Chapter Six

Elrohir eased Tulus to a stop, and his horse waited motionless while Elrohir dismounted, as if aware of the burden he carried. Elrohir placed a hand to her neck, praising her for her compassion. "Well done, my friend," he murmured.

He heard Elladan call to one of the grooms to take Tulus and Acharn, usually a chore they handled themselves, but in this instance, more pressing matters were at hand. "See they are both rubbed down and fed," Elladan finished, and Elrohir smirked. Elladan was so much like their father in a perceived crisis, taking charge, issuing orders, but still concerned about the well being of those under his care.

Elrohir motioned to one of the gardeners tending a flower bed nearby. "Find the kennel master and send him to the kitchens quickly, please."

The woman was off like a doe fleeing from the hounds as he and Elladan made for the house and the heat and supplies they would need.

"Get some goat's milk in him, and I bet he will be just fine," Elladan commented.

Elrohir glanced down at the small burden still resting against his chest. "Does that mean you are volunteering to do the nursing?" Elrohir asked with a wicked smile. "You found him, after all."

"Yes, but look who carried him home," Elladan retorted, but he was also smiling.

Elrohir grinned back, knowing full well who would be tending the pup, and it would not be the kennel master or Elladan. At least, not if they were home for a time.

As they neared the house, Elrohir heard of sounds of grumbling following them. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Erestor not far behind, his eyes downcast, and a hand rubbing his…backside? Elrohir snorted and nudged his brother. "Looks like Erestor had a run in with 'the horse'."

Elladan snuck a peek then also snorted. "I thought he learned last time not to turn his back on that beast. It is not like him to be taken by surprise by anything." He paused and they strained to hear the councilor's words as he stormed closer.

"…just doing your duty, keep him smiling and the depression will stay at bay. But curse it all, I hate that horse!"

"Forget to watch your back, Councilor?" Elladan called over his shoulder, causing Elrohir to nearly choke with laughter. Oh, his brother always did like to court death!

"No," Erestor snapped coming up and glaring at them both. "I did not forget."

It was then Elrohir realized what his long ago tutor had been saying. He frowned. "What was that you were saying about doing your duty? Keep who smiling? And depression…" His eyes widened as he realized the implications. "Tell me no one died."

"No one died."

It was said deadpan, in Erestor's typical dry voice, but the usual expressionless face actual held a touch of an emotion Elrohir could not name. And that was not a good thing, since it was not just annoyance he was seeing.

Elrohir stared at Erestor as the councilor looked back, then glanced away. Also, untypical. Something was wrong.

"Why is Glorfindel depressed?" he asked, when it became clear Erestor would not explain. A tinge of worry had started creeping up his spine. He had already considered worst case scenarios at their being called home, but to see Erestor like this, going so far as to allow Brandlir to bite him? Yes, something was very wrong here.

"Because that…that twice-lived fool wallows in guilt even if something is an accident! He could not have known! He saved that boy's life! And yet he would waste away blaming himself for an attack he could not prevent!"

The explosion of anger from the usually stoic Councilor was both baffling and disconcerting. Elrohir blinked and glanced at his brother who was starting to get a look of dread upon his face.

"Erestor?" Elladan interrupted the livid lecture, his voice sharp and commanding. "Saved whoselife? What attack? What are you talking about?"

That seemed to get Erestor's attention for he blinked, then glanced from one to the other as if only just realizing who they were. "Thank Elbereth you two are here!" he suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lightening in a way that caused another curl of fear in Elrohir's belly. "Perhaps you can help talk some sense into everyone!"

"Erestor," Elrohir kept his voice softer, lower, using the tone that he knew would urge the councilor to actually listen. For some reason, speaking slowly and distinctly had that effect on the old elf. "We have been away, so we have no idea what has happened here." He drew the last word out and waited but still nothing. "Care to enlighten us?"

At that moment the pup chose to whimper, letting out a pathetic cry. Erestor's eyes dropped to the small creature harbored in Elrohir's tunic, then widened as he realized what it was. "A puppy?"

"Yes, a puppy," Elrohir confirmed in that same slow talk. "Four legs, cold nose, tail that wags…"

Erestor's gaze snapped back to Elrohir's face. "I know what a puppy is! I am just surprised to see one. None of our dogs has litters on the ground. Where did you find it?" And the look of anticipation, almost excitement on Erestor's face unnerved Elrohir.

"In the woods," Elladan answered, "to the north, not far from that meadow Glorfindel favors. He was the only one living. Something must have happened to the bitch. Why?"

Erestor stared at the pup as if it were a treasure, a smile even tilting up his lips. Elrohir glanced at his brother, receiving a shrug in return.

Perhaps Glorfindel has finally driven him crazy? Elladan bespoke his brother.

No, Elrohir answered. Something has happened.

 Erestor was nodding. "Marvelous," he murmured, then glanced over his shoulder as the kennel master ran up to them. Erestor motioned to the pup. "Helethion, see to that poor creature, but keep it away from the house."

"I will need warm milk from the kitchens, Master Erestor," Helethion stated, looking into the pup's mouth and eyes. "I keep some supplies there for this sort of situation."

Erestor nodded. "So long as you keep it out of sight of Elrond or Gilraen for now." Then he motioned to Elrohir and Elladan. "Come with me. We need to talk."

"But why does the puppy need to be kept out of sight?" Elrohir inquired as he transferred his burden to Helethion, who murmured softly to it.

Erestor was already walking away. "Because I think its mother attacked Estel and nearly killed him."

Those words shot a stab of freezing cold down Elrohir's spine. He exchanged one more look with his brother, then hurried after Erestor, finally understanding the councilor's rattled state of being.  

And if Glorfindel had been charged with Estel's safety, Elrohir thought, then it is no wonder Erestor let that horse take a bite out of his arse!

— o —

Elladan felt only shock as he and Elrohir listened to Erestor's grisly tale. They had not had much contact with Arathorn's son since escorting him and his mother to Imladris, but to hear that the child had been so severely injured was disturbing.

And Erestor's suspicions about Gilraen and what she might do caused fear to stir within Elladan's chest. Elrond was not the only one to have the gift of foresight. Elladan had inherited the gift — the knowledge of which he had shared with none but his brother — and while he did not see vivid visions as did his father, he had also perceived the fate of the boy should Estel not be kept in Imladris. They could not allow Gilraen to take the boy back to the dúnedain! He was the last hope of Men, and had to be hidden to protect him.

He winced. Failure to protect Estel was most likely the excuse Gilraen would use to remove the boy from their care. They could not prevent her from doing so if she insisted. Not without causing great strife between the elves and the Men of the North, especially Dírhael, who currently led the dúnedain in the absence of a Chieftain. The Man had not easily relented to Aragorn's being hidden away from his own people. And if his daughter wished to return to them, Dírhael would move the cliffs around them if need be to accomplish just that, so fierce was his love of his daughter and her son.

So what could they do?

On top of Gilraen's loss of trust, Erestor thought their father was blaming himself, which affected his ability to heal. Elladan could see that happening. Had not Elrond done just that when their mother had sailed? It had taken Celebrían's planning before she left, and Erestor's implementation of that plan, to bring Elrond out of that deep grief of self hatred and blame. (1) It had also been the catalyst to bringing Elladan and Elrohir back from certain self destruction, though they often still teetered on that edge. And who could blame them when orcs still roamed the mountains, murdering innocents…or worse, leaving them alive.

He shook off his rising anger, and focused on the problem at hand. Elrond's strength would be depleted from his healing endeavors. A lack of rest and the blame of guilt would make him unable to see the situation clearly and less likely to reason with an irate and upset mother. And they would need all the clear heads they could get if indeed Gilraen was contemplating leaving them with her son. They could not allow that to happen, and so they had to convince her that Imladris was still the safest place for Estel.

But first they had to convince Elrond that the situation was not his fault and to rest and reserve his strength for dealing with a difficult patient. And that would explain their being recalled, he realized. He and Elrohir could help with the boy's treatment, overseeing the healing and allowing their father to have a break from the tediousness of such wound care.  

"When I last visited the healing rooms, they were having a hard time getting Estel to eat anything. If he is to heal, he needs to eat," Erestor was saying. "Not even Elrond or Gilraen have been able to force food into that child."

"Perhaps forcing is the wrong way to go," Elrohir joined in, glancing at Elladan. "We should tempt his appetite with something more appealing than that bland goop Adar is apt to offer in the healing ward."

Elladan grinned. "Cherry tarts?"

Elrohir nodded, a mischievous smile replacing his somber expression of the past half hour. "And if they are for Estel, who is hurt, then Cook might not chase us from the kitchens with his broom."

"A good plan," Erestor murmured, pushing back from his desk and standing. "Let us fetch a plate of them for Estel, Elrond and Gilraen. They all need sustenance, and a pot of tea, I think," he added as an afterthought.

"And milk for Estel," Elladan added as they conspiratorially made their way to the kitchens.

— o —

Glorfindel's trip to the healing ward was made by way of the kitchens, hoping the cook might have something that would tempt the appetite of a small boy in pain. He was surprised to find the kennel master there, urging a pup to drink from a cleverly designed bottle.  Glorfindel's eyes narrowed on the tiny pup Helethion held. None of the bitches had given birth recently, so where had this whelp come from?

He feared he knew. Word had reached him that the twin sons of Elrond had returned, called home from their orc hunting by their father. And returning from the north would have led them by Glorfindel's very own meadow…the meadow where that vile beast had attacked Estel.

A dog that looked far too much like the pup held in the arms of the kennel master.

"Where did that whelp come from?" Glorfindel demanded.

Helethion's head jerked up at the command. "My lords Elladan and Elrohir asked me to tend to it, Lord Glorfindel. They found it upon their return from the wilds, abandoned by its mother and near starved to death."

A growl left him as he advanced on the small dog held possessively by Helethion. The closer he got, the more he saw the resemblance between the bitch and the pup. Deep down he knew his anger with the dog was ridiculous; the bitch had only been trying to feed her young, doing what she needed to do to survive, and yet, he could not get rid of the image of Estel's small arm, ripped and bleeding, in her jaws.

"That thing should be destroyed!"

"NO!"

Glorfindel spun at the call, finding Erestor and the twins standing in the doorway, eyes wide. "No," Erestor repeated, softer, his eyes pleading in a manner Glorfindel rarely saw. "Hear me out."

Glorfindel shook his head, not wanting to hear anything. He turned his gaze back to the pup and again saw only the bitch, blood on her face, death in her eyes. "You do not know what that thing's mother did. He will have the same disposition."

"That is not true," Elladan barked.

Glorfindel glanced over at him, startled at the sharp tone, and found the eldest twin's piercing grey eyes narrowed upon him.

"And you know it," Elladan continued in a softer tone. "It is in how you raise the pup that matters. Youtaught us that!"

Glorfindel sighed and glanced away, running a hand through his hair. He had indeed taught the twins that, and he had believed it at the time.

"The bitch had war dog in her. Is that the kind of animal you want here? What if Estel sees him? It will frighten him! He very likely will be afraid of dogs as it is without having to see one that looks just like the one who attacked him. That pup is even the same brindle color."

"And that," Erestor insisted, "is precisely why we must not destroy him but keep him alive. If Estel does indeed have a fear, he must overcome it, and we need to start as soon as possible helping him do so." He inclined his head at the pup. "That whelp is the answer. We have none in the kennels at this time."

Erestor walked over and ran a finger over the wide head of the pup. "This little fellow must be nursed back to health. And in time introduced to Estel. No little boy can resist a cute puppy for long." He smiled and began to speak to the pup in a soft, cooing voice.

Glorfindel gaped as Erestor dropped his stoicism to smile and at the pup. Then he stared hard at the whimpering puppy that was pawing at the bottle and Helethion's hands, mimicking the movements it would make nursing. He did not wish to admit it, but it was a good plan. Then of course, it would be, coming from Erestor's mind.

He smiled wryly. "Very well, but for now, his existence needs to be kept secret, and I think Gilraen should never know where that pup came from."

"Agreed." The voices of Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir spoke in unison.

To Be Continued…

(1) From the story Silver Bells, posted here! How Celebrían helped Elrond heal, even from Valinor.