Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 16:34:38 GMT
Author: sehellys
Summary: “I had heard of the magic of the elves”, Eowyn said, “but I did not look for it in a ranger from the North.” A story about how Aragorn learned this so called ‘magic of the elves’ during his childhood in Rivendell.
Rating: K+ (for brief mentioning of injuries)
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
AN: Inspired by the extended scene in the TTT movies, which I’ve adapted with slight changes.
With many, many thanks to my wonderful beta reader who looked this over for me on quite short notice.
The stallion was restless. It strained against the ropes holding it in place and despite the many Rohirrim warriors that were trying to keep it contained it would not settle down. Four men against one horse - and the Rohirrim were losing.
Aragorn approached them carefully, with a nudge on the shoulder of one of the men, he claimed one of the ropes and used it to slowly inch his way closer to the horse. He let his body language speak for him, conveying that he meant no harm and did not seek to quench its raging emotions. More and more of the men lowered their ropes as the bucking decreased, trusting him to control the horse, but he paid them little heed.
He reached a hand towards the distraught stallion and started speaking to it in Elvish. Small nonsensical endearments, the sound of the soft vowels more than the actual meaning would help him relay his message. As the horse settled he removed the ropes still binding it, handing them to one of the warriors that had started to gape openly at his display.
“His name is Brego.”
Aragorn turned around to see Eowyn in the stable, she was looking at him curiously. “He was my cousin’s horse.”
“Brego” Aragorn said, turning back around to the stallion, “your name is kingly.”
While he continued to talk to the horse Eowyn ignored what she had been doing and approached him instead. “I had heard of the magic of the elves”, she said, “but I did not look for it in a ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own.”
Aragorn regarded her, for a moment wistful as old memories stirred at her words. “I was raised in Rivendell ... for a time” was all the explanation he gave her. But despite his apparent nonchalance he could feel his mind drift back to the day that he had learned this ‘magic’.
-o0o-
It was a beautiful summer’s day. The intense sunshine tinted the air beneath the forest’s lush canopy a hazy green and left golden speckles on the ground where it passed between the leaves.
Estel urged his pony to walk faster, trying to catch up to his brothers who were waiting for him further up the path. A bird chittered on his right and hastened back into the underbrush when he rode past.
Birds! Estel reigned in his pony and tried to focus on the voices of the winged inhabitants of the forest instead. He had almost forgotten about his mission!
Today was his tenth birthday making him old enough to finally start his warrior training in a matter of weeks. As a special present, and after much begging, his brothers had agreed to take him on a trip to better prepare him for the start of those lessons. They had tasked him with identifying the song of the birds and, Estel noticed horrified, they would probably expect an answer soon. Trying to recall the lessons of Lord Erestor on the wildlife of the Hidden Valley, Estel found it was more difficult than he had thought.
Many of his lessons had relied on the twins retrieving life specimen from the wild and when they had failed to do so, which evil tongues (commonly known to belong to Glorfindel) suggested they did on purpose, Erestor had been forced to emulate the sounds of birds and beasts to the best of his abilities. And despite the elf lord’s considerable skill, Estel had been so hard pressed not to laugh that he had often failed to actually learn the sounds.
But luck was with him today and he recognized the voice of the winged creature hiding in the underbrush.
“A ground jay!” the boy exclaimed as he reached his brothers’ side, his face easily showing his excitement at knowing the answer.
Identical smiles crossed the faces of the twin sons of Elrond as their little brother rode up beside them.
“Very well done, Estel.” Elladan praised. “Now, how about you show us how well you have paid attention when Ro and I have been teaching you to read tracks.”
He dismounted his grey stallion and beckoned Estel to join him on the ground, pointing out some faint imprints in the dry earth.
The young boy did not need to be told twice. In a flurry of motion he dismounted his pony and raced to his brother's side, his curls gently bobbing in the wind.
"It was a hare!" Estel exclaimed before even reaching the indicated spot, the imprints were clear and deep in the soft forest earth. "And she was fast, trying to escape from something." He crouched low now to examine the tracks briefly before rising to his feet and roaming the forest for further prints with a gleam of excitement in his voice.
"She turned here!" He pointed at the ground but barely stopped to wait for acknowledgement or confirmation before he continued to follow the zig-zagging prints of the hare.
Elladan turned around to face his twin, clearly amused by the display of tracking skills from their youngest brother. "It seems he did pay attention to our teachings."
"Apparently." Elrohir confirmed, and then added with a barely suppressed smirk: "It is nice to know that our lessons are more exciting than Erestor's" He watched as Estel was carefully bending the branches of a low shrub at the edge of the forest path, trying to find the spot where the hare would have bolted back into the cover of the leaves.
Elladan chuckled lightly. "Was there ever any doubt about it, brother?"
His laughter broke off abruptly as a faint sound captured both of the elven twins' attention. An ominous crash followed by a pain filled scream. Elladan turned around to make sure Estel, now half-buried under shrubbery, was still within easy reach should danger approach them. At the same time Elrohir's eyes roamed the forest trying to pierce the underbrush and pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from. When no danger was apparent the twins' eyes met, coming to a silent agreement to scour the source of the scream.
The sound itself had been too faint to be picked up by human ears, especially if said human was busy murmuring excited phrases in the hopes of luring the elusive hare out of cover. But, Estel had always been sensitive to the elves surrounding him, aware from a young age that they would hear and see things that he could not. So, when his brothers tensed the boy turned his large silver eyes from the depths of the forest and at them instead. "What has happened?"
His question earned him a soft smile, for his attentiveness never ceased to amaze his brothers. "We are not sure Estel, but it seems as though someone is in need of aid. We should see if we can provide it."
-oOo-
The three sons of Elrond rode along the forest path with all the haste Estel’s shorter-legged pony allowed. Gradually the forest opened up and they soon reached the crossroad to a larger trading route that was often used by the human trader’s within the valley.
The scream of pain that had alerted the elven twins earlier had not been repeated but rather been replaced by a litany of moans, interrupted by the occasional colourful curse, whoever was in pain seemed not to be facing any imminent danger at least.
They followed the road around a bend, finally reaching the source of the commotion. A man was lying on the ground, cradling an obviously injured arm to his chest while his other hand rested on the small dagger at his belt. He had heard their approach and from the expression on his face was clearly relieved to find they had not been the bandits he might have feared. His hand dropped from the hilt of the meagre weapon but he hesitated to speak. It was most likely his first encounter with one of the firstborn.
“Stay with Estel, I will see what I can do to help him.” Elrohir spoke to his twin, then dismounted and slowly approached the man, hands lifted and palms turned outward to show the man that he meant no harm. He cast a swift glance over the road, the man was lying propped up against a stone, suggesting that he had moved after the accident, though not much. The man’s horse, a handsome black stallion stood at the side of the road of to a side, making no move to leave his master or the bag that most likely held the man’s belongings. There was a marking on the knapsack, identifying the man as a trader with the permission to traverse the hidden valley.
As he got closer to the man who was still watching him with a mix of relief and suspicion, Elrohir spoke: “Well met, Master trader. I am a healer from Rivendell, can I offer you assistance?”
The man nodded eagerly until the motion jarred his injured arm and he decided to speak instead. “A healer, the One be blessed. Yes, your help would be most welcome.”
As Elrohir knelt down at his side and reached out to examine his injured arm, a sudden look of caution crossed the man’s face and he carefully moved his arm out of reach. “I don’t have anything to repay your kindness though”, the man said cautiously.
The look Elrohir had had at the trader’s belongings next to the waiting stallion suggested otherwise but the younger twin chose not to comment on that. Instead he replied, with long years of practiced diplomacy: “You are traveling within the borders of Rivendell, none who seek our help shall go unaided.”
When Elrohir reached for the man’s wounded arm again, the merchant was more than happy to entrust it to his touch. The healing abilities of elves were still renowned in the villages close to Imladris, and the man was most likely glad that he and his brothers had run across him.
“This is a bad break,” Elrohir said after a moment of examining the arm. “The bones are out of alignment. I will have to set the bones. Chew these leaves, they will dull the pain.”
The merchant grit his teeth at the news, purposefully avoiding to look at either the elf or his injured arm. But he did accept the leaves Elrohir offered him and started chewing the bitter herbs. As he looked away once more, unconsciously bracing his muscles against the pain he expected, his roaming eyes came to rest on his horse.
“It’s all that blasted horse’s fault.” he exclaimed. “The stupid thing just threw me off, for no reason either. Foul beast.”
Elrohir tensed. His hands hovered above the man’s broken arm for a moment as the careless comment broke his concentration. He took a breath, trying to ignore the man’s insult to his horse and to focus instead on healing the man’s injuries. The herbs were probably sharpening the tongue more than the merchant intended, though it still unsettled Elrohir that the man would speak so poorly of his magnificent steed. The younger twin had always had a soft spot for the large animals, spending much of his free time in the stables of Imladris, even as an elfling.
“It is vicious I tell you, dangerous” the man continued to express his anger at his steed, though Elrohir carefully refrained from replying to his tirade.
But the merchant’s words drifted over to Estel as well and the young human found his gaze drawn to the horse, almost by its own accord. It was an imposing stallion. Not quite as tall as his brothers’ elven steeds but big nonetheless. It seemed to be all smooth muscles and unconcealed strength. Estel shuddered at the thought of what the horse could do if it indeed turned vicious.
Oblivious of his elven helper’s reaction to his words the injured man kept talking. “Really I should sell it to the butcher, as meat his muscles might be of some, Aaah!” The man stopped abruptly, a new shout of pain escaping his lips. Estel’s head whipped back around to look at the man and his brother anew. For a brief moment the absurd thought that Elrohir would have purposefully caused the man harm to make him stop speaking ill of the horse shot through his head. But he discarded the notion instantly, and Elrohir confirmed his judgement with his next words.
“I am sorry for the lack of warning, Master Trader, but it is best to align the bones while the patient is distracted and unaware.”
Elrohir placed the injured arm gently over his patient’s chest, asking the man to keep it steady with his other hand, while he focused his attention on the merchant’s injured leg. Placing both hands over the injury there he closed his eyes as he summoned his healing abilities, gently nudging the bones to knit back together and the muscles to relax.
He looked back up at the merchant. “Your leg is luckily only sprained”, he said, not quite the truth, but after the healing it at least wasn’t broken anymore. “If you are gentle with it you should be able to walk. I would not recommend riding, the bones in your arm might misalign again.”
“Ah don’t you worry about that, I wouldn’t ride that vicious monster even if I could. It’s just a shame I can’t now give it the whipping it deserves.”
Elrohir’s face was an unreadable mask. “My brother will bind your arm to help keep the bones steady.”
He threw a look over his shoulder, happy to find Elladan already moving forward to put his words into action. At least he wouldn’t need to explain his desire to step away from the injured man.
He got to his feet a little unsteadily, and as Elladan came over to take his place, the older twin gently squeezed his shoulder, a gesture that was equal parts emotional and physical support.
Leaving his slightly older brother to fix the realigned bones in place, Elrohir instead stepped up to the merchant’s stallion, standing tall and foreboding by the side of the road where they had first encountered it.
The horse had not moved an inch.
Raising his hands in a gesture that conveyed that he meant no harm, much like the one he had earlier used on the horse’s owner, Elrohir stepped closer to the large animal. The stallion watched him warily at first but a combination of softly spoken elvish words and much welcome scratches to the tip of its nose soon convinced the animal of his good intentions.
Estel observed his brother’s actions carefully. It wasn’t unusual for a horse to be on its best behaviour around the younger peredhel twin, but this time, somehow, showing a softer side didn’t make the stallion any less imposing. ‘Vicious monster’ and ‘wild beast’, the descriptions the merchant had used might have been exaggerated, yet the man was clearly injured and the horse was, equally clearly, to blame. A deep unease settled in Estel’s heart as he gazed upon the black horse.
As if sensing his young brother’s distracted thoughts, Elladan looked up from where he was finishing up bandaging the man’s arm and addressed him: “Estel. Go see if you can help Elrohir tend to the horse.”
“You really needn’t bother –“ The merchant hesitated. Where Elrohir’s face had been carefully neutral the look that Elladan now gave him made him quiver. The merchant shut up abruptly, not intending to antagonize the elves that had saved him.
Estel hesitated only a moment before he dutifully turned around and walked over to where Elrohir was now examining the stallion for any signs of injuries.
As he came closer Estel’s steps grew smaller, he still wasn’t sure what to think about the horse. From where he stood he couldn’t see any sign that the big horse might be injured, no explanation for why it should have thrown its rider. No explanation except the one the man himself had suggested – the horse was evil.
It seemed unlikely, but try as he might Estel could not change the unease that settled on him when he saw the stallion, could not shake the words the man had hissed in anger.
He had heard of the spies of the enemy, innocent seeming animals that were controlled to do the bidding of the dark forces. His foster father and Erestor usually talked about birds and small beasts, and while horses didn’t really seem like good spies, Estel found his imagination crawling with images of horses pawing at the ground, leaving messages with their hooves for other darker beings to find.
While his mind conjured up increasingly colourful images of horses of evil, Estel’s feet had carried him the rest of the way to the horse’s side. Elrohir was still silently talking to the horse in elvish, praising it for its beauty and loyalty.
“Loyalty?” Estel asked out loud, before he could stop himself.
Elrohir turned around, clearly startled by his youngest brother’s appearance. The younger twin looked unusually tired and he swayed for a moment before he leaned back against the reassuring bulk of the black stallion at his side. When he saw that it was Estel who had surprised him, he visibly relaxed. Remembering the surprised exclamation of his youngest brother he fixed him with a thoughtful gaze.
“Come here Estel”, the dark-haired elf said, stretching out one hand to beckon the boy over to stand by his side. It was a gesture the twins rarely used anymore since Estel was quickly growing and already at ten years old liked to establish his independence. But the boy came over dutifully, reaching for Elrohir’s hand as he did so.
The younger twin gave the hand a small squeeze. It was both, a sign of gratitude for the trust Estel had shown him, for Elrohir had seen the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when Estel mustered the black stallion, and a gentle request to pay attention to what he was about to say.
“Close your eyes for me, Estel.” Elrohir’s voice was soft and patient and Estel followed the request at once.
“Now try to forget everything you have heard about this horse, everything you think you know about it.”
Estel’s forehead creased up in confusion and concentration. It was a strange request, and difficult. How could he un-hear the words that the merchant had spoken? Nevertheless Estel tried.
“Open your eyes.” Elrohir gave his hand another squeeze then let go of it, instead he used his arm to gesture over the ground. “You are a great tracker already, Estel, what do your eyes tell you about this place? About the horse?”
Estel opened his eyes, surprised to find that he could assess the horse and its surroundings in a neutral manner, the merchant’s insults no longer whispering in his ears. Even though he remembered the words of the injured man, Elrohir’s gentle instructions had freed him from the presumptions that he had made and most of the rather unlikely possibilities his overactive imagination had supplied.
He wouldn’t deny that Elrohir’s praise of his tracking skills had also felt very good.
It was with practiced ease that he noted the indentations of the horse’s own tracks on the ground. One set of hoof prints was drawn deep into the ground, just in front of where it now stood, suggesting that that had been the place that the horse had stopped suddenly, causing its rider to topple over its head and onto the unforgiving ground.
The horse had not moved much afterwards, though there were no bonds holding it in place. A few faint imprints suggested that the horse had moved towards its rider but then backed up again. Another faint, winding imprint was hidden under the hooves’ tracks, too hard to make out on the hard ground.
Estel’s eyes landed on the traders pack, securely placed next to the horses legs. It was bulging with its considerable contents, some of which had fallen out when the horse had stopped so suddenly. Estel could make out various small pouches of the kind that his father used for healing supplies. One of them had opened slightly and a faint orange powder had spilled from it – spices. Estel spent enough time in the kitchens asking for an extra treat that he recognized the powder. He had also heard cook complain about its prize.
Finally Estel noted a bundle of haphazardly strewn stones, some small, others bigger. One was sitting atop one of the horse’s prints, indicating that the stone had landed there after the horse had stepped back. Other stones had drag marks behind them – they had been thrown.
And as Estel came to that conclusion all other parts of the puzzle clicked into place as well. A snake had scared the horse, causing it to unseat a probably inexperienced rider. When the horse had tried to approach its master’s side the merchant had instead thrown stones at the animal, leaving it no choice but to back up. Now it protected the man’s possessions instead.
Elrohir had been right, it was loyal.
As realization dawned Estel’s gaze flicked to his brother, who was smiling at him encouragingly, clearly aware of the realization he had arrived at.
“Now look at the horse again,” the younger twin prompted gently. At his side the black horse flicked its ears nervously but surprisingly Estel realized that his doubts regarding the beast had disappeared. Where before he had seen raw strength and a potential for destruction and ill will, he now only saw the beauty of a flawless coat and a gentle strength in the animal’s dark eyes.
Estel took a step forward, tentatively reaching out one hand to stroke the animal’s nose. The horse lowered its head, as intrigued with the human before it, as Estel was.
Elrohir took a step back from where he had been leaning against the horse’s side to give the two some space. “Go on, introduce yourself.”
Estel’s outstretched hand wavered for a moment as he considered the request. What should he say to a horse? For a moment it felt like a ridiculous idea to have a one sided conversation with an animal, but then the horse stepped forward, gently pressing its nose against Estel’s hand and the boy understood.
It wasn’t a one-sided conversation at all.
Estel was aware that many men seemed to think elves could speak with wild beasts in their own tongue or use some form of enchantment to bend them to their will, but it was much more than that.
And at the same time much less.
A tiny flick of the ear, a small shake of the head was telling Estel all he needed to know about the horse’s intentions. It was like reading tracks on the ground, small details and impressions flowed together to form a picture as clear as the written words in one of the library’s books. Without really realizing he started talking to the horse, repeating some of the compliments Elrohir had given it earlier, after all, he reasoned, even horses liked to hear they’re pretty.
So absorbed was Estel that he didn’t even notice his oldest brother step past him and retrieve the merchant’s pack. The horse gently nudged Estel’s chest, as if it knew that he carried a sugar cube as a treat for his pony in his pocket. He ruffled the horse’s hair playfully and pushed the big head backwards but obligingly dug the sweet out of his pocket and held it out to the stallion.
The display warmed Elrohir’s heart.
Despite expending some of his energy to heal the merchant his weariness seemed to dissipate in the face of Estel’s eagerness to learn and understand. It was good to be reminded that not all men showed as little regard to other living creatures as the merchant had.
At the thought of the man, Elrohir turned around. His twin had recovered the man’s bag earlier and returned it to him. Now he was helping him to his feet. From where he stood Elrohir couldn’t quite hear their exchange but the man seemed to be almost overly courteous, more so perhaps than their help warranted. The merchant’s uninjured arm took tight hold of a thick branch, which he used as a staff. It would help keep his weight of his injured foot without affecting his broken arm that Elladan had tied safely to his chest to keep it in place and limit the dangers of jostling the break.
Even as Elrohir watched the merchant wished his twin farewell then turned and marched off in the opposite direction. Clearly, he was in a hurry to get away from the elves and young boy who had saved him, deeming it enough to thank the one most close to him. Interestingly he made no move to reclaim his horse.
Elladan returned to his twin’s side standing close enough that their shoulders were touching, a silent sign of support. Elrohir recognized it for what it was and gratefully leaned against his brother’s steady frame. He knew that before long Elladan would chide him for extending so much of his healing energy on the injured merchant but for now he enjoyed the luxury of not having to support his own weight fully.
“I see Estel is already making acquaintance with his new horse,” Elladan said, raising his voice to make sure he would get his littlest brother’s attention also.
The effect was instantaneous. Estel’s little head whipped around, his small curls bounding with the sudden movement. “My horse?”
There was unconcealed delight and wonder in the young silver eyes. Elladan gave him a nod and a smile as confirmation. “Happy birthday, Estel.”
Estel practically squealed in delight, then whirled around to inform his new horse of all the apples and treats he was sure to get from now on.
At Elladan’s side the pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Elrohir. “So that is why he left so abruptly, he felt you overpaid and didn’t want to risk you change your mind.”
Elladan grimaced slightly, “I fear he was not very good at placing the value of his noble steed.”
Elrohir understood he was not only referring to the money he had paid to buy the horse but also to the man’s earlier thoughtless comments.
“And yet,” Elladan continued, narrowing his eyes at the pallor of his twin’s skin and the way that Elrohir was still gratefully leaning against his shoulder, “you spent more energy on healing him than you should have.”
Elrohir sighed, he had known that Elladan would bring this up eventually. “He needed our help,” he said simply, knowing that Elladan would agree. For all the worry the older twin was feeling he did not really question the choice Elrohir had made.
Still the younger twin felt the need to elaborate. “He could not have walked on a broken leg and could not ride with broken bones.” With a grimace he admitted: “And I really did not care to build a stretcher and accompany him home.” He had had quite enough of the man’s company.
Elladan squeezed his brother’s shoulder gently, while few elves had as much dealings with the second born than those dwelling in Rivendell, sometimes the differences between their people were made painfully clear.
“Estel seems very gifted,” Elladan offered, changing the topic. And together the sons of Elrond watched their adoptive brother as he ran over to his pony and gently stood in front of the small horse for a moment. He gave it a long look, reading its emotions the way he had learned to do just so recently from the bigger horse. He stretched out his small hand and carefully placed it on the pony’s nose, whispering soft endearments in elvish.
The pony had been Estel’s for years and there was no hesitation in the equine creature as it followed his master over towards the bigger, black horse. Estel introduced horse to pony, trying to explain to each in turn how important and beautiful they both were and that they needn’t worry because cook was his friend and he could always get enough apples for two horses.
When Estel felt that he had explained the situation to his pony and new horse he raced over to his brothers, hugging Elladan with all the ferocity of an excited 10-year old.
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated over and over again for a while before he collected himself and remembered to stand up straight and serious, just like Erestor had shown him.
It lasted for all of five seconds.
Then the young boy launched himself at his other brother, nearly toppling both of them over in his delight. After they had regained their balance somewhat Estel, tightened his hug of the younger twins midsection.
“Thank you Elrohir,” he said earnestly, “for teaching me to talk with horses.”
Elrohir returned his young brother’s hug gently. “Thank you, Estel, for wanting to learn.”
-o0 The End 0o-
Summary: “I had heard of the magic of the elves”, Eowyn said, “but I did not look for it in a ranger from the North.” A story about how Aragorn learned this so called ‘magic of the elves’ during his childhood in Rivendell.
Rating: K+ (for brief mentioning of injuries)
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
AN: Inspired by the extended scene in the TTT movies, which I’ve adapted with slight changes.
With many, many thanks to my wonderful beta reader who looked this over for me on quite short notice.
The stallion was restless. It strained against the ropes holding it in place and despite the many Rohirrim warriors that were trying to keep it contained it would not settle down. Four men against one horse - and the Rohirrim were losing.
Aragorn approached them carefully, with a nudge on the shoulder of one of the men, he claimed one of the ropes and used it to slowly inch his way closer to the horse. He let his body language speak for him, conveying that he meant no harm and did not seek to quench its raging emotions. More and more of the men lowered their ropes as the bucking decreased, trusting him to control the horse, but he paid them little heed.
He reached a hand towards the distraught stallion and started speaking to it in Elvish. Small nonsensical endearments, the sound of the soft vowels more than the actual meaning would help him relay his message. As the horse settled he removed the ropes still binding it, handing them to one of the warriors that had started to gape openly at his display.
“His name is Brego.”
Aragorn turned around to see Eowyn in the stable, she was looking at him curiously. “He was my cousin’s horse.”
“Brego” Aragorn said, turning back around to the stallion, “your name is kingly.”
While he continued to talk to the horse Eowyn ignored what she had been doing and approached him instead. “I had heard of the magic of the elves”, she said, “but I did not look for it in a ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own.”
Aragorn regarded her, for a moment wistful as old memories stirred at her words. “I was raised in Rivendell ... for a time” was all the explanation he gave her. But despite his apparent nonchalance he could feel his mind drift back to the day that he had learned this ‘magic’.
-o0o-
It was a beautiful summer’s day. The intense sunshine tinted the air beneath the forest’s lush canopy a hazy green and left golden speckles on the ground where it passed between the leaves.
Estel urged his pony to walk faster, trying to catch up to his brothers who were waiting for him further up the path. A bird chittered on his right and hastened back into the underbrush when he rode past.
Birds! Estel reigned in his pony and tried to focus on the voices of the winged inhabitants of the forest instead. He had almost forgotten about his mission!
Today was his tenth birthday making him old enough to finally start his warrior training in a matter of weeks. As a special present, and after much begging, his brothers had agreed to take him on a trip to better prepare him for the start of those lessons. They had tasked him with identifying the song of the birds and, Estel noticed horrified, they would probably expect an answer soon. Trying to recall the lessons of Lord Erestor on the wildlife of the Hidden Valley, Estel found it was more difficult than he had thought.
Many of his lessons had relied on the twins retrieving life specimen from the wild and when they had failed to do so, which evil tongues (commonly known to belong to Glorfindel) suggested they did on purpose, Erestor had been forced to emulate the sounds of birds and beasts to the best of his abilities. And despite the elf lord’s considerable skill, Estel had been so hard pressed not to laugh that he had often failed to actually learn the sounds.
But luck was with him today and he recognized the voice of the winged creature hiding in the underbrush.
“A ground jay!” the boy exclaimed as he reached his brothers’ side, his face easily showing his excitement at knowing the answer.
Identical smiles crossed the faces of the twin sons of Elrond as their little brother rode up beside them.
“Very well done, Estel.” Elladan praised. “Now, how about you show us how well you have paid attention when Ro and I have been teaching you to read tracks.”
He dismounted his grey stallion and beckoned Estel to join him on the ground, pointing out some faint imprints in the dry earth.
The young boy did not need to be told twice. In a flurry of motion he dismounted his pony and raced to his brother's side, his curls gently bobbing in the wind.
"It was a hare!" Estel exclaimed before even reaching the indicated spot, the imprints were clear and deep in the soft forest earth. "And she was fast, trying to escape from something." He crouched low now to examine the tracks briefly before rising to his feet and roaming the forest for further prints with a gleam of excitement in his voice.
"She turned here!" He pointed at the ground but barely stopped to wait for acknowledgement or confirmation before he continued to follow the zig-zagging prints of the hare.
Elladan turned around to face his twin, clearly amused by the display of tracking skills from their youngest brother. "It seems he did pay attention to our teachings."
"Apparently." Elrohir confirmed, and then added with a barely suppressed smirk: "It is nice to know that our lessons are more exciting than Erestor's" He watched as Estel was carefully bending the branches of a low shrub at the edge of the forest path, trying to find the spot where the hare would have bolted back into the cover of the leaves.
Elladan chuckled lightly. "Was there ever any doubt about it, brother?"
His laughter broke off abruptly as a faint sound captured both of the elven twins' attention. An ominous crash followed by a pain filled scream. Elladan turned around to make sure Estel, now half-buried under shrubbery, was still within easy reach should danger approach them. At the same time Elrohir's eyes roamed the forest trying to pierce the underbrush and pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from. When no danger was apparent the twins' eyes met, coming to a silent agreement to scour the source of the scream.
The sound itself had been too faint to be picked up by human ears, especially if said human was busy murmuring excited phrases in the hopes of luring the elusive hare out of cover. But, Estel had always been sensitive to the elves surrounding him, aware from a young age that they would hear and see things that he could not. So, when his brothers tensed the boy turned his large silver eyes from the depths of the forest and at them instead. "What has happened?"
His question earned him a soft smile, for his attentiveness never ceased to amaze his brothers. "We are not sure Estel, but it seems as though someone is in need of aid. We should see if we can provide it."
-oOo-
The three sons of Elrond rode along the forest path with all the haste Estel’s shorter-legged pony allowed. Gradually the forest opened up and they soon reached the crossroad to a larger trading route that was often used by the human trader’s within the valley.
The scream of pain that had alerted the elven twins earlier had not been repeated but rather been replaced by a litany of moans, interrupted by the occasional colourful curse, whoever was in pain seemed not to be facing any imminent danger at least.
They followed the road around a bend, finally reaching the source of the commotion. A man was lying on the ground, cradling an obviously injured arm to his chest while his other hand rested on the small dagger at his belt. He had heard their approach and from the expression on his face was clearly relieved to find they had not been the bandits he might have feared. His hand dropped from the hilt of the meagre weapon but he hesitated to speak. It was most likely his first encounter with one of the firstborn.
“Stay with Estel, I will see what I can do to help him.” Elrohir spoke to his twin, then dismounted and slowly approached the man, hands lifted and palms turned outward to show the man that he meant no harm. He cast a swift glance over the road, the man was lying propped up against a stone, suggesting that he had moved after the accident, though not much. The man’s horse, a handsome black stallion stood at the side of the road of to a side, making no move to leave his master or the bag that most likely held the man’s belongings. There was a marking on the knapsack, identifying the man as a trader with the permission to traverse the hidden valley.
As he got closer to the man who was still watching him with a mix of relief and suspicion, Elrohir spoke: “Well met, Master trader. I am a healer from Rivendell, can I offer you assistance?”
The man nodded eagerly until the motion jarred his injured arm and he decided to speak instead. “A healer, the One be blessed. Yes, your help would be most welcome.”
As Elrohir knelt down at his side and reached out to examine his injured arm, a sudden look of caution crossed the man’s face and he carefully moved his arm out of reach. “I don’t have anything to repay your kindness though”, the man said cautiously.
The look Elrohir had had at the trader’s belongings next to the waiting stallion suggested otherwise but the younger twin chose not to comment on that. Instead he replied, with long years of practiced diplomacy: “You are traveling within the borders of Rivendell, none who seek our help shall go unaided.”
When Elrohir reached for the man’s wounded arm again, the merchant was more than happy to entrust it to his touch. The healing abilities of elves were still renowned in the villages close to Imladris, and the man was most likely glad that he and his brothers had run across him.
“This is a bad break,” Elrohir said after a moment of examining the arm. “The bones are out of alignment. I will have to set the bones. Chew these leaves, they will dull the pain.”
The merchant grit his teeth at the news, purposefully avoiding to look at either the elf or his injured arm. But he did accept the leaves Elrohir offered him and started chewing the bitter herbs. As he looked away once more, unconsciously bracing his muscles against the pain he expected, his roaming eyes came to rest on his horse.
“It’s all that blasted horse’s fault.” he exclaimed. “The stupid thing just threw me off, for no reason either. Foul beast.”
Elrohir tensed. His hands hovered above the man’s broken arm for a moment as the careless comment broke his concentration. He took a breath, trying to ignore the man’s insult to his horse and to focus instead on healing the man’s injuries. The herbs were probably sharpening the tongue more than the merchant intended, though it still unsettled Elrohir that the man would speak so poorly of his magnificent steed. The younger twin had always had a soft spot for the large animals, spending much of his free time in the stables of Imladris, even as an elfling.
“It is vicious I tell you, dangerous” the man continued to express his anger at his steed, though Elrohir carefully refrained from replying to his tirade.
But the merchant’s words drifted over to Estel as well and the young human found his gaze drawn to the horse, almost by its own accord. It was an imposing stallion. Not quite as tall as his brothers’ elven steeds but big nonetheless. It seemed to be all smooth muscles and unconcealed strength. Estel shuddered at the thought of what the horse could do if it indeed turned vicious.
Oblivious of his elven helper’s reaction to his words the injured man kept talking. “Really I should sell it to the butcher, as meat his muscles might be of some, Aaah!” The man stopped abruptly, a new shout of pain escaping his lips. Estel’s head whipped back around to look at the man and his brother anew. For a brief moment the absurd thought that Elrohir would have purposefully caused the man harm to make him stop speaking ill of the horse shot through his head. But he discarded the notion instantly, and Elrohir confirmed his judgement with his next words.
“I am sorry for the lack of warning, Master Trader, but it is best to align the bones while the patient is distracted and unaware.”
Elrohir placed the injured arm gently over his patient’s chest, asking the man to keep it steady with his other hand, while he focused his attention on the merchant’s injured leg. Placing both hands over the injury there he closed his eyes as he summoned his healing abilities, gently nudging the bones to knit back together and the muscles to relax.
He looked back up at the merchant. “Your leg is luckily only sprained”, he said, not quite the truth, but after the healing it at least wasn’t broken anymore. “If you are gentle with it you should be able to walk. I would not recommend riding, the bones in your arm might misalign again.”
“Ah don’t you worry about that, I wouldn’t ride that vicious monster even if I could. It’s just a shame I can’t now give it the whipping it deserves.”
Elrohir’s face was an unreadable mask. “My brother will bind your arm to help keep the bones steady.”
He threw a look over his shoulder, happy to find Elladan already moving forward to put his words into action. At least he wouldn’t need to explain his desire to step away from the injured man.
He got to his feet a little unsteadily, and as Elladan came over to take his place, the older twin gently squeezed his shoulder, a gesture that was equal parts emotional and physical support.
Leaving his slightly older brother to fix the realigned bones in place, Elrohir instead stepped up to the merchant’s stallion, standing tall and foreboding by the side of the road where they had first encountered it.
The horse had not moved an inch.
Raising his hands in a gesture that conveyed that he meant no harm, much like the one he had earlier used on the horse’s owner, Elrohir stepped closer to the large animal. The stallion watched him warily at first but a combination of softly spoken elvish words and much welcome scratches to the tip of its nose soon convinced the animal of his good intentions.
Estel observed his brother’s actions carefully. It wasn’t unusual for a horse to be on its best behaviour around the younger peredhel twin, but this time, somehow, showing a softer side didn’t make the stallion any less imposing. ‘Vicious monster’ and ‘wild beast’, the descriptions the merchant had used might have been exaggerated, yet the man was clearly injured and the horse was, equally clearly, to blame. A deep unease settled in Estel’s heart as he gazed upon the black horse.
As if sensing his young brother’s distracted thoughts, Elladan looked up from where he was finishing up bandaging the man’s arm and addressed him: “Estel. Go see if you can help Elrohir tend to the horse.”
“You really needn’t bother –“ The merchant hesitated. Where Elrohir’s face had been carefully neutral the look that Elladan now gave him made him quiver. The merchant shut up abruptly, not intending to antagonize the elves that had saved him.
Estel hesitated only a moment before he dutifully turned around and walked over to where Elrohir was now examining the stallion for any signs of injuries.
As he came closer Estel’s steps grew smaller, he still wasn’t sure what to think about the horse. From where he stood he couldn’t see any sign that the big horse might be injured, no explanation for why it should have thrown its rider. No explanation except the one the man himself had suggested – the horse was evil.
It seemed unlikely, but try as he might Estel could not change the unease that settled on him when he saw the stallion, could not shake the words the man had hissed in anger.
He had heard of the spies of the enemy, innocent seeming animals that were controlled to do the bidding of the dark forces. His foster father and Erestor usually talked about birds and small beasts, and while horses didn’t really seem like good spies, Estel found his imagination crawling with images of horses pawing at the ground, leaving messages with their hooves for other darker beings to find.
While his mind conjured up increasingly colourful images of horses of evil, Estel’s feet had carried him the rest of the way to the horse’s side. Elrohir was still silently talking to the horse in elvish, praising it for its beauty and loyalty.
“Loyalty?” Estel asked out loud, before he could stop himself.
Elrohir turned around, clearly startled by his youngest brother’s appearance. The younger twin looked unusually tired and he swayed for a moment before he leaned back against the reassuring bulk of the black stallion at his side. When he saw that it was Estel who had surprised him, he visibly relaxed. Remembering the surprised exclamation of his youngest brother he fixed him with a thoughtful gaze.
“Come here Estel”, the dark-haired elf said, stretching out one hand to beckon the boy over to stand by his side. It was a gesture the twins rarely used anymore since Estel was quickly growing and already at ten years old liked to establish his independence. But the boy came over dutifully, reaching for Elrohir’s hand as he did so.
The younger twin gave the hand a small squeeze. It was both, a sign of gratitude for the trust Estel had shown him, for Elrohir had seen the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when Estel mustered the black stallion, and a gentle request to pay attention to what he was about to say.
“Close your eyes for me, Estel.” Elrohir’s voice was soft and patient and Estel followed the request at once.
“Now try to forget everything you have heard about this horse, everything you think you know about it.”
Estel’s forehead creased up in confusion and concentration. It was a strange request, and difficult. How could he un-hear the words that the merchant had spoken? Nevertheless Estel tried.
“Open your eyes.” Elrohir gave his hand another squeeze then let go of it, instead he used his arm to gesture over the ground. “You are a great tracker already, Estel, what do your eyes tell you about this place? About the horse?”
Estel opened his eyes, surprised to find that he could assess the horse and its surroundings in a neutral manner, the merchant’s insults no longer whispering in his ears. Even though he remembered the words of the injured man, Elrohir’s gentle instructions had freed him from the presumptions that he had made and most of the rather unlikely possibilities his overactive imagination had supplied.
He wouldn’t deny that Elrohir’s praise of his tracking skills had also felt very good.
It was with practiced ease that he noted the indentations of the horse’s own tracks on the ground. One set of hoof prints was drawn deep into the ground, just in front of where it now stood, suggesting that that had been the place that the horse had stopped suddenly, causing its rider to topple over its head and onto the unforgiving ground.
The horse had not moved much afterwards, though there were no bonds holding it in place. A few faint imprints suggested that the horse had moved towards its rider but then backed up again. Another faint, winding imprint was hidden under the hooves’ tracks, too hard to make out on the hard ground.
Estel’s eyes landed on the traders pack, securely placed next to the horses legs. It was bulging with its considerable contents, some of which had fallen out when the horse had stopped so suddenly. Estel could make out various small pouches of the kind that his father used for healing supplies. One of them had opened slightly and a faint orange powder had spilled from it – spices. Estel spent enough time in the kitchens asking for an extra treat that he recognized the powder. He had also heard cook complain about its prize.
Finally Estel noted a bundle of haphazardly strewn stones, some small, others bigger. One was sitting atop one of the horse’s prints, indicating that the stone had landed there after the horse had stepped back. Other stones had drag marks behind them – they had been thrown.
And as Estel came to that conclusion all other parts of the puzzle clicked into place as well. A snake had scared the horse, causing it to unseat a probably inexperienced rider. When the horse had tried to approach its master’s side the merchant had instead thrown stones at the animal, leaving it no choice but to back up. Now it protected the man’s possessions instead.
Elrohir had been right, it was loyal.
As realization dawned Estel’s gaze flicked to his brother, who was smiling at him encouragingly, clearly aware of the realization he had arrived at.
“Now look at the horse again,” the younger twin prompted gently. At his side the black horse flicked its ears nervously but surprisingly Estel realized that his doubts regarding the beast had disappeared. Where before he had seen raw strength and a potential for destruction and ill will, he now only saw the beauty of a flawless coat and a gentle strength in the animal’s dark eyes.
Estel took a step forward, tentatively reaching out one hand to stroke the animal’s nose. The horse lowered its head, as intrigued with the human before it, as Estel was.
Elrohir took a step back from where he had been leaning against the horse’s side to give the two some space. “Go on, introduce yourself.”
Estel’s outstretched hand wavered for a moment as he considered the request. What should he say to a horse? For a moment it felt like a ridiculous idea to have a one sided conversation with an animal, but then the horse stepped forward, gently pressing its nose against Estel’s hand and the boy understood.
It wasn’t a one-sided conversation at all.
Estel was aware that many men seemed to think elves could speak with wild beasts in their own tongue or use some form of enchantment to bend them to their will, but it was much more than that.
And at the same time much less.
A tiny flick of the ear, a small shake of the head was telling Estel all he needed to know about the horse’s intentions. It was like reading tracks on the ground, small details and impressions flowed together to form a picture as clear as the written words in one of the library’s books. Without really realizing he started talking to the horse, repeating some of the compliments Elrohir had given it earlier, after all, he reasoned, even horses liked to hear they’re pretty.
So absorbed was Estel that he didn’t even notice his oldest brother step past him and retrieve the merchant’s pack. The horse gently nudged Estel’s chest, as if it knew that he carried a sugar cube as a treat for his pony in his pocket. He ruffled the horse’s hair playfully and pushed the big head backwards but obligingly dug the sweet out of his pocket and held it out to the stallion.
The display warmed Elrohir’s heart.
Despite expending some of his energy to heal the merchant his weariness seemed to dissipate in the face of Estel’s eagerness to learn and understand. It was good to be reminded that not all men showed as little regard to other living creatures as the merchant had.
At the thought of the man, Elrohir turned around. His twin had recovered the man’s bag earlier and returned it to him. Now he was helping him to his feet. From where he stood Elrohir couldn’t quite hear their exchange but the man seemed to be almost overly courteous, more so perhaps than their help warranted. The merchant’s uninjured arm took tight hold of a thick branch, which he used as a staff. It would help keep his weight of his injured foot without affecting his broken arm that Elladan had tied safely to his chest to keep it in place and limit the dangers of jostling the break.
Even as Elrohir watched the merchant wished his twin farewell then turned and marched off in the opposite direction. Clearly, he was in a hurry to get away from the elves and young boy who had saved him, deeming it enough to thank the one most close to him. Interestingly he made no move to reclaim his horse.
Elladan returned to his twin’s side standing close enough that their shoulders were touching, a silent sign of support. Elrohir recognized it for what it was and gratefully leaned against his brother’s steady frame. He knew that before long Elladan would chide him for extending so much of his healing energy on the injured merchant but for now he enjoyed the luxury of not having to support his own weight fully.
“I see Estel is already making acquaintance with his new horse,” Elladan said, raising his voice to make sure he would get his littlest brother’s attention also.
The effect was instantaneous. Estel’s little head whipped around, his small curls bounding with the sudden movement. “My horse?”
There was unconcealed delight and wonder in the young silver eyes. Elladan gave him a nod and a smile as confirmation. “Happy birthday, Estel.”
Estel practically squealed in delight, then whirled around to inform his new horse of all the apples and treats he was sure to get from now on.
At Elladan’s side the pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Elrohir. “So that is why he left so abruptly, he felt you overpaid and didn’t want to risk you change your mind.”
Elladan grimaced slightly, “I fear he was not very good at placing the value of his noble steed.”
Elrohir understood he was not only referring to the money he had paid to buy the horse but also to the man’s earlier thoughtless comments.
“And yet,” Elladan continued, narrowing his eyes at the pallor of his twin’s skin and the way that Elrohir was still gratefully leaning against his shoulder, “you spent more energy on healing him than you should have.”
Elrohir sighed, he had known that Elladan would bring this up eventually. “He needed our help,” he said simply, knowing that Elladan would agree. For all the worry the older twin was feeling he did not really question the choice Elrohir had made.
Still the younger twin felt the need to elaborate. “He could not have walked on a broken leg and could not ride with broken bones.” With a grimace he admitted: “And I really did not care to build a stretcher and accompany him home.” He had had quite enough of the man’s company.
Elladan squeezed his brother’s shoulder gently, while few elves had as much dealings with the second born than those dwelling in Rivendell, sometimes the differences between their people were made painfully clear.
“Estel seems very gifted,” Elladan offered, changing the topic. And together the sons of Elrond watched their adoptive brother as he ran over to his pony and gently stood in front of the small horse for a moment. He gave it a long look, reading its emotions the way he had learned to do just so recently from the bigger horse. He stretched out his small hand and carefully placed it on the pony’s nose, whispering soft endearments in elvish.
The pony had been Estel’s for years and there was no hesitation in the equine creature as it followed his master over towards the bigger, black horse. Estel introduced horse to pony, trying to explain to each in turn how important and beautiful they both were and that they needn’t worry because cook was his friend and he could always get enough apples for two horses.
When Estel felt that he had explained the situation to his pony and new horse he raced over to his brothers, hugging Elladan with all the ferocity of an excited 10-year old.
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated over and over again for a while before he collected himself and remembered to stand up straight and serious, just like Erestor had shown him.
It lasted for all of five seconds.
Then the young boy launched himself at his other brother, nearly toppling both of them over in his delight. After they had regained their balance somewhat Estel, tightened his hug of the younger twins midsection.
“Thank you Elrohir,” he said earnestly, “for teaching me to talk with horses.”
Elrohir returned his young brother’s hug gently. “Thank you, Estel, for wanting to learn.”
-o0 The End 0o-