! Addy, Addy, wake up! Mommy… Please…No!”

Alarmed, Elrond quickly scrambled up and ran to the bed. Aragorn’s eyes were open, though he wasn’t seeing the chamber around him. He was solely caught in his horrible nightmare…

Elrond softly laid his hand on the child’s hot cheek. The human’s hitched breathing only quickened. It almost seemed as though little Aragorn was feverish!

“Shh… It’s all right. It’s all right. Wake up, little one…”

But the human didn’t respond to the soft, elven Lord’s voice.

“Don’ go! Don’ leave me! I don’ wanna be alone… Please…Please… Wake up Addy, Mommy…”

The poor little boy was sobbing vigorously. His eyes tightly shut now.
Elrond couldn’t stand having Aragorn hurting like that. He knew those cruel memories were hunting him…
Carefully Elrond sat himself on the bed and took the sobbing being gently in his arms, pressing him softly to his chest.

“It’s okay. I’m here, you’re not alone. I won’t let you be alone.”
Meanwhile Elrond had to fight the pain that wrenched his own heart…

Small hands clutched his tunic. Elrond kept holding the boy in a warm embrace, feeling he was gradually waking form his visions.
Aragorn pressed his head tightly against the lord’s chest, sensing a protective, warm feeling that was calming his small hurting heart.
Elrond felt silent tears wetting his tunic.

For minutes all Elrond did was holding the child, knowing he needed the warmth and care.
It gave Rivendell’s lord a good feeling as well. It was surprising how quickly little Aragorn trusted him. The child’s innocence touched Elrond. It had been so long since there had been such a small being in his arms. He had perhaps forgotten what a special feeling it was.

After a while the child moved in Elrond’s lap, turning his young, red-rimmed eyes to the elf’s.

“Thank you… sir”, he whispered softly.

“You’re welcome, little one.” Elrond spoke gently.

Aragorn had never seen elves before. He had just had a short glimpse of them when he had arrived in Rivendell.
Now the child was looking wide-eyed at the elf lord’s pointed ears. He warily reached out to touch them, as though he wanted to be sure they were real.
Elrond smiled when he realized what the child was doing.

“You’re elf?” the child asked, after having touched the pointy ears.

“Yes, Aragorn. I am indeed an elf. My ears aren’t like yours, are they.”

The boy remained silent for a while. His mind was trying to process all the events of the past days.
He had always wanted to see a real elf. His mother used to tell all those beautiful stories about them. Tears welled up in his silver eyes when he remembered his mother.

“Hey… What’s wrong Aragorn?” Elrond asked, softly caressing the boy’s hair.

“I… w-want my m-mommy”, the child sobbed miserably.

Elrond didn’t immediately know how to proceed. It was so incredibly hard on the young mind. He started rocking the child for a while. Speaking softly in elvish to him. Even though Aragorn couldn’t understand it, it was the lord’s voice that calmed the boy.

“It’s late. Almost midnight.”
Gently he tucked the child in. Tightening the thick, warm blanket around the child’s body so he wouldn’t get cold.
“You need to sleep”, he carefully wiped the tears away, “it will do you some good.”

The child stopped crying and stared at Elrond as though expecting something.
When Elrond didn’t respond, the child came to sit up quickly, moving his head forward and pressing a soft, gently kiss on the elven lord’s forehead.
“Goodnight, sir.”
Then he laid himself on the pillow again and quickly fell asleep.

Elrond was most utterly moved by this unconditional tenderness and love.

“Goodnight, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gilraen.”

xxxxxx

Elrond appeared a little later than usual at breakfast that morning. He hadn’t slept at all that night. He had stayed with Arathorn’s son. It had been a long, rough night. The child had tumbled from one nightmare into another. At some points the child’s eyes had flung open and feverishly stared ahead. Then Elrond would wake the boy up, to release him from the horrible things the nightmare forced him to see.

“Adar, you look terrible!” Elrond heard his oldest son say.

“Thank you, Elladan”, he answered.

Elladan snickered softly, but then turned serious again. “Did you stay up with the child all night?”

“Yes”, Elrond sighed, “the boy is not well. His mind is desperately trying to process the traumatic attack. But right now it’s only leading him to nightmares…”

Elladan looked very seriously now. “Poor child… Do you need help, Adar?”

“Perhaps you could get me some breakfast, so I can return to the young human. I got him to sleep. But I fear he might become feverish again.”

xxxxxx

When Elrond arrived the child was still fast asleep. But by the time Elladan appeared with his breakfast, Aragorn had started to move in his sleep again, his small cheeks had turned slightly red and his forehead was quite hot. The child started muttering incomprehensible things under his breath.

Elladan stared wide-eyed at the child. The human was suffering horribly! Elladan could very well figure out himself what Aragorn was seeing when having tumbled in yet another nightmare. His heart went out for the child.

Elrond looked very concerned. He quickly went to the back of the room, wetting a piece of garment.

Aragorn’s eyes flung open again. Seeing nothing ahead, only the horrors in his mind.
Elrond was quickly by Aragorn’s side. He gently began to wipe the boy’s hot forehead.

“Adar! He’s feverish! He’s ill!” the elf was really shocked.

Elrond stayed amazingly calm. Though he merely concealed wariness and panic.
“He is not ill, my son. I would have to agree he is feverish, nonetheless.”

“But what is the matter with him? These are not mere nightmares!”

“No…” Elrond spoke quietly. Now finally understanding, “It are shadows…”
Elladan stared at his father, not quite understanding.

“Shadows of the past. Of the attack this little one has survived. They will keep on hunting him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He will learn to accept it, but he won’t get over it.
He’s so young, Elladan. His mind is so overwhelmed… Humans refer to this as ‘Furmorians’ or shadows. It are merely the ghosts of a painful past. Now we’re dealing with the worst stab of the traumatic incident.”

Elladan listened quietly.
“It must hurt him so much… It’s such a cruel fate…”

“His fate, Elladan, is to be King of Gondor…”

Both remained silent for a few moments. The only sounds to be heard in the room were of small Aragorn, he was still muttering things under his breath.
Elrond took a piece of clothing that had been dipped into water and used it to sweep Aragorn’s sweaty forehead and thereby slowly waking him.

“It’s all right, Aragorn, it’s all right. We’re here. Nobody will hurt you…”

The child was crying softly against the lord’s chest. Elrond knew this had to get better. This could not go on.

The child opened his eyes. Looking straightforward. Avoiding the elf lord’s eyes.
“I keep see’in them…” the child whispered softly. There was fear in his little voice and pain… Elrond’s heart ached by the mere sound of it.

“I know, I know…” he said.

Elladan came to sit next to them, softly caressing the boy’s sweaty hair.
“We’ll stay with you…”

Aragorn set his eyes upon Elladan. Though there were tears in them, they had something innocent and childish.

“I want my mum…” Aragorn wined. “I want my addy…”

Elladan saw pain in his father’s eyes. How was such a small being to understand death? How was little Aragorn to accept and process all that has transpired?

“Where is the child going, after he’s healed?”

When Elrond remained silent, Elladan asked again.

“He is to stay here, I think… Mithrandir asked if we could raise him. He needs a youth away from Gondor, away from his heritage. It is not yet his time to become part of the world of men. I don’t know whether it is right, Elladan… But we can give him a stable world.”

Elladan didn’t respond immediately. Then he smiled.
“Great! I always wanted a younger brother. You know, one I could learn how to use a bow… Not that Elrohir couldn’t use some extra lessons…”

“Hey! I heard that!”
Elrohir entered the room as well. He was carrying a cup of thee.
“I bring you some thee, Adar.”

After having given the thee to his father, it was suddenly very quiet in the room. Except for Aragorn’s heavy breaths.

“So, the young human is to stay…” Elrohir spoke softly.

xxxxxx

The room in which Arathorn’s son was lying, was filled with the smell of Athelas. Elrond had used it to overcome the child’s fever. It looked like it was working too, the boy wasn’t flushed and hot to the touch anymore.
Elrond was almost falling asleep because of the sweet scent of Athelas. He didn’t even notice Aragorn waking up, ’till he heard a small voice speaking to him.

“Will I see them again?”

It took a while before Elrond understood what Aragorn was talking about. Then it stabbed him.
He thought carefully about what to answer.
“Of course! They will visit you often. In your most beautiful dreams you will still see them smiling and laughing. They’ll be right here.”
He pressed the young boy’s chest.

The boy seemed to be thinking about those words for a while. Very earnestly he replied.
“Yes. When I close my eyes, I can see them… So they can’t be really dead.”

Elrond bit his lip. The sudden hope in the child hit him.

“Gerin le estel daer, nether,” he whispered softly.
(You hold great hope, young one.)

“Estel… Estel o Edain. Estel o Imladris.”
(Hope of Man-kind. Hope of Rivendell)

“I should name you Estel… Your parents are dead, little one. But not gone… Your heart will always remind you of that. Estel nin.”

The boy’s eyes saddened a little. He slumped back into the pillows.

“I will take care of you, my Estel. You won’t be alone.”
Elrond softly caressed the boy’s hair. He started humming an old elvish lullaby, that he vaguely remembered. He used to sing it to Elladan and Elrohir when they were little. So many, many years ago.
Somehow it felt good to feel like a father again. He had quite forgotten what it was like to have such a small being lying in his arms. It felt so right.
When little Estel had fallen asleep in the elven lord’s arms, Elrond felt a huge amount of love for the child. It almost brought tears to his eyes…
He would give the boy all the love and care he needed. As if he were his own.

xxxxxx

Estel healed quite quickly from his feverish nightmares. Elrond saw this as prove that he had been named well.
Elladan and Elrohir were both quite enthusiastic that the young human boy was going to stay. And Estel was clearly very fond of their company.

Disclaimer:
Characters, places etc. belong to J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. I am making no money out of this – so please do not sue me