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Can You Hear Me  by phoenixqueen

Can You Hear Me?

Disclaimer: All references to Middle-Earth belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  I am only borrowing them to satisfy my crazy imagination.  The song “Can You Hear Me?” belongs to Mark Schultz.  I intend no infringement on anyone’s work; full credit is given to the owners of these works!

Author’s Notes: This is my first attempt at a LotR fic.  Please don’t flame me if I totally screw up something like spelling, or place names or something!  Reviews are much appreciated!  Also, some lyrics to the song were left out because I couldn’t make them fit in the context of the story.  Sorry if I am messing up on someone’s favorite song!

Also I am operating under Cassia and Sio’s interpretation about how Aragorn was raised as Elrond’s son, with Elladan and Elrohir as his brothers.  For the purposes of this story I am assuming that Gilraen died along with Arathorn.

Summary: A young Aragorn gets very sick after arriving at Rivendell and Elrond sits up with him one night.

Italics are song lyrics

/…/ are private thoughts

 

Soft, gentle moonlight shone through the open window of the large bedroom in the house of Lord Elrond, Master of Rivendell.  A small fire crackled cheerfully on the hearth, its flickering light adding to the shadows inside the room.

Elrond sat in a large stuffed armchair next to the bed, watching over the tiny occupant of the large bed.  His adopted human son, Estel, also known as Aragorn, lay wrapped snugly under the thick covers, tossing and turning in the grips of a terrible fever.  Nothing that the elf lord had tried had worked to break the fever, and all he could do was watch his son as he struggled while the illness ran its course.

/Iluvatar help me. / the elf prayed silently.  He was extremely worried about Estel.  In the short time that the tiny child had been in Rivendell, he had managed to work himself firmly into the elder elf’s heart, simply by being present in the house.  It had been many, many years since there had been children in the house, and Estel had brought the house back to life again.

/Please, help him.  Help him fight this illness. /  It tore at Elrond’s heart to see Estel like this.  The elf lord was a Master Healer, and to be unable to help his son now was tearing him apart slowly.  He had done everything that he could think of to help the boy, and he hated to admit defeat, but the situation had almost pushed him to that point.  The only thing left that he could think of was asking Iluvitar to help Aragorn.

I’m down on my knees again tonight

Hoping this prayer will turn out right

See, there’s a boy who needs your help

I’ve done all that I can do myself

I’m sure that you can understand.

The boy had become so special to Elrond, the same way that his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir were.  The twins were of course much older than Aragorn, but even they had fallen for the adorable child, readily adopting the five year old as a younger brother.

Elrond almost couldn’t remember what life had been like before Aragorn had entered their lives.  Ever since the child had been brought to Rivendell by Elladan, the boy had done everything he could to get to know his new family, often creating some hilarious moments between him and the twins.

All of this flashed through Elrond’s mind as he watched his son.  He was hurting for Aragorn; he was powerless to help the child right now.  What was he going to do? He would willingly take Estel’s place if he could, but elves couldn’t get sick, unless it was through poison or injury, but that wasn’t the same thing.

Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

If you can hear me,

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone

He’s my son.

 

The firelight flickered slightly, and Elrond took his attention off of Estel long enough to see that the fire was beginning to die.  He released Estel’s hand and went to the fireplace to place another log on.  As the fire began to consume this new addition, Elrond retook his seat next to Estel’s bed, once again holding the boy’s hand lightly in his own as he checked the child’s temperature.  The fever still had not broken.

Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep

I dream of the boy he’d like to be

I try to be strong and see him through

But God who he needs right now is you

 

Elrond often found himself wondering what Estel would be like when he had grown.  Would he take the throne of Gondor that was rightfully his, as the Heir of Isildur?  Or would he choose to do something else with his life that would be equally satisfying to him?  It was hard to say at this time, when Estel was still so little and carefree.

Suddenly, Aragorn began to whimper as a nightmare took him in the grips of the fever, where he couldn’t escape it.  Elrond was brought back out of his musings with a jerk, as Estel began crying deliriously, in the common tongue.  “Father?  No, no not father?  Please no, no…”

Elrond gently attempted to shake his son awake, trying to release him from the nightmare’s hold.  The fever still clung to the child, but he woke anyway, with a small cry.  “Father!”  His eyes were glazed with the fever and his face was flushed an alarming shade of pink.

“Estel, shhh.  I’m here.  There is nothing to be afraid of, I am right here.”  Elrond said soothingly, in the grey tongue.  Estel understood elvish better than he could speak it at this point, but he was learning rapidly.  That was another endearing quality about the boy; he was an extremely fast learner for his age.

Let him grow old

Live life without this fear

Aragorn relaxed slightly as he picked up the sounds of Elrond’s voice.  Elrond was still concerned about the fever, but right now he needed to get Estel calmed down, less he inadvertently hurt himself, thrashing under the blankets.

Elladan and Elrohir, woken by their brother’s cries, entered the room rubbing bleary eyes.  At the same time they were both concerned about Estel.  They loved him dearly and were extremely protective of the human.

“Father? What’s wrong with Estel?”  Elladan asked as he saw his father gently holding the sick human close to him.  The twins knew Estel was sick but they had assumed that Elrond’s skills would be more than enough to fight the illness.  Elrohir came over and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out and gently claiming Estel’s free hand.

“I have been unable to get his fever to break and he has had another nightmare.”  Elrond replied with a sigh.  Estel had been having nightmares regularly since his arrival, and every time after he had one, he sought out Elrond or one of the twins for comfort.  He never told them what the nightmares were about, but Elrond was willing to bet that they had something to do with the death of his birth mother and father.

“Why won’t his fever break, Father?”  Elrohir asked as he looked at his adopted brother.  Estel was a lot of fun to be around.  Even at this young age, he had a penchant or a talent for constantly being able to surprise his brothers.

“I don’t know why, Elrohir.  It won’t respond to cool water, any fever-reducing herbs, or athelas.”  Elrond said softly.  A faint hint of the powerful healing plant’s sweet scent still lingered on the air, which showed how desperate Elrond had gotten.  The plant was usually only used to drive back poisons, or to bring back someone whose spirit seemed to have fled.  Elrond had had little need to use the plant in the last several thousand years, simply because there hadn’t been anything that a lesser herb couldn’t handle.

Elladan and Elrohir, who were both getting training in the healing arts from their father, knew very well about the potency of the plant.  If athelas couldn’t drive back Aragorn’s fever, what could?  Both of them showed signs of alarm now.  Elrohir voiced a dreadful thought, his voice slightly muted in caution and fright.  “We’re…not going to lose him, are we, Father?”

What would I be living without him here?

“No!”  Elladan protested before Elrond had a chance to answer.  Elrond knew that the elder of the two twins had appointed himself Estel’s protector, out of guilt for the fact that he had been unable to save Arathorn and his wife, Estel’s birth family.

“No, Elrohir.  His illness is not that severe, but it appears that the only thing we can do is to wait and let the illness run its course naturally and see what happens.”  Elrond said softly, glancing back down at Estel, who had fallen back into a feverish slumber while they spoke, lulled by the soft voices.

Before he could continue, however, Elrond caught a faint whiff of something coming through the open window of Estel’s room.  It was a warm, breezy spring night, and the breeze had blown several scents into the room in the course of the night.  He felt Aragorn relax in his arms, and as he looked again, he noted that the boy seemed to be breathing a little easier as he too caught a whiff of the scent.

Elladan and Elrohir were surprised at the suddenly positive look they saw on Elrond’s face at that moment.  Elrond quickly gestured to Elrohir, who still held Estel’s hand.  “Elrohir, hold your brother for a moment.  Elladan, go get me a fresh bowl of water and a clean cloth.  I have to get something that just might help.”

The twins obeyed as Elrond swiftly left the room.  Both twins exchanged puzzled looks as they silently wondered what idea their father had come up with.  A few moments later, Elrond returned with a pale green plant in his hand.

/Iluvatar let this work, please. /  Elrond thought as he shredded the plant in his hand into small pieces and dropped them into the bowl of water that Elladan had placed on the table next to the bed.  He took the cloth and mixed them together, releasing the sharp, clean scent of mint into the air.  Both twins smelled it too, and their questioning gazes met their father’s eyes.

Elrond didn’t take any time to explain his idea to his sons.  He gently took Estel back from Elrohir and laid the small child flat on the head.  Taking the herb-scented cloth, he wiped it gently over Estel’s head and neck.  As Estel breathed the sharp scent in, his breathing eased more.  The mint was clearing up the congestion that had been giving him trouble breathing.

As he continued to bathe Estel’s head, the cool water finally took hold, and the child’s fever eased, and his breathing eased still more.  Finally, Estel opened his eyes.  They were no longer fevered and delirious, but lucid and sleepy.  His soft voice was music to Elrond’s ears.  “Father?”

“Estel, thank Iluvatar.”  Elrond replied in the common tongue, to make it easier for the sleepy child to follow his words.  “We were all worried about you.  Are you feeling any better?”

Aragorn blinked, and slowly nodded.  “Still tired.  And…” he trailed off, not finishing whatever he was about to say.

“What, Estel?  Does it have anything to do with the nightmare you had?”  Elrond asked gently.  “Or is something else wrong?”

“Nightmare.”  Estel answered.  Now his eyes showed his fear, and Elrond smiled to relieve that fear.

“Do you want to tell us about it?  We want to help you Estel.”

The boy nodded his head slowly.  In slightly slurred words, he related his nightmare to the three elves.  “I was in the for’st with a man who looked like me.  He was playing wi’ me and then I saw a big dark behind him.  Then, he suddenly just stopped playing, and fell over with his eyes open.  The dark got bigg’r and did the same th’ng to a pretty lady that was there too.  The dark turned to me and got me too, I not able to get ‘way.”  The little boy’s eyes were wide with fright as he told his tale.

He’s so tired

And he’s scared

Let him know that you’re there

Elladan and Elrohir both glanced swiftly at Elrond.  They had been present the day that Arathorn and his wife had died, had been standing next to them when they were shot with arrows.  Aragorn had been in camp with the other members of the hunting party, and when they returned to the camp, they found it destroyed and looted, the others slain, but Aragorn had been tucked up under some blankets, spared from the destruction for some strange reason.  He had not seen his parents killed, and the twins had never admitted to being there that day.  They tried not to talk about the circumstances that had brought the child to Rivendell, and had never admitted that they were the ones who had done so.

Elrond smiled at the little boy.  “Don’t worry about that right now, Estel.  I am sure that whatever the dark was, it can’t get you here.  See?  The moon is coming in through the window, and your fire is going.”  He too didn’t want to talk to the child about his parents’ deaths yet, and Estel needed more sleep.  “Go to sleep, Estel.  In the morning, the dream will be all gone and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”  Estel nodded, and gave in to sleep, his eyes sliding shut and he drifted off.

Elrond rose to his feet and gestured to the twins to leave the room.  They obeyed, and Elrond softly closed the door behind him as he too, exited.  Estel was alright now, and would continue to be alright.

Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

You can hear me

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone

He’s my son

 

Elrond shooed the twins back to bed, before turning to go back to his own bed for the remainder of the night.  As he prepared for bed, he paused for a moment, before bowing his head.  /Thank you, Iluvatar.  Thank you for hearing me tonight, and for seeing to my son. /

Finishing his preparations, a weary Elrond laid down on his own bed, still thanking Iluvatar for hearing his pleas that night.  He would willingly take Estel’s place in anything, if it became necessary, although the elf lord knew he couldn’t shield his adopted son forever.  While he had the chance though, he would spare Estel anytime he could from what life would throw in the young human’s way.

Can you hear me?

Am I getting through tonight?

Can you see him?

Can you make him feel alright?

You can hear me

Let me take his place somehow

See he’s not just anyone

 

Can you hear me?

Can you see him?

Please don’t leave him

He’s my son

/He’s my son. / Elrond thought contentedly as he felt himself drifting off into a light sleep, ready in case Estel would need anything else in the remainder of the night.  /You have given me a most wondrous gift in my Estel, Iluvatar. Thank you and remind me to always treasure Estel, because he’s my son. /





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