Apostate’s Ruse

Chapter Two: Confused Without a Doubt

Estel flattened himself against the walls, shrouded in the darkness. It was early morning, and he was sure no-one was up yet. After two days of pestering his father for the letter, he had had enough. "If Ada’s not going to give it to me, I suppose I will have to get it myself," he thought, as he descended the stairs with the greatest caution, his sweaty hands tightly grasping the banister. Estel’s eyes darted around him; he was so nervous he hardly dared to breathe for fear of being heard. Somehow, Estel reached his father’s study. He stood there for a moment, his confidence wavering. As soon as he opened the door, there would be no turning back for him. With great trepidation his fingers sought the knob. "It’s now or never," he told himself, biting his lip. Grasping the handle, he turned it as slowly as he could, all the while straining his ears for any audible noises. He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

The room was quite dark; none of the candles were lit and any natural light had been kept out by the heavy velvet curtains that obscured the windows. Estel peered anxiously around the room until he found Elrond’s desk. His feet barely made any sound as he walked over to it. Ever so often he would turn back to stare at the door, as if expecting someone to open it. Thankfully, no-one did. He stared at the desk, which was, strangely enough, in disorder. Letters, documents, scrolls, and books were strewn about. Estel sighed, knowing his task would be a difficult one. He quickly lit a candle, and waited until his eyes accustomed to the light. Holding it away from the papers with one hand, he used the other hand to sort through the items. He quickly found what he wanted, and, after stuffing the letter into a pocket, tried to put everything back as he remembered.

As he hastily went through them, he was becoming confused. Why was Elrond keeping these things on his desk? Most of the letters, scrolls, and documents dated back to the time of the Last Alliance, and were written in an ancient script that Estel vaguely remembered was an old form of Elvish. Curiosity piqued, he opened one of the dusty books, fighting the urge to sneeze as a musty smell drifted to his nose. Much to his dismay, the language was in Adûnaic, of which he had only learned a few phrases. Estel tried to read the title, but he could only make out the last four letters of the first word, “khôr”, which he knew meant “lord.”

He opened another book, even though his mind was screaming at him to leave before anyone found him. This one was in Quenya, but it seemed to have suffered greatly; the cover and some of the pages had been partially burned. The boy squinted at the spidery, thin Tengwar. "Why must some people write in such small letters?" he thought in exasperation as he held the book close to his face. "Someone could go blind from reading this!" One word caught his attention: palantír. This was after all, forbidden history. Elrond and Erestor had avoided telling him anything of the palantíri - or about the Rings of Power, for that matter. Estel had always wondered why. Now, as he stared at the pages, he thought, just one more look. He bent closer, his lips moving as he read silently to himself. “…making of…stone-seeing-no, Seeing Stones, was…creation of…” Estel decided to give up after a few lines. He carefully closed it, and reached for a scroll.

The words “I Ringorn Min Pennas” made him stop short. He looked at the bottom, and saw in his father’s handwriting “This is a copy of the original that is kept in the archives of Minas Tirith, copied by the High King himself.” He began to read, but sounds at the door made him freeze. He frantically dropped the scroll onto the table and blew out the candle, desperately seeking for a place to hide.

It was too late; the door opened to reveal Elrond. Estel shrank back against the desk, his face whitening. He was going to be in a lot of trouble…

“What are you doing in here?” the Elf-lord asked, stepping forward with a candle in his hand. The light made his face look menacing.

The boy racked his mind for an answer. “I-I, um, forgot something here,” he finally said, knowing it was a lame excuse.

“Did I not tell you to stay out of my study?”

Estel wordlessly nodded, his grip tightening on the desk.

Elrond walked forward and grasped Estel by the shoulder. “To your room, Estel. And do not go out unless I give you permission.” He pushed the boy forward. “We will talk later today.” He emphasized the word “later.”

Estel bowed his head, mumbled, “Yes, Ada,” and practically fled from the room. He darted up the stairs and into his quarters, locking the door behind him. Leaning against the wall, he sighed.

If only he hadn’t stopped to look at those papers! But the little bit of history he had managed to read was worth it, he supposed. He stuck his hand into to pocket, and drew out the letter. As he turned it over in his hands, he noticed that it had already been opened. He scowled. “Ada…did you have to?” he said aloud as he pulled the sheet of paper out and began eagerly reading.

When he at last finished, he leaned back in his chair, somewhat disappointed. Elladan and Elrohir wrote that they would not be home until late summer, meaning four tedious months. The boy sighed, wishing they would not stay so long. As he stood up and began to pace, he suddenly realized that Elrond did not know he had taken the letter. Slapping himself on his forehead, he groaned. “Great,” he mumbled angrily. “Now I have to find a way to put the letter back before he finds out.”

He did not look forward to that task.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Sometime in the afternoon, someone knocked on the door of his room. Estel opened it, somewhat nervous. Elrond motioned for him to sit. He did so, absently fingering the edge of his shirtsleeve and staring down at the carpet, as if fascinated by what he saw there.

“Look at me.” Estel’s head jerked up. Elrond leaned forward. “Tell me, why did you go in my study?”

“I was looking for something,” he mumbled, digging his fingernails into his palms.

“Looking for what?”

“Information that I needed.”

Elrond shook his head. “You deliberately disobeyed me.”

“S-sorry,” Estel muttered, wishing that he had never gone in the first place.

“You also tampered with my books.”

“I was looking for my letter!” Estel tried to defend himself, then realized he had given everything away.

The Elf replied in weary tones, “I thought told you not to.”

“Then why did you not give it to me in the first place? Would that not have made everything easi-”

“Silence!”

The boy jerked in shock. Elrond rarely showed his anger, and he had certainly never shouted at his children.

“Do not speak unless I tell you to.” The Elf-lord gave him a stern look. “And stop lying. Why did you look in my things?”

Estel’s throat felt dry. If he told the truth, he had a feeling things were going to get worse. But neither could-

“I am waiting for an answer, Estel.”

“Because they looked interesting," the boy replied, after a while. “I have never seen them before.”

“But you forgot that you were not, and still not, allowed to go into my study,” Elrond interjected. Estel looked down, guilt eating away at him. A firm hand jerked his chin back up. “Did I give you permission to look away?”

The angry look in his father’s eyes nearly made his heart stop. “N-n-no, my Lord," he stuttered, after gathering his courage. My Lord. When had he ever called his father “my Lord”? As far as Estel could remember, not once.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Elrond released his chin and stood up. The teenager hesitantly glanced at him, and also stood up.

Elrond turned away. “You will not be allowed outside for two weeks. You can stay inside and help the servants.”

Estel could only nod, relieved that Elrond was no longer glaring at him.

Just before Elrond closed the door, he said, “Do not ever go in my study, ever, again. Do you understand?” His voice was harsh and cold.

“Yes, Ada.”

The Elf-lord walked out of the room. Estel collapsed on his bed, feeling quite drained. “That was…unexpected," he murmured softly, still shaken by Elrond’s unexpected show of anger. He pulled the letter out once again, and stared morosely down at it. “What am I going to do with you?”

He stuffed it into a book that was on his desk. Maybe his father would not notice it was gone, but he doubted it. Estel grimaced. There really was no point in hiding it, but he was desperate to stay out of more trouble. He sighed, and prepared to endure two weeks of tedious work. "I hate helping the servants," he thought idly as he turned his dagger over and over in his hands. Ada probably knew that. He stabbed the dagger forcefully into his desk and yanked it back out. "But I wonder why he no longer trusts me."

TBC…

Translations:

Khôr - Adûnaic for “lord”

Palantír - Sindarin for Seeing Stone, literally, “One that sees from afar.”

I Ringorn Min Pennas - loosely means, “Account of the One Ring” in Sindarin.

I don't know how accurate my last translated phrase is--if anyone has anything better, let me know.