Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2021 19:21:56 GMT
Author: Erulisse (one L)
Summary: When a young Aragorn gets shut into Elrond’s study, he chooses an innovative way to try and reach the door latch. A response to the prompt: Alcohol.
Characters/Pairing: Aragorn, Elrond, Gilraen
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
Estel had only been in Rivendell for a few short months, but he had started to settle in. His nightmares had decreased in number, and his self-reliance and confidence had strengthened. He had a favorite hiding place, a place where he felt safe – a cave that he had made his own. This sanctuary happened to be the opening in Elrond's large secondary desk where the Master's legs would fit if he was seated there. Into this opening, against the windowed wall at the back of the tunnel, Estel had collected several items: a tattered, old blanket that he had apportioned as his own; his stuffed bear, well-loved and a bit worse for the wear; and a few of his prized wooden soldiers. Since he had not been in Elrond's house for very long and was still wary of many of the elves in the household, he preferred to amuse himself instead of seeking out entertainment. It never occurred to the young child that the elves might also be a bit uncertain about how to interact with a precocious, four-year-old human.
Today was a rainy, dreary day in early winter, too early for snow, but too late for the vibrant colors of autumn. Since his lessons were complete for the day, he had begged a piece of crumb cake from the kitchen and gone down the hallway to Elrond's study to hide in his cave. He had a picture book tucked under his arm and planned to 'read' it in his sanctuary. As long as he was quiet, his Ada allowed him to stay under the side desk. Elrond only required him to leave the room if he had appointments with other elves or if serious matters needed to be discussed that he should not be privy to.
Estel carefully approached his Ada's doorway. The door was leaned against the frame, but not closed and latched. Listening carefully, he didn’t hear any voices coming from the room, so he slowly pushed it open on its silent hinges. He peeked carefully around the wooden plank to see if his Ada was in the room.
Elrond wasn’t seated at the central desk. This large, beautifully made wooden piece of furniture was where his Ada usually sat while he worked on the accounts or met with his various counselors. The side desk, where Estel was wont to hide, was more often used for spreading out maps, construction plans, and musical scores. It wasn't as deep as the main desk, but had a longer and less cluttered surface area, perfect for larger pieces of parchment.
There was a small amount of additional furniture in the room, a small grouping of chairs and tables at the far end of the room closer to the fireplace. This was where informal meetings and discussions would sometimes occur. The wall to the right of the fireplace featured a large sideboard which was often used to hold a late dinner when Elrond was too busy to eat with his family. Above the sideboard was a glassed-in set of cabinets which featured various wines and spirits, dishes and glasses. These were stored here, allowing Elrond to easily offer hospitality to his guests at any hour without having to bother the kitchen or household staff.
After looking around the room carefully, and seeing that his Ada was not there, Estel entered quickly, pushing the door almost closed again behind him, just the way it had been before he had opened it. He knew he wasn't really allowed to be in the room if his Ada wasn't there working, but thought that Elrond would probably be right back since the door hadn’t been properly closed. He went straight to his cave, deciding just to read his book and be as quiet as a mouse. He crawled under the desk and wrapped himself up in his blanket. The window shed diffuse light onto his book and he quickly lost himself in legend while looking at pictures of the story of Turin.
A soft 'click' suddenly caught his attention. Startled, he realized that he had fallen asleep over his book and that the sun was now low on the horizon. The room was getting darker and he suddenly felt hungry. ‘Oh no,’ he thought. ‘I must be late for dinner.’ He unwrapped himself from the blanket, and carefully placing the book next to his wooden warriors, exited his hidey-hole. Crossing to the entry he realized that the sound he had heard had been someone pulling the door closed from the outside corridor. He stretched up trying to reach the door’s latch, but it was too high for him to reach. He jumped up as high as he could, while trying to grab it, but was unable to hold on and landed back on the floor, stumbling and falling forward. He got back up and continued to try several more times, but it was fruitless.
He was hungry, thirsty, and fast getting frustrated. Tears welled in his eyes, but he told himself, ‘Big boys of four don’t cry, only babies cry,’ and fought to get his tears back under control. Walking away from the doorway, he looked around the room for something that he could use to open the door.
His eyes landed on the windowed cupboard above the sideboard. He remembered a night a bit more than a six-day before when his brothers, ‘Dan’ and ‘Ro’ had been sitting in the chairs close by. They had been sharing a funny looking bottle of wine that they called Dorwin. He had heard them say that the Dorwin wine was very strong. With the literal mind of a young child, he wondered, 'If I drink something that is strong, will that make me strong; maybe even strong enough to open the door?' Deciding that it was worth a try, he moved towards the cupboard.
The sideboard below the cabinets was made of silky-smooth multi-colored stone, polished to a high gloss. The entire wall unit was Dwarven made; beautifully detailed, massive and heavy, built both to hold anything placed on it and to last for yeni. Below the stone surface were various pull-out drawers made to hold a variety of items and linens. Estel began pulling out drawers, staggering their openings and using alternating rows to make a staggered staircase. He then clambered up the makeshift treads towards the glassed-in cupboard beckoning above.
Reaching the sideboard surface, he walked along it looking through the glass for the unusually-shaped bottle that he remembered his brothers handling when they had discussed the 'strong' wine. Spotting it, he carefully opened the cupboard door, grasped the container with both hands, and placed it on top of the sideboard. He then took a drinking glass from another shelf and closed the glass door. It took him two careful trips up and down his makeshift staircase to bring the bottle and glass to floor level, but he was persistent. He left the drawers open. He intended to return the bottle to its shelf after he had gained the strength he needed to unlatch the main door.
'How much should I drink to get strong?' he wondered, holding the glass up and looking at it critically. 'I guess the more I drink, the stronger I’ll get.' Having reached this conclusion, he put the glass on the floor and began trying to pull the cork from the bottle. Straining at the stubborn cork which seemed almost glued into the bottle top, he pulled and twisted, battered and pushed at it and, basically, accomplished nothing. 'How can I get strong if I can’t drink it?' The bottle had stumped him, it was a quandary.
Looking carefully at the bottle and the cork, he decided to try a different approach. He had noticed that among the things his Ada used at his desk was a letter opener...a knife. This decorative item was kept sharp because it was used to open missives and sealing wax on scrolls. It was always either on the desktop or in the right-hand drawer. Estel walked towards his Ada's desk.
Pulling himself onto Elrond's chair, he then turned to face the desktop. There it was, slightly hidden underneath a piece of paper. He could see the handle glinting in the last rays of the sunset. He reached over and grabbed it, then pushed off from the chair back to the floor. He returned to the bottle, knife held in his small hand, and began to cut off the cork flush to the glass top. The room was getting darker with the setting sun and he knew he had to hurry.
'Now I need something to hit the cork, something smaller than the opening,' he thought. Estel walked to the basket of kindling near the fireplace. Searching quickly through the various sticks and branches, he found a few pieces that might be thin but sturdy and brought them back to the bottle. Putting them against the cork he quickly chose one to use.
Standing up, he put the bottle between his legs, bracing it against his body. Taking the stick, he put it against the cut cork, and began hammering the stick and the cork down into the bottle using the haft of the knife. After several minutes of serious pounding the cork suddenly pushed out of the neck and into the bottle. This happened so quickly that he lost his grip and the container tipped over, spilling a puddle of wine over the highly-polished wooden floor of Elrond’s study.
Estel quickly dropped the knife and grabbed for the bottle. He could see the strong he needed spreading all over the floor instead of in the glass where he needed it! Grasping it carefully in both hands, he slowly poured a glass full of the rich, red wine, placing the bottle carefully upright on a dry patch of floor behind him afterward. Taking the filled glass into his hand, he took a small sip of the wine.
His face screwed up in a grimace. 'Oh, this tastes horrible,' he thought as he tasted the rare Dorwinion wine for the first time. But, determined to get the strong he thought the wine held for him, he took another, larger, swallow. The second swallow was a bit easier to stomach, and the third was easier still. He quickly drank the entire glassful.
He began to feel a bit odd. His balance was off, and sounds seemed distorted. He heard an underlying rushing noise, similar to the river that ran near the room. Normally he wouldn't be able to hear the water without opening up the window. He looked carefully around him. The room seemed unchanged and no windows were open. Wondering, 'Should I try the door now? Am I strong enough?' he looked at the doorway across the room from him. It suddenly seemed to be quite far away. 'Maybe I should have one more glass of strong, just to be sure I can reach the latch.'
He put the glass back on the floor, and taking up the bottle, tried to pour another serving. He wasn't quite as neat this time, spilling over the rim of the glass as the liquid approached the top. The bottle rocked a bit as he replaced it on the floor, but it settled down and remained upright. He took the filled glass into his hands and, holding his breath, drank the contents down without a stop.
After he put the glass back on the floor, he panicked. His stomach was rolling, rebelling against him and he felt sick. But the privy was down the hall and he couldn't get out of the room to get there. Tears began falling from his eyes, as he vomited over his shoes and onto the floor. His Ada would be so angry with him. Beginning to cry in earnest, he started walking towards the door, but managed only a few steps before losing his balance and falling, hard, onto the floor. He mewled, weakly, and then was overtaken, falling into a drunken slumber in the middle of the devastated room.
It was this vision that greeted Gilraen and Elrond when they opened the study door a short while later. When Estel had not shown up for dinner, they had started searching for him. They had never imagined he would be in Elrond's study since that door was always tightly closed. Elladan and Elrohir were looking around the grounds outside of the house. Erestor and Glorfindel were looking through the outbuildings, checking the young colt in the stable, and the newly born kittens in the far stall. Elrond and Gilraen had chosen to search the house from top to bottom. They had finally decided to check the study, even though they thought he could not be in there. Then they opened the door and found Estel lying on the floor.
“My baby!” cried out Gilraen.
'My study!' the Master of Rivendell thought silently to himself, while quickly taking in the vision of the devastated room in front of him.
They both ran into the room together and knelt on each side of the small body in the middle of the floor. Elrond quickly checked the boy over for illness or injury, but breathed a sigh of relief. The child was fine, just drunk. Drunk? Why was he drunk, and what had he been drinking? He turned around to take a closer look at the room as he passed the child on into the arms of his anxious mother.
“Why was he drinking Dorwinion wine?” the Master mused in a low tone. He continued his thoughts silently. 'There are other bottles that are easier to reach and that would be more recognizable to the child.' Making a mental note to ask Estel when he awakened, he returned his gaze to Gilraen. “Take him to his room and put him to bed. He'll awaken with a pounding headache, I'm afraid, but I have some medicines I can give him once he wakes.”
“Thank you, Master Elrond,” the young girl said, and bobbing a quick curtsey while holding her son, she turned to leave the room.
Elrond, in the meantime, turned his attention back to the room. Before he called in the staff, he wanted to think a moment about what had gone on here. He looked at the makeshift staircase that Estel had built from the drawers, the cork bobbing in the remaining wine at the bottom of the bottle, and the knife, the remainder of the cork’s top, and the kindling sticks lying in the middle of the room. Nodding his head and smiling at the ingenuity of this young human child who was under his care, he left the room, holding the wine bottle in his hand.
He told the Head of Household about the disarray in his room, knowing that it would be cleaned and put back into order by the morning’s light. He then turned towards his sons' room, the bottle of Dorwinion in his hand. Since the cork was inside the bottle, the wine could no longer be kept indefinitely and should not be wasted. Elrohir and Elladan both loved the strong red wine, so they might as well finish the bottle that they had started a six-day or so earlier. After handing the wine off to the twins, he went into the garden to sit and relax for a while. He looked at the stars and chuckled a bit while thinking about the actions of this newest and youngest member of his household.
Early the next morning, as he had predicted, he was asked to visit Estel and give him a tonic that would help relieve his hangover headache. Elrond entered Gilraen's suite with a powder he had developed to counteract alcohol poisoning in his robe pocket. In a short time he had mixed the power with juice and handed it to the young boy. Estel looked warily at the liquid.
“Drink it up quickly, darling,” Gilraen said. “It will help your head and stomach to feel much better.”
Holding his breath, the child obeyed, drinking the juice as fast as he could and making a face afterward.
“Yes, I know, it isn't the best tasting juice you've ever had,” Elrond said in answer to the child's grimace. “But it will work quickly and you'll feel much better soon.”
“Ada?” said Estel in a soft voice.
“Hmmm?”
“Are you angry with me?”
“Angry? No, Estel, I'm not angry. But...I am disappointed. You know that you aren't supposed to be in my study if I am not there.”
“But Ada...” began the boy. He then seemed to think better of his answer and said no more.
“What were you going to say, Estel? Tell me, please.”
Estel looked carefully at him, then nodded his head and continued. “But Ada, the door was leaned. I thought you had just gone down the hallway and that you would be right back. I curled up to read while waiting for you to come back, but I fell asleep. I didn't wake up until I heard a click from the door. Someone must have pulled it closed. I couldn't reach the latch. I couldn't get out.”
“I see,” Elrond responded. “But why climb your ingenious staircase to get the Dorwinion wine? Why not just wait for someone to recognize that you were missing and eventually find you in my study, or pull a chair from the hearth over to the door and stand on it?”
“I wanted strong,” the young boy said, hanging his head.
“You wanted strong? Do you mean that you wanted some strength?”
“Dan and Ro said that the Dorwin...the wine was strong. I thought if it was strong and I drank some then I would get strong too. Then I could open the door. But it tasted bad. I drank a glass and then...” a tear fell from his eye. “I'm so sorry, Ada. I got sick on your floor. I disobeyed you. I shouldn't have been in your room alone.” He paused and took a breath before continuing. “I know you'll punish me. It's all right, I know I deserve it.”
“Do you feel better now that you drank the juice, young one?” Elrond asked. The child nodded 'yes'. “But you felt sick, and your head hurt a lot when you awakened this morning, yes?”
“Yes, Ada,” was the quiet reply.
“Then I think you have probably been punished enough for your actions since nothing was actually broken and you weren’t really injured,” Elrond said, standing next to the young boy's bedside. “However, you are forbidden from being in my study without me or another adult being present in the room, and that rule will be in effect until you can easily reach the latch to the room on your own. Is that understood and do you agree with the terms of your punishment?”
“Yes, Ada,” Estel said, and then he continued when Elrond raised his eyebrow at him, obviously wanted more of a commitment. “I promise that I will never go into your study unless you or another adult is with me and I will never drink again.”
“Gilraen, is his promise now and his pain from earlier this morn sufficient punishment for you? Should I add anything, or do you have anything that you would like to add?” the elf asked.
“No, Master Elrond. You are very kind. I know that Estel left the room in a real mess last night,” the young mother responded.
On impulse, Estel moved to his knees and held his arms out towards Elrond. The Master of Rivendell reached down and took the boy into his arms, accepting a fierce hug, a sloppy kiss, and a whispered “I love you, Ada,” from his newest son. All in all, it was starting out to be a good day.
Summary: When a young Aragorn gets shut into Elrond’s study, he chooses an innovative way to try and reach the door latch. A response to the prompt: Alcohol.
Characters/Pairing: Aragorn, Elrond, Gilraen
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
Estel had only been in Rivendell for a few short months, but he had started to settle in. His nightmares had decreased in number, and his self-reliance and confidence had strengthened. He had a favorite hiding place, a place where he felt safe – a cave that he had made his own. This sanctuary happened to be the opening in Elrond's large secondary desk where the Master's legs would fit if he was seated there. Into this opening, against the windowed wall at the back of the tunnel, Estel had collected several items: a tattered, old blanket that he had apportioned as his own; his stuffed bear, well-loved and a bit worse for the wear; and a few of his prized wooden soldiers. Since he had not been in Elrond's house for very long and was still wary of many of the elves in the household, he preferred to amuse himself instead of seeking out entertainment. It never occurred to the young child that the elves might also be a bit uncertain about how to interact with a precocious, four-year-old human.
Today was a rainy, dreary day in early winter, too early for snow, but too late for the vibrant colors of autumn. Since his lessons were complete for the day, he had begged a piece of crumb cake from the kitchen and gone down the hallway to Elrond's study to hide in his cave. He had a picture book tucked under his arm and planned to 'read' it in his sanctuary. As long as he was quiet, his Ada allowed him to stay under the side desk. Elrond only required him to leave the room if he had appointments with other elves or if serious matters needed to be discussed that he should not be privy to.
Estel carefully approached his Ada's doorway. The door was leaned against the frame, but not closed and latched. Listening carefully, he didn’t hear any voices coming from the room, so he slowly pushed it open on its silent hinges. He peeked carefully around the wooden plank to see if his Ada was in the room.
Elrond wasn’t seated at the central desk. This large, beautifully made wooden piece of furniture was where his Ada usually sat while he worked on the accounts or met with his various counselors. The side desk, where Estel was wont to hide, was more often used for spreading out maps, construction plans, and musical scores. It wasn't as deep as the main desk, but had a longer and less cluttered surface area, perfect for larger pieces of parchment.
There was a small amount of additional furniture in the room, a small grouping of chairs and tables at the far end of the room closer to the fireplace. This was where informal meetings and discussions would sometimes occur. The wall to the right of the fireplace featured a large sideboard which was often used to hold a late dinner when Elrond was too busy to eat with his family. Above the sideboard was a glassed-in set of cabinets which featured various wines and spirits, dishes and glasses. These were stored here, allowing Elrond to easily offer hospitality to his guests at any hour without having to bother the kitchen or household staff.
After looking around the room carefully, and seeing that his Ada was not there, Estel entered quickly, pushing the door almost closed again behind him, just the way it had been before he had opened it. He knew he wasn't really allowed to be in the room if his Ada wasn't there working, but thought that Elrond would probably be right back since the door hadn’t been properly closed. He went straight to his cave, deciding just to read his book and be as quiet as a mouse. He crawled under the desk and wrapped himself up in his blanket. The window shed diffuse light onto his book and he quickly lost himself in legend while looking at pictures of the story of Turin.
A soft 'click' suddenly caught his attention. Startled, he realized that he had fallen asleep over his book and that the sun was now low on the horizon. The room was getting darker and he suddenly felt hungry. ‘Oh no,’ he thought. ‘I must be late for dinner.’ He unwrapped himself from the blanket, and carefully placing the book next to his wooden warriors, exited his hidey-hole. Crossing to the entry he realized that the sound he had heard had been someone pulling the door closed from the outside corridor. He stretched up trying to reach the door’s latch, but it was too high for him to reach. He jumped up as high as he could, while trying to grab it, but was unable to hold on and landed back on the floor, stumbling and falling forward. He got back up and continued to try several more times, but it was fruitless.
He was hungry, thirsty, and fast getting frustrated. Tears welled in his eyes, but he told himself, ‘Big boys of four don’t cry, only babies cry,’ and fought to get his tears back under control. Walking away from the doorway, he looked around the room for something that he could use to open the door.
His eyes landed on the windowed cupboard above the sideboard. He remembered a night a bit more than a six-day before when his brothers, ‘Dan’ and ‘Ro’ had been sitting in the chairs close by. They had been sharing a funny looking bottle of wine that they called Dorwin. He had heard them say that the Dorwin wine was very strong. With the literal mind of a young child, he wondered, 'If I drink something that is strong, will that make me strong; maybe even strong enough to open the door?' Deciding that it was worth a try, he moved towards the cupboard.
The sideboard below the cabinets was made of silky-smooth multi-colored stone, polished to a high gloss. The entire wall unit was Dwarven made; beautifully detailed, massive and heavy, built both to hold anything placed on it and to last for yeni. Below the stone surface were various pull-out drawers made to hold a variety of items and linens. Estel began pulling out drawers, staggering their openings and using alternating rows to make a staggered staircase. He then clambered up the makeshift treads towards the glassed-in cupboard beckoning above.
Reaching the sideboard surface, he walked along it looking through the glass for the unusually-shaped bottle that he remembered his brothers handling when they had discussed the 'strong' wine. Spotting it, he carefully opened the cupboard door, grasped the container with both hands, and placed it on top of the sideboard. He then took a drinking glass from another shelf and closed the glass door. It took him two careful trips up and down his makeshift staircase to bring the bottle and glass to floor level, but he was persistent. He left the drawers open. He intended to return the bottle to its shelf after he had gained the strength he needed to unlatch the main door.
'How much should I drink to get strong?' he wondered, holding the glass up and looking at it critically. 'I guess the more I drink, the stronger I’ll get.' Having reached this conclusion, he put the glass on the floor and began trying to pull the cork from the bottle. Straining at the stubborn cork which seemed almost glued into the bottle top, he pulled and twisted, battered and pushed at it and, basically, accomplished nothing. 'How can I get strong if I can’t drink it?' The bottle had stumped him, it was a quandary.
Looking carefully at the bottle and the cork, he decided to try a different approach. He had noticed that among the things his Ada used at his desk was a letter opener...a knife. This decorative item was kept sharp because it was used to open missives and sealing wax on scrolls. It was always either on the desktop or in the right-hand drawer. Estel walked towards his Ada's desk.
Pulling himself onto Elrond's chair, he then turned to face the desktop. There it was, slightly hidden underneath a piece of paper. He could see the handle glinting in the last rays of the sunset. He reached over and grabbed it, then pushed off from the chair back to the floor. He returned to the bottle, knife held in his small hand, and began to cut off the cork flush to the glass top. The room was getting darker with the setting sun and he knew he had to hurry.
'Now I need something to hit the cork, something smaller than the opening,' he thought. Estel walked to the basket of kindling near the fireplace. Searching quickly through the various sticks and branches, he found a few pieces that might be thin but sturdy and brought them back to the bottle. Putting them against the cork he quickly chose one to use.
Standing up, he put the bottle between his legs, bracing it against his body. Taking the stick, he put it against the cut cork, and began hammering the stick and the cork down into the bottle using the haft of the knife. After several minutes of serious pounding the cork suddenly pushed out of the neck and into the bottle. This happened so quickly that he lost his grip and the container tipped over, spilling a puddle of wine over the highly-polished wooden floor of Elrond’s study.
Estel quickly dropped the knife and grabbed for the bottle. He could see the strong he needed spreading all over the floor instead of in the glass where he needed it! Grasping it carefully in both hands, he slowly poured a glass full of the rich, red wine, placing the bottle carefully upright on a dry patch of floor behind him afterward. Taking the filled glass into his hand, he took a small sip of the wine.
His face screwed up in a grimace. 'Oh, this tastes horrible,' he thought as he tasted the rare Dorwinion wine for the first time. But, determined to get the strong he thought the wine held for him, he took another, larger, swallow. The second swallow was a bit easier to stomach, and the third was easier still. He quickly drank the entire glassful.
He began to feel a bit odd. His balance was off, and sounds seemed distorted. He heard an underlying rushing noise, similar to the river that ran near the room. Normally he wouldn't be able to hear the water without opening up the window. He looked carefully around him. The room seemed unchanged and no windows were open. Wondering, 'Should I try the door now? Am I strong enough?' he looked at the doorway across the room from him. It suddenly seemed to be quite far away. 'Maybe I should have one more glass of strong, just to be sure I can reach the latch.'
He put the glass back on the floor, and taking up the bottle, tried to pour another serving. He wasn't quite as neat this time, spilling over the rim of the glass as the liquid approached the top. The bottle rocked a bit as he replaced it on the floor, but it settled down and remained upright. He took the filled glass into his hands and, holding his breath, drank the contents down without a stop.
After he put the glass back on the floor, he panicked. His stomach was rolling, rebelling against him and he felt sick. But the privy was down the hall and he couldn't get out of the room to get there. Tears began falling from his eyes, as he vomited over his shoes and onto the floor. His Ada would be so angry with him. Beginning to cry in earnest, he started walking towards the door, but managed only a few steps before losing his balance and falling, hard, onto the floor. He mewled, weakly, and then was overtaken, falling into a drunken slumber in the middle of the devastated room.
It was this vision that greeted Gilraen and Elrond when they opened the study door a short while later. When Estel had not shown up for dinner, they had started searching for him. They had never imagined he would be in Elrond's study since that door was always tightly closed. Elladan and Elrohir were looking around the grounds outside of the house. Erestor and Glorfindel were looking through the outbuildings, checking the young colt in the stable, and the newly born kittens in the far stall. Elrond and Gilraen had chosen to search the house from top to bottom. They had finally decided to check the study, even though they thought he could not be in there. Then they opened the door and found Estel lying on the floor.
“My baby!” cried out Gilraen.
'My study!' the Master of Rivendell thought silently to himself, while quickly taking in the vision of the devastated room in front of him.
They both ran into the room together and knelt on each side of the small body in the middle of the floor. Elrond quickly checked the boy over for illness or injury, but breathed a sigh of relief. The child was fine, just drunk. Drunk? Why was he drunk, and what had he been drinking? He turned around to take a closer look at the room as he passed the child on into the arms of his anxious mother.
“Why was he drinking Dorwinion wine?” the Master mused in a low tone. He continued his thoughts silently. 'There are other bottles that are easier to reach and that would be more recognizable to the child.' Making a mental note to ask Estel when he awakened, he returned his gaze to Gilraen. “Take him to his room and put him to bed. He'll awaken with a pounding headache, I'm afraid, but I have some medicines I can give him once he wakes.”
“Thank you, Master Elrond,” the young girl said, and bobbing a quick curtsey while holding her son, she turned to leave the room.
Elrond, in the meantime, turned his attention back to the room. Before he called in the staff, he wanted to think a moment about what had gone on here. He looked at the makeshift staircase that Estel had built from the drawers, the cork bobbing in the remaining wine at the bottom of the bottle, and the knife, the remainder of the cork’s top, and the kindling sticks lying in the middle of the room. Nodding his head and smiling at the ingenuity of this young human child who was under his care, he left the room, holding the wine bottle in his hand.
He told the Head of Household about the disarray in his room, knowing that it would be cleaned and put back into order by the morning’s light. He then turned towards his sons' room, the bottle of Dorwinion in his hand. Since the cork was inside the bottle, the wine could no longer be kept indefinitely and should not be wasted. Elrohir and Elladan both loved the strong red wine, so they might as well finish the bottle that they had started a six-day or so earlier. After handing the wine off to the twins, he went into the garden to sit and relax for a while. He looked at the stars and chuckled a bit while thinking about the actions of this newest and youngest member of his household.
Early the next morning, as he had predicted, he was asked to visit Estel and give him a tonic that would help relieve his hangover headache. Elrond entered Gilraen's suite with a powder he had developed to counteract alcohol poisoning in his robe pocket. In a short time he had mixed the power with juice and handed it to the young boy. Estel looked warily at the liquid.
“Drink it up quickly, darling,” Gilraen said. “It will help your head and stomach to feel much better.”
Holding his breath, the child obeyed, drinking the juice as fast as he could and making a face afterward.
“Yes, I know, it isn't the best tasting juice you've ever had,” Elrond said in answer to the child's grimace. “But it will work quickly and you'll feel much better soon.”
“Ada?” said Estel in a soft voice.
“Hmmm?”
“Are you angry with me?”
“Angry? No, Estel, I'm not angry. But...I am disappointed. You know that you aren't supposed to be in my study if I am not there.”
“But Ada...” began the boy. He then seemed to think better of his answer and said no more.
“What were you going to say, Estel? Tell me, please.”
Estel looked carefully at him, then nodded his head and continued. “But Ada, the door was leaned. I thought you had just gone down the hallway and that you would be right back. I curled up to read while waiting for you to come back, but I fell asleep. I didn't wake up until I heard a click from the door. Someone must have pulled it closed. I couldn't reach the latch. I couldn't get out.”
“I see,” Elrond responded. “But why climb your ingenious staircase to get the Dorwinion wine? Why not just wait for someone to recognize that you were missing and eventually find you in my study, or pull a chair from the hearth over to the door and stand on it?”
“I wanted strong,” the young boy said, hanging his head.
“You wanted strong? Do you mean that you wanted some strength?”
“Dan and Ro said that the Dorwin...the wine was strong. I thought if it was strong and I drank some then I would get strong too. Then I could open the door. But it tasted bad. I drank a glass and then...” a tear fell from his eye. “I'm so sorry, Ada. I got sick on your floor. I disobeyed you. I shouldn't have been in your room alone.” He paused and took a breath before continuing. “I know you'll punish me. It's all right, I know I deserve it.”
“Do you feel better now that you drank the juice, young one?” Elrond asked. The child nodded 'yes'. “But you felt sick, and your head hurt a lot when you awakened this morning, yes?”
“Yes, Ada,” was the quiet reply.
“Then I think you have probably been punished enough for your actions since nothing was actually broken and you weren’t really injured,” Elrond said, standing next to the young boy's bedside. “However, you are forbidden from being in my study without me or another adult being present in the room, and that rule will be in effect until you can easily reach the latch to the room on your own. Is that understood and do you agree with the terms of your punishment?”
“Yes, Ada,” Estel said, and then he continued when Elrond raised his eyebrow at him, obviously wanted more of a commitment. “I promise that I will never go into your study unless you or another adult is with me and I will never drink again.”
“Gilraen, is his promise now and his pain from earlier this morn sufficient punishment for you? Should I add anything, or do you have anything that you would like to add?” the elf asked.
“No, Master Elrond. You are very kind. I know that Estel left the room in a real mess last night,” the young mother responded.
On impulse, Estel moved to his knees and held his arms out towards Elrond. The Master of Rivendell reached down and took the boy into his arms, accepting a fierce hug, a sloppy kiss, and a whispered “I love you, Ada,” from his newest son. All in all, it was starting out to be a good day.