Of Webs And Wizards.

Chapter 1. A Chance Encounter?

Estel slowly opened eyes that were heavy with the deep sleep he was being drawn out of by the sounds of well-known voices in the courtyard below. Filled with curiosity as to why Elladan and Elrohir were up so early, he ran quickly through the corridors that lead from the rooms he and his mother occupied in Elrond’s home and into the dull grey morning light that filtered into the courtyard. His run was halted suddenly as he was lifted easily into the arms of Elladan who had spied him rushing towards them out of the corner of his eye.

"Where are you going?" Estel asked breathlessly, looking first at his captor and then turning his gaze to Elrohir, noting they were both dressed for a long journey.

"We are off to Mirkwood to hunt spiders with Legolas," Elrohir answered as he reached across his horse's back and tightened the strap holding his travel pack.

"Spiders? Why does Legolas need help catching spiders?" the child asked innocently, as Elladan lowered him to the ground. "Mama does not need help to find them and she easily catches them," he added, confused as to why an Elf would need assistance if she did not.

"These are no ordinary house spiders, they are very large and very ugly, not to mention poisonous, and they are very hard to kill," explained Elladan. "They live in the trees in the dark places of the forest and prey on any who pass by, and even the Wood Elves are very wary of travelling those paths."

"I am a good hunter, and I am not afraid. Can I come too?" asked Estel, his eyes alight with eagerness, although he still did not really comprehend the danger.

"I am afraid not. It is far too dangerous a hunt for someone as young as you. Besides, Gilraen would never forgive us if a spider ate you!" exclaimed Elrohir as he affectionately tousled the boy's hair. "When you are older we will take you on one of our trips, I promise."

Estel had barely been able to control the tears of disappointment at Elrohir's words, and although he knew that the Elf would honour his promise, it was no consolation as he watched Elrond's sons mount their horses and ride off on their adventure.

With the grim determination and fury of a boy of eight summers who had been laughed at by his elders, he decided on a course of action that was intended to show them how wrong they had been to leave him behind. He quickly made his way to the kitchen and stuffed some lembas cakes in his pocket, took a water bottle from its place by the well and, following a secret track that he had discovered, made his way unseen into the forest that grew to the very gates of Imladris.

The morning dew hung heavily on the leaves of the dense undergrowth Estel was attempting to penetrate as he pursued his quest. As he pushed the branches of another bush aside, to his annoyance, several drops of ice-cold water landed on his head. The droplets hung momentarily on the ends of damp strands of dark hair before they trickled inside the collar of his shirt, leaving a trail of goose bumps as the tiny rivulets rapidly slithered between his shoulder blades and down his back. The tickling sensation made Estel shiver, for now he was not only wet, but cold as well and he felt as gloomy as the threatening grey storm clouds above.

The darkness of this part of the forest, where the trees grew so close that even had the sun been shining, its warm friendly light would not have reached the forest floor, was both frightening and welcome. Surely, he reasoned, there would also be spiders here, maybe not as big as those in Mirkwood, but large enough that he would be considered a clever hunter for killing one or two. Then perhaps next time Elladan and Elrohir would have no excuse for leaving him behind.

Another droplet fell on him and he glared up in annoyance, a jubilant smile replacing his frown as he saw the source of the water. Not leaves, this time, but a very large cobweb, its gossamer threads bending slightly with the weight of the silver drops of dew that glistened even in the pale morning light. In the centre of the web was its maker, a spider larger than any he had seen before, and in his naiveté he was certain that this was at least as big as the ones in Mirkwood. Why, its dark round body was as large as Estel's fist, and he could easily imagine how deadly the poison of such an evil creature would be, though he did not really think it could eat him, as Elladan had suggested. Dismissing that notion as simply an attempt on his foster brother's part to scare him, he looked around for something to use as a weapon.

There was a scattering of large stones beneath his feet and he quickly selected a few of the larger ones, and moved back a few paces so that his target was well within his sights. Taking careful aim, he threw the first stone, hitting the spider but not dislodging it. His second attempt resulted in the miserable creature moving swiftly along one arc of the web and out of sight. Estel muttered several elvish words he was certain Elladan used for cursing, and threw another stone in the direction he had seen the spider flee.

"Do you mind? It is enough that the sky threatens rain, I do not need to be 'hailed' upon by a carelessly thrown stones as well," boomed a loud voice, halting Estel's arm in mid throw. His eyes widened in astonishment at the figure that emerged from behind the trees, and he momentarily lost the ability to speak. "Have you nothing to say?" asked the heavily bearded stranger who was wearing grey robes, a blue pointed hat and leaned heavily on a large staff as he walked. Estel stood transfixed as inquisitive eyes, seemingly full of life and mischief peered deeply into his from under the brim of the hat.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to cause you injury, sir. I thought I was alone in these woods, " he managed to say finally. The old man nodded acceptance of the apology and seated himself on a nearby log.

"So, what are you doing in this dismal place, Estel?" he asked, smiling as the child's jaw dropped open at the use of his name.

"How did you know my name?" he asked, his surprise changing rapidly to wariness; he knew he had never seen this old man before, and had no idea how he had learned his name.

"I know many things," the stranger answered mysteriously, pulling a pipe from out of the folds of his robe and proceeding to light it. "For instance, I know you and your mother live at Imladris as the guests of Lord Elrond, that you have just seen eight summers and that you somehow believe that the small spider up there is comparable to the children of Shelob that are to be found in Mirkwood," he said, glancing up into the tree where all sign of Estel's quarry had vanished.

"You must be some kind of wizard to know such things," commented Estel, daring to sit next to his companion, his curiosity winning out over his initial fear. Somehow he felt drawn to the strange old man and knew instinctively that he meant no harm.

"I have been called that by some," he agreed, a smile lighting his eyes and crinkling his brow. Taking one of the lembas cakes from his pocket, he offered it to his companion, who declined the food with a slight shake of his head. Estel shrugged and munched on the lembas as he continued to study the stranger. The wizard allowed the child to inspect his features and the boy stared in wonder at the age worn face with most of the wrinkles hidden beneath the man's long grey hair and beard. It was a sight he had never seen before, living as he did amongst the ageless Elves.

"How old are you?" he asked, his inspection complete.

"You know, I am not really certain. All I can say is that I have been alive a long time," the wizard answered cryptically.

"Where are you from?" Estel tried again, hoping for a simple answer this time.

"Oh, here and there," was the response. "I do not exactly remember my home."

"I thought you said you knew many things. So far you seem to know nothing except about me," declared Estel, his frustration at the evasive answers evident in his tightly clenched jaw.

"Then perhaps I should have said that I know many IMPORTANT things," the wizard said. "

"And do you also know important PEOPLE, like Lord Elrond?" enquired Estel, not really expecting to hear a straight answer.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I meet them all the time, and in the most unlooked for places," he replied, speaking more to himself than the boy. "As for Elrond, I am well acquainted with him and I am on my way to Imladris to pay him a visit," the wizard said, surprising Estel by answering the question he had intended to ask next. "Would you care to accompany me, Estel? Unless your business with the spiders is more pressing, of course."

"The spiders can wait," he replied unwilling to let such an interesting and totally mysterious person out of his sight. "I wonder, do you happen to remember your name?" he asked raising an eyebrow and causing the old man to laugh out loud.

Placing a friendly arm about the boy's shoulder as they walked towards Imladris, he answered simply, "My name is Gandalf."

Chapter 2. Consequences

Although Estel felt as if he had travelled many miles through the undergrowth in his quest for spiders, the densely wooded part of the forest where he and Gandalf had met was actually barely an hour away from the gates of Imladris, to which the two were now headed. 

“Shall I lead the way, Gandalf? Elrohir says I have ‘much potential’ as a scout, he says I might even become a Ranger when I grow up” said Estel with some pride, and trying out the wizard’s name for the first time. Clearly the child was feeling more at ease with his new friend the longer he was in the old man’s company. 

“Does he now? Then I would certainly like to see a demonstration of your scouting skills. Lead on!” he responded, smiling as the ranger-to-be straightened his shoulders and took on an air of self-confidence as he walked on ahead. “I like your name, does it have a meaning?” asked Estel, as he looked back over his shoulder to make sure he was not setting too fast a pace for the wizard. 

“I believe it means ‘Elf of the Wand’ in the language of the Men of the North,” Gandalf replied.          

“I thought you said you were a wizard!” declared a slightly annoyed Estel as he stopped and turned to face his companion.  

“As I recall, I did not actually say I was a wizard, I believe I said that I have been called one by some,” Gandalf said, unable to keep the mirth from his voice at the sight of his angry young friend now standing in his path, arms folded across his chest and glaring indignantly at his elder.

“You do not look like an Elf, but you are certainly just as annoying as some of them,” the boy stated sullenly, thinking of Elladan and Elrohir in particular. 

“Annoying? Hmm…well I have certainly been called that before. However, as to whether or not I am an Elf, I will bow to your judgement in that area since you are well acquainted with so many,” Gandalf conceded, indicating that they should continue towards their destination with a wave of his hand.  

 “Do you know what ‘Estel’ means?” the boy asked, his anger apparently having evaporated as quickly as it had arisen, only to be replaced by curiosity. 

“You are definitely a most inquisitive child,” commented Gandalf, “but yes, your name means ‘hope’, and a very fitting name it is for you, too.”  

“That is what I overheard Lord Elrond tell Glorfindel one day,” confessed Estel. 

“Really? Do you often listen to conversations not meant for your ears?” his companion asked with some interest, smiling at the slight pink tinge that slowly crept up the child’s neck.  

“It was an accident, honestly! I did not mean to listen; I was just trying to hide from Elladan. It was not my fault they stopped to talk in front of the statue I was hiding behind,” he confessed with an honesty that impressed Gandalf. “Besides, I have no idea what they were talking about or why ‘hope’ is a good name for me.” 

“Then perhaps you should ask Elrond to explain,” suggested the wizard kindly. It had already been decided that Elrond should tell Estel the truth about his heritage, but it was not yet time. “Oh! Look! I do believe we are approaching the gates of Imladris, and not a moment too soon!” exclaimed Gandalf as the first large drops of rain began to fall, conveniently allowing him to avoid any further conversation regarding names.  

Even though they ran quickly for the shelter ahead, both of them were soaking wet before they reached the entrance hall of the Last Homely House.  

“Estel! Where have you been?” demanded Gilraen angrily. She had seen her wayward son and his companion running across the courtyard and was standing in the doorway, awaiting their arrival, a mixture of relief and anger on her lovely face. “I have been searching everywhere for you this morning, as have many others. How many times have I told you not to wander off without my permission? What have you to say for yourself?” she demanded, her eyes flashing with the fury of motherly wrath. 

“I am sorry for making you angry, Mother, and I did not mean to worry you, but I had something important to do in the woods,” he explained, hugging her around the waist in what he hoped was a conciliatory gesture. Gilraen sighed and returned the hug, but was not placated. “I even met a wizard,” he said smiling at Gandalf who bowed politely to Gilraen, whom he had met a few years ago during one of his previous visits to Elrond’s home. With a curt nod of greeting in reply to the wizard, she turned her attention back to her son.

“I am glad that you are safely returned, but I am afraid your actions cannot go unpunished, no matter how sorry you appear to be,” she said sternly. “However, first we must get you out of those wet clothes. A nice warm bath, and some breakfast is in order, then we can discuss this further,” she said more gently as she noticed the child begin to shiver in the cool air. 

“But I had a bath yesterday…” he started to protest, only to be quickly silenced by the glare she favoured him with, her eyes warning him to say nothing more. Now was not the time for their usual disagreement about bathing and his distinct lack of fondness for the activity, Estel wisely decided. 

“You are freezing cold, and you are covered with dirt…. and scratches,” she stated as she inspected his face more closely. “And what have you done to this?” she asked, sighing in exasperation and pointing to the rather long rip in the sleeve of his shirt.

“It is just a little tear,” said Estel, dismissing the problem with a casual shrug of his shoulders. His mother always complained about the state of his clothes after he had been playing or had been on some adventure, for no matter how hard he tried, he could never manage to keep neat and tidy. He was not an Elf, after all.  

 “Honestly, Estel, sometimes I think the more scruffy your appearance, the better you like it. You must learn to take more care,” she admonished as she ushered her son towards their quarters, stopping only to speak to Elrond as he passed them in the hallway.

“Thank you for your assistance….again,” said Estel’s’ mother, looking pointedly at the child whose hand she held in a firm grasp.

“I see I may now call off the search parties,” commented Elrond dryly, smiling at Gilraen with a look of parental understanding for, as the father of twin boys he knew exactly how much trouble a son could be. “I trust your mother will devise a suitable punishment for you, Estel, so all I will say is that I am most disappointed with your behaviour this morning,” said Elrond, the tone of reprimand in his voice was not lost on the child who stood silently, his eyes downcast.

“Come, Estel, the bath awaits,” said Gilraen, leading her son towards their chambers.   

Estel decided that rather than risk angering his mother further, he should suffer her ministrations in silence, nevertheless he was relieved when she was finally satisfied that he was clean enough to finish his bath and get dressed.

“Your clothes are on the chair,” she said as she handed him a towel. “Please dress quickly while I go to the kitchen and fetch you some breakfast.” Gilraen returned a few minutes later with a bowl of steaming oatmeal and a pot of the herb tea she favoured. Although he had eaten some lembas earlier, Estel hungrily devoured his breakfast while his mother sipped her tea.

“What were you doing in the woods?” she asked when he had finished eating.

“Hunting spiders.”

“Why?”

“Because Elladan and Elrohir would not let me go to Mirkwood with them, they said I was too young to hunt spiders,” he explained.

“I see, and you wanted to prove them wrong?” she surmised.

“Yes, I almost killed a VERY BIG one, but that wizard scared it away,” he declared, deciding that Gandalf was to blame for his inability to actually harm the spider he had found.

“Be that as it may,” said Gilraen, obviously unimpressed, “you should not have been there at all, and as far as Mirkwood is concerned, the twins were correct, it is a dangerous place for adults, let alone a child, no matter how grown up he thinks he is,” she added before he had a chance to argue the point. “You do know that you are not permitted to go into the forest without telling anyone, especially me, where you are going, don’t you?” Estel nodded, his heart beat beginning to race as he waited to hear his punishment. “Yet you chose to disobey that rule. Well, to give you some time to reflect on your unacceptable behaviour, I have decided that you are not to leave this room for the rest of the day, for any reason. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mother,” he answered meekly, thinking that since the rainy weather would have kept him indoors anyway, it was a sentence he could easily endure.

“Very well. I will return at noon with your midday meal,” she said, kissing him gently on the forehead before leaving him alone.

                                                  *******        

“Gandalf, it is a pleasure to see you again,” said Elrond continuing on to greet the wizard who had remained in the entrance hall and watched the scene between mother and son in amused silence.  “ I see you have finally decided to make yourself known to Estel,” he added, inclining his head in the direction Gilraen and her son had just departed.  

“Greetings, Elrond. Yes, it was fortunate that I came upon the young one in the forest, he might have done himself some harm, but we can speak more of our meeting later. Have you not noticed the unpleasant weather we are experiencing this morning? I think Gilraen’s idea of a nice warm bath is quite appealing, these old bones feel the cold terribly,” he said sadly, knowing Elrond would take the hint. He was not disappointed.

“Forgive my rudeness, Gandalf, my friend,” apologised Elrond with a small bow of respect. “Let me show you to your usual room. Shall I organise some breakfast for you as well as a hot bath?” 

“An excellent suggestion,” agreed the wizard enthusiastically, clapping the Elf Lord on the shoulder as they made their way to the guest apartments.

Chapter 3.  Many Questions.

Kneeling on the stone bench and propping his elbows on the balcony rail so that he could rest his chin in his cupped hands, Estel watched the falling rain. It was not heavy rain, not even a light shower but more of a mist, its gentle caress providing life-giving moisture to all the growing things in the many gardens of Imladris.

Suddenly he jerked upright, frowning. Something did not quite feel right, and he wondered what it was that had pricked his subconscious. Of course! How could it be raining so heavily 'outside' the gates, but not 'inside'? Maybe it had something to do with Gandalf? Everyone knew that wizards had mysterious powers. Recalling how unlikely it was that the old man would answer his query, he decided he had best ask Lord Elrond instead.

Leaving the rain to fall unobserved, Estel went back inside and walked over to his school desk. Rummaging through the numerous objects that were piled on top of it, he smiled as his hands quickly found his slate, and not long after, his chalk. Although he hated lessons, he was a quick study and had a natural aptitude for language that impressed his tutors, Gilraen and Elrond. Taking up his preferred position of lying on his stomach on the furry rug in front of the fireplace, he started to make a list entitled,

'Questions to ask Lord Elrond'.

Why does the rain fall harder outside the gates?

Why am I called 'hope'?

Do the spiders in Mirkwood really eat people? (I do not believe Elladan!)

Who is Gandalf?

When will I be old enough to go hunting with Elladan and Elrohir?

Satisfied that those were all the questions gnawing at his curiosity, at least for the present, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling while he contemplated how he would get a message to his foster father without leaving the room. He knew that his mother would not return for a few hours, and he did not wish to disobey her again by sneaking out to see Elrond. Asking his mother to take the message to him was, however, the sensible thing to do. Pleased with that solution, he put the slate on the small meal table and turned his attention to hunting around the room for house spiders. It was a futile effort, for he found none, but it made the time pass quickly and soon the sweet chiming of the noon bell could be heard, its usual crisp echo dulled slightly by the damp weather.

Shortly after the bell rang, he heard a knock on his door and opened it to find his mother, as she had promised, carrying his lunch tray. The meal that consisted of warm broth and some fresh bread rolls was more than enough for the two of them, and he was pleased to have her company.

"What is this?" Gilraen asked, noticing her son's neat script on the slate as she picked it up to move it from the table to make room for the tray.

"I have so many questions I need to ask Lord Elrond today that I wrote them down so I remember to ask them all," replied Estel as he helped himself to a bread roll and began eating his broth.

"Hmm.. I suppose he is the best one to answer these," she agreed after she quickly cast her eyes over the list. "Since you are in the mood for questions and answers, Estel, I have one for you. Why do you still call him 'Lord Elrond' when he has made it clear he would be pleased for you to call him 'father'?" It had been several days since Elrond had voiced his offer, but Estel had refused and become so upset that Gilraen had decided to wait for the right moment to pursue the matter.

"Because he is not my real father," stated the child simply, suddenly finding the bread crumbs on his plate to be of great interest.

"No, he is not, and he knows that as well as you or I," his mother said as she knelt beside him and placed her fingers under his chin so that she could gently turn his face towards hers. "But just as your father dearly loved you, so does he. As much as he loves his own children." Said Gilraen her instincts alerting her to the real issue. "I am sure that wherever your father is, he knows that you love him. I know that he would not be hurt to hear you call Elrond 'father', in fact, I think he would wish it."

"Why?" he asked dubiously, finding his mother's words a little hard to believe.

"Because they were good friends, almost like brothers themselves," she replied, smiling sadly at the memory of the look of wonder on the faces of the Elf lord and the Man of Númenor, as they stood, shoulder to shoulder, gazing at the newborn Aragorn.

"Really? They were great friends?" asked Estel, suddenly very interested in the turn of the conversation. Gilraen nodded, then pointed to the slate.

"Hand me your chalk and I will add that question to your list, then I will take it to Elrond, if you wish."

"Yes, please," answered Estel happily, pleased that his mother had offered to do the very thing he wanted her to without him having to ask. He was certain that once Lord Elrond saw how important the questions were, he would come and answer them immediately.

******

Elrond and Gandalf had spent the whole morning in Elrond's library discussing the difficulties facing Thranduil in Mirkwood, and what threat the shadow over Dol Guldur might signify for all the peoples of Middle Earth, both at present and in the years ahead. Finally having finished with the exchange of news, and making plans, Elrond refilled Gandalf's wine glass and asked him what he thought of Estel.

"He is a very perceptive, intelligent child, but far too inquisitive for my taste, or his own good," he said, smiling as Elrond nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I think it is only a matter of time before he questions his origins," the Lord of Imladris said.

"Especially if careless words are spoken where small ears can hear them," said Gandalf sternly. Elrond looked surprised at what was obviously a rebuke.

"To what, exactly, do you refer?" he asked.

"Apparently Elrohir is encouraging him to become a Ranger, and he is extremely curious as to why you and Glorfindel believe 'hope' is a very appropriate name," replied the wizard.

"He will become a Ranger, I see no problem there, we do not speak openly of his heritage, but his name. How did he hear that?"

"He inadvertently overheard an indiscreet conversation in the hallway," explained Gandalf.

"That is disquieting; I will take more care in future. The older he becomes, the more likely he will know he has not been told all; he is very astute, even at his present tender age. We must all be on our guard not to let the truth be known too soon," mused Elrond.

"Exactly, but it is not only Estel's ears we need be concerned about. Isildur's heir is safe in Imladris, as long as Sauron is not aware of his existence. We would all do well to remember that the Dark Lord has spies everywhere," warned Gandalf. They both started slightly when the ensuing silence was broken by a knock on the door.

"Gilraen, what can I do for you?" asked Elrond politely as he ushered his visitor inside.

"Estel has some questions," she said, handing him the list, which he read quickly then passed it to Gandalf, who raised his eyebrows in concerned surprise. A meaningful look passed between Elf and wizard; the list proved that their discussion had been well timed. The silent exchange did not go unnoticed by Gilraen.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"No, all is well. Ask Estel to come and see me later this afternoon, for I fear I will be unavailable until then," Elrond said apologetically.

"Do you think you could go to him, instead? I am afraid he is confined to his room until the evening meal," she explained.

"Of course, discipline must be maintained. His answers can wait," said Elrond with a smile that reflected both his understanding and approval of her actions.

"Would you care to join us in a glass of wine?" offered Gandalf, much to both Elrond's and Gilraen's surprise. "I think it is time we also become better acquainted."

"Why, yes thank you," said Gilraen as she sat in the armchair vacated by Elrond and accepted the wine. "So, tell me, Gandalf, are you a wizard or an Elf?" she asked with the slightest gleam of mischief in her eyes. Elrond and Gandalf both laughed at her boldness, and the three adults spent a pleasant hour in conversation, until Glorfindel arrived reminding Elrond and Gandalf that they had other business to attend to that day.

******

Estel was bored. He wandered listlessly around his room, rushing to the door whenever he thought he heard voices outside, hoping that one of them was Elrond. He knew that Gilraen must have delivered his message hours ago, and he was beginning to believe that his foster father did not wish to see him, that he was angry with him for some reason. Maybe he was still angry with him for going into the forest this morning, or maybe it was because he had not yet called him 'father'. Maybe Elrond did not love him anymore. That was why he was being ignored.

As his thoughts turned dark he grew angrier and in a fit of temper he stomped around the room, kicking selected pieces of furniture. In an act of revenge, he picked up the book Elrond had set him to read for his studies and threw it across the room. Tears of anger and hurt filled his eyes and began to roll down his cheeks as he climbed onto his bed, buried his face in his pillow and began to sob uncontrollably.

Elrond heard the muffled sobs through the bedroom door and rushed into the room and over to the bed.

"Why the tears, Estel?' he asked softly as he lifted the child into his arms and hugged him close. Rather than try to resist, Estel snuggled against Elrond's chest and sobbed all the more.

"You... you... did not... come." he stammered, trying to control his voice. "I waited forever. I thought you were angry...I thought you did not love me anymore." The pain in the words almost broke Elrond's heart.

"Shhh... I am here now; I came as soon as I could. I am not angry with you and I will always love you, Estel, just as if you were my own son. Never doubt that. Never!" he whispered emphatically as he gently stroked the child's hair, and softly kissed his brow. Elrond's soothing ministrations soon had the desired effect and the sobbing ceased.

"I love you too.. Father," whispered Estel shyly into Elrond's ear.

The tears of joy of the Lord of Imladris fell as softly as the misty rain.

Chapter 4. Some Answers.

Elrond shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, and the sharp sound of the slate hitting the tiled floor as it slid from the edge of the bed reminded the Elf Lord of his original mission.

"Do you wish me to answer your questions now, Estel?" The child smiled at him and nodded eagerly, but made no move to leave the comfort of his foster father's arms. "Very well," Elrond said, tightening his grip slightly so as not to drop the boys as he reached down to retrieve the slate. "I see that your mother added the last question so perhaps I should begin there. Yes, your father and I were close friends, almost like brothers, as she says, yet I had never seen him so happy and proud as on the day you were born. He told me that he hoped for nothing more than a safe and peaceful future for you."

"Is that why I am called Estel?" asked the child, seeing the connection Elrond had tried to make.

"Yes," said Elrond, grateful that no further explanation seemed necessary. It was not the entire truth, but it would suffice for now. "You were also curious about Gandalf?"

"I do not think he is really a wizard?" Estel observed doubtfully.

"He is something more than a wizard, but even I am not exactly certain as to what that may be. He does not give up his secrets easily, not even to one of his oldest friends." Elrond smiled at the surprised look on the child's face. "Neither does he control the rain, either side of the gates; that has more to do with the elvish power that even now protects Imladris."

"Oh." Estel's eyes widened at that unexpected response. Elrond could see a silent 'how?' hovering on Estel's lips and raised his hand to prevent the question from being voiced.

"Do not ask how, just accept it that it is so; some things are beyond explanation," Elrond said, looking back at the list. "Now we come to your foster brothers and the matter of spider hunting in Mirkwood. I am afraid they are correct, the spiders that inhabit the trees in the dark places of the forest are very large, and do have a taste for unwary travellers."

"Then I hope that they are not in danger," said Estel, suddenly afraid for the twins. They often annoyed him and teased him mercilessly on occasion, but he loved them both dearly.

"Hunting anything is dangerous," explained Elrond, "and requires that the hunter be skilled in weapons and self defence. They both possess such skills, as does Legolas, and all three have had many years of experience as hunters. They are in some danger, but it is not as great as it would be if they had the added distraction of taking care of someone who has barely begun training with wooden swords. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father, I understand, and thank you for answering my questions," he said as he turned to hug Elrond tightly around the neck, eliciting a smile of content from the Elf lord. The dull tones of the bell signalling the evening meal filtered in through the balcony doors and Elrond reluctantly set the child on his feet. "Is it that time already? Shall we go to the dining hall together?" he asked. Estel smiled happily and slid his small hand into Elrond's as they walked down the hallway.

******

The next morning dawned bright and clear with no sign of clouds in the sky and Estel briefly wondered if the mysterious power of the elves was responsible for the change. As he ran across the courtyard, he decided it was not important, for now that his confinement was at an end, he had other plans. Running headlong into Gandalf as he rounded the corner of the building was not one of them, however.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Estel, as he disentangled himself from the wizard's robes. "I hope I did not hurt you?"

"No, but I think you would be wise to either slow down or at least look where you are going," suggested Gandalf. "Where are you headed in such a rush, anyway?"

"El. um. I mean... father has asked Glorfindel to teach me how to shoot. I am going to the archery range." Gandalf smiled at Estel's tentative use of the word 'father', and he was pleased to know that the issue had been resolved, as were all the inhabitants of Imladris. It had been many years since they had seen their beloved Lord Elrond so happy and content.

"I have no plans this morning, would you permit to accompany you?" Gandalf asked.

"I would like that," replied Estel, thinking he might learn more about his new friend, perhaps even something that his father did not know. It was only a short walk to the archery range that was used both for practice and the occasional competition and Estel and Gandalf arrived to find Glorfindel already waiting.

"Good morning, Glorfindel," said Gandalf, bowing respectfully to the golden haired Elf lord.

"Yes it is a good morning," replied Glorfindel, favouring Estel with a smile and indicating for him to sit beside him on the grass. "I would ask why you have decided to grace us with your presence, Gandalf, but I do not feel the need to waste my breath," he said, sounding to Estel's ears much like Elladan or Elrohir did when they were teasing someone, as they often did.

"I merely wish to enjoy the morning sun whilst watching your young charge take his archery lesson," replied the wizard haughtily, feigning offence.

"If you say so," laughed Glorfindel. "Now, Estel, before you can shoot, you must learn about your weapons." Gandalf sat smoking his pipe in quiet contemplation as the lesson continued, his attention directed elsewhere than the stringing of bows or the fletching of arrows. Thus he was startled out of his reverie when he heard Estel cry out.

"Oh no! I did not mean to do that!" he wailed as he ran to where his last arrow had landed. Both Glorfindel and Gandalf quickly followed and watched as the child bent down to pick up the rabbit that had managed to run between the arrow and the target. "Should I remove the arrow?" he asked, looking to his elders for advice.

"See if you can stop the rabbit from wriggling so much first, that way less injury will be caused when the arrow is removed," suggested the wizard. The animal was certainly in pain and obviously terrified, but as they watched, Estel kept stroking it gently and whispering to it until gradually the creature calmed enough so that its struggling ceased and it lay quietly in the boy's arms.

"Very interesting," Gandalf murmured softly to himself, eliciting a glance of suspicion from Glorfindel, whose elvish hearing easily caught the words. "It would appear you have some of your father's healing abilities," observed Gandalf, raising his voice so that Estel could hear.

"Which of his fathers are you referring to?" asked Glorfindel softly.

Although he had only ever seen Elrond remove an arrow once, from Elladan's shoulder, he seemed to instinctively know what to do. The others watched as he expertly performed the task, then press his hand against the wound to stem the flow of blood.

"Both of them, of course," whispered Gandalf in reply. Glorfindel pulled the wizard aside and lowered his voice even further.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you set this incident up as a test, to see if he has the healing powers of the King he is to become?" asked Glorfindel, his tone of voice indicating that he knew he had assumed correctly, even if the wizard would not admit the truth.

"Think what you will, but do not voice such thoughts in his presence," cautioned Gandalf sternly.

While they had been speaking, Estel had wrapped the wound in a bandage hastily fashioned from some cloth he tore from the bottom of his shirt and was attempting feed the rabbit some crumbs of the lembas he always carried in his pocket.

"I think I should take the rabbit to father now," he said, walking slowly across the archery range. "Thank you for the lesson, Glorfindel," he said, remembering his manners.

"You are most welcome, shall I see you here again tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes, please," he replied enthusiastically. "I need to become skilled enough so that I can go hunting with Elladan and Elrohir! Are you coming, Gandalf?" he asked, stopping to see if the wizard was following.

"Yes, I think a nice cup of that tea Elrond favours is in order," replied the old man.

They reached the rooms Elrond used as healing chambers, to find the Lord of Imladris sitting quietly, studying a scroll that detailed some ancient medicines. To Estel's surprise, a pot of hot tea sat next on the table near Elrond and Gandalf poured himself a cup as he watched the child placed his patient on one of the small benches. Estel looked on nervously as Elrond examined the both the creature and the treatment it had been given.

"Is it going to live, father?" he asked after several minutes went by with no comment from Elrond.

"Yes, thanks to your skill, the rabbit should be able to be returned to the forest in the morning. The arrow did not penetrate very far, and the wound was treated just as it should have been. I am most impressed," he said, his heart warming at the brilliant smile his praise elicited from his foster son.

"I did not mean to shoot it," Estel said, moving forward so that he could continue stroking the soft fur.

"I am sure you did not, but now you can see why you must learn the skills before you can join the hunt. A stray arrow can injure or even kill an unintended victim. I think it would be a good idea to take the rabbit up to your room so that you can look after it overnight," he suggested, placing the creature in one of the large baskets that were used as containers when gathering medicinal herbs and plants. "Oh, and Estel," he called as the child left the room, "might I also suggest you tuck your shirt in before your mother sees the state it is in. I will tell her how it came about later."

Chapter 5.  The Impatienience of Youth

“Eeeep!”

His mother’s loud shriek of surprise from her bedchamber caused Estel to wake with a start.

“Caught you!”

He heard her shout gleefully as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his mind still cloudy with sleep confusing the sounds coming from his mother’s room next door with the misty memories of his dreams. One fact could not be denied, he was in his own bed, not on the hearthrug where he was certain he had fallen asleep the night before as he watched over the wounded rabbit.  He cast a glance across room not surprised to see the pillow and blanket that he had used as a makeshift bed were still there, but to his dismay he also saw that the rabbit’s basket had somehow toppled over. It was with some concern and much haste that he threw back the bedcovers and ran over to check the health of his patient, only to find that, unfortunately, the basket was no longer occupied. For a brief moment he wondered where the rabbit could have gone, until he heard his mother calling his name in a rather irate tone of voice.

 “ESTEL! I believe this creature belongs to you?” exclaimed Gilraen as she pushed open the door between their rooms and entered, carefully carrying the furry escapee. The child took the rabbit and placed it back into the basket, smiling at the two bright eyes that peered at him over the edge.  

“I am sorry, Mother,” he said as he knelt and fed the animal a few lembas crumbs, giggling as rabbit whiskers tickled the palm of his hand. “I was asleep, I do not know how he found his way into your room. I am sure he did not mean to scare you,” he added with an innocent smile. 

“He did not * scare * me, he just * surprised * me! I do not usually find such a creature trying to burrow into my slippers. I imagine he came through here,” she said pointing to the doorway through which she had just stepped. “I must not have closed it properly after Elrond put you to bed last night.” 

Estel smiled, pleased to learn that the hazy images that he had awoken to of being carried in strong, elvish arms and gently placed under the covers of his bed, followed by the comforting sensation of lips lightly brushing his forehead, were not simply the remnants of a dream, but had really happened.

“It is my opinion that if your patient is well enough to explore my rooms, he is well enough to be released back to the forest,” declared Gilraen. Knowing his mother was correct, but also wishing to keep the rabbit a little longer, Estel was reluctantly forced to make a choice. 

“I will take him back to the archery range with me later this morning,” he said, thinking that since that was where the rabbit was wounded, he probably had his burrow nearby. At least he would have him for a little longer. 

“That reminds me, I saw Glorfindel on his way to the dining hall earlier, and he asked that you meet him for your lesson immediately after breakfast; which is where we should be right now,” she added, reaching down to pick up both basket and its occupant. “I think that in order to prevent any further escapes, we should take the your friend with us.”

After breakfast, Glorfindel sought out Estel to accompany him to the archery range, the Elf lord offering to carry the basket so that Estel could hold the rabbit in his arms as they walked.

“I see that Gandalf has decided not to join us today,” commented Glorfindel as he watched Estel release the animal back into the wild. The rabbit began hopping away, but suddenly stopped to turn and twitch his ears as if in a gesture of thanks to Estel, before quickly disappearing amongst the long grass beneath the trees at the edge of the practice range. 

“According to Mother, he and father are discussing important matters in the library this morning,” explained the child as he fastened his quiver to his back in preparation for his lesson. “They said I can join them after the noon meal,” he added, his eyes alight with excitement and pride at being allowed such a privilege.

“Until then, I suggest you concentrate on your archery lessons, for I am certain there are other unwary rabbits nearby,” teased Glorfindel as he handed Estel one of the smaller bows.  

“I will not miss the target again,” stated Estel with an air of self-confidence that impressed the Elf lord. 

More impressive was the fact that his actions mirrored his words, and at the end of the lesson his arrows had hit the target every time. 

“Well done, Estel, you have the skill and determination to make an excellent archer. You certainly show more talent than either Elladan or Elrohir did when they were first learning to shoot,” said Glorfindel as they removed the arrows from the target. Estel beamed with delight at receiving such a compliment and hoped that Glorfindel might repeat it when the twins were listening. 

“How many more lessons will I need before I can go hunting?” asked Estel, frowning slightly as Glorfindel laughed at the eagerness of the child to grow up. 

“It is likely that several more years will pass before you are allowed that privilege,” he answered truthfully.  

“Oh,” responded Estel. It was not the answer he wanted to hear, and the sad droop of his shoulders spoke eloquently of his disappointment. 

                                          ******* 

Estel was also disappointed to find that neither Elrond nor Gandalf were attending the noon meal, and that his mother was busy elsewhere. Rather than eat alone, he grabbed a bread roll and an apple and hurried to the library.  

“Come in, Estel,” called Elrond, before the child even had a chance to knock on the door.  

“How did you know it was me?” he asked as he entered the room and moved over to sit beside Gandalf, who was studying a rather large map.

“There is no mistaking the sound of your footsteps running down the hallway. I have heard them so often that they are easily recognisable,” explained Elrond his eyes alight with mirth and raising his eyebrow in amusement as Gandalf pointed to the Elf lord’s ears.

“Oh, elvish hearing…. I forgot,” said Estel, nodding in understanding. 

“So, how are you enjoying your archery lessons?” asked Elrond as he returned his attention to the map that he was also studying. 

“I like Glorfindel, and the lessons, and today I hit the target every time!” he exclaimed proudly. 

“Perhaps Imladris will eventually have an archer capable of challenging Legolas of Mirkwood,” said Gandalf nonchalantly. “No insult intended to your archers, of course, Elrond,” he added. 

“None taken. There is no doubt that young Thranduilion is currently the most skilled Elven archer in either Mirkwood or Imladris, and possibly Lothlórien were he ever to attend a contest there,” admitted Elrond generously.

“I like Legolas,” said Estel suddenly, catching both Elrond and Gandalf by surprise. 

“Really? When did you meet him?” asked Gandalf curiously.

“When he came here last year, with some Elves who were travelling to the Havens,” answered Estel.

“Legolas and several other warriors were acting as escort for a group of his people who were joining some of their kinfolk from Imladris on their journey to Valinor.” Elrond clarified. “The warriors stayed here overnight before returning to Mirkwood.”

“Oh, I see. Why do you like him, Estel? Surely one brief meeting is not a sound basis on which to form an opinion?” asked Gandalf.

“It is for me! He let me sit next to him at the evening meal, and told me some stories about Elladan and Elrohir!” Estel explained. Elrond looked slightly alarmed at that last piece of information and Estel suddenly thought it may not be such a good idea to mention that the Mirkwood Elf had also helped him put pepper in his foster brother’s wine after they had teased him about still being a babe as far as they were concerned.

“Well, that certainly explains your instant friendship,” laughed Gandalf. “Now where we?” he muttered more to himself than his companions as he turned his attention back to the map.

“What is so interesting?” asked Estel, resting his elbows on the desk and peering at the parchment that was yellowing with age.

“Gandalf was showing me all the places he has visited since last he passed through Imladris,” said Elrond. “That is why we invited you here, for I was sure you would be interested in hearing a first hand description of far away places.”

“Yes please!” exclaimed Estel, his eyes bright with anticipation. The child listened, entranced as Gandalf told him tales of the many wonders he had seen as he travelled to such places as the grasslands of Rohan, the sea at Dol Amroth and the beauty of the White City. The wizard’s descriptions were so vivid, and were possessed of some mystical quality that allowed Estel to easily imagine he was seeing each place with his own eyes. The spell was broken when Gandalf finished speaking and Estel knew that one day, when he was grown up, he would travel to all those places and seek adventures just as the wizard had done.

“Where are you going to visit next?” asked Estel.

“First I intend to have some discussions with Thranduil in Mirkwood, then I head south to Lothlórien. It has been far too long since last I dined with the lovely Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn,” he answered.

“Will you say hello to Legolas for me? I asked Elladan to, but he will probably forget,” said Estel, as a small sigh of exasperation escaped his lips.

“Yes. I will remember to pass on your greeting.”

“And will you tell him that as soon as Glorfindel says I am an archer I will visit him in Mirkwood, and challenge him to a contest?” asked the child eagerly.

“Yes, and I will also remember to issue your challenge,” replied Gandalf.

“You had better tell him it will not be for a few years yet though,” Estel added sadly. A few years was not a long time for an Elf, but it was a very long time for an impatient young man.

“You will grow up soon enough, Estel,” said Elrond, sensing the cause of his son’s sadness as he placed an affectionate arm around the small shoulders. “You should enjoy your childhood to the full. Do not be in such a hurry to meet your destiny.”