“Come on, ‘Ro!” The little boy’s gleeful giggles could be heard even from the other room. “Time to play!”

Elrohir sighed. He had agreed to take Gilraen’s son for the evening as a kindness on her behalf. Aragorn—Estel now, he reminded himself—had entered a stage where he felt throwing a tantrum was necessary whenever he was displeased. The last few days in particular had been especially trying, leaving Gilraen exhausted. Still recovering from a leg wound while his brother led a patrol in the Wilds, Elrohir felt it was the least he could do to take the child off her hands for one night. Besides, the boy seemed to have taken a liking to him in the weeks since coming to Rivendell.

This did not, however—as Elrohir was quickly discovering—make Estel any more inclined to listen to the peredhel. Nearly an hour had passed since “bedtime.” Elrohir had read stories, made shadow puppets on the wall, and chased Estel around the room until he thought the boy had surely worn himself out. But the moment Elrohir extinguished the lamps, Estel had leapt out of bed and run into the next room. It was from there now that his laughter could be heard.

Elrohir slowly made his way towards the doorway into the other room. He found that Estel had hidden under a table, peering out from beneath with wide grey eyes.

“Come play, ‘Ro!” he cried.

“I wish we could, Estel,” Elrohir said as he knelt beside his charge, “but we have to go to sleep now.”

“No sleep, ‘Ro,” the boy replied, “Time to play!”

“Time to sleep,” Elrohir countered, his voice resigned. “We can play more in the morning.”

“Play now!” Estel shrieked with laughter as he ran out from under the table, past Elrohir and back into the bedroom. Elrohir marveled briefly at the child’s insatiable energy, and wondered how one so small could move so fast. Rising to his feet yet again, he crossed over into the other room, where Estel was seated contentedly beside his blocks. He held one eagerly out to Elrohir. “Help me build a tower!”

Elrohir gently took the block from Estel’s tiny hand and placed it back in the neat pile. “No, Estel,” he said in what he hoped was a firm voice, “It is time to go to sleep now.”

“No,” Estel repeated, his mouth set in a stubborn line, “no sleep. Not sleepy. I wanna play.”

“But we have to go to bed now,” Elrohir said. “See, look outside!” He pointed at the window, “The Sun has gone away. He’s gone to bed. Don’t you want to go to bed like the Sun?”

“No!” Estel shouted, his lower lip poking out beneath him. He looked at Elrohir mutinously. “Wanna play!”

“Come now, tithen gwador,” Elrohir lifted the boy up and carried him to his bed. “Let’s get you under the covers, then you’ll want to sleep.”

“NO!” screamed Estel. His eyes filled with tears. “No sleep!”

“Yes, sleep,” Elrohir replied, a note of pleading in his voice, “Look! If you shut your eyes,” he demonstrated by closing his own eyes tight, “and keep them shut, the next time you open them the Sun will be back,” he peeked through his closed eyes and found with relief that Estel had done as he did. He kissed Estel goodnight and made to leave the bedroom. But just as he reached the door, Estel began to cry.

Elrohir waited outside the bedroom, hoping that Estel’s tears would subside, but the child’s cries soon elevated to shrieks. He rushed back into the bedroom, where Estel sat sobbing. He picked up the child and walked back and forth, whispering soothingly in his ear.

“Shh…shh…” he said softly, “posto si, tithen pen…”

But Estel was inconsolable. He continued to cry, screaming that he didn’t want to go to sleep. The peredhel sighed, looking up at the ceiling. By the Valar, what else is there to do to put this child to bed?

“Have you tried just setting him down?” a voice asked softly over Estel’s shrieks. Elrohir turned to see Gilraen standing in the doorway, her face an expression of sympathetic amusement.

“Lady Gilraen,” Elrohir turned towards her, attempting to hide his embarrassment at being found unable to put a two-year-old child to bed. “You should be resting.”

“How can I, when my son’s cries can be heard through half of Imladris?” she replied, eyebrows raised. Her mouth softened into a smile, and she took Estel from Elrohir’s arms. “Shh…all right, Estel,” she murmured, “your naneth is here, it’s all right. We’re going to go to sleep now, mmm?” She turned her son so that he faced Elrohir. “Say goodnight to Elrohir.”

But Estel was still crying as Gilraen lay him down on the bed. She went out of the room and motioned Elrohir to follow her. He walked out behind her, but turned worriedly back towards the other room. “My lady, Estel is still…”

“Wait,” she said softly, patiently. “Just wait.”

They sat in the room for what seemed to Elrohir an eternity, listening to the child’s sobs. But after what were only a few minutes, they heard his cries soften, and soon all they heard was the heavy breathing of deep sleep. Gilraen sighed with a tired smile, and walked out onto the balcony outside the room. Elrohir followed her, welcoming the cool spring breeze. Gilraen turned to him with a smile.

“Sometimes you just need to let them cry,” she said, “children, that is. Let them work through their tantrums in their own way. It can never go on forever, and it often won’t last any longer than a few minutes. Especially if he was tired, which I can imagine he was after spending the evening playing with you.”

I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Elrohir thought, but he kept his opinion to himself. Instead, he laid a hand on his companion’s shoulder.

“I apologize, Gilraen,” he said, “I had hoped to give you a proper rest tonight.”

“There is no need apologize, Elrohir, truly,” she replied, “I’m grateful that you offered to help. And you handled him without me for almost the entire night, up until those last minutes.”

“Elladan and I are not accustomed to dealing with children,” Elrohir sighed, “and I’m afraid it shows.”

“Nonsense,” she said, “You are wonderful with my son; both of you are. I couldn’t ask for anyone more patient and loving. Besides, everyone runs into trouble come bedtime. Even mothers.”

She sighed. “I must say, I’d hoped by now he would go to sleep more easily. I know all children are like this at this age—my own mother would tell me time and again how much of a terror I was,” she said with a rueful smile, “But I cannot help but fear…”

She fell silent, but Elrohir assumed that she was thinking of the nightmares Estel had suffered from in the first few days after the two had come to Rivendell. Nightmares that Elrohir guessed still plagued Gilraen.

“I do not think this is related to bad dreams, Gilraen,” he said comfortingly, “It is only his age—and his temperament, I think,” he smiled. “He’s a stubborn one. All he wanted to do was keep building with his blocks and run around.”

“That should serve him well in the future. Any leader of the Dúnedain needs to be stubborn to a fault…” she tried to smile, but her face crumpled as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me,” she said, “I can’t help but fear for him whenever I look to the future. For us all. I sometimes wonder…” she stared out into the darkness.

“Now is not the time to think of the future, my lady,” he told her gently, “Now is the time to focus on the present, and the small victories. We got this little one in bed, didn’t we?” he gestured to the sleeping Estel. “That should be enough for tonight. And if it is in my place to say it,” he gave her a sidelong glance, “it might do you some good to join him.”

She smiled, a real smile this time. “Yes, Ada,” she said teasingly, “I think it will be slightly easier for me to go to sleep than for Estel.” She turned serious again as she looked up at Elrohir “Thank you,” she said.

“No thanks are needed, Gilraen,” he said with a smile, “It is enough for me to know that you are at peace,” As much as you can be, he added silently to himself. He knew as well as anyone the burdens this woman carried. If he could have alleviated them for even one night, it would have been enough.

He bid her good night and turned to go indoors. As he passed Estel’s bed, he paused, gently brushing aside a lock of hair that had fallen over the sleeping boy’s face.

“Sleep well, tithen gwador,” he whispered softly, “There will be time enough for building in the years to come.”

A/N: Just a note on the Elvish...
tithen gwador: little brother
posto si, tithen pen: rest now, little one
naneth: mother
ada: daddy

Thanks again to Calenlass Greenleaf for the beta and translations =).