![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inzilbethDisclaimer: No profit will be made from these stories. All quotes from the works of J.R.R.Tolkien are reproduced here without the permission of The Tolkien Estate or New Line Cinema. No copyright infringement is intended.
To Cairstiona and Estelcontar I offer my most grateful thanks for their ongoing encouragement and support.
For this chapter in particular, special thanks are due to Cairstiona for the beta and for her most helpful input.
Chapter 3 part 2: “Son of Arathorn”
Estel, clean, changed and fed, arrived back at his father’s study to find Elladan and Elrohir still there, still drinking wine, still telling Elrond all the news from Eriador.
“I hope you two have left some tales for me to tell Adar,” he said, as he strode across to the board and poured himself a drink from the dregs in the flask.
“Do not fear, Estel, I want to hear all about your adventures,” said Elrond. “Come and tell me your news. These two, I’m sure, want to get cleaned up as well.”
Elladan and Elrohir showed no inclination to move from their comfortable seats by the fire until discreet gesturing on Elrond’s part signalled that they had out-stayed their welcome, and they both reluctantly got to their feet.
As the twins left the room, Estel came and sat beside his father and told his tales. As Elrohir had said, there were no boasts, mostly stories to make Elrond laugh, although there were many things that Estel himself wanted advice on or just some reassurance about. Meeting the Dunedain had made a huge impact on him. He was immensely curious about these rather grim and silent men, for he had long known he was of the same blood though he could not, in truth, say he felt much sense of kinship with them.
But the deaths of the two men he had come to know as friends troubled him greatly and as he finished his tale, it was obvious to Elrond he was still badly haunted by the experience.
“It was horrible,” Estel admitted, “there was nothing anyone could do to help them.”
Elrond knew he could offer his son little in the way of comfort. “It is a risk for all who take up arms,” he said. “There are no guarantees that a warrior will survive any battle. It is hard my son, I know, but you must not allow the deaths of your comrades to blacken your heart. All those who fight the Enemy do so because they must. Perhaps when you have seen more of the lands beyond our borders you will understand better why that is so.”
Elrond was relieved, though, that, on the whole, Estel appeared to have enjoyed being in the company of the Dunedain, and he was particularly pleased that he had become friendly with young Halbarad, whom he knew to be a kinsman of Gilraen. He was however rather evasive with some of Estel’s questions as he had no wish to be drawn further into a discussion on the Dunedain until he had made his big announcement.
And so at last Elrond stood and faced his son. He looked carefully at the young man before him. He had grown tall and fair and in his noble face Elrond noticed for the first time that of all his ancestors, he was most like Elendil himself. There was joy in his smile and as he looked at Elrond, he saw the trust in his eyes. With a twinge of guilt, Elrond realised they had all deceived him, no matter how well intentioned they had been.
“Estel, I have something important to tell you,” he said. The young man immediately gave him his full attention. He considered everything that his foster father said to be important but if he himself said it was then it must be very serious indeed.
“I have told you all about my brother Elros, have I not?” asked Elrond. Estel nodded, wondering whatever his history lessons had to do with anything.
“You know that he was half-elven like myself but that he chose to be accounted among men and became the first King of Numenor, from whom Elendil and his son, Isildur, were descended. I am sure that you remember all about the Kings of Arnor and, as the line later became, the Kings of Arthedain. But do you also remember that when the Kingdom was destroyed and Isildur’s Heirs just became known as the Chieftains of the Dunedain, my brother’s line still did not fail?”
Again Estel just nodded.
“Can you perhaps recall the name of the last Lord of the Dunedain?”
Estel thought he probably did know, but he shook his head; he was beginning to feel a little nervous about where all this was leading.
“His name was Arathorn, son of Arador. He was killed by an orc arrow eighteen years ago. Elladan and Elrohir were with him at the time.”
An alarm rang in Estel’s mind and he sat very still. Elrond had his complete attention. He deliberately did not think any thoughts at all.
“But the line did not die out even then,” said Elrond, as he watched Estel carefully. “For Arathorn had a son, though he was only a child of two years at the time.” Elrond saw comprehension and then disbelief dawn on Estel’s face. “Yes, Estel, you were that child; you are Arathorn’s son. You were brought here for your safe-keeping until you were old enough to take your rightful place as leader of your people. Your true name is Aragorn.”
“Aragorn?” echoed Estel, quietly. Elrond waited for him to say more but he was clearly still absorbing this revelation so Elrond continued.
“You are not only Chieftain of the Dunedain, Estel, but you are also Isildur’s Heir and for that reason we changed your name and kept your identity secret, even from you. Your lineage may be the highest and most noble among men in Middle-earth but I am afraid, my son, that you inherit your title at a time of greater danger than has been seen by any of your forebearers since the days of the Witch-king.”
He stopped and looked at his foster son. Still Estel said nothing but looked very grave and serious as he weighed up everything Elrond had said to him. Elrond laid his hand on his shoulder and smiled at him reassuringly. “I have some heirlooms of your house to give you,” he said. Estel watched him walk over to a chest at the back of the room and unlock it. He realised then that he had never seen inside that chest and had wondered as a child what might be in it. Elrond lifted out some items wrapped in cloth and brought them to him.
“Here is the ring of Barahir,” he said, “the token of our kinship from afar; and here also are the shards of Narsil. With these you may yet do great deeds; for I foretell that the span of your life shall be greater than the measure of Men, unless evil befalls you or you fail at the test. But the test will be hard and long. The sceptre of Annuminas I withhold, for you have yet to earn it.” [1]
Estel took the ring but did not put it on his finger. He knew well the story of Barahir and the ring given to him, more than six thousand years ago, by Finrod Felagund for saving his life. Could he really be Barahir’s direct descendent? The Shards of Narsil he handled with awe and disbelief; the broken sword of Elendil that Isildur had used to cut the Ring from Sauron’s hand; his heirloom?
Elrond watched him turning the shards over in his hands, slowly coming to terms with all that he had told him. Elrond hoped that once he had absorbed these tidings, he would rejoice at the news of who he was. The burden of his destiny would weigh heavily upon him all too soon. It grieved Elrond to think of the hard and difficult life that would lie ahead of his gentle son. At least he had given him a happy childhood and equipped him the best he could for the life that he must lead. He would continue to offer him guidance in the future, but he knew others would do that task better now.
He sat down next to Estel and put his arm around him. “This will always be your home,” he said, “and we will all help you all we can, but it is not your fate to stay here, nor do I think you would wish it to be. You have seen for yourself the work of the Enemy. His power grows; the Shadow in the East lengthens. There is much to be done and in this I foresee you will play no small part.”
Estel looked up at his foster father then. “I can’t pretend this is anything other then a big shock,” he said, “but it is a relief also to know who I truly am and that my father wasn’t some kind of a rogue as I had sometimes feared.”
“Estel, my son, you did not say!”
“No, Adar, but I knew there had to be a reason why I was the only boy in a house full of Elves; now I know.” He paused and frowning, he looked questioningly at Elrond. “But why could I not have known of this before now? Why was my identity kept secret?” Such was Estel’s trust in his foster father, there was no accusation in his question, but it was nonetheless a question Elrond had hoped he would not ask just yet.
“Sauron has long sought Isildur’s heir,” he replied. “It has ever been my greatest fear that he would find you. Let us not speak of this now. Know only that to keep you safe, I decided to not risk any knowing that you dwelt here. Fear of that chance remark or slip of the tongue guided me in this. A child could not be expected to fully understand the importance of this. I am sorry, Estel, but I deemed the risk too great. I am afraid, my son, there will be few to whom you can ever reveal your true name.” It was another burden to lay upon him and it saddened Elrond to have to do it.
But the full implication of this did not at that time register with Estel as he was still too preoccupied with wondering about his new father. He hesitated to ask his next question, still fearful of what he might learn. Avoiding Elrond’s gaze, he asked in a quiet voice. “Did you know him?”
“Yes, my son, I knew him well. He was a good and honourable man.”
Estel was quiet for a long moment. This sudden and unexpected discovery of his real father had rocked him to the core. Although he had long known Elrond could not be his blood father, he nonetheless adored him. He had no wish for another to replace him and yet he was burning with curiosity for this man Arathorn. Involuntarily he reached for Elrond. His foster father took his hand in his and imparted what comfort he could.
Estel’s mind was racing, his emotions a swirling maelstrom, but he was not the son of either of his fathers for nothing. He realised Elrond’s revelations were about far more than just his own parentage. He forced his own concerns into the back of his mind and tried to consider the wider perspective. He now found himself, quite unexpectedly, to be the lord of a scattered and impoverished people who fought a never-ending battle against evil. Before he continued, he thought about his words carefully.
“This last trip, being among the Dunedain; they see things differently from elves, I believe. Maybe it has something to do with being mortal or maybe it’s because of how hard their lives are; I’m not really sure. But I do know I felt a need to do something more than just help with the patrols, and now I see that I must, that it is my duty even.”
Elrond squeezed his son’s hand. “You are right, Estel, and I am glad that you can see this. You should talk to your mother. There is much that she can tell you.”
“Yes, of course!” said Estel, jumping to his feet at once as questions to ask Gilraen immediately flooded into his mind. But then he stopped, for amid all the turmoil and confusion raging within him, it was slowly dawning on him that he had at last acquired an identity of his own. A smile spread across his face. He turned to his foster father and asked: “Is my name really Aragorn?”
“Yes, Estel,” said Elrond, smiling back at him, “Aragorn, son of Arathorn.”
~oo0oo~
Estel went to find his mother. He was still in a daze over all that Elrond had told him yet his heart was surprisingly light and untroubled. Quite what the implications were for him, he had as yet no real idea. Being a chieftain sounded a rather daunting role but already he felt a growing pride in his newfound ancestry. He would go to the library later and work out exactly how he was related to Elrond. That he was actually distant kin to his foster family thrilled him enormously, though he was still a little stunned at the thought of all that royal blood flowing in his veins. But right now he wished only to hear more of his true father.
He made his way through the house to his mother’s sitting room and knocked on the door.
“Estel?” said a woman’s voice.
“No, it is Aragorn!” came the reply.
Gilraen opened the door and looked anxiously at her son. “He’s told you.”
“Yes, he’s told me everything,” said Estel, smiling at his mother.
Gilraen threw her arms around her son and held him close for a moment. She had waited for this day for so many years. At last she could share her husband with her son and tell him all the things about his father that she had kept to herself for so long. She had not been many years older than Estel when she had fled with him to Rivendell following the death of Arathorn. That day she not only lost her husband but also her family, her friends and her old life. She gazed lovingly up at her son and slid her hand to his face, her fingers gently brushing the thin stubble that now grew there. She had given up much for her child but looking at her grown-up son, so tall and fair, who reminded her so much of Arathorn, she knew it had all been worth it.
“Come Aragorn, we have much to talk about.”
[1] The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen: Return of the King
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 12:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 06:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 04:54 pm (UTC)Good writing. I like your portrayal of Estel/Aragorn very much. :)
~Calenlass
P.S. I hope you won't mind that I've friended you--easier for me to pick on updates that way.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 06:23 pm (UTC)And I'm delighted you friended me. Hope you don't mind if I friend you back!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 08:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 06:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 08:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-30 09:16 pm (UTC)Perhaps that's why he thought he was still dreaming ...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 08:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 08:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 08:16 pm (UTC)And thank you so much for all your help bouncing ideas around on this. Fortunately that's the most difficult chapter out the way for a while now!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 10:15 pm (UTC)And you're entirely welcome, as always. Aragorn's such a fun guy to bounce around, isn't he?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 08:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 01:28 am (UTC)I like how he identifies himself when he knocks on his mother's door.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 08:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 04:42 am (UTC)The way his mood swings from doubt to elation on being told about his inheritance sounds very much like Aragorn too.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 08:53 am (UTC)As for being told of that kind of inheritance; well, how do you handle something like that? LOL
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-01 07:21 pm (UTC)