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Chapter Text

First Meetings

Aragorn II Elessar

Very carefully, Estel’s feet lifted over the next set of roots. Even though Imladris was long behind him, he was still afraid that the guard’s elven hearing would pick up on his footsteps.

If they find out, they’ll worry, a voice in his head chimed up. Quickly, Estel tried to wave it away. The little boy was determined that they would never find out in the first place.

It was them who didn’t want to go with me, so it’s their own fault!, he decided inwardly.

Indeed, his two brothers had refused to ride out with him to the forest today. Something about not wanting to leave their father alone on a day like this. At 8 years old, Estel barely understood the concept of grief, especially how it worked for elves, so he had moaned and complained about being bored all day yesterday, with no effect at all.

“Plus, we’re awaiting guests. Really, we can go when Legolas is here, he’ll enjoy the flowery glades as well.”, Elrohir had reassured him and Elladan beside him had laughed.

“Last time we threw him in the nearby stream at the waterfall when he stood contemplating it, remember?”, the other twin added with an amused and fond smile.

“I do! We all got a good chiding when we got back, all drenched right before the feast.” Both of them giggled and obviously deemed the topic over. Estel didn’t know who this Legolas person was, but he sure as hell hated him in that very moment. He had planned this as a day between his brothers and him and the stubborn streak steadily developing inside him had said that if they didn’t want to go, he’d have to go find somebody else. He just wanted to see the glades! And pick some flowers that only grew in that area in these spring days, the bluebells. A crown of them would surely cheer his brothers up, maybe even his father. Estel distantly remembered Elrond telling him that their roots were good for wounds.

To his demise, his mother had also gone out on an errand and wasn’t present to go with him either. His Ada was even more absent than his brothers in the last days, so he hadn’t even dared to ask. Even Glorfindel and Erestor were busy, usually very open to entertaining the human child.

Seeing no other option, Estel had decided that it was time he did something on his own. And going into the wooden glades wasn’t that dramatic anyway, normally they only rode for half an hour, so how far could it be?

Originally, he had planned to take his foal, but the stables had been occupied, so he couldn’t risk sneaking around in there. With visitors arriving, everything was being readied for their horses to rest in.

Pretty upset about the whole situation, he had finally decided to sneak out right after bedtime so he could be at the flower fields in the morning and maybe make it back by dinner.

His plan went well…until he lost the path.

For his last journeys out of Imladris, his brothers had always been there to guide him along the winding paths of the forest and the mountains. They knew the way around the valley like the back of their hand after all. Estel however found it difficult to remember the way as it had been last year in late summer when he went there and it was now early spring…and colder than he had anticipated. Not even considering that a way by horseback was different than on foot anyway.

Rubbing his freezing hands together and blowing his breath into them, Estel suddenly stopped.

Was that a light up ahead?

Wow! He couldn’t believe his luck. There were travelers around Imladris sometimes, it was rare but it happened, and they often traveled to the valley to bring goods to the elves or were rangers his brothers or mother knew. For his young age Estel did not meet many humans but those he did were often associated with the elves in some way so maybe now he’d get to meet new people! Oh, maybe they were the elven travelers on their way to Imladris! He could rest at their fire!

Oh Valar, he was freezing.

And hungry.

So with much more excitement than he was going to admit later, Estel hurried his steps towards the light dancing between the trees. The warm glow of a fire was clear cut in the eerie darkness around him. Another reason why he hurried was that the darkness had made him more scared than he anticipated, too. The moon was barely a small sliver today and didn’t provide much light at all.

Considering this, him stumbling and cutting his clothes wasn’t really a surprise now was it?

Still freezing, hungry and exhausted, Estel didn’t even stop and listen or think before blindly stumbling into the clearing, right into the firelight.

He hadn’t even heard the loud laughs and clashing of metal until he was already spotted.

The clearing was suddenly very quiet. Around ten human men stood or sat around the roaring fire, food cooking over it and bottles of mead in hand. They had stopped in whatever they were doing to look at the nicely dressed but torn little boy, who stared right back at them.

“Now what do we have here?” one of them asked, maybe their leader. He had a scruffy beard and his brown clothes looked well worn. His hand held a roughly smitten sword which he now lowered.

“I’m…” Estel was suddenly struggling for words. He realized that he should have stopped to look what awaited him. These people looked like hunters, judging by their weapons maybe not just tame ones.

“Are you lost, boy?” asked another one. His face was friendlier and he tilted his head in obvious sympathy. “Where are your parents?” something in Estel relaxed a little bit. He was still on edge, something in him urging him to turn and run away. But what would it gain? They could easily run after him, maybe knew these parts even better than him. In his confusion he had no idea where to run to, anyway.

So he just nodded quickly, then made a face as if to think what to say.

“I ran away.” He just said honestly. “I wanted to get to the glades.” His feet slowly took him closer to the fire, the warmth and smell of food drawing him as if on instinct. The hunters were silent for a second, clearly stunned by this.

“May I…rest here for a bit?” he asked politely. His Westron was passable enough he hoped, at least his Mother always spoke to him in this way.

“May you? Sure, boy, come over here, have a seat and some stew.” Okay, maybe his speech was a little different? When these men talked, they had a drawl to their voice that he was unfamiliar with, a kind of rough way of pronouncing words. He still hesitated, but his growling stomach and aching …everything urged him forward slowly but surely.

Soon he had a bowl of stew and a spoon and was sitting by the fire, enjoying its warmth. He barely even noticed the glances the men threw at him or at each other, silently communicating or whispering among themselves.

“So.” The leader said after a few minutes they let him eat in silence.  He crouched next to him and also tilted his head now, eyes slightly narrowed. “Little rebel. What’s your name?”

“Estel.” The boy said without much hesitation.

“Estel? What kind of name’s that? Never heard it before.” The leader mused. His stomach now a little more filled and feeling more secure about the situation he was in, Estel decided he might as well enlighten them. Maybe they knew the elves and had just never heard much of their language. It was quite common with some rangers as far as he knew.

“It’s Sindarin for ‘Hope’. My father said it was very befitting of me.” Stunned faces filled the round of men who had now gathered around the firelight more tightly. Clearly the little lost boy was more interesting than whatever they had previously done. Estel smiled a little, maybe they were stunned he knew Sindarin.

“Did he now. And where does your father live? I’ve never heard of anybody speaking that language in the nearby villages.” It seemed he was just curious, now sitting on the floor next to Estel and exchanging a short glance with a few of his men. Estel, still kind of focused on his stew, did not notice some of them grasping their weapons more tightly. The boy hesitated for a second and looked up from his bowl.

“He’s from Imladris. Oh wait, you may know it as Rivendell. Why do you ask?” he put down his spoon, realizing with a jolt that he was indeed fully surrounded now. Had it been this many men before? By the Valar why did they look so imposing from down here? And why had he decided to trust them again??

“I see.” The leader just said.

Then, from one second to the next, everything got much, much worse.

The lead hunter nodded at one of his men behind Estel, that one grabbed him and pulled him up, his bowl of stew flying to the ground and spilling the food in the trampled grass. Estel gasped, then screamed, when one of the other men proceeded to bind his hands.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked, clear tremble in his voice. He didn’t want to seem scared though and struggled. “Let me go!”

“No we won’t, little brat. I imagine with your fancy clothes and speak that your so called ‘father’ isn’t poor. And If he’s dealing with elves he’s maybe even loaded. And if you ran away I bet he’d still pay a hefty amount to get you back. Don’t you think so?”

Estel stared for a few seconds, shocked. The fire suddenly did nothing to warm him and a heavy chill ran down his spine. The wind going through the trees seemed fearful itself as the realization dawned on him that somehow, he had walked right into a clearing of humans that were up and ready to kidnap him for Elrond’s gold. They didn’t even know that when he said father he meant the lord of Rivendell himself, they just assumed it was a rich human having dealings in the valley. What would they do if they found out? How could he be so naïve to think them simply curious?

His bound hands were balled to fists but he had to fight the strong urge not to cry out of anger and frustration and maybe fear. Crying would only make them pity him and he couldn’t use their pity.

He just wanted to be home.

“No, I ran away. They’re not going to give you anything.” He protested and tried to twist free. This only earned a hollow laugh from some of his captors while they dragged him to a nearby tree that surrounded the clearing. Oh how he wished he could climb that tree right now like he did with so many in Imladris.

“NO! Let me GO! ADAAA! ELLADAN! ELROHIR! Help!!” he screamed their names on the top of his lungs, hoping he had somehow wandered in circles and their elven hearing would pick it up. They always heard when he didn’t want them to hear, why not now? In his panic he switched to Sindarin, confusing his captors, but not enough to deter them from binding him to that tree.

“Somebody, please!! Somebody help m-“ he was interrupted when one of the men roughly shoved a piece of stinking cloth in his mouth to silence him.

“Shut up, brat. Don’t want anything to happen to you do we now?” He threatened and lifted a knife to his neck to prove his point. “We still need you for leverage after all.” Then he was gone again, leaving Estel to stare around the group desperately for someone, anyone, who showed more sympathy, more compassion.

He had never known such cruelty, at least not by humans. The one encounter with Orcs that his mother told him about he did not remember, he had been too young.

None of the hunters –bandits?- however showed such compassion, not even the one who had greeted him with a friendlier tone, he pointedly turned away from his gaze. One of them stayed by his side to guard him while the others went back to their food or to practicing their combat. Their moves were so very different to what Estel always watched his brothers accomplish and it only fueled his frustration that they were not here to show these idiots just what kind of fools they were.

The clearing wasn’t quiet anymore now but nobody was paying attention to him either. The guard next to him attacked some piece of wood with his knife and the others were busy in some other way.

“Who has the prettiest handwriting, boys? We’re gonna write a letter to that boys father” the leader then screamed into the clearing and earned a round of laughs.

Estel tried to not imagine what Elrond’s face would look like when he received that letter. Maybe they didn’t even know he was gone yet and when they woke up in the morning they received a ransom notice? His Ada had already been so sad…

In the relative privacy of being ignored while tied to a tree, he felt the tears creep down his face. He didn’t know if they had been there before he allowed them to be or not, but now they were conscious and now he wanted to curl into himself and weep, but the tied hands only allowed him to draw his legs close to his body to rest his head a little bit.

A rustle above his head drew his attention and made him pause mid sob.

Wearily, he gazed up into the canopy of the trees. Maybe someone had heard him and they were approaching through the trees to not alarm the men? Though he had never seen his brothers tree walk, he knew that they were able to. They had once mumbled something about Noldor elves not being made for trees but he hadn’t really heard them or received an answer as to why.

Who stared back at him though, was not one of his brothers.

There in the tree above him sat an elf. If not for his golden-blond hair he would have blended with the canopy perfectly as his clothing was in shades of green and brown, unlike anything Estel had ever seen his brothers or any elf in Rivendell wear. They seemed to be hunting clothes and the boy vaguely made out a bow and quiver on his back.

When he saw Estel return his gaze, he winked and smiled.

Then he was gone.

Chapter Text

Stunned, Estel looked around the clearing if anyone had noticed. None of them seemed to have any idea there was an elf this close nearby. Or anybody for that matter. The leader leaned over one of his men who was writing the letter, giving him instructions while a few of them sat at the fire nearby, laughing at the words as if this was some kind of play. He had a guard nearby, but didn’t seem to think him looking up was suspicious.

All of this was interrupted when an arrow hit the ground, hard and fast.

It flew past the leader’s head so closely that the tip drew blood on his ear, but the man had had no time to react at all.

“WHOA what the hell?!?” he yelled, holding his ear and looked around at his men.

“Which of you idiots shot that?!” he demanded to know. None of his men seemed guilty, as none even held their bows. He whirled around as one guy had already lifted up the arrow from the ground, where it stuck as if embedded with great force.

“It has a note.” He commented and the Leader glared at him, tearing the note from his hands. Grumbling, he read it aloud to the rest.

“’Let the boy go or we will let the rage of the Valar rain upon you.’ HA!” he laughed and held up the arrow. “Whoever you are you couldn’t even aim properly, why should I be afraid of some lowly cowards not even showing themselves?” he boasted, but still he held up his hand, telling his men to ready themselves. They got out their shields, facing the direction the arrow had come from.

No, you’re wrong, Estel thought, that was a warning shot.

As if to prove a point, another arrow was shot from the trees. This one cut off the head of the first arrow –still in the leader’s hand- clearly and embedded himself in the leg of one of the other hunters. Screaming, the man went down, holding the wound in pain.

That arrow had come from a completely different direction.

Estel observed the scene with wonder, eyes wide open and tears forgotten.

“Shit.” The leader whispered and threw down the first arrow. “Get the boy!” he yelled and the guard next to him scrambled closer, starting to cut his bonds.

When a sudden falling tree branch hit him square in the head, knocking him out, Estel gasped and drew back, afraid that the tree was somehow falling apart and the next branch would hit him.

Another hunter started to run over, when suddenly something landed right in front of Estel.

It was the elf, the blond one he had seen in the tree. His drop to the ground had made no noise and he stood up slowly now, bow already drawn and three arrows between his fingers. Estel couldn’t see much of him as his back was turned but to him, with the firelight being the only source of brightness, this moment seemed brilliant.

“Not a step closer.” He warned, now fully standing.  His Westron seemed rusty but clear, his voice icy in this warning, threatening tone. In his full height he towered far over any of the men. His shoulders were wider than Estel’s brother’s and the longbow he held was drawn to his cheek, holding it in this position as if it wasn’t straining his muscles one bit.

The men were stunned, some of them –if not all- clearly seeing an elf for the first time.

“Have they harmed you, Estel?” he asked in Sindarin.

Now if Estel hadn’t been completely stunned before, he was now. How did this elf know who he was? Had he met him before and Estel had just forgotten? And what was that weird Accent in his Elvish?? He’d never heard that way of speak before.

Since he was still bound, he could not answer with words. So he just shook his head when he saw the elf slightly looking in his direction.

The men around the clearing seemed to think his short inattention to be an opening and one of the closest ones attacked him with his sword. Estel grunted out a warning but the elf didn’t need it. He simply stepped aside, elbowed the man in the head and he dropped to the ground with a grunt. The bow was back in place within a second and the other men halted in their steps, now unsure.

“I will not harm you if you let me leave with him quietly.”

“And what keeps us from shooting you when you turn to free him, huh, youngling?” asked the Leader, clearly mad at the inability of his men to bring down that one elf. A few in the back also had bows, and they were slowly drawing them too. Estel squirmed in his bonds, certain that this was true and he didn’t want his newfound savior to be just another captive. Or worse.

The elf did not react to his jabs however and just tilted his head.

“Youngling?”, he asked. Estel could not see his smirk but he could certainly hear it.

“Estel, lift your arms.” He just spoke to him again and suddenly, Estel noticed that the pressure around his wrists had subsided. Immediately, he sprang to his feet, the feeling of freedom swimming through him.

Whoever this new elf was, he didn’t even care anymore, but he was most certainly a genius.

“Hannon Le.” he whispered and snuck up to the elf’s side. In turn the other just nodded and slowly backed up into the forest.

“My horse is waiting for us a few feet away.” He said and Estel just nodded.

“What about the others?” the boy asked, clearly thinking that more elves were waiting around in the trees. The elf just smiled, clearly amused.

“There are no others. I just bluffed.” He admitted, the smirk mischievous. He still had his bow drawn and as he slowly backed up with Estel behind him, the men wearily followed, obviously not ready to give up their prey.

“Damnit.” He heard the elf curse. “We’ll have to be quick. Can you run?” he asked without looking back at Estel.

“I think so.” The boy answered with a nod, glaring at the men with a mixture of fear and resentment. His fingers curled around the fabric of his new friend’s trousers and he felt unsettlingly like a small child in doing so.

“Have your brothers taught you to climb a horse yet?” was another question from the elf and Estel nodded eagerly. He glanced behind them and indeed, there was an elven horse waiting in the dim light of the moon, looking at Estel with curiosity.

“This is Bethron, she will take you back home.” He said, a fond smile on his lips. Estel stopped short when he could make out a little more of the animal. It was white and elegant, sure, but there were barely any provisions on its back and-

“There’s no saddle.” Estel observed, his stomach dropping. Elladan and Elrohir had taught him to climb a grown horse, yes, but not without a saddle on. How did this elf get here with no saddle and headcollar on?

The elf bit his lip, clearly seeing the problem that approached them. If he helped Estel mount the men would attack, certainly hurting them severely. The elf had pissed them off enough that they probably didn’t care anymore if they got ransom or killed them. The glares they shot him from between the trees were pretty telling. It was probably just to his demonstration of quick reflexes and looming threat that there were more elves in the trees that they didn’t.

They were however starting to surround them from both sides, probably figuring that the elf couldn’t attack them all at once if one came from behind. If they wanted to escape, they really did have to hurry.

Estel felt the elf’s muscles tense, and then suddenly relax as he let out a breath.

And lowered his bow.

No, what…no what was he doing??

“You can have me instead but let the boy go.” He stated bluntly. Again, Estel felt his blood run cold, this time for his newly won friend, not for himself. No! These men were bad news, he couldn’t just leave alone and let him stay in captivity! The men were quiet, weapons still drawn, the leader still pissed but his eyes were narrowed. He was listening.

“The horse can carry him home. My people will pay you much more handsomely than his father would for his safe return.” Then he whispered behind him. “climb on my shoulder and get on the horse.” Estel shook his head, the tears in his eyes threatening to come back, mocking him.

“No I won’t leave you with them!” he whispered in protest. The elf smiled at him warmly, still half turned to the front.

“That’s brave of you but trust me to be able to handle this, okay? I will be alright. Your brothers must be worried sick for you and I’d rather have you be save with them.” Estel glared at him. Again, he was treated as a child. He hated this, elves and their superiority complex!!

Meanwhile the men were coming too close for comfort. The leader had still not said a word to the elf’s offer and now suddenly smiled.

“Why don’t I just take you both then?” and from all sides, the men started to scream and attack.

The elf seemed prepared for this. He took Estel below the shoulders, lifted him as if he weighted nothing, sat him on the horse and gave the horse a clap on his backside.

“Take him to Imladris”, he ordered to his trusty companion, who neighed and galloped off.

Chapter Text

“Stop, I said! Don’t you want to save your master, too?!”

And just like that, Bethron halted her hurrying gallop and came to a stand in the middle of the path. It was dark around them except for some fireflies and the sudden silence made Estel swallow. The horse shook its head and waited, trying to look at him on her back.

What was he thinking? The thought of these men alone made him shiver. Wasn’t it better to just return back home and let his brothers take care of this? They could free the elf and judge for the men’s punishment for what they did.

But…this was his mess. He got himself into this by being stupid and naïve and trusting strangers. Crawling back to his brothers and father to beg for their help seemed so childish to do. Especially after the stranger he could actually trust sacrificed himself to get him out of the whole situation. That wasn’t fair. He should never have been put in that position for coming to help him in the first place.

He had screamed to the Valar for help and they had provided. And now he was supposed to let another stay in this situation because he was scared to solve it himself?

“We have to help him. Who knows what they’re doing with him. And then we can go to Imladris together. What do you say?”

The horse neighed, then slowly turned around and walked back into the direction they came from. This time slower, quieter. Yes, that was good. He had to be honest with himself that direct confrontation was a bad idea here.

He would sneak in, get the elf out, and turn right back around.

When they got back to the clearing, Estel’s stomach was telling him this was a bad idea. He could be home in his bed right now, being fussed over by his brothers and father.

But no! He could still have that, as soon as everyone was back to safety, not just him!

So, taking a deep breath, he dismounted the elven horse as quietly as he could, and snuck up between the bushes, careful this time not to step on anything. The adrenaline and the thrill were making him more cautious and he succeeded to not alert the men in the clearing this time.

Hiding behind a bush, he scooped out the situation.

The fire was still going, it was lower now though. The men were waving around their beers and laughing, two of them held up ivory blades that were certainly not there before and Estel concluded that they had rid the elf of his weapons and were now admiring them. One bandit had the elf’s bow, too, grinning and holding it near the fire threateningly.

The elf was tied to a tree, just like Estel had been, but with tons more rope, as if the men were suspicious of his superior strength and the trick he pulled with freeing Estel from his bonds.

The elf obviously tried not to react to the jabs directed his way but one could see him struggling with his bonds. Estel knew that many elves valued their weapons dearly, they were often ancient, passed down or just very well suited for them.

“He really didn’t have anything on him except the weapons?” the leader asked by the fire.

“Nope, Boss. Just those.” The one with the bow in hand answered.

“Probably kept the rest on his horse.” Another suggested. The leader shook his head.

“No, the horse wasn’t packed either. He must have come from close by. Probably a Rivendell elf, too.” He let his subordinate hand him one of the ivory blades and studied it intently. Then his head shot up and he yelled:

“Hey, elf boy, where you from?”

The elf just narrowed his eyes and adjusted his seating, as if uncomfortable. Estel briefly wondered if he had been hurt by them before being bound, but he saw no blood. One of the men closest to him suddenly hit him in the face with the back of his hand, prompting a gasp from Estel he suppressed by hitting his hands over his own mouth.

The elf however had heard this and despite his head almost not moving or reacting from the hit except shooting the man a deadly glare, immediately reacted to Estel’s gasp, his blue eyes shooting in his direction and spotting him. His eyes widened, but the men didn’t notice except thinking it was the reaction to the slap they gave him as the elf quickly looked away again.

“My boss asked you a question, weasel. You better answer him!” the man yelled and raised his hand for another slap. A quick glance in Estel’s direction told the boy his behavior would have been different, had he not known the human boy to be there.

“Mirkwood.” He snarled, as if answering clearly displeased him, as did calling it thus.

Oh. Oooh! He was one of the elves traveling from Greenwood the Great to visit Elrond that his brothers had told him about! Estel remembered hoping that the people around the fire were those elves but no, he was instead rescued from these thugs by one of them.

A wood elf…this was a wood elf! This explained so many things, for example how he got from one tree to another so quickly, how clearly the trees spoke to him, his weird accent (probably silvan) and maybe even how he was able to free Estel without even touching him. Had the tree done it for him? He had heard from his brothers that wood elves were more akin to communicate with trees and plants in general but never that they directly manipulated their behavior like this.

The men’s reaction was very different from Estel’s. In contrast to his inner excitement, they drew back from him a little, eyes wide and clearly stunned.

“Mirkwood? But that’s way off, behind the mountains even. Right, boss?”

“Isn’t that the cursed forest nobody ever comes out of again?”

“They have elves there?”

“Silence!” the boss finally interrupted. He got up from his place by the warm fire and stalked over to the elf, crouching in front of him and holding a blade to his neck. Estel felt his pulse rise, heart pumping in his ears. No, please don’t, he thought.

“What’s your standing there, elf?” he asked, suspiciously eyeing clothing and weapons he wore, pointing to the one he held.

“These are some fine blades. So? What is it?”

Again, the elf stared. He seemed unaffected by the blade to his throat and glared the man down with a frosty snarl. Estel could see how the boss almost recoiled while his men indeed took a step back. The elf may be tied up, but he still terrified them. Especially with those eyes screaming at them, making them feel small and insignificant.

“Just one of the guards.” He spat. Had Estel known him longer than this he would have been able to spot the clear lie as soon as it came from his lips.

“Guards? Of what?”, the leader followed up with another question, clearly curious now. Maybe he thought the elves were hiding some kind of treasure in that forest.

“Like I’d tell you that, human. It is no concern of yours.” Immediately, the leader raised the blade in his hand and cut right across the elves cheek, leaving a bleeding wound. Estel flinched and closed his eyes, afraid of what was to come. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything from here. He had barely had any weapon training and confrontation would only get both of them killed. When were these men planning on sleeping?? Did he have to watch the elf get tortured for information all night?

But the elf barely reacted, only glaring again. Then, he huffed, and then he laughed as if honestly amused.

“HA! You’re amusing. I’ve been tortured by orcs who just wanted to make me squirm for fun. You really think I will betray my king by telling you anything?” his gaze was drilling into their minds and Estel could see that they wondered if he knew what they thought.

“HA yourself” grinned the Leader. The elf had told him what he wanted and he felt smart figuring it out, too. Estel could see that the elf had intended for this to happen.

“So you have a king. Fine, I’ll assume you work for him then. What’s his name? So I know where to address my letter to.” He pointed at the paper one of his men was holding, already some writing on it with the top part missing. The elf sighed, seemingly defeated and closed his eyes as if to gather his bearings again before he answered. He even gave the blade with his blood on it a concerned glance.

“His name is Thranduil Oropherion, king of the Woodland Realm.” The leader grinned and waved to his man to write it down. Then he pointed the blade again.

“And yours? So he believes us.” Again, seemingly defeated, the elf took a deep breath.

“Tithen las.”

At this, Estel frowned. Little leaf? That seemed like an odd choice of words as a name. But the leader just nodded, grinning, and finally got up.

“See, that wasn’t so hard. Now we can sleep for a few hours and tomorrow your dear old king gets the ransom notice. We’ll have to move tho, bet that brat has alerted the other elves by now. So don’t sleep too long, you keep watch!” he pointed to the scribe and the guy just nodded and sat himself with his back to a tree, watching, while the others began to lie down near the fire.

Damn, a guard! He should have thought of this. His heartbeat increased even further as he saw the guard clearly not falling asleep as well.

A few minutes passed and again, there was silence except for a few of the bandits snoring and the fire slowly lowering in intensity. When all of them were asleep, the elf finally gazed over to Estel, looking him directly in the eyes, lifting an eyebrow.

“Go!” he mouthed.

Estel shook his head.

The elf glared. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back his head against the tree, whispering something Estel couldn’t hear.

Slowly and quietly, the boy moved around the bush he was sitting in and snuck up behind the elf. When he was close enough, he heard him whisper.

“Why are you not in Imladris? Do I have to scold my horse for disobeying me? Were my instructions not clear?” he asked, shaking his head. Estel pouted.

“I asked it to stop and turn around so no, it’s not her fault. You helped me, now I help you!” he demanded and saw the elf close his eyes in concentration. He sighed, then glanced over to the guard.

“Okay, fine. Let’s get out of here. Do you have a knife? Something to cut the ropes?” he asked and Estel felt himself blush, hoping in the darkness it wasn’t as noticeable.

Of course he hadn’t.

“Can’t you do the trick you did last time?” he asked. The elf shook his head.

“That was one rope and I pre-cut it so the tree could help me at the right time.” The elf explained. Estel nodded, looking down at his feet in shame. He should have figured it wasn’t some obscure magic trick, he was out of the age where he believed in those, right?

“Alright, I have one hidden in my boot. Let me distract the guard and you get it as quick as possible, okay?” he suggested. Estel nodded, thrilled that he was actually able to help without much risk.

How was he going to distract the guard though? He was looking directly in the direction of the captured elf, Estel hidden behind the thick tree he was bound to.

A rustle a few bushes down drew his attention. The guard frowned, got up and went to investigate. Another rustle further away made him disappear into the forest.

“Now!” the elf whispered and Estel sprang forward as quietly and quickly as he could, kneeling at the other’s boots. He opened the leather straps holding it in place and indeed, there was a little throwing knife inside. Without another word he went to the ropes and cut open the ones wrapped around the elves chest.

“Try not to hurt the tree. She’s been worried for a while.” The elf warned quietly and Estel nodded, carefully only cutting the rope. It took longer than he wanted it to, the very small knife only working through the rope at a slow pace.

Two more to go…, he thought.

“Hey!” a voice sounded from the edge of the clearing. The elf stiffened. He had heard the guard approach but didn’t want to make Estel worry by warning him.

“Just keep going. It’s alright.” He assured the boy. But Estel felt his hands shaking even more now and this only increased when the other bandits woke too, diving for their weapons.

“The brat came back! He probably brought more elves, you search the forest, you get them!” the leader yelled.

No, no! He wasn’t done yet!

With a jolt, the elf suddenly yanked on the rope that was already half cut and it did snap. Then he twisted his wrist in his direction and Estel obediently gave him the knife, which he took to cut the last bit of rope around his wrist - not without cutting himself in his haste. He did not wince at the pain though, clearly having other priorities - like getting out of that clearing.

“Run!” he yelled and Estel’s legs acted on autopilot, scrambling away from the attacking men and in the direction where he had left the horse.

Chapter Text

With no weapons and several small wounds, the elf was greatly outmatched this time. He ran after his little charge and they had almost reached the horse when the men caught up to them.

“GO!” the elf yelled, dodging blow after blow from two of the men. But again, the same problem arose -Estel couldn’t get on the horse. And Bethron was getting nervous, treading from one hoof to the other, contemplating to run from the sharp blades pointed her way and arrows flying past. But she patiently waited for his master’s orders.

“I-I cant…” Estel breathed, furiously pulling his wrist from one of the men, who had tried to grab him.

“Forget it!” the elf yelled at the men and Estel felt strong arms around him and just a second later, he was on the back of that horse and they were riding in the only direction the hunters had not yet blockaded. It all happened too fast for him to register and he would later wonder how it was done.

The elf had wrapped his arms around him tightly. Estel just heard his heavy breathing and when he tried to look back he saw the certainly angry hunters in the back, one of them seemed to have a glinting ivory knife in their shoulder. Maybe his mind had been too slow to keep up with what was happening but he certainly felt as if he was flying when he realized that they indeed did escape.

“How-“ he wanted to know.

“I had to improvise a little. The important thing is that we made it.” Came the voice of the elf from behind, for some reason he seemed to speak through his teeth as if biting them together tightly during the ride. Maybe he was still tense. Or his wrist wound hurt. Estel could see the blood seeping out when he looked down on the elf’s grip, his knuckles were white from the strain.

Soon, when they were out of the denser forest and back on the path that Estel had somehow lost, the horse transitioned to a slower pace and it was much quieter around them. Estel felt the many questions he had collected in his head bubble up, now that the adrenalin inside him subsided a little.

“So, who are you? How did you know my name? Are you really from Greenwood? Did someone send you to get me?” the elf’s grasp around him had loosened a little and he leaned back now, enabling Estel to turn around and look at his face. He seemed pale, but that didn’t have to be unusual for him, his brothers were also a lot paler than most humans. There was a smile on his lips now though and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Nobody send me. The trees whispered of somebody in need so I altered my path to take a look. Then I heard you screaming in Sindarin. After that it was pretty clear to me who you had to be. Your brothers speak of you often.” The trees, of course. So he was indeed a wood elf. Estel was more excited than he probably should be about this and already prepared more questions in his head. The elf lifted a blond eyebrow.

“How you ended up in the forest all by yourself however is a mystery to me. And why you came back without getting help first!” Suddenly, Estel had to look away. He felt his cheeks heating up. All of his goals from last night seemed so silly and far away now.

“I wanted to visit the blooming glades with the waterfall. It’s the only good place to pick bluebells this time of year.” He whispered and suddenly his companion was laughing merrily, the sound bouncing off the increasing stone walls around them like bell chimes.

“I see. Yes I remember the glades, they are indeed worth a visit.” He did not chide him for sneaking out or how irresponsible it was to have done so. He just smiled and added. “But if you want to visit them we can do so together later, with your brothers also, if you want.” It was just a suggestion, nothing more and Estel nodded eagerly.

“Yes, I’d love to!”

“Estel!! Estel!?” a voice interrupted them. It sounded worried and he immediately recognized it as Elladan’s. They were almost at Imladris’ borders and Legolas put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly before spurring the horse to go on a little quicker.

It was almost daybreak now, the sun teasingly shooting its rays over the top of the mountains and the sky becoming more and more visible. So maybe his brothers had discovered his room empty in the morning and were now searching.

His conscience was running wild with guilt already.

They made it to the courtyard and the sound of hooves had apparently drawn several others closer to the open space. There was a group of elves Estel didn’t know, dressed similar to his companion in all green and brown. All of them stood by horses while Elrond and Glorfindel were with them, obviously discussing something heatedly.

All of them turned when the two unlikely companions rode into view. At the same second, the twins rushed down the stairs, also seeing them approach and their faces lit up with joy and bewilderment at the same time.

“ESTEL!” they exclaimed and ran forward. “You found him! Where was he??” while his sons ran to the approaching horse, Elrond just stared, his gaze shifting between the two of them.

“Hir-nin!” “Legolas!” “Ernil-nin!” exclaimed several others, mainly the ones clad in green. Estel whirled around, pointedly ignoring his brother’s chiding about where he had been and why he was just coming into Imladris instead of being in bed. He also waved their hands away who wanted to get him off the horse. Not yet, he had to wrap his head around this first.

“Legolas?? You’re Legolas?” he asked and Legolas grinned at him.

“I am, yes.” He confessed and the twins rolled their eyes but also smiled. Inside, Estel wanted to hit his past self even more for thinking his new found ally was someone to hate because he was friends with his brothers.

“Where were you, Ernil-nin? We were concerned when we arrived without you being here. We thought you had only spurred on ahead to be the first.” The front man asked. He seemed exasperated and had been discussing with Glorfindel, who seemed rather amused at the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Wait, Prince? You’re a prince??” Estel asked, even more shocked than before. When Legolas had told the humans he was a guard he had guessed that that was a lie, sure. But that he was the prince of all people, Thranduil’s son, that had never been on his list of things to guess. No wonder he was lying. Those humans would have done far worse had they known how highly appraised their captive was. That had been the same for him, just that Estel had given them far too much information willingly in the naïve believe that they were just curious.

Still busy with his own dilemma, he didn’t notice the conversation between his brothers and Legolas behind him.

“Come on get down from there, Estel needs to be looked at.” And Elladan pulled on Legolas wrist mockingly, instilling first a laugh from the prince, then a sudden wince and the next second, when Elrohir had started to lift Estel by the hips to get off the horse, Legolas was going limp, eyes rolling back into his head.

And slipping right off the horse.

“Legolas!” the twins gasped, making the other adults turn to them in time to see what happened. Several of them gasped in shock, some sprinted in their direction already but would have been too late. Just out of sheer luck and thanks to his ability to react quickly, Elladan was able to catch Legolas from falling to the floor painfully. He kneeled on the courtyard floor with his hands and eyes hovering, trying to find the source of his friend collapsing to suddenly..

“Ada!” he cried out, almost choking, his hand feeling and then seeing something that shouldn’t be there. “He’s bleeding!” the red liquid on his robe and hand made the twin’s breathing accelerate. No no no…not again, not on this cursed day…

“What?” Estel cried out.

“Get Estel out of here!” Elrond’s voice interrupted all the yelling that occurred from the worried and outraged wood elves after this statement. But no, no! He wanted to know what was going on! Why was Legolas bleeding??

“No! He’s my friend, I want to stay with him! He saved me!”

Elrond had kneeled beside Legolas, now looking up at those curious words. He still had no idea why his foster son had been out of Imladris and what happened this night at all. Estel seemed to have burn marks on his wrists and several small wounds too… Friend he called him…he had to wonder what the prince did again to gain another’s affection so quickly. And especially what Estel did to gain Legolas’ trust as well, judging by the way they had arrived.

His healer side took over while the twins had already tried to find the bleeding and press parts of their robes to it to stop it.

“Alright, you can come. But stay back and let me and your brothers work, understood?”

Estel nodded, eager to not be carried away like a little child who should be shielded. Elrond nodded and got back to business immediately.

“Glorfindel, get our guests to their quarters and then come to the healing hall to help. Elladan, you carry Legolas and Elrohir, you hurry and prepare a bed” All addressed elves nodded and sprung to action, Elrohir hurrying off and Glorfindel turning to the other wood elves, who seemed short before sprinting to their prince’s side as well.

“Excuse me, but I’m not leaving the prince’s side. I demand to know what happened!” one of them said and Glorfindel sighed.

“I know, I understand, but it’s important that you let Lord Elrond work first, so he can be healed before we start this discussion. You will be shown to your rooms and can refresh before you come to the healing halls, alright?”

But Estel barely heard the rest of the argument, because Elladan had lifted up Legolas now, his robe was soaked with blood where Legolas’ back was, as was the courtyard, and he hurried down the corridor with Elrond opening doors and feeling the prince’s pulse along the way.

When was he injured? Why did he not ask for them to stop and tend to this wound?? Estel’s thoughts were running wild and he wondered if this was the ‘improvising’ he had briefly talked about before Estel had bombarded him with questions.

They reached the healing halls and a bed was ready, prepared by Elrohir, who was nervously flying around the room to prepare for the cleaning of the wounds and the sanitation of the bandages.

“Estel, help me clean these bandages, will you?” he asked while Lord Elrond and Elladan were by the bed. It was clear to Estel that his brother was trying to prevent him from seeing the actual -probably gruesome- wound, but he wanted to help, so he complied with the request, dragging the bandages through the boiling water and laying them on a clean tablet to be carried over to the bed.

At one point he stopped for a second, seeing how his brother was shaking miserably before grabbing the counter and breathing deeply. Concerned and confused he searched for Elrohir’s gaze but the elder carefully avoided it and just continued his work.

When the first batch was done, he was able to get a glance of what was happening on the bed.

Legolas was on his stomach, his back exposed with the tunic cut away for better access. Apparently, the swing of a sword had hit his back almost diagonally, leaving a rather deep gash.

“Was his spine hit?” he heard Elrohir whisper with deep worry in his tone.

“I don’t think so. It would explain the fainting… But we won’t be certain until he wakes. Help me wrap this for now, it has finally stopped bleeding.”, Elrond answered and carefully took the bandages his sons were handing to him.

Estel slowly stepped closer, the quiet situation finally letting sink in what happened this day. He felt how his eyes prick and before he even knew it, Elrohir was by his side, wrapping his arms around him for comfort. Elladan glanced over sympathetically but his hands were still covered in Legolas’ blood and he would finish this first before touching his baby brother.

“Hey, hey! He’s going to be fine.” Elrohir whispered, maybe not just to ensure his little brother, but also himself. Estel knew the twins were close friends with Legolas for a long, long time. Incomprehensibly long for humans, probably. And now he was the cause for their friend to be injured this badly? For Eru’s sake he was tortured and held captive because of him!

“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, Ro!” he wailed, the sobs wracking his small body while his brother held him, still not knowing what had even happened.

“No, it is not! Whatever happened is surely not to blame on you.” He paused, looking if the other two in the room were able to pay attention. “So, what did happen?”

They were interrupted, when Glorfindel entered the healing halls, together with a male and a female elf from Greenwood, who had changed their clothing to more formal attire. The woman held a bundle of cloth in her hand, carefully positioning it next to her prince’s bed on a nightstand.

“A change of clothing for him.” She explained and glanced over their workings worriedly.

“Will he recover?” she asked.

“In time we will see what damage will last.”, Elrond just answered ominously, probably to soften a blow that may follow later, as Estel now knew.

The two woodland warriors closed their eyes for a second and the woman took a shaky breath.

“The king is going to kill us.” She confessed, drawing her fingers through her own hair nervously.

“We know he likes to wander off by himself sometimes but usually he’s just picking flowers or talking to the trees…” Her companion added for her. She nodded in agreement and since Elrond was still wrapping and cleaning, she looked to the human boy. There was no contempt in her gaze, just curiosity and concern.

“Tell me please, human child, what has happened?” she implored. Estel couldn’t even bring himself to correct her on his name so he just nodded. He was going to say this at some point anyway, he might as well do it now. He just wished he didn’t have red eyes from crying just a few seconds ago. Or this pressure in his throat or the tiredness entering his bones.

“So, last night before bed….” And he told them all what had transpired, about his escape (his brothers and father were not pleased) his capture, Legolas rescue and his return to the glade right after.

“Why did you not come for Imladris first, we could have easily freed him! I bet that was Legolas’ plan all along. He knew he had men in the area and that we were waiting for him!” Elrohir exclaimed, one hand on his little brother’s shoulder. Honestly, in hindsight, Estel’s plan did seem stupid, but in the moment…

“I didn’t want him to suffer because of me.” He confessed. His guilty glance to Legolas in that bed however made him wipe at his tears again. “Looks like I failed at that as well.”

“So what happened when you went back? What had transpired?”, asked the female Greenwood warrior. He later learned her name was Alaf.

“They um…wanted information from him. I watched from the bushes.” He dropped his gaze, not knowing if he should tell them this or if he was even able to recollect it verbally. There was a heavy silence in the room and he sniffed, trying not to let further tears escape.

“He told them what they wanted to know for the ransom letter, lied about who he was though. He said he was a guard and his name was ‘Tithen-Las’?” he looked around the room with a questioning gaze.

All elves present suddenly turned even paler than they had been before. He saw Glorfindel ball his fists while the twins clenched their jaws. The Greenwood Woman closed her eyes for a few seconds as if to collect herself while her partner looked ready for murder.

“That is his father’s nickname for him. Was that letter sent?” the elleth asked, obviously trying to keep calm. Estel took that in for a moment. Of course, that made more sense, name wise then. But he shook his head slowly in response.

“I don’t think so…we escaped before they could. They said to first get rest before sending it in the morning. So I had to do something, they said they would move camp in the morning, too so we would have lost them!” he justified his actions and his brothers exchanged glances. They would have been able to catch up to the humans regardless of where they went, but Estel had not yet been taught the art of tracking that well, so they just nodded for him to continue. He did, until he finally arrived at the point where they were fleeing on the horse. He even told them how he had no idea where Legolas was hurt and that he suspected it was in the second he got them both onto the horse.

“I don’t know why he didn’t say anything!” he whined finally and there was a chuckle from Elrond by the bed.

“That would be typical. The Princeling has the strange habit of not telling of his injuries until he faints or someone else discovers them, so this is not the first time he has arrived here injured.” He checked the bandages for a final time and then turned to Estel. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he was roughly on Estel’s eyelevel and ushered the child towards him. Estel hesitated but finally went. He didn’t know if he feared a punishment, but his foster father’s eyes showed nothing but warmth and kindness.

“I am so sorry that you had to go through that, my child.”, he whispered and drew him into a hug, which he gladly accepted. Being buried in his father’s arms like this, he did not see the rage in the eyes of the Greenwood warriors, or the anger flickering over his brother’s faces. Elrond shielded him from this as well, as he himself was just as mad.

How dare these men. How dare they hold Estel captive, and then Legolas as well. How dare they torture the prince for information, or harm him at all, same for Estel.

“Those bastards will pay.” Alaf whispered angrily in Silvan, so fast that Estel did not hear her well. He had already turned to walk out when the other warrior stopped him.

“Calm yourself. When the captain wakes we need to be present. I know you want to go after them but we will do it in due time.”, his companion assured him. Elrohir stood from the other side of the bed, his fists clenched too and he nodded at the Greenwood warriors.

“We will come with you when that time comes. They will not be able to escape.”

“It Is nice to know you already plan my own revenge”, a voice from the bed interrupted them. They all whirled around in the direction. Legolas’ blue eyes were open and he smiled at them, though it did seem painful as his grimace indicated.

“My prince!” “Legolas!” it rang around the room and a great tension seemed to be lifted from the air.

Elrond just watched the scene with a somber expression, not satisfied until he knew everything but also not wanting to interrupt the scene just yet.

“Hello to you all. This is indeed a full room for a simple injury.” Legolas greeted. Then he drew in his arms and started to lift himself up. Just a second later, Elladan was there, pressing him down gently, though no real force was needed.

“Oh no, you don’t. Do you know how much blood you have lost??” he chided. Legolas winced, then he chuckled. Already so cheerful again even in this situation, even if it sounded sarcastic.

“If I look at you I can judge that pretty well.” The prince quipped and his gaze up and down Elladan’s robes to his hands. The twin looked down himself and froze, staring, all amusement leaving at the sight of Legolas’ blood on himself. Then his knees promptly gave in and it was good that his twin was there, having sprinted up from Estel’s side, and put a chair right where Elladan dropped. Not reacting to the wondrous appearance of a chair at all (like always spookily in tune with his twin), Elladan sank into himself and Estel felt his previous worry for his brothers spike. What was up with them? He had never seen either like this at all and it scared him. Elrohir was grabbing the back of the chair like his own life depended on its presence.

Legolas expression had sobered and he obediently sank down onto the bed again, scrunching himself into the pillow. His blond hair, previously also caked with blood but now cleaned and still slightly wet, hid his expression for a few seconds. It was as if in these moments they were raw, exposed even, a deep sadness shining through that was normally carefully buried inside. Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged knowing glances, the Lord soon closing his lids and trying to shield his own expression.

“I am sorry, gwador-nin. I did not mean to put another mark on this day.” Legolas whispered, almost too quiet for them all to hear. But Elladan still absently stared at his bloody hands until Glorfindel moved and kneeled before him, his own pale hands over his, covering the sight. He broke the spell and drew Elladan’s as well as Elrohir’s gaze towards him. They looked at each other for a moment and then Glorfindel smiled, warm and sad at the same time.

“Come on, you two. Let’s get you changed and to your rooms for now.” He said quietly. The twins hesitated.

“We don’t want to be alone.” Elrohir finally whispered, Elladan closed his eyes and nodded in agreement.

“I will stay.” Glorfindel promised, taking Elladan’s hand again and guiding them outside.

The door closed behind them heavily and Estel glanced around to the other faces still present, waiting for an explanation.

“What’s wrong with them?” he finally asked, almost whispering because he sensed the tense atmosphere of the room. Nobody made eye contact. Estel’s thoughts were racing with worry for his brothers, and he stepped closer to Elrond. But the Lord seemed just as raw, staring into space until he pulled himself together again, returning his foster son’s gaze as if just remembering he was there at all.

“Estel. I apologize but today is a difficult day for all of us. I will explain it to you some day, when the pain is not as poignant.” He said, not really explaining at all, and Estel felt like he was about to burst. He just went through all of this…to be treated like a child yet again! But he was distracted when Elrond turned to the prince on the bed, expression still grave.

“Now you know I have to ask you this, Legolas, can you move and feel your toes?” he asked. Legolas closed his eyes for a second, apparently still bracing himself from the scene that had just went down. But after that short pause, he released them all from their tension and nodded.

“Yes, I can. Look at my majestic wiggling.” And he did indeed wiggle his toes that were slightly poking out from under the bedsheet covering his legs. The cut on his cheek and wound on his wrist were still there, not yet bound, and Estel watched Elrond do just that, with a much more relieved expression on his face. The greenwood warriors excused themselves after Legolas exchanged a few words In Silvan with them.

Estel was alone in the wide healing hall now, with Legolas and his father. Warm morning light filtered through the windows, making the blood and fright from the previous night seem like a distant nightmare. After he was bandaged all over, Legolas finally looked at Estel again, his gaze warm.

“How are you faring?” he asked.

At this, Estel was stumped. First, this elf freed him, sacrificed himself for him and after he was dumb enough to come back, helped him escape again, after spilling his own blood all over Elrond’s courtyard.

And he asked him how he was faring?

He opened and closed his mouth, took the time to think about what to say. Luckily, elves were good listeners. They had patience to spare in amounts no man ever had.

“I...think I’m alright. Considering.” He finally decided and Legolas smiled.

“I am glad. Still, I regret that you had to endure yesterday’s events.” He said and Estel could only nod. He still had a lot of questions, having them only double with how his brothers behaved just now. He looked up at his father and Elrond read his expression, turning to Legolas. A hand brushed over the top of his blond head with gentle movements.

“Sleep now, Legolas. I have already given you a calming tea mixture.”

“I can taste it, thanks.” Legolas said, responding to the gesture first with a smile, then with a face that almost resembled Estel himself when he sulked. Elrond had a short laugh, clearly amused even though the sadness still lingered.

“It may not be the time of day, but I think Estel might be exhausted too, mh?” he turned to his son.

As if on cue, Estel felt his own exhaustion catch up to him. He yawned, nodded, and soon he was escorted outside and to his room to rest.

“Will you stay?” he asked, maybe a little ashamed to have to do so. He was already eight, he shouldn’t have to ask his father to stay with him while he slept. But Elrond didn’t even hesitate to answer.

“Of course.” And he sat in a chair by his bedside, smiling fondly while his foster son drifted into dream land.

Chapter Text

Elrond was woken from his light sleep in the early evening by one of his guards. She had touched his shoulder gently and he jumped. Having napped in his son’s room, he looked up now, confused. It was dark out, was the first thing he noted. Then the indecisive look on his subordinate’s face.

“What is the matter?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake Estel.

“There are humans near our border, Sir. I believe they might have followed Sir Legolas’ horse.” She said. Elrond blinked slowly.

“Do you mean to tell me that the humans that held Estel captive and tortured Legolas for information have the audacity to walk right up to my borders?” his tone cut through the air and it was clear that he was not at all pleased. He was on his feet in the next second, hurrying down the corridor and the guard rushed after him.

The door fell shut with a thud and Estel woke with a jolt. He looked around, confused, and noticed that his Ada was gone. Where could he have gone?

His hands absently rubbed at the rope burns around his wrists and he slowly got up. Somehow, he was wide awake now. Something wasn’t right, the back of his head told him. Something was happening outside.

As quietly as his little human feet let him, he put over a light cloak and snuck out of his room. Just outside, he had to hurry to hide around a corner, because he saw his brothers coming down the hall, and strangely enough they were dressed in full armor, striding purposefully. Estel had never seen them like this, their faces were usually soft and open in his presence, laughter and fun on their lips. But now, their faces were set in stone, grim lines on their forehead and fists balled around the swords at their hips.

“Adar.” Elrohir said. He stopped, when Elrond also appeared around another corner. He also had armor on and looked intimidating as well as inspiring somehow. The moonlight was glinting on the silver that finely encased his chest.

“You do not have to come.” Elrond said. The twins did not hesitate to shake their heads.

“We are. They will not get away with this.”

“We are not killing them, Elladan.” Elrond warned. Estel blinked. He wondered why his Ada felt the need to specify this and who they were even talking about.

“I know. But they can have a good scare, right?” Elladan said. Estel frowned. Who were they talking about?

“Besides, Legolas probably wants his knives back anyway. If we can get those, he’ll stop to fret about it.” There was that smile Estel was used to, but it was rather cold somehow.

Wait…those humans had Legolas’ knives! Were they here??? Were his brothers and father going to go and find them? Both options seemed terrible.

Estel heard them decide on a meeting time at the gate and there was still enough time to change into something, so he did this, at least getting boots and something for the cold. He snuck around corners, avoiding guards as best he could and was almost to the exit to the courtyard, when his gaze wandered to the right, down the hall…

Where the healing wards were.

And he made a decision.

~~

In the dark of the forest, the humans were arguing.

“The trail leads this way.”

“No I think it’s this.”

“Boss, I found more blood, that means it’s definitely this track of prints, right?”

“Quiet!” the boss finally hollowed. He stood still, looking around in suspicion. “I think I heard something.”

“D’you think the elves know we’re here?”

“I reckon they’re asleep. Don’t the tales about this place say they’re a peaceful folk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we break in, steal a little gold and wander right off. No harm done, right? They probably have enough to go by for years to come.” Leedo – this was their boss’ name - grinned and his gaze was cloudy while he imagined all the gold he could get his hands on. The white knife in his hand was already fabulous and that guy had been a guard. He wondered what treasures must rest in this valley that they had such a hard time finding the entrance to, even with the clear horse tracks and blood leading the way.

“And what makes you think we are open to share our riches with you?” came a voice from the side. All of the humans jumped, drawing their weapons, for before them stood an elf, high and formidable, in full armor with a sword at his side. He had a circlet on his head and the moonlight from above shone off of him.

No, wait. Was he…glowing?

Some of the humans felt their hands shaking. Where had he come from so silently? Had he heard what they had said? And that armor sure did not look like something a peaceful folk would wear. Their mistrustful glances were shot to the elf’s pointy ears and eerie glow under the moon, and none of them said anything.

“Silent so soon? I had hoped to talk to you about yesterday night.” He took a step closer. The boss in their middle was shaken from his shock and stepped forward, pointing the white blade in his hand at the elf.

“No step further! You will not trick us with your sorcery, elf. Give us what we ask and we will leave you in peace.”

There was a short silence. The elf’s gaze flew to the blade in the man’s hand for only a split second, then he tilted his head, his silver eyes staring into that of the lead bandit.

“And what makes you think that it is peace that I wish for?” he asked. His Westron was fluent, almost melodic, and very polite. But his tone…with his tone of voice one could have cut steel.

“We…we were told it’s what you usually go for. Peaceful living in the woods.” One of his men said. Leedo shot him a sharp look, but the elf just smiled. It was barely a lift of the corner of his mouth though.

“Usually. Though I would not call Rivendell a wood.” He seemed slightly amused, but returned to seriousness very soon.

“But you should know, that elves are only peaceful if we can be. For we have fought battles before men have existed and slain creatures before the words for them were invented.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, long knife still raised threateningly, but he somehow felt like he did not have the upper hand, even though the elf did not have his weapon drawn and the tip of the knife was very close to the elf’s throat.

“I’m saying, that you hurt two people very dear to me. My son and the son of a friend, who might as well be a son of mine.” The elf took another step forward and the tip of the knife was under his chin now. He stood taller than any of the men did and Leedo saw as well as felt that his own hand was shaking. He held the weapon. Why did he feel like running away?

“But..” he heard himself say, but stopped. Was the blond elf his son? But the elf had said he was from Mirkwood. And this one had dark hair and silver eyes, his facial features seemed very different form the one they had held captive. Tough also beautiful, they were sharper and with a stronger jawline. But the boy…somehow he saw the boy in those silver eyes. But how? The boy was clearly a man and this was an elf. Could elves bear man-children?

“They were trespassing.” He defended himself after a thick swallow.

“You are trespassing right now. This is my land, has been for longer than any of you or your grandfathers in living memory have lived.”

“I have you at knifepoint!” Leedo protested, demonstrating his power by poking the point of the blade under the elf’s chin.

“Yes, that knife. I would like it back.” Came another voice, from the side. For the first time, the elf before him seemed phased. His grey eyes widened and he searched for the voice in the dark.

“What are you doing here? You should not be out of bed!”

“I am sorry, my lord, but I will not let you fight my battles for me.”

“I am not fighting any battle, go back to bed.”

The conversation in Sindarin was met by confusion from the humans. Most of them were looking for the source of the second voice, as it seemed strangely familiar. Just a second later, the blond elf from before dropped from a tree like it was nothing, slowly standing up to full height.

He was wearing a silver gown with very light leather armor, a bow and quiver strapped to his back. A circlet was woven into his hair and he, as well, seemed to glow in the moonlight, though it was less subtle with his bright hair also reflecting the blue shimmer from above.

“I see you have followed me here. It was a wise decision to confess to your crimes before Lord Elrond and give your stolen goods back.” He looked at the knife as if it was simply held out, not threatening his elf friend. Lord Elrond? Was the elf standing before him the Lord of the valley?? The panic in Leedo’s chest was starting to kindle like a campfire.

“Legolas! Come back here.” Another voice came from the dark behind the black haired one.

“We had this under control.” An identical voice added. Two more beings emerged on either side of the first elf. They looked remarkably like him with younger faces and rounder eyes, but their mannerism and speech were so similar that it also spooked the humans and their leader had to hold back from taking the knife away and running.

“Control? Elrond has a knife to his throat. MY knife!” the blond elf protested.

“I am perfectly fine, he would not be able to harm me.” Elrond said.

“I can see that, since you so graciously posted my warriors around here without letting me know.” The blond elf argued. All of this sounded strange and foreign to the humans, this melodic speech meaning nothing to them.

“My apologies, Hir-nin. We followed Elrond to retrieve your knives and assist from the trees.” A voice from the trees sounded and the men whirled around in search for it. There was nobody in sight.

“I am not blaming you, Alaf.” The blond elf answered, waving the voice away.

“How did you know we were here anyway?” one of the twins –they must be twins- asked.

“Estel woke me.” The blond said. Estel. That was the name of the boy, right?

“WHAT? Is he here as well??” this time the first elf did seem worried. He searched the forest for something but the blond elf calmed him with a gesture.

“Safe in a tree. She will hold him until we are finished here. Now I-”

“Shut UP!” the human suddenly yelled. All elves’ gazes went to him, knife still pointed at the elf’s throat, and he now stepped forward, tightening his grip and positioning the knife properly so he could cut the elf’s throat with only one movement to the side.

“You will give me what we asked for or pay with your life, elf!” he threatened again. Nobody moved an inch.

“NoW!” he screamed.

A lot of things happened at once. The first elf whirled his arm, drawing his sword and with the hilt simply pushed Leedo back several feet, making him fall on his back and slither further a few steps. The air left his lungs with full force and he felt the knife slip from his fingers. At the same time, arrows flew from the trees, landing in a perfect line in between the elves and humans, making most of his men jump back in surprise when they were about to attack as well. One of them kneeled down to help Leedo up and in his haze he saw the blond elf, holding one of the white knives again.

In the short dizziness, Leedo saw the elf stride over with sure steps, kneel down and unfasten the second knife from his belt, ignoring the man kneeling beside him, even though he also held a sword. This man did not react except for shaking and staring, not daring to move his hand against the elf again.

Leedo however, finally managed to react when the elf was getting up, grabbing the elf’s wrist. The blond elf haltered, but his blue eyes bore into his like the daggers he was holding.

“Let go.” The elf said. There was a definite threat in his voice.

“Legolas!” the twins said, worry in their tone. Was that the elf’s real name? It did not matter. He had him now. His own knife was drawn, he got up from the ground and he whirled it around to attack, viciously cutting at the elf. If he remembered correctly, this elf was hurt. He had cut into his back personally, there was no way he could move any faster than him now –

But he was mistaken.

In only a split second, the knife was knocked from his hand and the elf whirled around. He now had both his daggers back, holding them like extensions of his arm. In the next second, Leedo’s own hand was pinned to the ground with one of the white knives brutally stabbed through it to secure it.

He screamed in pain, breathing heavily. This had all happened so fast! The second knife in his other hand appeared just a fraction of a second later, and the man beside Leedo scrambled back, horror in his eyes at the fast movements and suddenly brutal comeback.

Legolas got up slowly. He felt that his back wound was straining, but he did not care. This human had gone far enough, first threatening Estel and now also Elrond. Nobody threatened his family and got away with it.

“Let this be a lesson.” He growled, speaking in his dated Westron to the humans, who still had their weapons drawn but dared not move, for they had seen the speed and accuracy in which the elf could attack and had seen the arrows come from the trees around them. They finally realized that they may not have the upper hand.

“You are not to step foot on Lord Elrond’s soil ever again and you shall not sully his land with your presence until death. Banished you may also be from Greenwood the Great, known to you as Mirkwood, for surely only death will wait for you there and anywhere you can see from the forest.”

It took a few seconds, but Leedo finally managed to get his voice back. It was raspy from pain and he was trying hard to concentrate and not wince from the pain in both his hands. Being pinned to the ground like a fly was certainly not helping his dignity and he hated it.

“Who are you to decide such a thing? You’re just a lowly guard.” He spat, his glare at the being as deadly as he could manage through the pain. Before he even said it, he knew that he was wrong. Not only the circlet, but the elf’s whole demeanor, now, in this setting, were far from when they had first met him. There was no smile on his face when he answered, only a disdainful snide to his features.

“I am Legolas Thranduilion, sole Prince and heir to the throne of Eryn Galen. You will heed my orders or die trying to defy them.” His voice was laced with ice and his blue eyes sparkled like the moon. Without a care, he tore the knives back out of Leedo’s hands.

“I am told you are exiled from your village, Leedo of Hoarriver. If you and your men continue down this path of darkness, I doubt any elf you will come across may look at you kindly. Or human.” He warned and turned his back to them. There was blood clearly seeping out of his wound, but it did not show in his step. He got back to the other elves, where the twins both fret over him, insisting to get him to the healing halls, but Legolas refused. This was not solved yet.

How…how did the elf know his name? And where he was from? He had never told anyone and his men were from around the same area. A shudder came down his spine. Soon, his thoughts were interrupted by the first elf again.

“Heed his warnings, men. The king of Mirkwood is not very fond of people who have harmed his son, and this puts it lightly. I would hurry to get out of here before he gets word of your wrong doings.” Lord Elrond said. Slowly, Leedo got up. He held his hands like a wounded animal, but still, refused to tug in his tail and retreat.

“You’re outnumbered. My men can easily take you down in a fair fight.” He boasted. His men looked at him like he had lost his mind. The blond elf suddenly snorted, a bell of laughter filling the air. It was not filled with humor.

“Fair? You wish to be shown fairness where you have demonstrated none in return?” he mocked. Then he lifted his hand and with the command, a dozen warriors dropped from the trees around them, bows still in hand and arrows at the ready, pointed at them. They were dressed like the blond elf had been yesterday, but none of them shared in his height or hair color.

Behind the dark haired warriors from before, there appeared a few more. One had golden hair, he was not dressed in armor but rather leisurely leaned against a tree, arms crossed, while other elves with dark hair and armor sprouted behind him.

Slowly, the humans backed away. One of his men who had held the blond elf’s bow, slowly lay it down on the ground together with the quiver, as if dropping a peace offering.

Leedo’s hands were still bleeding and something inside him told him to run, the panic fire having roared to a forest consuming flame inside him. He clenched his jaw and his eyes searched for a way out of this that was not undignified running.

He found none.

Staring into all of these faces, shimmering under the moonlight like magic, he finally gave in.

“Retreat! Fall back!” he ordered and his men scrambled like they had been waiting for an incentive to do so.

And they were out of the valley before the moon reached its peak.

~~

As soon as they were out of sight, Legolas’ laugh filled the air, making Estel jump a little in his hiding place. He had been tenser than he had expected and he saw that his brothers and father had been as well, their shoulders now relaxing. Legolas however was smiling, despite the wound on his back bleeding and probably stinging.

“Did you see his face? Priceless.” He grinned. His outward coldness had melted right off of him.

“Wow, Legolas, what a true depiction of your father.” Elrohir grinned. Elrond only nodded, smiling. Oh! So Legolas’ coldness had found inspiration in his father…that made sense. He wondered if Thranduil was truly like this in person.

“Thranduil would have smirked insufferably. A shame he could not be here to witness it.”, Elrond said. Legolas sobered a little.

“Maybe that is for the best.” He admitted, looking after the men.

“Ai, these men would not be alive to see another day.” Elladan mumbled loud enough for Estel to hear and the boy’s eyes widened.

“Thranduil loves his son to death, if he finds out what these men did, they will be hunted for life.” Elrohir grinned, explaining it to Estel in the tree while Legolas only rolled his eyes at the statement, he did not deny it though. Oh, so that’s why they had found banishment enough of a punishment. They assumed Thranduil would order worse anyway. Estel frowned while Legolas came over to him, gently telling the tree to put him down while Elladan took him down by the shoulders.

As they all finally turned to return to Imladris, Legolas fingered the circlet from his head, shrugging out of his weapon holster carefully and handing it back to the Imladris guard he had borrowed it from and the circlet to one of his own warriors, his gaze on it with slight contempt.

“Ugh, I hate these things. I honestly don’t know how adar can do it all day.” He shuddered at the thought and grinned at Estel. “You look very dignified with your little crown though!”

Estel blushed, fingering the circlet in his hair. He had no idea why he grabbed it in the first place. Maybe he had thought he could step up to the humans as well, make the impression of Elrond’s proper son. Watching had been weird, but the nervousness inside him had not allowed him to step up and make a stand. At least Legolas had been able to.

“I’m no prince though.” Estel mumbled into himself, not seeing the knowing gaze his brothers exchanged and the chiding one his father shot them. Legolas didn’t notice them either and laughed.

“Maybe not, but you might as well be, being Elrond’s son.” He said, winking.

“I’m not a king.” Elrond reminded Legolas, but the wood elf just shrugged. He did not point out that by blood, Elrond might as well be, though his knowing smile was telling.

“Race you to the courtyard!” he suddenly exclaimed. The twins gasped, but raced after him instantly.

“Legolas! You’re still not healed yet! Stop it!” Elrond screamed after them, but they were already out of sight. The lord closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He reminded himself to look at the prince’s wounds as soon as they got back. Some of the elves around him snickered while they walked back to Imladris together.

“I swear to you, Estel. If you become as reckless as them when you’re older, I will die of worry someday after all.” The lord smiled and stroked his fingers through Estel’s hair.

The boy swatted him away and only grinned mischievously as Elrond picked up his pace to catch up with the boys.

Chapter Text

The sun shone upon them in the garden when Estel sat in the grass with Legolas. He had become fast friends with the wood-elf while the other was healing, asking questions and being asked about his training in return.

“Oh dear, I remember Erestor’s lessons! I did always prefer Arwen teaching me.” Legolas rolled in the grass, careful to avoid his still healing back and grinned at Estel’s complains about his teacher.

“So you’ve met Ro and Da’s sister?” he supposed she was his sister too, but since he’d never actually met her, it was weird to say so. Legolas just nodded.

“Oh yes, I used to come here often during my childhood, when our woods and the land were less dangerous to travel. Arwen and I are good friends. She is with her grandparents for quite a long time now…” he mused, stroking the grass beneath him and enjoying how soft it was. “She must miss her mother too, especially these days.” He mumbled.

This was the final stroke, Estel had enough.

“Okay, I’m sorry but you need to tell me what’s so special about the last days! My brothers are behaving strangely and I worry! Father is withdrawn and all of them barely talk…it’s one of the reasons I ran away in the first place! It is driving me nuts and they won’t speak of it.” He crossed his arms, clear worry but also anger about this situation written on his so young face.

Legolas glanced at him for a moment, not certain if he should stay humorous or switch to the serious topic the young boy was poking at with a far too large stick. Finally, he decided on the latter.

“Oh sweet Estel. I would say that you should ask them this question but I fear it is still too fresh for them. It may have been slowly breaching on 500 years but the anniversary of such events always makes one feel it especially deeply.” He straightened himself to an upward position and crossed his legs. It sounded like he spoke from experience. Estel leaned forward, curious to finally know, even though he sensed it would not be a bright story.

“You know of Celebrian, of course? Elrond’s wife, Celeborn and Galadriel’s daughter and mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen?” Estel nodded. Of course he had heard of her and he knew how the brothers missed her dearly. Her room was off limits and he had once wandered into it unsupervised as a child, wondering about it not having collected dust in all these years and his young hands grabbing far too many things. He would never forget Elrond’s face when he found him, both full of sorrow and gladness at the same time.

“Well, it happens to be the anniversary of her being found after the orc attack. She had been abducted and held in a cave, only for Elladan and Elrohir to finally find them after several months of search. Many had given up to find her alive at all but they had prevailed. The state they found her in however…” he paused, swallowing, wondering how much he should even tell this small child. He decided to skim over the most gruesome details. He had already seen too much, the last days, most of it thanks to him.

“It devastated them, that day. I was not here on the day itself but I came to aid them when I heard the news of what happened. Celebrian was never the same and she soon departed for the havens.” He pressed his lips together and looked at the earth beneath them.

“My bloody appearance here probably brought back way too many memories and I still feel sorry about it.” He admitted.

Estel was silent for a few moments, taking all this in. It made sense now, but he did not feel better, even though his curiosity was satisfied. He thought about what to say, when three elves interrupted them, the twins and Elrond, Elrohir holding a tablet with food that had probably been intended for Legolas, originally.

“Legolas! We told you to stay in bed!” Elladan exclaimed from some distance away, nearing them now.

“And you have corrupted our sweet little Estel to join in your jests?” Elrohir chided, but let himself fall to the ground next to the prince gracefully, placing the tablet in front of him. Estel rolled his eyes dramatically at his brother’s babying and Legolas laughed, rolling himself to the side but not so far that the ground actually touched his wound. He was glad for the light-hearted distraction and pretended the previous topic had not been breached but they had stayed on the one before that. So a grape was taken from the tablet and he tossed it into his mouth gracefully.

“I was just telling Estel about our realm. You seem to have neglected his education in that aspect. As well as failing to tell him that I can easily best you two with a bow.” A simultaneous gasp from the twins was drowned out by a laughter from the other end of the garden, where Glorfindel passed under the shadows of a corridor.

“That’s true!” he commented before disappearing around a corner. Both twins turned red in anger and shame, making Estel and Legolas almost roll with laughter. Even Elrond had to restrain himself from giving out more than a snicker. He distantly remembered Thranduil’s comment on his son’s bow skills when the boy had not even held a weapon before and to be honest, he didn’t know if he should be angry or impressed about the king’s foresight in this aspect.

The twins tried to get the attention back from this topic and Elrohir coughed to get a word into their laughter.

“We have not neglected his education, but simply tried to shield him.” He defended and Legolas quickly sobered. His face told a journey of thoughts -from being offended to seeing their intent- to the twins but nothing to Estel as he finally sighed.

“You’re right. It is nothing for a child to have to think about often.” He admits.

“What, why?” Estel asked. He knew that there was not just good in the world, of course. The encounter with the bandits had not been his first awakening. After all, his birth father had been brutally killed by orcs. Even if he did not remember, he sometimes had nightmares about it still. And he just found out about what happened to Celebrian in more detail! That was about as gruesome as it got…right?

Legolas smiled ruefully. One could clearly see how this topic pained him and the twins shared a glance with each other and their father. Thranduil was the only elven ruler without a ring to protect his realm. And he was right next to Dol Ghudur…

“Our great forest is plagued by a terrible illness and nowadays the ground for battles between us and evil creatures almost every single day. It’s why I have not visited …as often.” He glanced toward the twins and they returned his gaze, already having known this. They were well informed about Legolas’ reasons and had often offered their help in this fight, too. Legolas or his father had never accepted. Not working as well with the trees and not knowing every centimeter of the forest would kill them, Legolas had often said.

At these news, Estel slowly glanced down at the grass, picking strands from it and tearing some form the ground while apparently thinking. It was a lot to take in, the story from a few minutes ago also still lingering.

“That means you’re fighting a lot? Despite being a prince?” he asked, looking up to Legolas but his head still down. Said prince nodded.

“Yes. A lot.” He admitted. He tried not to think of the last friend he lost in his arms, leaving for the halls while still in his grasp.

“Then why didn’t you just kill the men when they attacked us? I know killing is wrong but it would have been self-defense! Why didn’t you fight back?!” why did you just let yourself get taken like that? , his eyes said. The boy’s voice was raised and he now fully looked at Legolas again. “You fought back when they came here, why not then?”

The elves surrounding him were stunned, even taken aback, by this outburst. Finally, Legolas answered into the tense silence. His tone was serious and his voice quiet, just enough for Estel to understand.

“When I was about your age…my mother was killed by orcs.” He stated right out. Estel’s eyes widened and he looked around for the reaction of the others. The twins had averted their gaze in sympathy and Elrond looked at Legolas, a faraway look in his eyes. He didn’t know how to respond to this, having just heard two more very sobering stories. His thoughts were interrupted by Legolas continuing.

“I was there, among the trees, where she hid me. But it wasn’t far enough, I still…saw it all. It scarred me for a long time, still does.” He admitted and Estel still stared, frozen.

“I know technically, in human years, you are still younger than I was then. My…plan…was to get you out without having to see much of the fighting. I wanted you save. I was a bit stunned by the amount of rope they used on me but I would have just waited for your brothers to arrive.” He stole a glance at the twins, who just nodded.

“Also, one never sheds the blood of Illuvatar’s children lightly if it is not absolutely necessary.” He further explained as if this was a lesson to be learned in an abstract and absurd class session they were having right now.

“Then your knives…?” Estel asked, obviously putting many pieces into place in his mind.

“The knives belonged to her, yes. My father gave them to me when I became of age and joined the guard.”

Estel was quiet for a few moments. He tried to process what had been revealed to him (again). Legolas had treated him like a child, yes. But it was different with him. From his past experience he just wanted to protect Estel from the same fate. He could understand that.

So he simply nodded and a short silence fell over them all.

“Legolas?” Estel asked. The prince looked up from the grass below and smiled.

“Yes?”

“How long are you staying?”

Elrond and the Twins looked at Legolas as well. They did not know either, often Legolas’ visits were short due to him being needed at home. But he had to heal now anyway and judging by the smile on  his face, for once, he would take that time. Elrond was sure Estel’s presence had more to do with that than the child was aware.

“How long do you want me to stay?” Legolas asked instead, patiently waiting for Estel’s answer. Elrond frowned. He wondered inwardly if Thranduil would approve of this friendship. In him it sparked something in the back of his mind and he hoped it was nothing negative.

“At least two more weeks! I have something great to show you can will only happen then!” Estel grinned and gestured wildly to something far off to the right.

“Alright. It shall be arranged.” Legolas agreed, nodding. Estel jumped up, stretched his hands in the air and made a gleeful noise. They all laughed along at his happiness.

“Now who wants to see how I best the twins in Archery?” Legolas said after they all quieted again. He grinned and started to get up, ignoring the short wince it induced. Elrohir’s eyes widened while Elladan only glared. Elrond pursed his lips and raised as well, if only to halter Legolas in his movements.

“You are not healed yet, young man.”

“And if that does not hinder me, how much worse would you two feel?” he asked and in the next second, the twins were up, Elladan pointing a finger at him while Elrohir’s fists were balled.

“Oh just you wait you little…” and he grabbed for Legolas, but the wood-elf was gone from his grasp and down the hall already.

“Legolas! Take it easy for Valar’s sake!” Elrond screamed, slowly walking after them.

For a few seconds, Estel remained seated. He looked at his father and brothers and smiled, realizing that this afternoon with Legolas had been the first time in a long time that they had spent together and not been in a somber mood.

For a few seconds, Estel sat there and wondered how Legolas did it. Then he shrugged, got up and ran after them all.

“Wait up!” he screamed, grin back in place.

The rope burns on his wrists were long forgotten.