V: Bad Ithil Rising
Estel awoke to birdsong and the sound of children’s laughter. It took him a few seconds to recognize the bower in which he lay and the events leading up to his being there. Cautiously raising his head he found that he was alone, but even as he was attempting to rise, Elrond stepped through the curtained doorway, followed by Glorfindel and Radagast. Both elves were travel-stained and weary looking, but their eyes lit up with joy at the sight of the youngest member of their party alive if bleary-eyed. Estel noticed that Radagast now wore a chaplet of dead-looking leaves on his head and wasn’t at all sure that it was an improvement over the bird’s nest.
"Adar!"
"Wait, Estel, let me help you," Elrond said as he reached the young Man’s side and gently aided him to sit up. "Let me see how you fare." He began to remove the bandages around Estel’s abdomen.
"I do know a thing or two about healing, Elrond," Radagast said somewhat testily. "Where do you think you Elves learned the art of healing, anyway? You don’t think you just picked it up all by yourselves, do you?"
Elrond looked at the brown-robed being and smiled. "We like to think so."
"Hmph. Yes, well, you didn’t."
Glorfindel laughed and slapped Radagast on the shoulder. "I’m sure that’s true, old friend, but it won’t help. Elrond is too much the healer to take anyone’s word for it, including yours."
Elrond finished removing the bandages and examined the wound. Estel tried to see what it looked like but all he could see was the top of Elrond’s head so he just stared up at the ceiling of leaves, watching the birds flitting in and out of the trees, and waited for the examination to finish.
"The stitching is adequate and there does not seem to be any sign of necrosis around the wound," Elrond grudgingly allowed. "I think you will live, iôn nîn." Elrond looked up with a smile and began to rewind the bandages.
"Of course he will live, you stupid elf!" Radagast shouted. "I don’t allow people to die in my presence if I can possibly help it. Too much bother cleaning up afterwards."
Glorfindel laughed at the exasperated tone of the Wizard’s voice, but Estel just stared at the man with undisguised awe. He never in his life had ever heard anyone, not even Erestor or Glorfindel, speak to Elrond that way. And ‘stupid’ was not an adjective that he ever associated with his adar.
Elrond finished tying the bandages and stood up, still smiling, to face the brown-robed Wizard, but there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. "That should be ‘Lord Stupid Elf’, my Lord Radagast," he said, his voice cold as the snows on Caradhras.
"Hmph. And I thought Fëanor was impossible to deal with." With that, Radagast turned and stumped out of the bower in high dudgeon.
Glorfindel looked at his friend with mock disapproval. "You shouldn’t antagonize the host, Elrond, especially when he’s a Maia. How many times have I had to tell you that?"
Estel felt his jaw drop in surprise for he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maia? Radagast?
Elrond’s voice became even colder, if that was possible. "I’ve ridden for three days without rest, I am weary as I have not been in centuries and I’m not in the mood to be lectured even by you, mellon nîn."
"Well, if I don’t, who will?" Glorfindel was practically shouting in frustration. "And close your mouth, Estel, you look like a beached limdhaen," he addressed Estel without even looking at him, his attention solely on the elf-lord standing before him.
Estel quickly closed his mouth with a noticeable snap. He was appalled by the scene before him. He knew in the back of his mind that Elrond and Glorfindel often had arguments, but they were civil in nature and if there was any shouting it was done behind closed doors, and apparently late at night when he was asleep, for Estel could not remember a time when either elf had shouted in public. It was almost as if they had completely forgotten he was there.
"Ah, excuse me Adar, but I really need to—" Estel attempted to climb out of the bed but before he could move too far both Elrond and Glorfindel were at his side, their argument apparently forgotten.
"And where do you think you’re going?" Glorfindel asked, then reached down to grab something from underneath the bed. "Here, I think you’ll be using this for a while, if I’m not mistaken."
In his hand was a chamber pot, which he placed on the bed, giving Estel a meaningful stare.
Estel grimaced. "I really don’t—"
"Sorry, iôn nîn," Elrond said sympathetically. "But you’re in no condition to get out of bed as yet. We’ll leave you some privacy and see about getting something for you to eat. Glorfindel."
"Perhaps I should stay and make sure he does stay in bed, Elrond."
Elrond shook his head. "You won’t get out of bed, will you Aragorn?"
Estel sighed, knowing that he dared not disobey his adar in this, especially when Elrond addressed him with his proper name. "No sir, I promise."
Elrond nodded. "Come along Glorfindel, let’s leave the lad to himself. We’ll be back shortly, iôn nîn."
With that the two elves left and Estel was alone, save for the birds twittering in the trees above him. Muttering a curse he grabbed the chamber pot and set about answering the call of nature.
****
Some time later the two elves returned. Glorfindel carried a tray laden with food, while Elrond carried a bowl of steaming water and a towel over his arm. He laid the bowl down on the small table next to the bed and, handing Estel some soap, instructed the young man to wash while Elrond competently dealt with the now full chamber pot. When Estel had finished washing, with some help from Elrond, Glorfindel began serving him some breakfast. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he began eating.
For a while no one spoke. Both elves sat on wooden stools set on either side of the bed, studiously ignoring each other, content to watch their young charge fill his stomach. After a time, though, the silence became almost too much for Estel, and he began to feel self-conscious.
"Don’t either of you have anything better to do than watch me eat?" he finally asked with some exasperation.
The two elves looked at each other briefly before turning their attention to Estel.
"No," they said in unison, both shaking their heads, smiling.
Estel sighed. "Well, too bad, because I’m finished." He pushed the tray away even though the breakfast was only half eaten, having suddenly lost his appetite.
Elrond shook his head. "No, Estel, all of it. You lost a lot of blood and you need to get your strength back up."
"Oh, all right," he said grudgingly picking up a piece of toast, "but I don’t need any minders. Why don’t you go and get some rest? You both look like death warmed over, as Belegond likes to say. I can manage on my own for a while."
Elrond and Glorfindel glanced at each other over Estel’s head, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Am I to presume that we’ve just been dismissed by your foster son, Elrond?" Glorfindel asked nonchalantly.
"No," replied Estel before Elrond could answer, his tone as chilling as possible for someone who was not used to speaking so to those who were his elders. "You’ve been dismissed by the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, who would like to have some privacy."
For a moment there was complete silence. Even the birds seemed to have stopped singing, as if shocked by what they had heard. Certainly Elrond and Glorfindel showed more than just amused surprise at Estel’s words.
Finally, Elrond spoke, his face expressionless. "Then perhaps we should leave you to finish your breakfast in peace, Dúnadan. I’ll ask Radagast to check on you later in case you are in need of anything. Come Glorfindel." Elrond stood up and Glorfindel followed suit, his mouth open in amazement.
"Close your mouth Glorfindel," Estel said mildly, smiling wickedly. "You looked like a beached limdhaen."
Elrond pulled Glorfindel out of the bower before the elf could respond.
****
A little while later, his breakfast finished, Estel was sipping the last of the tea when Radagast entered, now looking amused rather than affronted.
"You seem to have a knack for antagonizing elves, youngling. I’ve never seen Elrond look so... so.... well, words escape me, and that’s not something that happens too often."
Estel looked chagrined. "Do you think he’s really angry at me? I didn’t mean to upset him or Glorfindel, but they were... well, they were getting on my nerves," he ended more fiercely than he had intended.
Radagast chuckled as he stooped to pick up the breakfast tray. "Frankly, it’ll do them both good. I saw the way they hovered over you like a couple of hens with a wayward chick. I’ve spent many yéni in the company of Men, Woodsmen mostly, and I learned early on that they don’t like being treated like children by anyone, be they Eldar or Maiar. Now, why don’t you get some rest yourself?"
Estel nodded and began to lie down, but stopped at a thought. "Radagast."
"Hmm."
"Was it my imagination or did I hear the laughter of children earlier?"
Radagast smiled as he stopped before the doorway. "Oh no, not your imagination. The Woodsmen and some of the Beornings make their home hereabouts. You must have heard their children playing."
"Is this a large town of Men, then?"
"Well, ‘town’ is such a large word for so small a place. Better to say that this is a settlement and leave it at that. King Thranduil actually gave me the land for my own use when I first came to Eryn Lasgalen. For a long time this bower was just about all that had been built, for I lived alone, save for the animals of the forest, but then the Woodsmen and Beornings began to migrate to this place for safety’s sake and so Rhosgobel began to grow. It’s nowhere as large a place as Laketown, or even Dale, but it suits. Now, enough talking. Get some rest, youngling."
Estel smiled. "Yes, sir," he said as Radagast departed. He lay back down and attempted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be with a hole in his abdomen. Within five minutes, though, he was fast asleep.
****
When Estel awoke, the light filtering through the leaves above him was the golden light of late afternoon. No birds sang but someone was softly playing on a harp. Raising his head he saw that it was Elrond, sitting on a bench under the bole of one of the trees that made up the bower. Two yellow finches sat on his shoulders, one on either side, apparently enjoying the music and occasionally making a comment or two.
"Well, if you don’t like my music, little one," Elrond said softly with a smile to the bird on his right shoulder who had just finished giving its opinion, "you’re always free to make your own."
Which is precisely what it did, flying off with its companion into the high branches of the tree. The elf-lord chuckled and Estel found himself laughing as well.
Elrond looked up. "Ah, I see you’ve finally woken." He stood up gracefully and laid the harp carefully on the bench before coming over to the bed. "How do you feel? Any better?"
Estel nodded but in truth he was not feeling very well. His dreams had been disturbing, mostly having to do with his adar for some reason, and he was feeling more pain than he wanted to admit, not wishing to seem overly weak before the elves. Instead, and remembering how they had left each other, he smiled ruefully and said, "Embarrassed."
Elrond raised an eyebrow at that and nodded. "I think we were all suffering from a great deal of stress at the time. I am sorry you had to witness all that. Would you like some water?"
Estel nodded and with some help from Elrond sat up. He watched Elrond fuss about him, getting him water and fluffing the pillows, and some of the images of his dreams came back to him and he shied away from them for they were too terrible to contemplate, but they were too terrible not to. He did not believe his suspicions could be real, yet there was a nagging feeling that perhaps they were. He wished the pain in his chest would go away; it was hard to think straight. Wishing to ward off such dark thoughts he remembered something Glorfindel had said earlier. "About Radagast being a Maia..."
"Ah, yes. Well, that’s Glorfindel’s opinion. In truth, neither Radagast nor the other Ithryn have —"
"The other who?" Estel interrupted.
"Oh, yes, of course. You don’t know." Elrond grabbed one of the stools and brought it near the bed to sit on. "About a thousand years after the Third Age began, five... beings, for lack of a better word, appeared in Mithlond claiming to be emissaries from the West, though they did not specifically say they were Maiar. They called themselves Ithryn — Istari in Quenya — instead. I have only met three of them. Two traveled into the East and South to lands unknown to me and may be there yet. Of the three, one has visited Imladris numerous times, though we always made sure you were out with your brothers when he was there. I felt it prudent to keep any knowledge of your existence from those who were not of Imladris."
"The grey-robed man," Estel said with a nod of his head, taking a sip of the water. It was cool and refreshing and he did not realize he was so thirsty.
Elrond looked at him in surprise. "Yes. We elves and the Dúnedain call him Mithrandir. I was unaware that you even knew he was there the few times he visited Imladris."
Estel smiled. "I think the first time I saw him was when I was about ten and he came accompanied by all those dwarves. You very conveniently arranged for me to go on a camping expedition with my brothers right after they arrived, but I managed to catch a glimpse of them before Elrohir and naneth found me and took me back to my room to pack. It was obvious, even to me, that no one wanted to talk about them in front of me so I kept quiet, but I also kept my eyes open for opportunities to see the grey-robed man again whenever I could, though I was never brave enough to approach him and I’m not sure he even knew I was there."
"Oh, I’m sure he knew just from the fact that it was evident that a child lived in the house, but as I didn’t bring you out to be introduced, he never said a word about it."
"And Radagast? I don’t think I ever saw him in Imladris."
"No. Radagast prefers the woods of Rhovanion and is especially friendly with Thranduil’s elves, although, in truth, he appears to have little to do with either Elves or Men. He seems to prefer the company of the animals of the forest instead. I suspect that he once belonged to the people of Yavanna before coming to Middle-earth."
Estel’s eyebrows rose at that. "So, you think these Ithryn are Maiar, too."
For a long moment Elrond did not answer, then he sighed and nodded. "Yes, I do."
"You don’t sound very happy about it," Estel said with a wry smile.
Elrond chuckled. "Perhaps I’m not, but that is not your concern." He stared at his foster son with a shrewd look that made Estel very uncomfortable.
"There is something upsetting you, Aragorn, more than being fussed over by Glorfindel and me."
Estel stared at his feet, refusing to look at the elf-lord, and for several tense moments did not speak. The thoughts in his head seemed traitorous and he was not sure how to broach the subject, but his suspicions would not leave him. He found himself shaking.
"Estel! What is it, iôn nîn?" Elrond leaned over to caress Estel’s head.
Estel found himself shying away from Elrond’s touch. Finally, barely speaking above a whisper, he asked, "D-do you wish the orcs had killed me?"
"What—?" Elrond leapt to his feet in shock.
Estel made himself look at the person he thought of as his father and swallowed. His words were slow at first but once started he found he could not stop. "It would have solved a lot of problems. In fact, I’m beginning to think this entire trip has been designed for my benefit: the storm, the cliff, the orcs. I could have died in any of these circumstances and you would have been relieved for Arwen’s sake —"
"No!" Elrond’s protest cut through the avalanche of words and the pain that he felt cut through his fëa like a sword stroke. He stared at Estel almost in disbelief and what he saw in his foster son’s eyes was almost too much for him to bear. Without a word, for he feared to say anything right then, he backed away from Estel’s bed and then fled the bower, though anyone seeing him would never have guessed, for he somehow managed to keep his steps to a walk and his entire mien impassive.
Glorfindel, who was in the clearing outside the bower speaking with Radagast, was not fooled, however. Elrond had stopped three paces from the doorway looking whiter than Glorfindel had ever seen him, even during the siege of Barad-dûr when an orc arrow had found its way past his shield, lodging in his side.
"Elrond, what is it?" Glorfindel asked with concern as he approached his friend. "Has something happened to Estel?"
Radagast slipped quietly past the elves and entered the bower.
"Elrond!" Glorfindel repeated the elf-lord’s name, trying to break through the shock.
"M-my s— the Chieftain of the Dúnedain just accused me of trying to get him killed." Elrond’s voice was barely above a whisper and cracked towards the end as he started to collapse.
Glorfindel struggled to hold him up even while trying to come to terms with what he had just heard.
"No, Elrond, you must be mistaken. Why would Estel accuse you of such a thing?"
But Elrond would not respond, so Glorfindel led him away to their own bower and set him down on one of the cots. He could feel anger rising in him at what Estel had done to Elrond, for the elf-lord looked... shattered, was the only word that came to mind.
Glorfindel found a carafe of wine and poured some out and then forced Elrond to drink. Slowly the color returned to Elrond’s face, but his pulse was still irregular and Glorfindel thought he was still deep in shock. Forcing the anger he was feeling back down he began to sing softly, kneading Elrond’s neck in an attempt to bring him some calm. It was several minutes, though, before he felt Elrond’s muscles relax under his ministrations. Finally he encouraged Elrond to lie down and taking advantage of his friend’s weakness sent him into a healing trance.
When he was sure that Elrond was asleep, Glorfindel went out and headed towards Estel’s bower.
"Now let’s see what this is all about."
****
Radagast entered the bower to see Estel sitting up, his hands clenched, his breathing rapid and shallow, looking almost as pale as Elrond. His eyes were shut and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"You know, youngling, when I said you had a knack for antagonizing elves I didn’t mean for you to make a career of it," Radagast said nonchalantly as he stepped towards the bed.
Estel opened his eyes, but they were blank with pain and then Radagast had just enough time to grab the chamber pot and thrust it under the mortal’s chin before he became violently ill.
"Now I know why I like birds better," Radagast muttered sourly to himself.
Estel was suffering the final spasm when Glorfindel stalked into the bower, fury lighting his eyes. "Have you taken leave of your senses, you ungrateful whelp?" he shouted. "How dare you accuse Elrond of trying to kill you! What were you thinking? Were you thinking?"
But Estel was too far gone in pain to answer the elf, if he even knew he was there.
"That’s enough, son of Gondolin!" Radagast admonished as he put the chamber pot down to confront the elf.
Glorfindel paid no attention to the Wizard, his mind focused only on the mortal before him. He came to the other side of the bed and grabbed Estel by the shoulders, shaking him. "Answer me, damn you. What were you thinking? Ányë nanquetë, tyë yondo Valarauco!" he shouted, in his fury resorting to Quenya.
Then Glorfindel heard someone screaming and he knew it wasn’t him. He felt strong hands push him away from Estel and the fury that had consumed him died as he saw the blood spreading from underneath the bandages, not the normal bright red, but dark, almost black, and there was a nauseating smell emanating from it. Estel collapsed back onto the bed unconscious, his skin deathly white, his lips an unhealthy bluish tinge, even as Radagast tore at the bandages. The stitching of the wound had come undone and the blood was pumping out of him at an alarming rate.
"Radagast, what—"
"No time for that, elfling. Make yourself useful and find me some boiling water and more bandages. I’ve got to stop this bleeding."
For a long moment Glorfindel was at a loss what to do, shock freezing both mind and body. Radagast looked up with anger and something else in his eyes. "Laurefindil!"
The sound of his name in the ancient tongue of his youth brought Glorfindel to himself and with a nod he set out to find the water and bandages as Radagast had ordered. It was only a matter of minutes before he returned and saw that the blood seemed to have slowed, but there was so much of it soaking the bed linen, dripping onto the floor. Radagast’s robe was bloody to the elbows.
"Here, Radagast." Glorfindel set the bowl of steaming water on the nightstand and placed the roll of bandages next to it.
Radagast did not look up from his ministrations but nodded. "Good. Now be off with you, the lad is still in danger of dying and I don’t need the distraction."
"But—"
"No!" Radagast shouted. "Out! And make sure Elrond does not interfere." Then seeing the stricken look on the elf’s face, he softened his tone. "There is nothing you can do here, son of Gondolin, but to get in my way. Go now, and pray to the Valar that I am able to bring some good out of this disaster."
With that, Glorfindel fled from the sight of Estel lying in a pool of black blood and dying, even as Radagast struggled to save him.
****
Ithil: Moon.
Limdhaen: Corpse-fish; the narwhal (the name actually means "corpse-whale"), so called because of its corpse-white coloring. It’s probable that these creatures were seen by the elves as they crossed the Helcaraxë and Glorfindel would remember them.
Yén: an elvish century equal to 144 sun-years.
Yavanna: A Valië, spouse of Aulë. According to UT/"The Istari", Yavanna specifically asked that Aiwendil (Radagast) be included among the Istari. There is some intimation that Radagast’s inclusion in the Heren Istari (Order of Wizards) was forced on Curumo (Curunír/Saruman) by Yavanna, which explains Saruman’s animosity towards Radagast as described by Gandalf at the Council of Elrond.
Ányë nanquetë, tyë yondo Valarauco!: (Quenya) 'Answer me, you son of a Balrog!'