When a Peredhel Falls (G; Elrohir, Aragorn)
Title: When a Peredhel Falls
Fandom: LOTR
Characters: Elrohir, Aragorn (non-slash)
Prompt: 017
Word Count: 1, 023
Rating: G
Summary: Estel gets used as a cushion, and learns a little about the hearts of Peredhil. Silly brotherly bonding.
Author's Notes: Though this challenge seems to be quite heavy on the slash, I also write general stories (non-slash), and I hope that gen is also acceptable for entries for the challenge.
The Sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell.
At least, it fell on Estel, in the rather abrupt form of a Half-Elf twin.
Which, in retrospect, was only slightly better than having both twins land on him.
When the Elrond’s fosterling came to, said Half-Elf was gently patting his face with a concerned expression. Estel dimly wondered if he would suffer a concussion, and thought it likely if he, a limber yet still growing 15-year-old human, was used as a cushion by a fully-grown Peredhel. He belatedly realised that his brother was saying something to him, and managed to tune his ears in just as Elrohir was saying, “…but the shower this morning left the bark of the tree rather wet and slippery, and I was trying to keep my robes from getting wet- you know how ada is about us appearing at dinner presentable- and my hand lost its grip on the branch-“
“Peace, brother,” interjected Estel before the effort of keeping up with his brother’s words gave his concussion a concussion as well. He took a calming breath. He loved his foster family, and was honoured that the sons of Elrond treated him as a real brother, but along that came the inconvenience of them forgetting that he was a mere human. Most of the time this was due to his own deliberations, for he ever pushed himself to be their equal in all things, and scowled at any reminders of the deficiencies in physical ability that came with his mortal state, but at the end of the day he was still only human, and not as hardy as his brothers.
Well, his body may be more prone to injury, but that did not mean his mind was any less keen. “Now that you’ve explained how you came off the tree,” Estel said, “would you care to indulge why you were up there in the first place?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was because I wanted to examine the health of this fine specimen of beech here?”
“In your formal robes? I think not.”
The Half-Elf chuckled. “Very well, I was endeavouring to escape the attentions of that horde of ellyth that Lorien has just shipped to us. The Valar know where my twin is hiding, though I daresay he finds one or two of those maidens pleasing to the eye.” He pulled Estel to his feet, and brushed off some fallen leaves that had attached themselves to the young Man’s clothes. “Come, if you are with me perhaps I can feign taking my injured brother to the healers.”
“I am not injured!” Estel protested, though his head gave a throb of protest.
“That, my brother, can be easily remedied.” Elrohir laughed when Estel tried to give him a playful punch on the shoulder, which he easily evaded. “And I am quite certain you have a concussion, at least.”
Estel waved a hand dismissively. “Since when have you gone to a healer for a simple concussion?”
“Why do you think ada insisted for all of us to learn the healing arts? I can no longer recall how many times I evaded the healers only to face the ministrations of my twin!”
The two laughed merrily as they strolled through Elrond’s twisting garden paths, the last tendrils of light disappearing from the darkening sky above. After several minutes of walking in a companionable silence, the heaviness in Estel’s head abated somewhat, and he suddenly said, “Elrohir, may I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course, little one.”
“Why have you never married?”
Elrohir grinned. “Is this a round-about way of asking me to introduce you to some of those ellyth?”
“Tôr!”
Laughing, Elrohir dodged another attempt to punch him. Seeing that Estel was determined to get an answer, however, he sobered. “I simply have had no desire to, little one. Perhaps I have not yet found the one for whom I am destined for.”
“Naneth says that it is not always a case of destiny. Her sister has married twice, when her first husband died young, but she loves them both.”
“Ah, but who is to say that she was not destined for both?” Elrohir reached out and ruffled Estel’s already unruly mane of hair. “But Gilraen is wise, for love can just as easily grow from strong friendship and a mutual regard between two people. Yet it is the way of the Peredhil, little brother, to love only one and only once in their lifetimes. Ada says that this is why his brother chose the Doom of Men. Ada was hurt that his brother would choose to sunder them until the world is re-made, but eventually understood when he himself met Naneth.”
“It sounds perilous, this condition of yours,” Estel commented.
Elrohir chuckled. “Love is always perilous, little one. And what do you mean ‘this condition of ours’? You are of our kin, too, remember?”
The young Man frowned. “I appreciate how much you’ve come to see me as your family, Elrohir, but your kindness cannot change my blood.”
For the shortest moment, Elrohir’s face flitted from confusion to a careful impassiveness. Then he broke into a smile once more. “But you know that Gilraen is of the Dunedain, and the house of Elrond is ever tied to the exiles of Numenor. So you are kin, little one.”
Estel nodded. “I suppose so.” In the distance, the bell signalled that dinner in the House was to start in ten minutes. “Do I look presentable enough for dinner?”
“Have you taken a bath this week?”
“Tôr!”
“Yes, you do!” Elrohir managed to get out in the midst of his laughter. “Just wipe your boots before you go in. I, on the other hand, must change my robes, so I shall see you at the table.”
Estel nodded and sped down the path towards the Last Homely House. Elrohir watched him go, the amusement on his face morphing into an expression of relief once the young Man had disappeared through the door.
“Close one,” he muttered under his breath, and followed.
Link back to Big Damn Table of Prompts
Fandom: LOTR
Characters: Elrohir, Aragorn (non-slash)
Prompt: 017
Word Count: 1, 023
Rating: G
Summary: Estel gets used as a cushion, and learns a little about the hearts of Peredhil. Silly brotherly bonding.
Author's Notes: Though this challenge seems to be quite heavy on the slash, I also write general stories (non-slash), and I hope that gen is also acceptable for entries for the challenge.
The Sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell.
At least, it fell on Estel, in the rather abrupt form of a Half-Elf twin.
Which, in retrospect, was only slightly better than having both twins land on him.
When the Elrond’s fosterling came to, said Half-Elf was gently patting his face with a concerned expression. Estel dimly wondered if he would suffer a concussion, and thought it likely if he, a limber yet still growing 15-year-old human, was used as a cushion by a fully-grown Peredhel. He belatedly realised that his brother was saying something to him, and managed to tune his ears in just as Elrohir was saying, “…but the shower this morning left the bark of the tree rather wet and slippery, and I was trying to keep my robes from getting wet- you know how ada is about us appearing at dinner presentable- and my hand lost its grip on the branch-“
“Peace, brother,” interjected Estel before the effort of keeping up with his brother’s words gave his concussion a concussion as well. He took a calming breath. He loved his foster family, and was honoured that the sons of Elrond treated him as a real brother, but along that came the inconvenience of them forgetting that he was a mere human. Most of the time this was due to his own deliberations, for he ever pushed himself to be their equal in all things, and scowled at any reminders of the deficiencies in physical ability that came with his mortal state, but at the end of the day he was still only human, and not as hardy as his brothers.
Well, his body may be more prone to injury, but that did not mean his mind was any less keen. “Now that you’ve explained how you came off the tree,” Estel said, “would you care to indulge why you were up there in the first place?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was because I wanted to examine the health of this fine specimen of beech here?”
“In your formal robes? I think not.”
The Half-Elf chuckled. “Very well, I was endeavouring to escape the attentions of that horde of ellyth that Lorien has just shipped to us. The Valar know where my twin is hiding, though I daresay he finds one or two of those maidens pleasing to the eye.” He pulled Estel to his feet, and brushed off some fallen leaves that had attached themselves to the young Man’s clothes. “Come, if you are with me perhaps I can feign taking my injured brother to the healers.”
“I am not injured!” Estel protested, though his head gave a throb of protest.
“That, my brother, can be easily remedied.” Elrohir laughed when Estel tried to give him a playful punch on the shoulder, which he easily evaded. “And I am quite certain you have a concussion, at least.”
Estel waved a hand dismissively. “Since when have you gone to a healer for a simple concussion?”
“Why do you think ada insisted for all of us to learn the healing arts? I can no longer recall how many times I evaded the healers only to face the ministrations of my twin!”
The two laughed merrily as they strolled through Elrond’s twisting garden paths, the last tendrils of light disappearing from the darkening sky above. After several minutes of walking in a companionable silence, the heaviness in Estel’s head abated somewhat, and he suddenly said, “Elrohir, may I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course, little one.”
“Why have you never married?”
Elrohir grinned. “Is this a round-about way of asking me to introduce you to some of those ellyth?”
“Tôr!”
Laughing, Elrohir dodged another attempt to punch him. Seeing that Estel was determined to get an answer, however, he sobered. “I simply have had no desire to, little one. Perhaps I have not yet found the one for whom I am destined for.”
“Naneth says that it is not always a case of destiny. Her sister has married twice, when her first husband died young, but she loves them both.”
“Ah, but who is to say that she was not destined for both?” Elrohir reached out and ruffled Estel’s already unruly mane of hair. “But Gilraen is wise, for love can just as easily grow from strong friendship and a mutual regard between two people. Yet it is the way of the Peredhil, little brother, to love only one and only once in their lifetimes. Ada says that this is why his brother chose the Doom of Men. Ada was hurt that his brother would choose to sunder them until the world is re-made, but eventually understood when he himself met Naneth.”
“It sounds perilous, this condition of yours,” Estel commented.
Elrohir chuckled. “Love is always perilous, little one. And what do you mean ‘this condition of ours’? You are of our kin, too, remember?”
The young Man frowned. “I appreciate how much you’ve come to see me as your family, Elrohir, but your kindness cannot change my blood.”
For the shortest moment, Elrohir’s face flitted from confusion to a careful impassiveness. Then he broke into a smile once more. “But you know that Gilraen is of the Dunedain, and the house of Elrond is ever tied to the exiles of Numenor. So you are kin, little one.”
Estel nodded. “I suppose so.” In the distance, the bell signalled that dinner in the House was to start in ten minutes. “Do I look presentable enough for dinner?”
“Have you taken a bath this week?”
“Tôr!”
“Yes, you do!” Elrohir managed to get out in the midst of his laughter. “Just wipe your boots before you go in. I, on the other hand, must change my robes, so I shall see you at the table.”
Estel nodded and sped down the path towards the Last Homely House. Elrohir watched him go, the amusement on his face morphing into an expression of relief once the young Man had disappeared through the door.
“Close one,” he muttered under his breath, and followed.
Link back to Big Damn Table of Prompts