I: Rainy Days and Orithiliath

Third Age 2955:

Elrond was stuffing the last of the books he wished to take with him into the carrysack when Glorfindel entered the library. The golden-haired elf gave no greeting but went to stand on the balcony glaring at the rain falling in sheets. The only thing to show that it was morning and not still night was that the sky was becoming a brighter shade of blue-grey as the sun rose somewhere above the Misty Mountains, their peaks lost in the rain and fog.

"You know," Glorfindel finally said in a disgusted tone, "we never had weather like this in Valinor."

Elrond merely smiled as he tightened the straps on the carrysack, refusing to be baited. "Then, are you not glad you left, mellon nîn?" he asked in a mild tone.

Glorfindel turned around to face the Lord of Imladris, the braids of his hair swinging, his eyes widening at the gentle rebuke, and then started laughing. "Indeed, yes," he said, "very glad," and rolled his eyes to give the lie to that statement.

Elrond chuckled. "Honestly, Glorfindel, one would think you’ve never been wet before."

Moving back into the library, Glorfindel grimaced. "Of course I’ve been wet before, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy the prospect." Then, putting on a virtuous air, he continued, "I’ve had my morning bath already, thank you very much, and I don’t need another. My body prefers being warm and dry."

At this Elrond laughed out loud, handing the carrysack to Glorfindel. "I am told that that is a common complaint among the old and infirm."

"What! Old? I’m not old!" Glorfindel protested in shocked indignation.

"Well, you are much older than I am, and you don’t hear me complaining," Elrond retorted.

"Hmph. Remind me again why I agreed to this orc-brained scheme of yours?"

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "‘Orc-brained scheme of mine?’ You’re the one who said we should wait until the autumn to travel with Estel to the Woodland Realm. As I recall you said, and I quote, ‘Autumn is the perfect time to travel’."

"What I said was, Ivanneth is the perfect time to travel," Glorfindel glowered at his friend. "This is the first of Hithui. As it is, it’ll be winter before we arrive on the borders of Mirkwood, if we’re lucky. So explain to me, O wise one, why you chose to wait until now to travel rather than earlier when the days were still warm and the nights gentle." Glorfindel’s sarcastic tone bordered on the insolent, though the golden-haired elf knew he had not yet crossed whatever invisible line of propriety he had established between himself and Elrond, though it was very close.

Elrond continued smiling, but his eyes glittered with something dangerous. "The curious thing about being the Lord of Imladris, mellon iaur nîn, is that you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone," he replied in an even tone.

Glorfindel blinked in surprise at the unexpected rebuke and there was a brief moment of tension between the two elves that was broken by someone entering the library.

"Fair day, Adar, Glorfindel."

Estel, not quite twenty-five, entered with a smile as he made his way to the balcony Glorfindel had recently vacated, breathing deeply and evidently taking delight in the wet piney smell of the morning air. Then, turning around, he threw his arms wide and exclaimed, "Isn’t it a glorious day? We sorely needed this rain after the dry summer we’ve had. Are you two ready to go, yet?"

The two elf-lords looked at each other and started laughing. Estel, looking on with bemusement, asked, "Something I said?" which only made the two elves laugh even harder.

It took a couple of minutes for the two to get themselves under control, but when Elrond heard Glorfindel mutter softly so Estel could not hear, "Ai, nésë!", it only set the Master of Imladris laughing again.

"Adar?" Estel’s expression was one of alarm as his eyes flitted between the two elves, wondering what was going on.

Glorfindel motioned for the young Man to come nearer, handing him Elrond’s carrysack. "Here, Estel, take your adar’s books and go on to the stables. We’ll be along shortly."

Clearly unsure what was happening, Estel hesitated, but when Elrond nodded and indicated that he should leave, the young Man shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t about to try to figure out the odd behavior of his elders, and left. Elrond smiled fondly at the retreating figure of his foster son.

Deciding to take his own leave, Glorfindel declared, "I’ll just go find my cloak and meet you at the stables."

"Fine. I have to give Erestor some last-minute instructions before I join you."

The golden-haired elf nodded before exiting, leaving Elrond alone again.

****

Estel finished securing his adar’s carrysack with the precious books to the rest of the supplies on the pack horse, enjoying the redolent smell of horse and hay and drying leather that permeated the stables. The rain was beginning to let up outside but it would still be a wet ride, at least for a few hours. Estel didn’t care. He was too excited about the trip to the Woodland Realm, his first trip to Thranduil’s kingdom in Mirkwood. In fact, it was his first trip ever across the Misty Mountains, for all his travels to date had been to the west among his own people.

He stopped at the thought. His own people. It was hard to believe that only a few years ago he believed himself to be Estel Elrondion, younger brother of Elrohir and Elladan, when in fact he was the son of a man he did not remember. It was still hard to think of himself as Aragorn son of Arathorn and he sometimes felt guilty calling Lord Elrond "adar", when clearly he was not, but Estel could not seem to stop himself and Elrond did not seem to mind.

"Aragorn," he said the name out loud, but softly, as if trying to see if the name fit him at all. "I am Aragorn, not Estel."

"And why can you not be both, muindor dithen?"

Estel looked up to see Elrohir enter the stables, his twin right behind him. Both were smiling.

"How can I be both, Elrohir? I’m not really your brother, you know," the young Man said with a tinge of regret.

"Are you ashamed of being Estel?" Elladan asked, his eyes narrowing.

Estel’s eyes widened. "Of course not! It’s just…I mean…."

"Stop teasing him, Elladan. Can’t you see you’re just confusing the boy more than he already is?" Elrohir glowered at his twin.

"I’m not a boy!" Estel practically shouted, and then wished the earth would just open up and swallow him whole when he saw the surprised expressions on the twins’ faces. Lately all he seemed to do was yell whenever he was around his brothers. His mother said he was going through a phase, but he wasn’t sure what she meant by that. He sighed and looked away.

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell," he mumbled contritely, taking a brush to his horse’s mane, a dappled grey gelding named Mithfaron, who attempted to chew on Estel’s hair, as if he wanted to offer the young Man some comfort.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Elladan standing next to him looking chagrined. "No, it’s I who should apologize, Estel. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know learning about your true heritage has been difficult for you to assimilate, and, given time, we’re sure you’ll adjust, but you’ll always be our little brother, whoever else you may be."

Estel smiled shyly and nodded, glad that his brothers were not angry at him.

"But to go back to my original question," Elrohir said gently. "What makes you think you can’t be both Aragorn and Estel?"

Estel didn’t look at his brother, but stared down at his feet, as if thinking, then he shrugged. "When I’m with the Rangers, I’m Lord Aragorn son of Arathorn, their Chieftain, but when I’m here, I’m just Estel and everyone’s favorite pet, from Glorfindel on down. I just don’t think I can be both."

The twins looked over Estel’s still bowed head, identical eyebrows raised. Elladan clapped Estel on the shoulder and laughed. "I think you mean ‘everyone’s favorite pest’."

Estel looked up at that and saw his brothers smirking and a reluctant grin forced itself on his face and then before he realized it he was laughing and the twins joined him.

"Well, I’m glad to see we’re all in such a happy mood on this miserable day."

The three turned to see Glorfindel stepping into the stables, shaking the rain from his cloak and looking very sour.

"What’s the matter Glorfindel? Don’t like getting wet?" smirked Elrohir.

"No, I don’t," the golden-haired elf said shortly.

"This from the ellon who purposely led us on a five league run that took us under every waterfall around Imladris," retorted Elladan.

"That was different," Glorfindel responded with exaggerated dignity.

"Oh, how’s that?" Elrohir asked, his eyes narrowing.

"The curious thing about being the Captain of Imladris’ Guards is that you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone."

"Now where have I heard that line before?" Elrond said dryly, as he entered the stables in time to hear Glorfindel’s last words.

Glorfindel had the grace to blush and Estel and the twins looked at each other in bemusement. Estel finally shrugged and said, "Is it time to leave, Adar?"

The others smiled at the excitement in the younger Man’s voice, which he tried — and failed — to hide, not wanting to sound like an over-eager youngster.

"Yes, it’s time to leave. Did you say good-bye to your naneth?"

Estel rolled his eyes. "Adar, please!"

Elrond just looked at his foster son and Estel began to blush. "Sorry. We said our good-byes last night. Naneth said she loves me but not enough to waken before dawn to see me off."

Elrond merely nodded. "Your naneth is very wise."

The other elves chuckled at that.

Elladan turned to his father as Elrond was mounting his horse, a chestnut warhorse named Tologyll, and said, "I wish you would reconsider taking a complement of guards with you, Adar. I feel uneasy thinking of the three of you alone in the Wilds."

Glorfindel mounted his white horse, Asfaloth, and answered before Elrond could respond, "Your adar feels that it’s unnecessary. I don’t happen to agree, which is why I’m going."

Elrond looked down at his sons. "This is supposed to be a secret journey to Thranduil’s Realm. The fewer who accompany Estel and myself, the less chance of us being noticed."

"At least let us escort you through the Cirith Forn en Andrath," pleaded Elrohir. "That will be the most dangerous part of the trip."

Elladan nodded, but Elrond shook his head. "No. I foresee that the High Pass may in fact be the safest part of the entire trip and I would not have you leaving Imladris undefended. Erestor will need you both before we return."

Estel gasped at these words, while the others looked disturbed, for they sounded ominous.

"Adar, what—" Elrohir began, but Elrond cut him off with a shake of his head.

"No, iôn nîn. I will say no more. Come, we have lingered long enough. Let us go."

With that, the Lord of Imladris led them out of the stables, his two sons walking on either side of him. As they came outside, Estel glanced about and saw that the fog was beginning to lift somewhat, but it still lay heavy in the lower valleys. Just as they neared the gate that would lead out to the bridge separating Imladris from the rest of the valley, he saw a figure standing there waiting for them. It was Erestor.

When Elrond reached his chief administrator, he stopped. Looking down, he smiled. "You’ll see that Imladris is still here when we return, won’t you, Erestor?"

"Of course, Elrond. I haven’t misplaced Imladris yet in all these millennia, I doubt I’ll be so careless as to do it this late in the day."

Elrond chuckled. "We’ll be back in early Summer. Look for us by Laer."

Erestor nodded. "Safe journey, my lords. And Estel" — here he took hold of the horse’s bridle, forcing Estel to stop — "mind yourself. Thranduil is not your adar and the Woodland Realm is not Imladris."

Estel stared at the old elf for a minute before nodding. "Thank you, Erestor. I’ll keep your words in mind."

Erestor nodded, releasing Estel’s horse, then stepped back to allow the party to pass through the gate. Elrohir and Elladan voiced their good-byes. Estel turned his head and waved, the twins waving back, then turned his gaze forward again. When he looked back one more time, though, Imladris was lost in the fog.

About an hour’s ride from Imladris the fog began to lift. The rain had stopped shortly after they had left the hidden valley, but the trees still dripped and the sun was hiding behind thick dark clouds that slammed into the high peaks of the mountain range before them. Elrond insisted on taking the lead while Glorfindel had taken the even more dangerous rear; Estel was safely in the middle with the packhorse, a position that did not please him, for he felt that the two elves were being overprotective. On further reflection, though, he knew that if there was an attack from goblins or wargs, Elrond and Glorfindel were in a better position to do something about it than he, and he did not know the road to the High Pass at all. Still, it bruised his ego to be thought too young to take care of himself.

They were crossing a small rivulet that came skipping down from the foothills when Glorfindel moved up to speak with Estel, interrupting the young Man’s thoughts.

"Estel, I want to thank you for this morning," Glorfindel said quietly without preamble.

Estel looked up at the Captain of Imladris with a puzzled look. "Thank me for what, Glorfindel? I didn’t do anything."

Glorfindel smiled. "Oh yes, you did, when you walked into the library."

Estel’s gaze went blank as he tried to remember if he had done anything special for which Glorfindel would thank him, but he was at a loss. He remembered how eager he was to be on the road and chafing at his elders for taking their sweet time about it, but that was about all. He shrugged and smiled shyly. "Sorry, Glorfindel, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just glad we were finally leaving, is all."

"Exactly." And without another word, the elf allowed his horse to slow enough to take up the rear position again, leaving the young mortal feeling bemused.

Up ahead, Elrond smiled to himself, having heard the exchange. It was probably the first time he had ever heard the golden-haired Captain apologize to anyone, much less to a mortal. He decided not to enlighten his son as to Glorfindel’s remarks; that would be between the two of them.

For the rest of the morning they followed one of the paths out of Imladris leading northeast towards the High Pass, twenty-five leagues away as the eagle flies. In the rough terrain they would only be able to do about four or five leagues a day, and perhaps even less if the weather worsened or unforeseen obstacles barred their way. Which meant that it would be sometime on the seventh day from Imladris at the very earliest before they reached the beginning of the High Pass and Elrond had already decided they would not attempt to climb the pass itself until they had a full day to do so, for otherwise they would likely be caught in the cleft of the pass at sunset. Elrond knew that at this time of year and at that height the temperatures were brutal even during the day; at night they could prove to be deadly, especially for mortals. Even he and Glorfindel would feel it.

So it was that the three travelers wended their way through thick pine forests, their road climbing slowly but surely towards the mountains and the High Pass that would take them across the Misty Mountains and into the Wilderland. Estel spent much of his time looking around in curiosity, for he had never come this way before. Glorfindel and Elrond would occasionally point out certain features of the land, Glorfindel quizzing Estel on such matters as possible places for goblin ambushes or identifying the spoors of various animals that lived in these woods, while Elrond was more likely to point out various mosses and plants and explain their possible medicinal uses. If it weren’t for the fact that Estel thrived on such knowledge and enjoyed learning from his adar and Glorfindel, he might have resented the "schooling" he was getting. As it was, he soaked up the knowledge the two elves imparted to him like a sponge, filing the information away for the future.

Not that the time was spent only in lessons. Both Glorfindel and Elrond were fonts of wisdom and Estel was not averse to asking them about subjects ranging from history to geography to politics, especially that of Rhovanion and the Woodland Realm, places he had only heard about but had never seen.

"What did Erestor mean when he told me that Thranduil was not Adar, Glorfindel?" Estel asked when they stopped at noon to eat some bread and cheese and rest the horses.

Glorfindel glanced at Elrond, his expression unreadable. "Do you want to tell him?"

Elrond frowned, then shook his head. "The question was directed at you."

Glorfindel scowled at the Master of Imladris then turned to Estel. "Tell me what you know of Thranduil."

Now it was Estel’s turn to frown, though in concentration, as he attempted to dredge up half-forgotten history lessons that had seemed so boring to a ten-year-old boy more interested in fighting dragons and rescuing fair maidens, or at least his mother, from certain death.

"He is the son of Oropher, who was king of the Woodland Realm before him. Oropher died before the gates of Barad-dûr. He led a charge that left most of his people dead at Dagorlad." He looked up at Elrond and saw his adar’s nod of approval.

"What else?" Glorfindel asked.

"Hmm. That means he’s been ruling Mirkwood for about three thousand years."

"What kind of elf is he?" Elrond asked.

Estel looked at his adar in confusion for a moment, not sure what Elrond had meant, then his face cleared. "He’s a Sinda, isn’t he?"

Glorfindel and Elrond both nodded. Glorfindel said, "Yes, and he rules a kingdom of Sindar and Silvan."

"Like the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel in Lothlórien," Estel volunteered, pleased that he remembered that much.

Elrond smiled and nodded. "Much like, but not quite, for Galadriel is neither Sinda nor Silvan, but Noldo, and that makes a difference."

"How, Adar? I’m afraid the only elves I really know are of those of Imladris. Why does being a Noldo make a difference?"

The two elves glanced at each other, some kind of communication passing silently between them. Estel was too used to that sort of thing happening among elves to be upset about it and merely sat there waiting. Finally, Elrond looked at his foster son and said, "Perhaps, when you have seen Thranduil and his court for yourself you will be able to answer your own question, iôn nîn. In the meantime, it’s best we be getting on."

The rest of the first day passed without incident and they made good time, stopping about an hour before sunset to set up camp in the lee of a small hillock that afforded them and their horses some protection from the wind. A small stream danced merrily nearby. Estel had managed to bring down a brace of coneys, much to his delight, and was busy skinning them for a stew as Glorfindel tended the fire. Elrond had gone to look for some plants that he wished to add to his medicinal stores.

While he and Glorfindel sat beside the fire tending the stew, Estel asked, "Does Thranduil have any children?"

"A son, named Legolas. "Why do you ask?"

Estel shrugged as he busied himself with stirring the stew and adding a few more dried herbs after taste-testing it. "No reason. Just wondered, is all."

Glorfindel wasn’t fooled. He smiled knowingly. "Still looking for a playmate your own age?"

Estel glanced at the elf sharply, his face red with embarrassment and he laughed self-consciously. "No, not a playmate," he replied, ducking his head.

Glorfindel watched the young Man with paternal concern. He remembered vividly a five-year-old Estel, innocently and in all seriousness asking Gilraen a simple question one day during the noon meal....

****

"Nana?" Estel said in a voice that carried throughout the hall as he put his fork down and stared solemnly at his mother seated on his right. His ada was seated on his left and his two brothers were seated on the other side of ada. Glorfindel, as a member of the family, was seated on Gilraen’s right. "When are you and Ada going to give me a brother?"

You could have heard a pin drop.

That is, after everyone in the hall had stopped choking on their barely swallowed food and drink.

It was obvious to Glorfindel, looking at the boy’s solemn expression, that this was something he had been thinking about for some time, though it escaped the elf what possessed Estel to ask that question now. No doubt the logic of it was known only to the one sitting there swinging his fat little legs as he patiently awaited an answer. Stealing a quick glance around the hall he noticed that most of the elves were shamelessly staring at the head table, not daring to move for fear of breaking the spell that this latest addition to the household had managed to cast. Some of them — Glorfindel noted that these were parents themselves — were doing their best not to laugh out loud. He saw that Gilraen had gone first white with mortification and then red with embarrassment and even Elrond looked a bit nonplused as he stared down at his foster son as if he had never seen a human child before. Elrohir and Elladan, on the other hand, were grinning broadly, wicked gleams in both their eyes, and Glorfindel hoped the twins would not do or say anything to anger their adar or cause further embarrassment to Gilraen. He glared down the table at them and shook his head in warning when Elladan noticed him, but the younger elf merely smiled in a smug way that made Glorfindel cringe inwardly with a silent promise to himself to make sure he assigned them both patrol duties that would put the fear of the Valar into them if they chose to ignore his warning.

In the meantime, Gilraen was struggling to master her emotions, refusing to look up and so it was Elrond who responded to the boy’s question first.

"You already have two brothers, Estel. Why do you want another?" the Lord of Imladris said casually, returning to his salad.

Good, Glorfindel thought, keep it light and casual. Hopefully others will take their cue from Elrond.

"But Ada," Estel protested. "Elrohir and Elladan are always playing with Glorfindel and they never have time to play with me. I want my own brother to play with."

Now it was Glorfindel who was nonplused and he refused to look at Elrond or anyone else for fear he would start laughing out loud, thereby spoiling the mood. Estel was still too young to fully grasp that what his older brothers and Glorfindel were doing was not "playing", but obviously Estel had decided Glorfindel was the culprit in "stealing" his brothers away from him. He was saddened by the child’s resentment, but it was not unexpected. Arwen had had the same jealous feelings towards Glorfindel when she was not much older than Estel. It seemed to be a typical reaction of children with older siblings.

Gilraen entered the conversation. "Elrohir and Elladan are not playing when they are with Glorfindel, Estel, they are adults and they are working. We’ve talked about this, remember?"

But Estel was not convinced, Glorfindel could see. Older brothers were not adults, they were brothers, and their sole purpose in life was to entertain their younger siblings. Glorfindel had seen the same phenomenon played out in other families in Imladris and elsewhere.

"Your nana is correct, iôn nîn," added Elrond, looking down at the child with a frown. "You must not expect your brothers to be at your beck and call at all times. They are adults and have their own lives." He paused and his expression softened at the sadness and frustration in the child’s face. "As for your nana and I getting you another brother" — here Elrond glanced briefly and sympathetically at Gilraen before returning his attention to Estel — "you will understand when you are older why that cannot be."

"It’s not fair! Everyone gets to have a brother but me!" Estel cried, tears beginning to form as he leapt off his chair and ran towards the kitchen.

"Estel, come back here this instant!" Gilraen shouted, suddenly angry in her embarrassment at her son’s behavior, but Estel refused to listen and he was soon out of sight. Glorfindel wondered briefly if he should go after the lad, but one glance from Elrond convinced him to stay where he was.

Gilraen was stammering an apology. "I’m sorry my lord. I don’t know what came over him."

Elrond raised a hand. "No apology is necessary, my lady. The boy is bright and inquisitive and he is becoming old enough to be aware of many things. He is bound to have questions, questions for which we can give him no adequate answers, given the circumstances."

Gilraen kept her head down, nodding at Elrond’s words, then, without looking up, she said softly, "If you will excuse me, my lord, I think I will retire."

"Of course, my dear," Elrond said solicitously.

They all rose when Gilraen stood up and after a brief curtsey she made her way out the main doors of the hall. As she left they could all hear her muttering. Only the superior hearing of the elves allowed any of them to hear her words.

"Damn you, Arathorn, why did you have to go and get yourself killed when your son needs you? When I need you? How could you have been so selfish?"

Glorfindel noticed the stricken looks on the twins’ faces, for they had been there when Arathorn had been struck down with an orc-arrow in his eye and felt responsible for his death. Glorfindel sighed, his appetite gone. Elrond, on the other hand, went back to eating his salad....

****

"What’s so funny?"

Glorfindel looked up at the young Man sitting next to him, suddenly realizing he’d been chuckling over the memory. His smile was genuinely warm. "Just remembering a five-year-old wondering why he didn’t have any playmates his own age."

"Oh. I’d forgotten about that," Estel said with an embarrassed laugh. "I was just a child and didn’t understand —"

"No need to explain it to me, Estel. I was there, remember? But you still seem to be looking for ‘playmates’ aren’t you?"

"No, not ‘playmates’ — companions, friends."

"You have friends among the Rangers, do you not?"

Estel shook his head. "Companions, maybe, but not friends. As young as I am, I’m their Chieftain and that’s how they treat me. Even the ones who are my age treat me with the same kind of respect they reserve for their fathers and captains." He stirred the stew, his expression troubled.

"What about Halbarad?"

"Halbarad and I are close, it is true, and he’s almost like a brother to me, but at the end of the day I am still his Chieftain. It would be nice if I had someone my age with whom I could just be friends without also having to be their leader."

Glorfindel laid a sympathetic hand on Estel’s shoulder, suddenly understanding the lad’s question concerning Legolas. "I wish you did as well, pen neth nîn, but I’m afraid you’re out of luck with Legolas. He’s no longer an elfling. In fact he must be at least...." Glorfindel paused, trying to remember just how old the son of Thranduil would be by now.

"Legolas is fourteen years past his first millennium."

The two by the fire looked up to see Elrond coming towards them, carrying various plants and mosses carefully wrapped in an oiled cloth. "I sent him a Begetting Day gift when he turned a thousand," Elrond replied to Glorfindel’s unspoken question.

Glorfindel nodded. The coming-of-age ceremony among elves was always an important celebration, but reaching one’s first millennium was also noted among them and Elrond sending Legolas a Begetting Day gift at the time would not have been considered unusual.

Elrond sat down next to Estel, a look of concern on his face. "What is it, iôn nîn? What has you upset?"

Estel looked at Elrond in surprise. "Nothing, Adar. I’m not upset. Glorfindel and I were just talking about things and I wondered if Thranduil had any children. That’s all. Oh, look, I think the stew is ready." With that, he stood up to serve the stew, leaving Elrond and Glorfindel to stare at one another. Glorfindel smiled at Elrond’s unspoken question but did not say anything.

Later, however, after Estel had completed the first watch and Elrond had taken the second, Glorfindel, who was not sleeping, came to where Elrond was sitting. They both sat in silence, listening to the night sounds of the forest around them, waiting for Estel to fall asleep before speaking.

"So, do you want to tell me what Estel would not?" Elrond finally said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

For a few moments Glorfindel did not speak, marshalling his thoughts. "Do you remember when Estel was about five asking when you and Gilraen would get around to giving him a brother?"

Elrond nodded with a smile. "Yes. Gilraen was quite embarrassed by the whole thing, and I have to admit I was a bit taken aback myself. Is that what this is all about? He’s still pining after a playmate of his own?"

Glorfindel snorted. "You’ve fallen into the same trap I did earlier. No, Estel isn’t an elfling looking for a playmate, he’s a young Man looking for a friend, a gwador, if you want to be more precise."

"Valar!"

"Exactly."

The two elves sat in silence again, each with his own thoughts. Elrond glanced over to where Estel now slept, one hand over his eyes, and, Elrond noted with approval, the other lightly touching the sword lying next to him. Even in sleep the lad was ever vigilant against the possibility of attack.

He sighed, recognizing where he had made his mistake. At nearly twenty-five, Estel — no, Aragorn, he corrected himself mentally — was an adult, equivalent to an elf who has reached fifty. He was no longer a child, as hard as it was to admit it. But, he thought sardonically, it had been just as hard to admit that Elrohir and Elladan were adults at fifty and, even when they were twice that, he had still thought of them as elflings. He imagined every parent felt the same way about their children, and Elrond considered Estel to be as much his child as the twins or Arwen.

"So what do we do about it?" He asked quietly.

Glorfindel shook his head. "Nothing. This is something Estel has to work out for himself. The best we can do is be there when he needs our love and support the most." He turned to face Elrond, his eyes full of amused compassion. "You can no more live Estel’s life than you can live your sons’ or Arwen’s, however much you might wish to."

Elrond grimaced at the gentle reminder from his friend. "I tried that once. I won’t make the same mistake twice."

Glorfindel nodded. "Good. See that you don’t."

Elrond glared at the elf, then said, "Unless you want to sit through two watches, you should rest, Captain."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows at that, but merely nodded. "You are correct, my lord. I will leave you to your watch." With that he stood up and carefully made his way back to his bedroll, but not before stopping next to where Estel lay and gently placing a hand on the young Man’s forehead. Estel did not waken, but sighed, loosening his hold on his sword as he rolled over onto his side, slipping deeper into dreamless sleep.

****

Orithiliath: orithil (Monday) + -(i)ath: class plural. The first day of Hithui (November) always begins on a Monday.

Mellon nîn: My friend.

Ivanneth: September.

Mellon iaur nîn: My old friend.

Adar/ada: Father/daddy.

Ai, nésë!: (Quenya) 'Ah, youth!'

Muindor dithen: Little brother.

Mithfaron: Grey Hunter [from mith "grey" + faron "hunter].

Ellon: Male elf.

Naneth/nana: mother/mama.

Tologyll: Trusty Bearer [from tolog "trusty, stalwart" + the lenited form of cyll "bearer"].

Cirith Forn en Andrath: the High Pass in the Misty Mountains which connects Imladris to the Vale of Anduin. Literally, it means "the North Pass of the Long Climb"; see UT/"The Disaster of the Gladden Fields".

Iôn nîn: My son.

Laer: Summer, which began, according to the Imladris Calendar, on 25 Lothron (May).

Pen neth nîn: My young one, youngling.

Gwador: Sworn brother; boon companion.